Taking Emily's lead, Jessica began hounding Laoise every day after that, driving her out to find work and telling her not to lounge around the house like a parasite.
Although Laoise's fever had broken, she was still physically weak and wanted to rest a bit longer before job hunting. But in Jessica's eyes, her frailty was an act; she was simply being lazy.
"My dear girl, are you the queen of this house or what?" Jessica snapped. "Go find a job. Your brother's mortgage is due soon, and your two older sisters can't cover it alone. You need to get out there and earn something to lighten their load."
Laoise didn't understand and finally questioned her mother. "If we can't afford the payments, why did you insist on buying Fergal such an expensive, high-end apartment?"
Jessica roared back at her. "He's the only son in this family. Shouldn't we give him the best? This is already a compromise; he should have been living right next door to you. Stop talking nonsense. You're going out to find work tomorrow. The Douglas family lives under a proud flag, and we will not hold this country back by feeding an idler."
Laoise was speechless. "Mom, do you even have a heart. My body hasn't even recovered. Fergal isn't some three-year-old child who can't work; he's thirty. He's the same age as me. Why do I have to support him? I haven't even had time to recover from being sick, and I'm already expected to feed him."
Jessica was so incensed that she swung a broom, intending to strike Laoise. She felt her daughter had grown arrogant, daring to talk back to the mother who had suffered a lifetime of ailments just to bring her into the world.
Laoise thought bitterly that she and Fergal had been born only minutes apart. Why was it that every ailment Jessica suffered from childbirth was blamed solely on her?
The next day, the eldest sister, Beatrice Douglas, came to the countryside to take Laoise away. Their father, Harry Douglas, had called and told her to do it.
"Take your sister back to your place," he had said. "Otherwise, she'll be fighting with your mother every day. If she stays here, either she'll drive your mother to an early grave or your mother will beat her to death. Look at this girl. She used to be so obedient and sensible. How did getting a divorce turn her into such a brat who talks back?"
Beatrice took Laoise back to her home in New York. When Beatrice had first bought that house, Laoise and Percy had contributed a significant amount toward the down payment. Because of that, Laoise felt a small spark of confidence about staying there for a while.
Once at Beatrice's, Laoise couldn't help but vent her grievances. "I've always felt that she's my mother, and that life hasn't been easy for her. I empathize with her. I love her. But when is she ever going to empathize with me or show me a little love?"
Beatrice offered a lukewarm, non-committal response. "Fine, fine. Don't take it to heart. You know how Mom is." She paused, appearing hesitant, but decided to break some news to Laoise anyway. "Forget about Mom for a second. Let's talk about you. I thought you and Percy would remarry, but it looks like that's going to be difficult now. Do you know another woman is hanging around him? She's been going to his office every day lately."
Laoise felt a ringing in her ears. The image of Percy standing in the rain, begging her to stay and weeping on the day of their divorce, was still vivid in her mind. The divorce papers were barely dry, and he was already with someone new.
Is this what men are like?
She didn't want to ask Beatrice if the woman's name was Josephine. She simply said, "Well, we're divorced. He can be with whoever he wants."
She casually asked her sister, "Does my divorce affect your or your husband's jobs. Surely Percy wouldn't go so far as to fire his ex-wife's sister and brother-in-law just because he has someone new."
Beatrice began clearing the table. "He wouldn't fire us, but it has definitely affected our work. It's not going to be as easy for your brother-in-law and me to ask for raises as it was before."
At that moment, the brother-in-law chimed in, beginning to berate Laoise. "Listen, little sister, why did you have to go and cause trouble by demanding a divorce. Successful men have flings; it's nothing to be surprised about. It wasn't worth making such a scene. Look at you now. He has someone else, and you can't go back even if you wanted to. You really don't know how good you had it. You had a golden goose like Percy, and you weren't satisfied. One little disagreement and you demand a divorce. Now look—you've handed that golden goose right over to someone else's bed. Besides, your divorce has put your sister and me in a very awkward position. If that girl becomes the new Mrs. Nie, she might whisper in his ear and sweep all the 'remnants' of the ex-wife's faction—meaning us—right out of the company."
Laoise felt his words like a knife to her heart. "Brother-in-law, when I helped you ask Percy for that job, you never thanked me once. Now that I'm divorced, you're lashing out at me like this. Does that seem right to you?"
He spread his hands wide. "Am I not just telling the truth. Why are you acting like I'm blaming you? I'm not trying to be mean, Laoise, but you never used to talk back to anyone. Dad was right; you've certainly developed an attitude."
Laoise tried to defend herself, her voice trembling. "No, you..."
But Beatrice immediately cut her off. "That's enough, Laoise. Don't argue. Just keep your mouth shut. You're living in our house and eating our food; can't your brother-in-law even voice a few complaints? Now go wash your hands and let's eat."
In that moment, Laoise finally felt a flicker of doubt and panic about her decision to divorce.
Was she right to be so resolute? Why had her life fallen into such a state afterward? She was penniless, driven out by her parents, resented by her sister, and openly trampled upon by her brother-in-law. She had helped this entire family so much—giving money, possessions, and effort—but now that she was divorced, all the benefits she had brought them seemed forgotten. All they could see was their own resentment.
After the divorce, she had seemingly plummeted from a high pedestal into the dirt and dust.