have time to aim it before I kicked it away. “You fucker. I should’ve expected that. I’ve been in my share of fights before. I’m not naïve and if you think that scares me you’re a fool. Now get up. Fight like a man.”
He didn’t budge. I repeated my words. He tried to reach for the gun but I kicked it further away. I’d make sure he’d pay for beating up English. Fury overrode everything and all I wanted him to do was stand so I could land another blow on him.
The cops arrived and English stood outside. Beck and his wife also came and I hadn’t been aware English had called them. If I’d had it my way, I would’ve beaten him unconscious. He’d tried to kill her. Who would do such a thing?
In the hospital, I learned their story. When I did, my admiration for English blossomed. She was amazing for raising her child on her own. But now she would have his family to face. Beck said Stuart’s name was not on the birth certificate, but we both knew they could require a DNA test and lay claim to the child with the results. This might end up a nightmare for both English and Easton.
The only saving grace was this incident and the fact there was a witness. Domestic abuse was not taken lightly anymore. I would do anything in my power to help them.
On Saturday, I went to visit her and brought more flowers. When she opened the door, I held back my gasp. Her cheek was solid purple and swollen along with her neck. There would be no way to cover that up.
“Hey, come in.”
A young child sat on the couch watching TV. “Who are you?” she asked.
“I’m Tristian. Who are you?”
“I’m Easton, but I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers. Stranger danger.”
“That’s a very good thing, but I’m a friend of your mom and your gran—”
“Easton, he works with Mommy and Boppy, so he’s not a stranger.”
Easton had blonde curly hair, exactly like her mom’s, with huge hazel eyes. “Are you a ’tographer?”
“I sure am. Want me to take your picture?”
Her head swung back and forth, curls flying. “Nope, cuz Boppy does it all the time.”
“Hey, Easton, you’re supposed to say ‘no, thank you.’ What happened to your manners?” English asked.
“Sorry, Mommy. No, thank you.”
“That’s better.”
“Mr. Trishan, do you like the purple grapes on Mommy’s face?”
“Uh, I’m not sure,” I said. “Do you?”
“No way! I think she should take them back.”
“Me too.”
“Hey, you want some milk and cookies? Banana made them and they’re real good.”
Banana? “Okay. Are you going to have some too?”
“Duh. I love milk and cookies. Come on.” She jumped up and held out her hand. We went into the kitchen where she pointed to a cookie jar on the counter. “There.”
I opened it and inside were chocolate chip cookies. “Yum, I love chocolate chip.”
“Is there a different kind?”
Good question.
“There.” She pointed to a cabinet. Inside were glasses.
“Let me guess. There.” I pointed to the refrigerator.
She giggled. “Yeah, silly.”
I found the milk and poured two glasses.
“We gotta sit at the counter to eat. Mommy’s rules.”
I put her on one chair while I took the other. She dunked a cookie and nibbled on it. “Mmm. It’s good.”
I mimicked her and agreed. “These are the best.”
“Told ya. Banana’s are the best.” Then she leaned closer to me. “But don’t tell Mommy.” She grinned with a bunch of chocolate embedded in her tiny teeth. It would’ve been an awesome picture.
“Don’t worry, I won’t. Your secret’s safe. But who’s Banana?”
“You know—she’s with Geepa.”
Guess that explanation would have to do. “Hey, what happened to your tooth?”
“This one?” She pointed to the one that was missing.
“Yeah.”
“It fell out and the tooth fairy took it away. But she left me a dollar.” Her eyes were saucers as she explained.
“No way.”
“Way. And look here.” She wiggled the tooth next to the missing one. “I think this one’s gonna fall out next.”
“You think you’ll get more money?”
“Yep.” She bit into her cookie.
“What will you do when all your teeth fall out?”
She grinned with her mouth full and I wanted to crack up. “You’re silly. I’ll get new ones. See?” Her pointer finger aimed at her two bottom teeth, which were her permanent ones.
“Ah, I see.”
We finished and went back to the living room, where English lay on the couch. “How were the cookies?”
“Excellent,” I said.
“Good,” Easton said. “Now me and Mr. Trishan are going to my room. I wanna show him