Son Choosing Fathers Mistress Over Me

The first grade class group posted my son's award-winning full-score essay..

Every word overflowed with a child's genuine love and sincerity.

I flicked a strand of my fiery red waves out of my eyes and asked the manicurist to unlock my phone for me.

My mom always pins her jet-black hair up neatly, to keep it out of the way while cooking. Her nails are always clipped short and clean.

"Her palms are a little rough because she works so hard taking care of me every day."

"When I had a high fever at three years old in the middle of the night, she carried me to the hospital. She was too rush to bring her coat."

The other parents flooded the chat with praise for his writing.

It was well-written. Except not a single word described me. It sounded exactly like our nanny, Claire Reynolds.

When I walked through the door, Liam Murphy, my son, actually ran over and hugged my leg for once, asking cautiously,

"Mom... for the award ceremony parent-teacher conference... could Claire go instead?"

"Or... you could go... but could you maybe not say you're my mom?"

Seeing his little face trying so hard to hide his true wish made me laugh.

I crouched down, ruffled his hair, and smiled.

"Sure. Let Claire be your mom then."

"Really? Awesome!"

But why did he cry so much when he actually got to be the nanny's son?

...

Liam skipped into the kitchen and hugged Claire, who was cooking.

"Claire! Awesome! You can be my mom for the parent-teacher conference!"

"It smells amazing! Did you make lobster thermidor again? My favorite!"

Claire smiled gently, patted Liam's head, and picked the biggest piece of lobster from the pan to feed him.

"So yummy! Claire, you're so nice and you cook the best food! I want you to be my mom forever!"

Hearing this, Liam Murphy Sr., my husband, chuckled and scooped Liam up.

"Buddy, you can't say things like that. It might hurt Mommy's feelings."

Despite his words, Liam Sr.'s eyes held nothing but approval. He seemed to agree with his words.

Liam wiggled his little finger, asking innocently,

"But Daddy, you always say Claire is great too! I like her! I don't like Mommy!"

"You like Claire too, Daddy!"

"Shh, buddy," Liam Sr. whispered, carrying him further into the kitchen, away from me.

"We don't say that stuff where Mommy can hear. That's just between us."

I admired my fresh manicure and shook my head.

Men. It doesn't matter how old they are, they all love their little daydreams.

Then I called towards the kitchen,

"Liam, stop playing! You should finish your homework and then practice piano?"

"Ugh... okay..."

He trudged out, head down, muttering under his breath as he passed me,

"I hate practicing piano! You're the worst mom ever!"

Claire put down her spatula and came out, giving me a polite smile.

Then she guided Liam towards the music room,

She said softly, "Come on, Liam, sweetie. How about I sit with you while you practice?"

"Yay! Then it won't be boring! I can practice for two... no! Three hours!"

He held up three little fingers, making sure I saw it, practically flaunting Claire's kindness.

Adorably childish.

Friday arrived. I pulled up to the elementary school in my brand-new cherry-red sports car.

Instantly, curious kids swarmed it.

Only Liam stood there, pouting, looking miserable. He stomped right up to me and complained.

"Mom! You said Claire could come to the conference! Why are you here?"

"You lied! You're a bad mom! I hate you! Go away!"

He swung his little fist at me, hitting my stomach hard enough to actually sting.

I caught his wrist and gently pushed him back. I said firmly,

"Liam Murphy. How many times have I told you? Dont hit people. Ever. Especially not your mother!"

He stood there, head down, fists clenched so tight that he looked like a little pufferfish about to explode.

I couldn't help but find it somewhat amusing, and that was what made me soften my tone to comfort him.

"I'm not here for your conference. Claire is coming."

His fists instantly unclenched. He blinked up at me, a wave of relief washing over him.

More kids gathered, ogling my car with wide eyes.

Just then, Claire pulled up on her scooter beside us, calling out,

"Liam! Sorry I'm late!"

Liam's eyes lit up like fireworks, and he tried to bolt towards her.

But the other kids blocked his way. One who knew him asked, eyes wide,

"Whoa! That car is so cool! Liam, is that your mom?"

He frowned, looking from the car to me, then back to the car.

He seemed to make a big decision and shook his head firmly.

"No! She's not my mom!"

With that, he beamed and launched himself into Claire's arms.

"Mom! You're finally here!"

Liam snuggled into Claire's embrace, shooting a triumphant look at the other kids with pure pride on his face.

But the kids eyed Claire's scooter, their expressions turning dismissive.

Suddenly, a familiar voice piped up from the back of the crowd.

He yelled as he ran towards me: "Auntie!"

It was my best friend's son, Kyle.

I scooped him up and spun him around. He giggled with delight.

"Auntie! What are you doing here?"

"Your mom was busy, so she asked me to come to your conference!"

"Really? Awesome! Hey guys, this is my auntie! Shes the most beautiful."

Kyle turned to the other kids, introducing me, his chest puffed out with pride.

The kids' jaws dropped, eyes full of envy.

"Wow! Your auntie is so pretty! And that car is awesome!"

Suddenly, Kyle and I were surrounded. Liam stood outside the circle, frozen for a few seconds.

Then, he pulled Claire and walked through the school gate as if out of spite..

Kyle held my hand as we walked to his classroom, excitedly pointing out everything.

He even insisted I sit in his seat.

Coincidentally, his desk was right behind Liam and Claire.

Liam kept twisting around, shooting Kyle and me awkward and jealous glances.

Then he deliberately climbed onto Claire's lap, snuggling in close, making a show of their affection.

When it was time for awards, the teacher smiled at Liam and asked who his attending parant was.

He immediately tugged Claire forward, beaming.

"Teacher, this is my mom! She's the one I wrote about in my essay!"

The teacher looked Claire up and down, then offered a flattering smile.

"Oh my! So this is your mother! She certainly has an elegant presence!"

"She looks like exactly like you described in your wonderful essay! Liam, not only did you get a perfect score, you won first prize!"

She reached out and shook Claire's hand.

Nearby parents murmured amongst themselves.

"Tsk tsk, look at Mrs. Murphy, shes so elegant, shes definitely from a distinguished family."

"Not like that woman next to her with the big red waves and those ridiculous nails. She doesn't look like a mother at all. Probably She doesn't lift a finger at home, just preens."

"Seriously, dressing like that at her age? What does she even do?"

"Probably some kind of... you know. Maybe a mistress kept by a rich man?"

Kyle frowned, ready to snap back. I squeezed his shoulder and shook my head.

Whatever. Let them talk. Arguing just makes you look guilty.

Unexpectedly, Liam turned around and chimed in with the gossiping parents.

"Yeah! My mom has real class! Some tacky woman like that doesn't deserve to be my mom!"

He tilted his chin up, looking smug.

Claire quickly covered his mouth, offering apologetic nods to the surrounding parents.

Though her words were clearly aimed at me:

"So sorry, everyone. Kids words are just innocent chatter"

But the smug glint in her eyes was impossible to miss.

I looked up at her calmly.

"Well, its not innocent, its rude."

The teacher frowned at me, displeased.

"Excuse me? How could you say that? Parents should set an example! Dressing like some fashion plate, how can you expect your child to focus on learning?"

She deliberately looked me and Kyle up and down, her expression dripping with disdain.

"Such irresponsible and disgraceful behavior will only be a bad influence on the children."

Her words hung in the air. The other parents side-eyed me.

It felt like confirmation of their earlier whispers about me being a mistress.

After humiliating us, the teacher turned her smile back on Claire.

"Not like our Mrs. Murphy here! You've raised such an outstanding child, and you generously donated to our school..."

Claire basked in the praise, but interrupted before the teacher could finish.

"Mrs Smith, I'm not Mrs. Murphy. My name is Claire Reynolds."

The teacher froze, mouth agape, looking at Liam.

He nodded helpfully. "Yeah! My mom's name is Claire Reynolds!"

The teacher looked utterly bewildered.

Liam Murphy's mother was Stella Murphy, heiress to the Sterling fortune, who'd donated the school library! Who was this Claire Reynolds?

She scanned the room, flustered. "Then... Ms. Stella Murphy is...?"

I offered a cool smile. "That would be me."

"And the one who donated the library was also...?"

I nodded. "Me. But..."

"You just questioned the source of my funds, so I considered the donation was rescinded."

With that, I stood up, took Kyle's hand, and walked out.

Rain started pouring down the moment we stepped outside.

I quickly bundled Kyle under my trench coat and ran for the car.

Claire struggled into a rain coat, urging Liam to duck under it with her.

But Liam stared at the scooter, refusing to budge.

"I don't wanna get wet! I wanna ride in Mom's car!"

He sprinted over to my car and stood waiting expectantly.

He looked up at me. "Mom! Open the door!"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Isn't your mom over there? Why do you want to ride in my car?"

Liam tugged playfully at my coat belt, begging,

"Stop teasing, Mom! The conference is over! Let me in!"

Kyle snatched my coat belt back in his hand, frowning in confusion.

"You just told everyone Claire was your mom! Now you don't want to get wet, so you want her to be your mom again?"

Other kids gathered, starting to chant.

"Liar, liar! He wont even claim his mom for a ride!"

"Liam's a big faker! Shameless! Nya nya nya!"

They circled him, scraping their fingers down their cheeks in the universal "shame" gesture.

Liam puffed out his chest defiantly.

"This is my mom! This car is ours!"

"Hey! You said in class she wasn't good enough to be your mom?"

"Yeah! You yelled it! You said your mom was Claire! And you called her trash!"

"Now you want the trash to be your mom so you don't get wet!"

Liam couldn't argue against the chorus. He stood there, red-faced, breathing hard.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked at me pleadingly.

I gently pushed him aside.

"Go find your mom. Don't block the way. Kyle and I are going out for a fancy dinner."

I pinched Kyle's cheek, smiling.

"You were great today, Kyle. Lets go for a feast!"

I buckled Kyle into the passenger seat. As I started the engine, Liam, fists clenched, stood beside Claire and yelled.

"Restaurant food sucks! I don't care about your stupid dinner! Claire makes the best food!"

"Hmph! She'll make all my favorites to celebrate my award! I don't want you as my mom anymore!"

He yelled, wiping rain (or tears) from his face. So pathetic.

I hit the gas and pulled onto the street.

Kyle patted my shoulder, trying to comfort me.

"Auntie, don't be sad... I bet your cooking is good too. Even though I've never had it."

I chuckled and gave his chin a gentle pinch..

Truthfully, I wasn't upset at all.

And I was absolutely certain Liam wouldn't be eating any of his favorite dishes tonight.

Because all those premium ingredients C the seafood he loved C were ordered and paid for by me, direct from suppliers. Claire just cooked them.

I drove home later that night, pleasantly full.

But before I could even open the door, I saw Liam and Liam Sr. furiously throwing my designer handbags out onto the porch.

"What are you doing?!"

My sharp tone startled Liam. He froze with one of my bags C last season's LV, worn twice C in his hand.

Liam Sr. snatched it from him and hurled it onto the pile, scolding me.

"What are we doing? What were you doing?"

"It was pouring rain! You left your son stranded! Claire had to bring him back on that scooter! He caught a cold! Did you even care?"

"What kind of mother are you?"