Chapter 4: Bruises in the Bathwater

Ever since I realized Ethan was scared of the nanny, I’d told Michael to fire her. With no nanny, it was up to me to cook, clean, and handle everything.

On my first day as a mom, wanting to make a good impression, I drove to pick Ethan up from school. My palms were sweaty on the steering wheel, and I kept rehearsing what I’d say. At the gate, I spotted him dragging his feet with his friends, not wanting to leave. They were singing and dancing around him—what was this, a flash mob? It wasn’t even his birthday.

I got impatient, so I got out and pulled him out of the crowd. “Hey guys, I need to get him home for dinner—he can’t play today.”

I buckled him into the back seat—then realized, with a groan, that I’d totally forgotten to buy a booster seat. Classic rookie move.

Daisy sniffed him all over, licking his hands and nudging his chin, like she was checking for contraband.

“What do you want for dinner?”

He didn’t answer, just stared out the window, clearly unimpressed with his new stepmom.

Right, he didn’t seem to like me much. Not yet, anyway.

I tried a different approach. “I fired the nanny.”

I watched him in the rearview mirror, waiting for a reaction.

He looked up, surprised, but instead of responding to that, he answered my earlier question.

“I want meatball soup, barbecue ribs, sweet and sour chicken…”

I broke out in a cold sweat. Who did he think I was, Gordon Ramsay?

I’d definitely overestimated myself. In the end, I just took him out to eat. (Thank you, local Chinese takeout.)

After dinner, I fed Daisy her dog food. Ethan quietly washed his hands and went to his room to read, leaving me to wonder: How is this kid ‘abnormal’? He seemed perfectly normal to me.

I was happy to have some peace, so I opened my laptop and started writing. Maybe this would all work out after all.

At nine, Ethan was still playing sudoku, with no intention of going to bed. I finally took his stuff away and told him to shower.

He clung to the bathroom door, yelling, “I can do it myself! I can wash myself!”

I pried his stubborn hands off, rolling my eyes. “You really think you can get clean on your own? You already smell, kid.”

He let go, cheeks puffed out like an angry little dolphin. “That’s not true! I take a bath every day!”

In the end, I dragged him into the bathroom. His bathroom had a big tub with a low faucet so he could fill it himself. I stripped him, tossed his clothes in the tub, and scrubbed him like a carrot—top to bottom, no mercy.

When I got to his arm, he suddenly cried out in pain. At first, I thought he was just being dramatic, but when I looked up, I saw real tears in his eyes.

That’s when I noticed a big bruise on his right arm. My heart dropped. “How’d you get this?”

He wouldn’t say a word, just stared at the floor.

I gave him a light smack on the butt, pretending to be tough. “Ethan Avery, answer me!”

He burst out crying, sounding like a boiling kettle. “I was bad, so the nanny pinched me and said I was a kid nobody wanted.”

I froze, the words echoing in my head. Suddenly, his question—‘Is she like my nanny?’—wasn’t a challenge, but a desperate test.

He was really scared I’d hurt him, too.

I softened my voice, wrapped him in a towel, and lifted him out of the tub. “How long has she been hurting you? Why didn’t you tell your dad?”

I dressed him, feeling a mix of anger and exasperation. “You can talk plenty—how come you clam up around your dad?”

“I have to wait so long to see Daddy. By the time I see him, the bruises don’t hurt anymore.”

I pulled his pajama hood over his head, trying to keep things light. “Not hurting? Then who was that in the bathroom just now, yelling about how much it hurt?”

“If anyone ever bullies you again, you hit them right back, okay? I’ll back you up. I won’t tell your dad.”

I tucked him into bed and started rummaging through his closet. All his clothes were too small.

“No new clothes.”

Ethan peeked out, voice muffled. “The nanny took all the new clothes Dad bought me.”

Damn. That was low.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. At midnight, I was still tossing and turning, plotting revenge.

But before I could do anything, she came for me first.