None of that, though, cheered Imperia up because she doesn’t want Dad to know about the punch heard ‘round Beverly Hills.
Nor does she want Dad to know about her bruised hand or the confrontation in the cafeteria or the warning(s) she got from Principal Daley. The hand is the biggest problem, because either she wears the bandage which will guarantee that Daddy will ask, or she leaves the hand unbandaged, and then he can see the bruises on her knuckles.
Finally, just before the day ends, she borrows (well, steals, really) some fake tan stuff from one of the girls in the bathroom. She takes the tan stuff out of the girl’s gigandous purse as she heads into a stall, and then replaces the tan stuff as the girl leaves. By then Imperia’s hands are darker than the rest of her, but not that noticeable.
And if Daddy asks about it, she’ll show him the tan spray on her left hand, not her evil right hook.
She decides not to ask Grace to keep quiet, because if she asks Grace, then Grace will concentrate real hard on not saying anything, and will eventually blow it because she’s thinking about it rather than thinking about other stuff.
So after the last bell, they hurry out to the parking area, where Dad’s waiting in his silver Mercedes. At first, Imperia loved it that Daddy came to get them from school, but now she hates it.
All the other kids get picked up by their parents’ chauffeurs or their au pairs or someone who works in the house, not by the parents themselves. Because, Imperia has learned, if the parents show up that means the parents have nothing better to do, and if they have nothing better to do, then they’re not important.
At least Daddy is on the phone as they leave school. Every real parent who shows up is always on the phone, because that shows how important they are too. Daddy has been talking on the phone a lot lately, and actually smiling again, which he didn’t do when he learned that Mom just dumped Imperia and Grace with his parents.
Grace runs to the car. She’s smiling, which is a first as she comes out of school, and Imperia has to hurry to catch up to her.
Daddy folds his phone closed, gets out of the car, and lets Grace hug him. He looks over her shoulder at Imperia, silently asking her what’s changed.
She smiles too, and says, “Your idea worked. They won’t pick on Grace any more.”
Daddy opens his mouth to ask what happens, when Grace leans back and says, “Imperia impressed all the girls in my class, and they like me now, and we had lunch together and everything.”
And then she starts to chatter about her new little friends. Daddy puts his hand on Grace’s shoulder, leading her to the back seat where she’s safer (at least, that’s what all the experts say) and help her adjust her little book bag.
He looks very suburban Dad-like, with his black and silver hair and his laugh lines and his glasses. He doesn’t look like that Disney prince much—or maybe he looks like an older version, but not as old as Grandfather, who just looks scary even with the same square jaw and blue eyes.
“So it worked,” Daddy says as Imperia gets into the front seat. Grace has taken a breath, but it’s clear she’s not done (thank heavens), so Imperia just nods, and lets Grace dictate the conversation.
Daddy gets behind the wheel and heads home, and he’s smiling a little too, and that’s when Imperia realizes that Daddy’s relieved. This is the first time since school started that Grace has chattered. Up until now, Grace has been really really quiet, even for Grace. Imperia just hadn’t realized how quiet.
“What exactly did you do?” Daddy asks Imperia as they pull into the garage at the house. He hits the garage door remote, which brings the door down kinda like magic, although their housekeeper, Ruthie, explained it as something do with signals and technology and stuff, not that Imperia understands any of that either.
“I told Skylar to leave Grace alone,” Imperia says, which is true. Imperia did tell her that first thing in the morning, and it didn’t work.
“That was it?” Daddy asks as he shuts off the ignition.
“Actually,” Grace says, “she—”
“I got some help from this girl named Janie,” Imperia says. “She says that Skylar’s mom is some famous actress, but Janie’s grandfather runs the studio so Skylar has to listen to her.”
“That’s who Janie is?” Grace asks. “I knew she was somebody important.”
Imperia sighs silently. Grace is already moving into Hollywood speak, which is probably better than not talking at all.
“So you’ve made a friend too,” Daddy says.
Imperia shrugs, then opens the door. The garage is really clean and smells of exhaust. She heads to the house, hoping she doesn’t get any more questions.
“Janie’s really tough,” Grace says behind her. Grace is clearly talking to Daddy. “But even she wouldn’t take on Skylar without Imperia.”
“That’s good, right?” Daddy asks.
Imperia pulls the door open. The scent of chili wafts over her. Apparently, Ruthie has been cooking.
“That’s really good,” Grace says. “Together, they’re like super tough chicks.”
Imperia goes in the door. The garage door leads to an entry where she’s supposed to hang up her coat, if she ever needed a coat, which she hasn’t so far. The smell of chili makes her stomach growl.
“Super tough chicks,” Daddy says slowly. He’s suddenly right beside Imperia. “Is that hyperbole?”
“Of course it is, Dad,” Imperia says before Grace can answer. “What do you think we’re doing? Kicking butt like those girls in the urban fantasy novels from your store?”
Daddy frowns at her. “You’ve been reading those?”
“A few of them,” Imperia says, working hard to suppress her smile of triumph. Topic of conversation successfully changed.
For the moment, anyway.
FIVE
Imperia counts the entire evening as a win. Daddy doesn’t notice her darkened hands, which means he hasn’t noticed her bruised knuckles, and he gives her The Lecture on reading books that are too old for her, which she can recite in her sleep (and which she’s been ignoring for years) and Grace actually mentioned at dinner that she’s looking forward to school the next day.
Can’t get better than that.
Or so Imperia thinks. Then she goes to school.
Skylar’s there. White tape makes an X across her nose, her eyes are black-and-blue and her face is puffy.
Best of all, she won’t even look at Imperia. All Skylar’s little minions just glare at Imperia whenever she walks by, but they keep their distance.
“I thought she’s having some kind of Barbie surgery,” Imperia says to Janie at lunch. They’ve hooked up for hamburgers again. Grace is sitting with her newfound friends and actually holding court.
“I guess she can’t,” Janie says. “Apparently you can’t have plastic surgery before you stop growing.”
“But she’s all black-and-blue,” Imperia says.
“Well, duh,” Janie says. “You broke her nose. They had to reset it. She’ll have a crooked nose for years. Good job.”
But is it a good job? Imperia wonders that in class after class. She’s a little appalled at the way Skylar looks. So appalled, in fact, that she actually thinks of apologizing, at least for a minute, until she remembers how mean Skylar was to Grace.
Imperia’s keeping an eye on Grace, but mostly, she’s keeping an eye on Skylar’s friends. Because Imperia doesn’t trust them. They’re being too quiet.
Something bad is going to happen: she just knows it.
And of course, something bad does happen. Just not in the way she expects.
SIX
“Imperia!” Daddy says. He has a sound in his voice she’s never heard before. In fact, if she had to guess who was talking, she might’ve said it was Grandfather, not Daddy. She never realized that they had similar voices before.
She’s doing some math homework at the dining room table. She has a desk in her room, but she doesn’t like being alone there. The dining room table
is in one of the prettiest rooms in the house, with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the patio and an amazing garden.
Plus, the dining room always smells pretty good after dinner, and the best part of all is that she’s not alone.
She doesn’t really like being alone any more, not after all that weird stuff with Mom. Imperia just doesn’t want to lose sight of Daddy or of Grace.
She likes to think she’s protecting them, even though she kinda knows she’s lying to herself. She’s been lying to herself a lot, especially when it comes to how she feels about things.
“Imperia!” Daddy says again.
“Coming,” she says, and stands up. She puts her pen in the middle of the textbook, and sets her tablet on top of it all. The pen isn’t really a pen, but something that works on the tablet. She has the answer sheet there, and when she finishes, it uploads directly to her math teacher.
See, this stuff is like magic to Imperia, but she doesn’t say that. She just acts like she’s used to all this tech stuff, when really, it freaks her out.
She heads to Daddy’s study, her stomach clenching. Daddy’s study is off the dining room and has the same floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the garden. The rest of the walls are covered with books, and the shelves go so high that Daddy can’t even reach the books on the top. He has a ladder so he can climb up and get them.
Daddy is all about books, which Mom used to hate (probably still does, but Imperia tries not to think about what Mom likes and dislikes any more). Usually Imperia finds this room really comfortable but right now, she doesn’t want to go in there.
It’s like going into the principal’s office, only scarier. She can’t walk away from Daddy. (She doesn’t want to.)
He’s standing up behind his desk. She hasn’t realized how powerful Daddy can look. He has Greater World power, like the men on TV, with his suit coat draped over the chair, his silk shirt a bit rumpled, and his tie loose around his neck. But he also has Grandfather’s fierceness, which scares Imperia more than anything.
But she’s learned through Grandmother that she should never show her emotions. So she doesn’t. She just straightens up and pretends like there’s nothing wrong.
“I just got off the phone with a man who claims he’s the attorney for the Kennedy Campbell family. You’d know the woman as—”
“I know who they are,” Imperia says. She’s going to work as hard as she can to never know who Skylar’s mother is.
“I suppose you do,” Daddy says dryly. “I take it that his allegation is true then? You broke their daughter’s nose?”
Imperia can’t quite control her lips. They want to smile. She knows it’s wrong, but dang, that moment still feels good. And so does that look Skylar keeps giving her, like Imperia’s going to haul off and hit her all over again.
“She wouldn’t listen to reason,” Imperia says.
“So you hit her.” Daddy’s tone has a bit of wonder in it, like he can’t imagine anyone doing such a thing.
“Actually, I punched her. I made a fist and everything.” Imperia raises her hand to show that fist. It makes her feel powerful all over again.
“Imperia,” Daddy says in his most disapproving tone. “You know we don’t condone violence.”
She has two answers for that, both guaranteed to make Daddy mad. The first—Grandfather does—doesn’t really put her on the side of good. And the second—You’re the one who told me to defend Grace—won’t stop the anti-violence lecture. It’ll just raise the lecture’s volume.
So Imperia raises her chin slightly and says nothing.
“Imperia,” Daddy says, “this lawyer wants us to pay for the girl’s surgery.”
Imperia lets out a small sound despite her best intentions. “It’s plastic surgery, Daddy, and she can’t have it for years.”
“I know,” Daddy says. “The attorney also wants pain and suffering fees, whatever that means. I’m going to have hire an attorney of my own.”
“What about Grace’s pain and suffering?” Imperia asks in spite of her best intentions to keep quiet. Because—jeez—this just pisses her off (pardon her French, whatever that is. [“Pardon my French” is what Janie says whenever she swears]). “Grace was crying every day. Now she’s happy. That’s gotta count for something.”
Daddy softens, just like Imperia knew he would. Mention Grace, mention Grace happy, and Daddy kinda melts. He sees Grace as a kindred spirit and maybe she is. Although Imperia doubts that Grace can ever get as fierce as Daddy is right now.
“This is one of those fights that can go on for years,” Daddy says, but he’s speaking quieter now, as if he’s talking more to himself than to Imperia. Now she can see just how worried he is.
“No, it won’t,” Imperia says. “Just tell that lawyer guy that you have evidence of how mean Skylar really is and how it was only a matter of time before someone gave her a dose of her own medicine.”
“She hits people?” Daddy says, with a little hope in his voice.
“No,” Imperia says. “What she does is worse. She says really bad things about them, and that destroys them and then she makes everyone else act mean to them.”
Daddy glances at the door, and Imperia can tell he’s thinking about Grace and how sad she was. “I don’t know how telling this attorney that Skylar is mean will help.”
“You tell him you have proof that she’s mean, and if they decided to do this legal thingie, you’ll take the proof to the tabloids. Tell him it’ll embarrass the whole family.”
Daddy looks at her as if he’s never seen her before. He frowns just a little. “Do we have this proof?”
“I think my friend Janie does,” Imperia says, “but if she doesn’t, I can get it no problem.”
“How?” Daddy asks.
“I can video Skylar on my phone. It won’t be hard.”
“She’s that mean that often?” Daddy asks.
“She’s horrible,” Imperia says.
Daddy sighs. “Poor thing.”
Which throws Imperia completely. “Poor thing? How can you say that? She nearly destroyed Grace.”
Daddy looks at Imperia. “She had to learn it somewhere, Imp,” he says. “Kids tend to learn that kind of stuff at home.”
It takes Imperia a minute to understand him. “You mean somebody’s doing this to her? At home?”
He nods and sits down. “Probably a parent.”
Or a grandfather, Imperia thinks. But Grandfather never said any of that horrible anti-girl stuff to Imperia’s face. He would just frown at her or command her to leave his presence. He would say that stuff to other people, who would then try not to let Imperia hear.
Imperia suddenly feels sorry for Skylar, and she doesn’t want to. She really really doesn’t want to. So she thinks about the ways that Skylar picks on Grace, but she can only imagine someone picking on Skylar, so she tries to think about Grace crying, and even that isn’t working right now.
So Imperia bunches up her fists, straightens her shoulders, and says, “So I solved it, right, Daddy?”
He looks up at her as if he’s forgotten she’s in the room.
“Actually, no, Imp,” he says. “You probably deflected the court case—I keep forgetting how important this publicity stuff is here—but you haven’t resolved the issue with Skylar at all. People who get hurt retaliate, as you well know.”
“As I know?” Imperia asks.
“Skylar hurt Grace and you retaliated, right?”
Imperia let out a breath. Her cheeks are suddenly growing hot. “You told me to defend her,” Imperia says, and doesn’t like the fact that her voice sounds like a whine.
“But I wanted you to—ah, hell.” Daddy runs a hand through his hair. “Yes, I told you to, and I didn’t tell you how.”
Uh-oh. He’s starting into that he’s-a-failure-as-a-parent crap. Imperia hates that.
“It’s not your fault, Daddy,” Imperia says. “I tried to talk to her. I’m just not charming like you are.”
He
looks up at her, his blue eyes suddenly as piercing as Grandfather’s. “A lot of people aren’t charming, Imp. They don’t go around breaking people’s noses. You have to make this right.”
“What does that mean?” Imperia asks.
He shrugs. She doesn’t want him to shrug, because that means he’s not going to tell her. Then he surprises her by adding, “You need to defuse this, Imp. You need to stop this whole thing from escalating any further.”
“How do I do that?” Imperia asks.
“I don’t know,” he says grimly. “But I trust you can figure it out.”
SEVEN
I trust you can figure that out. Imperia hates it when Daddy says that. She hates it when anybody says that. The last time she had to figure something out, she ended up punching someone in the nose.
She bows her head and sighs as she heads back into the dining room. This thing with Skylar is harder to solve than all the math problems in her little book. She sits down, makes fists with both hands and props her chin on them. Her knuckles graze her cheeks. Her knuckles are sharp.
The thing that’s bugging everybody about Skylar isn’t that Imperia defeated her. It’s that she has a broken nose, and she’ll be disfigured. The problem isn’t the punch so much as the horrible medical treatment.
In the Kingdom, whenever Imperia injured something, she went to the palace wise woman, a healer who would then wave her magic wand over it or rub a potion on it or make some incantation.
And then the bruise would be gone.
Imperia leans back in her chair.
Of course. The solution is that simple—and that hard.
EIGHT
Imperia knows how to get to the Kingdom, even though she’s not supposed to go without Daddy. She’s not supposed to go anywhere without telling him either. She’s going to break a lot of rules here, but she’s going to do it so that she can make things right.
There are dozens, maybe hundreds of portals between the Greater World and the Kingdom. Imperia has traveled through some of them, always with Daddy, and always holding his hand. But she has done a lot of reading about them, and she knows that you don’t have to have your magic to use them.
Standing Up For Grace Page 3