“Call 911,” I said.
My husband, Mark, stood in the doorway with his phone in his hand, frozen.
His mother, Vivian, gave him that look she had perfected over forty years of controlling every room. “Mark. Your wife is exhausted. She wants attention because tomorrow is our wedding trip.”
“Our?” I stared at her.
Vivian smiled. “My vow renewal. Hawaii. You remember, don’t you? The one you promised to help pay for?”
“I promised nothing.”
Mark rubbed his forehead. “Claire, don’t start.”
Ethan made a sound like paper tearing.