by Lexy Timms
“I wanted to talk with you about this new hire. Anna?” she asked.
“What about her?”
“I wanted to talk about expanding the scope of her program.”
“Program or project?” I asked.
“No, no. She’s taking over her project this summer to see if it’ll work, the free legal counsel thing she’s doing. But, if it’s successful, I want to know what it’s going to take to make that project a part of her program. The board loves what she’s doing and isn’t sure why we didn’t come up with it sooner.”
“I could run some numbers tomorrow and come up with a couple coordination tactics to keep things nice and tidy.”
“I would appreciate that. Any way you could get it to me to pass to them by Friday?” she asked.
“Consider it done,” I said.
I walked out of my meeting with Ellen and tried to center myself for where I was headed next. I didn't want anyone to register anything on my face except excitement. I needed to talk with Foreman Duke about the new changes that had taken place within the company, but I also needed to stop by the site where the house was being built. If I had it my way, I would have built this thing with my own two hands. I would have directed every aspect of the construction and checked every nail before it was driven into the wood. But I had the foundation job to worry about, I’d had the European tour I went on with Hailey, and now I had a baby on the way.
So, I had to put my trust in the hands of one of the guys I had trained during my time at the construction company.
“Bryan!”
“Foreman Jack. Just the man I wanted to see.”
“Coming to check up on the house?” he asked.
“The pictures you sent while I was away didn’t do it justice. This house is massive,” I said.
“With all the room you wanted and the views you specified, it needed to be,” he said.
“How’s it coming along?” I asked.
“Well, the outside’s completely done. We’re putting the finishing touches on everything on the inside. Should only take a couple more weeks. You got that wallpaper for me yet?”
“Not yet. Hailey just got done painting the wall of that room.”
“She’s going to be so pissed at you for keeping this from her,” he said.
“I was concerned about that too. But I think it’ll all be okay in the end. I’ve been trying to match the decoration in the house as best as I can while still leaving room for her to put her own details on it. And her painting isn’t going to waste. Not completely.”
“Whatever you say, boss,” he said, grinning.
“You said a couple of weeks?” I asked.
“Yep. You just worry about getting me that wallpaper. Once we’re a couple of days from finishing, I’ll let you know so you can furniture shop.”
“Sounds good to me. Thanks, Jack. I really appreciate it.”
“You headed to see Duke soon?” he asked.
“I’m headed there now. What’s up?”
“There’ve been some changes I know he wants to talk with you about. He said if I saw you to tell you he wanted to see you.”
“I know about them. I just got back from a meeting with Ellen. Let him know I’m headed his way now.”
“Will do, Bryan. And get me that damn wallpaper!”
“I’m working on it!”
Jack did have a point. I was running the risk that Hailey might be upset with me for doing all of this behind her back. I was trying to leave her enough creative room with decorating while still decorating it so she didn't feel the need to fix up an entire house after having a child. I figured the wallpaper would be a good second choice for the work she had put into the nursery in our current house over the past couple of weeks. Even though I’d tried to convince her not to do it.
But even though I was worried about her being upset, I was ready for this project to be over. I was ready to present to her the gateway that would usher us into our new life together. I was ready to show her the home we would bring our child back to. The home we would fill with memories. The home she would call her art studio and her safe place to fall.
I was ready to give her everything, and I smiled to myself as I got in the car and made my way to see Foreman Duke.
Nothing could bring me down off this cloud.
Nothing could get in my way.
Chapter 4
Hailey
“How are things at the foundation going?” Dorothy asked.
“Good. Ellen St. Claire has been on board for everything I’ve thrown up so far, and the board has approved all the changes I’ve wanted to make in order to bolster efficiency,” Bryan said.
“That sounds lovely. Ellen is a wonderful woman. It’s a shame what happened with her husband, though I hear she’s available now,” Dorothy said.
“I’m sure she’ll find someone special,” Bryan said.
It was time for our monthly dinner with Bryan's parents. Every time we came over to eat, something always blew up in our faces. I had a long first day back at the gallery, Bryan had gone to the foundation to work his first full-time day since they had hired him, and I was already on edge. My rational mind knew Dorothy didn't mean anything by the comment about Ellen being single, but my raging pregnancy hormones started that nagging voice in the back of my head, the voice that told me she was about to start drama that I was going to inevitably finish.
“Who all is on that board?” Michael asked. “I know Kevin Montgomery heads it up.”
“He does. His wife, Charlene, is also on the board. I work closely with her since she aids the treasurer in securing and keeping tabs on our finances. There’s also Daryl Worth, his daughter Chastaine, Lisa and LaDonna Lotchkey, and Bret Cherish,” Bryan said.
“Well, it’s nice to finally hear you establishing connections with good people,” Dorothy said.
“Everyone I make connections with is a good person, Mom,” Bryan said.
“We can all have our opinions, dear,” Dorothy said.
I was growing more annoyed by the second, but I kept my mouth shut. Her eyes kept glancing over at me, trying to get a glimpse of my stomach protruding underneath the table. I knew she was about to turn the conversation toward me. I could see the question brewing behind her eyes. I picked up the food on my plate as I drew deep breaths through my nose, trying to settle myself for the argument I knew would eventually arrive.
“Do the two of you have a name for the child yet?” Dorothy asked.
“Not quite,” I said. “We’re still bouncing between Arianna and Lacy for a girl and Michael or Brendan for a boy,” I said.
I didn’t know how well Dorothy would take if I told her we would name a boy ‘John’, so I kept that to myself.
“Michael is quite a strong name. I’m fond of it,” Michael said.
“I’m sure you are, Mr. McBride,” I said, grinning.
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Michael? You’re our daughter-in-law and carrying our granddaughter!”
“Oh, it’s a girl! I knew it!” Dorothy said.
“We don’t know that for sure,” I said. “Bryan and his father insist it’s a girl, though.”
“Well, a simple blood test will clear all of this up. Is the child being stubborn for the ultrasounds? Oh, that child is going to get that from you, Hailey.”
“Did you just call me stubborn?” I asked.
“Mom, what did I tell you?” Bryan asked. “We’re still a little confused on the gender of the child. It doesn’t matter to us as long as the child’s healthy.”
“Well, the two of you are not the only ones rejoicing in this venture. There are people who want to know. Myself, included,” Dorothy said.
“It’s their decision, sweetheart,” Michael said. “Why can’t you respect that?”
“And why would you call me stubborn?” I asked.
“Because I’m sure you’re the one holding off on all of this. I know the two of you had the gender checked. Bryan told me. W
hy won’t you tell anyone?” Dorothy asked.
“Mother, are you serious?” Bryan asked.
“Is that true?” I asked. “Did you tell her we already knew the gender of the baby?”
“Technically, yes. But have I told anyone the gender? No. Do I want to? Who wouldn’t? But it doesn’t matter to me. Not enough to cause a fuss about it.”
“I’m not causing a fuss. I just don’t see what the big deal is,” I said.
“Compromise is something you’ll have to get used to now that you’re married, Hailey,” Dorothy said.
“I’m not sure how compromise works with you, but it doesn’t mean one person gets their way and the other doesn’t,” I said.
“Well, how in the world are you two going to know what types of clothes to buy for the poor child?” Dorothy asked.
“Gender-neutral colors,” I said. “Like yellows and oranges and browns and beiges.”
“Those aren’t gender neutral. That screams boy,” Dorothy said. “For heaven’s sake, those were the colors we had for—”
I saw Michael glance over at Dorothy as Bryan clamped his hand down onto my knee. I knew exactly what she was about to say. Those were the colors they had in John's room. I wasn't sure where to go from here with the conversation, but I was not going to allow her to win it just because she was grieving. This was our child, not hers. And if we didn't want to find out the gender of the child, she was not going to bully me into doing it.
“John would want to know,” Dorothy said.
“That is enough,” Bryan said. “You will not use John as an argument to get your way. His death was hard on all of us. You, in particular. But you will not use him as bait to manipulate my wife and the mother of my child.”
“But he would!” Dorothy said.
“Honey. Back down,” Michael said.
“You aren’t going to tell me what to do. This is an important part of being grandparents, showering the child with gifts and clothes. They wouldn’t even let us buy their nursery.”
“Because I made the damn furniture for it, Mother!” Bryan said.
“What happened to compromise, Mrs. McBride?” I asked.
My hands were shaking underneath the table, but I was not going to allow anyone to see. Her words cut me deep. The mere fact that a mother could use her murdered son to manipulate someone to get her way was beyond me. Instead of grieving the way she needed to and reaching out when she needed help, she was taking her anger out on the people around her. It had been like this for weeks. They hated the fact that I had taken Bryan on my European tour, accusing me of trying to create distance between him and his family. I’d had an argument with Dorothy, claiming that she had orchestrated enough of that herself and that the distance she had with Bryan was her own doing.
Now, we were lucky if we ate with them once a month, and I was ready to cut them out all together.
“You are a stubborn, hardheaded woman, Hailey. You pushed my son away not once but twice. You broke him down, brought him back up, and then squashed him underneath your heel.”
“That is enough,” Michael said.
“Mother, stop it,” Bryan said.
“And if you think for one second that you are going to block me out of my grandchild’s life, you are sorely mistaken. I will be watching you, Hailey. And if you misstep even once, I will intervene on behalf of that child,” Dorothy said.
“Intervene? I’m not an abusive woman like you have turned out to be,” I said. “The distance you’ve created is of your own doing because instead of getting help for your anger, you take it out on those around you. You expect everyone to fall at your feet because you have money, and you’re pissed that I don’t. If there is anyone I don’t want my child growing up around, it’s you. With your anger and your spitefulness and your holier-than-thou attitude, I would rather raise my child in the bowels of hell than have our baby turn out like you.”
I was on my feet and panting in anger. I’d told Bryan this was going to happen. I’d warned Bryan she was going to come for us again. She was getting relentless with what she was doing. And Bryan would try to come to her aid just because she popped by the house a few times to try and help me out ‘when she could.’ She thought that her few good deeds could erase the disgusting and horrible words she spewed whenever we were sitting at her dinner table.
But this was my child, and this was about my child's well-being. And if being around an influence like Dorothy was going to make my child turn out like her, I would fight whatever fights were necessary to keep them away.
For good, if that was what it came down to.
“Okay. Everyone just calm down,” Michael said. “We’re here to have a nice family dinner and see how Hailey is doing. Hailey, how is your pregnancy going?”
“It’s shit,” I said.
Everyone fell silent as Dorothy and I stared at one another. I did not want to be here another second. I had lost my appetite, I was exhausted, I still had paint sitting on the back of my neck that I could feel taunting me, and I was ready to go home. I wanted to take a warm bath, lie in bed, dream about all of the wonderful artwork I could create that would help to alleviate my raging emotions, and go through more applications for the person I had to hire. My hips ached, I could feel my boobs chafing again, and the heartburn that I knew would plague me all night was rising up the back of my throat.
Bryan’s hand slipping into mine pulled me from the staring contest I was having with his mother. I looked over at him, and his dazzling eyes had a calming effect on me. I stepped out from in front of my chair and leaned into him, his hands massaging my shoulders as he held me close. He placed a chaste kiss on my forehead as I sighed into his chest, my body wanting him to hold me closer than my stomach would allow.
I couldn’t even hug Bryan properly when I needed him the most.
“We’re leaving,” Bryan said.
“Son, just sit down. I really want to know how you guys are doing. We haven’t even talked about the tour yet,” Michael said.
“You’re more than welcome to come to the house and talk anytime, Dad. You know this. Our house is as open to you guys as your house is supposed to be to us,” Bryan said.
“Don’t you want them to stay, Dorothy?” Michael asked. “Don’t you want to hear about their travels?”
But Dorothy stayed silent, sitting in her chair and pouting like a four-year-old.
“Michael, I’d love to talk with you anytime about the European tour. I’d love to tell you all about Barcelona. It was my favorite stop,” I said.
“Maybe I could come over this weekend. I’ll bring decaf coffee,” Michael said.
“That stuff tastes like diesel fuel,” I said, grinning. “Milkshakes?”
“Milkshakes it is,” Michael said.
“And mother?” Bryan asked.
Dorothy panned her gaze over to her son, her eyes glazed over and vacant. In another world and at another time, I would have taken pity on her. I knew she was grieving. I knew she was still processing what happened with John. The stuff that Michael uncovered when he was pulling the strings he’d pulled were nothing short of blatantly disgusting. Even as I wasn’t a mother yet, I could never imagine the pain of losing a child, and I hoped I never had to. But her words and her tone and the way she addressed me were inexcusable, grieving or not.
“Until you can apologize sincerely to Hailey, we won’t be back, and you won’t be welcome,” Bryan said.
“I will not apologize when I have done nothing wrong. Hailey is actively isolating this family from anything having to do with that child, and you can’t even see it because you’re so blinded by whatever love you think you have for her. But you will see your mistake, sweetheart. I just hope it isn’t beyond repair by that point,” Dorothy said.
Bryan took my hand and led me toward the door as Michael got out of his seat. I couldn’t believe what Dorothy had just said. I thought the anger and animosity were gone. I thought all of this was put behind us. I thought the distance we�
�d put between all of us with this tour would’ve helped everyone to screw their heads on straight, but it only seemed like Dorothy had lost hers.
Michael strode over to us and helped me get my coat on, even though it was the beginning of summer. Whenever I became angry, especially now, my body would run cold. I was shivering as Michael helped me with my coat, and he pulled me in for a hug before he relinquished me into the night.
“I’ll see you soon, Hailey. Gather up all those stories for me and have them at the ready. Barcelona is somewhere I have yet to travel,” Michael said.
“I’ll be ready and waiting,” I said, grinning.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. For Dorothy and what she said.”
“It’s not you who has to apologize, Michael. It’s Dorothy. But it doesn’t sound like she will. Either way, it’s not your problem,” I said.
“Come on, Hailey. Let’s get going,” Bryan said.
I hugged Michael's neck one last time before I made my way to the car. The ride was silent, and I could tell Bryan was fuming. I simply could not believe what Dorothy had said to me. Taking my child away from me? Did she really think I was that terrible of a person? I was going to love this child with everything I had. I was reading every single parenting book I could get my hands on. I was asking women for advice and trying to figure out whether I wanted to use cloth diapers, to breastfeed or use formula, to use daycare or work from home. I was already trying to be the best mother I could be, and I hadn't even given birth yet.
I just didn't know what had caused her to turn on me like she had.
We pulled up to the house, and I slammed out of the car. I stopped at the door and unlocked it, shoving my way into the house. Without shutting the door behind me, I shed my clothes and made my way upstairs, not caring about the mess I was leaving behind. I was upset, I was still dirty, even though I have taken a shower before we left for dinner, and I wanted to be left alone.
But before I could even start the water running for my bath, I heard a knock on the door behind me.
“Can I get you anything?” Bryan asked. “You didn’t eat much at dinner.”