Protecting Her

by Allie Everhart

CHAPTER TWELVE

  12

  RACHEL

  Last night I woke up thinking about what Pearce said about my reaction to Garret falling down. My mother used to react the same way when I used to fall down as a child. She’d pick me up, completely panicked over something as simple as a bruise or a scrape. I can’t be that way with Garret. I promised myself I wouldn’t be. But that’s exactly what I’ve done. The fact that Pearce recognized it after spending just one day with Garret and me proves how much I overreacted yesterday.

  I’m sure I’ll continue to do so, which is why I need Pearce around. He needs to tell me when I’m being that way with Garret, because right now, I don’t even recognize when I’m doing it. I really hope Pearce meant it when he said he’d stop working so much. I want to believe him, but I won’t until I actually see him at the dinner table every night and at home on the weekends.

  “Mama.” Garret kicks his little legs, splashing water everywhere.

  I took him to the pool today at the gym that’s in the next town over. We have a family membership but Pearce has only been here one time. He prefers to work out at the gym by his office.

  Garret and I have been coming here almost every day since the end of September when the weather became too cool to use our outdoor pool at home.

  “Good job,” I tell him, as I hold him in the water. My hands are around his tummy so that his arms and legs are free to move back and forth like I taught him.

  I let go of him for just a second and am shocked to see that he’s able to stay afloat all by himself. I fight the urge to grab him, and just let him keep going.

  “Garret, you’re swimming!” I can’t believe it. He’s actually swimming on his own! I wonder if he’s been able to do this for weeks and I just didn’t know because I wouldn’t let him try. I was too afraid he’d drown, even though I’m always right next to him. But today, I let him go and he did it. He actually kept his head above the water.

  I pick him up and hug him. “Sweetie, you were swimming all by yourself!” I kiss his wet cheek. He kicks his legs, hitting my stomach. “You want to try again?”

  It’s clear he does. He keeps trying to push away from me and he can’t take his eyes off the water. I lower him back into the pool and let him go and he paddles right past me.

  “How did you teach him that?” I hear a voice and pick up Garret before directing my attention to the woman standing next to the pool. She’s holding a little girl who’s probably around two.

  “I’ve had him in the pool since he was just a few months old,” I say, trying to hold him as he squirms in my arms, wanting to get back in the water. “But this is the first time he’s swam on his own like that.”

  She smiles. “You might have a future Olympian there.”

  I laugh. “We’re not quite at that point yet.”

  “I’m Janelle.” She leans over to shake my hand. “And this is Abby.” She points to her daughter, who turns away and clings to her mom.

  “Hi. I’m Rachel.” Garret’s still squirming, desperate to get back in the water. “And this is Garret.”

  “I’ve seen you here before. You come here a lot.” She smiles. “And you’re always in the pool.”

  I smile back. “I was on the swim team in high school and college, so the pool is like my second home.”

  “Have you ever thought of giving lessons?”

  “Swim lessons?”

  “Yeah. The gym is looking for an instructor. They had a college kid giving lessons here in the summer. He did okay, but as a mom, I’d much rather have an adult teaching my child. And you’re so good with your son, I bet you’d do great with other kids.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never taught anyone but Garret.”

  “You should think about it. Talk to the guy at the front desk. He can tell you more about it.” Her daughter starts fussing. “I need to get her home for her nap, but it was nice meeting you.”

  “Yeah, bye.”

  She leaves and I let Garret swim some more. He loves it. He’s so excited that he’s able to do this on his own. And he never would’ve done it if I hadn’t let him. If I hadn’t overcome my worries and let him at least try.

  On our way out, I stop at the front desk and ask the manager about the swim instructor job. He tells me about it and gives me an application to fill out. I think I might do it. Since Garret was born, I haven’t done much other than take care of him. I haven’t done any volunteer work or even left the house much. But now that Garret is older, I feel like it’s time to go out in the world again and do something. And teaching kids to swim would be a good start. It’s just a few hours a week and I can bring Garret with me.

  The manager told me I could put Garret in the gym’s day care free of charge while I teach. When he said it, a wave of panic went through me because I’ve never left Garret with anyone but Pearce. I don’t like the idea of Garret being cared for by strangers. But he can’t be with me when I’m teaching, and like Pearce said, I need to stop being so overprotective of Garret. The day care is staffed by older women who look like grandmothers. I’m sure he’d be okay being there for an hour or two.

  As I’m driving home, I decide I want to do this. I want to teach swimming lessons. It sounds fun and will get me out of the house.

  “What do you think, Garret? Should I teach other children how to swim?” I glance at him in the rearview mirror. He’s too busy playing with his plastic car to hear what I said.

  We’re sitting at a stoplight and I glance in the mirror again and notice a black car behind me. That same car was behind me when I left the gym. I’ve now driven ten miles and made multiple turns down several roads and that car is still behind me. The driver is wearing a black suit and has a black hat on, like one of those hats that chauffeurs wear.

  Is he following me? Why would a chauffeured car be following me? He’s probably not. I’m probably imagining things.

  The light turns green and I continue down the road. It winds to the left and then the right. There are several places to turn off, but the car remains behind me. I’m almost at the town square, just a few miles from home. I’m not sure what to do. Should I go home? But what if he follows me home?

  “Grrrrrrr.” I hear Garret making his race car sounds. I check the mirror and see him holding his toy car up in the air, then notice the black car is still right behind me.

  I slow down as I approach the town square. Instead of veering to the right, heading down the road that goes to the house, I drive around the town square. The car follows me. Shit. Why is he following me?

  I’ve now made an entire loop around the square. I notice a car parking in front of the diner and I pull into the spot right next to it as the black car drives away.

  I turn my car off and take some deep breaths. Why was I being followed? And who was that man who was following me? What if he knows where I live? What if he’s heading there right now? Waiting for me to get home?

  I get out of the car and open the door to the back seat. “Garret, we’re going inside to have a snack, okay?”

  He reaches his arms out to me as I unhook him from the car seat.

  “Morning, Mrs. Kensington.”

  I turn back and see Mr. Thomas standing on the sidewalk. He works at the grocery store and sometimes I see him at the park with his grandchildren. He’s an older man with white hair. He’s very friendly and always hands out lollipops to the kids in town.

  “Hi, Mr. Thomas.” I take Garret and meet up with Mr. Thomas on the sidewalk.

  “Hi, little man,” he says, smiling at Garret. “Look what I’ve got for you.” He hands him a red lollipop. I don’t let Garret have lollipops yet. He’s too young and could choke, but I always let Mr. Thomas give him one anyway.

  “Thank you,” I tell him.

  “Having an early lunch?” he asks.

  “Um, no. Just a little snack.”

  We walk to the diner and Mr. Thomas holds the door open for me. He goes to the counter and asks the waitress for coffee. I take Garre
t to a booth, still shaken up from what happened.

  Maybe that man wasn’t really following me. Maybe he was just lost. But it really felt like he was following me.

  I decide to call Pearce, but when I do, he doesn’t answer. So I order Garret some chocolate milk and we sit there for a half hour.

  Garret’s tired and needs a nap. We need to get home. I call Pearce again but he doesn’t pick up. He’s probably in meetings.

  When I get to the house, I don’t see that black car anywhere on the street. My next door neighbor is weeding her flower garden and my neighbor on the other side is sweeping off her porch. So at least I’m not alone. I relax and take Garret into the house and put him down for a nap.

  As I’m coming back downstairs, I jump when I hear a loud knock at the door. Maybe it’s one of my neighbors, although my neighbors don’t usually knock that loud. The knocking continues and I cautiously open the door.

  Holton is standing there in his black suit and gray tie. I tense up and my pulse quickens. I don’t know why he makes me so nervous. He’s my father-in-law. He shouldn’t make me nervous. But he does. He has since the first day I met him.

  Pearce’s parents have been back in our lives for over a year now and we haven’t had any problems with them. They’re still not friendly to me, but we get along okay, and Eleanor is much nicer to me now than she was before I had Garret. But Holton still makes me very uncomfortable.

  I see the serious look on his face and start to worry. Did something happen to Pearce? Is that why he wouldn’t answer his phone? Is his father here to tell me something bad happened?

  “Holton. Is something wrong?”

  He steps past me into the house. “I need to speak with you about my son.”

  Now I’m panicking. I close the door and turn to him. “What happened? Is he hurt?”

  “Hurt?” Holton gives me a strange look. “He’s fine. He’s at the office.” He points to the couch. “Sit down.”

  I don’t like him ordering me around, but I sit anyway. He sits in the chair.

  “Pearce is entering a very critical phase of his career,” he says. “As the future—”

  “Wait. Could you please explain why you’re here? I wasn’t expecting you and I just got home and—”

  “Do NOT interrupt me,” he says, even though he just did so to me. “I’m here because my son apparently is unable to say no to you.”

  “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “This morning my son informed me that he will be cutting back his hours at the office.”

  “Yes, but that was—”

  “Let me finish!” He raises his voice.

  By now, I should be used to this man and his rude behavior, but I’m not. I don’t understand why he’s always so angry and hostile. He had cancer and almost died. You’d think that would make him turn a new leaf. Be happy to be alive. Be thankful for his family and our support during his treatment. But it didn’t have that effect on him.

  He continues. “My son is being groomed to take over the company someday. He’s the future CEO of Kensington Chemical.”

  Why is he telling me this? I already know all this. But I sit quietly and let him talk.

  “As I was saying, Pearce is in a critical phase of his career. He’s making connections with clients, learning the business, acquiring the skills he’ll need to be CEO. He cannot be sidetracked by a needy wife, demanding he be home at a certain hour.”

  I want to yell at him for making such a rude and sexist comment, but that wouldn’t do any good. I’ve learned that getting angry only makes him continue the behavior. He likes getting a rise out of people. It makes him feel powerful. It’s better if I don’t react at all. He finds it irritating. And he hates it even more if I’m nice.

  I smile at him and calmly ask, “May I speak now? Or do you have more to say? I’m in no rush, so feel free to continue.”

  As predicted, he’s annoyed by my reaction, as evidenced by the sneer on his face. “I need you to convince my son to return to his regular hours. As the wife of an executive, it is your job to take over the household chores and childrearing, so that Pearce’s sole focus can be his career. If you are unable to handle those duties, there are plenty of suitable companies that can handle them for you. Eleanor can give you the names of such services.”

  I nod, like I’m agreeing to it, even though I’m not.

  He leans back and crosses his legs. “Now that we have that settled, let’s talk about Garret.”

  “What about him?”

  “I have researched the private schools in this area and picked the one that would be most appropriate for my grandson. There’s a waiting list, so I added his name to the list.”

  Now I’m really angry and finding it hard to hide. It was bad enough he’s trying to control Pearce, but now he’s trying to control Garret as well?

  I straighten up and look him in the eye. “Garret is only fourteen months old. Pearce and I have not yet discussed his education, but when we do, we will be the ones deciding which school he will attend. I appreciate your concern about Garret’s future, but it is not your place to put him on a list for a school I know nothing about. I don’t even know if we’re sending him to private school.”

  “Of COURSE he’s going to private school,” Holton says, raising his voice again. He uncrosses his legs and sits up taller. “My grandson is not going to be educated in a public school filled with inferior teachers who graduated from state colleges and are nothing more than babysitters. And his classmates will not be low-class delinquents with degenerate parents. He will not be associating with those people. It’s bad enough you force him to live in this trashy neighborhood.” He huffs out an angry breath. “If my son were able to say no to you, he would never live in a place like this. This tiny run-down house is a disgrace! It sickens me to know that this is where my grandson is being raised!”

  I sit there, waiting for his rant to end. It reminds me of the time Holton came to the loft, trying to convince me to divorce Pearce. When Holton gets like this, it’s best to just let him get it out of his system.

  I notice the silence and say, “Are we done here?”

  He stands up and removes something from his suit jacket. It looks like a brochure. He hands it to me as I get up from the couch. “This is where my grandson will be attending school. You will be receiving paperwork from them in the next day or so. You and Pearce will sign the paperwork so that Garret is on the official wait list. My signature only allowed him to be on the temporary list.”

  “I need to discuss this with Pearce before we make a decision.”

  “That is where he is going. There is no need to discuss it.”

  “As I said earlier, where Garret goes to school is not your decision.”

  Holton steps closer to me, his eyes like daggers, glaring back at me. “Do not challenge me. I will always win.”

  An icy chill runs through me and I feel myself shaking a little from his words and the dark, eerie tone he used when he said them.

  He turns and walks to the door.

  “Did you have me followed?” I blurt out.

  He pivots back to me and smirks. “Why would I have you followed?”

  “I…I don’t know. I just…I just wanted to ask.” I shouldn’t stammer. I don’t want him knowing how he intimidates me.

  “So you feel as though you’re being followed?”

  “I’m not sure. There was this car and I felt like…I felt like it was following me.” I shouldn’t be telling him this. I should tell Pearce, not his father.

  “And you didn’t feel safe?” The sides of his lips turn up just slightly.

  I quickly shake my head. “I’m sure it was nothing. Just forget it.”

  “You should be more careful.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You’re married to my son.” Holton opens the door, and as he walks out, I hear him say, “You’re always in danger.”

  I shut the door and lock it. Was he threatenin
g me just now? Or just trying to scare me into doing whatever he says? Whatever he was doing, I didn’t like it.

  I look at the brochure he gave me. It’s for a prep school and has photos of children wearing navy and white uniforms. How dare Holton just sign Garret up without even asking Pearce and me. It’s not Holton’s decision and he needs to stay out of it.

  I pick up the phone to call Pearce, but then decide to wait until he gets home. We need to discuss his father’s visit in person.

  At five-thirty, Pearce walks through the door. I’m relieved. Part of me was sure he was going to call and say he’d be late.

  “Dada!” Garret toddles over to him, going so fast he almost falls.

  Pearce picks him up and kisses his cheek. “Were you waiting for Daddy to get home?”

  I go up and give Pearce a kiss. “He’s been looking at the door all afternoon. He keeps coming over here to check if you’re home.”

  Pearce talks to him. “I’m right here. And I’ll be here all weekend.” He tosses him in the air and Garret laughs.

  “Pearce, could we talk for a minute?”

  “Yes, but let’s go to the bedroom so I can change.”

  The three of us go upstairs. I take Garret from him and go sit on the bed.

  “Your father stopped by,” I say, as Pearce takes his suit jacket off.

  “Why was my father here?” He puts his jacket on the hanger.

  “To tell me to convince you to go back to working all the time.”

  “He should not have done that. I’ll have a talk with him on Monday.” He hangs his pants up and puts some jeans on.

  “He was really angry. He blamed me for why you’re cutting back on your hours.”

  “Just ignore him.” Pearce undoes his tie and takes his dress shirt off. “He expects me to be just like him, ignoring my family and spending all my time at work. When I told him I don’t want that, he didn’t believe me, which is why he blames you. I made it clear to him that it was my decision. He just chooses not to accept that.” He takes a polo shirt from the closet and puts it on.

  Garret wriggles in my arms, wanting to get down. I set him on the floor and he toddles over to Pearce. He’s lost all interest in me now that his dad’s home.