"That's ok," I assured her. "I just get scared that you'll hate me because of this. I wanted to tell you, Faith. I really did, but your mother could've used it to keep me from seeing you."
"It's ok," she assured me, sounding far too wise for her age. "Mom doesn't need to know. I just want to make sure that your friends are good enough for you."
I shifted my hands so I could squeeze hers gently. "Thanks, cupcake. Just remember that when I start asking about your partners, ok? Boyfriends, girlfriends, or whatever else. I'll just want to make sure that they're good enough for you."
"Deal," she said, bobbing her head to show she meant it.
Chapter Five
After the cops left, the house began to calm down a little. Everyone changed out of their nice clothes and into something a lot more casual. The guys headed outside saying something about a dog. Since Faith was going to be staying here, we'd promised she could have one, and the yard still wasn't finished. Close, but not completely done.
Cessily, on the other hand, wanted the pictures Ash and I had taken of the damage. She was honestly going to send those to the insurance company, but also to the rest of the Board of Directors. When I was done changing clothes and rummaging for cleaning supplies, I heard her in my office talking to Cobalt about the Oversight Committee.
That meant I could finally focus on the door. With a bucket of warm water, two scrubbing brushes, and every window cleaner I could find in the house, I headed for the porch. There, I dropped to my knees and began at the bottom of the glass. Then I scrubbed. Every ounce of anger, frustration, and helplessness I had went into it, and the soft sound of the brush on glass took over my entire world.
Dip, scrub, wipe away the tinted water dripping down toward the wood. Repeat. Over and over, I just kept going, watching the distorted forms of my family through the beveled and frosted glass. This was all I could do to help, and I'd be damned if I gave up. I didn't know how long I was there, but I'd managed to remove "die" for the most part when the sound of tires on the gravel made me look back to check the drive.
An older-model sedan was easing its way up toward the house. I didn't recognize it, but when it parked, Zeke hopped out of the passenger side. The look on his face made me want to stand up and put my body between his eyes and the words I was desperately trying to remove.
"Honey, go check on Faith," Emily told him as the pair walked up.
She was carrying something, but held it hugged to her side so I couldn't quite tell what. I tried to get up so Zeke could walk past, but my knees decided to protest. Instead, I rolled onto my hip and waved for him to go through.
"She should be out back, they're talking about the dog yard," I told the boy. "If not, she's probably in her room."
"She'll be there," he said, pausing to offer me a hand up. "You ok, Violet?"
I accepted, impressed at the kid's strength. "I'm just mad, Zeke." Then I gestured for him to go on.
When I waved for Emily to follow, she reached out and closed the door again, then showed me what she was carrying: Murphy's oil soap.
"Faith told Zeke about the door," Emily explained. "Well, about all of it, sounds like. Zeke told me. I happen to know how to get spray paint off wood, so I thought you could use some help."
"You don't have to - " I tried.
Emily scoffed at that, cutting me off before I could finish. "And y'all didn't have to help with Zeke. Luke didn't have to fix my door. Violet, I already called off from work, so you might as well let me help."
I just moved over, sharing the space before the door with her. "The truth is that I think I need it," I told her. "I'm also not used to accepting that."
"Hard, huh?" She smiled at me. "We get so used to having to do it all that we can't wrap our minds around someone just helping without an ulterior motive." Then she pulled out a plastic package. "Steel wool. Should make cleaning the glass easier." And she passed that over. "I'll focus on the wood. No reason to mess up the door."
"It was Gran's," I said, pulling out a piece of steel wool and soaking it. "She loved this door. Said it made the house look fancy."
Emily picked up one of the brushes, then poured the oil soap over the paint, directly on the door. "So, how shook are the guys?"
All I could do was blow out a breath. "I think Luke's the worst, in all honesty. Cy and Ash are used to this."
"Shouldn't be," she mumbled.
"No, they shouldn't," I agreed. "One of the guys that grew up here said something about how the next generation - Zeke's generation - shouldn't have to deal with this. So, we might be picking a bit of a fight soon."
She just nodded as she scrubbed. "How do I help?"
"Emily..."
"No," she huffed. "Violet, my son is gay. The people who did this? They probably have kids, and those kids are going to go to school and take it out on Zeke." She grabbed a rag and wiped the excess from the door, then turned to face me. "Did you know that Zeke's never had a friend before Faith? He's been bullied since he was in second grade because he liked glitter pens. Well, that made him stop liking them. Then they picked on him for how he walked, how he talked. I just thought my boy was the gentle kind, maybe a bit of a nerd. Last year, I yelled at him for always getting in trouble at school, and he told me they just hate him because he's a faggot."
"Shit," I breathed.
