"No! I won't do this anymore Jo! It's becoming ridiculous, honestly. How do you expect me to stay here all day and take care of him?"
"Like any other mother would! Love him you, bitch! He's your son!" Jo stomped her foot, feeling the hardwood floor beneath her socked foot. She relished in the sharp pain that shot its way up her calf, stopping at her knee. Jo didn't flinch, lest Cyrene see her moment of weakness.
"It's so unfair to me!" Cyrene whined. "I can't take care of a baby and work late night shifts at the strip club! What am I supposed to do?" Cyrene slapped the palm of her hand down on the counter, causing Jo's school papers to flutter a few inches away. No one paid the white sheets any attention.
"Reen?" At the sound of the little voice, both ladies stopped their argument and turned to look at the toddler standing in the door way. His beautiful, sea green eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. Jo's heart immediately seized. Beside her, Cyrene stiffened.
"What is it Patrick?" she demanded harshly. Jo scowled at the woman but held her tongue, curious to watch this scene unfold.
"Up?" The little boy held up two chubby arms, reaching for the warmth and love only his mother could provide. Cyrene scrunched up her nose and shifted away from the child. The rejection was icy enough that it gave Jo shivers.
"Not now. I'm busy."
Furious, Jo stepped forward and softly coaxed Ricky to her arms instead. Ricky reluctantly crawled into Jo's arms. Jo felt her heart crack as she noticed the silent tears rolling down his chubby face.
"How could you do this to him? Look at him," Jo demanded. Cyrene avoided her gaze, choosing instead to observe her chipping red nail polish.
"Look at him!" Jo screamed. She was surprised to feel herself shaking uncontrollably. The rage inside her was growing with each cold rejection of Cyrene's. Cyrene sighed and turned her eyes on her child. She looked upon him with dis-contempt, regret.
"Look at what you've done to your child. He's crying because of you. This poor kid is crying because you won't even hold him,"Jo hissed. She stared down her step-mother, red-hot fury boiling her blood. "You're disgusting," she spat.
"He calls me Reen. He doesn't call me Mommy anymore," Cyrene observed. She didn't even care.
"Because you're no mother to him."
The silence grew, enveloping the trio in a dark, twisted hush. Jo broke the silence first.
"I'm going to solve all our problems. Right here, right now. I'm going to arrange for a babysitter every night that I work. That way, you can still work your job and I can work mine and Little Ricky will be taken care of."
"Great. Fantastic. Go for it," Cyrene mono-toned. She waved a manicured hand at Jo's proposal.
"You'll be paying for every cent that a babysitter costs. You will take care of your child. I don't care how indirectly you do it."
Cyrene rolled her eyes dramatically but acknowledged the request. "Fine, I'll pay for his nanny," she sneered. "Can I go to work now? Or is there anything else Your Highness needs?" she mocked.
Jo didn't answer that question. Instead, she turned on her heel and marched out of the room, Ricky still snuggled up in her arms.
"Leave some money for take-out. I'll need at least fifteen bucks," Jo called over her shoulder.
Jo didn't hear the response that came from the kitchen. She walked right into her bedroom and slammed the door shut, startling the dozing bundle in her arms. The toddler stirred and opened his sleepy eyes.
YOU ARE READING
The One Who Ran Away
Teen FictionThe best way to keep a secret is to pretend there isn't one. -Margaret Atwood Very few of us are what we seem. -Agatha Christie There are some secrets which do not permit themselves to be told. Men die nightly in their beds, wringing the hands of gh...