Do I ever. In fact, that soft spot is the exact reason I exist.
Noah doesn’t flinch. “Setting an example means teaching your kids to take responsibility for their actions. To understand that choices have consequences. We came to your door because your son threw a rock through Lottie’s windshield. A rock that could have seriously injured Lottie or the kids.”
Carlotta scoffs. “What about me, Foxy? Am I chopped liver?”
I shoot her a look that says,not now, maybe not ever.
“But it didn’t,” Daryl growls. “Nobody died.”
“But things could have gone differently,” Everett counters, his voice dropping to that dangerous tone that makes me want to pull him behind the shed and have a sticky quickie with him.
And really?Eww. I shoot Carlotta a dirty look for even putting the thought into my mind.
“And that’s the point,” Everett continues. “We’re sorry if you felt embarrassed. But there have to be consequences. Had that rock injured or killed someone in my family, the outcome would have been dire for all parties involved. Those kids needed to understand that one wrong decision could cost them, and someone else, everything.” He pauses with his gaze still steady on Daryl. “But what you taught them is that when someone calls you out for doing something wrong, you double down. You escalate. You retaliate. You teach them that might makes right and thatintimidation is an acceptable response to accountability.” His voice is calm but cutting. “You didn’t teach them to be men, Daryl. You taught them to be bullies.”
The silence that follows is heavy.
Noah steps forward. “You have until tomorrow morning to turn yourself in at the station. Voluntary surrender. Otherwise, I’ll have a warrant out for your arrest. And I promise you, I don’t want your kids to watch their father get arrested. Not on Mother’s Day. Not on any day. But if you make me come get you, that’s what’s going to happen.”
Daryl’s face goes through about seventeen different emotions—rage, defiance, fear, and finally something that might be shame.
He stalks off without a word, cursing under his breath, growling as he makes his way toward the house and slams the door hard enough to rattle every window on the block.
Tammy stands there in the driveway, looking smaller somehow. Older. Like the weight of everything just settled on her shoulders all at once.
“I’m genuinely sorry,” she says lower than a whisper. She looks at me, then at Noah and Everett. “I’ve been thinking a lot ever since we first spoke.” She takes a shaky breath. “I’ve decided to leave Daryl. I’m moving to Arizona to be with my mother.”
She wipes at her eyes. “I’m hoping a new start with new friends and a new school will put my family on the right track. I love my kids. And I’ll never give up on them. But they need better than this. Better than him.”
My heart breaks a little.
“You’re a good mother,” I tell her, and I genuinely mean it.
Tammy’s face crumples. She steps forward and hugs me, tight and desperate, and just a touch grateful, too. And I hug her back because sometimes that’s all you can do.
When we pull apart, tears are streaming down her cheeks, but she’s smilinga little, too.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“If you need anything at all,” I tell her. “Please reach out.”
The four of us walk back home under the streetlights, processing everything that just transpired.
“Do you think he’ll turn himself in?” I ask.
“He will,” Noah says. “He’s a coward, but he’s not stupid. He knows we’ve got him.”
“And Tammy?” I look back over my shoulder at the Pickens house. “Do you think she’ll really leave?”
“I hope so,” Everett says. “For her sake. And for those kids.”
We turn onto our street, and I can see our house up ahead—lights glowing in the windows, warm and welcoming and safe.
“There it is, home sweet home,” I say, linking arms with Noah and Everett as we walk. “You know what’s probably happening at our house right now?”
“What’s that?” Noah asks.
“Evie and Lyla Nell are covered in glitter and glue. A total craft catastrophe.”
