"That's an absurd accusation," my mother said, though her voice had lost some of its earlier confidence. "Rosa's family needed her for a personal matter. I was simply being accommodating."
"I'd like to speak with Rosa directly," I said. "Today. I want to understand exactly what she's observed over the past several months, not just these past three weeks."
My mother's expression tightened further. "David, I don't understand why you're treating me like some kind of criminal over a simple misunderstanding about family customs. I have only ever wanted what's best for this family, for the baby you and Claire are bringing into it."
"What's best for this family," I said, my voice carrying a hardness I had genuinely never directed at my mother in thirty-four years, "does not include humiliating my pregnant wife on a marble floor while I'm out of the country. I need you to understand something clearly, right now. Whatever this was — tradition, teaching, discipline, whatever word you want to use for it — it ends immediately. Today."