My Stepkids Didn’t Know I Could Hear Them Through The Baby Monitor They Forgot Was On. I Was Folding Laundry In The Basement When I Heard…
My stepkids didn’t know I could hear them through the baby monitor, and as I listened to them laughing about my pain, I began to realize their rejection of me might be far more deliberate than I ever imagined.
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My stepkids didn’t know I could hear them through the baby monitor they had forgotten was still switched on. I was folding laundry in the basement when Chloe’s voice suddenly came through the receiver sitting on the dryer, so clearly that it sounded as though she were standing beside me.
She was laughing about my reaction when Derek, my husband, announced that we would spend Christmas at my mother’s house.
Chloe said I had looked ready to cry.
Then Nathan joined in.
Their laughter was sharp and cruel.
Chloe was seventeen, and Nathan was fifteen. They had been my stepchildren for three years, and I had spent those years trying to make them feel loved and welcome.
The monitor had been installed in Nathan’s room six months earlier, when their grandmother stayed with us after hip surgery.
Nobody had remembered to remove it.
Now, standing in the basement with Derek’s jeans in my hands, I was hearing what they said about me when they thought nobody was listening.
Nathan mocked how desperately I tried to make them like me.
I stood motionless.
Three years of cooking their favorite meals, driving them to appointments, helping with homework, and attending school events suddenly felt painfully different.
I had believed their coldness might eventually disappear.
I had kept showing up, hoping patience would make us a family.
But the voices coming through that little receiver told a very different story.
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Chloe lowered her voice, but the monitor captured every word.
Their mother had apparently told them to wait another two years, until Chloe reached college.
After that, they could practically ignore me.
Chloe believed Derek would choose his children over me if they ever forced him to decide.
Nathan responded, and Chloe laughed again.
She said their mother doubted I would last another year.
Then she mentioned Danielle.
Danielle had been Derek’s girlfriend before me.
According to Chloe, Danielle had lasted only eight months.
Both teenagers laughed.
Derek had always explained that Danielle couldn’t handle the responsibilities of dating a single father.
For the first time, I wondered whether there was another explanation.
My stepkids didn’t know I could hear them through the baby monitor, and their conversation was making me question everything I thought I understood about our family.
Then Nathan asked Chloe a strange question.
Had she planted the thing yet?
Chloe answered that she had.
It was in my bathroom cabinet.
Their mother had apparently instructed them to wait until after the holidays before arranging for Derek to discover it.
Nathan seemed excited about how his father would react.
My hands went cold.
What had they put in my bathroom?
And why did their mother want Derek to find it?
I dropped the jeans onto the basement floor and climbed the stairs.
Derek was at work and wouldn’t return for another three hours.
I walked into our bedroom, opened the bathroom cabinet, and moved my toiletries aside.
Behind my face wash and moisturizer was a small orange prescription bottle.
I had never seen it before.
The label identified oxycodone prescribed to Jennifer Whitmore, from a pharmacy I had never visited.
I opened the bottle.
Inside were white pills.
I stared at them, struggling to understand what I had discovered.
Someone had placed prescription medication among my belongings.
And the children had just discussed making their father find it.What exactly were they planning to make Derek believe about me?
