Chapter 3

The next day, there was actually a sheet of paper stuck to the refrigerator.

The title read "Household Austerity Guidelines."

Below it were dozens of rules, packed tight—

1. Daily food money shall not exceed five dollars, mostly vegetables, with meat dishes no more than twice a week.

2. Water used for washing hands, washing vegetables, and bathing must be caught in a basin and used to flush the toilet.

3. Shower no more than once a week, and no longer than five minutes each time.

4. Lights out and to bed promptly at 8 p.m. No staying up late to watch TV or use your phone.

5. Toilet paper: each person, no more than two squares per use.

...

Two squares of paper?!

My eyes went wide before I could stop them.

My vision went black in waves, and I couldn't read any further.

One phone call brought my son back home.

"Take a look at what your dear wife came up with!" I slapped the paper down on the table.

My son picked it up and read it through, start to finish.

Then he actually smiled, his face full of approval.

"Mom, Edwina's only doing this for the good of the family."

"Look how detailed these rules are. She's covered everything—food, clothing, housing, the works."

For our good? I stared at him in disbelief.

My son seemed to suddenly remember something and turned to his wife.

"Oh, right—Dad also takes some really expensive supplements. Did you know that?"

"That should be controlled too. Put it in the rules!"

Hearing this, the old man got so angry he pounded the table.

"What supplements! That's my blood pressure medication!"

My son put on an earnest, well-meaning act.

"Dad, take it easy, I'm not saying you can't take your medicine."

"But blood pressure pills only cost a few dollars a bottle, don't they? You insist on the imported kind, several hundred a box."

"Isn't that just having too much money to burn?"

I forced my anger down and explained.

"Your father's regular medication doesn't work for him. Only that imported one does any good."

"And that medicine is very hard to get. Every time I have to ask someone to buy it for me."

"It's a lifesaver. We can't cut corners on it."

Edwina curled her lip beside us. "She's just being dramatic."

"Isn't medicine just a few ingredients? What difference can there be between domestic and imported?"

"He'll get used to it. Dad's this old already, he's not so delicate."

I glared at her. "Absolutely not!"

"This medicine will not be switched, don't even think about it!"

Seeing how firm I was, Edwina said nothing more.

She just quietly shot my son a look.

He got the message and waved his hand.

"Fine, fine, keep taking it then. Forget I said anything."

After that day, the old man started to seem off.

His blood pressure swung high and low, often spiking to 170 or 180, with all kinds of discomfort along with it.

I was worried. "Why don't we go to the hospital and get it checked?"

"No need. It's probably just the heat lately, and getting angry with them. It's normal for the blood pressure to be unstable."

He waved me off; he didn't want the fuss.

I knew he was afraid of spending money, and even more afraid that if our son and daughter-in-law found out, they'd never let it go.

Then one day, the old man suddenly said he was terribly dizzy.

His blood pressure had actually reached over 200.

I panicked.

If this went wrong—cerebral hemorrhage, stroke—either one could be fatal.

I was about to take him to the hospital when the doorbell rang.

It was a middle-aged man I didn't recognize.

"Hello, is this Edwina Sears's place? I'm here to pick up the medicine."

"What medicine?" I wasn't sure what he meant.

The man explained, "That imported blood pressure medication."

"Edwina's sold me several boxes already. She said the old folks at home couldn't finish it, so she was letting it go cheap."

"I accidentally lost a box from last time, so I came early this round."

What? My head buzzed all at once.

I spun around and rushed to the TV cabinet, examining the old man's medicine closely.

The size of the pills was wrong.

Finally I understood.

The medicine had been secretly switched by my daughter-in-law! And she'd taken the real medicine and sold it for cash!

No wonder his blood pressure had been shooting up these past few days.

Thinking back to the look those two exchanged that day, my son surely knew about this too.

The old man and I looked at each other, and a wave of bitter sorrow rose up in us.