She picked up his coffee cup and carried it toward the sink.
“That should tell you something.”
That afternoon, I went straight to Grandma’s house.
She was sitting at the kitchen table working on the blanket. Most of the stains were already gone.
When I told her what Monica had done, Grandma asked one strange question.
“Did she move Simon’s baby monitor into your room too?”
I paused.
“Yes.”
The monitor had a small camera and connected to an app on my phone because I sometimes watched Simon while Dad was cooking or showering.
“Does it save clips?” Grandma asked.
I stared at her.
Then I understood.
“It saves motion clips for seven days.”
Grandma nodded. “Good.”
“You want me to record her?”
“No. You’re not going to set anything up. You’re not going to bait her, and you’re not going to start an argument. You’re going to live exactly the way you normally do. If the monitor happens to record something important, save it.”
That was all she said.
Monica made it easy.
The first clip came that same night.
At 1:17 a.m., Simon started crying. The monitor recorded Monica opening my bedroom door. For one hopeful second, I thought she was going to take him.
Instead, she told me he needed a bottle.
“I have school in five hours,” I whispered.
“So?”
“Can’t you take him just once?”
Monica looked directly at me. “This is your punishment. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before running to Gloria.”
Then she walked out.
The camera caught everything.
I saved the clip.
A few days later, I found Monica removing the small framed photo of Mom from my desk.
When I told her to put it back, she said she didn’t want Julia’s face in the room where Simon slept.
“It’s my picture.”
“And I don’t want it around him.”
“She’s his mother.”
“She was your mother,” Monica said. Then she glanced toward Simon’s crib. “He won’t even remember her.”
“He will because I’ll tell him about her.”
Monica gave a small laugh.
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”
The monitor caught that too.
I saved it.
But the third clip was the one that changed everything.
Dad had gone out for dinner with an old coworker. Simon was asleep, and I was doing homework when Monica came into my room holding an old family photo album.
She dropped it onto my bed and said she had found it in the living room.
“So?”
“I told you I don’t want this stuff around Simon.”
“It was sitting on a shelf.”
“I don’t care.”
I finally asked the question I had been thinking for months.
“Why does Mom bother you so much?”
For the first time, Monica stopped pretending.
“Because I’m tired of walking into every room and feeling like I’m second place to Julia.”
“She died.”
“I know that.”
Her voice rose before she quickly lowered it again.
“I have spent a year cleaning up the life she left behind.”
I stared at her.
“Simon and I aren’t something she left behind for you to clean up.”
Monica stepped closer.
“You think your father wants to spend the rest of his life staring at Julia’s face? He chose me.”
“He married you because he was grieving.”
Her expression immediately changed.
“He married me because I was there when Julia wasn’t.”
Then she leaned closer and lowered her voice.
“And if you keep making him choose between his wife and a teenager who refuses to move on, don’t be so sure you’ll like his choice.”
My stomach dropped.
Monica straightened up and added, “If you run to Gloria one more time, I’ll make sure your father sends you to live with her permanently.”
Then she walked out.
The baby monitor had recorded every word.
I sat on my bed staring at the camera, then sent the clip to Grandma.
She called less than a minute later.
“Did you save it somewhere else?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” she said. “Tomorrow, I’m going to apologize to Monica.”
I thought I had misheard her.
The next morning, Grandma called Dad.
She told him she had been too harsh after the blanket incident. She said everyone was grieving in different ways, she didn’t want the family fighting anymore, and she wanted to apologize properly.
Then she invited all of us to Sunday dinner.
Monica was delighted.
“I knew she’d eventually realize she went too far,” she told Dad.
I said nothing.
When we arrived at Grandma’s house Sunday evening, my aunt Rachel was there with her husband, along with Dad’s older brother. Both of them had been very close to Mom.
Dinner was strangely normal.
Grandma served roast chicken. Monica talked cheerfully about redecorating our living room. Dad seemed relieved that everyone was finally getting along.
Then dessert came.
Grandma put the pie on the table and said, “Before we eat, I need to say something.”
Monica leaned back in her chair.
Grandma looked directly at her.
“Monica, I owe you an apology. I accused you of deliberately trying to erase Julia from Simon’s life.”
Monica gave a small, satisfied smile. “I know you were emotional.”
Grandma nodded.
“So I just want to make sure I understood everything correctly. You didn’t purposely throw away the blanket?”
For the first time, Monica hesitated.
Then she smiled again. “Of course not. It was a misunderstanding. I thought it had been ruined.”
I felt my nails dig into my palm.
Grandma remained perfectly calm.
“And Simon sleeping in her room?”
“She offered to help.”
Dad looked at me.
Before I could speak, Grandma continued.
“And you never threatened to send her away if she spoke to me?”
Monica looked offended.
“Of course not. I would never threaten a child.”
Grandma sat back.
For a few seconds, no one spoke.
Then she looked at Dad.
“Do you believe her?”
Dad shifted uncomfortably. “Mom, what is this?”
“It’s a simple question.”
He glanced at Monica, then at me.
“I don’t know.”
Monica immediately reached for his arm. “This is exactly what she does. She creates drama and makes everyone question me.”
Grandma nodded slowly.
“I see.”
Then she reached for the television remote.
Monica froze.
Grandma turned on the TV.
The first video began.
There was my bedroom. The time in the corner read 1:17 a.m.
Everyone heard Monica’s voice clearly.
“This is your punishment. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before running to Gloria.”
No one at the table moved.
Grandma played the second clip.
“I don’t want Julia’s face in the room where Simon sleeps.”
Then came Monica’s next words.
“He won’t even remember her.”
And finally:
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”
Dad slowly turned toward his wife.
Monica’s face had gone completely white.
“That was taken out of context.”
Grandma didn’t argue.
She simply played the last clip.
This time, Monica’s voice filled the entire room.
“He chose me.”
Then:
“He married me because I was there when Julia wasn’t.”
And finally:
“If you keep making him choose between his wife and a teenager who refuses to move on, don’t be so sure you’ll like his choice.”
The room went completely silent.
Monica shot to her feet.
“You recorded me?”
Grandma stayed seated.
“No. You moved a baby and his monitor into a teenager’s bedroom because you wanted to punish her.”
She paused.
“You recorded yourself.”
Dad was still staring at the television.
Monica turned toward him.
“Mark, say something.”
He looked at her.
“You told me she volunteered to take Simon at night.”
Monica opened her mouth.
“You told me she stayed awake playing on her phone.”
“She was being disrespectful—”
“You told me Julia’s things were making her unstable.”
“I was trying to help this family move on!”
Dad stood.
For Complete Cooking STEPS Please Head On Over To Next Page Or Open button (>) and don’t forget to SHARE with your Facebook friends.
