And again.
Nobody even looked at the television anymore.
Gladys slowly turned toward me.
“You left the livestream on.”
Her voice had lost every ounce of confidence.
I folded my arms.
“You were the one who asked me to stream the gathering.”
“I meant the game.”
“I streamed the gathering.”
She looked around the room as though someone might rescue her.
Nobody did.
She took a step toward my phone.
“You need to end it.”
I reached the bookshelf first, picked up my phone, and looked at the flood of comments.
People who never commented suddenly found their voices.
Most of them defended me.
Still, not everyone agreed with how it had all played out.
One relative said I should’ve turned the livestream off instead of letting Gladys embarrass herself.
An aunt called me vindictive.
One cousin insisted Gladys had only done what a mother was supposed to do and called me the real villain for forgetting my place as a wife.
Grandma Helen replied before I could. “Gladys, I raised you better than that.”
The room went completely silent.
Everyone respected Grandma Helen.
Including Gladys, especially Gladys.
A moment later, another comment from her appeared.
“The camera didn’t make Gladys say those things. It simply made sure everyone heard them.”
Gladys swallowed.
“Mother doesn’t understand what happened.”
I looked at her. “Then explain it.”
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Because there was nothing to explain.
Everyone had heard exactly what she’d said.
There was no missing context and no misunderstanding. Just her own words.
She straightened her shoulders.
“I was trying to help my son.”
I laughed.
It surprised even me.
“You called me a bad wife.”
“I told the truth.”
A sharp gasp came from Eli’s youngest sister.
Gladys looked at her.
“What?”
“You should stop talking,” she whispered.
Gladys ignored her.
“My generation understood that marriage meant sacrifice.”
“My generation understands marriage means partnership,” I replied.
She scoffed.
“Partnership?”
She pointed toward the kitchen.
“If you’d managed your time better, you wouldn’t have spent all afternoon cleaning.”
I stared at her.
“I spent all afternoon cleaning because nobody else lifted a finger.”
She waved that away.
“That’s what a hostess does.”
