I never told my husband’s family that I was the daughter of the Chief Justice of the United States. When I was seven months pregnant, they made me prepare Christmas dinner for twelve people by myself. My mother-in-law ordered me to eat standing in the kitchen because, according to her, “women like you should remember their place.” When I finally tried to sit down, she shoved the chair away from me. I fell against the granite counter. As pain tore through my stomach, my husband took my phone and said, “I’m a lawyer, Nadine. You have no family, no witnesses, and no chance of winning.” I looked him directly in the eyes. “Then call my father.” Wesley laughed while dialing the number I gave him. He laughed as he dialed, unaware that his legal career was about to end.”
That Christmas morning, I had been awake since 5:00. The house was still dark when I carried the turkey from the refrigerator and placed it beside the sink. It weighed almost twenty pounds. Wesley’s mother, Corinne, had chosen it because she wanted the dinner to “look impressive” for Wesley’s new partners.
I had been on my feet for nearly six hours by the time the first guests arrived.