Monica’s heartstrings were pulled back around when she heard that desperate voice from her child.No. Don’t make me force you away from your grandmother…Most of those heartstrings would break.
“What about my stuff?”
Although Abigail remained calm on the outside, Monica saw the confusion and fear in her blue eyes.Her father’s eyes…Monica had never known she had the recessive gene in her, since everyone in her family had brown eyes, including her. But there they were. Crystal blue and begging her mother to say anything but,“I’ll buy you replacements.”Because that’s what Monica wanted to say if only to get her daughteroutof this gilded cage.
Those were Abigail’s things. Right now, events had become increasingly chaotic in her young mind. If she hadherthings, she would probably get through this easier. If Monica recalled correctly, one of her daughter’s favorite stuffed animals had probably come with her.She can’t sleep without it.
“All right. Where are they?”
With their hands still together, Abigail led her mother down the hallway, shuffling past Isabella as she continued to block the space. Her gaze penetrated the cool shadows of the hallway as Abigail showed her mother the second bedroom where she had been sleeping. The AC continued to occasionally blast on the duvet-covered double bed. The TV on the wall was off – unplugged. Abigail opened the bottom drawer of a teak dresser and pulled out her neatly folded clothes. Monica resolutely stood between her and the door, where Isabella soon appeared like a specter haunting the soul-stained halls of the Beaumonts’ Thai guest house.
“You know deep down that she should stay here with me, Monica.”
She didn’t dare turn to face her mother-in-law as Abigail pulled her suitcase out of the closet and began filling it with her clothing. The way she knelt on the hardwood floor, tidily pressing her clothes against her lap before placing them in her bag hurt Monica in ways she could not yet process.She’s only seven…This was beyond manners and decorum instilled into alittle girl. Abigail was afraid of messing up.What have you done to her, Isabella?
“She won’t want for anything. You and Henry can tend to your own lives back in America while Abigail and I prepare for her future far away from noise and other distractions.” Isabella wasn’t going to let this go, was she? While she didn’t have it in her to physically attack Monica – nor would that besmart,considering the manpower Monica had brought with her – she would needle into her mind, pressing the most insecure spots that would appeal to Isabella.
But Monica wasnotIsabella. She was the exact opposite kind of Lady Warren.
“Abigail needs to be with her parents.”
“I can oversee her education. She will be fluent in three languages by the time she reaches puberty. Abby, dear, why don’t you show your mother what you learned in France?”
Abigail stopped halfway through pushing down her clothing into her suitcase. “Um…”
“Don’t ever say ‘um,’ darling. It makes you sound uneducated. Like the boys and girls your mom grew up with.”
Monica’s jaw was about to pop off her face from grinding her teeth so much.
“J’ai passé un moment merveilleux…”
While Monica wasn’t fluent in French, she knew enough from her times in the world of the wealthy to understandI’ve had a wonderful time.Yet when spoken by a careful girl who didn’t want to upset her grandmother, Monica knew that this was a show for her.
“Very nice, darling.” Monica cleared her throat, wanting to kneel beside her daughter and help her quickly pack. Yet she was more worried about stepping away from Isabella.As long as I stand here, I can protect Abigail.“You’ll have to show off somemore for me when we’re on the plane. It’s a long flight back home.”
“Monica.” Isabella had entered the room, her aura as frozen as the ice that shrouded her heart. “Abigail wasn’t happy back in America.Ican ensure her education, both in academics and in refinement. By the time she’s ready to make her grand debut in Europe, she’ll be the greatest envy that the continent has ever seen. Globalized. Sensationalized.”
“And why would I want that for her? Why would Henry?”
Did Monica have to invoke her husband every few words?He’s Abigail’s parent, too.The man adored his only child like he loved his wife. Their family unit was stronger with the three of them together. If Isabella wanted to be a core part of her granddaughter’s life, she knew how to do it.Be present. Invest in her hobbies and interests. Guide her.Not like this…
“Henry has a mind for business, yes, I would never fault him for that. It’s the one good thing he’s accomplished in his life.”
“Because marrying me is not one of them.”
“Oh, you have a mighty head for business yourself, Monica. I’m sure Abigail was getting a front-row seat of it, based on what I heard from that nanny of hers. You really should vet your people better. Here in Thailand and back in France, Abigail will have the best nannies. They double as tutors. That’s really the best for her before she is sent to boarding school in Switzerland. Or has Henry not mentioned Zurich to you, Monica?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, no. I’m sure anything you discussed with your son was on the docket for us to talk about, but certain things came up, now didn’t they?” Monica saw Abigail looking up at them and abruptly said, “Finish that up, Abby. We have to get going. Don’t forget anything you would be sad to miss.”
“The Beaumonts have been nothing but gracious to us.”
Monica closed the gap between her and Isabella.I want to slap this woman.Monica was so close to laying a hand on the evil that had threatened to upend her happiness more than once. And while she wished she could say it was on behalf ofeveryonewith the last name Warren, Monica was not even thinking of Eva, of Nadia, or even Henry.Henry can take care of himself.Abigail, though… she was so little. She didn’t understand that her grandmother didn’t have her true best interests at heart. She didn’tknowthat Isabella’s goal was to drive a permanent wedge between mother and daughter. She might not understand now, but… soon?
Abigail was growing up today. Maybe not in the way the world would see, but Monica sensed it. The way her daughter carefully tiptoed around the bed ten times the size of her and fished out a stuffed bunny her grandmother had given her last Easter tore Monica’s heart in two.
“It doesn’t have to be this way, Isabella. She loves you.” Monica appealed to whatever ancient narcissism crusted over this woman’s heart. “Abigaillovesyou. You could be a positive force in her life who looks out for her in ways the rest of us cannot. But this?Kidnappingher?”
She had lowered her voice in the hopes that Abigail wouldn’t hear her. Sure enough, her daughter clicked the suitcase shut and struggled to prop it up by herself. She placed her bunny on top and grabbed the sweater she had left on the bed.
