"What right does a barren hen have to be angry? Wendy, let's eat. We can't let my precious grandson go hungry. What's the difference between a woman who can't have children and a cripple? Who else would want her if she leaves?"
They didn't know my decision to leave wasn't a childish tantrum.
I honestly had no intention of ever returning.
Just as I was dragging my suitcase towards the entryway, Jonathan suddenly called out to me.
"Daphne Lancaster." His voice held its usual commanding tone.
"Give that pregnant stray cat you've been keeping to Wendy. She's always wanted a little animal to be born around the same time as the baby."
I stopped in my tracks. Outside, the orange tabby tied to the tree whined and rubbed against the leash when it saw me.
I remembered how Jonathan had disgustedly kicked the cat several times when I started feeding it.
I had knelt and begged him for a long time before he finally agreed to let me keep it, but only outside.
Now Wendy says one word and suddenly he's all heart.
When I didn’t respond, Jonathan clicked his tongue impatiently.
"It's just a stray cat. Don't act so dramatic. Don't tell me you're actually attached to it."