Evelyn: How dare you push me, Mark! I am an elderly woman!
Mark: Get up off my floor and get out of my home before I let the police throw you out in handcuffs!
Evelyn: You are letting this weak, useless girl drive a wedge between us!
Mark: She gave birth to my daughter four days ago! The doctor ordered her to stay in bed for three weeks!
Evelyn: In my day, women were back on their feet working the next morning!
Mark: I don't give a damn about your day, Mother! You forced my sick wife to cook a four-course meal!
Mark walked back to the couch, kneeling beside Claire as she struggled to sit up against the throw pillows.
Claire: Mark... my incision... it stings so badly...
Mark: Don't move, baby. The paramedics are on their way. Just breathe.
Evelyn: Oh, look at her act! A little kitchen work never killed anybody!
Mark: Kitchen work?! Look at the dining table, Evelyn! Look at the kitchen counters!
Mark pointed a shaking finger toward the marble kitchen island, which was covered in heavy roasting pans, chopped vegetables, and dirty pots.
Mark: She spent three hours standing over a hot stove while you sat there eating!
Evelyn: I am the guest of honor! She was supposed to host my bridge club ladies tonight!
Mark: You told me you were coming over to help her take care of the baby while I was at the office!
Evelyn: I am helping her! I'm teaching her discipline!
Mark: You hired a house cleaning team two months ago for your own mansion, but you forced my recovering wife to clean your mess?!
Evelyn: She comes from a middle-class family, Mark! She needs to learn what it takes to manage a Vance family estate!
Claire: Mark... she locked my pain medication... in her purse...
Mark’s head snapped toward his mother, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle twitched beneath his skin.
Mark: What did you say, Claire?
Claire: She took my prescription bottle off the nightstand... She said I didn't deserve it if I didn't finish roasting the lamb...
Mark: You took her post-surgery pain medication?!
Evelyn: She was popping those pills like candy! I was doing her a favor!
Mark: She takes one pill every eight hours as prescribed by her surgeon!
Evelyn: She was using it as an excuse to nap all day while my granddaughter cried!
Claire: That's a lie... I fed the baby every two hours... I haven't slept in three days...
The distant sound of emergency sirens echoed from down the street, growing louder as they approached the residence.
Mark: Where is her medication, Evelyn? Give it to me right now.
Evelyn: I don't have to give you anything! This is my family's reputation on the line!
Mark: Give me her prescription bottle, or I swear to God I will tell the officers pulling into my driveway that you stole controlled substances!
Evelyn snorted in frustration, reaching into her designer leather handbag and tossing the orange plastic bottle onto the coffee table.
Evelyn: Take your stupid pills! See if I ever lift a finger to help this household again!
Mark: You never lifted a finger to help, Evelyn. You came here to torture her.
The front door opened, and two paramedics rushed into the foyer carrying trauma bags and a folded stretcher.
Paramedic Mike: We got a call for a post-surgical medical emergency! Where is the patient?
Mark: Over here on the couch! My wife collapsed after being forced onto her feet for hours!
Paramedic Mike: Ma'am, stay still. We're going to check your vitals right now.
Evelyn smoothed down her dark blazer, stepping toward the front door with her head held high.
Evelyn: Well, since you have medical professionals here to pamper her, I will take my leave.
Mark: You aren't going anywhere, Mother. The police cruiser is right behind that ambulance.