“I told you this was a bad idea, now look what you’ve done!” I fumed at Chris, as I flung away the paper in disgust, oblivious of the fact that we had company.
“Calm down honey, it’s no big deal,” Chris tried to soothe me.
“No big deal! No big deal!” I practically screamed, and then stood up, as though no longer able to contain my fury while seated, and continued my rant. “I’ve just been labelled a bad mother who doesn’t give a hoot about my son’s welfare, and you have the nerve to say it’s no big deal! What is wrong with you? Doesn’t anything move you anymore?”
“Sure it does, but this is one crappy article by a journalist who earns peanuts for a living, and at the end of the day, it is publicity. It doesn’t really matter what they’re writing, as long as they’re writing about us. It would be really bad if they hadn’t bothered to mention that we were even there, but not only did they say we were, they even gave us our very own piece, which, trust me, is a good thing.”
“Christ, I don’t even think I know you anymore if you can call this a ‘good thing’, but you know what? It might be a good thing for you who puts your fame before anything else, but I’m a mother before I’m some ‘celebrity’s partner’!” I yelled, as my voice caught on a sob, and I fled from the room before our guest could witness me break down in tears.
I expected Chris to follow and comfort me, but he did not and my mood was only dampened further when I heard him and Andrew laughing over my outburst with the usual, “Women! You can never understand them.”
My phone soon diverted my attention when it began ringing. When I realized that the caller was my elder sister, and guessed that she was calling over the article, I quickly silenced the ringer so as not to wake C.G, and then pushed it away, not feeling up to dealing with her call in my highly strung state.
Unfortunately, not willing to be put off by me not answering her call, she soon followed it up with a message that simply read “Really disappointed in you.”
This only served to set me off into a fresh bout of tears, and I was still slumped on the bedroom floor crying my eyes out, when my phone rung once again, and this time, the caller ID revealed that it was none other than my father on the other side of the line.
Unlike with my sister, I did not feel I could brush off his call by silencing my phone’s ringer, and so I quickly tried to pull myself together, aided in this attempt by the shock factor of seeing “dad” pop up on my screen for the first time in years, before receiving his call with a sombre “hello Papa”.
“Stephanie, I want you to listen to me, and I want you to listen carefully. You have made it clear to me that what you choose to do with your life is no one’s business but your own, but let me make it perfectly clear right now, that what you do with my grandson’s life is another matter altogether.
I will not have you dragging him along for your drinking sprees with that useless fellow, and I will certainly not tolerate having my name brought into disrepute because of my unfortunate relationship with you. If you feel like you are not yet ready to be a responsible mother to that boy, then bring him home to me. Do I make myself clear?” he demanded angrily.
Too stunned by his outburst to offer any form of a credible defence, I simply whispered, “Yes, papa,” before he hung up and the line went dead. For a few minutes, I was too shocked to move, and simply stared vacantly at the phone, until the sound of C.G waking up jolted me back to the present.
Scrambling to my feet, I stumbled over to his crib, and retrieved him, immediately holding him close in a tight embrace as I was overcome by a flood of emotion that could not even begin to reflect just how much I loved this little being, or how scared I was by the thought that one casual night out, could lead to me losing him.
Source : The Observer