I walked to the bookshelf, picked up the wedding photograph, and carried it to the mantel.
I moved one maternity picture slightly to the side and put my husband back where he had always been.
“I prefer my husband where I can see him.”
Nobody spoke.
I smiled at the guests.
“Enjoy the cake, ladies. It’s a lovely afternoon.”
Then I found the rest of my family photographs in a cardboard box and began hanging them back up.
One by one.
Exactly where they belonged.
The tapping of the hammer traveled down the hallway.
Harper didn’t confront me in front of her friends.
The shower ended not long afterward.
I went to my bedroom and locked the door.
Harper cleaned up her own wrapping paper, plates, cups, and cake crumbs.
By then there was no pretending we were simply experiencing normal mother-in-law and daughter-in-law friction.
Harper wanted control over a house that wasn’t hers.
I had stopped giving it to her.
And eventually she decided the problem was not her behavior.
The problem, apparently, was me.
The moving boxes
I was sitting on the back patio reading the newspaper when David and Harper came outside together.
The sight of them told me the conversation had been rehearsed.
David looked miserable.
Harper looked determined.
“Mom,” David said. “We need to talk.”
I folded the paper.
“I’m listening.”
Harper stepped forward before he could continue.
“This arrangement isn’t working anymore, Georgia. You are making my pregnancy miserable.”
I waited.
“You lock up food. You won’t let me control the thermostat. You embarrassed me in front of my friends. We can’t live like this.”
“I completely agree.”
She hesitated.
“It’s stressful for everyone,” I said.
Harper gathered herself again.
“So you need to leave.”
There it was.
Again.
“Go stay with your sister in Florida,” she continued, “or rent a condo. If you don’t leave by the end of the month, we will—”
She stopped.
I never found out what came after “we will.”
Maybe she didn’t know either.
It was a bluff, but she expected it to work because she still believed my fear of losing my son would be stronger than my respect for myself.
I stood.
Without arguing, I walked inside and opened the hall closet.
There were several flattened cardboard moving boxes stored there.
I carried three of them to the patio.
Then I handed them to Harper.
She looked down.
“What is this?”