Chapter 2

So the honeymoon ended, and I moved in with Ervin to his parents' house.

The place was over eighteen hundred square feet, with two big bedrooms. His parents took one, Juliana took the other.

That left one small room for Ervin and me.

It stuck in my chest.

I wouldn't fight the old folks for their room, fine. But what gave Juliana, one single woman, the right to the other big bedroom?

I asked my husband, "Whose idea was this?"

He answered without missing a beat. "Juliana set it up."

"And what do you think?"

"It's not for long anyway. Just put up with it."

I didn't say anything else.

This wasn't about putting up with it. His sister was targeting me.

If it was like this on day one, God only knew what came next.

Sure enough, it came.

Early the next morning, while I was still dreaming under the covers, Juliana banged on the door and called me out.

"Evelyn, quit sleeping. You waiting for someone to wait on you?"

"You're the youngest one in this house. If you don't cook, who's going to?"

"Go on, get breakfast started!"

It was too early in the morning to get into it with her.

Besides, my in-laws were still asleep, and I didn't want a scene.

So I went into the kitchen.

My first time cooking there was a mess. The porridge came out too thick, the eggs overcooked.

Still, for a first attempt, it wasn't bad.

At the table, I figured Ervin owed me at least one kind word.

Instead, he glanced at his sister and actually said, "Evie, you tell me. How is anyone supposed to eat food you cooked like this?"

The words caught in my throat.

I turned to look at my in-laws.

They pretended they hadn't heard.

Juliana spoke up.

There was a sneer in her voice.

"Spoiled rotten by her own parents."

Then she looked at her brother.

"Don't talk about your wife that way, though. Nobody's really stupid. It's just a matter of putting your heart into it. Put your heart in and there's nothing you can't do right."

That last part was for me.

The message underneath was clear enough: from now on, the cooking was mine.

Oh. So having us move back here was just to get a free maid.

With my temper, I'd have flipped the table right then.

I didn't.

I held it in. I wanted to hear what my own husband would say.

Surely he couldn't stay quiet at a time like this.

Ervin opened his mouth. "Juliana's right. Evie, I believe you'll only get better and better."

That settled my guess.

So it turned out the whole family was of one mind.

A sneer curled up inside me.

But my face stayed calm as I answered, "Don't worry. I'll try harder."

The family exchanged a look, and they all smiled.

I smiled too. On the inside.

After that.

I started waiting on the whole family at every meal.

Every day before dawn I got up and walked to the market two miles away to buy groceries.

I'd come back, wash the vegetables, trim them, get everything ready in advance.

Every day I came home from work with no time to catch my breath, straight into a change of clothes and into the kitchen.

From morning to night I was worn until my bones felt like they'd come apart.

And while I was busy in the kitchen, what was the rest of them doing?

Not sitting idle, exactly.

Juliana kept my in-laws company, chatting, cracking sunflower seeds, watching TV.

Ervin sprawled on the couch scrolling videos.

Not one of them came into the kitchen to help me.

It wasn't like that at first, actually.

At first Ervin looked like he meant to help. But the second his backside lifted off the couch, his sister shot him a glare, and he sat right back down.

After a while it just became the way things were.

As my soft hands turned rough and my cooking got better and better, I never once heard any praise.

What I heard, always, was criticism.

If the food wasn't too salty it was too bland. If there wasn't too much oil there was too little.

Once, Juliana was eating and suddenly slammed her chopsticks down.

"Evelyn, don't you have a brain? I've told you a hundred times not to put ginger in the sautéed mushrooms, and you still did it. What is going on in your head?"

I didn't answer. I turned to look at Ervin.

He kept his head down, eating, not even lifting his eyelids.

As if the one being sneered at wasn't his wife, but some other person entirely.

Little by little.

My heart went cold.