Raising an Ingrate

My husband's parents are dead. He says I'm now his sister's mother figure and need to care for her like she's my daughter.

I work myself to the bone to feed her and pay for her expenses, but she's not happy with that. "My classmates drive to school and have trips abroad, Lorey. Can't you work a little harder?"

She takes my car away and treats me like a maid. That's still not enough for her, though.

When she finds out that I'm pregnant, she threatens to take her life. "You said you would care for me like I'm your daughter. I won't let you give someone else what's supposed to be mine!"

I curse her in my heart. Who gave her the nerve to act like this?

After working non-stop on a nearly 24/7 work schedule and traveling for 14 consecutive days, I dragged my exhausted body home. I was determined to surprise my husband, Howard Carter.

I pictured myself soaking in a warm bath, sipping tea, watching a good show, and cuddling with my husband in my mind.

But instead of me surprising him, I walked into a nightmare. I excitedly opened the door, only to be hit with a strong scent of perfume.

There were scattered socks, bras, and black stockings sprawled across the floor from the entrance all the way to the bedroom door.

I angrily pushed open the bedroom door and saw my sister-in-law, Madeline Carter, dressed in revealing clothes. She was busy playing around with my husband.

Their laughter came to an abrupt halt the moment I entered.

"Lorelai, you're back," Howard said while nudging Madeline slightly.

"Howard, with the way the two of you are acting... anyone would think—" Before I could finish my sentence, Madeline grabbed my blanket and slipped into the bed.

"Lorey, why didn't you let us know you were coming back?" she asked casually.

A surge of frustration welled up in my chest. "Why do I need to inform anyone when I'm returning to my own home?"

Howard noticed my displeasure. "Lorelai, Maddi is still just a kid. Don't take it out on her," he said.

"She's 18 already, Howard," I replied sharply.

Howard pulled me over to the bed. "Actually, since you're back, there's something I wanted to discuss. Maddi says the dorm conditions at her school are terrible and wants to move back home."

Hearing her brother's words, Madeline popped out of the blanket and clung to his arm. "That's right, Lorey. The dorm beds are bunk beds, and they creak so much I can't sleep.

"How can they compare to the solid wood double bed in our spacious home?"

I almost had a heart attack.

Madeline had become increasingly spoiled recently. For someone who grew up as an orphan after losing both parents, her behavior now resembled that of a pampered heiress.

When I first met Madeline five years ago, she was a timid girl who didn't even dare to look people in the eye.

Raised in a rural village, she was 13 but looked like skin and bones. Not to mention, she was unkempt and completely filthy.

I felt genuine compassion for Howard and Madeline when I learned that they had lost their parents and could only rely on each other.

Howard told me that as Madeline's older sister-in-law, I would be like a mother to her after we got married.

Moved by this idea, I promised myself I would do everything I could to bring them happiness. So, I became both a breadwinner and a housekeeper over the past five years.

I taught Madeline how to use sanitary pads, encouraged her to bathe daily, bought her new clothes.

I even pitied her for the calluses on her hands from farm work and chores. That was why I made sure she didn't have to lift a finger at home.

On top of that, I went against my parents' objections and transferred her from a rural boarding school to a city day school to give her a better education. Gradually, Madeline started to resemble a city girl under my care.

She no longer timidly observed her surroundings but instead carried an innate sense of entitlement. Of course, she also stopped treating me with the courtesy she once had.

She began criticizing the clothes I bought for her and would throw tantrums if they weren't designer brands.

She demanded to eat at high-end buffets costing over 500 bucks per person when we went out and insisted on taking taxis to and from school. Everything had to meet her ever-growing high standards.

I could tolerate all of this, thinking she was just making up for the hardships of her childhood—until she asked me to hand wash her underwear.

Good heavens! Who did she think she was? I had never even washed my own mother's underwear in my life.

I confirmed it with her three times. "You're asking me to handwash your underwear?"

"Yes, Lorey. Handwashing makes them cleaner and more comfortable to wear," she replied matter-of-factly.

I tried reasoning with her. "Maddi, you're old enough to handle these things yourself."

But she looked at me with a sweet, innocent expression and said, "Lorey, I've always seen you as my mom. Isn't it natural for a mom to do these things?"