Page 4 of The Sleight Before Christmas

She palms her mouth as if it will actually silence her as I turn to Peyton. “You can forget about your Rail Ride tickets. Gone. That fan will cost a few hundred dollars to replace.”

“Daddy, no!” Peyton’s face twists, and I flinch inside as his eyes threaten to well with tears.

“I love you both more than life, but that woman ...” I point in the direction Serena fled. “I don’t recognize her anymore. And do you know why?” I wait a good minute until their collective whines quiet. “Because she spends ninety percent of her time taking care of you and begging you to take care of yourselves and each other.”

It’s then a notion strikes me, and without thinking it through, I start speaking it. “As of right now, you’re both about to learn the hard way that no one is coming to save you from yourselves.”

“What’s that mean?” Gracie asks, a hint of fear in her voice, but not enough.

“That means we leave for Grammy and Gramp’s in two days. If I get one more call to pick you up from school,” I declare to Gracie before I flit my gaze to Peyton, “or I trip over one more toy or have to patch more drywall, youget nothing, and I meannothingfor Christmas.”

“Daddy, Rudolph won’t come?” Peyton asks, aghast, everything in his expression as if he should have a hand to his chest.

Gracie immediately opens her mouth, eyes glinting with the damage she intends to do. “God, Peyton. Don’t you know? Rudolph isn’t—”

“Finish that sentence,” I warn, “and I swear to God, you will hate your life more than you’re showing me you do, Gracie O’Neal. You know what? I’m taking off Christmas list items six and ten justfor thinkingof doing that to your brother.”

“You can’t do that!” Gracie screeches.

“I just did. You’re going to learn to speak, not scream, even if I have to strip you of everything. Do you hear me? You’ve been screaming for three damned years, you’re done.”

“Daddy, no Rail Ride?” Peyton questions again, lips trembling.

I take a knee in front of my son and command his eyes. “Peyton, did you know you shouldn’t swing from your ceiling fan?”

“Yes,” he answers instantly, and I find myself missing the days when ‘mep’ was his standard answer. Where his innocence and youth could stifle some of my disappointment in his behavior. But he does know better. Both do, which only reinforces my decision.

“Why did you?” I prompt.

“I dunno.”

“Did you know it was wrong and you would get hurt or in trouble?” I continue.

“Yes.” Another instant reply that has me sinking in my skin.

“And you did it anyway?” I barely get the words out because it’s obvious there’s so little remorse in him.

“Yes.”

“That’s why, Peyton.That’s why,” I sigh.

I turn to my oldest and shake my head. “And you. You want to be a grown-up and not have your parents looking over your shoulder? Well then, you have to grow up. I can’t trust you with your brother fortendamned minutes. So, guess what? Like your mom, I’m done, too. I’m done giving you what you want other than a lack of a parent.”

“Dad, I need twenty dollars for the Friendsmas basket swap.”

She didn’t hear a word. Not one. “Guess you’ll be the only friend who doesn’t have one.”

“That’s not fair!” She shouts.

“Scream one more time, Gracie, and the whole list disappears, the whole damned thing.”

“I’m sorry,” she retorts, barely above a whisper.

“Ah, so you are capable of talking,” I say. Opening the door to free myself, I pull the plug on Peyton’s TV with my order. “Bed,now.”

“I have to brush my teeth,” he protests.

“Why? You don’t do it anyway. You mess around in there and paint the walls with the paste. Bed. Now.”

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