My mom, always graceful, replied calmly. “I’m here for my daughter. She needs me.”
“You? Here? She’s having a baby, not a tea party. What do you know about proper medical care?”
Regina smirked, her eyes cold and calculating. Then she turned to the nurse who had just entered to check my vitals.
“Excuse me,” she said in that honeyed voice she uses when she’s about to be terrible. “This woman needs to go. She’s not immediate family, and she’s not paying for this.”
The nurse looked confused. “Ma’am, the patient can choose who —”
“We’re covering all the medical expenses,” Regina interrupted. “And as the grandmother of this baby, I’m requesting that only direct family be present.”
“Grandmothers are usually asked to wait outside during the actual delivery,” the nurse said carefully.
“I’m not just any grandmother,” Regina said, pulling out her black platinum card like it was some kind of magical talisman. “Perhaps we should speak to the hospital administrator about our… generous donation to the maternity ward last year.”
I tried to protest, but another contraction hit me like a freight train, and all I could do was scream through it.
By the time it passed, the nurse was awkwardly explaining to my mom that perhaps it would be best if she stepped out for a while, “just until things calm down.”
Regina sat down smugly in the chair my mother had just vacated. “There, isn’t that better? Just family now.”
She was so busy feeling victorious that she didn’t notice the sound of karma behind her. It was a deep, angry throat clearing.
She turned and gasped. Her husband, Robert, stood near the doorway with Ethan and my mom.
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