Chapter 2

It was a month later before the mother-in-law and Arthur Dickerson came back.

The second she stepped through the door, her face dark, she slapped Arthur across the cheek.

"You're twenty-eight. How are you as worn out as a man of eighty-two?"

"Back in the day your father was strong as an ox at forty-eight. How could you let a rich man's daughter-in-law kick you out of bed?"

Arthur crouched on the floor, defeated, his eyes ringed with black, sighing and groaning.

"I don't know either. It was all fine before. I can't figure out why it went wrong this time."

"It's because you've gone soft. Too long without hard labor, and your body's turned dainty."

Arthur shot to his feet, hoisted the hoe onto his shoulder, and headed out.

"I'll go turn the soil right now. Next time I go over there, I'll get Cordelia pregnant with another son for sure!"

I watched his back as he left, a sneer on my lips.

Another son?

He didn't have that kind of luck anymore.

The mother-in-law, who hadn't once looked me in the eye, suddenly turned to me, all orders and airs.

"Fern Smith, what are you standing around for? Is the firewood split? The water hauled? The meal cooked?"

"When Arthur gets back in a bit, are you going to make him wait for his food?"

Grovels like a nobody out there, comes home wanting to be the master of the house?

All these years I'd worked myself like an animal keeping this house running, and between the poor nutrition and the endless labor, I'd lost two babies, one after the other.

And even after a miscarriage, I still had to do the chores, because the moment the mother-in-law lifted a finger she ached all over and cried and moaned about it.

Back then I'd thought that Arthur and I were husband and wife, and she was the only mother he had, so I couldn't just leave her be.

But I didn't even want Arthur anymore. Who was still going to coddle her?

"I'm recovering. I can't do it."

Her triangle eyes bulged. She crossed her arms and glared at me.

"You won't do it, so what, I'm supposed to?"

"Over at the rich daughter-in-law's, I had everything handed to me, food brought right to my mouth."

"If crossing over didn't max out at one month, you think I'd come back here to suffer?"

I rolled my eyes at her and started walking out.

She caught up in a few strides, blocked my way, and let loose.

"Fern Smith, you've completely lost your mind!"

"If our Arthur hadn't been soft-hearted enough to marry you, who'd have wanted a parentless jinx like you?"

I raised my eyes to her and pointed out the door. "If you don't want to live here, then get out. This house was left to me by my parents."

Back then Arthur's family had nothing, not even a house.

My own parents had died early, and I'd figured Arthur was honest, simple, and knew his place.

Marrying him would mean a hard life, but at least I wouldn't be pushed around.

What I never imagined was that a man that honest could raise his hand against his own flesh and blood.

She stood there frozen, her face flushed with rage. "You cheap little slut, is that how you talk to me? I'm your mother-in-law. Say something that wicked and unfilial, and you'll be struck down by lightning!"

Struck down by lightning?

They'd killed the baby I carried ten months in my belly. Was I afraid of lightning?

I fixed her with a cold, hard stare. "Who ends up struck down by lightning is far from decided!"

Her face went white, and she didn't keep chasing me down to curse.

That night she boiled two bowls of noodles. There was no portion for me.

Arthur curled his lip in disgust and grumbled, "This is it? I want lobster, abalone, a pot roast."

She shot me a vicious look. "Conditions here aren't a match for the rich daughter-in-law's. You'll just have to make do."

"Once we've stayed out our days here, we go straight back. I won't put up with this misery."

Go back?

Soon enough she'd never go back again.

Arthur pulled a long face, ate only a few bites, and went into the room to sleep.

Arthur, who was sleeping farthest in against the wall, suddenly burrowed into my covers and started pawing at me, shameless.

My eyes snapped open and met his leering ones. "What do you think you're doing?"

He gave a couple of oily chuckles. "I want to test whether turning the soil worked. Don't want Cordelia getting upset with me again when I go back."

I stared at him, cold-eyed, and slapped him across the face. "Arthur Dickerson, you have no shame! I want a divorce!"