The quiver in her voice beckons me to sit closer. I move to her side and begin stroking her back, still remaining silent. I don’t want to rush her.
“She was supposed to be there to watch my baby,” Shanice says, a tinge of outrage making its way into her voice. “We’ve hired her since she was in high school. She was seventeen the first time she babysat Randy.
“Now, two years later, she’s home from college on Christmas break, and I think I might be able to get a little help with watching the kids every now and then. I even suggested we hire her one night so we could have a date night. Like we used to when we first got married.”
There’s so much pain in her eyes when Shanice looks up at me again.
“But instead, I get home to find my babysitter in bed with my husband. Inourbed,” she cries, her body trembling.
After taking the mug from her hands before she drops it, I place it on the coffee table next to my untouched hot chocolate.
“Oh, sweetheart,” I say, pulling her into me.
While I was married to Rick, I had my suspicions that he was two-timing me, but I never had proof. I don’t know what I would’ve done or felt if I’d walked in on him betraying me like that in our home … our bed.
After a minute, Shanice pulls away.
“That’s not even the worst part.”
Oh goodness. How can it get any worse than that?
“After he saw me and Tricia went scurrying out, crying about how sorry she was, he blamed me. He said it was my fault for coming home earlier than I told him.”
“No!” I cannot believe my damn ears, but I do my best to rein in my anger. Shanice doesn’t need to deal with my emotions on top of her own.
“And while they were busy in our damn bedroom, Charlotte was in the playroom screaming her head off. Th-They, p-put my b-baby in the pl-pl-playroom so they could f-fuck.”
I can’t help the way my eyes bulge. Never in her twenty-seven years of life have I ever heard my daughter curse.
I highly doubt she even does it around her friends or little sister. In other words, Shanice doesn’t curse.
She’s hurt and angry.
Charlotte stirs a little, sighing, her eyes blinking as if she’s on the cusp of waking up.
“I’ll take care of her,” I tell Shanice when she starts to reach for the baby.
I pick up my granddaughter, patting her back and rocking her gently until her head lays gently against my shoulder. Once I’m assured she’s asleep, I ask Shanice for her baby monitor.
Somehow, I knew she’d have it on her because she’s always prepared. I turn on the camera monitor and then carry Charlotte down the hall to the same bedroom where her brother sleeps peacefully.
The bed is big enough that the two can share it. After creating a pillow fort around Charlotte, I set up the monitor so it’s able to catch a view of the both of them and then head back to the living room.
Shanice is pacing once again.
“Do you want to keep talking?” I ask, taking a seat back on the couch.
She comes to sit beside me, facing me.
“How could he do that to me?” she asks with tears streaming down her face. “To us? We were supposed to be a family. He promised that if I just took care of our home and him, that hewould work and take care of us. Do you know what he said when I reminded him of that?”
I wait expectedly.
“He said that he was holding up his end of the deal. That he’s a man with needs and a woman who has two kids hanging off of her all day couldn’t possibly fulfill his every need. Then he told me I just needed to get used to it.”
She shoots up to her feet. “Get used to it!” she repeats, her voice growing more erratic.
“I told him I would not tolerate that and that I was leaving. I tried to leave the room, and that’s when …” She holds up her bruised wrist.
