“I hope you’re all feeling a bit more peaceful now,” I snapped as I gathered up the children and left, with Charlie calling one last apology to poor Toby Hinkle before the door closed behind us.
Chapter Fifteen
Jack
The day had been a shitshow. From a surprise meeting with the Tarringtons in the morning, which ultimately came down to them pushing their daughter on me for half an hour, to subsequently running late from that point forward, to an emergency meeting jammed on to the end of the day…I was ready to get home, eat some dinner, and have a quiet evening with my family.
“Please, let the kids have been good,” I said as I pulled into the driveway. “Let today have been as easy as an old black and white sitcom.” Funny how that prayer didn’t have as much weight behind it as it used to. Ever since Amelia entered our lives, things had been calming down. More often than not, I came home to happy kids and always, always, I came home to a woman I couldn’t get off my mind.
Eager to see them all, I strolled up the driveway and pushed inside.
When I stepped into the house, the energy was off…
I almost laughed out loud at the thought. Sounded like Amelia was rubbing off on me with that one. My keys clattered to the table by the door, and I peered toward the kitchen. “Hello?”
The house was too quiet. No laughing or joking. No herd of children running in to wrap themselves around my legs or jump on my back. No Amelia smiling and watching the commotion from a distance before she gave me the breakdown of the day.
“We’re in here.” Her voice came from the living room and lacked its normal exuberance.
Well, shit.
My hopes for an easy evening thudded to the ground. My shoulders slumped and I let out a long sigh, swiping my hand over my face then rubbing at the tension settling into my neck. When I stepped into the living room, the somber attitude furthered my concerns.
“I guess it’s safe to say today was not a good day.” The bite in my tone had all four people in front of me wincing and staring at the floor.
Amelia peeked up at me. “There was a problem in karate class. I’m not sure we’ll be allowed back.”
We used to have problems in karate all the time, which was why neither boy participated anymore. In the weeks after Natalie passed, they’d gotten too aggressive on more than one occasion.
I pinched my nose and closed my eyes. “Who was the problem?”
All three kids looked at Amelia, their eyes wide and desperate to avoid the upcoming discussion. I hated that deer-in-the-headlights look more than anything. How was I supposed to raise decent children if I didn’t chastise them when they acted like assholes? But how could I chastise the kids when they flashed me their innocent little doe eyes, and not feel like an asshole myself? I constantly felt caught between a rock and a hard place.
The rock: Focus only on making them happy and let them grow into entitled jerks I’d hate to be around.
The hard place: Point out when they failed, making me the kind of jerk I hated to be around.
I strove for balance, but damn it, I failed more often than I succeeded.
Their silence pricked the powder keg of my irritation. “Don’t look at Amelia and expect her to help you out of this. Whoever caused the problem needs to be brave and responsible enough to own what you did. It’s part of being a decent human being. You can’t fix a wrong until you’ve recognized a wrong.”
Connor’s eyes went even wider. “But—”
“Don’t you ‘but’ me.” I glared at all three kids, hands on hips, frustration flaring. “Who did it? Come on, guys. You’re better than this.”
When I was done speaking, Amelia raised her hand. “Actually, I was the problem. Though I kind of think the instructor and moms deserve the title more than I do.” She explained that Charlie accidentally hit another student and my jaw dropped.
Charlie sat up straighter. “It really was a accident, Daddy, I swear.”
Amelia nodded her agreement. “But none of the waiting room moms saw it that way. They’d already said the worst things about the kids, right there in front of the boys, then when Charlie popped Toby Hinkle in the nose—”
I grimaced. “Redheaded Toby Hinkle?”
“That’s the one.”
“That makes it a little better,” I said with a quirk of my head. “That kid has a history of being a problem.”
If ever there was an instigator and bully, it would be Toby fucking Hinkle.
While the kids knowingly bobbed their heads, Amelia hurried on. “Toby’s mom ran in and started saying the worst things to Charlie and the sensei just stood there. Even after watching the whole thing and knowing it was an accident, he didn’t step in. So I…” She flared her hands. “I let her have it. I kind of let them all have it.”
Garrett smiled. “She said that we’d been very brave and she was glad to know us.”
Connor lifted his chin. “And that we deserved empathy.”
“And that you’re a great daddy who works too hard.” Charlie stood. “Then she took out her sage spray and sprayed the whole dojo, even Mrs. Hinkle and the other moms.”
“She did what?” I started laughing. The image of Amelia prancing around the room, spritzing everyone with sage was too much.
Sheepishly, she pulled a spray bottle out of her bag. “I brought this because you hated the smell of it burning. I thought maybe this would be easier on your nose.”
“It was pretty awesome, Dad.” Garrett took the bottle and stomped around the room, spewing a positivity themed tirade that could have only come from Amelia. The other two kids nodded—adding bits of conversation he forgot.
“That’s a pretty good impression of it.” Amelia flared her hands. “Like I said, I’m not sure we’ll be welcome back.”
I stared at the woman on my couch as I tried to process the story. She was everything the kids needed in that situation, defending them when other people were ready to push them down. I wouldn’t have handled things the same way, but I probably wouldn’t have handled them any better. She was sweet, and devoted, and ferociously stood up for what she believed in and sure, she was unconventional, but the kids responded to her so well.
For that matter, so did I.
Her beauty astounded me and it was everything I could do not to pull her off the couch and into my arms. If three little kids hadn’t been in the room, I’d have done just that—and I wouldn’t have stopped at a kiss this time.
Her face fell. “You’re angry.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why aren’t you saying anything?”
“Because I can’t say what I want to right now.” I glanced at the kids, who were still engrossed in acting out Amelia’s rampage, hoping she could read between the lines and understand.
“Let me see if I can read your mind then.” Amelia put a finger to her temple and squinted. For half a second, I almost believed she was trying, but she dropped her hand to her lap and shook her head with an exaggerated sigh. “Nope. Still haven’t figured that one out yet.”
“That’s probably a good thing.”