Whos going to cook for us if you leave?
What are you doing? Where are you going? And who will make our dinner? her husband muttered, watching Claire after an argument with her motherinlaw.
Claire stared out the window at a dull, grey sky despite the early spring. In their small northern town, the sun rarely showed its face, which might explain why the locals were often grouchy and unfriendly.
She realized she was smiling less and less. The permanent crease on her forehead added ten years to her appearance.
Mom! Im going out, her daughter Chloé called.
Yes, yes, Claire replied distractedly.
Yes, what? Chloé demanded. Give me some money.
Are walks no longer free? Claire sighed.
Mom! Why are you asking all these questions? Chloé snapped. My friends are waiting, hurry up! Why so little?
Thats enough for an icecream.
Such a cheapskate, Chloé shouted, slamming the door without hearing her mothers answer.
Claire remembered the sweet little girl Chloé had been before adolescence.
Claire, Im hungry! Is it ready? Thierry, her husband, complained.
Its on the table, she said indifferently.
Could you serve it to me?
Claire almost tipped the pot over. How daring
Well eat in the kitchen, Thierry. If youre hungry, eat. Otherwise do whatever you like, she replied, sitting down alone at the table.
Fifteen minutes later Thierry entered the kitchen.
Its cold yuck.
You should have come earlier.
I asked you! No tenderness, no effort for me! You know I watch football! he growled, putting a piece of chicken in the oven. Not very good.
Claire rolled her eyes. Her husband had become obsessed with footballParis, accessories, pricey ticketsthough he had never shown any interest in sports before.
Without sitting, Thierry grabbed a beer, some chips, and returned to the TV. Claire was left to clear the dishes.
She had cooked for nothing. No one appreciated her effort.
She was exhausted after her shift at the hospital where she worked as head nurse. Every day she dealt with cranky, ill patients, endured work stress, and then faced the same draining routine at home with a mountain of chores.
Is there any left? Thierry searched the fridge for another drink. Why isnt there any?
You drank it all! Do I also have to shop for you? Have some decency, Thierry! Claire snapped.
Youre too sensitive he muttered, slamming the fridge door and heading out to stock up before the next match.
Claire decided to go to bed because she had a huge day ahead, but she couldnt fall asleep. She kept worrying about Chloéwhere she was, who she was with.
It was already pitch black, and Chloé still hadnt come home. Claire dared not call, fearing another reprimand.
Youre embarrassing me in front of my friends! Stop harassing me! Chloé shouted over the phone. After that, Claire stopped calling, reassuring herself that her daughter had just turned eighteen. She didnt want to work or study; she had finished school and taken a break to find herself.
Halfasleep, Claire heard her husbands jubilant shouts, probably after a goal, followed by lively chatter with a neighbor who had dropped by unexpectedly. The neighbor stayed with his partner to support their team together. Later that night Chloé returned, grabbed food noisily, and went to bed. When everything finally quieted down, just as Claire was about to collapse, the cat began meowing for its dinner.
Is there anyone in this house who can feed the cat besides me? exasperated and at her limit, Claire got up, hoping someone would listen. Her daughter, earbuds in, made a mocking gesture, while Thierry was already snoring in front of the TV, a can in hand.
Ive had enough really enough! Claire thought.
The next morning the phone rang; it was her motherinlaw.
Claire, dear, remember we have to plant the seedlings? We should also go to the countryside to do some cleaning
Yes, I know, Claire sighed.
So well go tomorrow.
She spent her only day off in the fields, under her motherinlaws stern gaze.
No, hold the broom like that! the older woman ordered from a bench.
Im almost fifty, Marthe, I think I know how to sweep Claire dared to reply.
Oh, if only Thierry were here
Where is your Thierry? Why didnt he come help his own mother in the country? Why did we spend three hours on the bus? And you keep talking about Thierry, Thierry
Hes tired.
And me? You think Im not tired?
That was the spark Claire regretted not staying silent. Marthe was a talkative woman who practiced a onesided justice that never favored Claire. All her life, Marthe had idolized Thierry and treated Claire like a workhorse she tolerated only out of necessity.
They each took separate buses home. The next day Marthe complained to her son, and he exploded.
How dare you speak to my mother that way? Thierry barked.
Because without her
Without her what? Claire crossed her arms, realizing she no longer wanted to accept such treatment.
Well, youd still be working at the dispensary! he retorted, recalling that Marthe had helped Claire land a position at the regional hospital. The salary was higher but came with stress and grey hairs. Claire had often regretted leaving the peaceful dispensary for this stressful hospital.
What are you doing here? his husband interrupted, seeing what Claire was preparing.
What Claire had done was something Thierry could never even imagine.
