Baby Bitch (Bitches and Queens) (2 page)

“And that is proper way to suck the juice
out of a watermelon,” Sam whispered naughtily.

Abby cleared her throat loudly to let her
parents know she was in room. Both of them turned in unison, looking very
surprised to see her standing there.

“Abby darling, I thought you had to stay
after school for honor club,” Kate said with a bright smile.

Abby wasn’t buying it. “It was
cancelled,” she answered drily.

“Wonderful,” Kate exclaimed. “We were
just about to have dinner.”

Abby strolled past them, casting only a
minute glance at her father before looking away. “I’m not really hungry,” she
denied as she reached for the bowl of fruit salad left over from the night
before. “I’ll just eat in my room. I don’t want to interrupt
whatever
…”

After she had gone, Sam left out a quiet
groan and then handed Kate back her panties, which he had confiscated only a
few moments ago. “You might want these back.”

“Nah, they’re wet. I’ll just find a clean
pair,” she playfully teased and then frowned at his lack of reaction. “Come on,
Sam. It’s hardly the first time she has seen you like this.”

“I know that,” he said with disgust. “But
she hates it. Besides, I’m getting too old to dress in drag.”

“Well, I’m not too old. I’ll just tell
her you do it for me—to indulge my secret lesbian fantasies.”

“Please don’t,” Sam retorted. “I do not
want to explain what a lesbian is.”

“Abby is fourteen years old. I think she
has already figured that one out, especially considering her nanas,” Kate
countered.

“I told her they were just very good
friends that happened to share a house,” Sam admitted.

“And a bedroom—not to mention two
children,” she challenged. “Abby isn’t a baby anymore. I know you don’t like to
think about it, but she knows more than you think.”

“She will always be a sweet, little,
innocent child in my mind and nothing you can say will convince me otherwise,”
Sam adamantly declared.

The next morning when Abby went
downstairs for breakfast before school, she was immensely relieved that her
father was once again a man. She hated it when he dressed up. It was the reason
she could never spontaneously bring friends back to her house. If word ever got
out that her dad occasionally dressed up like a woman, she would never be able
to show her face at school again.

Abby wasn’t like the twins, who seemingly
didn’t care what people had to say about their parents. Although they were
seniors and she was only in eighth grade, Abby had heard the rumors. McKenna
and Kenyon were two of the most popular students in school so obviously, their
gay parents hadn’t affected their social status, but Abby was different. She
was shy, quiet, and did care about what people had to say. Apparently, she was
the only one in this whole family that did.

“Isn’t the father/daughter dance coming
up soon?” Sam asked, trying to break the ice.

“Yeah, I guess,” Abby shrugged
indifferently as she poured a bowl of cereal.

“We should really start planning,” Sam
said. A few years back, he had taken McKenna to that very same dance, and they
had had a blast coordinating their outfits. He was hoping it would be a way to
reconnect with his daughter. When she was a little girl, Abby was all about her
father, but as the years passed, she became increasingly more distant. Sam knew
what the problem was. She wanted him to be
normal.

“The girls aren’t really doing that now,”
Abby denied without looking his way.

“They aren’t going to the dance?” Sam questioned,
surprised. “I thought it was some sort of long-standing tradition.”

“No, they go, but they don’t take their
dads,” Abby corrected.

“Oh, I see.”

“What’s going on?” Kate questioned as she
stepped into the kitchen.

“Nothing,” they both said in unison.

Kate was waiting for her daughter by the
front door as soon as she came home from school. She started the interrogation
bluntly and to the point. “Why don’t you want to take your father to the
dance?”

“He told you I said that?”

“No,” Kate corrected. “He told me what
you said to him this morning. Contrary to what you might believe, we are both
perfectly capable of reading between the lines.”

Abby slammed her backpack down on the
floor and tried to walk pass, but Kate reached for her arm to stop her. “This
conversation isn’t finished.”

“You have no idea what it’s like,” Abby
cried out. “Your parents are normal.”

“What are you trying to imply—that we
aren’t normal?”

“Oh my God,” Abby groaned as she rolled
her eyes. “Half the time when I come down for dinner, I don’t know if I am
going to have a mother and a father or two moms.”

“Abigail Rose Montgomery,” Kate exclaimed
sternly. “You know that is not true.  Your father rarely dresses in drag, and
he is very conscientious about trying not to do in front of you.”

“But why does he have to do it all?” Abby
questioned with a trembling voice. Trying to fight back the tears, she stared
at the wall in front of her. “Why can’t he just be a normal dad and like normal
guy stuff? Why can’t he talk about watching football or messing around with one
of his cars instead of eyeliners and women’s handbags?” Embarrassed and angry
by her emotional display, Abby shrugged her arm free and stormed past Kate. As
she was taking the stairs two at a time, she yelled out, “The only normal
person on this side of the family is Nana Hannah. At least she acts like a
grandma.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Kate
walked to the kitchen as she wondered what to do next. She didn’t have a
rulebook for how to handle emotionally distressed teenage girls. Even if she
did, Kate had serious doubts that it would address this particular situation.

 It wasn’t as if she couldn’t understand
Abigail’s point of view. Abby was very shy, very sensitive to what other people
thought, and very much like her father. That was what Abby was failing to
comprehend. She didn’t understand that it was his way to overcome those same
insecurities. Abby only saw it as some weird, sexual deviance.

If Kate told Sam how truly upset it made
Abby, he would stop in an instant. Sam would do anything for his daughter. She
was his world. But the thought of Sam without drag made her grieve—like saying
a final good-bye to a very dear friend.

Kate just wished Abby would realize that
her father didn’t need to be normal because he was fabulous just the way he was.

“That’s all I need,” Pierre Andre, world-famous
fashion photographer, announced.

In Hannah’s opinion, he wasn’t
necessarily the best at what he did, but he was the most critical, and his eye
was impeccable. Unfortunately, the best photographer couldn’t be objective
where McKenna was concerned.

“That’s it?” McKenna asked worriedly.

“I got everything I need,” Pierre
affirmed flatly.

“Go on and get changed, darling. I’ll
wait for you out here,” Hannah said reassuringly with a wide smile.

Once McKenna had left, Hannah turned her
probing gaze on Pierre. “Well?” she questioned.

“Your daughter is very pretty.”

Hannah’s lips puckered to a frown. Very
pretty barely began to describe McKenna. She had come into this earth very
pretty. Now she was stunningly gorgeous—poised, elegant, and refined. With her
platinum hair that was color of moonlight on ice, sultry green eyes, and full,
angel-bowed lips, there wasn’t a face working today that could outshine
McKenna. And they both knew it.

“But?” Hannah clipped coldly.

“But she isn’t Hannah Fairbanks,” Pierre
answered quietly as he picked up his camera and began shooting a few candid
pictures.

Hannah responded by turning her head to
the side. Pierre chuckled, “You don’t have a bad side. You never did.”

“Stop,” Hannah demanded as she started to
stand. She smoothed her blouse and trousers, even though both were impeccable,
and reached for her clutch.

“That kind of beauty comes along once in
a lifetime. It’s like catching a falling star,” Pierre declared.

“Falling stars burn out,” Hannah
retorted. “And that person you speak of, no longer exists.”

“Yet, she is standing right in front of
me. How odd,” Pierre murmured.

By the time McKenna returned, Hannah and
Pierre were chatting amicably. No trip to New York was complete without an
afternoon of shopping, and McKenna insisted on visiting Hannah’s first
apartment building in the city. It was close to midnight by the time they had a
chance to sit down and eat dinner at a restaurant in the airport, while waiting
to catch the red-eye flight home. McKenna knew this wouldn’t be an overnight
trip because Hannah never spent an entire night away from Willow. She said she
couldn’t sleep without her, and McKenna thought it was sweet that they had been
together so many years and were still so close.

She reached across the table and grabbed her
mommy’s hands. “I’m so glad we’re getting along again. I hate it when we
fight.”

“I do too,” Hannah murmured.

“Promise me that we won’t do it again.”

“I promise,” Hannah said earnestly and
they both started giggling.

McKenna was deliriously happy. It felt
like everything she had been working so hard for was finally falling into
place, and the fact that Hannah was there to share it with her only made it
that much more special. Although she loved both her parents equally and
wouldn’t dream of having a favorite, Mommy was
fabulous
. No one was as
fabulous as she was—well, except maybe Sam.

Hannah was so fabulous that McKenna
actually preferred being with her over her friends, as long as they weren’t
fighting. Her friends were fantastic and she loved them all dearly, but no one
could outshine Hannah. They didn’t get angry or upset either because they
completely understood—they loved her too. Everyone loved Hannah. When Hannah
finally decided to join Facebook, she got over one million likes in just a
matter of weeks. One million people spread across the globe loved her, but she
had only one daughter—her, and that made McKenna feel very special.

“Most girls your age are thinking about
prom. Have you decided who you are going with?” Hannah asked.

 “I haven’t decided. I’ll probably just
go with Tanner.”

Tanner Reed. Tanner was a very nice, very
sweet, and very out and proud boy that McKenna had been friends with since
forever.

“I admire your support of our marriage,
but not every date you go on has to be gay,” Hannah remarked.

“Mommy,” McKenna groaned. “That’s not why
I don’t date. I have my career to consider. At this point, I can’t let anything
distract me.”

“While you have that career, be sure to
remember to live your life as well,” Hannah cautioned.

“I’ll have years to live after I am
established,” McKenna dismissed.

Her daughter’s drive and determination
might have been admirable if she hadn’t been saying those same things since she
was six years old. Now, her single-minded focus only worried Hannah. She was
afraid McKenna would be devastated when she discovered that her life ambition
wasn’t everything she envisioned it to be. Physically, she knew McKenna was up
to the challenge—the grueling hours, the frantic pace, playing hopscotch across
the globe. It was the emotional aspect that concerned her so.

Modeling was a tough business and only
those with the thickest skin could survive it. The pressure to maintain
perfection was exhausting. No matter how hard you tried, there was always some
critic waiting in the wings. Those faces that shined the brightest were hated
the most. Hannah knew from personal experience.

She didn’t believe McKenna was
emotionally mature enough to handle that kind of loathing. McKenna might look
like a fully grown woman, her birth certificate might state that she had reached
the legal age of adulthood, but she was still very young and naïve. And so
incredibly sweet and tenderhearted—she didn’t have a cruel bone in her body.
She was admired among her peers because she never had an unkind word to say
about any of them. She was the one who took all the new students under her
wing. McKenna reached out to those who felt isolated and alone. Her daughter
was everything Hannah had wanted to be at her age, but that wasn’t to say that
she didn’t have a mean streak when she didn’t get her way, especially where her
family was concerned. In the midst of one her displays of temper, McKenna was
truly a sight to behold, but her fire burned quickly and once again, she was
back to her sweet, lovable self. Her temper was not hot enough to sustain her.
Deep down, Hannah knew she was not ready to be thrust out into the world where
she would be hated—if for no reason other than she was Hannah’s daughter.

“What about asking Taylor to the prom?”
Hannah asked casually.

McKenna’s nose wrinkled with repugnance.
She dated him for a few weeks last summer. It was an experience she would just
as rather forget. “Taylor was way too familiar. We had only gone out on four
dates when he thrust his tongue halfway down my throat. If I had wanted a big,
fat, sloppy sausage in my mouth, I would have put it there myself. It was so
disgusting.”

Hannah sipped her water to cover her
amusement. Willow claimed that McKenna was a late bloomer, but Hannah had
different opinions on the subject, which she kept to herself. The fact remained
that she had never expressed interest in a single boy although they chased
after her in droves. Hannah lost track of the number of well-meaning mothers
she ran into at the fitness club or swimming pool, all of whom would throw
subtle hints about fixing up their children. Open-minded and diplomatic, she
would convey their messages to McKenna, but she always said they weren’t her
type. As far as she could discern, McKenna didn’t have a type.

McKenna knew her parents worried about
her lack of interest in age-appropriate things—boys, dating, prom.
Yuck.
She didn’t need a rhinestone crown—she had an exquisitely designed diamond
tiara that had been given to her when she was four years old. She didn’t need a
sash to declare her a queen—she had been born into royalty. Most of all, she
didn’t need some adolescent boy to hang on to. Boys were so disgusting—always
scratching themselves when they thought no one was looking. Or some, like
Kenyon, who did it wherever and didn’t care who saw him. McKenna thought that
if they were a little more conscientious while bathing, then they wouldn’t be
so itchy down there. Sam was the only male she could actually tolerate being
around for extended periods of time... because he never acted like a man. If
more men were like him, the world would be such a better place.