CHAPTER NINETEEN
Maddie
“You’re such a good mommy,” I said to the dog, stroking CeeCee’s little head.
“Thank you,” Kenzie replied primly, putting the puppy she was holding back into the warm bed.
I grinned at her, my heart squeezing in my chest as she grinned back. I was totally in love.
We’d been in Montauk eleven days, and they’d been more bliss filled than I could ever imagine. Not just the lovemaking, but also this… hanging out with Xander’s children. Being a family.
At the palace, we children never ate with adults. At dinner parties, we were introduced and then herded off to the nursery by our nannies. Mama would often come to say goodnight. If we were lucky, she would stay a little while and read a story or two. But not for long, never long enough. It was strange. We saw so little of the sweet-smelling woman with her golden hair always pulled up from her face, yet we all clung to her, even sometimes cried when she left. Soothed by our nannies.
The mother bond, I realized now, was something instinctually engrained into each of us upon birth. A part of the deep, limbic brain that ensured our survival. It made our hearts remember to beat, our lungs remember to breathe in and out. And it made us want our mothers.
As little as I really knew her, I wanted my mother now.
I wished I could tell her how well I was doing. Assure her that her risk had been rewarded. Tell her “thank you” one more time. I owed her everything for leading me to the door that, once I opened it, gave me all this.
Family.
Kenzie was easy to love. She was such a happy child, inquisitive, and she liked being around me in return. Almost too much. It had been a surprise the first time she burst into the bathroom while I was sitting on the toilet.
I’d yelped and pulled my robe tighter around me. “Is everything okay?” I asked her when she casually strolled in.
She had just grinned. “Yep.” She’d gone to the mirror and taken my brush to stroke down her hair, then grabbed a lip gloss and dabbed it on her lips.
With as little privacy as I’d had at the palace, I was generally alone in the toilet. Having company was a bit uncomfortable and unexpected. And why was Kenzie there?
“Do you need something?”
She opened an eyeshadow kit. “Nope.”
When she kept inspecting the makeup I never wore, I cleared my throat. “Can I have a little privacy?”
Her head cocked to the side, and she had asked as casually as could be, “Why? Do you have to poop?”
Xander had howled when I told him about that little scene later that night. The next time I used the bathroom, I’d locked the door, but Kenzie had simply laid on the floor, talking to me through the crack at the bottom. I’d given up and began to realize that children had no inhibitions. Nothing was off-limits.
Well, it was that way with Kenzie. Kylian had limits, they just appeared and disappeared without warning. There were times when he was open and funny. There were other times when he was sullen, angry with the world. Xander had been given the name of a child psychologist, but he’d seemed even angrier after his first visit.
“Do you think I’m crazy?” I’d heard him shout at his father.
“Of course not,” Xander replied quickly. “It’s just always a good thing to talk to someone after something bad happens.”
Kylian hadn’t seemed convinced and had stormed off to his room, slamming the door.
“When will Daddy be back?” Kenzie asked as she picked up another puppy. Xander had a big meeting in the city he couldn’t miss and had left very early that morning.
I glanced at the clock. “It’s only two, and he’s not supposed to be back until seven.” I held up my hand, lifting my fingers one at a time, and we started counting together, but in French, which Kenzie had been keen to learn. “Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq.”
I clapped. “Very good.”
She grinned. “Let’s do Spanish now.”
And so, it began. We counted in Spanish, German, and Japanese. The last always made her laugh for some reason, maybe because she always shouted, “Go,” when we got to the number five, which was, in fact, go.
Kylian wandered in and sat down beside us, looking at the puppies. It was another sullen day, and nothing I had suggested we do seemed to liven him up. But there was a little grin on his face as he picked up the brown, black, and white spotted puppy. It seemed to be his favorite.
“When will their eyes open?” he asked, looking into the tiny face.
“Hopefully in another couple days. Have you thought more about names for them?”
Kylian lifted a shoulder. “I was thinking maybe Tres for this guy. You know, since he has three different colors.”
I smiled. He hadn’t wanted to participate in the language lessons, but he’d been listening. “I like that.”
Kenzie chirped in. “I like it too.” She looked at the other puppies with only one or two colors. “That gives me an idea. We—”
The doorbell chimed and all three of us looked at each other. “Who could that be?” I asked, immediately alarmed.
Not Kenzie. She was on her feet, running like an entire herd of elephants toward the front door.
I chased after her, whisper-yelling her name. The alarm panel glowed red, a reminder the system was armed, and it gave me a measure of safety. This was the first time anyone had dropped by, and a sense of foreboding settled over me. I liked being here, nestled behind the dunes, hidden from the world that could be so cold and frightening.
Kenzie was at the door and had flipped the lock and was turning the knob with both hands by the time I caught up to her. “Kenzie, don’t. Wait.” It was too late, the door was opening, and the warning of the alarm began its tone.
“Mommy! Mommy!”
Behind me, I heard a small, “Mom?”
I stood there, stunned. The last Xander had told me, his ex-wife was in some pretty serious trouble, and he thought she’d be too busy digging herself out of it to bother us. She’d last wanted money, and I heard him arguing with her about it.
But here she was, lifting Kenzie up to sit on her hip. The little girl looked so pleased, I knew I shouldn’t be jealous, but I was.
Danielle Ford came through the door without an invitation, and I hurried over to stop the annoying alarm tone, pressing in the code. When she spotted me, her eyes narrowed, sweeping down to my bare feet. I was in my typical clothes. Shorts and tank, with a floaty peasant blouse pulled over it. Comfy and cute. My new favorite style.
Pulling my glasses from the top of my head, I put them on, then finger combed my bangs. Slouching for good measure, I forced a smile on my face and stuck out a hand. “You must be Danielle,” I said, sounding as American as possible.
During our time away, I’d let down my guard. I’d forget to wear the glasses or forget to keep my hair covering my face. On several occasions, I’d almost told a story from my childhood, barely managing to keep it to myself before blurting it out.
She ignored my hand. “Who are you?”
I rubbed my sweaty palm down my shorts. “I’m—”
She gave a tight, superior sounding laugh. “The nanny? Am I right?”
Kenzie shook her head, her arms around her mother’s neck, but all of Danielle’s attention was focused on me. “No, she’s Daddy’s girlfriend. They kiss and everything.”
I bit back a gasp. We’d never defined our relationship to the children, or even each other, and I always snuck back to the guestroom early each morning. In front of the kids, Xander would kiss my cheek or forehead, but he hadn’t kissed me on the lips in front of them. Had he?
Danielle’s eyes narrowed into slits, and I lifted my chin. So, what if we had been caught kissing? Kissing was good. There was nothing in the world wrong with it.
“So, Daddy’s fu…” she cleared her throat, smirking at me, “kissing the nanny?”
I relaxed my hands, forcing myself to not show any reaction to her jibe. “Xander is not my employer.”
Lowering Kenzie to the floor, she didn’t even acknowledge Kylian, who had crept over to the living room sofa, quietly sitting down. She ran a tongue over her teeth, highlighting how very large her lips were. And when she crossed her arms under her breasts. Wow. Those things popped up over her top like overinflated balloons. She also towered over me. In at least five-inch stilettos, she was almost as tall as Xander.
She was actually everything I wasn’t as a woman. Blonde, curvy, bombshell beautiful, and dressed to stop every man who came within a mile of her flamboyant presence. Seeing her chipped away at my confidence.
What did Xander see in me after being married to her?
A mystery for sure.
“Where is my husband, by the way?”
I refrained from adding “ex,” and said instead, “He’s away for the moment. I’m happy to make him aware of your visit when he returns.”
Her eyes narrowed further. “And just who are you again?” She stepped closer, and I refused to be intimidated. Surely in those shoes, I could knock her off balance and outrun her in an instant.
“Her name is Maddie,” Kenzie offered. “Daddy calls her Madalyn, but I like Maddie best. D’accord?”
Danielle gazed down at her daughter. “Da-what?”
Kenzie giggled, and said it the way we’d practiced it. “D’accord. It means okay in France.”
Danielle pulled her lower lip into her mouth, and I worried that she might bite too hard, and it would explode. “Where did you learn that?”
“Maddie. She knows all kinds of stuff.”
An eyebrow lifted. Well, not exactly, but it acted as if it wanted to lift, and the woman’s eyes grew even colder. Xander’s ex-wife appeared to enjoy making the people around her feel small and worthless. She likely did it on a daily basis. She was well practiced.
“Your daughter is very bright, and picking up new languages quickly. In addition to French, she’s also learning Spanish and German, and a couple other languages.”
The beam grew beamier, nearly splitting the little girl’s face. “Salut! Hallo! Ciao! Ni hao! Ola!”
Danielle held up her hand. “That’s nice, honey. Where are you learning all that?” She gave me a haughty look. “Your iPad? Speaking of which, I’ve been attempting to FaceTime you and never get an answer.”
Feeling her mother’s displeasure, Kenzie took a small step back. “Daddy said we shouldn’t use them.”
The woman’s eyes slid to me. “Is this your idea?”
I linked my fingers together. “I believe this is a discussion best saved between you and your ex-husband.”
Her nostrils flared, and her glossy red lips pressed together. “I’ll be sure to do that.” She squinted. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”
Years of intense practice stopped me from reacting. “Actually, I am, ma’am.”
You’d have thought I punched her in the gut, and I couldn’t help but feel a little bit pleased. “You may call me Mrs. Ford.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Kylian twitch, and it lit a fire in me. “Are you sure? I don’t think I’d be boasting that surname just now.” It was out of my mouth before I could seal my lips shut. Moving slowly, I edged over until the boy was behind me. She still hadn’t acknowledged him in any way, so she might not have even noticed him in the room.
Kenzie backed up a step when her mother’s hands clenched into two tight fists. “I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself.”
“And I suggest you leave. And please call and schedule an appointment before you plan on visiting again.”
She took a step toward me, and I held my ground. “Listen, you… you…” She cleared her throat. “I do not need to schedule time with my children. Today or any day.”
She was wrong.
“I suggest you reread the papers giving Xander custody. They clearly state that you will only visit the children on scheduled, supervised visits.” With her this close, I could smell alcohol on her breath. “For obvious reasons. And had you shown a modicum of respect, or had you displayed a measure of attention to both your children, I would have been pleased to grant that visit today. But considering you displayed neither, and you’ve clearly been drinking, it’s time that you leave.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she scanned my face. “Why do you look familiar?”
My heart thudded one hard beat in response. “Perhaps it’s because I have an average face.”
She continued to study me. “You’re the woman from the park, aren’t you? The one who ran after my daughter when your boyfriend…” she spit out the word, “almost allowed her to be kidnapped.” She gave a hard shudder, which was obviously fake. “Such negligence letting a child that young play on the slides by herself.”
Kenzie scratched at her ear. “But I play alone all—”
“That’s quite enough, darling,” Danielle interrupted, her gaze still on me. “The point is that Xander is more of a threat to my children’s safety than I or…” she peered around me, looking directly at Kylian for the first time, “anyone else.”
She made me sick. “I’m sure the judge will make that determination.” I waved toward the door, not leaving my station in front of Kylian. “Please leave.”
“Or what?”
Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have my guards with me right at that moment. With a single lift of my finger, Mrs. Big Lips would have been out that door and on her voluptuous behind.
“Or I shall call the guards.” I corrected myself quickly. “The police.”
She gave a dramatic sigh. “Look, that’s not necessary. I simply came here to see my children. I miss them, surely you understand that.”
A mother’s love.
I hardened my heart, feeling the manipulations in her words. “Yes, I do understand. And I also understand that there are unusual and regretful circumstances at play here. I wish for everyone’s sake that it wasn’t true, but the court order is very clear. I think it best that you return when Xander is home.”
She studied me, and I felt her taking my measure. It took everything in me not to cross my arms over my chest in self-protection.
“I would like to speak to Kylian for a moment.”
Ah… the true purpose of the visit. I turned to the boy and he, very slowly, shook his head.
“I’m sorry, that’s not possible at the moment.”
Her jaw tightened, and she stepped to the side. “Kylian, come talk to me, sweetheart. We have a few things that need to be straightened up.”
He was still shaking his head.
Danielle’s nostrils flared but her teeth bared in a tight smile. “Listen, darling. I need you to take back all those terrible things you said about Jet. You won’t be in trouble for lying.”
I stepped in front of her, holding out my hands. “You need to go.”
Kenzie started crying, and I laid a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you and Kylian go check on the puppies?”
The little girl looked up at her mother. “Mommy…”
But Danielle wasn’t looking at her or at me. She had one focus. Her son. “You can speak to the detective over the phone,” she was saying. “He won’t be mad. All you have to say is that you made everything up. Or maybe it only happened in a dream.”
Kylian stood up and shouted, “No!”
Danielle’s face turned red, and I pushed Kenzie behind me. “Go to the puppies,” I urged her, but her feet were frozen, her finger in her mouth as tears stained her cheeks.
“Everyone is going to make fun of you for lying,” Danielle shouted, and with all my strength, I pushed her.
“Get out.”
She tottered on the heels but she didn’t lose her focus. “You don’t want that stigma to follow you through life, do you?”
I reached for the phone, and she reached into her purse. For a horrible moment, I thought she had a gun. I felt ridiculously lightheaded when she only pulled out a pink cased cell phone.
“I’m calling the police if you don’t leave,” I threatened, holding the phone up for her to see how serious I was. “Are you even supposed to leave California? I would imagine your troubles would deepen if you left Los Angeles without permission.”
That got her attention. She glared at me but took one last shot at her son. “Kylian, sweetie. I’m only thinking of you. I don’t want you to have to testify in front of the judge and tell all the world what you think Jet did to you. Won’t that be embarrassing? Won’t you hate having your friends call you names? Won’t—” I started pushing buttons, and she held up her hand. She glanced at her own phone. “Okay, I’m leaving.”
I’d already dialed one-one, and my finger was hovering over the two. It was only then that I realized 1-1-2 was wrong here in America. I tried to remember the numbers for here.
To my relief, it looked as if I wouldn’t need it. The hateful woman turned on her heel and strode to the door, opened it, and looked back at me one last time.
Her eyes scanned me again. “Woman to woman, Maddie. Your roots are starting to show. You might want to touch them up.”
The hair raised on the back of my neck, but I only lifted my chin. “Thank you for your fashion advice.” I scanned her in return. “Should I wish to resemble a blowup doll, I’ll take you up on it.”
If pure rage could have lit someone on fire, I would have been burning were I stood.
The door slammed shut behind her, and I nearly sagged in relief, then Kenzie asked, “What’s a blowup doll?”
I groaned, ignoring the question and running forward to lock the door, this time putting on the chain that was too high for the little girl to reach. By the time I had it secured, the veranda doors on the back of the house stood open, and Kylian was gone.
“Kenzie, please stay here and take care of the puppies.”
Her cheeks were still tearstained, but she had stopped crying. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to talk to Kylian for a little bit.”
She nodded solemnly. “I hope he stops being sad.”
I bent down and kissed the top of her head. “Me too, sweetheart. Me too.”
She ran off to the sunroom, and I grabbed the house keys and rushed outside, pulling and locking the door behind me. I didn’t have to go far, I spotted him running toward the water.
I gave chase, the sand warm on my bare feet. When he was knee-deep in the water, he stopped and just stood there, staring out into the blueness of ocean and sky. I slowed and took a deep breath before moving to stand next to him.
“That was rough,” I said simply.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets, just like his father. “Yeah.”
We stood that way as several sets of waves washed up and receded. “I’m sorry, Kylian. For everything that happened, and I think you were and are very brave for telling your story. The man who hurt you needs to be punished, and he needs to never be around children ever again.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw his head turn to look at me. “But I think Mom is right. My friends are going to treat me different.” He hung his head. “Call me bad names.”
Although I’d never gone through an experience like this little boy had survived, I’d had my fair share of vulnerable moments when the press or social media weren’t kind.
When I was sixteen, I’d been dressed in a tight, bright peacock-blue gown that bared my shoulders and arms. Later, I learned I’d been dressed so provocatively because a certain ginger-haired prince would be present, and I was to be tempting to him.
I didn’t know it at the time, though, and had felt uncomfortably exposed. When I’d been allowed to view the social media pages after the event, I’d been horrified to see most of my very limited cleavage bared when I’d leaned over to get out of a car.
The comments had been horrible. Will the ugly duckling princess ever turn into a beautiful swan like her sisters? What is she trying to show… nothing? One creative Twitter user had put my photograph next to that of Cinderella’s stepsister. Princess Birgitta has a doppelganger.
More was said. Worse things were said.
It had been my mother who had comforted me after being alerted that I’d been crying for several hours. Her visit had been a surprise, and she’d sat beside me, letting me lay my head on her lap.
“Sixteen is such a wonderful and horrible age,” she told me, stroking my hair. “It’s when you begin to become intimately acquainted with self-doubt, at a time when it seems there’s so much at stake.”
“But Mama,” I’d cried, “if sticks and stones break bones but words don’t hurt you, why does it hurt so much?”
She wrapped my long strands around her finger. “Because that saying is a lie. The same part of your brain that activates when you are physically hurt is activated when you are emotionally hurt as well. So words do hurt, they just don’t leave a bruise.”
I’d turned, looking up at her. “Will it always be like that?”
She smiled down at me. “That depends on you, my darling. Many people are what they call triggered by words or things they see or hear. They run from those triggers, try to hide from them. It’s the worst thing you can do”
“What do you mean?”
She sighed and curled another strand of hair around her finger. “I was assaulted by a guard once.” I gasped but she ignored me, going on. “After that experience, I was afraid of guards. Afraid of men, truth be told. I stopped watching movies that contained violence, I stopped reading books that contained it too. I pretended it didn’t exist… and you know what happened?”
“What?”
“My fear grew. It was my grandmother who noticed, and she told me to read and watch everything I could. To not hide my trigger, but to expose it and let it be pressed so many times it breaks off on its own. It’s like everything in life, dear one. You develop an immunity by being exposed to germs. You learn patience by having your patience tried over and over. And you stop being triggered by building up a tolerance, not by avoiding what hurts you.”
“So, when people say bad things about me…?”
She smiled. “You think of those words as rocks, and you catch them, you collect them. You use them to build your home.”
Another wave came in, this one bigger, coming up to my thighs. It knocked Kylian back a couple steps, and I reached for him, wrapped my arm around his narrow shoulders.
I looked back at the house, afraid of leaving Kenzie there alone, but unwilling to leave this boy either.
Giving him a squeeze, I said, “Let’s go back to the house.”
He frowned. “Why?”
An idea occurred to me, and I grinned. “Because I’ve got some rocks I want to throw at you.”
The expression on his face was priceless.