The Temperature of Love

"This is a notice regarding proper use of the air conditioning. Please sign to acknowledge receipt." My six-year-old son stood there with a stern little frown, slapping a sheet of paper down in front of me. I glanced at the page. Written in colorful marker were several neatly listed "charges." The whole thing felt absurd. When I did not respond, he pointed at the paper like a tiny adult. "Mom, you didn't turn the air down in time yesterday. That could've affected my health. It was very irresponsible." I looked toward my husband, who had just gotten home from work, hoping he would say something, anything, in my defense. Instead, he snatched up the paper and slapped it down on the table, his voice sharp. "Can't you be more attentive? Our son's health comes first. If you can't even handle something this simple, what kind of mother are you?" With someone backing him up, our son's eyes immediately reddened. He burst into tears. "Mom doesn't love me!" The two of them, playing judge and jury, left me suddenly breathless. "Fine," I said at last. "If I'm such an unfit mother, I'll leave. Let your father find you a new one, someone who knows how to set the air conditioning properly." Chapter 1 "Leave? Suzy, is that all you know how to say when you're mad? "Look at you. You spend all day stuck at the stove; no wonder your brain's gone mushy. Do you even know what era we're living in? It's all about scientific parenting now. Precision. Data-driven systems. Do you understand that?" My son Adrian Gibson peeked out from behind Harry Gibson, his little head bobbing hard in agreement. "Dad's right. Larisse said families like ours, with this old-school parenting style, should've been phased out a long time ago." Larisse Baker, again. She was a lecturer at some high-end family education seminar Harry started attending recently. Ever since he paid fifty thousand for her course, our home turned upside down. My meatloaf used to be Adrian's favorite. Then it was labeled "high-fat, high-sugar junk food that harms brain development." Taking Adrian to the park to run around used to be the highlight of his day. Then it was "inefficient exercise that fails to engage core muscle groups and wastes valuable time." Our walls were covered in charts. Adrian's "Daily Nutrient Intake Sheet", "Hourly Activity Schedule", "Emotional Fluctuation Log. Everything had to be measured. Everything had to be precise. Everything had to meet what Larisse called "elite family standards." Me, the woman of this house, somehow became the most flawed part of the system. The one piece that needed fixing. "I don't care about Larisse." "Adrian, I'm your mom. You've had the air conditioning on for too long. I turned it down a little because I didn't want you catching a cold. Is that wrong?" "Of course it's wrong." Adrian shot back immediately. "Larisse said a constant temperature environment ensures optimal physical condition and learning efficiency. You adjusting it without permission disrupts data stability. That's irresponsible for my development. "You just don't understand science." I looked at Harry without thinking. "Suzy, stop making a scene. Why are you arguing with a six-year-old? He understands more than you do." "Larisse is a professional. She has dual master's degrees in psychology and nutrition from top universities. Her closed-loop family management model has won international awards. "Here's what we'll do. Next Saturday, Larisse is coming over to evaluate our home environment. You should sit in and learn something. Update those outdated ideas of yours. "Don't embarrass me in front of an expert." With that, he took Adrian's hand and turned toward the study. "Come on, Adrian. Let's review today's learning data. Ignore your mom. She's just like one of those narrow-minded women stuck in an alley. All hair, no brains." The study door slammed shut behind them. … I did not sleep all night. The next morning, I did not wake up at five thirty like usual to prepare Harry and Adrian's carefully calculated breakfast. That breakfast, measured down to 0.1 grams of salmon and exactly three blueberries, made me feel sick just looking at it. I slept until my body finally woke on its own. When I walked out of the bedroom, Harry was in the kitchen, frantically searching through cabinets. Adrian sat at the table, lips puffed out, looking wronged and miserable. The moment Harry saw me, his frustration found its target. "Suzy, do you even know what time it is? You finally decided to get up? Where's Adrian's breakfast? Are you doing this on purpose just to go against me?" Chapter 2 I ignored him, went to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of cold milk, and drank straight from it. "Mom, you shouldn't be drinking that." "Larisse said it's not good for you, especially for women. It can mess with your health—" "Enough." I cut him off, setting the bottle down a little too hard on the table. Adrian flinched hard. His eyes turned red instantly. Even Harry froze for a second. Then the anger hit him even harder. "Suzy, what's wrong with you? You scared him." "What's wrong with me?" I let out a laugh, but tears still pushed their way up. "Yeah. I've gone crazy. Driven crazy by you two. And that ridiculous Larisse. "In this house, is there even space left for me to breathe? Everything I do is wrong. Everything I say is ignorant. Even my existence feels like a mistake." "Harry, ask yourself honestly. Does this still feel like a home? My son doesn't act like a child anymore. He's like some experiment you're using to impress that woman." "You're being unreasonable. This is ridiculous." He growled under his breath and grabbed Adrian, who was still standing there in shock. "Come on, Adrian. We're leaving. We're not eating anything this woman made. I'll take you to that organic restaurant Larisse recommended. "There's no point talking to someone this backward." The door slammed shut again. I sank into a chair and stared at the walls covered in charts. My phone buzzed. A message from Harry. [Suzy, I'm warning you. Larisse is coming on Saturday. You'd better behave. If you say anything stupid in front of her and mess things up, you'll regret it.] Another message followed right after. [This is the preparation checklist for Larisse's evaluation. You must complete everything before Friday. Miss even one item, and you're out.] I opened the file. Three full pages of A4 paper. From "indoor air quality must be excellent," to "all ingredients must be organic and fully traceable, with QR codes for verification," to "the female host must maintain a positive, calm emotional state, with no negativity allowed." The last item was bolded in red. [The female host must thoroughly study Chapters 1, 2, and 3 of Closed-Loop Family Management and prepare a reflection of no less than 3,000 words for Larisse's questions.] I stared at the list of absurd demands. You're out? Fine. You said it. … I did not write a single word of that reflection. I did not buy any of those overpriced organic ingredients either. On Friday night, I made a full table of simple, homemade dishes. Meatloaf. Barbecue pork ribs. Grilled lamb chops. All the things Harry and Adrian used to love. All labeled as junk food by Larisse. When Harry came home with Adrian and saw the table full of "forbidden" dishes, his face turned green. "Suzy, what's this supposed to mean?" Adrian pinched his nose, his face twisting in disgust. "It's so greasy. Mom, this isn't healthy. You shouldn't be eating this." I did not look at him. I just served myself and took a bite of the meatloaf. It tasted amazing. "If you don't want to eat, then don't. "There's that nutrition shake Larisse recommended in the fridge. Go drink that." Harry pointed at me, speechless for a long moment. "You, you've got some nerve." He grabbed Adrian and started to leave. "Wait." I set down my fork and stopped him. Then I took out the divorce papers I prepared earlier and slapped them onto the table. "Harry, let's get a divorce." "Divorce? Suzy, have you lost your mind? "Open your eyes and take a good look. The house is in my name. The car is in my name. You've been out of work and out of society for six years. What makes you think you can divorce me? "You can't even support yourself. And you want custody of Adrian? Do you think any court would give the child to someone like you?" "Who said I want custody? "Adrian is so outstanding. So scientific. So elite. How could a backward, ignorant mother like me possibly deserve him? "Hasn't he always wanted a different mom? Fine. I'll give him what he wants." Adrian looked at me, then at his dad. His lips trembled, like he was about to cry. Chapter 3 I did not give him a chance to cry. I picked up a pen and signed my name at the bottom of the agreement. "Harry. Tomorrow's Saturday. Nine a.m., at the entrance to the County Clerk's Office. "If you don't show up, this agreement, along with everything I've found on Larisse, will land in your chairman's inbox." I meant every word. This past month, I was not just sitting around doing nothing. I looked into Larisse. I looked into Harry's company, too. The only reason Harry managed to climb into a department manager position was that his chairman was obsessed with so-called "experts" and gurus. Larisse was introduced to Harry by that very chairman. To impress his boss, Harry turned our home into Larisse's testing ground. "Suzy, are you threatening me? "You think you've got something on me? Let me tell you, Larisse is a specially appointed consultant for our company. You're challenging the authority of the entire company." "You've seriously lost it. All this because we asked you to learn some advanced parenting concepts? Really?" He took a deep breath. "Suzy, what happened to you? When did you become this extreme? This unreasonable? "Look at Larisse. Educated. Elegant. Big-picture thinking. And you? You're acting like some hysterical woman from the countryside. "Adrian. Come here." He turned to our son and ordered, "Tell your mom. Do you want her to leave or not?" Adrian flinched at his tone. He looked at his father, then at me, and suddenly burst into tears. "I don't want Mom to go, but if she doesn't learn and improve, she'll hold me back." He cried as he spoke, repeating words he clearly learned from his father. "Dad said Mom is a negative asset in my original family." I stood up. Ignoring Harry's fury and my son's sobs, I walked straight into the bedroom. "Suzy, stop right there." Harry followed me in and blocked the doorway. "What are you packing? Name one thing in this house you paid for. Everything you eat, wear, and use comes from my money. "If you're leaving, then leave with nothing. Even the clothes you're wearing, I bought them. Take them off." Even Adrian followed us in, tilting his little face up. "Yeah, Mom. Take off the clothes before you go." My vision went dark for a second. I grabbed the doorframe to steady myself. Seeing me frozen there, pale and silent, Harry thought he had me cornered. He cleared his throat. "Alright, enough of this. Stop making a scene. Tomorrow, when Larisse comes, apologize properly. Turn in your reflection, and we'll forget all of this. "You'll still be Adrian's mom. Still the lady of the house." … I turned around and pulled open the bottom drawer of the closet. Inside was a faded cotton dress. My mom bought it for me before I got married. She said, "Suzy, if anyone ever treats you badly, come home. I'll cook for you." Back then, I promised her with complete confidence, Mom, Harry treats me well. I'll never be wronged. Thinking about it then, it felt like the biggest joke in the world. Right in front of Harry, I took off the silk nightgown he bought me and changed into that old dress. It was a little tight then. The style was long out of date. However, the moment I put it on, I felt something I did not feel in a long time. Solid. Safe. Harry opened his mouth, ready to mock me, but when he saw the dress, his expression changed instantly. Maybe he remembered the day he came to my house to propose, when my mom held his hands and told him again and again to take good care of me. Maybe, for once, he felt a little guilty. "Suzy, what are you doing? Who are you trying to put on a show for?" I walked up to him, grabbed the divorce papers, and slapped them hard against his face. "This dress was bought by my mom. Not with your money. I can take it with me, right? "Harry. Nine a.m. tomorrow. County Clerk's Office. Show up if you want." After that, I did not look at him again. I pulled the door open and walked out without turning back. Behind me, I could hear Harry shouting, and Adrian crying. "Mom, don't leave me, Mom." I did not turn around. I just kept walking.