Chapter 21 #2
Whitney crossed her arms over her chest and swiveled to face the crowd. “This has nothing to do with any of you, so you need to go the hell away.”
God, this woman was still as big a bitch as she was when we were teenagers. “Fine, you know what? If you won’t leave, I will. Come on, Sage.”
I grabbed my friend’s hand and started to pull her away when Whitney spoke again. “Look at that, Danika Dough Girl’s still the same pathetic loser she was in high school.”
“Mom!” At Hardin’s voice, I whipped around, the muscles in my body locking tight when I saw the rage on his face, rage that mirrored his father’s to a T. But it was the fear and uncertainty mixed in Macie’s expression that broke my heart.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” I said to her, smiling in the hopes of eliminating that fear. “Everything’s fine.”
“Don’t you talk to my daughter,” Whitney snarled. “Don’t even look at my daughter!”
“Whitney, that’s enough,” Leo barked. “You need to leave, right now.”
She threw the same hate that had just been directed at me in Leo’s direction, lifting her chin in the air before looking to kids. “Hardin, Macie, let’s go.”
“They aren’t goin’ anywhere with you,” Leo growled. “My week isn’t over yet. You’ll get them back Monday. Now leave. I won’t say it again.”
“Kids, now,” she barked. “Come on. We’re leaving.”
“Hardin,” Leo said, sounding a thousand times calmer than his ex. “Bud, take your sister to the truck now.”
He stood a bit taller but there was no missing the red in his cheeks or the slight tremble in his voice as he said, “It’s Dad’s week, Mom. Go home. We’ll see you Monday after school.”
She stared after her son for several seconds, the atmosphere all around going electric.
Sage and I stood silent, along with everyone else, and I held my breath in fear as to what would happen next.
Finally, she spun around on her heel, sending her blonde hair flying as she stomped off toward the parking lot.
It took a few more seconds, but the rest of the crowd finally began to disburse.
Macie’s whole face had grown pale, and I hated Whitney more for doing that to her.
I gave her the biggest smile I could muster in that moment and reached into one of the boxes Sage and I had been packing up before everything went down.
“Hey, I thought you might be in the mood for something sweet after the game, so I stashed a couple cookies away for you.”
She didn’t brighten any, but she at least reached out and took the cookies I’d wrapped just for her, so I tried another tactic.
“You’ll have to let me know what you think of those. If you like them I’ll teach you how to bake them. Deal?”
That earned me a tiny smile, and some of the tension that had twisted my shoulders into knots over the past few minutes finally started to loosen.
“Deal.”
“Hey, kiddo,” Sage said, jumping in to lighten the situation. “Feel like giving me a hand? Dani kinda went nuts and baked enough to feed an army for this thing, and I could really use some help getting all these empty tray containers back to the car.”
“Yeah sure,” she chirped. And just like that, the Macie I’d come to know was back. She whipped around to Leo and asked, “Dad, can I?”
“Sure thing, baby girl. I’ll meet you over there in just a second.”
She and Sage loaded their arms up and headed for the parking lot, and I turned my attention to Hardin. “Congrats on the win, Hardin. That was a great game.”
“Thanks,” he answered, his voice gruff with emotion. He hesitated for a beat before asking, “You good?”
“I’m good, honey. You don’t need to worry about me, I swear.”
He studied me for a few seconds before finally nodding. “You need help carryin’ anything else?”
I felt my face go soft as my lips turned up. “I think we’ve got it all, but thanks for offering. And you should probably get home and relax. You played great tonight.”
He nodded again, and when he spoke next, it was much quieter. “Thanks, Dani.”
Leo stayed back as Hardin started for the parking lot, his expression filled with concern as he asked, “You sure you’re good?”
“I’m fine, really.”
He took a step closer to the table, lowering his voice so the people around us wouldn’t overhear. “I wasn’t there for the start of it, but Hardin was.” Damn it. That poor boy. “But what I saw was bad enough.”
“It was an ugly situation, Leo, but nothing I won’t get over by morning. Believe me, that was just typical Whitney.”
“She treated you just like that back in school.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, a realization he’d just come to, and judging by the look on his face, it really pissed him off.
“Yes,” I admitted. “All the time. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d really like to stop talking about that vile woman now.”
He hesitated, and I could see he wanted to press, so I spoke again in the hopes of finally ending this whole thing. “You should get back to your kids. I’m good, don’t worry about me.”
“Danika—”
“Really, Leo. Go take care of your kids.”
His chest rose on a deep inhale, and for a second I thought he was going to push harder. Then he took a step back. “I’m sorry, sweetness. For so much.”
I slowly inhaled, fighting back the burn in my chest. “Yeah, me too,” I whispered.
His hazel eyes warmed as he issued, “Drive safe, baby.” With that, he turned and headed off to his kids.
Leo
I was doing my nightly walk-through of the house, checking locks and turning out lights later that night.
When I checked in on Macie, she was out like a light, but when I peeked my head into Hardin’s room I was surprised to find the lights were on and he was lying in his bed, wide awake, staring at the ceiling.
“Hey, bud. Lights out soon, yeah? It’s gettin’ late.”
“’Kay.”
“Night, son. Love you.”
I moved to back out, stopping when he called out, “Hey, Dad?”
“Yeah?”
He turned his head, his eyes filled with an emotion that made my chest tighten. “The stuff Mom said tonight, about Dani . . .”
“Hardin, I don’t want you thinkin’ about that.”
He sat up, spinning around to hang his feet off the side of the bed.
“No. Dad, I want to know. I need to know.” His gaze drifted off on an inhale so big his chest expanded.
I waited silently as he summoned the strength to ask what he needed to ask.
Finally, he looked back. “Mom was a bully, wasn’t she?
She bullied Dani, and probably a bunch of other people. ”
“Bud . . .” I let out an exhale, moving toward Hardin’s bed and sitting down beside him. “I told you before, I’m not gonna speak ill of your mom to you. That puts you in a place you don’t deserve.”
“This isn’t about talkin’ trash,” he insisted passionately.
“I heard what she called Dani tonight. She called her a slut and a homewrecker and”—he swallowed, curling his top lip up in disgust—“what grown woman calls another woman a dough girl? That’s some shit the mean girls in my school would say, not an adult.
So I know she probably said all those nasty things to her then too.
And Dani said she was kind of nerdy back then. ”
There were times when I forgot how smart my son was, when I kept picturing him as my little boy. Sometimes his intuitiveness scared me.
I reached up, raking a hand through my hair before giving it to him straight. “Yeah, son. Your mom was mean to Danika, but it was a long time ago. They were kids—”
“It just happened tonight,” he insisted passionately. “Mom stood there, in front of all those people and called her names.”
Bracing my elbows on my knees, I twisted closer to my boy. “Hardin, listen to me. You can’t control what your mom does, and her actions aren’t a reflection on you—”
“They are when I was mean to her too, just like my own mother.”
And there it was, the real reason my boy was lyin’ up here alone, unable to find sleep. He felt guilty.
“I’m not gonna sugarcoat it for you. How you acted that day at Pop’s, it wasn’t cool.
She didn’t deserve it. Whether you want to hear it or not, she and I did nothing wrong by keeping our relationship from you.
But what you did . . .” I shook my head.
“Bud, it doesn’t even compare to how your mom behaved.
You feel bad because you’re a good kid, and you know you’ve done wrong.
Makin’ bad decisions sometimes doesn’t take away from you bein’ good.
What takes away from it is knowin’ you’ve done somethin’ wrong and not working to make it right. You understand?”
He looked down to his lap and nodded his head. “Yeah, Dad. I get it.”
I reached out, placing my hand on his back. “Good, bud. Now try and get some rest.”
I stood up and took a step when he spoke again. “You guys . . . you aren’t together anymore, are you? Is that ’cause of me?”
“No,” I answered adamantly. “It’s not because of you. I screwed up. I did something wrong, now it’s up to me to make it right.”
His gaze grew curious as he asked, “Are you? Gonna make it right?”
“I sure as hell am gonna try. Now go to sleep. I’ll see you in the mornin’.”
“Okay. Night, Dad.”
I pulled Hardin’s door closed, flipped off the hallway light, and headed downstairs to my room, thinking the whole way: I hope like hell she gives me a chance to make it right.