Peter Setton was enraged at the sight of his two-year-old grandson, the child of a man he hated, and it drove him to do the unthinkable.
Peter Setton slammed his fist onto the kitchen table. “Will you shut that kid up?” he screamed. Across the kitchen, his daughter Alice picked up her two-year-old son Glen and started to rock him, trying to soothe the baby.
Glen was teething, and he was understandably weepy, but Pete had no patience and no tolerance for the baby’s gripes. Alice was shocked by the look of anger and intense dislike her father threw at her tiny, helpless son.
“Dad,” she cried. “Please, dad, he can’t help it! He’s in pain!”
“Pain!” screamed Pete. “What does that stupid creature know about pain?”
“Stop it!” Alice cried. “Don’t you talk to my son like that! He’s not stupid; he’s a baby!”
We need to let our children live their own lives.
“Get out,” Pete shouted. “Take your brat and get out! I knew it would come to this when you got involved with that piece of trash! Now I have to support you AND his kid, and put up with his tantrums? GET OUT!”
Alice looked at her father sadly. “Yes, I will leave,” she said quietly. “I won’t stay in a house where my innocent son is despised and hated. I’d rather live on the streets.”
“That’s exactly where you’ll end up without my money!” Pete screamed. “You and that snot-nosed brat!”
An hour later, Pete was sitting at the kitchen table, and the house was dead quiet. He could hear his breath hitching in and out. He dropped his head into his trembling hands. “Oh my God,” he whispered. “What have I done?”
Pete was a hard man, an ambitious man, and those qualities had taken him far. He was the Vice President of an international corporation — he had everything he’d ever wanted, except absolute control of his life.
No one ever controls everything, as Pete should have known. Life is constantly throwing us curveballs, and it threw Pete quite a few. First, his beloved wife Maryanne had succumbed to cancer, leaving him to raise their daughter Alice by himself.
Alice became the center of his world, and he was unprepared when she’d fallen in love with a young man from his work — John Bradley. Pete had liked John and considered him as his most likely successor in the organization.
But that was before he’d become his daughter’s boyfriend, then her fiance. This man was taking away the only thing Pete had left! He was stealing Alice! When Alice announced that she was pregnant, Pete became enraged.
Now Alice was less his by yet another parcel. She was about to become a wife and mother, and Pete would be only a small part of her life. He couldn’t stand that; he wouldn’t stand for that.
Then John had vanished, quit his job, and walked out on Alice and the baby, which meant Alice wouldn’t be leaving him. Alice and Glen were there 24 hours a day, but the baby was a constant reminder of John..
“What have I done?” whispered Pete again. “My little girl, out on the streets!” He jumped to his feet and grabbed his car keys. He spent the rest of the night driving around, looking for Alice and the baby to no avail.
Pete called in sick, and for the next five days, he scoured the city looking for his daughter. He went to the bus station, homeless shelters, and hospitals; he even lodged a missing person’s report with the police.
No one had seen Alice or the baby. They seemed to have vanished into thin air. On the evening of the fifth day, an old homeless woman pushing a shopping cart with a one-eyed dog in it told Pete she’d seen a stroller under the bridge.
Pete had thrown the woman a $50 bill and raced to the bridge. The stroller was there under the bridge, and it was Alice’s stroller! There were also a series of tents and rough shelters, and a group of people was gathered around a fire.
