Chapter 7
Stan knew something was wrong the moment he stepped through the front door that evening and took one look at Prissy’s face.
“Hey, baby,” he greeted her, balancing three extra-large pizza boxes as he leaned down to kiss her cheek. “What’s the matter?”
Before she could respond, Montana, Magnum, Maddox and Mason stampeded past him into the house, still buzzing with excitement over the sci-fi adventure film they’d just watched.
“Hey, Ma!” they chorused, peeling off their coats. “Dad took us to the movies!”
Prissy smiled wanly. “I know. Did you enjoy it?”
“Yeah!”They began recapping their favorite scenes, their animated voices tumbling over one another’s until Stan interrupted with a sharp whistle that cut through the cacophony.
He glanced at each of them in turn. “I thought you boys said you were hungry?”
“We are!” Montana confirmed.
“Starving!”Magnum added.
“Then take these”— Stan handed the pizza boxes to Montana —“and go eat.”
They didn’t have to be told twice. As they took off for the kitchen, Prissy—who’d somehow wound up with an armful of coats—began hanging them neatly in the mud room, where they also stored boots and mittens, backpacks, sports gear and umbrellas.
Stan followed Prissy inside the cheery room and touched her shoulder, feeling the tension beneath her suit jacket. “What’s going on, baby? Is everything okay?”
“No.” Finished with her task, Prissy turned to look at him. Instinctively fearing the worst—that she’d somehow uncovered his secret—Stan braced himself for the confrontation he’d been dreading for months.
But then she said, “Your son was suspended from school today.”
It was the last thing Stan had expected to hear. “What?” he exclaimed, staring at her. “Suspended for what?”
“Fighting.”
“Fighting?”
Prissy nodded, looking grim. “According to the principal, Manny started the fight by throwing the first punch.”
Stan frowned. “He must have been provoked.”
“That’s no justification for what he did,” Prissy countered sharply. “Anyway, I don’t know whether he was provoked or not because he wouldn’t tell me or Principal Henderson what really happened.”
“What do you mean he wouldn’t tell you?” Stan demanded.
Prissy sighed, wearily pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “He’s being difficult.Uncooperative.”
Stan scowled. “We’ll see about that. Where is he?”
“Upstairs cleaning his room, which he wassupposedto do earlier when I dropped him off at home.But when I got back from the board meeting ten minutes ago, I found him lying across his bed fast asleep. He hadn’t picked up a damn thing.”
Clenching his jaw, Stan left the mud room and strode to the bottom of the staircase. “Manny!” he called up. “Get your behind down here!”
Moments later he heard the heavy thud of footsteps moving across the second floor, and then Manning appeared at the top of the stairs. When Stan saw the shiner his son was sporting, he swore under his breath.
“Boy,” he warned, “don’tlet me find out that you got your butt kicked.”
Prissy gasped. “Stanton!”
“I’m just sayin’, baby. If he started the fight, he’d damn well better had finished it.”