Chapter 5 · The Price of Slapping My Son

Frank looked up at me, his eyes still wet with tears.

I finally spoke, "Did you ask your mom to call me, hoping she'd convince me to suck it up? Did it work?"

"I asked her to call?" Leonard shot back, his voice icy.

"She's always butting in. And you? You can't even bother to show a little respect when your elders call."

"If she said something reasonable, I'd show her some respect," I replied flatly. "She's like you.

"She said it was no big deal if Frank got hit, that it was normal for you to have someone on the side, and that I should stop making a fuss. You call that respect?"

He stayed silent.

I didn't wait for him to respond.

I said, "Forget about your mom. Let's get to the point. Only three minutes left, so, is Kelly coming or not?"

"I already told you. There's no way I'm making her come over and bow," Leonard said, his voice hard.

"It was nothing but a slap. If you want an apology, fine, but bowing? No way.

"If you're going to keep pushing this, don't blame me if I start saying things you won't like."

He called it nothing but a slap.

He said it again.

He tossed it out like it was nothing, like he was dusting something off, not like his own kid had been slapped across the face.

"Say that again?" I said, my voice low. "What do you mean, 'nothing but a slap'?"

"Beatrice, don't get hung up on this," Leonard said.

He let out a sigh, that condescending tone creeping back into his voice. "Frank walked into the lounge without knocking or saying a word.

"Anyone would be startled and react. Kelly didn't do it on purpose. She freaked out and couldn't control herself."

Frank was right there, and when he heard Leonard say "walked right in," his face instantly drained of color.

His lips were pressed into a thin line, fingers clenched so tight around the towel that his knuckles turned white.

He kept his head down, eyes locked on the edge of the coffee table, not daring to look up.

All that hurt was written all over his face, but he didn't dare make a sound, like he was scared that crying would only make things harder for everyone else.

I watched him, and my temples started pounding.

"He's five," I said, my voice cutting through the room.

I spelled it out for him, making sure he felt every syllable.

"You let some outsider raise her hand and hit your five-year-old son, and now you expect me to believe it wasn't on purpose?"

"Outsider?" Leonard's voice went icy. "Quit acting like Kelly's an outsider.

"Kelly's been with me for years. I know what kind of person she is. Don't let your bias cloud your judgment."

He knew what kind of person she was.

Kelly was the one messing with him, slapping Frank, and calling him names.

And she was even worse than that.

"I don't care what kind of person she is," I said, pulling Frank closer to me. "All I know is, she hit my son.

"You were right there, watching it happen, and you didn't try to stop her. And now you're still making excuses for her."

Leonard went quiet for a moment.

When he finally spoke, the irritation in his voice was obvious. "If you're going to insist on this, fine, I'll say it straight.

"Kids need to remember their lessons when they mess up. So what if he has to learn the hard way for running around where he shouldn't?"

As soon as those words fell, the living room went silent.

I could hear the ticking of the wall clock, clear as day.

Frank jerked his head up, eyes red and watery, lips trembling. He bit back any sound.

It never crossed his mind that his own father could say something like that.

This wasn't about playing favorites or defending someone else.

Leonard was on the other end of the line, basically telling him he deserved it.

His own son got slapped, but he rushed to defend the outsider.

I dropped my gaze, staring at the red, swollen mark on Frank's face. The skin was still warm, and the five fingerprints stood out.

Suddenly, I didn't feel like arguing anymore.

All that anger sank, leaving nothing but cold emptiness.

"Leonard," I said, my voice cold and steady. "Watch what you say.

"I've made myself clear."

He didn't budge an inch.

He snapped, "And you, stop using Frank to vent your anger. If you've got a problem with me, bring it to me. Don't drag him into this and make a scene."

Again, he accused me of "making a scene."

Leonard cheated on me, fooled around with another woman at work, got busted by Frank, the woman slapped Frank, and Leonard still took her side. And now he was slapping the "drama queen" label on me.

When someone had no shame, there was no bottom to how low they could sink.

"You think I'm blowing this up to get at you?" I asked softly.

"Isn't that what you're doing?" Leonard shot back.

He was barely keeping his anger in check.

He fumed. "You've never liked Kelly, and now you're using this to make a big deal out of nothing. Beatrice, that's enough. Don't make this uglier than it already is."

"Ugly?" I let out a laugh, a cold, hollow sound, no warmth at all.

I snapped, "You messed with Kelly in the lounge, and when Frank caught you, you stood there and let Kelly slap him. And now you have the nerve to say I'm making this ugly?"

Chapter 5

Frank looked up at me, his eyes still wet with tears.

I finally spoke, "Did you ask your mom to call me, hoping she'd convince me to suck it up? Did it work?"

"I asked her to call?" Leonard shot back, his voice icy.

"She's always butting in. And you? You can't even bother to show a little respect when your elders call."

"If she said something reasonable, I'd show her some respect," I replied flatly. "She's like you.

"She said it was no big deal if Frank got hit, that it was normal for you to have someone on the side, and that I should stop making a fuss. You call that respect?"

He stayed silent.

I didn't wait for him to respond.

I said, "Forget about your mom. Let's get to the point. Only three minutes left, so, is Kelly coming or not?"

"I already told you. There's no way I'm making her come over and bow," Leonard said, his voice hard.

"It was nothing but a slap. If you want an apology, fine, but bowing? No way.

"If you're going to keep pushing this, don't blame me if I start saying things you won't like."

He called it nothing but a slap.

He said it again.

He tossed it out like it was nothing, like he was dusting something off, not like his own kid had been slapped across the face.

"Say that again?" I said, my voice low. "What do you mean, 'nothing but a slap'?"

"Beatrice, don't get hung up on this," Leonard said.

He let out a sigh, that condescending tone creeping back into his voice. "Frank walked into the lounge without knocking or saying a word.

"Anyone would be startled and react. Kelly didn't do it on purpose. She freaked out and couldn't control herself."

Frank was right there, and when he heard Leonard say "walked right in," his face instantly drained of color.

His lips were pressed into a thin line, fingers clenched so tight around the towel that his knuckles turned white.

He kept his head down, eyes locked on the edge of the coffee table, not daring to look up.

All that hurt was written all over his face, but he didn't dare make a sound, like he was scared that crying would only make things harder for everyone else.

I watched him, and my temples started pounding.

"He's five," I said, my voice cutting through the room.

I spelled it out for him, making sure he felt every syllable.

"You let some outsider raise her hand and hit your five-year-old son, and now you expect me to believe it wasn't on purpose?"

"Outsider?" Leonard's voice went icy. "Quit acting like Kelly's an outsider.

"Kelly's been with me for years. I know what kind of person she is. Don't let your bias cloud your judgment."

He knew what kind of person she was.

Kelly was the one messing with him, slapping Frank, and calling him names.

And she was even worse than that.

"I don't care what kind of person she is," I said, pulling Frank closer to me. "All I know is, she hit my son.

"You were right there, watching it happen, and you didn't try to stop her. And now you're still making excuses for her."

Leonard went quiet for a moment.

When he finally spoke, the irritation in his voice was obvious. "If you're going to insist on this, fine, I'll say it straight.

"Kids need to remember their lessons when they mess up. So what if he has to learn the hard way for running around where he shouldn't?"

As soon as those words fell, the living room went silent.

I could hear the ticking of the wall clock, clear as day.

Frank jerked his head up, eyes red and watery, lips trembling. He bit back any sound.

It never crossed his mind that his own father could say something like that.

This wasn't about playing favorites or defending someone else.

Leonard was on the other end of the line, basically telling him he deserved it.

His own son got slapped, but he rushed to defend the outsider.

I dropped my gaze, staring at the red, swollen mark on Frank's face. The skin was still warm, and the five fingerprints stood out.

Suddenly, I didn't feel like arguing anymore.

All that anger sank, leaving nothing but cold emptiness.

"Leonard," I said, my voice cold and steady. "Watch what you say.

"I've made myself clear."

He didn't budge an inch.

He snapped, "And you, stop using Frank to vent your anger. If you've got a problem with me, bring it to me. Don't drag him into this and make a scene."

Again, he accused me of "making a scene."

Leonard cheated on me, fooled around with another woman at work, got busted by Frank, the woman slapped Frank, and Leonard still took her side. And now he was slapping the "drama queen" label on me.

When someone had no shame, there was no bottom to how low they could sink.

"You think I'm blowing this up to get at you?" I asked softly.

"Isn't that what you're doing?" Leonard shot back.

He was barely keeping his anger in check.

He fumed. "You've never liked Kelly, and now you're using this to make a big deal out of nothing. Beatrice, that's enough. Don't make this uglier than it already is."

"Ugly?" I let out a laugh, a cold, hollow sound, no warmth at all.

I snapped, "You messed with Kelly in the lounge, and when Frank caught you, you stood there and let Kelly slap him. And now you have the nerve to say I'm making this ugly?"