My SIL Charged $2,000 on My Credit Card for an Easter Feast and Treated Me Like Her Maid – But the Surprise at the Airport Left Her in Tears

"It's just for a couple of days."

Becca smiled. "You're a lifesaver, Talia."

No, I thought. I'm just too tired to fight.

***

I came back from the guest room already out of breath, and Jessie had somehow managed to spill apple juice across the couch.

"Jessie, sweetheart —" I started.

"Oops," Becca said from the armchair, barely glancing up from her phone. "You'll sort that out, Tals?"

Thomas was already reaching for paper towels. I handed Spencer to him and crouched before I could stop myself. Pain pulled low across my stomach so sharply that I had to bite back a sound.

"You're a lifesaver, Talia."

"Talia," Thomas said quietly, "don't. You shouldn't be doing all that, honey."

"Then stop your niece from baptizing the furniture," I muttered.

***

By bedtime, the house felt occupied.

I found Matthew's sock under the coffee table and Jonah inside the kitchen cabinet where I kept Spencer's bottles.

"Buddy, no," I said, crossing the room. "That's stuff for your baby cousin."

Before I got there, Becca called from the bathroom. "Talia? Is this your expensive shampoo?"

"Just use whatever's open, please, Becca."

By bedtime, the house felt occupied.

"Well, I don't want the cheap one," she called back. "It dries my hair out."

Thomas looked over. "Want me to say something?"

"Not tonight, honey," I said. "She'll make it ugly."

***

The next morning was worse.

I was in the kitchen in an old robe, Spencer tucked against my chest, stirring oatmeal with one hand when Matthew wandered in and looked into the pot.

"That's breakfast?"

I looked at him. "Yes, that's breakfast."

He opened the fridge. "Don't you have any eggs? And bacon? And fresh avocado?"

"She'll make it ugly."

"We have eggs, Matthew."

"Then why are we eating oatmeal?"

"Because it takes three minutes, and I got forty-two minutes of sleep between midnight and four."

He nodded, and even he looked embarrassed. "Right."

Becca walked in, looked at me, and said, "You know what would help you? A little routine. If you showered and got dressed every morning, you'd probably feel more like yourself."

I stared at her.

"Then why are we eating oatmeal?"

Becca's eyebrows lifted. "What?"

Thomas muttered, "Becca, stop, please."

She ignored him. "I'm just saying, motherhood isn't a free pass to let yourself go."

I looked down at Spencer, who had milk on his chin.

"I had surgery just days ago, Becca."

"And I had three natural births," she replied. "Women bounce back differently, sure. But it helps if you don't make yourself a victim."

That line stayed with me all day. Not because it was wise, but because it was so casually cruel.

'Becca, stop, please.'

***

By afternoon, she was calling from the tub.

"Talia? Do you have that eucalyptus bath stuff? And can you chill me a Chardonnay?"

I was making plain pasta because Matthew had already announced, "And no spicy food this time."

Thomas reached for the wine bottle. "I'll do it."

"No," I said. "I've got it."

He lowered his voice. "You need to sit."

"I will. I'll rest soon."