Page 88 of Rescued by the Single Dad

That was Brooke’s invitation.

She awkwardly stood back up and limped into Talia’s room, sitting on the corner of her bed and running her hand gently over the little girl’s silky curls that spread out over her mermaid bedspread. “Want to talk about it?”

Talia shook her head.

“Okay. We can just sit here. We don’t have to talk. Or you don’t. I might. If that’s okay?”

The sobs were muffled against the bed, and her little body trembled with each stuttered breath. She peeled her head up enough to look at Brooke, though and stiffly nodded.

Smiling, Brooke just continued to run her hand over the top of Talia’s head, the way Brooke’s mother used to do for her when Brooke would get upset.

Despite her mother’s flaws, she’d done the best she could, given the circumstances. She loved her kids deeply and protected them as best she could. But she’d been weak. Trapped. There was only so much she could do given the power and rage Brooke’s father held over their heads like an anvil dangling by a fraying cable.

“One time when I was about your age, maybe a little younger, I came running home from school so upset because Albert Walter had called me stupid.”

Even though Talia’s body still trembled, the quivers were less, and the sobs grew quieter. She was listening.

“I told my mom, and she asked me, ‘Well, are you stupid?’”

“I shook my head, because of course I wasn’t. I knew I wasn’t. I was a great speller and good at math. I wasn’t stupid.”

Talia turned her head and gazed up at Brooke with red-rimmed, watery blue eyes, waiting for Brooke to finish the story.

Brooke swept the little girl’s hair off her face but continued to stroke. “So then, my mother smiled and said, ‘Then his words are just hot air coming out of a hole in his face. They’re wrong and they mean nothing. You choose when that hot air hurts you. When it’s steam and burns. The bully doesn’t get to choose.’”

Talia blinked big eyes as Brooke’s words sunk in.

“I still have to deal with bullies. People who don’t like my movies. They say I can’t act or that there’s nothing special about me. But I know that I make good movies. I know that I’m special. So their words are just hot air coming out of a hole in their faces. But I don’t let that hot air burn me. I let it disappear in the wind.”

“We’re making gifts for Mother’s Day at school,” Talia said, her breath coming out shaky.

Ah. Yeah, that had to be tough.

“And Barnacle started making fun of me for not having a mom. He asked who I was going to give my present to.” Her bottom lip wobbled.

Brooke blinked a few times and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Barnacle? Is that the name of a kid in your class?”

She nodded and giggled.

“Well, first of all, that kid has one of the worst names in the world. Is his brother’s name Clam?”

Talia giggled again and shook her head. “He doesn’t have any brothers or sisters.”

“Does he at least go by Barney?”

“His parents won’t let him. They say barnacles are strong and resilient. That it’s a good name. That’s what he says anyway when people ask about his name.”

“So is concrete but you don’t name your kid that.”

Talia’s giggle eased the strain in Brooke’s chest.

“Back to Barnacle and his teasing, though. That was probably really hard to hear, and it hurt like he intended it to, huh?”

She nodded. “I mean, I know his parents are going through a divorce, so he’s lashing out. That’s what I heard one of the teachers telling another teacher. But it still hurt.” She swallowed. “But I guess I let it hurt me?”

“It takes practice not to let words hurt. Trust me. Even at thirty-two, I still let a few mean words hit my heart and cause pain. It’s hard to ignore them all if there are enough.”

“I’m sorry people try to hurt you.”

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