Chapter 2 - What The Hell Are You Doing
I didn't see his face first. I saw his shoes hitting the marble.
Everything was loud in my ears even though nobody was talking. Maya's crying was right against my neck, wet and hot, and the chandeliers over us threw too much light. I couldn't blink it away. The woman in the burgundy dress was still above us. Her arms were up. The dark wood of the bat caught the light for half a second.
Then the double doors banged.
He came through them fast, his denim shirt half untucked over his olive t-shirt, khaki pants wrinkled like he'd been sitting in a car. I knew those steps. My dad didn't run like the other men at the gala in their suits. He ran heavy, straight at us.
"What the hell are you doing?"
His voice cracked across the hall. Not loud like yelling at a game. Alarmed. Breathless. It stopped her swing for a half beat. Her head snapped toward the doorway and her long dark hair swung with her. Her heeled sandals slipped a little on the marble when she tried to turn back to us.
That pause was enough.
He got between us and her. I felt the air move when he cut in. One arm went wide in front of me and Maya, and his other hand went up toward her wrists. He didn't grab the bat at first. He just blocked her body with his.
"Get back," he said, low. "Get away from them."
She didn't. She tried to push forward, her face twisted and angry, and she brought the bat down toward the space where we were. Dad stepped into it. His shoulder took the swing. I heard him grunt. The wood hit cloth and muscle, not us.
Maya screamed into my shirt and clutched harder. My arms were locked around her. I could feel her sheer sleeves bunched under my fingers.
"Stop," Dad said. He was right in her face now. Close enough that I could see the stubble on his jaw and the sweat on his forehead. "Drop it."
She stared at him like she didn't recognize him. Then she stumbled. One of her heels caught on the edge of her long velvet dress. She windmilled back a step, then another, trying to keep the bat up, but her wrist gave out.
The bat hit the marble floor.
It was the loudest sound in that hall. A hard crack that echoed off the white walls and the sconces. It bounced once and rolled a few inches and stopped on its side, dark against all that white. Nobody moved to pick it up.
For a second I just looked at it. I couldn't look at her.
Around us, the room finally made a noise. A wave of gasps from the people in formal wear standing back by the tables. Women with their hands over their mouths. A man with his hand frozen halfway to his jacket. Nobody came forward. They just watched. The chandeliers buzzed faintly above the silence that followed.
The woman went to her knees. Not slow like in a movie. Hard. Her burgundy dress pooled around her on the marble and her hands slapped down to catch herself. She was breathing fast through her nose, staring at the dropped bat beside her like she wanted to grab it again but couldn't make her arm move.
Dad didn't look at the crowd. He turned.
He dropped to his knees in front of us so fast his khakis scraped the floor. Then his arms were around both of us, pulling us in tight against his chest. His denim shirt smelled like outside air and car heat. His heart was pounding so hard I could feel it through his olive t-shirt.
"I've got you," he whispered. "I've got you both. You're okay."
Maya let go of me and grabbed him with both hands, sobbing into his shoulder. I didn't let go of her. I held onto her vest and onto him. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. His one hand pressed the back of my head, holding me in, and his other arm locked around Maya.
May you like
He wasn't looking at us. Over our heads, he was glaring out. At her. At the people watching. I could feel his jaw tight against my hair.
The woman stayed on her knees beside the bat. She didn't get up. She didn't leave. Her dark hair had fallen forward over her face, and her shoulders rose and fell. The hall went silent again except for Maya crying and our breathing, and the faint clink of ice in a glass somewhere that nobody was drinking.
