Page 43 of Mommy Calls Me Princess

“Thank you, Miss Kylee.” When they started talking again I laid back down to finish my picture. Mommy’s office needed more Princess art pieces in it.

“What are you huffing about over there, my little drama llama?” Mommy’s question surprised me.

“Sorry Mommy, I hadn’t realized I was.” I stared at the pages I’d colored, torn out, and set aside. “I made a bunch of pictures for your office, but I don’t know which one will go best in here.”

“Here’s an idea.” She came around the desk with a tape dispenser. “Why don’t you hang them all up.”

“Really?” That was a lot of pictures.

“Really, sweet girl. They’re all so pretty I can’t pick either.” She bopped my nose and went back to work, and I got busy hanging them up. “That’s a lovely little song you’re humming, sweet girl. What is it called?”

“I-I, I don’t know.” Did I? Was I even of sound mind today? Saved by my phone. I pulled the vibrating thing from my pocket, walked over to mommy’s desk and sat it down in front of her and walked away. She could deal with it.

Once glance at the screen and I swore I saw smoke come from her ears. “Darcy’s phone.” She answered it on a speakerphone. “How can I help you.”

“Who is this? Where’s my daughter?” Mom sounded angry. Nothing new, really.

“This is Vivienne, Darcy’s wife. How may I help you?” That shut her up. I had to cover my mouth to hide the giggles.

“Her what? My daughter’s not gay. Who the hell are you.”

“I am your daughter’s wife. What is it you need, Karen?” Ooohhh it was sexy when mommy got all dommie. Unless I was getting spanked, like last night. No special tickles really sucked.

“I want to talk to my daughter.”

“I’m right here, Mom. What do you want?”

“Who is this woman saying she’s your wife.”

“She’s my wife. We’re married. What do you want?” This woman really had a way of ruining a good mood. How had I not realized how toxic she really was before?

“You need to come home right now, Darcy Marie. Or-or I’ll call the cops.”

“One, I’m twenty-two years old. Two, I’m married and no longer live with you. We haven’t seen each other in almost two years and the only time we talk is when you want money. Now, I’ll ask you again, what do you want?” I really shouldn’t have said anything. I should’ve let Mommy handle it just like we’d decided. Stupid, stupid, mouth.

“Wait, when did. What did?” she stuttered. Something was off but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

“Do I have anything at your place that I need to pick up?” Shift gears and end this nightmare.

“No. I um, I moved.”

“Wait, so if for some reason I was coming home you’re telling me I’d have no home to come home to without knowing it? Who does that?” I was so pissed I was shaking.

“Karen, what is it you’re calling for.” Thankfully Mommy took over. I was on the verge ofnothappy tears.

“I-I, I need money. I can come to your place just give me the address.”

Mommy shook her head no.

“This is the last time. Text us an address to meet you at.” She started thanking us, but I hung up. I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Baby,” Mommy pulled me onto her lap. “I’ve never met nor talked to your mother before and yet that entire conversation sounded off to me.”

“Agreed.”

“I don’t want to pull rank because this isn’t a matter of cleaning up your toys, but this will be the last time you or I give her any money.”

“Agreed.”

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