"Harry," I chide, "Don't do that."
"Call dad? But he might be dead?"
I shake my head. "He's not dead."
"Are you sure? I haven't seen him in a whole week. What if he's in ditch and needs help."
"Well you can't help him, you're nine. You don't need that on your conscious."
He frowns. "So he is in a ditch?"
"No! He's...he's on a trip. And..." I sigh. "Go on. Give him a call."
He picks up. "Harrison does your mother know you called me?"
Harry looks up at me. "Yes. Are you alive dad?"
"Why do you always think I'm dead, son?"
"Because you're rich, so people want you kill you. And eat you. On TV they said they're gonna eat the rich? Are you gonna get eaten?"
Benjamin sighs. "That's not what eat the rich means. I'm not gonna die and I'm not gonna get eaten."
Harrison looks up at me. I nod.
He shrugs. "Oh. Well then bye."
I frown. Sometimes I think Harrison wants him to be dead. He's pretty disappointed when he's not.
"Goodbye, Harrison listen to your mother."
"I do. Because my ears work."
"That's—good bye Harrison."
He hangs up. I sigh. "See? Alive and well."
Harry gets up. "Momma. I have friend from school. Him and his mom want to come over to have a play date. Can they?"
I shrug. "Tomorrow before school, I'll give you my number to give to his mom. She can call me and we'll work out the details okay?"
He nods, and I put him to bed.
• • •
The next afternoon, I get a call from an unknown number.
"Hello is this Jessica, Harrison's mom?"
"This is she. Are you calling about the play date?" I reply.
"Yes. I was wondering if I could bring my son over to your house. When would you be available?"
"Whenever you are. He typically takes a nap after school so maybe a little later? 4?"
"Wonderful! Does tomorrow work?"
"Sounds good!" I smile.
Wow. My first parent play date! I...this is kinda excited. I should make cute snacks. Like...octopus hotdogs and popcorn!
I smile. I'm a mom.
• • •
I hate the bitch as soon as she walks in. She looks over my apartment and makes a face I've only seen British royalty make.
I scoff. "Hello. Welcome to my home. Can I get you anything?"
"No, thank you,"
I chuckle. "Right. Well, Harrison you can show your friend your room."
The boys leave, and the two of us sit in the living room awkwardly.
"So, what do you do?" I ask.
She smiles. "I'm a stay at home mom. My husbands runs his family business so..."
I nod. "That's wonderful! You just love the time you get with your son!"
She smiles. "And you?"
"I'm staying home for now, but I'll be picking up a job soon."
"I noticed his father isn't around," she looked around my house. "We hadn't heard of you, so I assumed you'd...died."
I smile tightly. "Well, I'm alive."
"I just spend so much time with my boy I couldn't imagine not seeing him for...such a long, long time."
"Well, we can't all have great imaginations," I chuckle.
She narrows her eyes. "Ah. You seem to be very content here. I'm just so...inspired. My husband takes such good care of me I couldn't imagine—"
I smirk. Okay. "Look, I'm gonna put it this way. I've dealt with people like you my whole life. You had the right idea. But the wrong bitch. You may be fucking an heir, but I'm fucking heiress. Now you can do one of two things: rip your son away from mine like the petty high school girl you seem to think you are. Or you can sit here, shut up, and drink the wine like the mother you claim you are,"
I pour the red, handing her the glass. "So? It's a smooth blend I promise."
She grabs it, sighing.
"Are you really an heiress?" She asked.
I smirk. "Hm. And I've recently come into my full inheritance. Stick with me honey. There's far more interesting things than being the bitch the other moms are afraid of."
She glances out of the side of her eyes. "Like what?"
I raise my glass. "Being a bitch everyone is afraid of. Now once you do that? That's where the money is."
She chuckles. "I like you, Jessie. I thought you were a bitch."
"And you are. I love it."