Mrs. Watson continued down the hallway. “Fine, stay there. Your father will find you there when he comes to get you.” She turned around. “Unless you want to talk about it.”
Tedi shrugged. “I guess he’ll find me here.” Then he’ll kill me. My blood and guts will be all over the hallway when class gets out. Hope it makes Abby Cuendet throw up.
But then what would happen to Mom and Grandma Ivy?
At least an hour later, Tedi saw Dad coming down the hallway from the principal’s office. She held her breath until he reached her. His neck and face were flushed all the way up to his short blond hair.
The bell rang, and classroom doors opened all along the hallway.
“Let’s go,” Dad said.
Tedi breathed again, following him out the side exit. She ignored the other kids as they rushed out of class. Dad ignored them, too, which probably broke Lyssa Cole’s heart. She had a crush on him. She was weird.
After Tedi stepped into the passenger side of their red BMW, Dad slammed the door so hard she went cold all over. Yep, he was mad.
Her hands gripped each other tightly in her lap as the engine roared into life and the car sprang forward. Why had she been so stubborn with Mrs. Watson? She’d refused to even go back into the classroom and get her books. Now she’d not only be in trouble, but she would be making trouble for herself for later.
But she wasn’t trying to be stubborn. Not really. She just hadn’t wanted to face the class.
Okay, maybe she was a little mad at Mrs. Watson. Why did she expect so much?
Tedi glanced sideways at Dad. Was that alcohol she smelled?
He made a turn too fast, and Tedi fell against the door. She didn’t have her seat belt on. She reached up and pulled it down and fastened it. Just in time.
Dad slammed on the brakes, screeching the tires for at least three feet.
Yes, that was alcohol on his breath.
Tedi looked at him. He had “patriotic” eyes—red, white and blue. She’d heard Mom use that term about him often enough that it wasn’t funny anymore. Especially now.
He stared straight ahead. “You think I’m a reckless driver?” he demanded.
Reckless was a stupid word. Made it sound like you could never have a wreck. Dad was “wreckful,” not “wreckless.” He’d had several accidents to prove it.
“No, Dad, I don’t think you’re reckless. I just forgot to put my seat belt on when we got into the car. I always wear my seat belt. Mom makes me wear it. When you turned—”
Dad gunned the motor and sped along Highway F toward home. “I get your point.”
How could he get a point she was trying not to make?
She glanced sideways at him again. “Um, Dad, would you please slow down a little? This is scaring me.”
“You should’ve thought of that before you made that airhead teacher of yours call me.”
Tedi grimaced with growing anger. “I didn’t make her call you. I fell asleep in class, and she made a big deal out of it.”
“That’s not the way I heard it from her. I heard this isn’t the first time you’ve caused trouble in class lately. Do you know she had me paged from an important luncheon meeting with some prospective buyers for the Reynolds Ranch? Do you know how much commission I stand to lose on that deal?” He turned into their drive at home.
Tedi wondered if that was one of those martini lunches she’d heard about. “Sorry I’m such a pain to you, Dad.”
He didn’t even catch the sarcasm in her voice. “If I lose that sale, we may think about taking you out of that fancy school of yours.”
Tedi gritted her teeth. Why should he care? He wasn’t paying for it.
He got out and slammed his door. She did the same with hers, pushing the door with as much force as she could. It made a satisfying WHOMP!
Dad just walked on up the sidewalk toward the front entrance.
Tedi opened the car door wide, then slammed it even harder. “I hate you,” she said under her breath, glaring at Dad’s back. “I hate you, hate you, hate you.”
He unlocked the house and turned to wait for her.
She continued glaring.
He just waited.
Her glare wavered. Grandma Ivy said that hatred destroyed everything it touched. Tedi didn’t really hate Dad. She just wanted him to stop drinking and stop saying bad things about Mom.
Dad kept waiting, and Tedi finally went in.
He closed the door behind them, slowly and quietly. He did that when he was really mad and trying to keep from losing his temper. He’d lost his temper and kicked a dog so hard once that he broke its ribs. He’d broken windows with his fists and kicked holes in walls. Always he’d been drinking when he did it.
“Can I go up to my room?” Tedi asked. “I’m tired.”
He raised a brow at her. He didn’t act drunk now. “Why are you tired? You went to bed early enough last night. Besides, you slept in class today, didn’t you?”
His sarcastic tone made her madder. “Only because your fight with Julie kept me awake last night,” she snapped. “I’m falling behind in class. Mrs. Watson thinks there might be something wrong at home. She asked me if you helped me with my homework, and I told her you were too busy.” Tedi knew she shouldn’t be saying all this, but she couldn’t help herself.
“So I’m supposed to be doing your homework for you now? Is there something wrong with trying to make a living for my family?”
Tedi narrowed her eyes at him. “But you don’t.”
He stood for a long moment, glaring at her as red color once more crept up his face.
She glared back at him, heart pounding. She felt now as she did when she argued with Abby Cuendet during lunch—mad enough to say just about anything.
But Dad was bigger than Abby, and Abby didn’t drink.
He took a step toward her.
“Can I go to my room now?” Without waiting for a reply, Tedi pivoted away from him.
His left hand came down hard on her right shoulder, and he jerked her around to face him, his thumb and fingers digging painfully into her flesh. His other hand drew back. Way back. His angry eyes burned out at her.
“Daddy, don’t!” Tedi ducked.
She caught her breath and braced herself, tensing for a strike that didn’t land. She remained braced for a long time, then raised her head to find Dad frozen in position, eyes wide, face drained of color.
He released her shoulder and lowered his hand, but the pain still spurted down her arm. “Go to your room, Tedi.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m going back to work.”
The spacious corner office that Dr. Jarvis George had used at Knolls Community for the past twenty years reflected the passion of his life: hunting. A moose head overlooked his credenza. The head and rack of a twelve-point buck peered out from between two glass-fronted bookcases filled with outdated medical texts. A rich, dark brown leather couch and two overstuffed chairs were situated so that visitors had a chance to peruse several hunting pictures taken in the field.
At the moment, Jarvis found no pleasure in his surroundings. He sat behind his massive oak desk and stared at the report. That insolent new doctor had decided to fill it out after that stupid needlestick incident this morning. The RMQA—risk management and quality assurance officer—was