by Bella Knight
Bao and Hu both sat down on the massive couch. Little Nico and Tam were in recliners, both playing math games. They seemingly ignored the byplay, but Bao and Chayton knew perfectly well they were paying attention.
“Mostly everyone is on jobs. You can pick morning or evening. I’ve lit up in yellow the times you can pick. You’ve got hydroponics, making food to send out, packing, making our lunches —I hear your alt-mom (Callie) rocks at that, so you can teach all of us —and I put you on Inola stuff because I’ve seen you do some stuff with Damia. I suggest you pick morning times for her; she’s up at ‘oh-god-thirty.’”
Hu blinked. She hadn’t thought about switching her sleeping schedule. “I won’t be up late nights, anymore, Honored Mother,” she said.
“That’s up to you,” said Chayton. “Your total, because of your age, is four, twenty-five-minute times a day. That doesn’t include your own chores at your house, like making your bed or vacuuming. You can substitute chores here for chores there —for cleaning stuff, as long as someone is home, like vacuuming or cleaning bathrooms.”
“That’s… fantastic,” said Bao. “She can keep up with her chores at home, and have twenty-five minutes a day count as one chore here?”
“Absolutely,” said Chayton. “The Wolfpack lives here, and you and our boys don’t sleep here, either. They do chores at home.” He pointed next door.
“Can I do hydroponics today?” asked Hu. She scooted over, laid her head on Chayton’s arm, and poked at the schedule, turning her choices a beautiful, Chinese red.
“I was going to give you the day off, but sure,” said Chayton.
“Thanks!” said Hu. She waved at her mother, and skipped out.
“Well, that went well,” said Chayton.
“It did,” said Bao. “But wait until her sister hears about it.”
“Grace is gonna freak,” agreed Chayton.
Dinner was wonderful. Hu was full of stories for Nico about her day. They had salad, honey chicken, and rice with mango and honey. They ate slices of the peanut butter chocolate pie for dessert, and then Nico showed his ladies a driving game, and all three of them took turns driving. They watched a short, animated comedy, and Bao declared herself exhausted. She ran herself a bath, and Nico and Hu proudly took turns reading David Eddings’ Belgariad to each other. Bao smiled, watching them, then took herself off to her own luxurious bath. She brought up a glass of wine, a nice red. She used bubble bath, and luxuriated in the water.
Bao heard the closet door open. Nico was even more organized than she; his side of the walk-in closet was color-coded, and he had more jewelry than she, with his cufflinks. Since he worked construction, he came home, showered, then dressed in shorts and a polo-type shirt, and ate dinner with the family. He kept his hair cut well, and shaved every day, sometimes twice a day. His cologne was very subtle. He came in, sat on the stool in front of her makeup station, and smiled.
“Big changes,” he said. “I did see it coming. Our girl is smart. I could see her getting more and more exasperated. I figured she’d speak out when she hit her limit.”
Bao smiled. Our girl, she thought, something in her heart melted with his words. “I would not have put up with her as long as she did. She is more patient than I. But, she was running out of choices. I cannot tell you how many times I told Grace to play her game —math, science, Chinese, typing, I didn’t care —quietly. She was distracting everyone else. I wish she were the type to stare out the window, but she’s not. They rotate stations at the Nighthawks homeschool, giving each child the opportunity to cycle through from math, reading, science, writing, coding, typing, Paiute, Chinese, art, music, and movement. They can play games as well. Ones that build on their lessons. Grace wants to interrupt everyone else, especially Hu. Hu tells her to redirect. If it’s a question, she answers it. But, Grace will not self-switch to the next task in order to prevent herself from bothering others. There’s actually rewards for her to self-redirect, and she doesn’t seem to want them. She seems to want to lose her brain points by interrupting things.”
“It sounds like she doesn’t get how she is destructive to others,” said Nico.
“The sad thing is, the more she tries to control, the less people want to spend time with her. I’ve got to be sure Hu gets time with the other Nighthawk kids.”
Nico laughed. “It’s summer, love. Ball games, soccer games, cookouts…”
“Let’s have one of those,” said Bao.
“The deck’s going in this weekend,” said Nico. “I wanted to go over the home improvement plan with you,” said Nico. “At least a third of it I can get the Wolfpack to do. We can go per room, or segment, or get all the small jobs done first, then tackle the big ones. It’s summer, so it’s going to be super-busy. The deck is the last damn thing we’ll get done as a major project for a while. I’ll slip in what I can.”
“Get done what you can,” said Bao, sipping her wine. “Make a list of what I can do, if there is anything, and get the Wolfpack going. They’ll be busy, too. Some moved back to their birthplaces, but many more are busy here. They rotate to learn the motorcycle repair and building too, now. And some of them are in shifts, Chayton said, because swing and graveyard are a little easier to get into. The Soldier Pack could help you on some things.”
Nico stole her wine and took a sip, then handed it back. “Most likely, yes —absolutely. Many of them helped with their initial dwelling, and would know enough to help.” He pulled up a spreadsheet on his tablet, and started putting names into jobs. “I love this software. Anyhoo, I want to get this done, so thank you. That’s a great idea.”
“Where do you think Hu gets her intelligence from?” asked Bao. She finished her wine, rinsed her hair, drained the tub, and stood.
“You!” Nico put aside his work, handed her a towel for her hair, finished his work, saved it, gave her the towel for her body, and held out a hand to help her step out of the considerable lip on the tub.
She dried herself and he rubbed lotion into her back as she rubbed it into the rest of her body. He took the wet body towel, and put it in the hamper while she dried her hair. He sent emails to the people he would like for the tasks, went into the bedroom, turned down the bed, pulled off his shirt, and went back into the bathroom to work on his wife’s feet. He did a short pedicure while she finished drying her hair and moisturizing her face.
She stood, grabbed his shorts, and pulled him to her. “I need you,” she said, and kissed him.
“I love you, need you, and… mmm.” His voice cut off as she put her hands down his shorts and freed him.
He dropped his shorts and underwear. She pushed him down on the stool and kissed him. He kissed back, recognizing her hunger, then matched it. She guided his hands to her hips as she stroked him. He kissed her breasts, and flicked his tongue over the nipples, then sucked each one. She kept her busy fingers running over his balls and cock, making him groan.
She threw her head back and gasped out her orgasm. She slid on top of him, her robe still on. He slid it off, catching it, and putting it on the counter behind him. He kissed her shoulders, and then held her hips with one hand, and folded his arm behind her to hold her steady. She rose and fell, faster and faster, her hands on his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. She came once, then a second time —as he came with her, his head back so far that he could see the look of ecstasy on her face in the mirror. She was the one to wipe them both down, and then she helped him to dress again. She stroked his face, his hands, and kissed him again and again, until he was relaxed and soft, like putty in her hands.
She hung up her silk robe on the back of the door, a crimson one —with a blue and gold dragon on the back of it. She took his hand, and led him to the bed. He climbed in while she put on gold, silk pajamas. She slid in with him. They both read a little on their tablets, then he held her in his arms and turned out the light.
Bella heard the screaming from across the paddock. She ran toward it, ungainly, with her added weight, and
a hand on her stomach. She got closer, and stopped. The unstoppable force had met the immovable object. Grace had a tomato-red face, obvious, even from across the way.
Callie was furious, and she was very-obviously ready to tear Grace’s head off. “No,” said Callie, clearly. “You can speak to her quietly and calmly when you have calmed down.”
Grace had a mutinous stare. “She quit. You told me not to quit.”
“I told you to keep at something until you got it done,” said Callie.
Bella kept walking, wondering why she was involving herself. She should turn around, or go back to Inola, or maybe just sit with Ryder. But, she had to understand what was going on with their family.
“Hu quit,” said Grace. “She can’t do that.”
“She became Wolfpack, and she and her mother can make whatever educational choices they want, without our input,” said Callie.
“She can’t do that,” said Grace.
Oh, shit, thought Bella. That was a long time coming.
“I’m not arguing with you,” said Callie. “You seem determined to not listen. You were told over and over to redirect yourself, to stop bothering Hu when she was trying to do her work. You lost points nearly every day because of it. We separated you, we split your classes, all so you weren’t even taking the same courses. Did you think she would put up with your behavior —forever?”
Grace had her arms folded across herself. She looked small and mean, like a vicious animal from a cartoon. “She can’t run away from me. I’m her sister.”
“Why would she want to spend time with you?” asked Callie. “You demand all her attention. You choose everything —the game, the time, the rules. Your rules. Hu is a nice person, and she put up with it as long as she could. Well, real friends and sisters give in. Other people make choices, and you can’t seem to understand that. It’s not all about you.”
“This is not my fault!” yelled Grace.
“You raised your voice to me,” said Callie. “You lost your points for the day. And, it’s not all about you. It’s about Hu and what’s right for her. You made no effort to redirect yourself, Grace. You don’t think about other people’s thoughts or feelings. You put yourself in front of everyone and everything else. You’re going to have to grow up and behave better if you don’t want to lose Hu.”
“Your mother is right,” said Bella, stepping forward. “I’ve seen you dominate everything from conversations to playtime. You have ADD, sure. I do too. Makes life a little… odd. Challenging, maybe. But, do I dominate conversations? Do I try to get people to do what I want? Do I put myself first, or do I put my wife and child first? The Nighthawks? I work for Ivy, so what she needs from me comes first when I’m there.” Bella took a breath and then let it out. “I lost a lot of friends doing what you’re doing. Yelling at your mom is not going to make this right. Hurting other people because you won’t control yourself will make everyone run away from you for your entire life.”
“You’re saying it’s all my fault,” said Grace.
“If you had let her alone when she tried to do her work, would Hu have a reason to drop out of the Nighthawks’ homeschool?” asked Callie. She held up a hand like a traffic cop. “Think, Grace. The last thing you are is stupid. Think it through. If you could study anything you wanted to, why would you quit?”
Grace stood her mutinous ground. “I hate you! I hate you both!”
Bella turned to Callie. “Did that sound like a gentle and loving person?” she asked.
“No,” said Callie. She sighed. “Sometimes I want to yell, but I control myself. I don’t want to have other people think I’m a crazy person.”
“I want to, too,” said Bella. “I learned to do almost anything else.” She laughed. “I have this stupid farm game on my phone. I get in a tizzy, I plant an imaginary crop.” She laughed. “Ivy makes jokes about it when I have a really rude customer, and she tells me to plant some turnips.”
Callie pulled out her phone. “What’s its name? I have this kid I work with at school, and I sometimes need to plant turnips.” They discussed various games that could be played for ten minutes at a time, and laughed.
Grace, robbed of anyone paying attention, went to find someone else to yell at. Her attempts to yell at Hu were thwarted; she couldn’t find her. Grace had never tried to understand the Wolfpack’s schedules, so she didn’t know that Hu had signed up for horticulture as a science elective, and that Hu was with Nantan, cataloging the plants for herself. She also didn’t know that Chayton had told Nantan to keep Hu on the down-low and that Grace would eventually be on the warpath. Stymied, she went home to take her life into her own hands and confront Ivy.
Ivy was taking care of the list of things she had to do on Monday, the “dark” day when the bar was closed; a list as long as her arm. She did this to have a real day off on Tuesday, when Cougar ran the club. She knew when Bao texted them that Hu was dropping out of the Nighthawks school that there would be a kerfuffle. Maybe even a lot of screaming. Callie had deliberately taken Grace for a walk to minimize the damage. She put in several loads of clothes, one baby in a papoose pack, the other watching her every move from her improvised drum set of plastic bowls and a plastic spoon. She filled up a load, put in the soap and fabric softener, and closed it up. She had no idea how the kids generated so many dirty clothes. Gotta stay on top of it, she thought to herself. She folded the clothes that needed folding, deftly matching up socks, and sang the Don Henley song, Dirty Laundry, to herself.
Grace banged in the house, stomped over to Ivy, and began unloading how everyone was against her, including how Hu couldn’t quit, how everything was not her fault, and how she did try to control herself. Her voice went into the high registers.
Ivy divided the folded laundry into the correct person’s basket —babies, Grace, Hu, and Moms. Damia no longer had her own basket there; she did her own laundry at the Big House. Ivy turned, and began getting the food ready for a snack together. Aiden went into his chair, and Kiya into hers. She put bibs on them, and handed out diced pears and Cheerios, and poured water into a tumbler and added a splash of lime juice. She poured juice and put the cups onto the table.
Grace kept talking until she ran out of steam, while Ivy cut up cucumbers, took out baby carrots from a package, diced some cheese, and put whole wheat crackers onto a plate. Ivy put ranch dressing in a little ramekin, and sat down.
She ate, and made faces at the babies, and said, “Wanna eat?”
“How can you eat?” screamed Grace. “You aren’t listening to me!”
Ivy said, “You pushed and pushed and pushed that sweet girl past her breaking point. You did the exact same thing to Damia. You don’t care who you hurt with your actions.” She sighed. “Damia is my little girl. Just like Kiya here. I will never abandon her. I wanted to give her a nice, safe, happy place to live. I did that, too, and worked myself into the ground and then some. Then you could not, would not, control your behaviors. Damia couldn’t live with you, you little porcupine, so she moved out. You are my girl too, which is why you’re not out on your ear. Now Hu is, I wager, going to spend more and more time at her mother’s home, probably not move back in here.” She pointed at the house next door.
Grace’s face looked shocked at the words that rolled out from Ivy’s mouth. She couldn’t understand why everyone was so against her.
“Congratulations, Grace. You’re taking the people I love and making them want to be somewhere else because you will not listen. You don’t care if your points get taken away, or if you lose your television —or game time. You use your ADD as an excuse to try to get away with behavior no one in their right mind would put up with. You’re demanding, controlling, and needy, no matter what we say or do. We’ve talked until we are blue in the face, and set up a point system. No matter how much time we spend with you, even special time with each of us, you do nothing to control yourself. We are together every day. Or, we were.” She brushed a tear from her eyes. “You may not care, but I do. Now
, either sit down and eat something, or do a chore.”
Grace stared at Ivy, open-mouthed. “I…”
“What, Grace? Didn’t mean to? Yes, you did. You meant to ignore what I told you, and what Mom told you. You knew our rules, and why they were there, and you ignored them, day after day. Don’t tell me you didn’t mean to.” Ivy looked at Grace. “Just now you came in here, yelling, with two babies in the house. Didn’t you think the yelling might scare them?” Grace looked at the babies. They were both looking at their food, or at their mother, but not at her. “Either you learn to control your emotions, or they control you,” said Ivy. “I learned that a long time ago. Now sit down, quietly, and eat. You have a chore list to get to, today.”
Grace sat, and ate a few crackers, and some veggies, and drank her juice. “May I be excused?” she said, after about five minutes.
“Yes,” said Ivy. “Get out your chore list. You’re on restriction.”
Grace nodded, grabbed her tablet, and went to do her list.
Callie came into the room. “I got in while you were still in the laundry room.” Tears streamed down her face. She wiped her eyes, and said, “I am so sorry about Damia.” Ivy went over, and hugged her. They stood there, crying, and then wiped the tears away. They smiled at the babies, and made them coo and laugh.
“It’s not your fault,” said Ivy, once they had sat down, and Callie ate the food like a wolf. “To be realistic, Damia’s in heaven. She’s up at the first whisper of dawn, ready to work with the horses. She keeps her little place there neat as a pin, and does her schoolwork. Everyone loves her half to death, and Robert and Inola both watch her like a hawk up there.” She sighed, dipped a carrot in the dressing, and ate it. “I go up there, eat lunch, and then eat dinner with her. Take her a snack, talk with her, do chores with her. Even learned how to ride a damned horse. I put her to bed every night.”