let her feed my son his last meal of the day later on this evening, and then kick her out. She could come back in the morning to feed him and take her ass somewhere for the next few hours until he grew hungry again.
It’s not like he was just on the tit; he was already eating solids as well. Maybe it was time to wean him. I’ll be sure to check with the pediatrician I have lined up. The sooner I get her out of our lives, the better. Now, mom had gone and thrown sand in my eye with her suggestion.
There was no point in arguing with her, I’m sure, and she did have a point, right now our only focus should be my son and what’s best for him. “Oh dear, is the pantry stocked? I know how much you hate eating at home alone, Calen, so I’m sure it isn’t. Better have Betsy go to the store, or should we have it delivered?” She didn’t wait for an answer, just continued steamrolling right over me.
“Yes, that sounds best. Come on, Giselle, you’d know better than I what foods you like for the baby. Calen, we’ll be using the computer in your office. Come along, dear, dinner will be here before you know it, and since you’re going to be staying here, you need to stock up as well. You’re still nursing, aren’t you?”
“That’s one of the things I regret not doing for Calen when he was born. Back then, breastfeeding wasn’t as prevalent as it is these days, not in our circles anyway. Now it’s all the rage. Maybe if I’d done that, he’d have more sense, what do you think?” That’s my mother, way to take my side. “Thanks, mom.” I ignored the two of them and left the room in the opposite direction to show my son the gardens and explain to him the play area I was going to have erected for him out there.
I refuse to think about the relief I feel at mom’s suggestion. I can roll with the punches, and now that I think about it, having Giselle’s disloyal ass near is maybe a good thing. Who knows what the hell schemes and plots she’d come up with when I’m not looking. No, this way is better; this way I can keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t pull another runner.
Not that I care. As long as she doesn’t take my son anywhere, she can walk her ass off the face of the earth for all I care. These up and down moods are going to play hell with my equilibrium. Better deal with her one way or the other before I make myself crazy.
Giselle
I feel like I’ve just been run over by a freight train. One minute I was evading Calen’s nasty glares, and the next, I was sitting beside his mom at the huge mahogany desk in his home office slash study. My face heated as I recalled the numerous times Calen had taken me on this very desk, which seemed to be one of the only things he hadn’t gotten rid of when he changed everything else in the house.
Before my mind could start wondering as to why that is and taking me down a long and winding road that leads to nowhere, I cut my thoughts off and tried to focus on what Rebecca was saying. I was still nervous in her presence, still expecting some kind of strong backlash for my actions, but for the half an hour we were there, she never once said anything derogatory or hurtful to me.
In fact, she acted as though we’d just seen each other the day before. The conversation sounded no different to many we’d had in the past, except for questions about the baby and his likes and dislikes and, of course, when she was going to be allowed to have him overnight once she set up a nursery at her home.
Her excitement and easy acceptance almost made me cry tears of shame, but as always, she seemed to recognize this and set about putting me at ease, much like she had the first time we met. It would’ve been so easy to fall back into the same old routine, like slipping my foot into an old comfortable shoe, but the fact that Calen had disappeared with our son kept me from being too relaxed.
That, and the thought of spending the night here. It’s funny,