Mom Could Remember One Daughter Each Month, but Always Chose My Sister Chapter 05

Mom Could Remember One Daughter Each Month, but Always Chose My Sister Chapter 05

When my flight landed in Portland, Ethan’s mother was already waiting by the exit.

She was holding up a huge red sign.

The sign read:

Welcome Home, Daughter-in-Law.

Two crooked hearts were drawn beside the words.

I stopped walking.

Ethan covered his face.

“I knew it.”

“She said she wanted to keep it low-key, and I actually believed her.”

Linda spotted us and rushed over.

She hugged Ethan first, then pushed him aside.

“All right, that’s enough. This isn’t about you.”

Then she turned and wrapped her arms around me.

“You must be Nora.”

“Good grief, you’re way too thin.”

My body went stiff.

She acted as if she hadn’t noticed, took my suitcase, and kept talking the whole way.

“Dinner’s ready.”

“Your room is all set.”

“If you need anything, you tell Mom. Don’t be shy.”

The word Mom made my eyes sting.

Ethan had told her what happened at the wedding.

I thought she might ask why my own mother hadn’t shown up for something as important as my wedding.

But she never mentioned it.

When we got home, I saw that the living room had been redecorated.

Red-and-gold wedding banners hung on the walls.

White camellias filled the tables.

In the center stood the wooden sign that had been smashed apart.

The cracks were still obvious.

The missing piece, however, had been replaced.

Ethan had carved the new piece by copying Dad’s handwriting.

Nora, keep moving forward. Dad will walk you down the aisle.

I stood in front of the sign, and tears rushed into my eyes.

Linda quickly pressed a tissue into my hand.

“Why are you crying?”

“Did this idiot glue it badly?”

Ethan looked offended.

“Mom, I worked on it all night.”

“Yes, yes, you’re very talented.”

After brushing him off, Linda went into the bedroom and brought out an old jewelry box.

Inside was a gold bangle.

“I wore this when I got married.”

“It’s a little old-fashioned, but keep it for now.”

I instinctively pushed it back.

“Linda, this is too much.”

Linda’s expression hardened.

“What did you call me?”

I opened my mouth.

The word caught in my throat, and I couldn’t make it come out.

She didn’t pressure me. She simply took my hand and slowly slipped the gold bangle over my wrist.

“Marriage isn’t supposed to mean moving from one home to another just to be mistreated.”

“Once you walk through this door, you’re part of another family.”

“If Ethan ever gives you trouble, you tell me.”

“I’ll deal with him myself.”

Ethan laughed beside us.

“As if I would dare.”

Linda shot him a look.

“You be quiet.”

“I’m talking to my daughter.”

I couldn’t hold back my tears anymore.

For twenty years, Mom hadn’t even been willing to remember my name.

The woman in front of me had met me only once and was already willing to call me her daughter.

I lowered my head and spoke softly.

“Mom.”

Linda froze. Her eyes immediately turned red.

She pulled me into her arms.

“There you go.”

“You have a mom who’ll love you now.”

I folded into her arms and cried until I could barely breathe.

Back home, Margaret sat alone at the dining table.

Several boxes of medication were spread across it.

She stared at them for a long time but couldn’t tell which ones she was supposed to take before eating.

I used to sort her pills every week.

The red box was for mornings.

The blue box was for nights.

If she forgot, I called to remind her.

Now none of the boxes had labels.

Margaret called Sophie.

The phone rang for a long time before Sophie finally answered.

Music blared in the background.

Sophie asked impatiently:

“Mom, what is it?”

“Logan and I are having dinner with his boss.”

Margaret asked how she was supposed to take her medication.

Sophie was silent for a few seconds.

“Just follow the instructions on the bottle.”

“You used to handle little things like that yourself, didn’t you?”

Margaret tightened her grip on the phone.

She had never handled it herself before.

But Sophie didn’t know that.

That night, Margaret took the wrong medication.

She had just stepped into the bathroom when her vision suddenly went dark.

Her body hit the floor hard.

She struggled to reach her phone and called Sophie three times in a row.

The first call was rejected.

The second was rejected, too.

After the third, Sophie sent a message.

“Stop calling me over and over.”

“His boss is still here. Do you have to ruin everything?”

In the end, a neighbor heard the noise, forced the door open, and took her to the hospital.

The nurse searched Margaret’s phone and found a pinned file.

The file was named Medication Instructions.

When she opened it, my voice came through the phone.

“Take the white pill first thing in the morning.”

“Take the blue pill after food.”

“If you feel dizzy or your heart starts racing, call your treating neurologist immediately.”

The nurse used the recording to contact the clinic.

The doctor pulled up Margaret’s medical records from previous years.

In the thick stack of files, every caregiver signature belonged to the same person.

Nora Bennett.

Margaret stared at my name for a long time.

The doctor placed a test report in front of her.

“Ms. Bennett, your new monthly emotional memory anchor has to be selected soon.”

“This time, you need to think carefully.”