The moment my three-year-old daughter pointed at my stepmother’s stomach and screamed, “Daddy’s in there!”, everyone laughed.
I laughed too.
That was my first mistake.
My second was assuming my daughter was imagining something.
My third—and the one I would regret for the rest of my life—was letting Rosalyn walk away.
The afternoon had begun perfectly.
For Paisley’s third birthday, my husband Trevor and I had decided against renting a venue or hiring an elaborate entertainment company. Paisley didn’t care about expensive decorations or fancy food.
She wanted a pool.
She wanted cupcakes.
And she wanted everyone she loved in the same backyard.
So that was exactly what we gave her.
Our backyard had been transformed into a cheerful little summer paradise. Pink and gold balloons floated above the patio. Paper butterflies were tied to the fence. A huge inflatable unicorn bobbed lazily in the shallow end of the pool.
