“I’m her G.D. babysitter,” I say as though it’s some super intimidating revelation that will have her shaking in her UGGs.
She snorts, then says, “Okay, well, it’s really none of your business, so just back off.”
Glaring at her for a second, I say, “Okay, sure. I’ll back off. Because now I can see there’s no point in bothering. I can see where Mercedes gets her lovely personality from. Congratulations on raising a horrible, hateful, shallow, cruel person. You’ll have a lot in common by the time she’s grown!” I’m so filled with rage that I shake my bag of bananas at her.
I feel an arm reach around from behind me and cover my upper chest, near my collarbone. It’s Liam, and he’s gently guiding me away from the fight. “Let’s just go. They’re not worth it.”
“Olive’s worth it.” I bark at him. “Are you going to let these people get away with this?”
Liam looks at me. He’s far too calm for my liking. He sighs, then looks at Mercedes. “I’m surprised at you, Mercedes. You used to be Olive’s friend. You used to come to our place all the time to play. But now you seem to have decided that she doesn’t fit in, and I can’t for the life of me understand why. Especially when all she’s wanted is to be your friend.”
His tone is kind, which I cannot fathom right now. How could he be kind to this little shit? Hmm, the little shit seems to look genuinely upset now. Her bottom lip is actually quivering. Maybe his way isn’t completely useless after all.
He looks at the moms, who are having trouble making eye contact with him at the moment. “Ladies.”
With that, he turns, and I follow him. I see Olive has been right behind us this whole time, her eyes are wide with shock, and she looks like she isn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. Liam picks her up and carries her, and I follow a few steps behind. I turn back to the women and glare at both Mercedes and her awful mother for good measure.
I lag a little as we cross the road, trying to calm down. The calmer I become, the more I am filled with regret. I really had no business going off like that, and now, I am horribly worried that I may have just inadvertently made Olive’s life much harder.
Liam opens the door and flips the bench seat forward so she can climb in the back. Before she sits down, I hear him say, “They’re just jealous because you’re so beautiful and smart. You know that, don’t you?”
She shakes her head but gives him a small smile. “No, I’m not. I’m weird.”
Liam’s eyes narrow. “You’re not weird. Who told you you’re weird?”
“All the kids. I’m not in dance or soccer or anything. I only like to draw and look for fairies and mermaids. That’s why they don’t want to look like me.”
For the first time, I see him put on a very firm look when he addresses his daughter. He even wags his finger at her. “You listen to me. You’re not weird. You’re kind and thoughtful and smart, and you’ve got more imagination in your little finger than the rest of them have combined. Just because a few nincompoops decided to be mean doesn’t mean the problem lies with you.”
I stand, holding my bananas, feeling very out of place. When he’s done, I lean my head into the truck as far as I can. “I’m so sorry, Olive. I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that. I hope I didn’t embarrass you.”
She smiles a little. “I can’t believe you called her all those names. Hateful, horrible, cruel and what was the other one?”
I slump a little. “Shallow.”
“Right. What does that one mean?”
“Err—someone who cares more about how they look than how they act.”
Her eyes grow wide. “Ooh, that’s a great word!”
I take a long look at her. She’s sitting there with wildly crazy hair, red eyes from crying, having been horribly rejected today by almost all the girls she knows, and yet she seems to be bouncing back already.
Finally daring to look at Liam, I say, “I’m really sorry. That was … uncalled for.”
“That was something, all right.” He raises his eyebrows, looking nonplussed. “Abigail, I think I’m going to take Olive home. She’s had quite the day.”
“Oh, well, sure. That makes sense.” I don’t protest or tell him I was planning to see if they wanted to come over for celebratory spaghetti. I know he wants to get away from me and I completely understand his reasoning. He needs to get his daughter away from the insane woman who just yelled at an eight-year-old child she’s never met before.
Liam climbs into the truck, and before he can close the door, Olive says, “Thank you for sticking up for me.”
My shoulders slump. “I’m afraid I didn’t handle that the way I should have. Grown-ups are supposed to be better at staying calm.” I give her an apologetic look.
“Don’t be sorry. It was the most awesome thing anyone’s ever done for me.” She gives me a wide grin, bordering on evil delight and I return it.
“Have a good night, beautiful girl.”
“You too, beautiful lady.”
