walked into the house and closed the door behind her. “I was getting ready to go to the theater with some friends from the community center but clearly you need me here.”
“I had no idea! I wish you hadn’t...”
Gloria waved in front of her face.
“Nonsense. I know a breakdown when I hear one. Tell me what’s going on, at once.”
In one sweeping motion, Gloria draped her coat over a dining room chair and took Aubrey from me. It was such a glorious relief to have my arms free. It was then I noticed that she was holding a bottle of red wine. My heart soared.
Gloria stared at me. “Well? Are you going to get us a couple of glasses?”
Ten minutes later we were sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by takeout boxes. Gloria placed a chunk of white rice in Aubrey’s waiting mouth. I took a sip of my wine.
She cleared her throat. “So, if I understand correctly, you’re exhausted, tired of being alone with Aubrey all of the time, you miss David, wish he’d help you more and want to lose twenty pounds but are unwilling to exercise.”
I stared at the ceiling trying to remember if I’d missed anything.
“That’s about it, yes.” I nodded furiously, taking another long sip. “It’s just that, I thought motherhood would be more fulfilling. I’m here with Aubrey every day, watching her scoot around on the floor or holding her all over the house—and there’s nowhere I’d rather be—but I’m bored. I have no one to talk to. David is busy with work. I’m just...”
“You’re just a mom,” cut in Gloria. “You feel useless and essential at the same time. You feel like everyone is doing a better job than you and that nobody understands what you’re going through.”
I stared at Gloria with my mouth agape.
“Yes,” I said quietly.
Gloria reached her chopsticks into the Kung Pao chicken and popped a bite into her mouth.
“Dear. We all felt like that.” She sipped her wine. “David was the first baby I’d ever held. I remember being so surprised when the nurse let us take him home after I had him. I was terrified. Back then, dads made the money and moms did all of the child raising, so I was completely on my own. Then, when David Senior passed away when the kids were just ten and eight...well...I was really on my own.”
I looked into my wine. I tried to imagine what that must have been like, raising two children on your own while navigating your own personal tragedy and theirs.
Gloria coughed. “But do you know how I got through it?”
I took a sip of wine. “You pulled yourself up by your bootstraps?”
Gloria scoffed. “No. Vodka. One shot every day at 5 p.m. on the dot.”
We dissolved into laughter. I couldn’t believe I was actually bonding with my mother-in-law, who only an hour earlier I thought didn’t much care for me.
Gloria picked up a stringy piece of chicken with her fingers and placed it in Aubrey’s waiting mouth. “Ashley, there’s no way around it. Motherhood is hard. And you young moms put more pressure on yourselves than we ever did, with your crafts and your activities. Do you know what we called crafts when David was young? Chores. We didn’t play with our kids, we sent them outside. All day. They’d only come back in when the streetlights came on. You moms have it different. You’re expected to be on 24/7 and look good doing it. My advice is this. Stop being so hard on yourself. And drink more vodka.”
I giggled again, this time with a mouthful of noodles.
Gloria and I watched as Aubrey gummed the chicken.
“When are you going to get some teeth, baby girl?” Gloria teased.
I shrugged.
Aubrey began to fuss and I realized it was almost her bath time.
I stood up. “I should get her ready for bed. Feel free to keep eating. I’ll bring her out after her bath.”
Gloria stood and held Aubrey close. “Absolutely not. This is your time. Put your feet up and eat your dinner. I’ll put her down to bed tonight.”
I was speechless. I blinked back the wetness that was rapidly rising behind my eyes.
“Thank you, Gloria. For everything. Thank you for coming tonight.”
Gloria smiled and squeezed my shoulder. “You’re welcome. I know I’m not your mom, and I know you wish she lived closer, but I’m here for you. Remember what I said. Stop putting so much pressure on yourself, and don’t forget...”
“The vodka,” we said together.
Gloria kept her word and didn’t leave until Aubrey was breathing heavily, her chest rising steadily. We stood together, mother-in-law and daughter-in-law in the darkened doorway, and just watched her, splayed out in her pink bunny sleeper.
I peeked over at Gloria, and for the first time wondered if I’d gotten her all wrong. She had come through for me.
As we walked down the stairs I felt the need to say something. I needed to cement this moment in history as the turning point in our relationship.
She was putting on her coat when I cleared my throat.
“Gloria, I just wanted to say thank you...thank you for coming tonight. It means a lot.”
“Think nothing of it,” she said, slipping her arm into her enormous fur coat. “I’m actually glad you called. From now on, whenever David is working late, I’ll be right here with you.”
What?
She continued. “Don’t worry, I’ll get David’s schedule directly from him so you don’t even need to call next time. I’ll pop right over.”
I tried to keep my mouth affixed in smile formation. “That’s...great, Gloria. Okay. Thank you.”
What had I gotten myself into?
When Gloria left, I sank onto the couch and opened up my phone, hoping to see a text from David. It was already 8 p.m.
Nothing. I clicked through to Instagram and pulled up Emily Walker’s page.
She’d just posted a photo of herself with the twelve moms in Motherhood Better Bootcamp and their kids. They were standing in the lobby of her New York office, a gaggle of excited mothers, babies in strollers and a few older children. I’ve seen her office plenty of times on her Instagram; it’s baby pink and white, and has silver accents. She calls the lobby “the Pavilion” and has posted loads of photos of her two youngest children, Sage and Willow, eighteen months and three years, crawling around on the Shibori Jasmine wood floors next to celebrities, chefs and athletes. The moms all looked so happy in their pink shirts monogramed with Emily’s EW logo in white calligraphy.
I wasn’t jealous at all. No really, good for them.
Maybe I should make myself a T-shirt for Operation
