Page 64 of Red Hot Harmony

“Darn it.” I tried to think of something. “Can we get some fans?”

“I’m sure we can, but what’s a fan—even it’s an industrial one—against the Santa Anas?” She wrung her hands. “I told her to just do this indoors.”

“Well, you know how she is. She’s your best friend.” With that, I headed down to the part of the house designated for the event stuff, in hopes of recruiting a couple of people for fan duty.

I was in the kitchen, explaining what I needed to get done, when Willy rushed in, all red, eyes dark and worried.

“Camille!” He paused to inhale and exhale and it was so loud that I felt his panic in my bones.

“What’s going on?” I blurted out, forgetting about the fans.

“It’s Ally and Loretta. They are having a fight. Literally.”

We ran down the corridor and into the back yard where a sizable number of people had already gathered around my kid and one of my nieces who I didn’t really know all that well. They were engaged in some kind of hair pulling sumo-like altercation.

“Stop it!” I pushed past the press of bodies and launched myself between the girls, damn the consequences. “Ally, stop it!”

They were an angry tangle of skinny arms, chipped nails, and ripped skirts, and I tried to physically drag my daughter away from Loretta while yelling, “Stop it, both of you!”

Somewhere in the middle of all this, I heard a familiar voice, a warm presence next to me.

“Back it up, you two, Tate and Rousey!”

Harper.

More adults joined in and soon, we were able to successfully extricate one from the other.

“What is wrong with you two!” I shouted, my voice trembling, my gaze darting from Ally to Loretta, who had a nasty scratch across her cheek.

“She started it!” my daughter half sobbed and half screamed.

“Liar!” Loretta grimaced. Her mother finally came to her side and held her by the elbow.

Ally was restrained by Harper.

My parents weaved their way into the innermost part of the circle, my mother’s face twisted with horror, my father’s expression stricken and drooped.

“Apologize to Grandma and Grandpa,” I demanded, only now noticing a huge orange stain running down the front of my daughter’s dress.

The girls were quiet, eyes downcast all of a sudden.

“This is not the way to behave,” Loretta’s mother said sternly.

I figured we’d still need to discuss what had happened between our adolescent kids, but doing it now seemed inappropriate.

First—damage control.

Everything else—later, in private.

“I’m sorry,” Ally said, kicking up the grass with the tip of her shoe.

Loretta also apologized.

“Okay, show’s over!” Harper began hustling everyone away. “Please, carry on.”

“She started it,” my daughter hissed through her teeth on the way to the house. She stomped past the guests, dress and hair in disarray, fists tightly coiled.

I followed her to the room where we’d gotten ready.

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