AFOC Chapter 8
Chapter 8
BPOV
I’m distracted; my focus should be on what the person in front of me is saying. They’re describing why they would make a good personal assistant, but I’m too in my head about the phone call I just received.
“I’m just going to get to the point, dear. We hope that Julie can live with you.”
Nine kids twenty-four seven, that’s not too much, right? I know in my heart we have room and more than enough money to support her. Julie already fits in like a glove, but that’s an extra person in the house. Can I give her the attention she needs; that all my kids need? Will I stretch myself too thin? I know in my heart what I want to say, but I need to talk to Edward and to our kids.
I try to focus on my interviewee. “Amanda, what would you say your strongest attributes are as a personal assistant?”
She answers with very detailed examples as my mind wanders again.
It’s been nonstop since we got back from Michigan. Edward has been pulling extra hours to get caught up from being away for a month. I’ve been on the phone nonstop with contractors, donors, businesses and corporations. The boys have begun football practice, Sarah’s practicing for cheerleading tryouts. She’s been flourishing with the transition. Sarah had a few bumps at night, or when she went for the cheerleading squad; she wanted to call her grandparents and remembered she couldn’t. She shut down for a couple of days, but mostly she’s happy.
Will Julie adjust as Sarah has? Their circumstances are different; Sarah didn’t have a choice, her grandparents were taken from her. Julie’s grandparents are giving her up, just like her mother did. Jake wanted nothing to do with her either.
I force myself to the present.
“Thank you for coming in. I’ll let you know my decision by Friday.” I quickly shake her hand.
I sigh, looking at all the resumes on my desk. I have three for the housekeeper, two for personal assistant, and four for the receptionist position. Angela really did a marvelous job gathering up to ten candidates per position for me, earning her a bonus.
The housekeeper position I think I’ll send over to Edward to see what he thinks, considering it’s as much his decision as it is mine. With the position of PA, I think I’ll do some social media research and see what they’re like when they aren’t being interviewed. I don’t need them to be perfect, but I want them to have similar views as mine for this to work. And I’ll call Leah in to have her input for the receptionist job to see what she thinks.
A rap on my door forces my eyes from my desk to where Sam is standing with some papers.
“Mrs. Cullen, Leah wanted me to drop these off.” She holds some papers up for me to see.
A warm smile spreads across my face. “Yes, I assume those are the hourly logs. And, you can call me Bella.”
Sam nods, ignoring my request to call me Bella here at the center yet again. She places the papers in my outstretched hand.
“How are you liking the daycare?” I ask.
After being with Tanya and Irina for just a few weeks, I can tell a difference in my son’s girlfriend. She is still a regular fixture around my home, but she’s not as intense as before. Sam’s volunteering at the daycare which gives her the hours she needs for her senior year volunteering requirement, and it buffs up her transcripts.
Her eyes brighten as she answers. “I love working with the kids. It reinforces me wanting to get into social work.”
I can see why my son is fond of Sam. She’s her own person who has dreams outside of marriage and a family. His ex was always dreaming and planning a future where my son was the breadwinner, but Sam, well, she has her own plans.
“That’s great. I know Leah really loves having you. Not a lot of the younger crowd likes to volunteer there.”
Her cheeks turn red. “She’s cool.”
I chuckle. “Thank you, Sam.”
I know she’s not my daughter, but she’s definitely a young woman I’m rooting for. If I’m lucky enough, someday she’ll be my daughter-in-law.
Of course, more depressing thoughts occur when thinking of my children. Damon is doing better, but, as always, he’s pushing the boundaries of my self-control. He constantly asks to go to a party every Saturday, and at least every Wednesday he asks to go somewhere; he doesn’t come home until late at night. I know I shouldn’t allow my fifteen-year-old son to just do what I’m certain he’s doing, but my thinking is that at least I know where he is compared to the alternative. And it’s not as if I say yes every time.
Why do I feel I’m just making excuses for myself?
I shake my head, grabbing my phone to take on the next part of my day. I have to get the clinic ready, and I make a mental note to make sure I sit down with Edward about the phone call I received.
Coming home to loud voices is not a homecoming you want as a mom, especially when said voices are of your husband and one of your children arguing.
The anger in Edward’s voice startles me. “She was eighteen.”
“It’s not like she knew how old I am until you interrupted.”
“How could you be doing that at work?”
I walk into a hostile standoff between Edward and Damon.
“What’s going on?”
Edward turns his red face to me. “Mike called and said Damon needed a ride home. I get there, and Damon is on the receiving end of a blow job with an eighteen-year-old woman.”
My heart sinks as I look at my son; he doesn’t look ashamed at all.
“How do you even know she's eighteen, Dad?”
Edward closes his eyes for a moment. “She shadowed Angela for two weeks.”
Damon shifts on his feet. “She didn’t know how old I am, please don’t get her into trouble.”
I shake my head, not understanding where I went wrong. “Damon, please go to your room. Your dad and I need to talk about what to do with you.”
“Sex is a normal thing, Mom. It’s not like I did anything wrong.”
I glare at him. “You told this girl you were at least of age. You manipulated a poor woman to perform a sexual act on you. This is serious! I could prosecute her for statutory rape, Damon.”
He casts his eyes down. “I didn’t think of it that way.”
I shake my head. “No, you didn’t think at all. Please, go to your room.”
Edward stomps off to the kitchen, and I quietly follow.
“Where are the other kids?” I ask, sitting down at the table as I watch him bang things around the kitchen until he has a drink in his hand.
He takes a sip of amber liquid. “Lucian and Mike took them out for pizza.”
A few moments pass of him sipping his drink and me breathing. The tension is thick; neither one of us wants to address what we’re going to do.
“If Damon is just working to hook up, I don’t think he needs to be working there anymore.”
I know my husband is right, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt to think of Damon giving up the job he begged for the moment he turned fifteen. “What should we have him do, then? We can’t have him bored enough to find other ways to be promiscuous.”
His eyes are hard when they land on mine. “He can volunteer at the daycare, and/or work at my office.”
I close my eyes, agreeing with him by nodding my head. I have to bring up the other issue. “Okay, this is such horrid timing, but there’s another thing we need to talk about.”
His jaw tightens as he closes his eyes. “Bella,” he grinds through his teeth. “I can’t take anymore disappointments from our kids today.”
I ignore his comment. “Julie’s grandma called me today.”
His posture loosens up and he meets my eyes. “What day does she go home?”
“That’s that thing.” I brace myself. “She wants Julie to live with us permanently.” I launch into the conversation I had with Ellen.
He sits there sipping his drink. “Okay, so we move Damon to the third floor with Lucian and Mike. Sarah can take Damon’s old room, and Julie can take over the summer room.”
It seems so simple the way he just arranges things like what’s happening is no big deal. “You don’t think it's too much for us?”
I look at my husband, trying to think of the last time he and I had a moment for us. We always told ourselves once the girls go home, but now they are home. I hate feeling selfish, but I really miss my husband.
Edward sweeps his gaze over me, and I see his need. “She’s family. It’s only too much if we let it be.”
His warm words take all the worry away. “Are you sure?”
“Couldn’t be more sure,” he answers simply.
A small smile graces my lips. “Since that’s done, let’s go give our son his punishment.”
My husband jumps up and makes his way up to Damon’s room. I get the impression he’ll enjoy doling out this punishment.
Damon is laying on his bed, his headphones in, and all I see is Jake when we first met. My heart sinks. What if no matter what I do or say, Damon just has too much Jake in him? I shouldn’t be thinking like this; I’m a horrible mom.
I feel Edward’s hand on my shoulder. I turn and look at him, finding his eyes searching mine as I wipe away tears.
“Damon,” Edward calls.
His looks up at us and pulls out his headphones. “So, how long am I grounded?”
Edward growls at our son’s uncaring response. “We don’t think grounding you will be enough for you to understand the seriousness of what you did.”
Damon sits up, looking between us. “You aren’t serious about getting the bodyguard? Dad, come on. I mean, I haven’t snuck out. I’ve been asking.” His voice gives away his worry.
I take a breath. “No, you’ll put in your two-weeks’ notice at Buckle, and you’ll either be at the daycare with Leah, or in the office with Dad in your spare time.”
He jumps up. “That isn’t fair!”
Edward steps toward him. “We don’t care. You’re fifteen; you’re supposed to be working, not getting your dick sucked.”
I blanch at his blunt words. “This is happening. Tomorrow, me or your dad will take you up there so you can tell them you’re quitting, and then we’ll make a schedule on what days you’re with Leah or with Dad.”
I watch as his face transforms from the little boy I’ve loved and raised and sacrificed for, into an angry teen that looks too much like his father. “He isn’t even my fucking dad! This is bullshit!”
My heart shatters as my husband leaves the room shaking.
“Damon.” I turn away, clasping the door handle and trying to keep my tears at bay. “I’m sorry you’re angry, but these are the consequences of your poor choices.”
I shut the door behind me. It doesn’t take much to find Edward in the den with a drink in his hand. His face is broken as he blankly stares at the T.V.
“I’m not in the mood to discuss it, Bella.”
BPOV
I’m distracted; my focus should be on what the person in front of me is saying. They’re describing why they would make a good personal assistant, but I’m too in my head about the phone call I just received.
“I’m just going to get to the point, dear. We hope that Julie can live with you.”
Nine kids twenty-four seven, that’s not too much, right? I know in my heart we have room and more than enough money to support her. Julie already fits in like a glove, but that’s an extra person in the house. Can I give her the attention she needs; that all my kids need? Will I stretch myself too thin? I know in my heart what I want to say, but I need to talk to Edward and to our kids.
I try to focus on my interviewee. “Amanda, what would you say your strongest attributes are as a personal assistant?”
She answers with very detailed examples as my mind wanders again.
It’s been nonstop since we got back from Michigan. Edward has been pulling extra hours to get caught up from being away for a month. I’ve been on the phone nonstop with contractors, donors, businesses and corporations. The boys have begun football practice, Sarah’s practicing for cheerleading tryouts. She’s been flourishing with the transition. Sarah had a few bumps at night, or when she went for the cheerleading squad; she wanted to call her grandparents and remembered she couldn’t. She shut down for a couple of days, but mostly she’s happy.
Will Julie adjust as Sarah has? Their circumstances are different; Sarah didn’t have a choice, her grandparents were taken from her. Julie’s grandparents are giving her up, just like her mother did. Jake wanted nothing to do with her either.
I force myself to the present.
“Thank you for coming in. I’ll let you know my decision by Friday.” I quickly shake her hand.
I sigh, looking at all the resumes on my desk. I have three for the housekeeper, two for personal assistant, and four for the receptionist position. Angela really did a marvelous job gathering up to ten candidates per position for me, earning her a bonus.
The housekeeper position I think I’ll send over to Edward to see what he thinks, considering it’s as much his decision as it is mine. With the position of PA, I think I’ll do some social media research and see what they’re like when they aren’t being interviewed. I don’t need them to be perfect, but I want them to have similar views as mine for this to work. And I’ll call Leah in to have her input for the receptionist job to see what she thinks.
A rap on my door forces my eyes from my desk to where Sam is standing with some papers.
“Mrs. Cullen, Leah wanted me to drop these off.” She holds some papers up for me to see.
A warm smile spreads across my face. “Yes, I assume those are the hourly logs. And, you can call me Bella.”
Sam nods, ignoring my request to call me Bella here at the center yet again. She places the papers in my outstretched hand.
“How are you liking the daycare?” I ask.
After being with Tanya and Irina for just a few weeks, I can tell a difference in my son’s girlfriend. She is still a regular fixture around my home, but she’s not as intense as before. Sam’s volunteering at the daycare which gives her the hours she needs for her senior year volunteering requirement, and it buffs up her transcripts.
Her eyes brighten as she answers. “I love working with the kids. It reinforces me wanting to get into social work.”
I can see why my son is fond of Sam. She’s her own person who has dreams outside of marriage and a family. His ex was always dreaming and planning a future where my son was the breadwinner, but Sam, well, she has her own plans.
“That’s great. I know Leah really loves having you. Not a lot of the younger crowd likes to volunteer there.”
Her cheeks turn red. “She’s cool.”
I chuckle. “Thank you, Sam.”
I know she’s not my daughter, but she’s definitely a young woman I’m rooting for. If I’m lucky enough, someday she’ll be my daughter-in-law.
Of course, more depressing thoughts occur when thinking of my children. Damon is doing better, but, as always, he’s pushing the boundaries of my self-control. He constantly asks to go to a party every Saturday, and at least every Wednesday he asks to go somewhere; he doesn’t come home until late at night. I know I shouldn’t allow my fifteen-year-old son to just do what I’m certain he’s doing, but my thinking is that at least I know where he is compared to the alternative. And it’s not as if I say yes every time.
Why do I feel I’m just making excuses for myself?
I shake my head, grabbing my phone to take on the next part of my day. I have to get the clinic ready, and I make a mental note to make sure I sit down with Edward about the phone call I received.
*AFOC*
Coming home to loud voices is not a homecoming you want as a mom, especially when said voices are of your husband and one of your children arguing.
The anger in Edward’s voice startles me. “She was eighteen.”
“It’s not like she knew how old I am until you interrupted.”
“How could you be doing that at work?”
I walk into a hostile standoff between Edward and Damon.
“What’s going on?”
Edward turns his red face to me. “Mike called and said Damon needed a ride home. I get there, and Damon is on the receiving end of a blow job with an eighteen-year-old woman.”
My heart sinks as I look at my son; he doesn’t look ashamed at all.
“How do you even know she's eighteen, Dad?”
Edward closes his eyes for a moment. “She shadowed Angela for two weeks.”
Damon shifts on his feet. “She didn’t know how old I am, please don’t get her into trouble.”
I shake my head, not understanding where I went wrong. “Damon, please go to your room. Your dad and I need to talk about what to do with you.”
“Sex is a normal thing, Mom. It’s not like I did anything wrong.”
I glare at him. “You told this girl you were at least of age. You manipulated a poor woman to perform a sexual act on you. This is serious! I could prosecute her for statutory rape, Damon.”
He casts his eyes down. “I didn’t think of it that way.”
I shake my head. “No, you didn’t think at all. Please, go to your room.”
Edward stomps off to the kitchen, and I quietly follow.
“Where are the other kids?” I ask, sitting down at the table as I watch him bang things around the kitchen until he has a drink in his hand.
He takes a sip of amber liquid. “Lucian and Mike took them out for pizza.”
A few moments pass of him sipping his drink and me breathing. The tension is thick; neither one of us wants to address what we’re going to do.
“If Damon is just working to hook up, I don’t think he needs to be working there anymore.”
I know my husband is right, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt to think of Damon giving up the job he begged for the moment he turned fifteen. “What should we have him do, then? We can’t have him bored enough to find other ways to be promiscuous.”
His eyes are hard when they land on mine. “He can volunteer at the daycare, and/or work at my office.”
I close my eyes, agreeing with him by nodding my head. I have to bring up the other issue. “Okay, this is such horrid timing, but there’s another thing we need to talk about.”
His jaw tightens as he closes his eyes. “Bella,” he grinds through his teeth. “I can’t take anymore disappointments from our kids today.”
I ignore his comment. “Julie’s grandma called me today.”
His posture loosens up and he meets my eyes. “What day does she go home?”
“That’s that thing.” I brace myself. “She wants Julie to live with us permanently.” I launch into the conversation I had with Ellen.
He sits there sipping his drink. “Okay, so we move Damon to the third floor with Lucian and Mike. Sarah can take Damon’s old room, and Julie can take over the summer room.”
It seems so simple the way he just arranges things like what’s happening is no big deal. “You don’t think it's too much for us?”
I look at my husband, trying to think of the last time he and I had a moment for us. We always told ourselves once the girls go home, but now they are home. I hate feeling selfish, but I really miss my husband.
Edward sweeps his gaze over me, and I see his need. “She’s family. It’s only too much if we let it be.”
His warm words take all the worry away. “Are you sure?”
“Couldn’t be more sure,” he answers simply.
A small smile graces my lips. “Since that’s done, let’s go give our son his punishment.”
My husband jumps up and makes his way up to Damon’s room. I get the impression he’ll enjoy doling out this punishment.
Damon is laying on his bed, his headphones in, and all I see is Jake when we first met. My heart sinks. What if no matter what I do or say, Damon just has too much Jake in him? I shouldn’t be thinking like this; I’m a horrible mom.
I feel Edward’s hand on my shoulder. I turn and look at him, finding his eyes searching mine as I wipe away tears.
“Damon,” Edward calls.
His looks up at us and pulls out his headphones. “So, how long am I grounded?”
Edward growls at our son’s uncaring response. “We don’t think grounding you will be enough for you to understand the seriousness of what you did.”
Damon sits up, looking between us. “You aren’t serious about getting the bodyguard? Dad, come on. I mean, I haven’t snuck out. I’ve been asking.” His voice gives away his worry.
I take a breath. “No, you’ll put in your two-weeks’ notice at Buckle, and you’ll either be at the daycare with Leah, or in the office with Dad in your spare time.”
He jumps up. “That isn’t fair!”
Edward steps toward him. “We don’t care. You’re fifteen; you’re supposed to be working, not getting your dick sucked.”
I blanch at his blunt words. “This is happening. Tomorrow, me or your dad will take you up there so you can tell them you’re quitting, and then we’ll make a schedule on what days you’re with Leah or with Dad.”
I watch as his face transforms from the little boy I’ve loved and raised and sacrificed for, into an angry teen that looks too much like his father. “He isn’t even my fucking dad! This is bullshit!”
My heart shatters as my husband leaves the room shaking.
“Damon.” I turn away, clasping the door handle and trying to keep my tears at bay. “I’m sorry you’re angry, but these are the consequences of your poor choices.”
I shut the door behind me. It doesn’t take much to find Edward in the den with a drink in his hand. His face is broken as he blankly stares at the T.V.
“I’m not in the mood to discuss it, Bella.”
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