Bien had a very generous laugh, it was his laughter that made the space around him bustling that caught my attention, and from there a love story began.
When we first fell in love, I made a pact with him: “When we get married, you and I will live in a collective house. When we have money, whether it’s a little bit, we can buy a small piece of land or a lot, we can buy a big piece of land. Then we can build a big or small house to live in, okay?” He shook his head and teased me: “That’s not possible. Mom also made a pact with me that my wife must come to live in her house, to be a daughter-in-law for her. In the morning, she must make tea, at noon she must pluck itchy hair, and at night she must massage her back to help her sleep.” I frowned and teased him back: “Then I won’t marry you.” He laughed heartily: “You’re twenty-eight years old. If you don’t marry me, will you stay single for the rest of your life?”
I knew he was joking. Because his house was far from where we worked, far away in the middle of green roads with hibiscus trees, with rows of tall, beautiful areca trees planted on the small path leading to the house paved with red bricks. When we had been in love for a long time, I would come to his house to play, he would take a hammock and hang it between two trees, and together we would enjoy the fresh air of nature. His mother always reserved a private space for us. At that time, she would cook a pot of boiled corn or potatoes for "her future daughter-in-law". When I cooked with my mother, she would tell me stories about him when he was young. Connecting my mother's stories one by one, I could imagine his whole life from childhood to adulthood in the love my parents had for him. My mother said: "My son Bien is very honest. It is lucky for him to meet you". Bien happily replied: "A genius like you has a lover who is both beautiful and virtuous, Mom".
His parents only had two children. Lien was the eldest daughter and married a man who lived near her parents' house. Hinh, her husband, worked hard all day with the fields and garden. They lived with Hinh's parents, in a vast orchard and fish pond that had been passed down through many generations. His mother told me: "After you get married, if you like, you can come back here to live. The countryside scenery makes your soul feel very relaxed. Our house is also spacious, with people coming and going, and the trees and grass are also happy." His father nodded: "These days, there is no such thing as a daughter-in-law. You and Bien loving each other is enough. If you two get married, if you like, you can live here. If you don't like living in the countryside, you can stay home and play with your parents for a few days. After that, you can come back every week to have dinner for fun."
Actually, I was moved and almost decided to live with his parents after the wedding. But after thinking about it, he and I need to have a truly private life. Bien is gentle but he is very careless in taking care of himself. I love him, I want to cook for him the delicious dishes he likes. I want the space around us after the wedding to be private for the two of us. On days off, I can bury myself in a soft blanket with him until the sun is high in the sky. If I were to become a daughter-in-law, sometimes on tiring days, I would not be able to leave my husband with dirty dishes in the house until tomorrow morning.
And so after the wedding, he and I moved to his office's dormitory and learned to take care of each other.
Bien is a lecturer. Every summer, he often takes students on field trips, some of which last for half a month. Before we got married, I saw his trips as an opportunity to give each other some private space. But after we got married, he went on a business trip for 2 days, and I felt so empty that I couldn’t stand it. I texted him: “I’ll eat at my mother’s house.” He said: “The road is long, can you go?” I smiled: “I’m going to be a daughter-in-law.”
His mother was happy when I came home. She said: “You look so thin. Stay home and I will nourish you so that you have more skin and flesh.” Then I went to the market and cooked with my mother. Both of his parents praised my cooking, and I learned from my mother the dishes he used to like. In the kitchen, my mother showed me little by little: “Bien really likes dried goby fish. You can cook it like this. There are many wild vegetables in our garden, let me show you how to distinguish the types of vegetables, pick them up and cook them with dried shrimp, which is a dish that Bien really likes.”
In the morning, I woke up early, went to the kitchen to light a fire to make tea for my father. I helped my mother sweep the fallen leaves in the garden, and spread rice for the chicks that had just grown up in the yard. Strangely enough, the space I was living in seemed to have a bit of mist and smoke when I and my mother gathered the dry leaves in the afternoon garden and lit the fire. Looking at his mother, her white hair sitting and dropping each leaf into the cheerful fire, I felt sad as if I were a criminal. Because I knew that because they loved him and also because they didn't want me to be sad, his parents agreed to let my husband and I live separately, while they really needed him and me to be by their side so that they wouldn't be lonely in their old age. His mother kept collecting leaves to drop into the roaring fire. Until the fire died down, the afternoon shadow leaned over the treetops, my mother stood up: "You're coming back tomorrow, right? Why did the day pass so quickly?" My mother's voice was as low as the smoke from the dried leaves that had just been burned. That was when I felt heartbroken.
* * *
Bien was surprised when I refused to go to the island with him on Sunday. I said, "I'm going to visit my parents." He was surprised by my suggestion.
With more human voices, the house seemed to have more life. My father and brother kept talking about current events. My mother went to the garden to pick vegetables so I could cook dried shrimp garden vegetables for my brother, and I also cooked fish stewed with glue for my brother. After dinner, my brother and I prepared to return to our house. My mother called me to go to the garden with her. She took me to a corner of the garden. She had just planted a laurel tree there. My mother said to me: “The other day you said you liked the scent of laurel, so I asked your father to find some seeds to plant.” I was just chatting with my mother for fun, but my mother had quietly planted a laurel tree in the garden. My mother used a coconut shell to scoop water from the jar next to her and watered the laurel tree: “The laurel tree blooms on the night of the full moon. So you have to come home once a month to let the laurel tree bloom. Okay, my child!” I held my mother’s hand: “I will come home every week even if the laurel tree doesn’t bloom, okay, Mom?”
Source: https://baocantho.com.vn/cay-nguyet-que-me-trong-a187973.html
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