But before he could get a word out, I picked up a half-full bowl of hot soup from the wreckage on the floor and threw it straight in his face without blinking.
"Consider that a reminder. Bring trash into this house, and nobody's going to coddle you."
The greasy broth slid down James's fair skin, dripping one drop at a time onto his expensive tailored suit.
Even Meryl, who had been baring her teeth just moments ago, stood frozen with her hand clamped over her mouth, barely daring to breathe.
James forced down the rage boiling inside him and wiped the grease from his face, bit by bit.
Then he turned to me with an ingratiating smile.
But I was the only one who knew that beneath that smile, he was ice-cold to the bone.
"Mom, I can't help it if you don't like Meryl. But she's already my wife. We got our marriage license this morning. If hitting me and yelling at me makes you feel better, then your son will take it."
"The baby in Meryl's belly is your grandchild. Once the baby's born, I don't believe for a second you won't adore it."
"When that day comes, you'll be the one bending over backward to make nice with Meryl, apologizing to her. So why make things this ugly now?"