“It isn’t your business, is it?” Simon asked with a snide smile. He carried his bag toward the door. “Pack up, Tilly. Now. I’m not saying it again. I’m putting my stuff in the car.”
“Not saying it again?” Melanie raised her eyebrows and turned to face her stepdaughter.
The front door banged shut after Simon, and Tilly took another bite.
“He’s always been like this to you,” Melanie said, not waiting for Tilly to answer and taking advantage of his momentary absence. “You’re pregnant, and he’s going to shame you for eating? He’s going to boss you around? He isn’t good for you, Tilly. You have a baby to worry about now, and stress and fighting isn’t good for you.”
“Then stop stressing me out,” Tilly said bluntly.
Melanie shut her eyes for a moment, trying to find her calm. “Please, don’t go.”
“He’s my boyfriend,” Tilly said. “We’ve got plans.”
“It doesn’t sound like you do,” Melanie countered. “Where will you be staying? What do I tell your dad?”
“Tell him to call me,” Tilly said, lifting her phone. “I don’t get why you’re all upset. You didn’t want me here to begin with, and now I’m going.”
“You need someone to take care of you,” Melanie said, and in that moment, she saw Tilly as she’d been years ago—a frail little blonde girl with big blue eyes who would cry softly at night, remembering her mommy. Then there was the five-year-old with the impish grin, the ten-year-old with so much attitude, but who still liked going clothes shopping with her stepmother... Tilly—the little girl who’d stolen her heart.
The front door opened and Simon came back in. He left the door open partway and slouched toward the kitchen.
“Are you packed?”
Tilly heaved a sigh, put down her bowl and headed out of the room without answering. Melanie turned to Simon, and the boy eyed her from under that shaggy hair.
“Her father is going to be here in a few days,” Melanie said. “And you know Mr. Isaacs. If you do anything to hurt his daughter or that baby—”
“Hurt her?” Simon winced. “I’m not going to hurt her! What is with you people?”
“What about you not wanting her to eat?” Melanie said.
“Whatever—I made a comment. Who cares? She’s going to eat, okay? I just don’t want her getting all fat like being pregnant is some excuse.”
“Being pregnant is an excellent excuse!” Melanie snapped. “And her body and the weight she carries is none of your business!”
“Kind of is,” Simon said, and he raised his voice. “Tilly, hurry up!”
Melanie pulled a hand through her hair. She wasn’t going to be able to stop Tilly from leaving, so she needed to change tack here.
“Simon,” she said, softening her tone. “Tilly needs support right now. So if you two are going to leave together, then you need to be the one taking care of her. She’s nauseated from the pregnancy, she needs rest and she needs to eat. She should probably see her family doctor soon. And she really doesn’t need any added stress right now.”
“Yeah, well you didn’t come home last night. I would know. I was here,” Simon said with a short laugh. “So I don’t see where all this worry is coming from. She’s fine.”
What worried her was Simon’s relentless verbal badgering and emotional abuse. She’d seen it for years and tried to talk Tilly out of it for just as long. But it wasn’t just Tilly anymore—she was more vulnerable now that she was pregnant. And Simon had gone from being the jerk her stepdaughter dated to the guy who could very well stand between her and any help she might need.
Tilly emerged from the hallway with one large bag over her shoulder, and another one balanced on top of her rolling suitcase.
“If you need me, you call, Tilly,” Melanie said. “There’s no shame in coming home, okay?”
“Shame?” Simon barked out a laugh. “This from the woman who did the walk of shame this morning! We aren’t ashamed of ourselves, Melanie!”
It wasn’t exactly what Melanie had said, but obviously Simon’s mind was moving in other directions. And maybe he was worried about what his own parents would say.
“You take care of her,” Melanie said firmly. “I’m warning you.”
“Or what?” Simon rolled his eyes, and she sensed the dare in his gaze. He was feeling powerful right now—making adults beg. He was the father of Tilly’s child, and he seemed to have some sway over her. No, he was not going to be kind and supportive. He was going to play with his newfound power.
“I’ll call your mother,” Melanie said curtly. It sounded stupid the minute it came out of her mouth, but two years ago that would have given the kid some pause.
“Then you have no idea how my mother has been talking about you,” Simon laughed, taking the two bigger bags from Tilly and carrying them toward the open door. “Come on, Tilly. Let’s go.”
“Tilly—” Melanie put her hand on the girl’s arm “—I’ll come get you if you call. Okay?”
Tilly pulled her arm free. “I don’t need you to come get me. I’m fine, Melanie. Jeez. You aren’t my mother!”
“Maybe you need one!” Melanie shot back. “Maybe you need someone who actually cares, because Simon doesn’t!”
“Enjoy the lake house,” Tilly said, turning her back.
Simon pulled her big suitcase, and struggled with the bag that kept falling off the top of it. He muttered to himself as he fought with them out the door, Tilly on his heels.
“And she has a father, Simon!” Melanie called after them. “You’ll have to face her dad, personally!”
Simon’s expression turned a little less certain, but it didn’t slow him down. She went to the doorway, watching them haul the luggage down the stairs. He opened the trunk and manhandled the luggage inside, then slammed it shut. Tilly tossed her bag into the back seat of Simon’s car, then got into the front. Apparently, she was leaving
