Chapter 24

Wendy made me a nutritious breakfast. I was halfway through my meal when Yvonne came bounding in. “Mom, you’re not going to work today,” she declared. “You have to stay home and play with me.”

I looked at her while spooning my gruel. “From now on, I will be going back to work,” I said. “But we’ll sign you up for some fun classes–you’ll have teachers and classmates to keep you company.”

Yvonne’s face paled at the mention of classes. In an instant, she was pointing at me, her voice rising to a wail. “I don’t want classes. You’re mean. I hate you. I’m telling Grandma.” She turned and ran toward the door to find her grandmother.

“Come back,” I commanded, my voice icy. “Go ahead–try telling on me.”

Yvonne’s face was still wet with crocodile tears. She turned to look at me, her eyes wide–almost like she was seeing me for the first time. And for just a second, I caught a flicker of fear.

I set my bread down slowly, took a sip of lemon water, and fixed her with a cold stare. “Yvonne, I’m your mother. I brought you into this world. You will respect me.

“But if you’d rather have a different mother, go ask your father. I won’t stand in your way.”

Yvonne wasn’t stupid. She blinked, getting the message quickly. After a pause, she inched closer, clutching my arm. “Mom, I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I won’t talk back again. And I won’t tattle to Grandma. I know you love me best.”

I studied my daughter–so clever and perceptive. It hurt to remember how, in my previous life, she’d still been taking Tracy’s side even when she was thirty years old.

She’d said I deserved the pain, that I was my own worst enemy, dragging everyone down with my unhappiness.

I was failing as a parent, and I didn’t know how to fix it. All I wanted was to raise a child who might one day look at me with love–maybe even gratitude.

Modern parenting advice kept telling us to take it easy on our kids. It encouraged us to offer support rather than impose limitations, to foster happiness instead of hardship, and to permit unrestrained development.

But for those of us who grew up in the 80s and 90s, caught between these new ideas and how we were raised, it became exhausting to know what was right.

“Go play. I’ve got work soon.” Rubbing my temples, I nudged Yvonne toward her pony and went upstairs to change.

The mirror reflected the marks Jared had left the night before–love bites scattered down my neck and back. Back then, I would’ve covered every one, too shy to let them show.

But today, I didn’t bother hiding a single one. Why should I? A little passion between spouses was nothing to be ashamed of.

I deliberately chose a sleeveless V-neck sweater with beige trousers, tying my hair back loosely to proudly display last night’s love marks. My rose earrings swung provocatively with every move.

I was carrying files down the corporate hallway when I spotted Tracy walking with a group of executives toward a meeting. As we passed each other, I subtly tilted my head to the side.

Tracy stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes locking onto the love bites on my neck.