Page 46 of The Gathered Fragments of Us
She had another thing coming.
As a broker, I knew how to read between the lines, and to bury things between lines others don't read. I can see when someone was trying to game the system and I know how to do it better. How my own daughter thought she could outsmart me—she's going to have to learn.
"You know what?" I said, dabbing my lips with the napkin. "I think we should skip dessert tonight. I want to get home to Macy."
Brad raised an eyebrow. "Jess, she's grounded, right. Isn't she supposed to be in her room? Why do we need to get home early?"
"She is. But I think it's time for a mother-daughter conversation about respect. And consequences."
My husband was clearly not happy with me. I'll make it up to him later tonight. The drive home gave me time to plan. Macy was playing little Miss Innocent, probably pretending to betucked away in bed by now—thinking she'd gotten away with her little rebellion. Looks like she still had no idea I monitored every keystroke and click she made.
Most parents use monitoring software. How else am I supposed to keep an eye on and ensure she doesn't start to have loyalties to the wrong person—to the wrong woman—in the wrong place?
I let myself in quietly, having noted that Macy's light was off when we drove up. Good. She thought she was being so careful.
I walked up the stairs slowly, deliberately, my heels clicking on the hardwood just loud enough to announce my presence. Standing at her door, I could hear the rustle of movement inside—probably rushing to pretend she is asleep.
I knocked once, then opened the door without waiting for permission.
"Mom?" Macy's voice was perfectly pitched—surprised but sleepy, but I could tell she was faking a wake-up voice.
She was good. I'd give her that.
"Hi, sweetheart." I stepped into the room, leaving the door open behind me. "Did you have a good evening?"
"Yeah. I did some homework and went to bed early."
"That's good. Very responsible." I moved closer to her bed, noting how her eyes tracked my movement. I looked around the room casually—her desk chair had clothes draped over it, backpack in the corner—no Dior bag anywhere though. "Where's that beautiful purse Daddy got you? I wanted to see how you're taking care of it."
Macy's face flushed slightly. "It's... I left it at dad's."
"Hmmm. That wasn’t smart, Macy. Such an expensive piece—you want to make sure it stays perfect." I smiled softly. "I trust you realize you should bring it home with you this coming weekend. You understand?"
"Oh. Um. Yeah. Sure." Her voice got quieter, more tentative as she spoke.
Interesting. The hesitation told me something had happened. Either the bag was damaged already—which would be typical Macy—or there was more to this story than I'd been told. I'm betting Felicity was trying to steal it. Like she was trying to steal my baby.
"You know, I've been thinking about our conversation earlier. About Felicity."
I could swear I saw Macy's shoulders tense. "Oh. Okay."
"I realize I may have been too harsh. You're growing up, and you're going to form attachments to people. That's natural."
Hope flickered across her face. "Really?"
"Really." I sat on the edge of her bed, smoothing the comforter with maternal care. "But I also think there are things about adult relationships you don't understand. It's not your fault obviously. It's just that, well honey—sometimes, when marriages are in trouble, children get caught in the middle."
"In trouble? What do you mean?"
"Well, you probably noticed some tension between Felicity and your father. I didn't want to say, but I think it would be good for you to know a little bit—your father and Felicity have been having some problems lately."
Macy's eyes widened. "Problems?"
"Oh, honey," I sighed. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this." I almost whispered, looking down at my hands—as if wrestling with whether to continue. "But I think you're old enough now to understand. Sometimes when couples fight, they use children to send messages. To make the other person feel guilty."
"I don't understand."
"Think about it, sweetheart. These last few months or so, haven't you talked about Felicity trying to do more things with you when your dad had to work? Why do you think she's been doing that? All that special attention, encouraging you to spend more time with her."
