Book 1: Chapter 3
When I woke up in the morning, Matthew wasn’t in bed. I didn’t hear him in the bathroom and wasn’t sure if he was even home. I would have hoped he
would have at least waited for me to wake up to discuss what happened last night. So I could tell him what had actually happened.
I busied myself getting ready for work, then went downstairs to make myself a coffee to take into the office.
I was on the stairs when I heard voices – plural – from the kitchen. Frowning, I went to investigate.
Seline was standing beside Matthew by the stove, literally hanging off of him. Matthew was cooking something, and Seline was leaning on him and watching. I stood in silence, watching the two of them. Neither of them even noticed I’d come into the kitchen.
I went to the coffee machine, pulled down my travel mug and let the cabinet slam shut. They both jumped and turned around. A look of guilt crossed Matthew’s features.
“Good morning,” he tried to salvage his initial reaction. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”
I looked between Matthew and Seline.
“This is cozy,” I said, crossing my arms.
“It was late by the time we finished at the hospital. Seline is fine, thanks for asking, Matthew frowned. Seline just smiled at me. “And she was sore.
So I brought her here to sleep last night. It just didn’t make sense to have her go home by herself when she was in pain.”
“No,” I said, lacing my tone with sweetness and sarcasm. “I wouldn’t expect a full grown adult to be able to manage taking a Tylenol all by themselves.
“It’s because of you she was injured in the first place,” Matthew frowned. “The least you could do is apologize and not make a big deal out of this.”
I scoffed. Apologize? For what? She poured the tea on herself.
Matthew’s frown deepened.
“It’s fine, Matty,” Seline said, her tone full of saccharine. “It was an accident. I surprised Amber by being here when she got home.”
I balied my hands into fists. Again, she intentionally used the wrong name.
“I’m going to be late,” I said through clenched teeth as I grabbed my coffee and headed towards the door.
“We’ll talk about this later, Amelia,” Matthew said. “Okay?”
“I’ll bet we will,” I said under my breath.
I grabbed my briefcase from the closet where I’d left it the night before, and left without saying goodbye to either of them. I was fuming as I drove towards the office.
I had convinced Matthew to get the extra key back from Seline and had gotten the locks changed so that only Matthew and I had the keys. I didn’t even give my mother–in–law a key, but that didn’t stop her from meddling.
As time went on, Seline became a constant presence. She was always at my in–laws every time Matthew and I were there. My mother–in–law made sure to sit her right beside Matthew every time. She would do her best to make sure they were together, but sometimes she pretended to “forget” that I was coming as well and would scramble to get a place setting, chair, and rearrange the seating.
“The least you could have done is have said thank you to my mother,” Matthew seethed at me one night after another, ‘Oops, forgot Matthew would be bringing his wife to a family dinner!
“Thank you?” I asked. “For what? Pretending to forget you’re married and that your wife would also be joining for dinner? It’s amazing that she never seems to forget to invite Seline. But somehow she manages to forget that you’re married.”
*Stop making something out of nothing,” Matthew said. “Seline is back in town and she’s been away for a long time. She doesn’t know a lot of people and we grew up together. It’s natural that my parents would invite her so she doesn’t feel so lonely. After her parents moved across the country, she lost touch with a lot of the families in the city that we grew up with.”
“And I should be grateful that your mother manages to forget my existence until I show up apparently uninvited?”
“Amelia, you’re not uninvited. My mother is getting older. She forgets things sometimes, Matthew explained, running his hands up and down my arms as he hugged me and kissed the top of my head. He continued running his hands over my body.
That was the night the twins were conceived.
“Maybe after the babies are born, you should stay home to raise them?” Matthew asked one night after getting home from dinner at his parents‘. There was no doubt, Seline was there and all over him. I could smell her perfume – cloyingly sweet. It turned my stomach.
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I hadn’t been feeling well and declined to join. Matthew didn’t make a fuss, my mother–in–law didn’t bother calling to see if I was alright, not that I was expecting her to, and Matthew didn’t even think twice about going without me.
*Just relax. Rest. Have some chicken broth or toast, stay on the couch. Binge one of your legal dramas. I’ll check in with you, okay?” He said.
“Can’t you stay home with me? I’m feeling really awful, Matthew. It would be nice to have you to snuggle with,” I said, trying not to sound like I was pleading.
‘You’ll be fine, Amelia. It’s the pregnancy. Mrs. Watkins is here if you need anything. And Bentley is on the cottage if you need to go anywhere. Though I can’t imagine where you’d need to go if you’re sick. Just rest, okay? I don’t need you getting stressed on top of feeling sick,” he said, running his fingers through my hair. It felt nice. I relaxed. Maybe I was overthinking things anyway.
He didn’t come home until after midnight. I was still on the couch because moving was agony. My body hurt, my back hurt, and I felt nauseated all night. Mrs. Watkins checked in on me throughout the evening, warmed up some chicken broth for me, and even put some egg noodles in.
Just to give you and those babies a little extra oomph, hmm?” She smiled sweetly at me. The soup sat fine, and my stomach didn’t rebel.
At 10:30, she came to check on me again, left me a cup of tea, and I dismissed her for the night.
“Feel better, Mrs. Davenport,” she said, with genuine concern.
“You can call me Amelia, Mrs. Watkins,” I said, not wanting to share the name with my mother–in–law. Every time someone called me ‘Mrs. Davenport‘, my stomach rolled, and I tensed up.
“Amelia, then,” she smiled. “Make sure you get some sleep, hm? You need to stay strong for those two little bundles.”
I caressed my growing belly and smiled. Two. Twins. We would not find out their gender until they were born. We were already talking about names for boys and girls.
I fell asleep on the couch, waiting for Matthew to come home. When he did, he was not quiet, despite the darkness in the house. I was in the den, with the TV on but no other light. He startled me awake when he slammed the front door.
“Matthew?” I called out, disoriented from having fallen asleep on the couch.
“Amelia!” He seemed stunned to find me in our own home. “I didn’t expect to see you there. Why aren’t you in bed, sweetheart?”
He came right over and sat on the coffee table in front of me. He looked at me, and I could swear I heard actual concern in his voice.
1 guess I fell asleep,” I said sheepishly. I was hit, then, by the cloying scent of roses–Seline’s perfume.
“Darling, you shouldn’t be sleeping on the couch. Think of the babies. They need you to be getting proper rest,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I don’t think the babies are aware of where I fall asleep,” I said.
“But you are. Your body needs rest, too. Good rest. Come. I’ll help you up to bed,” he smiled at me as he stood, offering me his hand.
I took it, and he gently helped me stand. He put his hand on the small of my back and led me gently to the stairs.
“Did you eat anything?” He asked.
“Mrs. Watkins warmed some soup for me and put noodles in it. And I had some tea,” I said.
“Okay, good,” he smiled. I thought maybe I was being paranoid. Or my pregnancy hormones were messing with my head. I’d heard that sometimes hormones can make pregnant women feel like their world is spinning out of control.
Matthew led me to the bedroom and helped me get comfortable under the covers. Then he went into the bathroom, and I heard him turn on the shower. At the very least, he’d wash that disgusting smell off him. Seline made the nicest things seem rotten–her sickeningly sweet and cloying perfume, for starters.
“Are you still awake?” Matthew asked as he slipped into bed beside me.
“Yes,” I said, my back to him.
“We were talking at dinner, Matthew said. I clenched my fists.
“I’m sure you were,” I said, trying to keep the sarcasm and hurt out of my voice.
“My mom thinks you should give up the law office once the babies are born. Stay home and raise the babies. That way you raise them, and me, of course, and not a nanny or strangers. We do well enough that you don’t need to work,” he said, his fingers trailing up my arm. It turned my stomach.
1 turned over and sat up.
“You want me to give up everything I’ve worked hard for?” I asked. “You want me to throw away my education, my partnership and my career?”
“It’s not ‘throwing it away,” Matthew said. “It’s taking on a different role. My mom was home to raise me, we can afford for you to stay home. You
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don’t have to stay home forever. Just take a few years off. Once the kids are in school, then you can go back. Or maybe you’ll come be legal counsel for Davenport Industries.”
“My mom worked really hard to help me go to university and then Law School,” I argued. “And I worked really hard to do well, get hired by a top firm and get a Junior Partnership in less than five years in the firm. My mentor and professor asked me to co–write a textbook. I can’t give all that up.”
“Amelia,” Matthew said, looking at me. “Think of the children. You’re working so hard, it’s hard on your body, and so is building a whole new human, let alone two! I just want what’s best for you and the kids. I know how hard you worked in university – remember? I only passed Business Law because of you. But we’re doing really well, and I want to pamper you. I don’t want you running everywhere. The stress of litigation can’t be good for you and the babies. Please, just think about it, okay?”
I looked at him incredulously.
Four years of university and then four more years of law school. The youngest Junior Partner in the history of Hoffman, Givens and Pratt. And Matthew and his mother, and presumably Seline, because she had obviously been at dinner, had discussed whether I should continue working.
I turned my back to him again and pulled the covers up to my chin..
“All I’m asking is that you think about it,” Matthew said, touching my shoulder. I pushed his hand off.
I fell into a fitful sleep.
Seeing as the next day was Saturday, and I didn’t have any responsibilities to attend to, I slept in a little longer and took my time getting ready for the day. Matthew was already out of bed when I woke up. I didn’t think much of it, because on weekends we both followed our own schedules.
I got dressed and went downstairs, hoping to make myself a nice cup of tea and read through some briefs I needed to have ready for Monday.
I was not expecting to find the Davenports in my dining room at nine in the morning.
“So nice of you to join us, Amelia, my mother–in–law said snarkily.
“What?” I said, still trying to understand what I was seeing. Matthew hadn’t mentioned anything about his parents coming over this morning. And, of course, sitting right beside my husband was Seline, looking like the cat who caught the canary.
“I said,” my mother–in–law said, raising her voice. “It is…”
“Yes, Rachel, I heard you. I wasn’t expecting company this morning,” I said, frowning and looking at Matthew. I took a quick inventory of the table. Four seats. Five people. I wasn’t even invited to this ‘breakfast‘?
“Surely Matthew told you we were coming over,” Rachel said. “It’s a good thing you have Mrs. Watkins, or we would have been waiting until noon to get a bite to eat or a cup of coffee.”
“Well,” I said, crossing my arms across my chest. “By looking at the table settings, it doesn’t look to me that you were all that concerned about my
presence.”
I saw guilt flash across Matthew’s face, as I had been looking straight at him while speaking.
“I didn’t know Seline was coming with them,” he said. “And I didn’t know when you’d be up. So I let Seline sit in your seat and I can get you a setting.
It’s not a big deal, Amelia.”
Not a big deal? I thought to myself. Yesterday I skipped dinner because I hadn’t been feeling well. Last night my husband dropped on me that he and his family had discussed my future without asking me for any input. And then this morning I wake up and find an entire brunch happening literally right under my nose, that apparently I was supposed to know about, and host, but wasn’t actually intended to be included in?
“It’s fine,” I said. “I’m just going to grab a cup of tea and go… somewhere else.”
“Amelia, Matthew pleaded as I walked towards the kitchen. “Don’t be like that. Seline wasn’t supposed to be here, and I forgot to tell you last night. I was worried about how you were feeling.”
“You were so worried, you stayed out until after midnight?” I asked.
“I lost track of time,” he said sheepishly. “I’m sorry.”
Matthew had followed me into the kitchen, where I had turned the kettle on. Mrs. Watkins was watching us, and I saw her smile kindly at me and roll her eyes. She didn’t like Seline much, either.
“And I suppose I shouldn’t be upset that Seline is, once again, seated right beside you, in my own home, Matthew?”
“Amelia, how many times do I have to explain this? Seline and I have known each other our entire lives. I didn’t know when you’d wake up and so I let her sit in your seat. I can ask her to move. It’s not a big deal.”
Yes, Matthew, it is a big deal. The fact that you don’t see what’s happening is disappointing. Don’t bother setting me a place. I have some briefs to review, which I’ll take in the study.”
“There’s nothing happening, Amelia. You’re being paranoid. It’s probably the hormones, and you’ll feel better once you have the babies. You’ll see,
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staying home to raise them will be so much more relaxing and stress–free,” he said. Still trying to push the stay–at–home–mom agenda they apparently had drawn up.
I poured the hot water into my travel mug, added some sugar, and dropped a tea bag in it. I closed the lid, turned my back on Matthew, and walked out of the kitchen without saying another word, not to him, not to his guests.
I spent the morning in the study reviewing the briefs I would need for Monday’s meetings, making necessary changes and changing what needed changing. I sighed as I finished reading through the second brief and stared at my open computer. I sent an email to my assistant with the changes to the brief that I needed made for Monday, and let her know that I was sorry I was asking her to work on the weekend. I would make it up to her somehow. Give her a day off soon, or something.
By the time I was done with my work, my stomach started to growl, and I saw that it was one in the afternoon. Definitely time to get something to eat, and hopefully, Matthew’s guests would be gone.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t so lucky. One o’clock in the afternoon, and they were all still here.
“Amelia!” Seline said as I came out of my study. “There you are!”
I looked at her incredulously, then looked over at Matthew and his parents. I couldn’t read their expressions, and I wasn’t sure I was doing a good job of hiding my disdain for finding them all still sitting in my house.
“I was in the study the whole time I said. “It’s not like you didn’t know that. Is there something you need?”
“No need to be rude, Amelia, Rachel said.
“I wasn’t being rude, Rachel,” I said. “I was caught by surprise that you’re all still sitting here.”
7
“Are we suddenly not welcome to come visit with you and our son?” Rachel asked.
“I never said, nor alluded to that,” I said. “I was stating that I was not expecting that you’d still be here.”
I don’t think that came across any better, but at this point, I didn’t care.
“Amelia, we’re just sitting and chatting, Matthew said. Seline moved closer to him as though she were the woman of the house. “We thought maybe if you got done with your work, you’d join us, and we could just have a nice afternoon together.”
I looked pointedly at Matthew and then walked away from the den and into the kitchen to make myself a sandwich.
Mrs. Watkins was cleaning the kitchen while I made my sandwich, careful to clean up after myself, so she didn’t have to repeat the work she had just done.
Seline followed me a minute later and placed a mug onto the counter where the liquid inside sloshed out on Mrs. Watkins‘ freshly wiped–down and cleaned countertop. Mrs. Watkins looked at the mug and then at Seline and rolled her eyes.
“Seline,” I said. “Mrs. Watkins just cleaned there. Could you please spill out whatever is in there into the sink and wipe where you spilled? The mug goes in the dishwasher right where you’re standing.”
Seline looked at me as if I had asked her to chop off her own arm and beat herself with it.
“Isn’t it her job to clean?” Seline looked over at Mrs. Watkins, who frowned.
“Yes, while that may be true, and her job is to tidy up, you’re a grown adult, aren’t you? You’re capable of not making a mess, and I’m sure you’re capable of wiping up a spill you created. Mrs. Watkins is our housekeeper, not your slave.”
“It’s alright, Amelia,” Mrs. Watkins said. “It’s not a big deal to wipe it up.”
“That’s not the point, Mrs. Watkins,” I said, looking at Seline. “She intentionally spilled and expects you to clean up after her.”
“That’s her job,” Seline said.
“It’s her job to maintain the house, not clean up after unappreciative guests,” I said, emphasizing the word ‘guests. “You can pick up a cloth and wipe that up yourself, Seline.”
“What’s going on in here?” Matthew asked, frowning. “Seline, how long does it take to put your mug in the dishwasher?”
“I was about to, but then Amelia told me to just leave it on the counter for Mrs. Watkins to take care of. And when I accidentally spilled some of the coffee out of it, Amelia told Mrs. Watkins to clean it up,” Seline said. I rolled my eyes.
“That’s not at all true,” Mrs. Watkins said. “Ms. Seline spilled the coffee and Mrs. Amelia asked her to wipe it up.”
“Isn’t housekeeping your job?” Matthew asked Mrs. Watkins. Seline looked at me triumphantly.
“Matthew!” I said. “She’s a housekeeper, not a slave! Her job isn’t to clean up every drop and spill an uninvited guest makes.”
“Who said Seline is uninvited?” he looked at me.
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“You told me you didn’t expect her to join your parents, although I don’t have any idea why I believed that in the first place,” I said.
“It’s just a small spill, Amelia,” Matthew said. “It’s not a big deal for Mrs. Watkins to wipe up.”
“If it’s just a small spill, and not a big deal, then I’m sure Seline is capable of picking up a rag and wiping her spill herself. And I’m willing to bet she has enough talent to open a dishwasher and put a dirty piece of crockery in it.”
“Amelia, stop being petty. Seline is a guest in our home. She shouldn’t be expected to clean,” Matthew frowned.
“Did I ask her to clean? I asked her to wipe a spill she made and put a mug in the dishwasher. 1 didn’t ask her to clear the eavestroths,” I retorted.
“Matty, it’s not a big deal. I can wipe up a tiny spill,” Seline said, her sickeningly sweet tone turning my stomach.
Unsurprisingly, even a simple task proved another way for Seline to ensure she had Matthew’s full attention. She managed to drop the mug onto the floor as she ‘wiped‘ the spill. It broke and she screamed as though she’d been shot. A tiny piece of ceramic nicked a tiny cut on her ankle. She would likely not even need a band aid.
She dropped to the floor as though that tiny piece of ceramic had severed a tendon and an artery. I rolled my eyes as Mrs. Watkins, frowning, went to get the broom and dustpan.
While Matthew treated Seline like she was in imminent danger of bleeding out all over our kitchen floor, I picked up the largest pieces of the broken mug and put them in the garbage can. Mrs. Watkins came around the island and swept up the rest of the mess.
“What happened?” Rachel and David, Matthew’s father, came into the kitchen.
“Amelia made Seline drop a mug and she got cut. I’m going to take her to be looked at,” Matthew frowned at me.
“You’re taking her…? Where?” I asked.
To the hospital, Amelia,” Matthew said. “To make sure you didn’t cause more damage!”
“You’ve nicked yourself deeper than that shaving! And you don’t run to the hospital when you do that. You stick a piece of toilet paper on your face. She doesn’t even need a band aid!” I argued.
“Oh, you’re a doctor now, too?” He frowned at me, Seline in his arms and a look of triumph on her face.
“Whatever,” I rolled my eyes. “You do what you need to do.”
“Matty! My bag!” Seline cried as they approached the door. Rachel ran, got Seline’s bag and handed it to Matthew. They left but not before Seline gave me a satisfied smile and Matthew frowned at me.
“Well, I suppose we might as well take our leave, as well,” Rachel said.
“Oh, you didn’t want to stay and chat?” I said, trying not to sound sarcastic, but secretly pushing them out the door, at least, in my mind.
“No,” Rachel said. “I don’t really see any point with Matthew and Seline gone.”
“Well, that’s a shame. To think we could have had a nice chat about the babies or what to do once they’re born.”
“I’m sure you’re capable of handling yourself,” Rachel sniffed.
She gathered her belongings and David followed out behind her.
“Thank you for brunch,” he said quietly to me. “Even though it was kind of sprung on you.”
He winked and then went out the door, closing it behind him.
I was stunned. In the four years we’d been married, David hadn’t said more than two words to me. He wasn’t intimidated by Rachel. I’d heard him admonish her for other things. But when it came to me, he’d never said a word. Not in defense of me, but also, nothing that I had heard – or overheard that was disparaging. I didn’t know what to think.
“That family, Mrs. Amelia,” Mrs. Watkins came up to me. “They don’t seem to know what they have in you, do they? And that Ms Seline. What a
of work.”
I turned to her and immediately, Mrs. Watkins‘ face dropped and she began to apologize.
piece
“Mrs. Watkins, please. Stop. You’re right. I know if Matthew had heard you he’d have something to say. But between you and I, person in my corner.”
it’s
nice
to
have
at least
I’m sorry if this is inappropriate,” I said. “But I need this.”
“You come and talk with me any time you need to vent, okay? I like you. You’re a good employer. A great boss. Working for you doesn’t feel like work, Mrs. Watkins said. I wrapped my arms around her.
Mrs. Watkins‘ arms wrapped around me.
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“Any time,” she said. Pulling away she smiled at me and then got a very motherly look on her face. “Now, you go rest. You’re building humans.”
I smiled at Mrs. Watkins and went into the den.
“Do you need anything?” She asked as I settled on the couch.
“No thank you, Mrs. Watkins. Unless you have something pressing to do, take a break. You deserve to relax and we’re going to be very busy in a few months,” I smiled. She did too.
“What time do you want me to have dinner ready?” She asked.
“I’ll see if Matthew is even going to be home. If he’s not coming home for dinner, I’ll just warm something up myself. I’ll let you know. Sound good?”
‘Just don’t stress yourself out, she smiled at me.
Mrs. Watkins went about doing whatever she needed to do and then went off to take a much deserved break in my opinion.
I picked up my phone and texted Matthew.
“Will you be home in time for dinner?” I sent.
“Don’t bother me. I don’t know. Seline’s cut was deeper than we thought. We could be here a while. Don’t wait for me for dinner, he returned.
I knew for a fact that was a lie. For that tiny cut to have been worse than it was, she would have had to have a huge chunk stuck in her. She was manipulating my husband. And the worst part?
I don’t think he cared.
