Chapter 20 Parental Controls
~Jessica~
I heard the ding from my phone just as Brad was complaining about the restaurant's wine selection. I glanced at my phone, expecting another client email I could ignore until tomorrow—the housing market never slept, but Monday would be soon enough.
Parental Control Alert: Computer access detected outside permitted hours.
My fork paused halfway to my mouth. Computer access?
Well now, Macy was supposed to be in her room.
Grounded. No computer. No phone. No privileges.
A throb pulsed behind my right eye, the kind that made the light above the table buzz louder, harsher.
I pressed two fingers to my temple and forced my smile wider.
"Are you listening to me?" Brad's voice cut through my thoughts.
"Of course," I said, sliding my thumb across the screen to open the monitoring app. "You were saying something about the Pinot."
But I wasn't listening anymore. The alert showed me that Macy had used the computer at 8:47 PM. Logged into Gmail. Stayed on for twelve minutes.
My jaw tightened. I clenched so hard my molars ached. The report blurred for a second, my eyes prickling with the kind of rage that made my hands shake— breathe… I’ll take care of that later.
I lifted my phone up off the table, hand a little shaky—I'll need to take care of that later. I opened the detailed report—my appetite disappearing as I read. Email sent to Caden. Subject line: "Video."
Perfect. Just fucking perfect.
"Jessica." Brad's tone was sharper now. "What's so important on your phone that you can't focus on our dinner?"
I looked up, forcing a smile. "Sorry. Work email from a client. You know how closings can be."
"On a Sunday night? Must be urgent."
"Just some last-minute paperwork questions. Nothing that can't wait until morning." I slipped the phone into my purse, but my mind was racing.
I mentally went through the monitoring report I'd just read—the email Macy thought she'd sent in secret. Apologizing to Daddy. Asking him to tell precious Felicity she "didn't forget."
Isn't that just so touching...My eleven-year-old daughter, going behind my back to grovel to her father's wife.
I'd clearly been too soft. I was too understanding. The gentle approach I'd taken—explaining that Felicity wasn't family, that loyalties had to be clear—it wasn't working. Macy wasn't getting the message.
Seems like it's time for a different strategy—a new approach to my daughter's thoughtlessness.
I pretended to focus on Brad's wine commentary with renewed attention, nodding at all the right pauses and agreeing to whatever he was blabbing on about. His voice was grating on my already growing headache.
Refocusing on planning for my plans with Macy.
If she was reaching out to Caden, if Felicity was somehow making him more attentive to details than he used to be.
.. well, I may need to prepare for the worst. If I've learned one thing over the years, it was that everything was about timing and direction.
Most people never paid close enough attention to the details.
Caden certainly hadn't. Felicity needs to stay in her lane.
Macy thought she was so smart, using the computer after we'd left for dinner since I'd taken her phone. She thought she could play the sweet little girl and sneak behind my back.
She had another thing coming.
As a broker, I knew how to read between the lines, and to bury things between lines others don't read. I can see when someone was trying to game the system and I know how to do it better. How my own daughter thought she could outsmart me—she's going to have to learn.
"You know what?" I said, dabbing my lips with the napkin. "I think we should skip dessert tonight. I want to get home to Macy."
Brad raised an eyebrow. "Jess, she's grounded, right. Isn't she supposed to be in her room? Why do we need to get home early?"
"She is. But I think it's time for a mother-daughter conversation about respect. And consequences."
My husband was clearly not happy with me.
I'll make it up to him later tonight. The drive home gave me time to plan.
Macy was playing little Miss Innocent, probably pretending to be tucked away in bed by now—thinking she'd gotten away with her little rebellion.
Looks like she still had no idea I monitored every keystroke and click she made.
Most parents use monitoring software. How else am I supposed to keep an eye on and ensure she doesn't start to have loyalties to the wrong person—to the wrong woman—in the wrong place?
I let myself in quietly, having noted that Macy's light was off when we drove up. Good. She thought she was being so careful.
I walked up the stairs slowly, deliberately, my heels clicking on the hardwood just loud enough to announce my presence. Standing at her door, I could hear the rustle of movement inside—probably rushing to pretend she is asleep.
I knocked once, then opened the door without waiting for permission.
"Mom?" Macy's voice was perfectly pitched—surprised but sleepy, but I could tell she was faking a wake-up voice.
She was good. I'd give her that.
"Hi, sweetheart." I stepped into the room, leaving the door open behind me. "Did you have a good evening?"
"Yeah. I did some homework and went to bed early."
"That's good. Very responsible." I moved closer to her bed, noting how her eyes tracked my movement.
I looked around the room casually—her desk chair had clothes draped over it, backpack in the corner—no Dior bag anywhere though.
"Where's that beautiful purse Daddy got you?
I wanted to see how you're taking care of it. "
Macy's face flushed slightly. "It's... I left it at dad's."
"Hmmm. That wasn’t smart, Macy. Such an expensive piece—you want to make sure it stays perfect." I smiled softly. "I trust you realize you should bring it home with you this coming weekend. You understand?" "Oh. Um. Yeah. Sure." Her voice got quieter, more tentative as she spoke.
Interesting. The hesitation told me something had happened. Either the bag was damaged already—which would be typical Macy—or there was more to this story than I'd been told. I'm betting Felicity was trying to steal it. Like she was trying to steal my baby.
"You know, I've been thinking about our conversation earlier. About Felicity."
I could swear I saw Macy's shoulders tense. "Oh. Okay."
"I realize I may have been too harsh. You're growing up, and you're going to form attachments to people. That's natural."
Hope flickered across her face. "Really?"
"Really." I sat on the edge of her bed, smoothing the comforter with maternal care.
"But I also think there are things about adult relationships you don't understand.
It's not your fault obviously. It's just that, well honey—sometimes, when marriages are in trouble, children get caught in the middle. "
"In trouble? What do you mean?"
"Well, you probably noticed some tension between Felicity and your father. I didn't want to say, but I think it would be good for you to know a little bit—your father and Felicity have been having some problems lately."
Macy's eyes widened. "Problems?"
"Oh, honey," I sighed. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this.
" I almost whispered, looking down at my hands—as if wrestling with whether to continue.
"But I think you're old enough now to understand.
Sometimes when couples fight, they use children to send messages. To make the other person feel guilty."
"I don't understand."
"Think about it, sweetheart. These last few months or so, haven't you talked about Felicity trying to do more things with you when your dad had to work? Why do you think she's been doing that? All that special attention, encouraging you to spend more time with her."
I watched confusion cloud her features. Perfect.
"Because she cares about me?"
"Oh, I'm sure she does—in some way. But she also knows that if you're happy there, it makes your father happy." I paused for a moment. "And you know, if your father is happy, maybe he won't leave her."
Seeds of doubt were planted. I could see them root a bit, now I could let Macy's own insecurity water it.
"But...no. Really? No, Mom, she's not like that." Then she whispered, "she's nice to me."
"Of course she is!” Macy’s face reared back at my raised voice.
I needed to tone it down. She doesn’t understand how things work.
God! Why does my head hurt so badly?! I rubbed my temples as I started again.
“Honey, I’m just trying to tell you that's this is how these things work—it feels good at first. It's only later, when everything falls apart, where the kids are left hurting.
" I brushed a strand of hair from her face with practiced tenderness.
"And you're my baby. Of course I don't want you to be the one left hurting.
Because things will fall apart, Macy. They always do. "
"Dad wouldn't leave her. Would he?"
"I don't know, sweetheart. Marriage is complicated. What I do know is that, when children get too attached, they suffer."
I let that sink in for a moment, watching her process the implications.
"I can't tell you how to feel—I would never do something like that. I just want you to be careful, okay? Guard your heart a little bit. Don't let yourself be used as a pawn in their game."
"Is that why you didn't want me to make the video for her?"
Smart girl. "Partly, yes. I'm concerned that you're telling her you're sorry for something. And whatever it is, I'm sure you're just taking responsibility for adult problems that aren't your fault. And that's not fair to you."
Macy nodded slowly, and I could see the doubt continuing to take root. Good.
"Now, I want you to get some sleep. And tomorrow, we're going to have a conversation about computer privileges. You were such a good girl tonight—following the rules… And hearing me out. I think maybe you've earned some of those privileges back."