Hadley & Grace(10)

She turns and smiles as if she likes it.

“Mmmm,” he says with another rub, then pulls away to pour himself a glass of wine.

When he returns to the table, he says, “By the way, I think I need to get rid of the new girl.”

“Really? I thought you liked her,” Hadley says.

“Turns out she’s useless. That’s what I get for doing someone a favor.”

“Didn’t you say she was the first assistant you’ve had with half a brain?”

Frank doesn’t respond. He does that a lot: offers up what seems like a conversation, only to ignore her when she takes part.

She returns to tossing the salad.

Half a minute later, he says, “Jesus fucking Christ!”

Hadley’s head snaps up. Mattie is in the archway, Prince Charles beside her.

“Wipe that shit off your face,” Frank says. “You look like a goddamn whore. And what the fuck is that in your ear?”

Every fiber in Hadley’s body tenses, and she watches as Mattie’s face darkens; then she turns to Hadley, her glare challenging her to say something. When Hadley remains mute, she storms away.

“What the hell?” Frank says. “Why do you let her go around like that?”

Hadley says nothing, her blood pumping wildly. She always reminds Mattie to remove her makeup and earrings before her dad sees her. But tonight she was distracted: first by her daughter’s hate, then by the spider, then by Skipper. She always remembers. “Mattie, your dad’s home. Make sure you wash your face and take off your jewelry.” Jewelry being a polite euphemism for her bizarre piercings.

Frank went nuts when Mattie dyed her hair. He raged, grabbed a pair of scissors, threatened to shave her head as punishment. The only thing that stopped him was Hadley begging him not to. She was literally in their bedroom on her knees blocking the door, and then her mouth was on his cock, and because of that, he let it be. The memory sickens her. That is how she protects her daughter. She feels the pain in her scalp as she remembers him yanking her hair as she went about it, the searing pain of having her hair wrenched from its roots and the deeper hurt of the cruel things Frank said, words she prayed Mattie would never hear.

Of course Mattie knows none of this. She believes Hadley is a terrible mother who does nothing to stand up for her. She’s right about the first part; no good mother would have allowed things to go this far.

She stops chopping and leans against the counter, the knife trembling in her hand. And now Skipper is leaving. Without Mattie knowing it, Skipper is the one who has protected her.

Yes, Frank yells, says horrible things, has a temper, and throws things. He might even have gone so far as to chop off Mattie’s hair. But he’s never physically hurt her—a mercy bestowed on her by Skipper simply being who he is.

Shortly after Skipper started preschool, his teacher called Hadley and Frank in because she was concerned about something Skipper had said—a strange story about a coach locking someone or something named Blue in the bathroom and not letting them out. Coach of course was Frank, and Hadley was Blue, but the teacher had no way of knowing that.

Frank sweet-talked his way out of it, blaming it on a nightmare and the overactive imagination of a four-year-old, but it was enough of a scare for Frank to realize that, unlike Mattie and Hadley, Skipper couldn’t be controlled—his artlessness as much a part of him as the color of his hair.

From that day on, Frank constrained his violence to the master bedroom, a place children weren’t allowed, which has spared Mattie from the worst of his rages.

When Vanessa called, it was Hadley’s first thought. No! You can’t take him. How will I protect Mattie? She straightened the thought immediately, realizing how wrong it was. She was the one who was supposed to protect Mattie. She just had no idea how she would manage it without Skipper.

Then, suddenly, as if some guardian angel had been listening, the chance she’d been praying for was in front of her, the smallest sliver of opportunity opening with Vanessa’s change of plans. The only question: Was Hadley brave enough to take it?

“So, Freeway Series tomorrow?” Frank says, bringing her back to the moment. His tone is light, as if nothing’s happened, but she knows by the way he shifts in his seat that he’s uncomfortable, worried he’s upset Skipper. “Wilson versus Kershaw,” he goes on when Skipper doesn’t answer. “A good matchup. Definitely don’t want to miss that.”

Skipper turns, his saucer eyes unblinking.

Frank smiles warmly. “Blue can stream it for you on her iPad so you can watch it in the car.”

Skipper tilts his head, absorbing the words a beat late; then his mouth twitches with a grin as he nods. Frank relaxes, and Hadley exhales as well.

She carries the salad to the table as Mattie slinks into her chair, her face scrubbed clean and the earrings gone. She folds her arms across her chest and looks at her plate.

Hadley sits across from her, and Frank bows his head.

“Bless us, oh Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ, our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen,” they say together.

Frank grabs the salad, and Hadley returns to the kitchen for the pizzas.

She sets them on the table, then goes back for the drinks.

She is pouring Skipper’s milk when Frank’s wineglass whizzes past to smash against the wall. “Are you fucking kidding me?”