The Perfect Child(51)

Lillian handed her one of the balloons she’d just blown up. “Here, take this and play with it outside. You can throw it up and play catch.”

Janie snatched it from her. She glared at her, then promptly squeezed her hands together and popped the balloon, making us all jump.

“Janie, that wasn’t nice,” Hannah said.

“You’re not nice,” Janie fired back.

We were one step away from a battle. I quickly scooped Janie up and threw her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I tickled her legs while we walked and brought her outside. Sometimes it worked and diverted one of her meltdowns, but her face was still set in stone when we reached the yard.

Her behavior didn’t get any better as the day wore on. Janie scowled at people as they filed into the house and greeted Hannah. She barely spoke to my mom when she arrived and refused to respond when people spoke to her. She popped any balloon she could get her hands on, continually startling people. Everyone tried to laugh it off, but it didn’t take long for it to become annoying. At first, we ignored her like we did with so much of her attention-seeking behavior, but we had to step in when she went over to the cake. It was a three-layer tower made of cupcakes and almost as elaborate as our wedding cake. It probably cost as much.

“Janie, no!” I yelled when I spotted her reaching for one of the cupcakes.

She pretended like she hadn’t heard me. Everyone stared as she grabbed a cupcake from the center and pulled it out. I held my breath, waiting for the cake to tumble. Thankfully, it didn’t.

“Stop it!” Hannah said. “If you’re not going to behave during the party, then you can go to your room.” She pointed down the hallway that led to Janie’s bedroom.

I looked at Hannah in surprise. We’d never sent Janie to her room before. It was such a normal way to discipline a child, but what would Janie do in there by herself? It’d been a while since she’d had a full-on meltdown, and I really wanted to avoid it, especially when our house was full of people.

Janie bit into the cupcake, and her mouth filled with yellow frosting. She grinned at Hannah, the yellow staining her teeth. “You’re going to be a bad mommy.”

Hannah recoiled like Janie had punched her in the gut. She brought both hands up to her face and covered her mouth. Everyone in the kitchen started talking at once to break the tension and pretend like they hadn’t heard what Janie had said.

I grabbed Janie’s arm and dragged her through the living room. She started screaming as we moved through people. “You’re hurting me, Daddy! You’re hurting me!”

I just kept going, my face red with embarrassment and anger. I shoved her in the room and slammed the door behind us.

“Don’t you ever say anything like that to Mommy again!” I was fuming. I’d never been so mad at her.

She threw herself down on the floor, sobbing.

“Stop it, Janie. Just stop,” I hissed. Everyone at the party could hear her, which only made her cries seem louder.

She beat her fists against the floor. Her wails came one on top of another; she wasn’t even pausing long enough to breathe. Usually my heart ached for her when she was upset, but I was too angry over what she’d said to Hannah to help. I hurt for Hannah. This day meant so much to her, and Janie had ruined it.

Janie’s cries shifted from angry rage to sobs of devastation. “I’m a bad girl. I’m a bad, bad, bad girl!” she cried.

Her self-deprecation tugged at my heartstrings, and my anger started dissipating. This had to be hard for her. She didn’t understand that the baby wouldn’t take us away from her and that there was enough of our love to go around. She was just hurting. More of my anger drained. She was still curled on the floor, shaking.

I plopped down next to her and reached for her, but she jerked away. She curled into a ball. “You’re not a bad girl. You just made a bad choice. That’s all. Just a bad choice.” I rubbed her back until the sobs subsided. “Everyone makes bad choices sometimes. It’s going to be okay.”





THIRTY-ONE

HANNAH BAUER

My stomach churned as we walked into Janie’s school for our meeting with Mrs. Tinney to discuss Janie’s behavior. She’d been acting out since the shower three weeks ago. My due date was two weeks away. What would I do if Janie got kicked out of another preschool?

Mrs. Tinney’s classroom looked like the classrooms I’d grown up in. There was a huge carpet in the center of the room for the children to gather during circle time. Cubbies lined the back wall with the children’s names neatly labeled on each one. Stations were set up around the room for various activities, and the walls proudly displayed the kids’ artwork.

I was too big to squeeze into any of the miniature chairs, so I stood while Christopher and Mrs. Tinney sat. It made the situation more awkward and uncomfortable than it already was.

“How are you feeling?” she asked before getting started.

“Ready to have this baby.” I smiled, trying to be polite, but I really wanted to know why we were there.

“Those last few weeks seem to drag on forever. Not to mention that all three of my kids were overdue,” she said.

“Ugh, let’s hope this one comes on time.” I rubbed my hand on my swollen bump instinctively, just like I did anytime someone mentioned the baby.