Page 106 of Bonus Daddy
“Yeah. And it’s hilarious. Greta needed suggestions, so I helped.” Her flippant attitude made me want to shake her. “She’s right. The guy is obsessed with you. For a while, we didn’t like it, but we get it now. Brian’s cool.”
“I made them,” Greta admitted. “It was Kit’s idea to make normal ones too, so he wouldn’t get suspicious.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to wrap my mind around her confession. When Brian and I had agreed to give this a try, I’d sat down with the girls and asked for their input.
Guilt spiraled inside me. This was too fast. I was hurting them, and now they’d be even more traumatized.
“It’s not because we don’t like him,” Kit said, sensing my distress.
“We love Brian,” Greta added.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have brought someone into your lives so soon.” My lips wobbled, dammit. “If my dating bothers you?—”
“We don’t mind,” Kit said.
Greta peered up at me. “Especially Brian.”
“So you’re okay with us dating?”
“Yes,” they said in unison.
“Then why did you put pickles in his protein shake?”
Greta shrugged. “I dunno. We’d put pickles on the list a while ago, and I saw a jar in the fridge.”
I stood silently for a moment, trying to come to terms with this madness.Were they diabolical future serial killers? Or kids being curious and somewhat dumb?
“At first, we were mad because he liked you so much. But then when we saw how much you like him back, we wanted to make sure he was committed.”
“By poisoning him.”
“Mom, that’s a bit hyperbolic,” Kit said.
Impressive vocabulary aside, the urge to shake her returned.
“Brian is nearly passed out on the couch. He just spent ten minutes in the bathroom throwing up,” I said.
Both girls’ eyes widened, and Greta’s even teared up. They were ashamed. Good.
“You made him sick. He was being kind to you by drinking your concoctions, and now he’s ill.”
Greta’s face had gone wan. “I didn’t want to make him sick. I just thought it was funny.”
Dammit. Iwas raising sociopaths.
God, I was fucking this all up.
Someday I’d be on a Netflix true crime documentary, musing about how it had all gone wrong.
I should have known. They were made up of 50 percent of Kenneth’s DNA, which meant there was plenty of asshole in their genetic code.
“You are both grounded,” I declared. “You will apologize to Brian and do extra chores to atone for what you did. In the meantime, no screens, no playdates, and no dessert for two weeks.”
After a prolonged apology, in which the girls agreed to clean Fuzzy’s litter box and organize the office supply closet, Brian perked up.
When the girls ran upstairs to find crackers to settle his stomach, he pulled me close and wrapped his strong arms around me. With a kiss to the top of my head, he chuckled. “Your kids hazed me.”
“It’s not funny.” I sighed, my heart heavy. “I need to call their therapist tomorrow. Nip this in the bud before it becomes the starting point of a life of crime.”
