Chapter 2
My little episode didn't get me the divorce I wanted. Killian just thought I was playing hard to get.
So, off to the show we went.
The production team dragged us to a remote, middle-of-nowhere rural town.
The first rule? Hand over all snacks, toys, and electronics.
The other moms were groaning, but I didn't care.
I hadn't brought anything anyway.
Next was the housing assignment.
Five families, five houses, decided by drawing lots.
Iris, appearing as the "special guest," stood there with her saintly face and offered to hand out the slips.
"You ladies go first," she said with a graceful smile. "I'm just a guest. I'm happy to stay anywhere."
Naturally, everyone else drew cozy lakeside cabins or rustic cottages.
When it was my turn, I opened the slip. It read: [The Pigsty.]
And it literally was a pigsty.
A drafty shack made of scrap wood and hay, right next to a compost pile. One breeze, and the smell was enough to knock you unconscious.
Hudson burst into tears. "I'm not staying here! It stinks. I want to go home!"
He started rolling around in the dirt, ruining his designer sneakers.
Iris appeared like an angel of mercy, carrying a brand-new, high-end tent. "Eleanor, don't be mad at him. He's just a child.
"Even though you've been... difficult... I can't let the boy suffer."
She held out the tent. "Use this. The mountains get cold at night."
[Iris is literally an angel. How can Eleanor be so mean to her?]
[Eleanor doesn't deserve a friend like that.]
[Just say thank you and take the tent!]
I looked at her fake, shimmering face and felt my skin crawl.
I didn't take the tent. I kicked it.
The tent flew through the air and landed squarely in the middle of the compost pile.
"Save the Mother Teresa act for someone who cares," I said.
I pointed at the sobbing Hudson and turned to Iris. "Hudson, you want to stay in a nice place?"
Hudson stopped crying and looked up. "Yes."
"Great. Go grab that lady's leg and cry. Tell her you're actually her son and make her take you to her luxury cabin."
Dead silence. Again.
Hudson was stunned.
Iris's smile froze on her face, looking more like a grimace.
The live chat went wild.
[Holy crap! Did she just say that?]
[Eleanor is a savage!]
[Hudson's like: I just wanted a bed, I didn't ask for a new mom!]
Hudson looked at me, then at the beautiful two-story lodge behind Iris.
Two seconds later, he scrambled up and tackled Iris's legs. "Mommy! I'm sorry! Take me home. I'll be a good boy!"
He wailed with such passion that tears and snot ended up all over Iris's white couture dress.
Iris was paralyzed.
She wanted to push him off, but she couldn't break character.
She just stood there, awkwardly patting his head while her face twitched. "Hudson, sweetie... I'm not your mommy..."
"Yes you are. You are!" Hudson was a natural-born actor. He squeezed tighter.
Eventually, the producers had to step in. Hudson "won" a spot in Iris's luxury lodge.
And I? I calmly moved into the clean, comfortable guest room originally reserved for Iris.
With the housing settled, it was time for dinner.
The task was to catch fish in the muddy pond to trade for ingredients.
The other moms put on their waders and charged into the mud, screaming and laughing for the cameras.
I, however, found a folding chair, sat by the shore, and started casually filing my nails.
A producer walked over, looking stressed. "Eleanor, aren't you going in? If you don't catch anything, your son won't have dinner."
I didn't even look up. "His father is a billionaire. He's not going to starve to death. As long as he's breathing, we're good."
I cupped my hands and yelled toward the lodge. "Hudson! Go beg for food next door.
"If they say no, tell them Killian went bankrupt and you're a poor, abandoned orphan."
Hudson, who was currently enjoying the AC in the lodge, turned bright red when he heard me.
The idea of begging for food was more painful to his ego than the mud could ever be.
Suddenly, to save his own dignity, he gritted his teeth and threw himself into the pond with a splash.
He caught those fish like he was hunting for revenge.
A while later, he climbed out with a bucket full of trout.
He even started a fire and grilled them himself.
When they were done, he marched over and shoved one in my face.
"Here. Take it," he snapped, looking away with a pout.
I took a bite of the perfectly grilled fish.
Mmm. Not bad. Crispy on the outside, tender on the inside.
The live chat started to shift.
[She's lazy as hell, but... why is this so satisfying to watch?]
[She's not doing the work, so the kid has to. Honestly? It's kind of brilliant.]
[Is it just me, or is the brat actually becoming... useful?]
Was he?
I looked over to see Hudson getting into a heated argument with Iris because she wanted a bite of his fish.
My "bare minimum" parenting style was already paying off.