The Perfect Child

by Berry, Lucinda

  “We’re going to have two kids. Can you believe it, Christopher? Two kids!”

  He got up from the couch, walked over to my chair, and perched on the armrest. He gazed down at me. “I’ve never seen you look happier, and I’m pretty sure there’s nothing I love more in this world than seeing you happy.”

  THIRTY

  CHRISTOPHER BAUER

  It was a bad idea to have Janie at the baby shower. I didn’t want to be here either. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t take Janie for the day while they did their thing, but Hannah insisted we come. All the husbands were invited. Baby showers were no longer women-only events, but I wouldn’t mind going back to when they had been.

  Usually Hannah turned into a basket case whenever we had a big party or event at the house, but since Lillian and Allison were throwing the shower, she didn’t have to do much except relax and enjoy herself. She sat in the living room with her feet propped up on our embroidered stool while Lillian and Allison bustled around the house taking care of things. Her feet had swollen up as soon as she’d hit the six-month mark. Janie ran room to room trying to get people’s attention.

  “Janie, can you go outside and play so Grandma and Aunt Allison can work?” Hannah asked from her position in the living room.

  “I wanna help!” She stomped her feet and crossed her arms. I watched from my spot on the couch in the living room to see what Janie would do.

  “Sweetie, why don’t you go outside and play with your daddy?” Lillian shot me a pointed look.

  I’d tried helping earlier in the day, but I’d gotten pushed out of the way just like Janie. I tucked my phone in the back pocket of my jeans. “Let’s go swing, sweetheart,” I said, getting up and heading toward the back door.

  She didn’t move from her spot in the kitchen.

  “Janie, we don’t have time for this. Come on. Let’s just go outside and play. We can do whatever you want,” I said.

  “I wanna help,” she said. She stuck out her lower lip in an exaggerated pout.

  Lillian handed her one of the balloons she’d just blown up. “Here, take this and play with it outside. You can throw it up and play catch.”

  Janie snatched it from her. She glared at her, then promptly squeezed her hands together and popped the balloon, making us all jump.

  “Janie, that wasn’t nice,” Hannah said.

  “You’re not nice,” Janie fired back.

  We were one step away from a battle. I quickly scooped Janie up and threw her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I tickled her legs while we walked and brought her outside. Sometimes it worked and diverted one of her meltdowns, but her face was still set in stone when we reached the yard.

  Her behavior didn’t get any better as the day wore on. Janie scowled at people as they filed into the house and greeted Hannah. She barely spoke to my mom when she arrived and refused to respond when people spoke to her. She popped any balloon she could get her hands on, continually startling people. Everyone tried to laugh it off, but it didn’t take long for it to become annoying. At first, we ignored her like we did with so much of her attention-seeking behavior, but we had to step in when she went over to the cake. It was a three-layer tower made of cupcakes and almost as elaborate as our wedding cake. It probably cost as much.

  “Janie, no!” I yelled when I spotted her reaching for one of the cupcakes.

  She pretended like she hadn’t heard me. Everyone stared as she grabbed a cupcake from the center and pulled it out. I held my breath, waiting for the cake to tumble. Thankfully, it didn’t.

  “Stop it!” Hannah said. “If you’re not going to behave during the party, then you can go to your room.” She pointed down the hallway that led to Janie’s bedroom.

  I looked at Hannah in surprise. We’d never sent Janie to her room before. It was such a normal way to discipline a child, but what would Janie do in there by herself? It’d been a while since she’d had a full-on meltdown, and I really wanted to avoid it, especially when our house was full of people.

  Janie bit into the cupcake, and her mouth filled with yellow frosting. She grinned at Hannah, the yellow staining her teeth. “You’re going to be a bad mommy.”

  Hannah recoiled like Janie had punched her in the gut. She brought both hands up to her face and covered her mouth. Everyone in the kitchen started talking at once to break the tension and pretend like they hadn’t heard what Janie had said.

  I grabbed Janie’s arm and dragged her through the living room. She started screaming as we moved through people. “You’re hurting me, Daddy! You’re hurting me!”

  I just kept going, my face red with embarrassment and anger. I shoved her in the room and slammed the door behind us.

  “Don’t you ever say anything like that to Mommy again!” I was fuming. I’d never been so mad at her.

  She threw herself down on the floor, sobbing.

  “Stop it, Janie. Just stop,” I hissed. Everyone at the party could hear her, which only made her cries seem louder.

  She beat her fists against the floor. Her wails came one on top of another; she wasn’t even pausing long enough to breathe. Usually my heart ached for her when she was upset, but I was too angry over what she’d said to Hannah to help. I hurt for Hannah. This day meant so much to her, and Janie had ruined it.

  Janie’s cries shifted from angry rage to sobs of devastation. “I’m a bad girl. I’m a bad, bad, bad girl!” she cried.

  Her self-deprecation tugged at my heartstrings, and my anger started dissipating. This had to be hard for her. She didn’t understand that the baby wouldn’t take us away from her and that there was enough of our love to go around. She was just hurting. More of my anger drained. She was still curled on the floor, shaking.

  I plopped down next to her and reached for her, but she jerked away. She curled into a ball. “You’re not a bad girl. You just made a bad choice. That’s all. Just a bad choice.” I rubbed her back until the sobs subsided. “Everyone makes bad choices sometimes. It’s going to be okay.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  HANNAH BAUER

  My stomach churned as we walked into Janie’s school for our meeting with Mrs. Tinney to discuss Janie’s behavior. She’d been acting out since the shower three weeks ago. My due date was two weeks away. What would I do if Janie got kicked out of another preschool?

  Mrs. Tinney’s classroom looked like the classrooms I’d grown up in. There was a huge carpet in the center of the room for the children to gather during circle time. Cubbies lined the back wall with the children’s names neatly labeled on each one. Stations were set up around the room for various activities, and the walls proudly displayed the kids’ artwork.

  I was too big to squeeze into any of the miniature chairs, so I stood while Christopher and Mrs. Tinney sat. It made the situation more awkward and uncomfortable than it already was.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked before getting started.

  “Ready to have this baby.” I smiled, trying to be polite, but I really wanted to know why we were there.

  “Those last few weeks seem to drag on forever. Not to mention that all three of my kids were overdue,” she said.

  “Ugh, let’s hope this one comes on time.” I rubbed my hand on my swollen bump instinctively, just like I did anytime someone mentioned the baby.

  She laid her hands on the desk. “Normally, I would’ve called you in for a conference as soon as we noticed Janie struggling, but since you were expecting another child, I figured her problems were just part of that transition and would pass. Only children almost always have problems when another member is being added to the family.”

  Janie was reverting back to behavior we hadn’t seen in months. She went into uncontrollable screaming fits almost every day. She refused to eat and threw food at us, yelling for something different and claiming she’d throw up if she had to eat it. She’d started having accidents again, but this time she had them at home and school. She’d always hoarded food in her room underneath her bed,
but now she’d started adding all kinds of weird objects that didn’t make any logical sense—Christopher’s shoes, the remote control, paper towels from the kitchen—and lied when we confronted her about it. Dr. Chandler said we should ignore it like we’d done before, but it wasn’t working this time.

  “I wanted to meet today so I could let you know that Elodie’s mother is expecting a call from you about what’s going on between Elodie and Janie at school. I wanted us to have a chance to talk about that conversation before it happened.”

  “What’s going on with her and Elodie?” Christopher asked. His face was lined with concern. Janie referred to Elodie as her best friend. We’d never heard about any problems.

  “Elodie started asking to stay inside during recess, which was my first red flag. I couldn’t let her do that, since all children have to be outside during recess, but I watched her closely and noticed she cried a lot while we were on the playground. Whenever I asked her about it, she said that Janie was being mean.”

  “What was Janie doing to her?” I asked.

  “Elodie wouldn’t say what she was doing—only that she was mean. I took Janie aside and asked her about it, too, but she said she didn’t know why Elodie was so upset. It wasn’t anything that was unusual; kids fight and get their feelings hurt all the time. But then Elodie started refusing to play with Janie. It seemed like more than your typical spat. Elodie was genuinely afraid of Janie.” She looked back and forth between us before continuing, making sure we were digesting what she’d said. “Elodie’s mother called me this morning and told me Janie has been hurting Elodie at school. She’s been coming home with bruises. Her mother didn’t think anything of it at first, but it kept happening, and she grew more concerned. Last night, she noticed Elodie’s entire arm was covered in bruises. She finally got her to talk, and Elodie said that Janie pinches her when no one is looking.”

  A chill ran down my neck. Janie had gotten in trouble at her previous preschools, but she’d never hurt anyone on purpose. It took Christopher a while to speak.

  “Are you sure it’s her?” he asked.

  “Positive. I asked Janie about it yesterday, and she admitted it.”

  “She admitted it? What’d she say when you asked her about it?” I asked. She hadn’t said anything to me about it when I’d picked her up from school. She’d acted totally normal.

  “She said she wanted to make Elodie cry. When I asked her why she wanted to make her cry, she said that she likes to see what people look like when they cry.” Mrs. Tinney’s face was grim. I’d never seen her look so serious.

  “Did she say anything else?” Christopher asked.

  “No. That was it. I explained to her that it was not okay to make other people cry for any reason.” She sat back in her chair and folded her hands on her lap. “As you can imagine, her mother is very angry. She wants Janie expelled from the school. I don’t want to expel Janie. I really don’t. I tend to think she’s going through a rough time with the new baby—”

  “She is. We’ve had all sorts of problems at home too,” Christopher interrupted.

  Mrs. Tinney nodded. “That’s what I assumed. However, because Janie has been violent to another student, if the other parent is uncomfortable with her being here, then we will have to ask her to leave.”

  “Is that why you called us here? Are you kicking her out?” I asked. My head whirled. What would I do if they kicked her out? Could I get her into another school before the baby got here? What were the other ones on the list?

  “Would you be comfortable telling Elodie’s mother about Janie’s history?” She leaned forward. “The only reason I’m asking is because I don’t want to lose Janie. She’s a great girl and an absolute joy to have in class. She’s just struggling right now, and I want to help her rather than punish her. It might help Elodie’s mother be more compassionate if you shared her history.”

  “So if she doesn’t insist on expelling Janie, then you’re saying she can stay?” Christopher asked.

  “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do if you think it will help,” Christopher said.

  I wanted Janie to stay at the school as much as Christopher, even more, but something about telling Elodie’s mom about Janie’s past didn’t feel right to me. I listened as Christopher and Dr. Chandler prattled on about ideas for the conversation, but I grew more uncomfortable the longer they went on.

  Our walk home after our session was slow since my feet were so swollen, but it felt good to be outside. Before too much longer, it’d be too cold to be outside. I’d tried to keep it in during the session, but I couldn’t any longer. “Telling Elodie’s mother feels like we’re using Janie’s past as an excuse for her behavior.”

  “It’s not an excuse.”

  “Really? The only reason we’re telling her is so that Janie doesn’t get kicked out of school.”

  “That’s not true. We’re telling her so that she has all the information she needs to make an informed decision.” He spoke like he did when he was instructing interns.

  “Please, Christopher, come on. We wouldn’t even consider telling her unless there was a reason.”

  He shook his head, unmoving.

  “Would you tell another student’s mom about Janie?”

  “That’s not the point,” he snapped.

  “Just answer my question.”

  “It’s not what we’re talking about.”

  I pulled my hand out of his, irritated by his continual refusal to make Janie accountable for her behavior. “It’s exactly what we’re talking about. Answer the question.”

  “No.”

  “You know I’m right.”

  “I don’t want to fight.”

  “Oh my God!” I couldn’t keep the anger out of my voice. I sounded hysterical, but I didn’t care. I was so tired of him backing out of difficult discussions because he claimed he didn’t want to fight. “You know what, Christopher? Sometimes you have to fight.”

  I stomped off in front of him, leaving him trailing behind on the sidewalk. I knew I looked ridiculous—nine months pregnant, huffing and puffing down the sidewalk, clearly fighting with my husband—but I didn’t care. He didn’t speak to me when we got back to the house. He grabbed his keys and went to pick up Janie from Allison’s. I had calmed down by the time he returned, but I still felt the same way about telling Elodie’s mom because I didn’t want to set a precedent for Janie’s poor behavior being excused because of her background.

  Christopher settled Janie in front of the TV and came to talk to me in the kitchen. I was chopping up the vegetables to use in the stir-fry for dinner.

  “You feeling better?” he asked.

  “You mean am I still mad at you?”

  He grinned. “Yes . . .”

  I set the knife down and looked him in the eye. “I’m not mad at you anymore, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve changed my mind. Hurting someone else is unacceptable, and Janie needs to know that. The only way she’ll ever get that is if she’s held accountable for her actions. Any other child would be kicked out of school for what she did.”

  “And letting her get kicked out of school is helpful how?”

  “Look, I don’t want her to get kicked out of school any more than you do. Trust me. It’s the last thing I want right now, but we have to set a precedent for this kind of behavior. All we ever say is that we want her to be treated like a normal child. You can’t have it both ways, Christopher.”

  “You don’t know the full story. We haven’t even talked to her. How do we know she was hurting her on purpose?”

  I slapped my hand on the counter. “Are you kidding me? She pinched her hard enough to leave bruises. More than one time. She absolutely knew she was hurting her.”

  “We don’t know that.”

  I threw my hands up in frustration. “I’m not doing it.”

  “Fine. I’ll do it. Where’s the number?”

  I grabbed the contact information from my
purse and handed it to him. He tucked it into his pocket.

  “I’ll call her after we talk to Janie,” he said. “I want to make sure we have Janie’s story before I have any more conversations about what she did.”

  He waited until after dinner to talk to Janie about the Elodie incident because she was always happiest after she’d eaten. Allison had sent home fresh-baked brownies, and we each had one for dessert.

  “We want to talk to you about school,” Christopher said.

  “Okay,” Janie said, licking the chocolate frosting off the top of her brownie.

  “We had a meeting with Mrs. Tinney today, and she told us that you’ve been hurting Elodie by pinching her. Why are you pinching Elodie?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I already told Mrs. Tinney. I wanted to see what she looked like when she cried.”

  “But why? Why would you want to make her cry?” Christopher asked.

  Her lower lip trembled, and she looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

  “It’s not okay to make people cry. You can’t do that,” Christopher said, trying his best to sound stern. “You’re not going to be able to go to school if you keep hurting Elodie. Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  He called Elodie’s mom, but it didn’t matter anyway. Two days later, Janie pushed Elodie off the slide, and Elodie broke her arm in two places. The school had no choice but to expel Janie.

  THIRTY-TWO

  CHRISTOPHER BAUER