Chapter 1: The Bag My Mother Tried to Hide
I came home early to grab my laptop. Instead, I found my pregnant wife crying over a sink full of dishes while my mother relaxed on the sofa—and a sealed envelope with my wife's name hidden inside a takeout bag.
At first, I thought the worst thing my family had done was make Nia clean up after them.
I was wrong.
The meeting I was supposed to attend had been canceled at the last minute. I had forty minutes before my next appointment, so I decided to stop by the house, grab my computer, kiss my wife, and head back out.
I never imagined that forty minutes would expose a secret my mother had been hiding from me.
The first thing I heard when I opened the front door was running water.
The second was crying.
I followed the sound into the kitchen.
Nia stood at the sink with her back to me. Her dark curls were tied into a messy bun, and her cream blouse stretched gently over her pregnant stomach. One hand pressed against her lower back while the other scrubbed a greasy plate.
There were dishes everywhere.
Dirty cups covered the counter. Takeout containers filled the island. Napkins littered the floor.
My wife was nearly six months pregnant, and she was cleaning up after what looked like an entire family gathering.
"Nia?""
She jumped so badly that the plate slipped from her fingers.
She caught it before it hit the sink.
"Marcus."" She quickly wiped her cheeks.
"You're home early.""
I stared at her.
"What are you doing?""
"Cleaning up.""
"I can see that. Why are you doing all of it?""
She glanced toward the living room.
That was when I heard my mother's laughter.
I walked past Nia and entered the room.
My mother, Diane, was stretched comfortably across our cream-colored sofa, holding a glass of orange juice. My younger sister, Brielle, occupied the other end, scrolling through her phone.
Three cousins sat nearby.
The coffee table was covered with fried chicken, rice, noodles, and empty dessert boxes.
They had been eating comfortably while my pregnant wife washed their dishes.
"Marcus!"" my mother exclaimed.
"What are you doing home?""
I looked at the mess.
Then at her.
"Why is Nia cleaning everything?""
Brielle shrugged.
"Because somebody has to.""
I turned toward her.
"Excuse me?""
"Don't start, Marcus," my mother interrupted.
"Nia lives here too. She can contribute.""
"She's pregnant.""
"Pregnancy isn't an illness.""
Brielle laughed.
"Exactly. She should make herself useful instead of spending all day resting.""
I felt my jaw tighten.
"Who prepared the food?""
My mother waved her hand.
"We ordered it.""
"Who invited everyone?""
"I did.""
"And who decided my wife should clean up afterward?""
Diane gave me an irritated look.
"You're making this into something it isn't.""
I glanced toward the kitchen.
Nia stood in the doorway, one hand resting on her stomach.
Her eyes were red.
But she was still trying to smile.
That hurt more than anything.
"Nia, come sit down," I said.
"I'm almost finished.""
"You're finished now.""
My mother put her glass down.
"Marcus, don't encourage this attitude.""
I slowly turned toward her.
"What attitude?""
"You're making her think she doesn't have responsibilities.""
I stared at my mother.
"She is carrying my child. She doesn't owe anybody here a cleaning service.""
Brielle rolled her eyes.
"God, you're dramatic.""
"Then explain why you couldn't wash your own plate.""
"Because Mom said Nia would handle it.""
I looked at Diane.
"Did you tell her that?""
My mother folded her arms.
"Someone needed to keep things organized.""
"She's your daughter-in-law, not your housekeeper.""
"You're changing, Marcus.""
"No. I'm finally paying attention.""
The room went silent.
Nia approached and gently touched my arm.
"Please, honey. I don't want everyone fighting.""
I looked at her.
"You shouldn't have to beg me to defend you.""
She lowered her eyes.
Before I could say anything else, I noticed a brown takeout bag beside my mother's feet.
Unlike the other bags, it was tightly folded.
It hadn't been opened.
And Diane had positioned her foot directly in front of it.
"What's in that bag?""
"Nothing," she answered immediately.
I raised an eyebrow.
"Nothing?""
"Just something I brought.""
"Then why are you hiding it?""
"I'm not hiding anything.""
Brielle stopped scrolling.
"Mom...""
Diane shot her a warning look.
I stepped closer.
"Move your foot.""
"Marcus, don't.""
"Why?""
"It's private.""
I looked at her.
"Private from whom?""
She stood abruptly and grabbed the bag.
But I was faster.
I caught the handles.
For a moment, we stood there holding opposite ends.
Something flat shifted inside.
It wasn't food.
"Let go, Mom.""
"Give it to me.""
"Why?""
"Because you don't understand what you're getting involved in.""
I looked at Nia.
She had gone completely pale.
"What's in there?"" I asked.
Nia swallowed.
"I saw your mother putting something inside that bag earlier.""
Diane's expression changed.
"What did you see?"" I asked my wife.
Nia looked at my mother before answering.
"She had an envelope. She told Brielle to make sure nobody touched it.""
Brielle stood.
"That's not what happened.""
"Then what happened?"" I demanded.
Nobody answered.
I pulled the bag away from my mother's hands.
She reached for it again.
"Marcus!""
I unfolded the top.
Inside was a large cream-colored envelope.
My wife's name was written across the front.
NIA WILLIAMS.
My stomach tightened.
I turned it over.
There was no return address.
No postage.
Just a thick red seal across the flap.
"What is this?"" I asked.
My mother stepped toward me.
"Give it to me.""
I moved backward.
"No.""
"Marcus, listen to me.""
"Why does my wife's name appear on something you're hiding in a takeout bag?""
Diane's mouth opened.
Then closed.
I looked at the envelope again.
There was something else.
A small handwritten message beneath Nia's name.
To be delivered before the baby arrives.
My heart began pounding.
I looked at my mother.
"What does this mean?""
Her face had lost every trace of color.
And then Brielle whispered something that made the room feel ten degrees colder.
"Mom, you said he wouldn't find out until after the baby was born.""
I slowly turned toward my sister.
"What wouldn't I find out?""
Brielle covered her mouth.
Diane closed her eyes.
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For the first time in my life, my mother looked genuinely afraid.
And I hadn't even opened the envelope.
