Happy Soul Moral Stories

Three Weeks Before I Marry the Woman I Loved, I Came Home Early With Flowers and Saw Her Pour Red Wine Onto a Floor Our Housekeeper Had Just Cleaned—She Looked at Her and Said, “Clean It Again, and Don’t Leave a Mark.” Ten Days Later, Our Housekeeper Removed Her Apron and Told Me, “If You Still Have to Decide Which One of Us Is Lying, Then I Already Have My Answer”—That Night, My 79-Year-Old Grandmother Asked Me One Question That Made Me Wonder How Much Had Been Happening in My Own House about My Fiancée Without Me Knowing

Part 2 of 3

For a while.

Lauren’s Other Voice

After the wine incident, I started paying attention to things I’d previously ignored.

Lauren had two voices.

There was the voice she used when my father visited.

“Hannah, sweetheart, sit down for five minutes. You’ve been running around all day.”

There was the voice she used when Grandma’s friends came for lunch.

“Honestly, Hannah has been a lifesaver.”

Then there was the voice she used when nobody important was around.

Short.

Flat.

Impatient.

One Saturday morning, I was working upstairs when I heard Lauren speaking from the foyer.

“Put those wedding boxes in the guest room.”

Hannah answered:

“All of them?”

“Yes. I’ll sort them later.”

Two hours later, I came downstairs.

Lauren was standing in the guest room doorway.

“Why are these here?”

Hannah looked up.

“You asked me to put them here.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You said the guest room.”

Lauren laughed.

It wasn’t an angry laugh.

That almost made it worse.

“Hannah, I said garage.”

“No. You said you’d sort them here later.”

Lauren turned toward me.

“Michael, can you please explain to her that arguing isn’t helping?”

I had heard the conversation.

I knew exactly what Lauren had said.

But for one second, I hesitated.

Hannah saw it.

Her face changed.

Then I said:

“You told her guest room.”

Lauren looked at me.

“You heard me?”

“Yes.”

Silence.

Then she shrugged.

“Fine. I must have misspoken.”

She walked away.

That evening, she barely spoke to me.

Two days later, my father called.

“Is everything okay with Hannah?”

I moved the phone to my other ear.

“What do you mean?”

“Lauren said she’s been having problems.”

I stopped walking.

“What problems?”

“Forgetting instructions. Getting defensive when corrected.”

“Have you seen that?”

Dad hesitated.

“No.”

“Then why are you asking?”

“Because your wedding is three weeks away.”

He sighed.

“Lauren thinks you might want to replace her before something important gets messed up.”

After we hung up, I stood in my office staring at the phone.

Lauren wasn’t just contradicting Hannah.

She was preparing other people to distrust her.

That distinction bothered me enough that I finally did something.

The next morning, I asked Hannah to sit down.

“From now on, Grandma is your main responsibility.”

She frowned.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

“Because you’re good with her.”

I hired another woman to handle most of the cleaning and household work.

Lauren noticed within a day.

“So Hannah doesn’t clean anymore?”

“Not much.”

“Why?”

“She’s focusing on Grandma.”

Lauren folded her arms.

“She gets a raise and now she gets fewer responsibilities?”

“Different responsibilities.”

“This is about the wine.”

I looked at her.

“Why would you say that?”

For the first time, Lauren seemed caught off guard.

“Because you’ve been acting strange since then.”

“Have I?”

She stared at me.

Then she walked away.

Ten Days Before the Wedding

The argument that finally broke something between all three of us started over a seating chart.

Lauren had changed the reception seating four times.

Her aunt Patricia had gone from table six to table nine.

Then, the previous afternoon, Lauren told Hannah to move her to table twelve because she didn’t want Patricia sitting near one of her cousins.

I was in the dining room when she said it.

The next afternoon, Lauren picked up the new chart.

“Why is Aunt Patricia at table twelve?”

Hannah stopped arranging place cards.

“You asked me to move her.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Hannah stared at her.

“Yesterday afternoon.”

“I never said that.”

“Lauren, you did.”

Lauren placed the chart on the table.

“Stop telling me what I said.”

Hannah’s voice stayed level.

“I’m telling you what you asked me to do.”

Lauren turned toward me.

“Michael.”

I didn’t respond.

“Please tell her I’m not crazy.”

There were ten days until the wedding.

One hundred eighty-three guests had confirmed.

My cousins had flights booked.

Lauren’s parents were flying in from Boston.

My father had bought his suit.

The hotel had received the final payment.

I looked at Hannah.

Then Lauren.

And I made the decision that was easiest for me.

“Hannah, maybe you should take some time off.”

Hannah blinked.

“What?”

“Until after the wedding.”

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