CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE #2
However, on Friday afternoon, when Danica arrived with Sam, I could tell that something was different the moment the little girl stepped out of her mother’s SUV. She didn’t look at me. Didn’t say a word. She just stomped toward the barn door, flung it open, and headed inside.
I met Danica in the driveway, my hands instantly finding her hips. “What is wrong?”
Danica made a face that said, “I’ll give you one guess.”
“Clyde,” I breathed.
So far this week, Sam had had nothing to report about Clyde or his behavior. But of course, expecting that demon-child to go a full five days without being a delinquent was clearly too much to ask.
“He sat behind her on the bus again today on the way home and instead of gum this time, he opened up a bag of dogshit he apparently found on top of a trashcan and smeared it on her head.”
My jaw dropped.
“Then he proceeded to call her a ‘shithead.’ And that her smell has actually improved. Then he commented on how no wonder she’s such a freak, because so is her mother.
And his mother and grandfather are going to make sure your property is shut down.
They’ve already called animal control and child protective services.
Because I have to be a terrible parent to let my child go anywhere near such dangerous animals.
The kid basically hit every single button of Sam’s that he absolutely could have. ”
“This is not a child. This is Satan reincarnated,” I said. “That boy has no soul.”
She frowned. “As much as I love this island, there is definitely a polarized mentality regarding parenting here. The McEvoy kids experienced some bullying last year too. Bennett’s daughter, Aya, kept getting hauled to Otto’s office for defending her cousins and standing up to a bully.
Some parents just don’t want to parent. They don’t want to tell their children no. Or set boundaries.”
“It’s not even that,” I argued. “It’s about raising them to be kind. To be considerate and empathetic. To remember that we’re all on this earth together. It’s not one person on the pitch; it’s a team.”
Her smirk was so sexy. “Did you just turn that into a soccer metaphor?”
“No. I turned it into a football metaphor.”
Her eyes sparkled, even though it was overcast and a little chilly.
“Gabrielle wants you to come over on Sunday for Easter dinner.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I can’t. Easter is very sacred to Italians. I must return to the Vatican to kiss the Pope’s ring. It’s my annual pilgrimage.”
The way she looked at me, like she couldn’t quite tell if I was being serious or joking, was exactly the break in her tension I was hoping for.
She was stressed out over her daughter, and while I wasn’t trying to make light of the situation or change the subject, I also knew she needed a bit of a reset to her nerves.
“You’re … you’re kidding, right?”
“No.” Then I grinned.
She stepped away and swatted my chest, rolling her eyes. “Cheeky ass. You’re coming?”
“Yes, I will come.”
How could I refuse this woman at all? Especially when she smiled at me the way she was right now? I reached for her hand and tugged her toward the barn door. “You go tend to Mouse. I’m going to go speak with Sam for a sec.”
Curiosity burned in her hazel-green eyes, but she didn’t say anything, rather, she let go of my hand when she reached Mouse’s stall, and greeted “her” horse.
Because we’d both agreed that Mouse was Danica’s horse now.
She rode Mouse every day, and Mouse followed Danica around the field if she wasn’t riding her.
They were bonded, and neither Danica nor I was upset about it.
A small sniffle came from Midnight and Raven’s stall, so I approached with caution.
“Samantha?” I said softly, opening the stall door to find the little girl sitting on the stall floor in the corner with Raven’s head bent toward her lap.
Sam had her forehead against Raven’s and was stroking her cheek.
Midnight was curious about what was going on, but he kept going back to try to bite Raven’s tail.
Raven lifted her big head my way and glanced at me, then faced Sam again.
I slid down onto my butt beside Sam.
Bending my knees, I rested my forearms on them and studied the ground in front of me while tuning into what kind of emotions she might be feeling and how I could best support her.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see that she still had her eyes closed.
Her chin trembled a little though and I could tell by the way her fists were bunched in her lap that she was doing her very best to hold it all together.
Leaning my head against the stall, I sighed. “I was bullied.”
She opened her eyes and cast one my way for a moment. “Yeah?”
I nodded. “For a long time in school. The kids—one boy, Guido—was particularly cruel.”
“Was it because of your anxiety?” she whispered.
“No. I almost think my anxiety developed because of him. Or at least, he triggered it in me. I was not an anxious child until I switched schools. I was very good at soccer and was recruited young to an academy—near my town. I traveled every day by bus for an hour because my parents could not afford to house me on campus. Guido was there. And he came from a very wealthy family. My family was not wealthy. My parents owned a textile shop. My sister and her husband now run it. Anyway, we did not have a lot of money. And Guido knew that. He made fun of my clothes. He looked for every little thing I did wrong, or that was different about me, and exploited it. He made my life … hell.”
She glanced at me again, and a single tear slid down the crease of her nose, landing on her denim pant leg. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“Grazie. I tell you this not to say that it will get better. Or just to lead your life with your chin to the sky because bullies do not prosper. Some of them do. Guido was recruited by Manchester United in the UK and went on to have a very successful soccer career. Possibly more successful than mine.”
Her brows bunched. “Okay …”
“I will tell you this though … nobody likes him. He might be good at football, but the world sees him for the terrible person that he is. He never married and never had children. His relationships were all over the tabloids. Women accused him all the time of cheating and being cruel. His parents have both died, and his siblings don’t speak to him.
He is booed when he goes out in public. Even though he brought the team a lot of success, the world knows him for what he truly is, and that’s a bully. And a bad person.”
Raven swung her head toward me and tried to gently play with my hair with her lips for a moment, almost grooming me, before returning to Sam. I gave the sweet mare a quick scratch on the ears.
“I’m telling you this because while it is so hard right now, and Clyde is being a horrible person, unless he changes who he is, the world will see the real him.
And being hated by the world is not good for big egos.
Guido is an unhappy man. He has been arrested for drinking and driving, for sexual harassment, and for harassing waitstaff.
He has forced airplanes to be grounded before their destination because he was aggressive to the cabin crew. He is unhappy. Hated and alone.”
“Do you take comfort in that?”
I shook my head and smiled briefly. “No. I feel sorry for him. We met when we were eleven, and he had the chance to change. But he didn’t. Even now, as a man almost fifty, he could change. But he won’t.”
“I don’t feel sorry for Clyde. Did my mom tell you what he did to me today?” She made a sick face. “I can still smell it, and I’ve washed my hair like eight times.”
“She did. And there is no excuse for that behavior. He is a troubled child, raised by troubled people. I don’t think there is much hope for him, I’m afraid. And I know that being on the island here makes it difficult for you not to be in a class with him.”
“He keeps calling me a freak.”
“Having anxiety does not make you a freak. It makes things harder sometimes, for you, and sometimes for those around you who might not understand or know how to help. But it does not make you a freak. If anybody is a freak, it is Clyde. He is not normal. His behavior is not normal. You are normal. You have anxiety; I have anxiety. But we are good people with good hearts, and we are normal.”
“I’m worried animal control is going to take all the animals away. He said his parents called them. And that they might take me away from my mom for letting me come here.”
I shook my head again. “No, piccola, that will not happen. They can come, but they will see nobody is in danger. Nobody is being harmed. I think he is lying. Trying to scare and hurt you.”
“Well, it worked.”
“Do not let it.”
She frowned, and her hair fell in front of her face. Then she growled and shoved it back behind her shoulders. “God, I can still smell it.”
I stood up and offered her my hand. “Come. Let’s see what we can do.”
She took my hand, and I helped her stand up. She gave Raven one last kiss on the nose goodbye, then followed me out of the barn.
Danica was on Mouse, and the two of them were at the top of the field near the road. “Are you okay with coming into the house with me?” I asked her.
She nodded without hesitation and followed me. Portia was with us, of course.
I went to my pantry and pulled out three large jars of homemade canned Roma tomatoes. Then I opened each one, dumped them into a big bowl and used my immersion blender to blend them smooth.
“I thought tomato juice was just if you got sprayed by a skunk,” she said, watching me from her perch on the barstool at the island.
“It is for many things. Skunk spray, poop in hair, pasta sauce. Many things.”
She giggled.
I carried the bowl over to the dining room table and pulled out the chair for her, inviting her to come sit down and lean her head over. “This isn’t going to dye my hair orange, is it? My hair is blonde. This is red. Red and yellow make orange.”