Page 12 of Worth the Fall

“Damn, princess,” Matthew howled. “Did he cry?”

She giggled as she sat back down. “No, Uncle, he didn’t cry! But he did run away to tattle.” She made a sour-looking face before taking a too-big bite of her dinner.

“Wait.” Patrick put a hand up. “He told on you?”

“Uh-huh,” she mumbled around the mouthful of food. “And that’s why Miss Shooster wants to talk to you, Daddy.”

“She wants to talk to me, huh?” I leaned back in the chair as a mixture of pride and fear roared through my veins.

Had she done the wrong thing by standing up for herself? Hell no. Could she have gone about it a different way? I wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like Clara had hit the kid, like I currently wanted to do.

“Yeah. There’s a note in my backpack.” She pointed toward where her backpack sat on the couch. “But I didn’t lie, Daddy. Scottisdumb. He gets bad grades a lot. And he is a jerk. I’m not the only person he makes fun of.”

Yeah, this Scott kid was going to have to pack his bags and leave town. Or at least change schools.

“Can’t argue with sound logic.” Patrick shrugged and reached across the table to give his niece a high five, which she enthusiastically gave.

“I’m not sure we should be promoting this?” I tried to say, but it came out in a question instead. It was all I seemed to do lately when it came to being a dad. Second-guessing was now second nature.

“Promoting what? Standing up for herself? Defending her choices? Taking that loser kid to school with the truth? I think we not only promote this behavior, but we reward it,” Matthew chimed in and did the same thing as Patrick, the high-five slap echoing between us.

“Are you mad at me, Daddy?” Clara looked so sad as she waited for my answer.

“No. Your uncles are right. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m proud of you, baby.”

“Thanks, Daddy.” She hopped out of her chair once more, only this time, it was to run and give me a hug. “I mean, would you rather be a weirdo or dumb? It’s a no-brainer, right?”

“Definitely a no-brainer. Weirdo, every day of the week,” I agreed, and she grinned.

Sometimes, that kid of mine was too damn logical for her own good. Unlike that Scott character. I didn’t care that he was only eight. He was now at the top of my shit list.

THE KINGS OF SUGAR MOUNTAIN

THOMAS

Once Clarabel calmed down and got into bed for the night, my brothers and I headed into the living room and sat down on the couches, fresh drinks in hand. I hadn’t planned on having them over, but now that they were here, I could talk to them about the work ideas and issues.

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