Steve is the first one to break the silence. “Upstairs,” he mutters, pouring himself some more wine. “First door on the left.”
“Thank you,” Beth squeaks, turning and running out of the room. I listen to her footsteps disappearing. Her words echo in my head, over and over and over again.
“Well…” My mother says, pressing her napkin to her lips. “I think you need some lessons in finding good help.”
I don’t say anything. My heart is pounding in my chest. I turn slowly to Steve, watching him eat.
I used to hate this man with every molecule of my being. For screwing up my family. For turning my mother against me. I hated him so much, I’ve barely ever even spoken to him. Whenever I was home from camp, we would just ignore each other.
I should have talked to him, I realise.
One thing about my step-dad; he doesn’t lie. He’s the bluntest man I’ve ever met. All he really gives a shit about is work and stocks. He can’t be assed with trying to get along with people. If you ask him a question, he either ignores it, or answers it straight-up.
“Is it true?” I ask. “Were you just trying to get me out of the way?”
He puts down his wine glass. “Before I married Ellen, I told her I wanted a wife, not a problem child. I didn’t want you around the house. I wasn’t coming home from work every day to some angsty teenager moping around, hating my guts.”
I nod slowly. “Thanks.”
He shrugs, taking another bite of chicken. Mum’s mouth falls open. “Steven! Don’t say that!”
He rolls his eyes. “He’s a man, now, Ellen. He can see the truth for himself. There’s no point lying to him. Stop defending yourself for something you did twenty years ago and move on.”
“But—”
“He’s right,” I tell her. “If you wanted to stand up for me, you should’ve done it when I was a kid.” I glance over at Steve. “So, what? The therapy, the military camp—it was just to get me out of your way? Couldn’t you just send me to boarding school, or something?”
He takes another bite of potato. “Her idea,” he mutters. “I told her that if you ever hit me again, I’d leave her. She thought the boot camp would work.”
“Steven!” My mum hisses. “What the Hell are you saying?” She whirls on me. “I always did my best for you, Sebastian.”
“You picked your boyfriend over me,” I point out. “If that was your best, it was pretty crap.” I look down at Cami. She’s nodding off in her high chair. I stroke back some hair that’s stuck to her damp cheek, and she clutches my finger, not opening her eyes.
“You want a nap?” I ask her, standing and carefully lifting her out of the high chair. She flops over my shoulder, breathing tiny breaths against my neck as I carry her into the lounge. Beth packed a foldable cot, so I set her down in her car seat while I pull it out of my bag. As I erect it, a memory sparks in the back of my head. I remember a conversation I had with a drill sergeant back in my first year at the boot camp. He’d called me to his office after dinner and sat me down opposite him. I sit back on my haunches, frowning as the memory blooms.
“Why the fuck are you here, Bright?” Sergeant Carson barks, glaring at me from across the desk.
I just stare at him. “You asked me here, sir.”
He huffs impatiently. “Not in my office. Why. The. Fuck. Are. You. Here?” He repeats. I don’t know what to say, so I keep my mouth shut. He sighs. “This is a behavioural correction facility. Ever since the day you got here, you’ve been holding open doors, saying please and thank you, and smiling at the canteen lady. We’ve had kids stay here for years, and most of them don’t come out as polite and well-behaved as you were on your first damn day. So I want to know, why the hell did your mum and dad send you here?”
I scuff my boot against the floor. “I’m violent,” I mutter.
“You’re twelve. What did you do, rugby tackle someone too hard?”
“I punched my mum’s boyfriend. Knocked out one of his teeth.”
His eyebrows raise. “A weedy thing like you? What, was he a fuckin’ geriatric?”
“No, sir.”
“He deserve it?”
“No, sir.”
He sighs heavily. “I want to sign you off. There’s nothing we can do for you here. Your parents may as well save their money.”
My eyes widen. “No. Please, don’t.” Mum’s told me a thousand times that I’m lucky to be here. She says that Steve wanted to call the police when I hit him, but she convinced him that I could be sent away to a boot camp instead. God knows what will happen to me if I get sent home.
Sergeant Carson’s eyes are hard as granite. “You seriously prefer military camp to your own home? With two-minute cold showers and four hours of chores a day? No video games, no TV, no girls? You prefer it like this?”
I nod. There’s no question. I don’t want to go back home. They don’t want me there. Not my mum, or my dad. Not even Steve. There’s nothing for me back home.
For a second, sadness flashes over his face. He nods, standing. “Fine. Then you don’t go back. Back in line.”
There’s a footstep behind me, and I blink out of my trance.
“I washed your old crib blankets,” my mum says quietly. “You always liked them more than a mattress pad.” She offers me a folded pile of linen. I consider for a moment, then take them.
“Thanks.”
She sits on the sofa and watches as I carefully make up the cot, then settle Cami down in the new sheets, stroking a bit of drool off her tiny cheek.
“Sebastian,” she starts, hesitantly, “about what Steven said.”
“I don’t care,” I say. “I really don’t care, Mum.”
It’s the truth. I’m not even mad anymore. “I don’t care about how you treated me. I don’t care if you were right, or wrong, or if you had your reasons, or if you’re sorry. It doesn’t matter. All I care about is Cami, now.”
She scoffs. “Oh, please. You just found out that the girl exists.”
“And she’s everything,” I interrupt her. “Everything.” I stare at Cami’s sleeping face. Emotion rushes over me, squeezing my throat. “None of this was her fault,” I say quietly. “Say what you want about me. Say what you want about her mother. But Cami is a child. My child. Nothing that has happened to her is her fault. And I love her. I want her to have—everything.”
She’s silent for a long time. “Why did you bring her here today, Sebastian?” She asks eventually. “You’ve not wanted anything to do with me since your father left. So why are you here now?”
I frown. “That’s not true.”
“It is.” I look up at her. Her grey eyes are faraway. “He was always your favourite. You hated me, after he left. You blamed me for the divorce. And when I tried to find someone new, to rebuild the family again—you hated me even more. I could never do anything right.”
“I didn’t hate you.”
“You used to beg me to track your father down so he could have custody over you.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Do you have any idea how that felt? My husband didn’t want me. My kid didn’t want me. Steven was the only one who gave a shit if I was dead or alive. What was I meant to do?”
I swallow the urge to sigh. “I brought Cami here because she deserves a family. She’s not in contact with any relatives on her mother’s side. She doesn’t have any aunts, or uncles, or cousins. I want her to have a grandmother.” My tone hardens. “But if I catch you lying to her, or manipulating her, or gaslighting her into thinking that she’s something that she isn’t—you’ll never see her again. Never. You won’t get a second chance on this. Do not treat her like you treated me.” I stand. “I’m going to check on Beth. Do you want to watch her?”
“I…” She looks down at Cami. She’s sleeping like a little angel, her plump cheeks pink. “Yes. Okay.”
“Okay.” I give Cami’s hair one last stroke, then go to find my nanny.
