Baby Bitch (Bitches and Queens) (3 page)

Their family had a tradition of gathering
at Hannah and Willow’s home each week for Sunday brunch. They were informal
occasions. Although the adults were all freshly showered and dressed, the
children often gathered around the table in their pajamas.

Abigail was always impressed, and yes, slightly
envious, by how beautiful McKenna looked first thing in the morning, or any
time of the day for that matter. Impeccable, with not even a single strand of
hair out of place. Abby occasionally wondered if she slept on an angel’s cloud.
And heels—regardless of the season or time of day, McKenna always wore heels.
It was the reason she didn’t participate in organized sports, which given her
height, stature, and slightly obsessive need to be the best at everything she
did, she probably would have excelled at.

Hannah and Willow hugged Abigail and then
studied her in unison.

“Something is different about you, Abby,”
Hannah stated.

“There is something changed,” Willow
agreed.

Abby smiled brightly, revealing her
braces-free teeth. “You both know what’s different.”

“Abby, you look divine,” Hannah exclaimed
and pulled her back in her arms for another hug. “You’ll drive the boys crazy.”

A troubled frown crossed Sam’s brow, and
he decided a change of subject was in order. “Yum, something smells good,” he said.

“Not because of me. McKenna made brunch
today,” Hannah answered.

Sam looked over the spread suspiciously.
McKenna playfully smacked his arm. “Stop. You know I can cook. I made
Thanksgiving dinner last year.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Awake
before ten o’clock on the weekend and a glow of giddiness. What’s your secret?
Did you meet a boy?”

“No,” McKenna groaned.

“Kenna will never meet anyone because she
is too picky,” Kenyon declared.

“I am not,” McKenna denied as she sat
down across the table from her parents. “I am just waiting for the
one
.”
Her smile turned dreamy as she looked up at Hannah. “Tell us the story.”

“Oh McKenna, no one wants to hear it
again,” Hannah said.

“Please,” McKenna pouted.

“Yes, tell us again,” Sam added
gleefully. He enjoyed hearing Hannah’s version of how she and Willow met. It
wasn’t a complete fabrication—more like the abridged edition. He was relieved
he wasn’t the only one lying to his child.

“All right,” Hannah conceded. “The first
time I saw your mom…” Hannah paused. Looking over at Willow, she reached for
her hand and stared deeply into her eyes. “…I knew she was the one.”

“The
only
one,” McKenna corrected.

“Yes,” Hannah murmured. “The only one. I
knew we were meant to be together. We had only been dating a few months when I
whisked her away for a holiday in Paris. And I proposed to her on the metro.”

“In Russian,” McKenna added.

“In Russian,” Hannah agreed.

“And?” McKenna prodded as she looked over
at Willow.

“And of course, I said yes. Your mommy is
very irresistible,” Willow said.

“And then you made us,” McKenna finished
softly. She adored her parent’s love story. It was so romantic. She wasn’t too picky.
She had standards, unlike a certain twin she knew who had sex with anything
that had breasts. Obviously, Kenyon didn’t hold to the philosophy of waiting
for the one, but neither of her mothers knew that. They both still believed he
was a virgin, which was a joke. Although McKenna had no idea exactly how many
girls he had slept with because she didn’t keep track of that kind of thing,
she did know that one of his
girlfriends
had a pregnancy scare last
year. It really freaked him out—as it should, but just when he was about to
tell their parents, the girl in question got her period. Kenyon had bit the
bullet, but it didn’t stop his whoring ways. Mommy always teased that he was so
different from everyone else in the family that she wondered if he had been
switched at birth. She didn’t know the half of it. Seriously, who has that much
indiscriminate sex? It was just vile. Both Sam and Kate had been virgins when
they got married—at least, that was what Sam always claimed. Although her
mothers never discussed specifics, McKenna assumed they weren’t bonking every
girl in sight. McKenna reasoned sluts were like alcoholics—every family had to
have at least one.

After everyone was finished eating,
Kenyon and Abby wandered over to the family room to watch the TV. McKenna
preferred staying with the adults. Their conversation topics varied but often
sidetracked to the season’s fashions. As they were debating women’s handbags
versus the clutch, Abby loudly called out, “Nana, you’re on television again.”

“What? I didn’t think your latest book
was going to be released until the summer,” Sam questioned, confused as a
photograph filled the wide screen. “Abby, turn that up so we can hear.”

Hannah stared blankly at the television
set but inwardly cringed with a ball of fury. The next time she was in New York,
she was going to wring Pierre’s neck.

“A single photograph has set the fashion
world abuzz, sparking the rumors that Hannah Fairbanks is coming out of
retirement. Fashion designers and magazine editors around the globe are set to wage
a bidding war of historic portions to be the first to capture this elusive
beauty. Here to tell us more is our fashion correspondent, Rory Jan. Rory, what
can you tell us?”

“Turn that off,” Hannah hissed.

“There has been no official word from
Miss Fairbank’s publicist, but most industry experts agree that if she walks,
she will do so for Gustuv Christensen. What we do know is that Hannah has not
released an official photograph since she retired twenty years ago to focus on
her writing career and her two children that she shares with Willow Mallory…”

Hannah stormed across the room and turned
off the television set since no one else had listened to her. When she looked
up, she discovered that she was the center of their undivided attention, though
they were all looking up with varied expressions. None of the expressions were
as heated or hurt as McKenna’s.

“I can’t believe you,” McKenna screamed
as she stood with such force that the heavy, wood chair fell behind her.

“Oh, Hannah,” Willow groaned softly. “How
could you do this?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Hannah clipped as
she walked over to gather the dirty dishes and take them to the kitchen. Both
Willow and Sam were on her heels.

“What the hell is going on?” Sam asked.

“I took McKenna to New York last week to
meet with Pierre,” Hannah answered.

“That little French prick,” Sam
dismissed. “Why?”

“To build her portfolio,” Hannah admitted
guiltily. “I’m sorry Sam, but you never have been objective where she is
concerned.”

Willow was more worried about her
daughter than Sam’s bruised ego. “And you told me he said she was a very pretty
girl.”

“He did,” Hannah declared.

“Then why was it your photograph that was
flashed on the television?” Willow countered.

“He said she was a very pretty girl, but
that she was no Hannah Fairbanks.”

Before Willow could respond, they heard a
heartbreaking gasp. In horror, they discovered that McKenna had followed them
to the kitchen and overheard the entire conversation.

“Baby…” Hannah pleaded.

“
I hate you
!” McKenna screeched.

“McKenna, you don’t understand,” Hannah
cried as she started to follow her.

Sam reached for her hand to stop her.
“You’re the very last person she wants to talk to right now. Let me handle
this,” he said.

“Knock, knock,” Sam announced outside
McKenna’s bedroom door.

“Go away!”

Sam opened the door and walked inside
uninvited. “And miss all the fun? I heard this is where the party is.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Sam,” McKenna
cried.

His heart went out to the devastated
little princess. He had no doubt that she would bounce back from this setback
in a few days, but right now, her heart was broken. McKenna’s problem was that
she had to be the best at everything she ever did. Then again, what queen didn’t
think that way? In her mind, Hannah Fairbanks was the best, but she was
determined to be better. Reaching for a box of tissues, he walked across the
room and sat down on the bed beside her. “Princess, your mascara is running.
How many times have I told you—waterproof isn’t an option. It’s a necessity.”

McKenna sullenly reached for a tissue to
wipe her face and then for another one to blow her nose. It was on the tip of
his tongue to remind her that excessive rubbing wasn’t required and would only
cause irritation and redness, but Sam held back.

“You know, there are infinitely worse
things in this life than being told you’re not Hannah Fairbanks,” Sam
reflected. “For starters, being said you are.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“I guess not,” Sam shrugged
indifferently. “But I do know that Pierre Andre is a little French asshole. I
also know that he didn’t make her career—she made his. And frankly, I have seen
more attractive horse’s asses than some of the faces he declares beauties. He
is one photographer—not the end-all-be-all of fashion.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” McKenna hissed.
“She purposefully sabotaged my career. Now, I’ll only ever be known as
her
daughter.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sam exclaimed. “How
about you jump off the crazy train for a second? Why would she sabotage your
career?”  

“Obviously, she was just using me to
reestablish her brand.”

“McKenna,” Sam chuckled wearily. “Do you
have any idea how ridiculous that sounds? She never needed you to reestablish
anything. Her former career has always been there just waiting for her to
return. Over the years, she has turned down
millions
because she doesn’t
want that life anymore. She would never do anything to intentionally hurt you.
She loves you. Family is everything to her. Cut her a little slack—she can’t
help being what she is.”

Kenyon figured whatever Sam had said to
McKenna hadn’t made her feel all that better because she spent the rest of the
day pouting inside her room. She didn’t emerge until after their moms went out
on an emergency shopping errand. No doubt, they were buying her some fabulous consolation
prize.

He cast her only a perfunctory glance as
she walked warily past him towards the kitchen. Sometimes he couldn’t stand
McKenna. She wasn’t happy unless the whole world revolved around her. Kenyon
stopped playing her game years ago. Life would probably be better if their
parents would stop too. But no, they babied her, both of them were just as
guilty, and as a result, she had grown into a little bitch.

He heard her messing around in the
kitchen for a few minutes before she walked back into the living room, carrying
a glass of water. She was hovering over his shoulder. He hated it when she did
that. It wasn’t as if she was interested in the video game he was playing. She
was only waiting to see if he had the other players muted as their moms always
insisted he do whenever they were around. Although they both claimed to abhor
the violence, whenever Willow wasn’t around, Hannah would sometimes sit down
and play with him. She was a pretty decent gamer too and ruthless as hell.

Kenyon paused the game. Looking over his shoulder,
he groaned, “What?”

“Nothing,” McKenna hissed. “I was just
watching you play.”

“Didn’t Sam make you feel better?” he
taunted.

“Shut up, Kenyon!”

“He only pretends to take your side, you
know. He would never really go against her,” Kenyon declared.

McKenna walked around to his side of the
sofa. “Sam would never lie to me,” she spat adamantly.

“Whatever,” Kenyon retorted as he rolled
his eyes. “Sam lies all the time—like when he claims to be our
brother
.”

“I know Mommy never legally adopted him,”
McKenna said.

“God McKenna, you’re so stupid sometimes.
Have you ever stopped to wonder how you could be so much like someone that you
weren’t biologically related too?”

“What are you saying?” McKenna whispered
in horror as the implications filled her insides with a cold wave of dread.

“Sam isn’t our brother. He’s our donor.
Maybe if you would have spent some time actually looking at yourself in the
mirror and not trying to see what wasn’t there, you might have figured that out
a long time ago like I did.”

“No,” McKenna gasped. “No,” she repeated
as tears flooded her eyes and choked her throat. “You’re wrong!”

Reaching for her phone, she dialed Sam.
When he picked up, she didn’t even bother with a greeting, but instead stormed
straight into the heart of the matter. “Are you the donor?”

“What?” Sam questioned, befuddled.

“Tell me you are
not
our donor,”
McKenna screamed into the line.

Sam paused a moment too long. Hot tears
streamed down her face as she covered her mouth to hold in the gut-wrenching
sobs that threatened to overwhelm her.

“McKenna, I’m coming over. We’ll talk
about it then.”

“
No
!” McKenna screamed a few
minutes later when they stood face-to-face once again in her bedroom. Only she
wasn’t taking this lying down. She was pacing back and forth like a mad woman, pulling
at her hair. Sam had never seen her this upset.

“McKenna, please,” Sam pleaded. “You have
to understand…”

“I don’t have to
understand
anything,” McKenna screeched. “How many times, Sam? How many times have I asked
you about our donor? You knew how important this was to me, and you sat back
and said nothing. Does Abby know the truth?”

Sam clenched his jaw tight and looked away,
refusing to answer. His silence spoke volumes.

“Oh my God,” McKenna cried. “I’m the only
one that didn’t know. I am the laughingstock of this family. When I’m not
around, do you guys sit around and talk about what a stupid little fool I’ve
been?”

“McKenna,” Sam declared firmly. “You know
none of us would ever do that. When your parents came to me and said they wanted
to have a baby, Kate and I weren’t ready to have children yet. We had several
long discussions and in the end, I did it because of everything she had done
for me. She saved my life, and it didn’t feel right saying no. Had I had any
inkling someone like you would be the result, I may have reconsidered.”

“
What
!” McKenna sobbed.

“Fuck,” Sam growled. “That didn’t come
out the way I meant it.”

“
Get out
!” McKenna screamed.

“No wait…”

“
Get out
…
Get out
…
Get
out
!” McKenna raged as she began throwing anything she could get her hands
on in his direction.

As soon as Hannah and Willow walked
through the garage door, they heard the commotion drifting down from upstairs
and rushed forward. Seeing Kenyon sitting casually on the sofa playing his
game, they both came to a sudden halt.

“What’s going on?” Hannah asked.

“Take a guess,” Kenyon retorted.

Sam suddenly appeared, taking the steps
two at a time. He didn’t stop until he was in Hannah’s face. Pointing angrily
at her, he yelled, “You promised me you wouldn’t tell her until she was ready!”

“Tell her what? What are you talking
about?” Hannah asked.

“You told her about
it
,” Sam
answered.

“No,” Hannah gasped in horror as her eyes
drifted up the stairs.

“Sorry guys,” Kenyon shrugged. “I was the
one who told her.”

Before Hannah could respond, she heard a
bloodcurdling, piercing scream.

“
Mom-my
!”

Glancing back and forth between the
stairs and Sam, Hannah let out weary sigh. She patted his arm reassuringly. “She’ll
be fine.” 

Once she gone, Sam looked back and found
Willow glaring at him.

“What?” he questioned defensively.

Willow growled as she pushed past him
towards the stairs.

“W-w-why?” McKenna sobbed, crying so hard
she was practically hyperventilating.

Hannah walked in calmly and pulled her in
her arms. McKenna struggled for several moments, trying to pull away, until she
eventually grew limp in her mother’s arms. “Calm down, McKenna. Just breathe,”
Hannah whispered as she stroked her hair and led her towards the bed.

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“We were going to tell you when you were
ready,” Hannah answered evenly.

“I’m eighteen,” McKenna sobbed.

“And clearly not ready,” Hannah said as
she pulled down the blankets. “You need to lie down for a bit. You’ve had a
very bad day.”

Once McKenna was settled, Hannah stretched
out behind her and stroked her hair. She spotted Willow anxiously pacing
outside her bedroom and waved her away. Willow was fully equipped to handle a
wide range of emotional reactions but hysterics had never been her forte.

“Your mom and I were desperate to have a
baby. In fact, I don’t think there have ever been two babies who were wanted
more than you and Kenyon.”

“Sam didn’t want me. He said so,” McKenna
declared.

“That isn’t what he meant. You know his
words get jumbled when he is upset,” Hannah denied. “But I couldn’t just let
any sperm go into your mom. I wanted it to come from someone I knew, someone I
trusted, someone I loved very much. I wanted to be as much as part of you as
possible, and that couldn’t happen from some random stranger. The day we
discovered she was pregnant with you and Kenyon was the happiest day of my life—until
the day you were born.”

“You still should have told me before
now,” McKenna cried.

“We were. That was the plan. We were
going to be open and very modern about everything, but…”

“But what?” McKenna demanded.

“But I stopped it,” Hannah admitted
quietly.

“Why? Why would you do this to me?”

“It was never because of you—it was
because of Sam. He fell head over heels in love with you the moment he saw you.
How could he not? You look just like him. You talk just like him. You two have
identical mannerisms. The two of you are so connected that you can finish each
other’s sentences. By the time you and Kenyon were old enough to start asking
questions, Abby had been born. And…” Hannah paused as she thought of a way to
properly vocalize the impressions that she had kept to herself. “…I realize
that in your eyes Sam can do no wrong…”

“Sam is a lying asshole,” McKenna
declared.

“All right, well, I do realize you feel
that way now, but that is a relatively new emotion. The thing about Sam is that
fatherhood has always been a struggle for him. It doesn’t come naturally. I
knew he would never able to acknowledge the role as father-in-name-only,
especially for you. So, I thought it was best he didn’t acknowledge it all.
Think of it as a beehive.”

“Oh God, Mommy,” McKenna groaned. “Are
you going to take up beekeeping?”

“No,” Hannah said flatly. “I’m not, but I
do know that there can only be one queen in a hive. If there are two queens,
they will spend all their time trying to destroy each other. I realize you and
Sam wouldn’t have been that extreme, but the two of you are so like-minded you
would have fought incessantly. I wasn’t purposefully deceiving you—I was trying
to preserve your relationship with Sam.”

McKenna didn’t care. She didn’t care
about Sam. She didn’t care about Hannah. The two people she trusted and admired
more than anyone else in the whole world had been lying to her since the day
she was born. She didn’t care about anything except hurting them both the way
they had hurt her.

The piercing screams had quieted down to
a few muffled whispers. Sam couldn’t hear what Hannah was saying but whatever
it was seemed to calm McKenna down. He reasoned that must be progress of sorts,
but he didn’t feel any relief. In frustration, he ran his fingers through his
hair. What on God’s earth had possessed Kenyon to tell her?
Oh fuck! Kenyon
is McKenna’s twin.
It wasn’t as if he had forgotten that fact—all right, maybe
for a second there he had, but the twins were as different as night and day. So,
if Kenyon knew he was McKenna’s biological father then he knew…

Sam walked over and sat down on the sofa
beside him. “You know, Kenyon, if there is ever anything you want to discuss,
I’m here for you.”

Kenyon paused his game and looked up
thoughtfully. “Thanks Sam. I appreciate that. Good talk,” he said and ended
with a fist bump.

Inwardly, Sam rolled his eyes. That was
ten seconds of needless doubt and worry. What had he possibly been thinking?
Kenyon had emerged from the womb with the mentality of a fully rational adult.

“Hey, there is something actually,”
Kenyon added, sounding almost uncertain. “I was wondering if maybe sometime you
could teach me how to take photographs?”

“Sure, anytime.”

Kate was waiting up for Sam when he came
home. “How did it go?” she asked worriedly.

“Well, I think I would honestly rather
have a vasectomy without an anesthetic than have to go through that again.”

“That bad,” Kate commiserated. “What
about Kenyon?”

“Kenyon was fine. A nuclear bomb could
explode in his front yard, and Kenyon would be fine. He was the one who told
McKenna.”

“How did he know?”

“I guess he just figured it out,” Sam
groaned. “So, it is official now. I
am
the worst father of the year. My
daughter hates me. My…” Sam struggled to come up with the right word, “…other
whatever hates me too.”

“Abby and McKenna both just need some
time.”

“No,” Sam declared adamantly. “It’s
karma. It’s payback for what a little shit I was to my dad. I know somewhere he
is looking down, rolling with laughter.”