Page 60 of Second Dance
Alex’s jaw flexed, face flushed, his fists clenched at his sides. He looked at the phone, then at Darren, then past both of them to the place where Bella stood frozen. “I’ll call the sheriff unless you leave. Right now.”
On the field, the coach was talking to the ref, both of them gesturing toward the sideline. Parents had stopped pretending not to watch. It was a scene now, and even folks with the best of intentions couldn’t look away.
“I don’t think I want to go just yet.” Darren spread his arms like a showman. His T-shirt was wrinkled and two sizes too big, a streak of something dark across the hem. “You don’t get to decide where a father can watch his own child. No restraining order, no court paperwork—nothing. You’ve got nothing.” He leaned closer to Alex. “Unless you want to try to make me leave.” He lifted his brows and then, almost sweetly, added for the camera, “Go on. Hit me.”
Greasy chuckled and swung in tight on Alex’s face. I stepped forward without thinking, putting myself on a diagonal line that cut the frame. “Stop the camera,” I said, more firmly than I felt. “It’s illegal to film children.”
“Public place,” Greasy said, clearly delighted with himself. “First Amendment, sweetheart.”
Feeling almost outside of my own body, I stepped closer and reached for his phone, but he lifted it above his head and shoved me away with his free hand. I went down, falling to my knees.
That did it. Alex lost control, lunging toward Greasy and knocking the phone from his hand, then punched him squarely in the face. Greasy, like a cornered bear, came back at him, but Alex was too quick and strong. He tripped Greasy, sending him onto the grass.
Alex held out his hand to help me to my feet, but, before he could, Darren propelled himself toward him, hitting Alex in the jaw. Darren shouted out to Bella, “He never adopted you legally. You can come live with me.”
Bella’s body went rigid. “What?” Her voice cracked on the single word, high and disbelieving. Even from the sideline, I could hear it—thin and shrill, like glass breaking.
“Bella,” Alex said, spinning toward her, his chest heaving. “Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
But Darren had scented blood. He staggered forward, pointing an accusing finger at Alex. “Ask him yourself. He never made it official. He’s not your father.”
Gasps rippled through the parents in their folding chairs. Delphine clutched my arm again, her nails digging through the fabric. On the field, Annie tugged at Bella’s sleeve, trying to pull her back toward the bench, but Bella seemed rooted to the grass, wide-eyed, frozen.
The crowd had gone completely silent in a collective held breath.
Alex turned fully toward his daughter. His face was flushed, jaw tight, but his eyes shone with something closer to anguish than anger. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Come on. Let’s go home.”
“You don’t have to go with him,” Darren crowed, turning back to his audience with a triumphant flourish. “You’re my daughter.”
“Shut your mouth,” Alex snarled, lunging again.
Two dads from the sidelines leapt up, grabbing Alex’s arms, holding him back before he could land another punch. “Alex, don’t,” one of them said firmly. “Not in front of the kids.”
“Yeah, yeah. Let go of me,” Alex said, twisting from their grasp, and lunging toward Darren once again.
“Alex, please stop,” I said. “Bella’s watching you.”
This seemed to penetrate Alex’s addled mind because he backed away, burying his face in his hands.
“You have no idea what’s coming for you,” I said to Darren, getting close to his face. “You’re going to be very, very sorry you messed with this family. I won’t rest until you’re in jail.”
“Bring it on,” Darren said. He nodded toward Greasy. “Let’s go. We’ve got enough.”
Bella’s knees buckled. Annie caught her around the waist, trying to steady her.
I ran onto the field before anyone could stop me. Parents called out, some angry, some confused, but I didn’t care. I reached Bella and Annie, wrapping an arm around Bella’s trembling shoulders. She stiffened for a second, then sagged into me, her forehead pressing against my collarbone. “It’s not true,” she whispered. “It can’t be true.”
I wrapped my hands around her upper arms and looked her in the eyes. “This is all a misunderstanding. Alex is your father. He loves you more than anything in the world. That’s the only truth that matters right now.”
Behind us, Darren shouted, “You’ve been lied to your whole life, Bella. But I’ll tell you the truth. I’m your father, and I’m going to make this right in court.”
The coach’s whistle shrieked again. “That’s enough!” he barked, striding toward Darren. “This is a youth league game, not your circus. Leave now or I’ll call the sheriff myself.”
Darren sneered but backed away.
“Let’s bounce,” Greasy said.
“This isn’t over,” Darren said, before staggering after his friend.
