#christopher pridemore

“Dad! Dad! DAD! Look, Dad! A baby! And she’s smiling at me!”

Theodore excels at public speaking. A third generation politician, he grew up in the spotlight, and after years on the campaign trail, beside his brother and then as the candidate himself, addressing a crowd comes as naturally to him as chatting with an old friend. However, giving the eulogy at his father’s funeral presents a uniquely emotional challenge for the young governor, and as he turns to face the congregation Theo runs through a mental checklist of reminders.

Stand up straight. Try to relax. Speak slowly. Enunciate fully. Pause at key moments. Make eye contact with the-

And that’s when he sees him, Madeleine’s husband, smirking at him smugly from the back row, his arm draped around some woman who appears to be holding a...

A baby, Theodore gulps, his eyes widening with panic. My baby.

“For heaven’s sake, Claudia! Can't you get that child to shut the fuck up already?! I don’t want her making a scene inside the church.”

“You don’t think I’m trying?” she snaps. “We should have just left her at home with the nanny. A funeral is no place for a baby.”

Kit rolls his eyes. “I explained this to you before. Governor Davenport will be attending the services today along with several senior members of his staff, and I want to show them that in spite of my quickie marriage and impending divorce I am, in fact, a caring and devoted family man as well as a grounded, dependable member of this community. I can’t afford to have anyone at the office doubt my judgement or the strength of my character. Especially Mr. Davenport himself. He’s my ticket into the upper echelon of politics in this state. I need his support.”

“Well, fine. If you’re such an upstanding father, why don’t you get her to stop crying then?” Claudia demands.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I can’t hear you over all that racket! I think I’ll just meet you inside the chapel. Feel free to join me once you’ve quieted the brat down!”

“You named her Claudia?!”

Christopher nods, a gloating, self satisfied smirk in his haughty blue eyes. “Claudia Jane. After you, of course. You may not have given birth to her, but you are her mother now and I never want you or little Claudia to doubt that.”

“Oh, Kit,” the redhead smiles as she scoops the drowsy newborn up into her arms. “Heaven knows why, but I love you, babe. And as much as I hate to admit it, she is a cute little thing, isn’t she? Do you think your grandmother will buy that she’s yours?”

“I have no doubt about it! Not only does her birth certificate confirm it, but even if my family suspects something there’s not a chance in hell that Madeleine would admit to lying. As far as I’m concerned, we’re as good as gold. We just need to pay a quick visit to my nana, and the inheritance will be ours.”

“Kit!” Madeleine gasps, startled to see her husband at the hospital during the middle of a workday. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” she scolds, frowning at him over her shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

“I think you know exactly what I’m doing here,” he hisses in a loud, exaggerated tone of voice.

Maddie shrugs. “You said you weren’t coming by until later, but I’m glad to see you. There’s something we need to talk about.”

“Indeed there is,” Christopher pauses, tapping his foot impatiently as Maddie straps Jane into her car seat. “How could you?!” he exclaims once he has his wife’s full and undivided attention. “You promised me, Madeleine!”

“What?”

“What? WHAT?! You know what!” he spits. “Drugs, Maddie! That’s what! And while pregnant with our baby?! MY baby?! I am so ashamed of you!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” she cries. “I’m not-”

“Don’t you DARE lie to me! The doctors found traces of cocaine in Jane’s blood, and one of the nurses said that you had an unannounced, after hours visit from a suspicious looking man last night. Who was he, Maddie? Your drug dealer, I suppose?”

“What?! No! Kit, I’m clean! I swear! I haven’t done anything in years. I-”

“Clean, hm?” he snaps at her furiously. “So you won’t mind if I check your belongings then?”

“Do you think I’m some kind of idiot?!” Madeleine shrieks as she shoves her bags at him and motions for Kit to take a look. “I mean, seriously! Who brings that kind of shit to a hospital?! There must have been a mistake with Jane’s tests. A mix up of some kind. You know I wouldn’t do that to her! To me! I’m-”

“Officers!” Christopher calls out, a small white pouch dangling between his fingers.

“No!” she screams. “That’s not mine! Kit, come on! You know me better than this! I wouldn’t hurt my daughter!”

“Your daughter?” Christopher whispers as he marches past Madeleine and snatches Jane away from her. “Oh, Maddie. Poor, sweet, delusional Maddie. I have been awarded temporary sole custody of Jane, and as soon as I get the divorce proceedings under way I intend to make that a permanent arrangement. She’s not your daughter any longer.”

Maddie hums as she tucks some diapers into her overnight bag, a drowsy smile plastered on her sleep deprived face. She just received a text message from Westley a few moments ago informing her that he was leaving work early and would be at the hospital in less than an hour to take her and Jane home.

Home, he’d said. Their home, Madeleine sighs. Not for the first time she finds her mind wandering to the trivial, minute details of what it might mean to be Mrs. Westley Monahan. She imagines how pretty their “WM” initials would be monogrammed on a set of Egyptian cotton towels, how melodic her daughter’s name would sound ending in Monahan instead of Pridemore, how attractive she and West would look posing together on the front of a holiday card.

Lost in her daydreams, Maddie doesn’t hear a word of the heated argument echoing in the hallway outside her door, nor does she notice as Kit silently slithers into her hospital room, triumph oozing from his gaze like molten lava from the mouth of a volcano.