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But they never came. Turns out, she suspected us all along, even hit me with the whole "oh, honey, I've seen how you've looked at him your whole life." Which made Jeremy turn green in the face and me doubt the validity of such a statement. That is, until I remembered that look she gave me at Vinny's Corner. She knew. Moms always do, don't they?
I appraise her again, frowning. "Mom, you haven't touched your food. Are you sure you're—"
Her head bobs up suddenly, swaying her locks, the auburn hue more pronounced than the hint in Jeremy's and my own hair. "Warren is behind what happened, right?"
Oh, no. I really thought I could delay this conversation. "Umm—"
"I mean, it was his company that stole your game, so of course it was him." When I remain silent, she pushes, "Am I right?"
"Yes."
Despite her assumption, she sinks back into her chair, shadows darkening along her pretty face. "If I'd known you were competing for his company's feature, I could've warned you. Warren Kingston corrupts everything he touches."
I squirm in my chair at the sound of his name on her tongue. It sounds wrong, like metal scraping metal, maybe because she hasn't spoken his name in years. Over a decade, since that night we sped off into the night, after she pepper sprayed him over a camcorder. I remember the events of that night clearly.
Sure, at such a young age, I couldn't grasp what I'd seen, but as I got older, I slowly realized I watched my own mother have sex with one of New York City's wealthiest men—a memory I actively shove to the furthest depths of my mind. Including the fact that she was his nighttime nanny and his mistress for several years. She wasn't seeing anyone romantically at the time, that I know of, but Warren was married.
The whole thing's never made sense to me. According to my mom, she's only ever had two boyfriends in her life, both of whom she married. Monogamy is obviously important to her, so... why?
Throughout our adolescence, that was the original elephant in this apartment, until it grew too old and died. I have no doubt she told Dad—she tells him everything—but Jeremy and me? We never spoke of it, hardly to each other, even. I never dared to ask that burning question, not once, growing up.
And I won't now.
"He's awful," I agree simply, leaving her the option to drop the subject.
"No, Juliana..." She pauses, earning the attention of both her children, as she gnaws on her lips in a way that tells me I should brace myself. "Warren's so much worse than just a serial womanizer."
For a split second, I catch Jeremy's stare. Suddenly, guilt sparks within me. Whatever she's about to say, it's for my sake. "Mom, you don't have to—"
"Yes." She lurches forward, only to settle back down, lowering her voice. "Yes, I do. I hoped I'd never have to dredge up the past, but... it's time you two know the truth."
Jeremy goes rigid, as do I.
The discomfort written all over her face is palpable as she heaves a sigh. "I just want you two to know, I only kept this from you, because I never wanted to make you feel guilty. That whatever I did, it was my choice. Not yours."
From my peripheral, Jeremy's Adam's apple bobbles, and when Mom starts thrumming her knuckles atop the table, I get a queasy feeling in my belly. The anticipation, it's too much. Way, way too much, so I blurt, "Is this about the camcorder? I-I mean..." I rake a hand across the back of my neck, regretting my impulsiveness. "Seems like the obvious guess to me. It's the last time we saw him."
"It is." She lowers her gaze. "I knew you'd understand what you saw when you grew up. But that's about it. I entertained an affair with a married man. Nothing more, nothing less. But..."
At her silence, Jeremy leans over the table, burying his face into his palms, his voice muffling against his fingers as he watches through their slits. "Just tell us, Mom. It's okay."
"Let's just say, that video... it proved how..." She clears her throat, nodding to herself. "Nonconsensual it was."
Jeremy's bolts from his chair, sending it skipping from the table harshly.
"No—no." She holds out her hands. Calm down, they tell the six-foot-four, two-hundred-and-fifty-pound gym rat, whose face is redder than blood. "He didn't force himself on me, but... he did..." As she swallows, something in her eyes disassociates from her next words. "He blackmailed me."
My hands shoot to my lips, mirroring Jeremy's reaction. He faces away, though, toward the kitchen, stuck standing like a statue, leaving all the questions up to me.
"How?" is the only one I can muster.
She looks elsewhere, too—as it all comes spilling out.
"Warren started taking notice of me early in my teaching career, not too long after Daniel's passing. He'd send flower deliveries to my classroom, sometimes bring a bouquet himself during my lunch break. It was flattering at first, but I wasn't into older men, specifically ones with a wife. He took the rejection quite well, it seemed. Then, a year later, after Hayden's first day in my class, he offered me a nighttime nanny position. It felt a little strange, given how I knew he pursued other women while being married, but..."
On her pause, Jeremy creeps back to his chair, not bothering to pull it back up to the table, as he listens, folding his hands in his lap. When I look, his knuckles are white, trembling with composure.
"I needed the money. Sure, I didn't have to pay my children's private school tuition, but making ends meet was hard enough on a single income. Plus, I could watch you two at the same time, so I took the job. Not long after that, he started pursuing me again. Subtly groping me—in ways he brushed off as accidental. Flirtatious remarks. Invasive questions. Gifts. It kept getting worse, despite refusing his advancements, to the point where the money wasn't worth it anymore. When I told him to find a new nanny—that's when we had a serious problem."
