Beau glanced down at me, then past me to the agent before rolling his eyes and heading toward the back door. “I’ll be on the porch if you need me.”
“Perfect,” I murmured, exhaling slowly. As much as I hated to admit it, I could already see a full CPS investigation looming on the horizon. We had nothing to hide, but even the process could be damaging if spun the wrong way.
Turning back to the trio, I forced a polite smile. Inside, I was fighting an internal battle, every nerve ending in my body screaming to stay sharp.
This wasn’t about me or my family. We were in a battle of right versus wrong, good versus evil.
I led the three into the living room, my mind already mapping the conversation. Calm, measured, and cooperative. Every word, every gesture, had to serve the bigger picture. We couldn’t let my father’s theatrics derail the truth. Yes, I misjudged how fast things would deteriorate, but I was caught up now.
I squared my shoulders, ready for the fight of my life.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
24: The Shred
Beau/Dash
“Paw, this must be serious. Everyone’s at the table at once, and there’s no food, or drinks,” Ava quipped from her usual spot at the kitchen table. Her legs swung back and forth beneath her chair, the rhythmic motion a sign of her restless energy. “Lay it on us.”
I hesitated but met her gaze. My firebrand of a daughter who, of all the children, needed to absorb this warning the most. She had to learn to control her outbursts starting right now.
“This is serious, Ava. Out of everyone here, you need to heed this message the most.”
“What happened today is likely to occur again. I want you prepared,” Dash started from his seat beside me.
“What happened today?” Livie asked, her natural curiosity shining through.
“Hold your questions to the end, sweetheart,” I said. “Otherwise, we’ll never get through what your dad needs to say.” Another tough request, Livie questioned everything in an effort to get to that higher plane of knowledge. “Remember, your dad’s case has been tough, but he’s standin’ up for people who’ve been harassed badly and can’t stand up for themselves. It’s important that he follows through to the end.”
West’s hand shot in the air. A small smile tugged at my lips despite the seriousness of the moment. “Can it wait, West?”
“I don’t know. What’s harass mean?” he asked innocently. West was a good guy. Not sweet like Fisher or tough like Hunter. He’d wanted to get it right and needed to know more.
Dash’s hands quietly slapped on the table, drawing attention to him. “In this case, harass means treating women badly.” The ripple effect was immediate. Four additional hands shot in the air, followed by Hunter’s hand, who looked more like he was mimicking the others than truly needing any clarification.
“My girls and boys, hold the questions to the end,” Amelia said. The hands slowly lowered.
“I feel strongly that you’re going to hear bad, crazy, untrue things about your paw and me. They’ll be mean and hurtful words that will upset you because you know it’s not true. I want you to ignore the bad words. If you can’t ignore it, then absolutely don’t show any emotion. Make your face look blank and never respond. Come home and talk to me or Paw. They’re saying these things to discredit me.”
West’s hand shot up in the air again.
“Discredit is a complicated word. In this case it means, the bad side is trying to make me look bad instead of them. If you act out, or respond, they will make you look like the bad one too, not them. Do you understand?”
West’s face looked uncertain.
“Daddy, I’m not going to do well with anyone talking bad about my family,” Ava said, her shoulders slumping, seeing the task as insurmountable.
“Ava, sweetheart, I need you to let your dad handle this. I’m like you. I don’t like seein’ your dad made to look bad. It’s incredibly hard on me, because I see him in the opposite way. He’s a great man. He’s my best friend, but in this case, we have to do what he asks of us. If we have an outburst, it makes his job harder,” I explained.
Dash took the pivot, never breaking in our explanation. “If you hear anything about your paw and me, or about the way our family lives, keep your head down and your mouth closed and absolutely no more stomping on crayons, got it?”
“For forever?” Ava blurted in outrage. “Because it’s not fair that they can say whatever they want and we can’t.”
“It’s called taking the high road,” Livie said reasonably. “We’ve been taught to do that for our whole lives.”
“It’s gonna be hard,” Mia said and reached for Fisher’s shoulder to give an encouraging squeeze, just like Dash and I did. Somehow, we’d gotten a lot of his outbursts down to fidget spinners and leg bouncing. He was trying his best, beautifully. I’d say he was the most sensitive of all with his newfound love of flamingos and sweet nature.
“Paw can beat ’em up,” Fisher said. His expression lifted from the gadget in his hand, morphing from concentration to lightbulb moments of brilliance.
