Mother Knows Best

Includes adult content.

“She thinks you hate her.” 

“I don’t.”

My fiancée looked doubtful. He leaned against the counter across from me. “You barely spoke to her the last time she was here. She’s dreamed of having daughters, and you’re the closest thing to one she’ll have.”

“I have been nothing but polite to her,” I said stiffly. “I have nothing against your mother.”

“And so are you,”he smiles. “Which is why I’m counting on you to make her feel… welcomed.”

I didn’t say anything, which he takes as a cue to continue. “I just know that you two could grow to be friends- you share a lot in common.” 

As far as I knew, we didn’t. She was a people-person- I was on the very other end of the spectrum: prickly and cold. 

“Why don’t you write letters to her?” Adrien says brightly. “She would love that.”

“Sure,” I gave in. “I’ll write her a letter.” 

I wasn’t great with words, and I was even worse with flowery writing. There was a level of creativity I just couldn’t reach. 

I stared at the paper in front of me. So entirely blank, reflecting exactly what I desired to say to her. I start with the greeting. 

Mrs. Stein, 

Then nothing. 

I groaned internally. I shouldn’t have agreed with this. I can’t do flowery, so I’ll go with the truth. 

I have recently realized that I have an opportunity to grow closer to you. Forgive me if I have been reserved or cold to you in the past, I struggle to connect with others. 

Preparations for the wedding have made me realize how truly important real connections are. I’d be honored if we could be pen pals. What do you say? 

I signed off and sealed it in an envelope. 

She responds a few days later. 

 Andrea,

 I appreciate the effort you’re putting into our friendship. I understand that social anxiety can be a struggle, and I want you to know that I admire your determination to overcome it. The fact that you're taking these steps shows me just how resilient you are. I’m very excited to have you as a pen pal. 

And please, call me Aileen. 

Aileen

She understood. She didn’t think I was a monster.

Heart full, I picked up my pen and began to write. 

Aileen, 

Thanks for your understanding. 

Preparations for the wedding are admittedly exhausting. The pressure to create a perfect wedding have me very off-kilter. 

When I tell other people about my life, they automatically assume I want children. Honestly, I’m scared to have them. We have a misfortunate history with pregnancy in the family that I’d rather not go into. 

Additionally, I wouldn’t make a great mother- nothing like you. You’re warm and patient. I lack maternal instinct. It all bothers me more than I’d like to admit. I’m a bit lost on how to approach this. 

Adrien says it’s fine if we don’t have children, but I sense that he secretly longs for them. He would be a great father, and I don’t want to deny him that. 

How do you manage it all? 

Andrea

There it was again. The truth I haven’t been able to confess to anyone.

Like clockwork, Aileen’s next letter came. 

Andrea, 

The feeling is completely natural. It’s going to be a beautiful wedding, and you’re going to be an even more beautiful bride. 

I’d like to also share something deeply personal with you.

Just before having Adrien, we were expecting a baby girl the autumn of that year, but we suffered a truly painful loss- we got into a car accident one night. It was raining, and the car had swerved into another car head-on. The baby wasn’t going to survive, so they aborted the rest of her. It haunts me to this day. We were going to name her Audrina. I still have a box of the pictures the doctors gave us. 

 I was suicidal. In the end, I am glad I chose not to commit suicide, but sometimes, the guilt and grief are more potent. 

If you are to ever consider children, please keep this in mind: life is fragile and full of bumps in the road, but we just have to search for the silver linings.

At your wedding, you should reserve seats for the deceased up front. I understand you have lost your father a while back as well, you’ll feel a little less alone. 

Aileen

My sadness curdled into surprise. Reserve seats for the dead? 

Absolutely not. I understand that she was trying to make me feel better, and honor the dead, but it wouldn’t ease anyone’s grief.

That night, Adrien noticed my distressed mood at dinner. 

“What’s the matter?” He asked.

I knew I had to acknowledge his mother’s suggestion eventually. Maybe he would have some insight. 

I sighed. “I was writing to your mother,”

His expression brightened. “Oh, that’s great!” 

I nodded. “She gave us a suggestion for the wedding.” 

“Oh? Well, what is it?” 

I avoided looking into his eyes. “She wants us to reserve seats for the dead at the ceremony. In the front.” 

Adrien’s smile dropped. “She wants what?” 

“Yes.” 

There was a long pause. 

“Do you want that?” He asked finally. 

I shook my head. “No. The whole idea gives me a really, really bad feeling.” I rubbed my temples. “I do miss my father, but I don’t want to do that.” 

“We don’t have to do that if you don’t want to. It’s your special day, she’s had her own.” 

He was sincere, but I still had to ask. 

“Is that what you want?” 

Adrien grimaced. “I understand where she’s coming from, but it’s too much.”

It took me a few days to respond to Aileen’s proposal. 

Aileen, 

Firstly, I am incredibly sorry for your loss. I understand it completely. I still think of my father daily, and I know the feeling all too well. 

About your suggestion, reserving seats for the departed is a very touching idea, however, we considered it and decided to go in a different direction. We appreciate the sentiment, but we fear that it would create a solemn atmosphere and not a joyous one. 

This doesn’t diminish the importance of remembering the deceased, but we both agree that we can truly honor the deceased in our hearts.

Andrea

My hands trembled as I dropped off the letter. Days later, she called. 

“Hello?” She asked. Her voice didn’t have that softness to it. It was replaced with something vaguely unhinged. 

“Hi, Aileen?” 

“Hello, Andrea. I wanted to let you know I just read your letter. I really think you should reconsider.” Her voice was firm. 

“Adrien and I have discussed this before, and we really think that it’s for the best if we carry on with our current arrangements-” 

“So that’s how much our friendship means to you,” she snapped. “This shows how much you care about me, Adrien, and your own poor father-” 

“Aileen, do not tell me what I do and don’t care about.” 

Aileen sneered. “Figures. You’re just worried about yourself. Did you even really talk to Adrien about it? I know he would agree with it, but you’re just being selfish.” 

Forget that the entire reason I reached out to her was to make my husband happy. 

“Aileen,” I began, my voice was like steel. “I’m sorry if I’m coming across as controlling, but you have to realize that a wedding is a happy ceremony, not a gloomy one. I will not tolerate any hostile treatment. If you continue, we will have no choice but to suspend you from the wedding.” 

Silence.

She only replied, “You are a hateful creature, Andrea Reynolds.” then hung up. 

Adrien’s ringtone fired immediately after. Adrien ran up the stairs to respond. 

“Adrien! If it’s your mother, be careful-” I rushed out. “She’s angry that we turned down her idea. She was livid-” 

“What?” Adrien looked appalled. “I’ll deal with her.” He answered the call. “ Relax.” He mouthed.

I turned from Adrien to head downstairs, with waning faith that Adrien could act as a tranquilizer for his mother. 

***

“Andrea!” Adrien called me from upstairs. I set my dishwashing gloves down and went upstairs.

“What happened?” I asked, sitting next to him on the bed. 

Dully, he said, “She says you told her to kill herself.” 

I shot up to my feet. “She said what?” 

“I… Andrea, look, she’s had a history of depression-” Adrien began,

“You believe that I would say something like that!” 

“No, Andrea.” Adrien snapped. “Look, she’s had a really hard-”

I threw my hands up to the sky. 

“I said listen,” Adrien’s teeth were gritted. 

I crossed my arms and fumed silently. 

“When I said she’s dreamed of having a daughter, that was an understatement.” He explained. “She was obsessed with having a daughter. The spare room at my parents’ place is permanently decorated for a baby girl. She would go in religiously and play these lullabies. Nightly. Arthur and I knew there was something wrong, but she’d always wave it off. 

“Sometimes, she’d come out an entirely different person,” he confessed. “She’d… occasionally call us Audrina.” 

“She’s insane,” I muttered, “Absolutely insane.” 

He winced. “We would ask our father about it, but he’d wave it off. As for her accusation, she would do that to Arthur, my father and me. She’d say we all told her to, or threaten us with it. It scared us so badly…” He trailed off, and any anger towards him had dissipated. “We thought she had stopped,” Adrien whispered, sounding defeated. “We thought she was better, but she didn’t…” 

There’s a pause until I finally break the silence. “If we have children, I don’t want her around them.” 

Adrien looked ready to protest. 

“No,” I said firmly. “You said it herself. She needs serious mental help, and I don’t want her to do anything to harm them.” 

“She wouldn’t harm them-” Adrien began. 

I shook my head. “I don’t want to risk it. Until she’s better, please don’t ask me to.” 

He slumps. “Of course.” 

Aileen and I didn’t write for a long time after that. 

Eventually, the day of her arrival came- the day before the wedding. The sky was alive with hazy pink and blue opalescence, only broken up with clouds gilded with caramel sunlight, something I naively took as an optimistic sign. That maybe everything will turn out all right. 

Adrien’s parents’ silver car pulled into the driveway, and they emerged from the car with duffel bags and eager smiles. 

“Hello!” Adrien’s father grinned from ear to ear, with arms outstretched and ready for a hug. I had accepted it, then turned to Aileen. 

She saw my stomach in the early stage of pregnancy and offered a shy smile with arms stretched out. I hesitantly leaned into it and embraced her back, wordlessly. I noticed Adrien beaming at me, sharing the same thoughts as me: it’s an olive branch.

Adrien and his father lounged in the living room, sharing liquor and laughter. I had shied away into the kitchen, watching them from afar. If Aileen were such a great actress, then who knew what kind of person was her husband? I’d keep the rest of the family at arms’ length. 

Adrien flashed in my mind, and there was another pang of guilt. That statement didn’t include him, but what if it should…? 

“Andrea?”

I turned towards the voice, and it’s Aileen, sheepishly standing in a preppy, nautical blue-and-white striped dress. If I hadn’t seen the vicious person that woman could be, I wouldn’t have believed she was the same person in front of me. 

“Aileen,” I said, cautiously. “How can I help you?” 

“Andrea,” Her watery blue eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry for the way things had ended over the phone. I think about it daily.” She wiped off streams of tears. “I didn’t mean to be so cruel.” 

“I… accept your apology.” 

“Our friendship means everything to me now,” she babbled tearfully. “I didn’t realize that my suggestion would cost our friendship.” 

“You were trying to help,” I said finally, eyeing Adrien and his father.

“I was,” she said, dabbing at her cheeks again with papery fingers. “I just really wanted to be part of your wedding and have my daughter there as well.” 

You don’t have a daughter. I thought, cruelly. 

“Hmm.” 

“Could we start over again?” She blinked at me, eyes resembling a doe’s. “Please?” 

“I guess.” I murmured, noncommittally. 

Whether she picked up on my reservations or not, she didn’t show it. She instantly wrapped me in a hug. “Oh, thank you!” she gushesd. “We’ll never fight like this again, will we? We’ll be stronger than ever, I just know it.” Aileen beamed at me. 

“Sure,” I said, emptily. 

“And don’t worry, I won’t say anything about the pregnancy.” 

***

I decided to get some rest so I could be ready for the big day tomorrow. Passing the spare bedroom, I hear Adrien and Aileen’s hushed voices. 

“She didn’t even apologize back!” Aileen hissed, on the verge of tears. “She’s acting like I’m the bad guy here. I don’t see what you see in her, love.”

Lowering her voice, she said, “You know, it’s now too late to call off the wedding.” “Mom!” Adrien snapped. “I’m not calling off the wedding.” 

“Even after all the horrible things she said to me? Are you even listening?” Aileen’s quiet rage echoed through the hallway. “Whatever. I know you don’t even care or want me here. I should just-” she sighed melodramatically again. “I should have just killed myself. I try to be nice and-” 

“Mother.” Adrien’s voice has never been so cold. “Enough.” 

“My baby,” she wailed, ignoring Adrien. “My sweet baby girl. I should have left with you.” I heard Adrien’s footsteps leave the room, and the slow trickle of lullabies spilling into the hallway. 

I slipped into bed, pulling the covers over my head, and willed myself to have a dreamless sleep. 

The next day, I kept an eye on Aileen. She smiled, but it was like a caricature of herself. Her makeup was just… off. Her lipstick was just a shade too bright, too cool-toned for her complexion, which was a surprise. Aileen has emphasized the importance of “adhering to one’s seasonal palette” in the past numerous times. Her mascara was clumpy and thick, her foundation slathered on carelessly. I didn’t dare ask her to redo it.

“Are you ready?” Aileen asked me, just a bit before the ceremony. I note the smear of hot-pink lipstick on her teeth. 

I gave her a smile. “I am.”

“That’s just great.” She clapped. “I’m so happy for you, Audrina. Your father would be so happy to see you today.”

I swallowed the urge to correct her. “I appreciate that. Thank you for being here.” 

“Anytime.” Aileen smiled. For a minute, I wish I were gullible enough to believe it. 

Butterflies jarred my ribcage as I heard the music swell in the air, cueing me to walk down the aisle. Bouquet in hand, arm in arm with my eldest brother, Michael, I was ready to walk. The whole time, I thought of her. When I looked into the future, all I could see was navigating and accommodating his mother. 

Was that how it was always going to be? 

“You ready?” Michael asked, interrupting my thoughts. 

I trembled inside. But walked anyway. 

No one’s attention was on Michael, Adrien, or myself, much to my confusion. My eyes darted from Adrien’s face to the front seat. My heart plummeted. 

“This seat is reserved.” Aileen swung the picture frame in her hand towards one of the guests- at my mother.

“Aileen, get a hold of yourself.” my mother snapped, ducking. “You are acting like a child.” 

“You get a hold of yourself, Selena.” Aileen sneered. “Selfish, the whole lot of you!” 

Her husband grabbed at her. “Aileen, give me the photo!”  

Glass shattered and before I realize it, my mother’s face was bloodied and cut. Michael and I immediately rushed over to Mom. 

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?” Adrien flared.

“SHE’S IN AUDRINA’S SEAT!” Aileen screamed. She whipped her body towards me. “TELL THEM! TELL THEM, AUDRINA!” 

Guests’ eyes turned to me, but I was frozen. 

“You’re not ready to be a wife!” Aileen accused, stabbing a finger towards me. “You said it yourself, didn’t you, Audrina? You wouldn’t be a good mother. You would never be anything like me, would you, Audrina?” 

She wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about the pregnancy.

“ADMIT IT!” She screeched. “YOU DON’T DESERVE YOUR BABY GIRL! ADMIT IT! ADMIT IT, AUDRINA!” 

A year later

It was raining the night Andrea and Adrien came back from the hospital with their new baby girl. They named her Tatum. 

The passengers of the cab jumped from the wall of water crashing back down on them from the hydroplaning. 

“Sorry ‘bout that. The weather out here’s crazy.” The cab driver turned down the radio and leaned forward in his seat. Although he tried to ease their anxiety, Andrea noted how white his knuckles have turned, clenched on the wheel. 

Adrien laughed and Andrea smiles politely.

They continued in the torrential rain, until a blinding light sears the eyes of the cab driver, and the car veers off onto oncoming traffic. 

The brakes locked before Andrea’s screams are cut off entirely. 

A head-on crash. All passengers dead, except for the child. 

The husband and wife’s funerals are scheduled for the Saturday of the following week. 

As their caskets were being lowered into the ground, the mourners stared into the ground, eyes filled with tears. Except for one of the funeral guests. 

She held the child in her arms. “Mommy?” The child asked, clutching her stuffed doll closer to her chest. “Mommy?” 

The woman smiled down at the child. “Yes, Audrina.” She said, staring into one of the plots. “I’m your mommy.”