Chapter 10 - Whose Kids Are They
The marble was cold through my socks. I could feel it even with Dad's arms around me and Maya. My shoes had slid off somewhere when we'd backed up, and I didn't remember kicking them off. The bat was still there on the floor, not far from her knee. Nobody had picked it up.
She pushed her hair back out of her face. Her lipstick was smeared at the corner.
"Tell them to get up," she said to Dad. Her voice shook. "You're making this worse. I'm their stepmother. I have every right to discipline them when they embarrass this family."
Dad didn't let go of us. His hand stayed flat on the back of my vest.
"You're not disciplining anybody with that," he said. He nodded toward the bat. "That's not discipline."
"It was a prop," she said fast. "For the photos. He knows. Ask him. They were running around, they knocked over a table, everyone was staring—"
Maya made a small sound into Dad's shirt. I felt her fingers twist in my sleeve.
The older staffer in the black vest took a half step closer. He kept his hands up where we could see them, like he didn't want to scare us.
"Ma'am," he said quietly, "I saw the swing. There's a line. Once you raise an object over kids like that, force versus discipline — that's crossed."
She turned on him. "You don't get to decide that. You work the doors."
"I work this hall," he said. "And I've got to call it what it is."
Dad breathed out slow. I felt his chest move against my shoulder. He looked down at me, then at Maya, then up at her.
"Listen to me," he said. His voice was low but it carried. "I'm their father. Leo and Maya are my kids. I'm responsible for them. Not you. Not tonight. Not like this."
"You don't mean that," she said. "You said we were a team."
"A team doesn't do this," Dad said.
People were still standing in a half circle. A woman in a long gray dress had her hand over her mouth. Nobody was taking pictures now. The chandeliers buzzed faint overhead and the sconces made everything too bright. My eyes hurt.
She tried to stand up straighter on her knees. Her sandal strap had slipped.
"Leo," she said, looking right at me. "Tell your father what you did. Tell him how you acted. Come here."
My stomach dropped. Dad's arm tightened just a little. Not pulling me. Just there.
I didn't want to look at her, but I did. Her mascara had run under one eye.
I shook my head.
"No," I whispered.
"Leo—" she started.
I moved. I shifted my weight and pressed harder into Dad's side and put my arm around Maya. Maya leaned into me so our foreheads almost touched. Dad's hand covered both of us.
That was it. I didn't stand up or yell. I just stayed with him.
She stared at what I'd done. Her face changed.
"You're choosing him," she said. "In front of everyone."
Dad answered for me. "He's choosing safe."
The staffer glanced at the double doors. They were still shut. Someone outside knocked once, then stopped.
"Sir," the staffer said to Dad, "you want me to keep that" — he tipped his chin at the bat — "right where it is until security gets here?"
"Yeah," Dad said. "Don't move it."
She laughed, a short breath that wasn't a laugh. "Security? For this? You're going to ruin us over kids misbehaving?"
Dad didn't look at her anymore. He looked at us.
"You okay to stand?" he asked me quietly.
May you like
I nodded. My legs felt shaky, but I held Maya's hand tight. We stayed right against his legs when he got to his knees to help us up. He kept himself between us and the bat on the floor.
She was still on her knees a few feet away, watching us choose.
