Chapter 468 Cooking for My Son
In the hotel, Lawrence R. had called in Trento City's best pulmonologist in advance. Winnie could treat illnesses, but not as rapidly as trauma specialists could. As the man held his son, allowing the doctor to check the boy's lungs before starting an IV, Winnie chose to stay out of it and stood off to the side.
Under the soft glow of the light, Lawrence R., who had been running around all day, took a moment to glance at the woman's wandering figure before him, realizing that he was thirsty.
"Could you get me a glass of water, please?" his voice was raspy.
Winnie made no move to help, her tone laced with mockery, "That sounds more like a job for your girlfriend, Mr. Rodriguez."
His face darkened with anger and a sting of hurt before he turned to his son. "Sidney, I want the truth. What were you doing at the Blanchet place? Kathy mentioned you were sneaking around their house."
Looking a bit guilty, Sidney replied defiantly, "I had reservations about your new girlfriend, so I went to check her out, okay?"
Lawrence pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Were both mother and child giving him the cold shoulder? He turned to Winnie. "What happened over at the Blanchets'?"
Directing her gaze to Sidney, Winnie said flatly, "You tell him."
Facing his mom, Sidney's tone softened considerably, "Alright, alright."
He looked back at Lawrence with a glare, "It was that Lila Blanchet, encouraged by Mrs. Blanchet, she tried to corner me and then pushed me into the pond. She thinks she's so strong and tall and can over power me. Hah, I've learned some self-defense moves from Oscar, I can handle myself!"
"Mrs. Blanchet?" Lawrence's frown deepened.
Kathy had already suggested that the incident with Winnie was stirred up by Mrs. Blanchet and Skylar.
Finally, Winnie glanced at him, her words tinged with mockery, "What, you don't believe it?"
How could little Rosie just end up at the Blanchet residence out of the blue?
“Could today’s incident, which almost ended disastrously, have happened without any adult involvement?”
Lawrence wasn’t foolish. His impression of Mrs. Blanchet had soured since their last encounter. “Why does Mrs. Blanchet have it out for Sidney?”
Winnie knew mentioning Ishara directly might not convince him.
She chuckled lightly, “Two possibilities—one, she can’t stand the thought of you having a son because of Ishara. And two, Mrs. Blanchet knows Sidney is my son, meaning, she's aware that you and I were once married.”
Lawrence narrowed his eyes, a chill settling in his gaze.
Seizing the moment, Winnie continued, “But there’s a curious thing. How did Mrs. Blanchet know about the friction between Rosie and Sidney? She lured Rosie to the pond at the Blanchet property, as if she knew Sidney couldn’t swim. Sidney's only been in Trento City for a few days, and he’s only made a public appearance once—at the Rodriguez place. There’s no way Mrs. Blanchet could’ve known he’s afraid of water. Who told her?”
Winnie was implying something.
Lawrence, too, was puzzled by this question. Then it struck him—on that evening at the Rodriguez home, only Ishara from the Blanchet family had met Sidney. At that moment, Sidney and Rosie had a quarrel, and Rosie had stormed off.
Could Ishara have encountered Rosie?
His mind was in turmoil, his lips pursing slightly.
As Winnie observed his furrowed brow, she arched an eyebrow and probed, “And what exactly is Ishara’s attitude toward Sidney? It’s rare for a stepmother to take a liking to her stepson, right?”
Her cool tone darkened Lawrence's already somber eyes, and he found himself reflexively explaining, “You’ve got it wrong—between Ishara and I...”
He wanted to say they’d never get that far, it was just two years after all. But then, remembering Ishara’s plea for discretion and his mother’s illness, he stopped himself.
Noticing him faltering as if wanting to clarify something, hope flickered in Winnie’s eyes. What was he about to say?
Yet the man changed the subject, “We need to find out if Mrs. Blanchet is trying to harm Sidney in any way, and how she knew about his aquaphobia. I’ll look into it.”
Winnie clenched her fist, the glimmer in her eyes extinguished. She turned icy, “No need to investigate. I already have my answer.”
"Things are under control here. You should go be with your other half."
His wife's icy demeanor stung him more than he'd admit. He stood by Ishara for reasons of his own—her tight grip on a secret that could save his mother's life.
But all his wife saw was a misunderstanding. And he couldn't explain.
A shadow of darkness briefly crossed his deep, cold eyes.
Maybe it was his silence that tipped Sidney off. The boy sensed something off about his dad's profile, found it unusually forlorn.
With a subtle cough, Sidney interjected, "Can you two stop bickering? I'm hungry. You both should get me something, please?"
Winnie reacted swiftly, then glanced at her son. "Sidney, Mom will whip up something for you right away."
Sidney turned and shot a glare at the man, "You too! Why should my mom do all the work?"
Feeling cornered but strangely willing, Lawrence stood and rolled up the sleeves of his pristine white shirt. "What would you like to eat?"
"Whatever mom wants, is fine with me," Sidney said, deliberately creating an opportunity for them to talk.
Winnie, however, was not in a yielding mood. She told her son, "If you want him to cook, then I'll go take care of my own things."
Sidney paused for a beat, then slumped into the couch, feigning dejection. "Fine, I get it. Without Oscar here to back me, I can't seem to get you two to listen to me. I'm not the precious baby I thought I was to you. It's like I'm invisible, unloved!"
Winnie scowled but stood up and headed to the kitchen. "What do you really want to eat?"
"Decide with dad! I love whatever you two make together," Sidney commanded.
Begrudgingly, she entered the kitchen, seeing her son looking weak and fragile—he hadn't been in the best of health.
Her love for him won the day, and she complied.
Lawrence couldn't help but smirk slightly, his tactics failing where his son's succeeded. Following her to the kitchen, his towering frame seemed out of place in the compact hotel space. Winnie stood at the counter, leaving no room for him.
Casually, Lawrence closed the glass door behind them.
Hearing the sound, Winnie whipped around, her gaze frosty. "Why are you closing the door?"
The memory of what happened in the Blanchet family's restroom still haunted her.
Lawrence, too, thought of that moment, his eyes meeting hers with a seriousness softened by a slight cough. "Not much can happen in such a small space anyway."
His innuendo, which once would have made Winnie blush and her heart race, no longer had the same effect.
Now, feeling both awkward and annoyed, Winnie crossed her arms defensively. "Lawrence R., how dare you be so casual with me?
“Why are you still lingering here, disrupting dinner with my son?”
“Don't fool yourself into thinking he's doing you any favors. Do you really think you still have a chance with me?”
“I'm tired of your inconsistent behavior, pretending to care about our son one moment and then acting indifferent the next..."
All of a sudden, her wrist was gripped forcefully by him, his knuckles ice-cold as if covered in a layer of frost.
Lawrence's eyes were deep and cold. "Why would I pretend to care about my son? I genuinely care!"
"Ha! Not more than your precious Ishara obviously!" Winnie retorted with disbelief, her eyes blazing with fury as she confronted him.
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