Then, my mother–in–law, bless her soul, came
to the rescue. She flew across the country as soon as she heard. “Don’t worry, Ashley. I took
care of my daughter after she had her baby. They were both healthy and happy.” She stayed
for two years, and we got along great. She went
back home when Ethan started preschool. Last
year, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. I
insisted Josh bring her to New York for
treatment. I took care of her. She deserved it.
Taking care of Mom? That was just paying a
debt. Mom always told me about how I was
seriously ill when I was three, and she stayed up
night after night holding me. She told me that
story over and over, as if to prove she hadn’t
neglected me. Well, the debt was paid now.
After the call with Josh, I turned off my phone. I
didn’t go back to Mom’s birthday dinner. That
night, I told Josh everything.
“I never told you about my family. I didn’t know
how. They didn’t abuse me. They didn’t deprive
<
me of anything material. But I was never happy.
I always felt…cheated. Like I was asking for too
much.”
Josh held me close. “You just wanted them to
give you the candy sometimes, not always
Sarah. But they believed Sarah deserved it,
because she was younger and weaker, and you
were the older sister, so you had to be the
bigger person. You were never truly seen.
وو
I sniffed. He was right. That was exactly it.
“You know what my parents would do?” he
asked. I shook my head.
“If there was only one piece of candy, they’d
give it to my sister and let her decide how to
share it. As long as she had a reason, even if
she kept it all, they wouldn’t argue. Usually,
she’d split it with me. But if she said, ‘I helped
Mom with the chores today, so this candy is my
reward,‘ they’d agree. They’d acknowledge her
contribution. So, she learned that being kind to
me earned praise and rewards. And I learned
that her kindness wasn’t an obligation, it was
something to be grateful for and reciprocate.
<
Over time, it became her habit to be kind, and
my habit to return the favor. That’s why we’re
so close. There’s equality between us. No one
is obligated to give more. Your parents‘ way
was wrong. Trust me, we’ll do better.”
I saw my family again three months later. I’d
ignored their calls and texts, so they showed up
at our apartment, demanding an explanation. “I thought you understood,” I said calmly. “I’ve
paid my dues. When you’re old, I’ll fulfill my
legal obligations. Nothing more.”
Dad stared at me, stunned. Mom clutched her
chest, speechless. Sarah jumped up. “Ashley!
How can you say that?!”
“Quiet, you,” I snapped.
Mom finally found her voice. “What do you
mean?”
I pulled out a worn notebook from under the
coffee table. It contained a detailed record of
every penny I’d received from them, from
middle school to college graduation. “I don’t
remember the expenses before that, so I added
an extra $10,000. It’s probably more than what I
く
actually owed. Then there’s the $30,000 for the
home renovations, the $10,000 for Dad’s car,
the $3,500 for Mom’s medical bills – all paid by
- me. I’m guessing Sarah didn’t contribute a
dime.”
Sarah looked away. “I wasn’t working after I
had the baby. I didn’t have any money.”
I ignored her. Mom opened her mouth, then
closed it.
“Add it all up, including your birthday gifts every
year, it covers everything I owe you. Oh, minus
the $1,000 I took back. I’ll transfer that to you
now. You paid for my birthday parties when I
was little, I’ve paid for yours since college,
we’re even. We both took care of each other
when we were sick, we’re even there too. So,
tell me, what else do I owe you?”
Dad buried his face in his hands. “I… I didn’t
know… that you resented us so much.”
Mom’s eyes were red. “All this, just for these
petty things? Is it really worth it?”
I stared at her. “Yes, it is. During the years I
needed love the most, you gave it all to Sarah. I
<
got the scraps, and you told me it was because
I was the older sister. Do you know how much I
hate being Sarah’s older sister? Do you know
how much I suffered? So much that I almost…”
I stopped. My homeroom teacher had found me
on the roof that day. I didn’t know if I would
have jumped if she’d been a minute later.
Mom stared at me, horrified. I think she saw the
genuine hatred in my eyes. She trembled and
collapsed on the sofa.
Nine months later, I had a daughter. Ethan was
thrilled, constantly fussing over his baby sister.
“Olivia needs me a lot,” I told him. “I’ll have less
time to play with you. Will you be angry?”
He blinked, snuggling against me. “A little bit,”
he said, holding up his thumb and forefinger a
tiny bit apart.
“What will make you feel better?”
He thought for a moment, and I waited
patiently. “If Daddy builds Lego with me every
day, and you read me an extra story, I won’t be
angry.”
I smiled. “Why?”
He gave me a look, like I’d asked a silly
question. “Because those are special, just for
- me. Olivia doesn’t get them. You love Olivia,
and you love me.‘
Tears welled up in my eyes. I finally understood
how to be a mother of two. When you give a
child something uniquely theirs, you give them a
unique love. And I would give both my children
all the love they needed.
