And I added, Yes, and it’s my new life. No sharing ever again.
18
Kaylee
“I need a real nightgown,” I said, daring to say it in a more demanding voice now. If I whined, he would think I was just showing him how spoiled I was, something Haylee had apparently admitted she was. No, what I had to do was cleverly disguise my disgust for him and slide into his fantasy gracefully, to convince him that he had won my love. Despite how crazy he was, I felt this was my last chance.
I had tried to resist, I had tried to escape, but now he had to believe that I wanted a baby with him, a family with him, and a new life.
“New nightgown?”
“I don’t sleep well enough to get better faster. You need to get me something that fits me, something new. Something I like and feel comfortable wearing. I like . . .”
“I know what you like,” he said quickly, surely trying to convince me of how clever he was and how perfect he was for me. “You were wearing one, the same one, when we spoke on the Internet three different times.” He thought a moment, looked at his watch, and then nodded. “Okay. I’ll clean up the dinner dishes later. You rest until I return,” he said.
“Thank you.”
I rose slowly and started toward the bed, deliberately dragging my chained foot, exaggerating the effort until I caused myself to fall forward. He rushed to my side.
“I’m sorry!” I wailed. “My leg just gave up with the added weight.”
He studied me while he squatted beside me and then reached into his pocket, took out a key, and undid the ankle bracelet.
“Thank you, Anthony,” I said.
He helped me to my feet and held my arm as I walked back to the bed and lay down. He fixed the blanket around me and kissed me on the forehead. “Feels like you might have a little fever,” he said. “I’ll get a couple of aspirin.”
He went into the bathroom and returned with the aspirin and a glass of water. I took them and lay back again. He studied me a moment, his face full of concern. Milk it, I thought. Milk it and survive. “Thank you. I do have a little headache.”
“Okay. I’ll be back as soon as I can. While I’m shopping, I’ll get you some of those weight-gain bars to eat, too. Just rest.”
I nodded, and he rushed off. Mr. Moccasin leaped onto the bed and stood there looking at me as if he knew what I was up to. I reached for him, and he moved closer so that he could rub his head against my palm. Then he settled beside me. I did doze off. An hour or so later, Anthony returned with another bag and took out a nightgown exactly the same as one of Haylee’s and mine, pink with a frilly white collar and frilly sleeves.
“This is it, right?”
“Yes,” I said. Had she dictated everything, down to the exact clothing manufacturer, or did he have a very good memory, almost a photographic one?
He handed the nightgown to me, and I sat up. He pulled half a dozen chocolate weight-gain bars from his pockets.
“Nibble on these between meals,” he ordered. I nodded and gathered myself to my side. “I’d better get those dishes and pans cleaned up. Ma would have my hide for leaving a mess.”
He returned to the sink. I put on the nightgown and lay back. As he worked, he whistled. He looked happy now, content in the imaginary future world he was designing for us. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep when he finished and turned back to me. I kept my eyes closed when he put his hand on my forehead again. He stood there for quite a while watching me sleep, and then I heard him walk out of the basement apartment.
I had to keep him off balance, I thought. No more tantrums and no more threatening him. The more he believed that I was succumbing to his demands and desires, the better chance I would have to try another escape. I put the weight-gain bars on the table beside the bed.
He returned hours later. I heard him lie down beside me. I had turned onto my side so that my back was to him. He reached out, touched my shoulder as if to convince himself I wasn’t a figment of his imagination, and then fell asleep, snoring away. I tried not to move very much. I knew I needed to get stronger, so I slept as well as I could. I woke before he did and went to the bathroom. He had swept up the broken pieces of mirror. When I came out of the bathroom, he woke. He looked stunned for a moment when he saw me, almost as if he had forgotten everything, including who I was and why I was there. Then he smiled, sat up, rubbed his cheeks, and said, “Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
He got out of bed—naked, of course—and came over to give me a hug and a kiss. I was surprised myself at how oblivious I could be to his nudity. I, too, could see only what I wanted to see and not see what I didn’t want to see.
“I don’t think you have any more fever. I’ll whip up a good breakfast for you.”
He went to the bathroom and afterward began to make some eggs and bacon. Just like the night before, he whistled while he worked and then began to describe the things he was going to do. Today he would, as he had promised, bring down his crib and put it together. Assuring me that he had planned for this for a long time, he said he had a list of items any newborn baby would need. He was going to start shopping to set up the nursery in the corner of the basement apartment and work on the shelving. As he went on and on, I wondered if he had ever mentioned any of this to someone else.
“Do you have a best friend?” I asked him as he set the table for breakfast.
“I did, but we fell out. Never lend money to a friend,” he told me. “Ma warned me about that often, but I didn’t listen.”