Chapter 2
I could picture the whole scene in my mind.
Kelly got caught red-handed, and she was pissed and panicked. So she vented her anger on Frank.
It was so easy, so convenient, especially with Leonard there to cover for her.
She was a woman who got ahead by hanging onto a man, and yet she dared to slap my son.
"How did she hit you?" I asked.
Frank paused, looking surprised that I'd want the details.
He lifted his hand to his cheek, showed me how Kelly slapped him, and his shoulders jerked a bit, like he was scared all over again.
"It was loud," he said. "My ears were ringing.
"She said, 'If you don't know any better, get out.'"
Each word slammed into me, making my temples pound with anger.
I reached out and gently touched the area near his ear, and Frank winced, drawing in a sharp breath from the pain.
My hand stopped halfway, suspended in the air.
"Where was your dad?" I asked.
Even I could hear the chill in my own voice.
Frank's tears flowed harder, and he started hiccupping from crying so much.
He choked out, "Dad was right there, but he didn't do anything.
"He glanced at me and told me not to run around, said I shouldn't have come in.
"I wasn't running around, Mom. I wanted to find him."
Before he could finish, Frank clung to me, burying his face in my chest, sobbing so hard that he could barely breathe.
"Mom, did I do something wrong? Why did she hit me?" Frank choked out.
I hugged him tight, my back ramrod straight as I forced myself to hold it together.
Outside, the sky had gone dark, and the light from the room made the slap mark on his face stand out more.
My chest was burning so bad that it felt numb, but I had to swallow it all down. I couldn't let Frank see how furious I was.
"You didn't do anything wrong," I said softly.
I patted his head gently.
I told him. "It's never wrong to want to find your dad. Even if you forgot to knock, that doesn't mean she gets to lay a hand on you.
"And she had no right to yell at you."
Frank looked up at me, his eyes red and swollen from crying.
"Really?" he asked.
"Really," I said.
I grabbed a wet wipe and gently wiped his face.
"They're the ones who messed up, not you," I said.
I kept my voice steady, not even a hint of shakiness.
The steadier I spoke, the more frozen I felt inside.
Frank was exhausted from crying, slumped against me, his little body still cold from outside, his school uniform sleeve rubbing against my arm.
I took off his backpack and set it aside, then dug out the first aid kit.
I soaked a towel in cold water, wrung it out, and gently pressed it to his cheek.
"If it hurts, tell me," I said softly.
"Mm, okay," he mumbled.
He replied in a small voice, his eyes still red and puffy.
"Mom, does Dad not like me anymore?" Frank asked.
My hand paused for a moment.
Adults made a mess, but it was the kid who ended up with his heart broken.
Leonard had no shame, and he was making his own son question himself.
I used to think that as long as Frank had a complete family, I could grit my teeth and put up with anything.
But now? Screw that.
If I kept letting this slide, these people would walk all over my son and me.
"No," I said.
I pressed the towel gently against his cheek.
"He can't see what's right in front of him," I said.
"Huh?" Frank blinked, confused.
He looked lost.
I pressed my lips together.
"It's okay. Remember this. You're my son, and no one gets to lay a finger on you," I said.
"Okay," Frank mumbled.
"That slap you got today? Mom will get it back for you," I promised.
Frank blinked, his lashes still wet, like he wanted to believe me but was afraid he'd heard wrong.
"Really, Mom?" he asked.
"Yeah, really," I said.
I straightened his collar.
"Sit still, and don't touch your face," I said.
With that, I picked up my phone.
The moment my phone screen lit up, it felt like the whole living room got heavier.
I scrolled to the top of my contacts and hit the top name.
The line started ringing.
One ring. Two. Three.
Frank clutched the towel, staring at me, holding his breath, afraid to even breathe.
Then, the call connected.
The other end was dead silent. I could only hear his breathing, nothing else.
Leonard didn't say a word. He was probably wondering why someone like me, who never caused drama, was calling him.
Maybe he was wondering if I was gonna cry, beg, or start a fight.
He was thinking too much.
I sat on the couch, my hands lying casually on my knees.
"Leonard, your mistress hit Frank. What are you going to do about it?" I said, my voice cold and steady.
There was a pause on the other end.
He didn't say a word.
So he was gonna play dumb.
I glanced down at the red, swollen mark on Frank's face, and any last bit of politeness I had left vanished.
I continued, "Kelly sure has guts. Frank caught her all over you, and instead of feeling ashamed, she slapped him out of anger.
"What? Is Full Health Pharmaceuticals hers to command now? Does she think she can discipline the Morton family's kid, too?"
There was some shuffling on the other end, like someone got up and bumped into something.
I didn't care to listen.
I said sharply, "Don't bother explaining, and don't try to call it a misunderstanding. I'm looking at Frank's face here. The slap mark is plain as day.
"You were standing there, watching Kelly hit him, and you didn't even try to stop her. Leonard, you thought I would pretend it didn't happen, huh?"