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He sticks his tongue in his cheek.
“Your punishment for breaking the flowerpot on purpose is washing the kitchen pots after dinner.”
He cuts his gaze to me quickly and opens his mouth to no doubt argue, but I hold up a finger.
“Because you tried to hide it, you’ll also load the dishwasher and unpack it when it’s done. And, seeing that your brothers knew but decided to say nothing, all three of you will rake the pine needles in the backyard tomorrow.”
He exhales through his nose, making his nostrils flare. “That’s not fair.”
“That’s more than fair. I can always add chores to the list if you’d like to argue further.”
He clamps his lips together.
“Go wash up.” I take the broken shards. “This needs to be wrapped in paper before we put it in the trash so that no one cuts their fingers on it. We better repot the plant after you’ve tidied the kitchen.”
He pouts but turns to follow my order. I watch him as he walks off with heavy steps and inward-curling shoulders, imitating a sulking hulk. I heave a sigh of my own. Can we just have one day without incidents?
The ringtone I reserve for the school sounds in my pocket.
Apparently not.
I pull out my phone and swipe across the screen before pressing it against my ear.
“Mr. Russo? It’s Mrs. Nieddo, the principal. My apologies for calling so late, but one of the parents just contacted me about an incident that took place at school today.”
“What happened?”
“Johan sold drugs to one of the pupils.”
I blow out a long breath. “What kind of drugs?”
“Marijuana.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I say, “I’ll take the issue up with him. How would you like to handle it from your side?”
“I don’t have a choice but to suspend him for a couple of days with a written warning. If it happens again, he’ll be expelled indefinitely. Social services may suggest a school for children with behavioral problems.” She hesitates. “The parents may decide to file charges. In that case—”
“Yeah. I know. Drug dealing and selling to a minor.”
She clears her throat. “We take this very seriously at my school, Mr. Russo.”
“Understood,” I bite out. “It won’t happen again.”
“Let’s hope so.” She hesitates.
“Was there anything else?” I ask with impatience, eager to end this conversation.
“I, um—I don’t know how to phrase this, but you’re not going to, eh-hem,make problemsfor the school or the parents of the plaintiff?”
Meaning, am I going to shoot anyone? “No,” I drawl. “I’m not going tomake problems.”
“All right.” She sounds relieved. “That’s good to know. It’s my duty to deal with this, but I don’t want trouble.”
“You won’t have any,” I say in a dry tone. “Good evening, Mrs. Nieddo.”
Her voice is high-pitched. “Have a good weekend, Mr. Russo.”
“I’ll try.”
