Fifteen
“Where?” Colin said in a harsh whisper.
“I don’t care.” Rowena jumped out of bed and yanked her robe on, frantically trying to recall if they had left anything incriminating lying around the living room. “In the bathroom, under the bed. Anywhere.”
On her way out she closed the bedroom door. She couldn’t imagine what reason her father might have for looking in her room, but she wasn’t taking any chances.
He was sitting on the sofa with Dylan in his lap, who was talking animatedly about something.
“Good morning,” she said, forcing a yawn. “I thought I heard the door.”
“Dylan was just showing me his boo-boo. It seems to be healing well. Good thing Colin was around to help.”
“It sure was, wasn’t it?” she told Dylan with a smile. Then it froze like plastic on her face as her heart began to pound. Oh, no. What if Dylan told his papa other things about Colin, like seeing him in Mommy’s bed this morning?
She’d barely completed the thought when Dylan said, “Cowin be my daddy.”
“Your daddy?” her father said, shooting her a look.
“Dylan,” she said, hoping she sounded calm and rational, and not as if she were about to have a coronary. “Remember what we talked about? Just because Colin fixed your boo-boo doesn’t mean he’s going to be your daddy.”
“He sweep over!”
Damn, damn, damn. She had to think quickly. “Yes, sweetie, he’s been sleeping over at Papa’s house. They’re working together, remember?” Before Dylan could respond, she said, “Why don’t you go brush your teeth and make your bed? Then Mommy will give you your bath.”
“’Kay, Mommy.” He gave his papa a kiss on the cheek and toddled off to his room.
“I see that we slept in this morning,” her father said with enough bite in his tone to make it clear that he disapproved.
“It’s only seven-thirty.”
“You don’t think Dylan is a little young to be roaming around unsupervised?”
“Roaming around? You make him sound like a sheep.”
“You know what I mean. What if he were to hurt himself?”
She was so sick of having to explain herself, as if he had ever been an attentive parent. “He woke up five minutes ago, and I was putting my robe on when you knocked.”
“I’d like us to meet this week and discuss the menu for the day-care center.”
“Discuss what?”
“Your snack choices.”
“Is there something wrong with them?”
“They could be healthier. More whole grains, no processed sugar, skim milk.”
And how about something the kids would actually like to eat?
“The last thing I need in an election year is some uptight, sign-wielding parent advocacy group targeting us for giving the kids a deficient diet.”
“I’ve talked to you before about going organic, but you said it was too expensive.”
“Then you’ll just have to tighten the budget in other areas.”
And wouldn’t that be fun? Well, he wouldn’t be her problem much longer.
“I’ll have Margaret call you to set up a meeting.”
“Okay.”
After a few more random insults targeted mostly at her housekeeping and parenting skills—for example, if she didn’t teach Dylan to pick up his toys now, he would never learn and become a spoiled brat, as she had been—he left. Why did their conversations always leave her feeling exhausted and emotionally stripped bare?
“Wow.”
She turned to see Colin walking out of the bedroom wearing only the slacks he’d had on last night. “Wow what?”
“Does he always speak to you like that? In such a condescending tone?”
“It’s slightly different than how he speaks to me in public, huh?”
“He addresses you like you’re a child. How can you not tell him to bugger off?”
“Like I told you, he owns me.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t slavery abolished during the Lincoln administration? Eighteen sixty-four, I believe.”
“Eighteen sixty-five. But he’s a senator. The rules don’t apply to him.”
“There’s something I want you to do,” Colin said. “Something I think you need to do.”
“What?”
He told her and she couldn’t help laughing. “Why on earth would I do that?”
“Because everyone needs to rebel occasionally. And because it could be fun.” With a grin he added, “And because the senator pissed me off, and I’d like to see him squirm.”
“You don’t think it would be a little immature of us?”