“Yeah, that’s what I think,” West added.
“He’s stronger than all the dads,” Fisher continued. “And those people who keep following us.”
“Yeah. Paw got a hook caught in his hand and pushed it all the way through,” Hunter added, his jaw clenching, maybe making my pained expression.
“Daddy,” Livie said. “Do we only go silent if they say it in person to us?” Her big blue eyes were a telltale sign of something that might already have happened.
“What did you do?” Dash asked gently, but perceptively.
“The story about you was on the news station I follow, and they said it was you against your father, and then they talked about our lives, and the facts were all wrong,” she said and paused, looking worried as she added, “I sent an email to them correcting the wrong parts.”
“Livie,” I started, my heart sinking, but Dash raised a hand to stop me.
“Those are the things we can’t do, sweetheart,” he explained. “If they reach out to you, forward their message to me. Do not reply. I know you all want to stand up for each other, that makes me incredibly proud.” Dash placed a hand on his heart, tapping there. “But the people causing grief are trying to distract from the truth.”
Dash leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I took this case because of you three girls. No one should ever be bullied just because someone else holds power over them. What’s happened is grossly wrong, and I couldn’t let it pass. But it means we’re in for a tough fight. The people behind the harm have a lot to lose. They don’t want us to win.”
I reached for Dash’s hand and held it.
“Your paw agrees with me, and he’s not going to do well if you are given a hard time. We want the best kind of world for you to live in.”
“Okay, Daddy,” Mia said. Fisher followed, chirping her response. Dash looked pointedly at each of them. Probably the sternest look he’d ever given them, until he received a nod from each one down the line.
“All right, go get ready for bed. I’ll be up there in a few minutes to brush your hair, and teeth, and deal with your stinky feet,” I said and received a cacophony of groans and nos.
“Abuela, you do it. Paw hurts when he brushes. You don’t,” Ava explained rapidly.
“Okay, come on,” Amelia said, her warmth and caring nature filled the room. “I’ll do nighttime duties tonight.” She pushed away from the table, getting to her feet. The kids scattered. My grip landed on Fisher’s forearm to keep him here with Dash and me.
“I can tell you’re trying really hard and we’re proud of you. Be proud of yourself too,” Dash said, rising to go to the other side of Fisher’s chair. Our boy didn’t lack confidence. He jumped up, shoes on the seat, obviously knowing Dash was going to give him a hug. Fisher launched up before Dash was ready to catch him, but luckily managed it, squeezing Fisher tightly.
“I’m proud of you too, Daddy. Can you help me protect people the way you do,” Fisher sing-songed, bouncing his head back and forth. What an interesting interpretation of what he saw his dad doing. Then his legs locked around Dash’s waist. “Take me upstairs!” The grip he had on Dash’s fine dress shirt tightened.
“I will but show me how you plan to ignore anything ugly said about any of us.”
Fisher gave an instant angry look.
Dash shook his head no.
It took a moment of thought before his face went passive.
“Good boy. This house and your family are a safe place for you to react.”
“Yes, sir!” His fist charged into the air.
Fisher tried to whistle to gain Duke and Dixie’s attention. This time it worked, Dixie lifted her head. Duke followed. They lumbered to their feet.
“Perhaps it’s time to remove the gates,” Dash said to me, though Fisher, of course took the lead.
“Hunter’s tall enough now. He only falls when I push him.”
Dixie came between my legs for a rub down. The weight of the world seemed to hover over us like a dark cloud, but not inside these walls. I hoped it stayed out, giving Dash the safe place he tried to give to everyone else.
Dash
October 2024
Lately, deafening silence was my constant companion. The drive from my office to home was once filled with tunes from my lifelong love of music. Last summer, I’d begun a deep dive into revisiting the styles of music from the twenties. The 1920s. An era that fascinated me. I believed it was the foundation of the music we knew today. But was it really?
