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Clenching my teeth, I wave my hand out to the chaos in front us. “You said twenty-nine children and fifteen adults… Does this look like forty-four people?”
His eyebrows furrowed together as he stared at the herd of people now in the cafeteria…the watering hole of grown-ass men and women, whom I’m sure weren’t in the church at all, stuffing their faces with our food.
“People are selfish by nature; they came because they heard the Callahan name and thought, ‘So what if I wasn’t affected directly, they can afford to give up a few extra plates, drinks, blankets…or straws.” I said the last one looking directly at the freckle-faced woman stuffing straws, into her daughter’s pockets. Of all things…straws?
“Ma’am.” I turned my head to the side as Greyson appeared beside me. His orange hair and thick beard didn’t make him stand out as much normal in this crowd…it was his large build that did that. “The kitchen said they’ve run out of breakfast and will need time to bring out more.”
“More food isn’t necessary,” I said, watching the line grow at the counter. “Less people are.”
“What do you need me to do?” Greyson asked, standing up straighter.
I glanced to Toby, waiting for him to stand up straighter as well. He forced a smile before doing the same.
“We can start asking people to leave,” he said.
“I’m not asking; get me a microphone,” I said, walking them to the front of the room when all of a sudden, a young voice yelled out.
“FIGHT!”
And like the craven people they were, everyone turned to watch yet no one attempted to stop it, not even my brother’s men.
Father, give me strength, I thought as moved toward the “fight”, Toby immediately pushing against the rising crowd.
“Take it back!”
“You take it back, you stupid—”
“GET OFF HIM!” a blonde-haired woman in her late forties screamed, pushing one of the boys away and hugging her son or grandson to herself. “How dare you?”
“He started it!” the other boy yelled, wiping his nose on his arm, ready to charge again. And if it wasn’t for his friends holding him back, he would have.
“Marco, stop!” One of them yelled as they tried to hold on to his arm.
“Say it again,” the boy—Marco, apparently—sneered at the other one. “Say it again! Call me Guido again!”
The moment the word came out of his mouth, more than few of the men who hadn’t been paying attention turned to look at the coward with blond hair.
“I don’t know what you are talking about!” he lied.
“How dare you make up such a lie!” she yelled back.
“I’m not lying—”
“You are, too!”
“And why don’t we just stop there,” I said politely, a fake smile on my face as I walked into the makeshift circle. Everyone’s eyes turned to me. “It’s been a stressful time for all of us—”
“I want an apology!” Marco yelled, yanking his arm away from his friends to stand on his own. He wasn’t look at me. I wasn’t sure if he could see anything other than the target of his rage. So, I stepped in front of him and snapped my fingers.
“Hi,” I smiled again. I just know I’m going to have massage my cheeks tonight. “Do you know who I am?”
He frowned, looking at me for long time, until one of his friends whispered more than a little loudly, “It’s Ethan Callahan’s sister.”
You little shit.
“Orlah.” A few others whispered.
“Ethan Callahan’s sister has a name and it’s Donatella.” I tried to speak with as little venom as possible. “And I said this fight is over. So, it’s over. Am I clear?”
