Chapter 7
When I got home that evening, I saw a report card on the table, indicating that a parent’s signature was required. Greta’s name was highlighted in red, showing how many places her ranking had dropped.
If it were in the past, I would have broken down in tears. Whenever Greta’s grades slipped, I would be so anxious that I couldn’t fall asleep. I would even spend hours trying to figure out what went wrong and how to help her improve.
Such grades would have sent me into a rage. When everyone was waiting for my reaction, I ignored the report card and sat down at the dining table.
Seeing my calmness, they thought the report card hadn’t pushed me far enough and decided to indulge Greta even more.
Frank bought Greta a new gaming console. Rose used her retirement savings to buy her in–game skins, and even Phillip signed his name on the report card. He said, “Greta, don’t worry. It’s just a mid–term exam. It doesn’t mean anything. I’ll sign it for you.”
Hearing this, Greta finally smiled, “Yeah, it’s a mid–term score. The final exam is more important. My mom used to get so worked up about grades.”
She even came up to me, saying provocatively, “I didn’t do well because I had a cold and wasn’t feeling well. Don’t think I did badly because I didn’t have your help. I’m a genius. My grades won’t drop even if I play games more often.”
I nodded approvingly. “I believe in you. Keep it up.” Then I continued eating.
However, Phillip, Frank, and Rose were getting anxious.
Over the weekend, I spent both days watching TV on the couch while Greta played games in her bedroom. Times passed quickly, but she
hadn’t written a single word of her homework.
On Monday morning, Rose woke up to make breakfast, and I heard her scream from my bed. “My god! Greta, you stayed up all night playing games! Is it really that fun?”
Greta had pulled an all–nighter, and Rose didn’t realize she hadn’t slept until she pushed the door open to wake her up.
After playing games for so long, Greta was dizzy. She wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. It was already six o’clock, almost time to catch the school bus for morning classes. No matter how much Frank and Rose tried to coax her, she didn’t get up.
Phillip lost his patience and simply dragged Greta out of bed. “Get up and go to school!”
To everyone’s surprise, Greta wasn’t scared of Phillip. Instead, she threw a tantrum like a spoiled child. “I’m so tired. Just ask the teacher for a day off and say I’m not feeling well.”
Whenever Greta didn’t want to go to school before, I would drag her there, and occasionally Phillip, feeling sorry for her, would call the teacher to lie about her being sick and then take her to an amusement park.
This morning, Phillip’s past actions were coming back to haunt him. He stood there in a daze, processing the situation.
Meanwhile Lacted as if nothing was wrong. I heated milk and a sandwich in the microwave, took my bag, and went to work.
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Meanwhile, I acted as if nothing was wrong. I heated milk and a sandwich in the microwave, took my bag, and went to work.
Phillip, Frank, and Rose stared at me, but they didn’t wish me to discipline Greta. Instead, their eyes were filled with resentment. It seemed that I was the root cause of this situation.
There was a saying, “Like father, like son; like mother, like daughter.” Back then, I had kept Greta under strict control to prevent her from acting out like this.
Seeing that I truly wasn’t going to intervene, Phillip lost his temper. “If you dare step out of this house today, I’ll divorce you! The house is my pre–marriage property, and I’ll fight for custody of Greta. After the divorce, you’ll never see her again.”
He threatened, thinking he had gotten my soft spot, but I wouldn’t fight for custody of such an ungrateful child. I laughed, “Alright, then take a day off, and let’s go to the courthouse.”
Phillip thought I was just blowing off steam. “I’m serious, Blanca.”
“Me too,” I snorted.
Just then, Greta, who had been throwing a fit on the floor, ran into the bedroom and threw my clothes out, yelling excitedly, “Dad, just divorce her now! She’s my mom, but she’s just bluffing to make you submit. Don’t indulge her!
“She has a job and thinks she can go against you. That little salary isn’t even enough for me to play games. She couldn’t stand the hardships of working after staying at home for years. I swear she’ll come crawling back to us begging for forgiveness!”
