Chapter 3 - The Gathering Storm
Susan didn't cook. Naturally, that would have meant conceding defeat, and Susan Vance had never conceded a battle in her entire sixty-two years on earth. Instead, she retreated into the master guest suite, slammed the door so hard that a family picture frame shook on the wall, and spent the entire afternoon waging psychological warfare through her husband.
Richard Vance, Daniel’s father, was a quiet, weary man whose entire existence seemed dedicated to maintaining peace at any cost. At around noon, Richard shuffled timidly out onto the deck with an empty stomach and an anxious smile. He scratched his balding head, looking nervously between Daniel and me.
""Hey, kids,"" Richard murmured, shifting his weight. ""Look, uh... your mom is pretty worked up inside. She hasn't had her morning tea, her blood sugar is dropping, and she’s talking about calling an Uber back to the city. Can't we just... you know, smooth this over? If Maggie’s resting, maybe Daniel, you and I could just run to the country club, grab some takeout, bring Susan a nice Cobb salad, and move those flower boxes around the side where she won't see them?""
""Dad, stop,"" Daniel said, his voice laced with profound sadness. ""Look at yourself. You’ve been tiptoeing around her tantrums for thirty-five years, and you’re asking us to make Maggie tiptoe around her in her own home. Did you notice Maggie’s hands yesterday? Did you notice she didn't sit down once from seven in the morning until ten at night?""
Richard looked down at his docksiders, ashamed. ""Maggie is a wonderful hostess. She likes to keep busy—""
""She was terrified, Richard,"" I cut in, standing up to face my father-in-law. ""She was terrified that if she didn't cater to every whim, Susan would make Daniel’s life miserable, or worse, whisper poison into your family’s ears about how awful we are. My mother spent forty years working as a public school nurse. She bought this cabin with her late husband’s pension. She is not Susan's servant, and she never will be again.""
Richard rubbed his tired face with both hands, letting out a long, shuddering sigh. ""I know. God help me, I know. But you don't know what Susan’s like when she feels slighted. She doesn't just get mad; she gathers an army. She’s already on the phone with Daniel’s aunts, his cousins, and her sister in Chicago. She’s spinning a narrative that you two ambushed her, starved her, and threw her out into the wilderness.""
Right on cue, my phone began to buzz frantically against the wooden table.
It was a text from Daniel’s cousin, Amanda: What is wrong with you guys? Aunt Susan is hysterical crying in her room! She says Chloe screamed at her over some cheap porch plants and kicked Maggie out of the house to spite her? Daniel, call your mother right now!
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Another message pinged from Daniel’s Aunt Brenda: Family respect means everything, Daniel. Your father worked hard his whole life. Treating your mother this way over chores is disgusting.
Daniel looked at the screen, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek. He looked up at Richard, whose eyes begged him to just apologize and make the noise stop. Instead, Daniel picked up his phone, snapped a crystal-clear photo of the beautiful scarlet geraniums sitting proudly on the sunlit deck, and drafted a reply to the family group chat that would blow the lid off Susan’s carefully constructed drama.
