Victoria: Please. I really miss her.
Because I hate confrontation, I give in.
Me: Okay, you can come over this morning.
Victoria: Thank you!
There’s a knock on the door while I’m in the middle of feeding Hazel, so I get up and answer it. When I swing open the door, Victoria saunters in wearing another skimpy minidress and heels. Her hair is done, but it looks messy, like it’s from last night. And her makeup is a bit smudged.
She’s holding a small wrapped gift in her hand. “Morning!” she chirps a bit too loudly.
“Morning.” I want to ask her if she slept in that outfit but bite my tongue.
She walks past me and straight to Hazel. “Good morning, sweet girl,” she coos. “Did you miss Mommy?”
I’m stunned by her words but quickly recover. “Victoria…”
“Oops! Sorry.” She bats her eyelashes at me. “It was out of habit.” When her eyes meet mine, I notice they’re glassy. My hackles rise. Something is wrong.
She sets the box down and lifts Hazel out of her highchair. “I got you a gift.” She kisses her cheek then sets her down on the floor, handing her the box.
Hazel excitedly tears at the wrapping paper. She doesn’t really know what a gift is, but she loves ripping paper apart. Losing patience, Victoria helps her rip the paper, until the box underneath is exposed.
She opens the box and inside is a… pacifier?
“This is from Tiffany’s,” she notes. “A platinum pacifier for my baby girl.”
What the hell… “She doesn’t use a pacifier,” I point out, confused.
Victoria’s gaze swings over to me, and for a second it looks like she was about to glare at me, but she quickly reins it in. “She did when she was with me.”
I don’t like her tone… at all. “That may be so, but she didn’t have one when we got her, so we never gave her one.”
She scoffs. “What are you saying? That you’re a better parent than me?”
I flinch at how crazy she’s acting. “Are you okay?”
She stands. “Of course I’m okay. And the last time I checked, you aren’t my mother or my babysitter.”
“No, but I am Hazel’s mother, and I’m going to need you to leave.”
Her face falls. “You said I could come over.”
“And now I’m saying you need to leave.”
I pull my phone out, ready to call the police, but thankfully, she does as I ask and walks to the door.
“I don’t know what your problem is this morning, if you’re jealous over my gift to Hazel, but I suggest you pull the stick out of your ass. I imagine it’s painful.”
And with those parting words, she walks out the door, leaving me gaping in shock. Who the hell is that woman?
Not wanting to upset Chase while he’s at work, I lock the door and go about my day. I’ll speak to him tonight when he gets home. Of course it’ll probably ruin our night, but there’s nothing I can do about that.
Hazel and I spend the day playing inside. I don’t know what’s going on with Victoria and the way she was acting has me all sorts of nervous. When two o’clock rolls around, Lexi sends me a text that she’s going over to our parents’ and will pick up Hazel on her way.
So, a couple hours later, when there’s a knock on the door, I assume it’s her. Only when I open it, I find Victoria, dressed in the same clothes as earlier, with her makeup running down her face.
“I’m so sorry,” she cries, pushing through the door before I can stop her.
“You can’t be here.” I’m already grabbing my phone, ready to call nine-one-one. Something is wrong with her. It has to be drugs…or maybe she’s drunk.
Hazel is finishing up her afternoon nap, so I’m thankful she won’t see Victoria like this. Not that she’ll remember it years from now. But I don’t want her upset.
“I shouldn’t have acted that way this morning,” she sobs. “I’m just missing my daughter so much, and I got into a huge fight with my parents. My dad got mad when I told him I took the modeling job instead of going to school. And they didn’t know about Hazel being Chase’s…” Tears slide down her cheeks. “I know we agreed to supervised visitation, but if I could just bring her to their house to visit maybe they’ll forgive me…”
Seeing the state of panic she’s in, I don’t want to upset her further. My goal at this point is to get her out of here so I can lock the door and call the police.
“I would have to ask Chase,” I explain calmly. “And he’s at work right now.”
“Can you call him, please?” she begs. “Please.”
“I can ask him tonight, but I can’t call him while he’s at work.”
“That’s such bullshit!” she yells. “I was married to him for years! I know damn well you can call him anytime.” She gets in my face, and I reach for my phone, now scared.