“What is it?” she asks, miffed. She thought he was right behind her.
He points at a photo and tries to speak, but the words stick to his tongue like wet sand on a damp bathing suit. He punches the air and roughly points at the photo, begging her to understand. Olivia motions with her hands for him to be quiet, glances back at her parents’ bedroom door, and makes her way over to him and studies the family portrait that has his attention. The photo was taken Olivia’s senior year in high school during Dwight’s third and last campaign. She was seventeen, Lucas fifteen, and Lily twelve and a half. Big brown eyes fill Lily’s face. Braces hug her teeth. A flat chest doesn’t deter from her budding beauty.
Josh squeezes his eyes shut and bangs his head with his fists. He’s literally trying to beat the words out.
Familiar with his signs of distress, Olivia pockets the mangled paper clip and gently touches his shoulder. “Look at me. Josh, hey,” she says, urging him to come with her outside before Charlotte hears them. The fresh air and openness will calm him down. They can return later.
His eyes snap open and he makes a grab for the photo. “Shh. Don’t do that,” Olivia loudly whispers. She slaps a hand to the frame so the photo remains mounted. “Take a breath, Josh. Relax and talk your way through this. What’s wrong with this picture? Are you looking for your mom? She’s right here, see?” She prompts him like she’d read about for people with aphasia. Spell out the words. Give them the chance to speak.
His face reddens and a word pops from his mouth like a truck backfiring. “Bad.”
“The photo or the people in it?” Olivia’s gaze rakes over the family portrait. Charlotte had wanted a magazine spread when SLO Life featured her as a top real estate broker in the county. California Living used the same photo when the publication featured a sneak peek inside their custom-built home during Dwight’s campaign. Taken in the backyard, Dwight and Lucas wore tuxedos. They looked dashing in black with their silk ties. Charlotte, along with Olivia and Lily, wore champagne gowns with all the sparkle and glitz found at an Oscars after-party. Their dresses shimmered in the golden hour sunlight. Wind cut across the yard at the perfect moment, ruffling Lucas’s hair and lifting her cinnamon locks and Lily’s long auburn tresses off their shoulders the moment the photographer snapped the shot. A glamorous pose that rivaled that of any family of status. The photographer won a coveted award for the photo. Dwight posted the image on the About Us page of his corporate website. The photo, along with the accompanying articles, cemented the Carsons as a family to watch, much to Charlotte’s delight. How I wish my daddy could see me now, Olivia recalls her mom remarking on more than one occasion about the grandfather Olivia had never met.
If people could see them now.
What a mess the Carsons have become.
“Bad.” Josh jabs at the glass. The photo swings on its hook.
“Careful.” Olivia fixes the frame. There’s a larger version of this photo above the living room fireplace, but Charlotte will still have a conniption if anything happens to this one. It’s her favorite of all the portraits in the hallway.
“Bad.” Josh knocks her shoulder, pushing her back.
“Hey.” She stumbles against the wall.
“Bad. Bad.” He yanks the photo off the wall, ripping out the nail along with. Drywall dust sprinkles to the floor like snow.
Charlotte comes out of her room, tucking a pale-blue blouse into cream slacks, her makeup partially applied. Only one cheek has been rouged. Her lips are unadorned, making the color above her eyes stand out. She looks waifish, like a model in a designer label ad. “What’s going on?” She stops when she sees Josh. “Why’s he here?”
“Bad,” he yells, showing Charlotte the photo.
“Put that down,” Charlotte roars, her face deathly pale.
Her reaction sends a ripple of fear through Olivia. Where’s this coming from?
Olivia grips Josh’s arm. “We need to go.”
He shakes her off. “Bad. M-m-man!” He spits the word. Rage fills his eyes. Something else churns there, too.
Heart pulsating in her throat, Olivia looks at the photo. There’s only one man in the picture because Lucas is just a kid, not much older than Josh: her dad.
She asked Charlotte earlier if Dwight found Lily. Her mom didn’t have the chance to answer her. Josh interrupted them.
But Olivia has her answer now.
He was pushed by a bad man.
Her daddy attacked his grandson. Her nephew.
No. Olivia shakes her head. Josh has to be confusing Dwight for someone else. Her dad would never intentionally harm anyone. It has to have been an accident. Olivia feels as shattered as broken glass.
Josh grips her arm. His blunt nails dig into her skin. She winces. His mouth forms nonsensical words.
“Come on.” She takes the photo from him. “We’re going home.” Charlotte yells behind her to save her photo. “It’s fine, Mom.” She finds the nail on the floor and shoves it back into the wall. She hangs the photo, even straightens it as her world crumbles into dust finer than the drywall flakes on the floor.
Josh finally blurts what he’s been struggling to say. “Run!” He pivots, his backpack scraping along the wall. Frames crash to the floor, including the family portrait. Glass shatters.
“My pictures!” Charlotte’s cry is shrill. She folds to the floor.
The front door slams and another crash follows.
“Now what?” Charlotte exclaims.
Olivia hurries to the entryway. Josh slammed the door hard enough to shatter the side window. She feels like she’s looking at her heart. It’s in pieces on the floor. Her dad, the man she admired her entire life, is a bad man. Josh wouldn’t have reacted so violently if it wasn’t Dwight. He wouldn’t be as scared as he is.
Through the open pane, she sees him pace the length of the car, arms folded, head down. He drags the back of his hand across his eyes and glares at the house, only to quickly look away. Olivia watches him, stunned, her head shaking in disbelief. Her throat is so thick with unshed tears that the air gets trapped. Her lungs strain.
“Help me, Olivia.” Charlotte tries to salvage the frames.
Olivia looks from the door to her mom, torn between her and the tormented boy outside.
“Olivia.” Charlotte barks her name when she’s too slow to react. “Do something.”
“I’ll come back later.” Josh needs her. Charlotte only needs a broom.
She runs to the car. When she reaches Josh, she grabs his elbow, startling him. He takes a swing at her. The back of his hand connects with her cheekbone.
She rears back, palm cupped over her cheek. “Ow.” She rubs the burn from her face. “What was that for?”
Josh points at the car. “Go.”
“I’m not leaving you.” He’s scared and confused. She won’t walk away from him, especially now that she has a sense of why Charlotte warned her about Dwight. Did she know? Does she know where Lily is? Was her sister running from Dwight when she and Josh separated?
“Go.” He reaches for the passenger door, and she realizes he’s telling her he wants them to leave.
“All right, we’ll go.” He opens the door and drops into the passenger seat.