“Enough, Mother.”
“Charlotte,” she snapped.
The warning was clear. Even at my age, Zoe Axelson thought she was the boss of me. Actually, she thought she was the boss of everyone. That hadn’t gone well for her when I was with Holden. He’d never been outright rude to her, but he made it clear he wouldn’t put up with her shit, and part of that shit was the way she spoke to me. Needless to say, if she didn’t like Holden before he broke up with me, she despised him after. She said it was because he broke my heart, but that wasn’t the truth. She hated him because she’d thought there was a possibility he could be Faith’s father. Neither of the potential baby daddies—and yes, that was what she’d called Paul and Holden—were good enough to mingle with the Axelson family. But at least Paul had died a hero.
My gaze went back to my mother, and the rope I was barely holding onto slipped from my fingers and I was in a freefall. Not a single iota of compassion for me. Not an ounce of sympathy that I was lying in a hospital bed with a concussion while my baby was three hours away from me. No empathy that my child had been stolen from my home. Not a goddamn thing for me or my daughter. It was all about her and her hatred for Holden. And her contempt for me, how I, as a grown woman, got pregnant before I was married and how that made her look.
Fuck that.
“I think you should go home,” I told her.
“Really, Charlotte. And how would that look? Your father and I in Virginia while you’re in the hospital?”
“I don’t much care how it will look, Mother. And if you didn’t activate the country club phone tree and tell everyone I was in the hospital, no one would’ve known.”
“You’re our daughter, those are our friends. They’d be upset if they couldn’t support us in our time of need.”
Seriously?
I had no words. Absolutely none. My mother’s selfish need for attention knew no bounds.
“I want you to leave.”
“Charlotte—”
“Either you leave or I’m calling hospital security and I’ll ask them to escort you out. Think about how that’ll look.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” she sneered.
“What’s going on?” My father’s voice boomed in the small room and a wolfish smile tugged at my mother’s lips.
She wrongly thought since my father was back she’d have an ally, that together they could bully me into whatever Zoe wanted. And why wouldn’t she? My whole life I’d backed down, I’d chosen the path of least resistance, which meant I gave in because I didn’t want the hassle.
I’d trained my parents, particularly my mother, to treat me like shit. I’d taught her that if she pushed hard enough, I’d roll over like a dog.
Yep. I was a doormat that read: Please walk all over me, Zoe Axelson.
Not today.
“Edward, please talk some sense into your daughter. She’s being ridiculous.” My mother actually tilted her head back and sniffed.
Stuck her nose in the air like those of us beneath her stank.
God, really?
“What’s this, Charlotte, why are you being difficult?”
“Well, Father, since you asked, I’ll tell you. I’m being difficult because I made it clear I was done listening to Mother’s disparaging remarks about Holden.”
“That boy again. I thought we were long past mentioning his name. Your mother has a right to say what she will about the louse who left her daughter with child and ran off.”
When I hit my head I must’ve been transported back to the nineteen-forties when men used words like “louse” and “with child”. That was the only explanation for my father’s highbrow display. And make no mistake—that was what it was. All a show for the other people in the room. Edward Axelson had to believe he was the most cultured person in any given company and he didn’t care how he went about flexing his perceived superiority. While my dad needed to feel like wealth and class at all times, my mother had to feel like she was in charge of a room. It was her way or her way.
“My child was kidnapped,” I screamed and I immediately regretted it. Stabbing pain radiated from the back of my head around to the front, like ice picks were gouging out my eyes.
“Char—”
“Don’t talk to me. Get out.”
“That’s preposterous,” my father returned. “We will do no such thing.”
My eyes drifted closed, not because I couldn’t stand to look at my selfish parents any longer but because my head felt like it was going to explode. Pressure had built and the pain was becoming unbearable.
“Mr. and Mrs. Axelson, I’m going to have to ask you to leave, please.”
I didn’t need to open my eyes to know my doctor had come into my room. Thank God.
“That’s not going to happen,” Edward argued. “My daughter has sustained a head injury. She’s obviously experiencing an episode. I have medical power of attorney, you can’t ask me to leave her room.”
There was a moment of silence and I wondered if my doctor was contemplating all the ways to strangle my pompous father or if he was going to cave. I hoped she’d call security and have them thrown out. Maybe Kennedy could record it for me, so one day when my head didn’t feel like it was splitting in two I could watch it and laugh myself silly.
“Sir, I have every right to ask you to leave when you are upsetting my patient. Furthermore, the medical power of attorney no longer applies. Charlotte Towler is awake and cognizant. Now, if you’d please exit the room, I need to examine her.”
“I’m not leaving.”
