Because much of my work required discretion, Wesley’s family assumed I held some insignificant government position. Margaret often called me “practical” and gave me cleaning supplies at Christmas while her daughters opened jewelry.
Once, she handed me an apron embroidered with the words Know Your Rank.
Everyone laughed then too.
I tolerated it because Wesley always insisted his mother was “complicated.” But motherhood had changed something inside me. Every insult I accepted now became a lesson June might one day learn to accept herself.
Margaret stepped closer with the collar.
“Oh, Nora, don’t look so serious. It’s only a joke.”
“Please put it away,” I said.
Her smile sharpened.
“It wasn’t cheap.”
Then she reached toward my baby.
I stepped back.
June woke and began to cry.
“Give her to me,” Margaret demanded. “You’re making her nervous.”
“No.”
The word silenced the room.
I looked toward Wesley, waiting for him to defend us. He shifted uncomfortably but said nothing until Margaret reached again.oukhtouu,,
