"Mommy, can you not tell Uncle Patrick I had an allergic reaction? Otherwise he won't buy me chocolate anymore." She paused, thinking. "Actually, it's Daddy's fault. He never lets me eat chocolate. If I'd eaten more of it, I wouldn't be allergic."
Hildegarde slumped against the headboard, exhaustion carved into her face.
Hearing her daughter mention "Daddy" brought Wilfred back to mind.
Her chest felt like it was stuffed with a stone.
"Wilfred, you bastard. You blocked my phone. Your daughter had an allergic reaction, and you didn't even care. Fine. You've got nerve!"
"Go ahead—don't ever come back!"
By the time Hilary's IV finished, it was already one in the morning.
Hildegarde drove her daughter home, too exhausted to even shower. She collapsed onto the bed and sank into a dead sleep.
At six a.m., she was jolted awake by her daughter's crying.
Normally, Hildegarde slept until eight-thirty sharp. When she woke, her toothpaste and warm water would already be laid out—Wilfred always prepared them.
But today, she was dragged from sleep at six.
Her head felt like it was about to split open.
"Marjorie, what's going on?"
The housekeeper hurried in. "I'm so sorry, ma'am. The little miss woke up and started fussing. I've tried everything."
Hildegarde clawed at her tangled hair like a woman possessed. Gone was any trace of the poised, commanding CEO. Her voice came out in a near-shout: "Make her stop!"
"She's just a child! You can't even manage that? What exactly am I paying you for?"
Marjorie felt wronged. The two girls had always been Wilfred's responsibility. Since coming to this household, she'd never once been asked to handle childcare.
Of course she didn't know how.
But seeing her employer on the verge of losing it, Marjorie swallowed her words. She scooped up Hilary and hurried downstairs.
Hildegarde had mild insomnia. Once woken, she couldn't fall back asleep.
She gave up and went downstairs.
"Marjorie, make me breakfast. I want an egg and ham sandwich. The ham has to be imported from New Zealand, and the egg fried medium."
"Me too, me too! I want a bacon cheese egg burger!" Hilary chimed in with her own order.
Marjorie froze.
Cold sweat beaded on her forehead.
All of Hildegarde and the girls' meals had always been Wilfred's domain. Marjorie had never so much as touched the kitchen.
She had no idea how to make what they'd ordered. She'd never even heard of half of it.