Chapter 5
I guess I’m never going to tell Brand.
After four months, I still haven’t told him. He’s wonderful with Emily and she loves him, I think. As for Kendra, she adores Emily, and Emily loves being around her. Chrissy comes by once every two weeks to take Kendra out. She’s supposed to have her all day but usually picks her up at about noon and returns her at about three or four. She’s just as haughty with me as she always was.
Miraculously, I resist the very real temptation to scratch that bitch’s eyes out.
I think I’m never going to tell Brand because it doesn’t seem to matter. He and I are growing closer and closer and the other day, I saw some brochures about adoption in his car. He wants to adopt her, which I guess means he wants to marry me.
I feel guilty, I guess.
But I don’t feel too bad. What’s the worst thing that happens? He falls in love with his own daughter and adopts her. She ends up with her mother and father, and that’s that. Yeah, I’m getting away with something and I suppose if you want to think poorly of me, you have the right. Still, things are working out so wonderfully that I can’t imagine risking things not going the way they are.
I’m not strong enough, I guess.
At the moment, I’m watching Emily playing with Kendra. Kendra is so sweet with her, so kind and loving. She also loves playing with her, wrestling and such. I might be imagining it but it seems like Emily is far steadier on her feet now than she ought to be at her age. I think that comes from all the play with Kendra. I think she loves the attention regardless of that, though. Who knows, maybe she’d be just as nimble at foot without us moving here but I know she’s happier because of it.
I’m happier, too.
I won’t risk losing him.
The knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. “I’ll get it,” I say as I stand up and walk to the door. When I open the door, I’m smiling. My smile disappears when I see that it’s Chrissy. I maintain a pleasant expression, though, if not a happy one. “I didn’t expect you today,” I say with a smile.
She’s just as haughty and disinterested in me as she always is. She says almost dismissively, “I’m here to see Brand.”
I know it makes me an immature brat but I can’t help myself. I call, “Sweetheart! Chrissy is here to see you!” Yeah, kind of spiteful and bitchy but it’s hard to resist. In any case, none of how I behave can compare to her bitchiness, right? I smile sweetly at her and say, “Won’t you come in?”
“Does she have to?” Kendra says sullenly.
And that I can’t tolerate. I’m not mean but I’m firm when I say, “Kendra, you come over here, say hello to your mother, and give her a hug.”
She doesn’t want to but even with the two year gap, she still recognizes my tone and respects my authority. She says, “Yes, Hailey.” She stands up and hurries over. She’s polite, too. She says, “Sorry, Mom. I’m having a bad day.” She’s having a great day but I’m not going to punish her for the white lie. “Lots of schoolwork but I finally finished. It’s good to see you.” She gives Chrissy a hug and I have a hard time keeping myself from smacking her mother. She reacts as though she’s really not interested in Kendra at all.
“Would you like to come in?” I ask.
She looks at me and she has a sort of a smirk on her face. I don’t know what it is but she’s clearly planning something. She usually looks pretty defeated when she comes here. Oh, she hides it well, and she maintains her air of superiority but she doesn’t like that Brand was never wrapped around her finger like she thought he was. “Thank you,” she says in that absolutely polite but nonetheless icy tone only a completely evil bitch can manage. (Hey, it’s my man’s ex. I’m allowed to be mean.)
Anyway, Brand comes out and they end up in the den. I want desperately, of course, to hear what they’re saying but I manage to resist temptation. After an hour, I get Emily to bed. Kendra and I go over her schoolwork. She says, “You were in eighth grade when you first started watching me, right?”
I smile and nod. “And now you’re in eighth grade.”
She nods and says, “And they’re still teaching eighth graders the same old crap.”
We have a laugh, finish up with her homework, and she starts for her room. I take her hand and try my best to appear stern and not overly sympathetic (like it’s a horrible thing, which it is) as I say, “Go tell your mother goodnight.”
She groans and I say, “You’re not happy about it now but you’re going to be very happy you didn’t burn bridges when you’re older.”
She gives me a hug and kisses my cheek. “Goodnight, Hailey,” she says. For a moment, I think maybe she’s trying to get out of talking to her mom but she heads toward the den and slips inside. A little while later, she comes out and shoots an exaggerated grimace in my direction as though complaining violently with her face. She can’t maintain it, though. She smiles and rolls her eyes and then turns in.
I sit for a few hours and that’s that. I’m ready to turn in when Brand and Chrissy come out of the den. “You need to take time to think about this,” she says.
“I’ve taken all the time I need to take,” Brand says, “and things will stay how they are.”
Something is wrong. Chrissy is too happy. She says, “Well, I guess it’s for the best. After all, you wouldn’t want your daughter living somewhere else.” She makes eye contact with me and says, “Not Kendra. I mean the baby. She’s yours. I had Marilyn check the hospital records. She got me a copy of the birth certificate. Guess who’s listed as the father.” She smirks at me and turns to Brand. “I guess your Little Miss Perfect isn’t as perfect as you think. She’s just a liar. You know, Brand. It’s hard to feel guilty about cheating on you when you were busy fucking the nanny.”
I’m going to die of shame. It’s that simple.