Page 73 of Tell Me Softly
My father just shrugged it off. I’d imagined he’d stalk out of the room like a wild beast—I thought it would be like the Third World War—but it wasn’t even close. Now that I was older, I could understand that he hadn’t because he wanted to catch them at it. My mother was sneaky and she was a liar, and my father knew that if there was no more proof than a ten-year-old girl’s word, any accusation he’d made would go nowhere. My mother would have just made up excuses and been more careful in the future.
***
The rain started falling harder now, and I knew it was time to go back home. The pain in my chest was dreadful, but I got on my bike and started riding. It was later than I’d realized, and my bike didn’t have any lights or reflective stickers. I was scared, especially when the cold crept into my bones and I realized I could hardly see.
I reached for my phone and remembered I was still being punished. No one would come to get me. I could only hope that the rain would let up, that I wouldn’t freeze or skid or get hit by a car.
I wiped the water off my face and prayed I’d get home safely. I was pedaling hard and my eyes were on the road, but the only thing in my mind was that party from long ago.
***
My mother and Travis had disappeared even before it was time to blow out the candles. I saw my father stand up and walk off looking for them. I had stopped playing, and there was a strange pause…then the racket from inside the house reached everyone, including those of us sitting on the far edge of the lawn.
“You goddamn son of a bitch!”
I looked over at Thiago, who had been sticking a piece of chicken into the chocolate fountain but had stopped, trying to catch his mother’s eye. Katia was on the ground just then, helping to paint the faces of the littler kids who had come to the party. We heard more noise, glass breaking, and my mother shouting. Someone turned off the music just as Thiago’s mother stood and looked at the house, pale as death.
“They’re going to kill each other! Somebody separate them!” one of the guests shouted.
Katia Di Bianco ran inside, but before she could get there, my father and Travis burst out, fists raised. My father’s clothes were torn. Travis was dressed just in his pants.
Katia froze, looking utterly lost, just as my mother hurried out.
Looking at Travis, I saw red streaks all over his neck and chest. Mom had picked a bad day to wear red lipstick. A bad day to cheat on her husband with the father of a little girl who was just turning four years old: Lucy, Taylor and Thiago’s little sister.
Thiago ran over to the men, trying to stop them. He was a child, but he was almost as tall as his father already, and he was brave enough to get in the middle, shouting, “Stop!” Two other men came over and pulled my father and Travis apart.
“You were supposed to be my friend!” Dad shouted, looking almost insane. “That’s my wife! And you…”
I realized his tranquility the night before was just for show. Everything was coming out now. In that moment, I felt somebody grab my hand. I looked over to see it was Taylor.
“Kami, what’s happening?” he asked, with tears welling in his eyes.
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t.
They started fighting again. No one could stop them. They destroyed everything in their path. The cake made to look like a castle fell to the ground. They knocked over the bounce house. The chocolate fountain was thrown on the grass alongside the table with the olives, the chips, and the chicken skewers.
Someone finally called the police.
The guests didn’t know what to do or say. And then everyone turned to Katia.
She seemed frozen until she heard the sirens. Lucy’s crying pierced the air, and she returned from her trance to face the humiliation, the deception, the shame…
“Where are my children?” she shouted.
My mother looked at her with sorrow. I felt bad for my mother for the first time in my life.Anne Hamilton had finally had a real feeling, I thought. She probably didn’t even know how to handle it.
They took Dad away in a cop car. I ran behind it crying, shouting for the police to stop.
The last thing I remember my father saying, with tears in his eyes, was, “It’s OK, honey.”
I’d never seen my father cry. It was chaos.
I remember Katia was screaming uncontrollably. “The keys,” she kept screaming. “Where the hell are the keys to my car?!”
Some of the mothers there tried to calm her down, but she pushed off anyone who dared approach her.
Lucy was sitting on the ground crying, and she didn’t stop even when her mother walked over, bent down, and picked her up. Katia took her keys from her purse and hit the unlock button.
