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“She’s too good for you too,” he spits.
“The greatest gift a father can give his children is to love their mother and to treat her with respect. My pop taught me that, not with his words, but by the way he looked at, spoke to, and handled my mother every day of my life. He didn’t need to say it. He lived it, but you’re gonna have to live with the guilt of what you put your wife and the mother of your child through. I know that she left because she was ashamed, but you’re the one who should feel shame for the rest of your days. And I know she’s too good for me, but I’m willing to spend the rest of my life trying to be good enough for her.”
He looks over my shoulder to where the girls are sitting in the car.
I know they can hear every word.
I don’t care.
The front door opens again, and Caleb reappears.
“I’m ready,” he calls.
Damon smiles at his son. “So am I.”
He calls out to Taeli, “I’ll have him back before I head to the airport.”
“Okay. Just text me when you’re on your way,” she yells out the back window.
Caleb looks at me. “Can we check on the theme park tomorrow?” he asks.
“Sure we can. You go have fun with your dad.”
He breaks away and runs down to me. He wraps his arms around my waist and squeezes. “Thanks,” he says.
I place a hand on his head. “You’re welcome.”
“That four-hour window is dwindling, Caleb,” Damon says.
He releases me, and then he trots back over and takes his father’s hand.
Taeli, Erin, and Jena exit the vehicle and stand with me as we watch the two of them drive away.
Erin pats my back. “You handled that well, big boy,” she praises.
“Yeah, I would’ve kneed him in the nuts, for sure. Way to keep your crazy tucked in,” Jena adds.
“Uh-oh. Here come the blue-haired gangsters,” Erin says as Leona’s Jeep comes screeching to a halt in front of us, my mother riding shotgun.
“What are you doing?” Taeli asks when they step out.
“Coming to help,” Leona says.
“Help how exactly?” I ask.
She shrugs.
“You’re here to watch the carnage,” Taeli accuses.
“No, we’re not.”
People rush to see the wreckage and delight in others’ suffering. It might sound cynical, but it’s true.
Traffic is brought to a standstill while onlookers gawk at an accident by the side of the road. Bystanders use their phones to video a fire or an arrest. Viewers watch footage of damage caused by floods or hurricanes with bated breath.
Cyberbullies sit behind a computer screen and tear some teenagers down for their amusement. It’s all just one big, ugly crowd-pleaser. Like when we’d all go running outside to watch when someone yelled, “Fight,” in the school cafeteria.
“Yes, you are. But it’s okay. We all do it. Why do you think Jena rushed over with the popcorn? The ancient Romans actually forced people to fight to the death for sport, and the people of Massachusetts cheered at the Salem witch trials. We’re all masochists at heart. It’s human nature,” Erin says.
Leona turns to her. “You scare me sometimes.”
Erin just grins.
