As Joey napped, I waited in the pickup line for Collette. I pulled up YouTube and watched more videos of that family. I had already decided that I would fight for Collette, but watching these videos confirmed it. There was nothing outwardly rotten. By all accounts, they were a large, happy family. Their house was massive, with mountains in the background, somewhere in California? No, the houses seemed too McMansion for that. Utah or Arizona maybe. Somewhere in the Southwest. The more videos that played, the stronger of an off-putting undercurrent I couldn’t put my finger on. The strained smiles. The forced challenges. The older children growing more sour as the years passed, smiling less often. I watched a video of one of the children undergoing minor surgery, waking up groggy and crying, reaching for his mother, only to have a camera shoved in his face and obnoxious animations inserted about his incoherent ramblings. Making a joke of it. It made my stomach churn with frustration and pity.
Was it ethically responsible to publish every private and sometimes incredibly awkward moment of adolescence online for millions of strangers to watch? Was I projecting my own issues on this new form of entertainment?
Or was I correct in my assertion that these children felt like they were being sourced like commodities for social currency? It didn’t feelright.And where were the laws protecting these children? I couldn’t imagine the same strict child labor laws that Hollywood, at least,finally,had being applied to these “fun home videos.” But looking through these time stamps, they were being produced rapidly, sometimes more than one a day. How much choice would they have? Would Collette be forced to perform for a camera, even if she didn’t want to? Would a camera be there as she developed her first crush or got her period instead of a loving parent? I made the mistake of scrolling deep into the comments. I saw several questions asking after a private Patreon account for the littlest girls.
“No!” I threw my phone to the passenger seat, feeling sick to my stomach.
There was no doubt. I would not allow this life for Collette. I would do whatever it took to keep her safe and loved. That had always been the most important thing that wouldn’t change now.
I scrubbed at my face until a honk behind me told me to pull forward.
I tried not to let my nerves show as Collette chatted happily. When I parked at George’s, I gestured for her to climb in the front seat as I sometimes let her do.
“I just want to let you know that Joey—your mom is here.”
“Okay.” She shrugged a shoulder but tugged on her earlobe in the way she does when she is nervous.
“We’re going to have a grown-up conversation, and you’re going to make a big decision. But you aren’t alone. And no matter what you decide, I love you. Okay?”
She nodded. “Can I have cheesy crackers?”
I huffed a laugh. “Yeah.”
“Really?” Her eyes lit up.
Junk food was the least of my worries. “But not too many. You don’t want to spoil dinner.” Apparently, I couldn’t turn it off completely.
Inside, George and Joey were arguing.
“I don’t know what is up with you lately, but you can’t talk to me like this.” Joey had her arms crossed, leaning in as she snarled at the older man. When she saw us, she tossed out her arms. “Finally. He’s being weird again.”
“Heya, George,” I said. “Everything okay?”
George turned on his walker, leaning heavily on it. “There are my girls.”
I let out a quiet sigh of relief. At least he was doing okay.
Collette dropped her backpack and started to run at them. Joey braced herself, arms out, but Collette ran to George.
“It’s okay, Papa George. We’re home now. You can have cheesy crackers, but only a few. You can’t spoil your dinner.” He let her tug them to the kitchen.
Joey blinked after Collette, jaw open in surprise before she snapped it shut.
After dinner, I still hadn’t heard from Harrison. This was typical on a shooting day, but I had wished he was here for this conversation. Joey refused to spend any more time waiting.
We sat George and Collette down, and Joey cleared her throat. I thought she was about to explain the situation, but she pulled out her phone instead. “Hey, Collette, wanna see something cool?”
I opened my mouth to speak but decided to wait. George frowned, hands clasped at his chin and studying the interaction.
Joey showed Collette a video of the family. Collette watched with intent and laughed. With every second, her attention stayed rapt, and my heart fell. Had I overestimated her desire to stay here? This whole time, I’d been worrying about being enough for Collette, and it was only just occurring to me now, that given the choice, Collette may not actually pick this weird, little family.
“This family wants you to come live with them, Collette. Would you like that?” Joey asked, using that artificially sweet voice adults sometimes used with kids.
Collette looked from the video to me.
“Or you can stay with me,” I offered simply.
I wanted to stay here at the house and with Harrison, but I couldn’t promise any of those things. I could only promise that I would love and take care of her, and there was absolutely no doubt for me. George’s brows furrowed, creating a deep wrinkle. I could tell he didn’t understand the situation and was staying quiet.
