AUTHOR'S NOTE: Someone has finally had enough of Charlie and her behavior... yes, there is spanking in this chapter. You have been warned!
Daddy and I were at Ben's practice, and Lisa turned to me and said, "So, Charlie, my work is sponsoring a 'Mother and Daughter Day' at a local spa, would you like to come with me? You can get manicures, pedicures, a facial, or a mini- massage and they're going to have ice cream there."
I felt uncomfortable. "Uh, I dunno," I said.
Daddy saw my face and leaned over to me. "Is it because of what happened before?" he asked me quietly.
I glanced at him and nodded.
He sat up and explained, "Charlie had a...bad experience with her aunt and getting a manicure, right after her Mom...passed away."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Lisa said, "Well, I thought I would let you know, but if you don't want to, that's perfectly understandable. We can find something else to do together if you want. You need a break from being around all those men!" she winked at me.
"We can go to the thing," I said, feeling brave suddenly, "I'll try it."
"Good, It's next week," Lisa said, "I'll double check the day and time and let you know, Dean."
We stood up and started to close up the chairs as Ben came walking over.
"Can we go over to the playground?" Ben asked.
"No, Ben, you've got to work on that project, remember? I told you that we were going to come right home after practice today," Lisa said to him.
"Hey, can we go out for ice cream? Don'cha want to, Charlie?" Ben appealed to me.
"Ben-"
"Pleeeeease, Mom!" Ben whined, frowning at her.
"What did I just say-"
"Why do you gotta be so mean?" Ben yelled suddenly, throwing his catcher's mitt on the ground.
I turned on him. "Don't yell at your mom!" I yelled at him, "She's not mean! At least- at least you have a mom!" I turned to Lisa and threw my arms around her waist, feeling tears come to my eyes. I missed my mom all of a sudden.
Lisa put her arms around me and hugged me. "Aww, sweetie," she said, patting my back.
I let go of her and looked up at her. "I think you're nice," I said hoarsely, and she smiled and took my hands, giving them a quick squeeze. Then in a flash I saw her talking on the phone to someone, saying, "I think I got passed over again," and then her walking into an office where a man was sitting behind a desk.
"You didn't get passed over, you're going to get the promotion," I blurted, and then I stepped backwards, feeling my face get red.
"What?" she asked, frowning a little bit.
"Sorry, I- I saw it," I explained, "I saw you talking on the phone and then going into an office with a bald man sitting behind a desk. You're going to get the promotion this time."
She gave a short laugh. "That's my boss. Well, I hope it's true," she said.
Ben was looking at the ground and shuffling his feet. "Sorry, Mom," he said sulkily. He leaned over and picked up his glove.
"Let's go, young man," she said to him. She and Daddy picked up the chairs and we walked over to the cars.
"We'll see you soon," Lisa said.
"Bye, Ben," I called.
He had gotten into the car already.
She shook her head. "He's been in a mood since the game, and he's been dragging his feet on this project too," she told us, "sorry about his behavior."
"I'm fine, I'm more concerned with you," Daddy said.
Lisa laughed. "Oh, I can handle my son. If he keeps it up he's going to go to bed with a sore behind. See you later, Dean."
We got into the car and Daddy turned around in the front seat and looked at me with raised eyebrows.
"Are you okay?" he questioned.
"Yeah, why?" I asked, feeling shy all of a sudden.
"You looked like you were expecting to get yelled at."
"Well, I uh, it just seems to, you know, I can't stop it. And when Ben got mad at me before it made me feel bad," I looked down at my hands in my lap.
"Not everyone is going to react the same, but you have to remember that you're not going to get into trouble, and it's all right," He reached back to cup my cheek, "You sure you're okay? I wasn't expecting you to respond that way to Ben."
I shrugged, not wanting to talk about it. He sat there looked in me for a long moment, then shrugged also. "If you want to talk, I'm here," he turned around and started the car.
We went through a drive-through for dinner because Daddy wanted to go to the grocery store, and said that we shouldn't go while we were hungry. As we were shopping, I started to get tired, so he picked me up and put me in the cart. When we got home, we discovered that Uncle Sam had also gone grocery shopping, so we had a lot of food! Since it was almost bedtime, I get ready for bed, because all the extra walking I had done had made me tired.
The next day it was raining when I woke up. I had wanted to go to the park, so I was disappointed. My legs were also feeling sore again, and I didn't want to do my exercises.
"Uncle Saaaaam, I'm ouchy today," I complained, when he had pulled the mat out.
"What's ouchy?" he asked, coming over to me.
"My legs hurt like they did the other day," I told him.
"Hmm," he said, frowning, "Is it the muscles, or the joints?"
"I dunno," I shrugged, "I don't want to do any exercises though."
"Let me see," he said, holding my ankle and straightening my leg. He lifted my leg a little bit and moved it back and forth. "Where does it hurt?"
"There," I waved at the back of my leg.
He touched the muscle of my calf. "Here?"
"Ow, yeah!" I gasped.
"All right, how about I massage your legs? I still want you to do your hand exercises and then do some writing later."
"O- kaay," I said. At least when I was doing the hand exercises, I could watch t.v. at the same time if I wanted to!
Uncle Sam put the mat away and then walked over to the sofa and sat.
"Come over here and I'll rub your legs," he said. I went over and laid down next to him on my tummy, with my legs on his lap. He massaged my calf muscles until they didn't hurt anymore.
"Is that better?" he asked when he was finished.
"Yeah, thanks, I said, rolling on my side.
"All right, I'm going to make lunch," he patted my bottom and I moved my legs so he could stand up.
"Can I watch tv for now?" I asked.
He looked at me and sighed. "I guess so."
Daddy came into the room from Uncle Sam's room. He was helping Grandpa John do some research. He walked over and sat down next to me.
"What are you watching?" he asked.
"Well, it's a show about ponies, they're all friends and they live in a village together," I explained.
"Those ponies are everywhere, I see them all over whenever I go to a store," Daddy said, "you like them?"
"It's an okay show," I said.
"All right, come and eat," Uncle Sam called. Daddy stood up and picked me up, carrying me over to the kitchen and setting me down in a chair. Uncle Sam watched him in silence and shook his head slightly.
"What is that?" I asked.
"It's called hummus, it's something different," Uncle Sam told me, "you use the bread to scoop it up, it's good," There was a pita cut up into triangles.
"It lookes like brown cement!" I said.
"Try it."
Daddy looked doubtful. I picked up a piece of the pita bread and dipped it in the hummus. Then I took a bite. "Yuck! No thanks!" I wrinkled my nose.
Uncle Sam chuckled. "I thought I'd try it, see it you like it. Dean?"
"I've had it before, it's not my favorite," Daddy said, "Charlie, do you want me to make you a grilled cheese?"
"Okay," I agreed. Daddy got out a pan and turned on the stove. Grandpa John came into the room and sat down. "I haven't had hummus in years," he said, "What, are you turning into a hippie, Sam?" he grinned.
"More like a hipster," Daddy scoffed, "Next it'll be kale chips and smoothies."
"Hummus is a good souce of protein," Uncle Sam said, "don't knock it."
In a couple of minutes, Daddy brought a plate over to me. "Umm...why does this look different?" I asked, "Is it made with white bread?"
Daddy sat down and started to eat his grilled cheese sandwich. "No, wheat."
"I don't like wheat bread!" I complained, "Why do we have it?"
"That's what I bought," Uncle Sam said, "Wheat bread is healthier that white, white has almost no nutritional value."
"I don't like wheat," I repeated, "Just white bread!"
"Try it, Charlie, you might like it," Uncle Sam said.
"I have tried it before, and I don't like it!" I snapped, pushing the plate away from me.
"All right, I'll make you mac and cheese," Daddy said, getting up from the table. He went to the shelf and pulled out the box of single serving mac and cheese bowls that he had bought recently.
"We running a restaurant here, Dean?" Grandpa John asked dryly, "When you were younger it was 'eat what's put in front of you and that's it'. You boys ate what I gave you or you went without," He picked up my sandwich and started to eat it.
"The doctor said she's supposed to be eating every couple of hours, remember?" Daddy said, "so I'll make her something if she wants it."
"Yeah, and she's supposed to be eating healthy foods," Uncle Sam looked over at Daddy, "Microwavable foods aren't really that healthy."
"Well, it's not like this is all she eats 24-7," Daddy retorted.
"Let's make sure of that," Uncle Sam said.
Grandpa John's phone rang and he answered it. "Winchester. Hey, Singer, how's it going? Okay, yeah. Let me get to the laptop-" he stood up and looked at Uncle Sam. "Sammy," he motioned to the other room with his head, and Uncle Sam followed him into their room.
Daddy made me some mac and cheese and himself another grilled cheese.
"I think you're supposed to rest now," he told me when I had finished eating.
"But I'm not tired," I said. "I thought that was only if I had exercised. Can I watch t.v.?"
Daddy looked doubtful. "I don't think Sam ever specified, so-"
Grandpa John walked into the room with the phone up to his ear. "Dean, I need to check your trunk for some supplies," he said.
"All right, Dad," Daddy stood up. "Go ahead and watch for a little while, Charlie," he told me. He got his car keys out and followed Grandpa John out to the parking lot.
I must have fallen asleep on the sofa, because I was dimly aware of hearing voices talking every once in a while and hearing the door opening and closing. When I finally woke up all the way, I could smell food cooking. I got up and walked into the kitchen, where Uncle Sam was setting the table.
"It smells like bacon, are we having bacon?" I asked hopefully, sitting down.
"No, I made baked pork chops," Uncle Sam said.
"Pork chops?" I asked skeptically. I had never had them before.
Daddy and Grandpa John walked in from the other room, and Daddy washed his hands at the sink. "We can finish cleaning the guns tonight," he said to Grandpa John.
"Yes, with broccoli and salad," Uncle Sam told me.
"Yuck! I hate broccoli!" I snapped, wrinkling my nose.
"Then eat some salad."
Daddy and Grandpa John brought the food over to the table and they all sat down.
Daddy put food on my plate and handed it to me.
I stabbed the pork chop with my fork and picked it up. "Am I s'posed to eat it like this?"
Uncle Sam brought a couple of bottles of salad dressing to the table. "No, cut it up with your knife."
"It'll be too hard," I looked up at him.
"Charlie," he gave me a look, "try cutting it up, it will be good exercise for your hands."
"I don't want to," I whined.
Daddy pulled my plate over to him. "I'll cut it up for you."
"Dean-"
"Sam, pork chops can be hard to cut! I don't want her hurting herself with the kinfe!" Daddy gave Uncle Sam a look and then cut up the meat for me.
I ate a piece of meat and chewed it slowly.
"What do you think?" Daddy asked.
I ate another piece. "Hmm, it tastes okay, but it's too chewy," I said, "I don't really like it."
"Do you want me to make you something else?" Daddy asked.
"Dean, sit down and eat your dinner. Charlie's not going to starve," Grandpa John said to me, "And you can eat the pork chop, just cut it into smaller pieces if you're having trouble chewing it."
"But I don't-"
"You just said it tastes okay, eat some more," Grandpa John said firmly, "It's related to bacon, you know."
"It is?" I asked.
"Yeah, it is." Daddy said, "If you're still hungry after this I'll make you something else."
"She could eat the broccoli I made," Uncle Sam said.
"I hate broccoli!" I complained.
"I'm not going to make her eat something she hates," Daddy said, "you remember, there were certain foods you didn't like, and Dad never made you eat them."
""Fine, no broccoli then. Take some salad."
I ate salad without complaining. After dinner, I watched as Daddy and Grandpa John took apart and cleaned a few guns. Daddy showed me the parts of a gun and explained how it worked, but reminded me that I wasn't allowed to ever touch one until I had been trained how to use it. He said I was still too young to learn how to used weapons.
On Wednesday I was at PT doing group exercises, and we had been using a rainbow-colored parachute. There was a little girl next to me with very short hair, she was almost bald, and when the therapist told us to drop the parachute, she lost her balance and fell over. I leaned down and grabbed her hands to help her stand up, and I saw a man and a woman sitting in front of a desk and a man in a white doctor coat sitting behind the desk, and they were all crying.
"Your tests will be positive at first but they need to do them again and they will be negative," I blurted out.
She looked up at me and frowned. "What do you mean?"
I started to blush. "I, uh-" I tried to not say anything, but it was like the words wouldn't stay inside of me, and I said, "The doctors have to do the tests more than once, you'll see!"
She stood there staring at me, and the therapist was saying to everyone that the session was over and she'd see us in two days. I turned and saw Uncle Sam coming in the door, so I hurried over to him as fast as I could, feeling tears starting. I grabbed him around the waist and buried my face in his stomach.
"Hey, what's this? Charlie, are you okay?" he asked with concern.
"Let's go," I said quickly, "Can we just leave!"
"All right," he said, and I let go of him and took his hand.
Once we got to the car, he turned around in the seat and looked at me. "What happened in there?" he questioned.
"There was a girl next to me and she fell, she had hair like Mommy's did when it started to grow back after her treatments, just all fuzzy, and she fell and when I helped her up I took her hands and I saw people crying with a doctor and I told her that the tests need to be done more than once," I babbled, tears running down my face.
"Wait, slow down," Uncle Sam said, "There was a girl next to you and you saw something when you touched her?"
"Yeah...I saw that there was a man and woman talking to a doctor and they were all crying but it wasn't sad crying, and I knew that the tests were going to be positive at first but then they'd be negative if they did them again. And when I said that she was frowning at me!" my chest hitched, "I don't want to be like this, Uncle Sam, I can't- I can't keep it inside, I try to keep the words in but they have to come out, and I don't like it when people look at me like that!" I let out a sob.
I saw movement outside of the car, and then the girl and a woman were walking over to us. Uncle Sam opened the car door and got out.
"Excuse me," I heard the woman say, "Your daughter said something to my daughter and I'd like to know what she meant."
I gulped and opened the door, and got out to stand next to Uncle Sam. I took his hand and felt him squeeze mine.
"This is my niece, and she can...'see' things that are going to happen when she touches people sometimes." Uncle Sam explained calmly to her.
"Oh?" the woman looked at him and then at me.
"You," I said, "I saw you, and a man, and you were sitting at a desk and there was a doctor there and you were all crying but it was happy. And I knew that the tests will be positive at first but then they have to be redone and they will be negative. You have to do them over."
The woman looked stunned, and tears came to her eyes. She put her hand up to her mouth for a moment, and then looked down at the girl. "We...we just had testing done, and it was positive, and we talked about doing more treatments...are you saying we should have them do the tests over?"
"Yes," I said.
She stared at me. "I had a feeling, I don't know, that something wasn't right...you just start to know when you've got a sick little one, you know?" she looked up at Uncle Sam, "She's being treated for Hodgkin's, and they thought they had got it all, but then they told us no, and we aren't sure where to go...and I just had an 'off 'feeling...I guess I need to talk to the doctor again."
"I- I'm sorry," I said, starting to cry again.
"No, sweetie, don't apologize. I'm not upset, you just gave me hope," she smiled at me. "Just keep doing what you're doing, your ability is a blessing. Thank you," she and the girl turned and walked away.
I looked up at Uncle Sam and started to cry harder.
"What's wrong?" he asked me, "Why is this upsetting you?"
"I don't- I don't know," I said, "It feels like it's—stronger, and I don't like it! It just- comes over me like a wave and I don't know what to do!"
"All right, shhh," Uncle Sam leaned down and picked me up. He held me tightly and stroked the back of my head as I cried. When I finally calmed down he put me back in the car and helped me buckle the seat belt.
"You rest," he told me, "And we'll talk more about this when we get home."
I woke up in my bed, and rolled over. My stomach was rumbling with hunger. I sat up and swung my feet over the bed to get up, and I heard Grandpa John's voice.
"Missouri's voice mail says she's out of town right now," he said, "I've e-mailed her to let her know what's going on, hopefully she'll get in touch with me soon."
"I'm just concerned because this is the third time it's happened recently and Charlie said it feels like it's getting stronger," I heard Uncle Sam say, "And she was so upset this morning, it took a long time for her to calm down."
"I hope Missouri gets back to you," Daddy said.
I got out of bed and walked out the the living room. Daddy was sitting on the sofa, and he held his arms out to me. "Come here, baby," he said. "I understand you had a rough morning. How are you feeling?"
I walked over to him and climbed into his lap. "Don't wanna talk about it," I said.
He smoothed my hair back from my face. "I'd like to hear what happened."
"I said, I don't want to talk about it!" I snapped.
Daddy took my arms in his hands and turned me towards him, giving me a little shake. "Little girl, you are not going to give me attitude. This is something that I need to know about."
I opened my mouth to talk and then burst into tears. "It just comes over me real strong like a wave and I can't stop it and I get all these- these pictures in my head!" I wailed in a rush, "I don't want to be like this anymore!"
"All right, all right, shh, I'm sorry," Daddy pulled me into a hug, "We're trying to get in touch with Missouri so that we can go visit her like we had planned to."
"What can she do?" I sniffled.
"She can maybe help you learn to control it or at least deal with it better." I felt Daddy's hand rubbing my back.
"Okay."
"Dinner will be ready in about 10 minutes," Uncle Sam called to us.
"Dinner?" I asked.
"Yeah, you slept through the afternoon," Daddy said, "You must be hungry."
"I am, I'm starving," he leaned over and picked me up and carried me into the kitchen.
When he set me down in a chair, Uncle Sam said, "I'm sorry the schedule has been off these past couple of days, Charlie, we're doing research for a hunt that's coming up."
"A hunt?" I asked. "What are you hunting? Another changeling?"
I saw Daddy and Uncle Sam look at each other and do their "talking without words" thing.
"We're still researching," Daddy said, "but that's not something you need to concern yourself with."
"Are you all gonna go? Am I gonna go with you?" I looked back and forth at them.
"No, we wouldn't take you with us," Daddy told me.
"Then where will I go? Who will take care of me?"
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, Charlie. Bobby's calling around and it's probably going to be a couple of other hunters too," Uncle Sam looked at me. "I'd like for you to do some school work tonight, since you haven't done much over the past couple of days."
I looked at Daddy. "Are you gonna go? I don't want you to go. What if you get hurt? And I don't wanna do any work tonight!"
"Charlie, don't worry about the hunt right now, all right?" Daddy said.
"We're getting behind again, and I don't want you to get even more behind," Uncle Sam said to me.
"Well that's not my fault!" I snapped. "You're the one that's been busy, not me!"
Uncle Sam's face got mad. "Young lady, watch your tone and your attitude. You are going to do some work tonight and that's final."
"I don't wanna!" I said loudly, throwing my fork across the table.
"Hey!" both Uncle Sam and Daddy said at the same time.
"I'm not gonna do any school work at night and you can't make me! That's when I watch my shows!" my voice was still loud, and I pounded my fist on the table.
"You're about to lose your t.v. privileges for the night," Uncle Sam said sternly.
I glared up at him. "NO!" I shouted, and I stomped my feet.
Uncle Sam raised his eyebrows. "If you're going to keep this up, then you can leave the table and go straight to bed."
"I just woke up from a nap, I'm not tired!" I snapped. "Daddyyyyy-" I looked at him.
"Charlie, let's compromise. Why don't you do an hour of school work tonight, and then watch one of your shows-" Daddy said in a reasonable voice.
"NO!" I shouted again.
Grandpa John came over to the table. "There's an awful lot of shouting going on," he commented.
"Go to your room," Uncle Sam said in a hard voice, and his jaw twitched.
"It's not faaaaaair," I whined, "Daddy-"
Grandpa John crossed his arms over his chest. "Dean, you want to weigh in here?" he asked.
Daddy rubbed his hand over his face. "Charlie, go to your room," he said tiredly.
"But Daddyyyyyy-"
"Charlie. Did you hear me? Go to your room," Daddy said in a harder voice.
I stood up and my chair clattered noisily back. "Fine, but I'm not going to bed! I'm not tired!" I stomped to my room and slammed the door, then threw myself down on my bed and started to cry.
In a little while, the door opened and Daddy walked in carrying a plate.
"I brought you dinner," he said, sitting down on the bed, "I want you to eat and then take a bath."
I sat up. "Do I have to do school work?" I whined.
"No, but you're going to stay in here the rest of the night and go to bed early."
"Daddyyyyy-"
He held his hand up. "I don't want to hear it. You were very rude before, Charlie, and you owe me and Uncle Sam an apology."
I looked down at the plate. "Sorry," I grumbled.
He sat with me while I ate, and then he filled the tub for me. He stayed with me while I was bathing, talking to me about this and that, and then helped me get ready for bed.
When Uncle Sam and Grandpa John came into the room to say good night, I said, "Sorry I was mean before."
Uncle Sam leaned down and hugged me. "Thank you for apologizing," he said, "We'll get back on track tomorrow, okay?"
Grandpa John and Daddy hugged and kissed me too, and Daddy left the door open partway. I heard Grandpa John's phone ring and he talked to someone for a long time.
I rolled over and started to wake up a little when I heard Daddy say, "What is this, an intervention?"
"We need to talk," Grandpa John said, and his voice was deep and serious.
"About what?" Daddy said slowly.
"About Charlie. And how you're allowing-"
Daddy interrupted Uncle Sam. "Geez, Sam, don't start that again-"
"No, listen," Grandpa John said, "This needs to be talked about, and some things need to be said. So, I'm going to say them," Grandpa John sighed. "Dean, you feel guilty, I get it," he paused, "But you're not doing Charlie any favors-"
"I don't feel guilty, what the hell does that mean?" Daddy asked angrily.
"Dean, come on, all the crap you're letting her get away with? I really can't think of any reason why you'd be doing that other than guilt," Uncle Sam said.
"I don't feel guilty, I don't know where you're getting that from!" Daddy snapped.
"Okay, look," Grandpa John said, and he sighed. "I'm going to level with you, father to father, okay? It's normal to feel guilty sometimes, about your kid. When your kid falls down and hurts themselves on the playground when you're not watching. When you're tired and you lose your temper and yell. But with us, with hunters, there's a stronger guilt, and it can be harder to deal with. It's the guilt that comes when your kid gets hurt because of something that has to do with the supernatural. Every time, every single time one of you'd get hurt on a hunt I felt horrible. That's part of the reason why I trained you so hard...I wanted you to be prepared, and to be able to hold your own, but also so that I could know that you were going to be like a soldier out there and put your best into it, and that way if you did get hurt...then maybe it wasn't all because I'd put you in danger. Does that make sense?"
"You wanted to get out of feeling the guilt?" Sam asked.
"No, Sam, that's not what I meant...that guilt is always there. But if I knew that I had trained you to the best of my ability, and that you were fighting to the best of your ability, then I could say sometimes, well, I know we did our best and he still got hurt, it's not all my fault, it's just that that black shuck was really vicious. Or is was just bad luck that that ghost was really powerful and able to kick the shit out of us. Understand?"
"Yeah..." Uncle Sam said slowly.
"And you, Dean, I know you don't want Charlie anywhere near the supernatural, but it seems like it's her lot in life to already be in it, because of her abilities. You weren't trying to get her involved in a hunt, it just happened. And the guilt that happens in that type of situation is even more powerful. But son, you've got to let it go. You didn't know what was happening, and things...went south very quickly."
"Yeah, but if I hadn't yelled at her like I did...if she had listened to me and stayed in the house or yard and not run off...if I'd called Sam to pick her up earlier like she wanted..." Daddy said.
"You can't do the 'what ifs', remember?" Grandpa John's voice was gentle. "Because you'll drive yourself crazy. And you especially can't do it after the fact. You can't know what might've happened. Charlie might have gotten taken anyway. We might not have figured out what was going on and been able to save the kids. You might not have gotten there in time and Charlie could have been-"
"Okay, stop," Daddy said strongly.
"My point is, Dean, that you've got to deal with the guilt and then let it go. You're allowing Charlie to get away with all kinds of behavior, and that's not good."
"And your insistence that we do it too is only making things worse," Uncle Sam said, "She now thinks she can run to you and hide behind you if I take her to task for something. And I told her, and you, that I'm not going to let her slack on school work, but that's exactly what's been happening."
"Sam, she still gets tired out easily-"
"No, she tells you that, because she knows you'll give her a break. She knows that you'll carry her and cut up her food. She knows that you're not going to enforce her doing her exercises, and that is not a good thing, man. That's only going to make her recovery harder and take longer. You remember what Dr. Miriam and Imani both said? She needs to be exercising every day, different muscle groups, and not slacking off. I can already see that she's taken a step backwards in what she can do physically. Do you want her to be an invalid for the rest of her life?" Sam asked.
"For crap's sake, of course I don't want that!"
"Then start enforcing things. Watch how she acts with you, what she says. You'll see that she's been playing you, Dean, and you've been letting it happen," Uncle Sam said.
"And I know you're worried about her, you're worried about her getting hurt again, and you want to protect her. But you've carried it to an extreme, and that's not good for her, or for anyone. She's a kid, she's going to get hurt, and there's nothing you can do about it. She's going to fall down sometimes and scrape her knee or bump her head, and she's going to have to deal with mean kids, and you can't protect her from everything. She's got to learn how to deal with things on her own and she's also got to face the consequences of her actions," Grandpa John's voice was calm.
"Oh, here we go," Daddy said.
"Dean, you can't keep letting her get away with things. You said before that she'd grown up without rules and consequences and that you recognized that she needed that to feel safe. She still needs that, from all of us, but mostly from you, and if she's not getting that I'm sure it's confusing as hell for her right now. And her behavior is bearing that out- she's getting worse, and you're not doing anything about it and you won't let anyone else either," Grandpa John said.
Uncle Sam added, "Imagine how she feels right now, she's back in the same place almost, that she was with her mom- a parent who won't enforce rules or boundaries, who allows her to get away with pretty much everything. And what's worse is that you weren't like that before and you've changed. I agree with Dad, she's probably pretty confused about things right now, and that's only going to make things worse. You've got to step it up and look at things, Dean, and start making her toe the line."
"Well, thank you both for your concern," Daddy said. "I'll take it under advisement."
I didn't really know what Daddy meant but it sounded like he wasn't going to do what Grandpa John and Uncle Sam said, which was good. I didn't think I needed anyone to make me toe any lines or anything like that, I was fine!
The next morning, they were busy with research. Uncle Sam left to go to the library, after setting me up at the desk, giving me and Daddy instructions on what school work he wanted me to do while he was gone.
Grandpa John was working on the lap top and Daddy was outside giving Baby's engine a tune-up. I had asked if I could help but he said he was going to be changing the oil and other fluids in the engine and he didn't want me around, because it was messy.
I did the work that Uncle Sam had given me, and by that time, it was time for lunch. Grandpa John had come into the kitchen and started cooking, and he called me over to the table.
"Sam wants you to do some writing practice before you eat," he told me, motioning to the table. There was the writing pad and a pencil on the table.
I sat down. "I don't want to practice writing right now, I wanted to watch t.v.! I'm s'posed to get a break at lunch time, ya know!"
"This is just a few lines, you're not going to be running a marathon," Grandpa John told me. "Sam left me these instructions, so you need to do this."
"But I'm tiiiired-"
He interrupted me. "That excuse is not gonna wash with me, kiddo. Come on, get started."
"This isn't fair! I don't want to do this! And I'm not gonna!" I snapped.
"Little girl, you need to adjust your attitude, or I will adjust it for you, over my knee," Grandpa John's voice got a little deeper, just like Daddy's did when he was getting angry. He frowned at me.
"I don't want to do this!" I repeated stubbornly.
"Well, it's what Sam wants you to do. So get it done."
I wrote the sentences out, quickly and sloppily, and then slammed the pencil down on the table.
"There, I'm done! Can I have lunch now?" I frowned.
He came over and picked up the pad and pencil and put them over on the small side counter, then brought over a bowl of mac and cheese. "Try this," he said.
It looked different than what I usually ate. "What is this?" I asked.
"It's home-made, you're supposed to bake it in the oven for a while too, but you said you were hungry."
I tried a bite of it. "It tastes different. I don't like it, I want the kind that I like!" I whined.
"This is what I made you for lunch, and you'll eat what I give you."
"But I don't liiiiike iiiit!" I whined.
"Charlie, you need to eat what's put in front of you," his voice was no-nonsense.
I threw the fork down on the table. "Well I'm not gonna!" I crossed my arms over my chest.
"Suit yourself," Grandpa John said, "I'm not running a diner here, I'm not making you multiple meals. Eat what's there, or wait until dinner."
I sat there and glared at him. He turned away after a moment and began to wipe the stove off. "Put your dish in the sink when you're finished eating," he told me.
I stood up suddenly, stomped over and threw my dish and silverware into the sink with a loud clatter. There was the tinkle of glass breaking.
"There, are you happy now, old man?" I snapped.
Grandpa John looked at me, his eyes darkening and his jaw tightening. He leaned over and peered into the sink.
"You just broke a glass," he said.
"Don't care," I turned to walk to the table.
"Well, I've had enough of this, and you're gonna care," he said, coming over to me.
Grandpa John put his hands on my waist and lifted me up, plunking me on the counter. He was so tall that I still wasn't eye-level with him.
He put a hand on either side of me, next to my legs, and leaned down so that he was looking eye to eye with me.
"You will not talk to me that way again, little girl," he said with a growl. "I never let my sons disrespect me and I'm not about to let my grand-daughter either."
I folded my arms. "Let me down!" I snapped, not dropping my eyes, even though he was glaring at me and my stomach was twisting a little nervously.
"Wrong answer," he said, and he picked me up again, but instead of putting me down, like I thought he would, he tucked me against his hip, and a second later I felt a sting on my bottom and heard the sound of a swat. It made me gasp, and I couldn't believe it, that Grandpa John was spanking me!
I tried to jerk my body out of his grasp, and yelled, "Hey, lemme go! You can't- can't do this to me!"
He wrapped his arm tighter around me and I felt another smack on my butt, and I yelped and grabbed the back of his shirt.
"I can, and I will," he growled again, "Your behavior is out of hand, and I'm not going to let it go any longer. You- will—mind—me—and-be-respectful-" he said, with a swat after each word.
I burst into tears at the first swat and kicked my feet, wailing as Grandpa John's hard hand spanked my butt a few more times.
He set me back on the counter and I winced when my stinging rear end met the hard formica.
"Now, are you done giving me lip, or do you need more?" he asked sternly, looking into my eyes again.
"I'm d-done, no m-more," I sobbed, putting my hands up to wipe my streaming eyes.
"Then come here," he said, and he lifted me up and pressed me to his shoulder, wrapping his arms around me tightly. "All right, shhh, little one, you're all right," he murmured.
I threw my arms around his neck and sobbed into his flannel shoulder, smelling his wood smoke smell. "Suh-sorry G-gran'pa-" I heaved, "M' not tryin' to b-be b-bad, m' sorry," and he shushed me, rubbing the back of my head.
"You're not bad, you've been allowed to get away with a lot of bad behavior recently," he said gently, "I know you can be a good girl, you just need a reminder to behave."
He walked over to the sofa and sat down with me in his lap. He rubbed my back as I snuggled into him, and I heard him humming tunelessly and felt it in his chest as I rested my head on his flannel. I remembered how scared I had been of Grandpa John when I had first met him, but now I felt safe and comforted by him.
The door opened and Daddy came in. "What's going on? What happened, did Charlie get hurt? Is she okay?"
"Her mouth got her into trouble," Grandpa John said.
"Dad, what th-" Daddy started.
Grandpa John interrupted him. "I'm not going to let anyone speak to me with disrespect, I never let you or your brother get away with that, and I'm not about to let your kid go that route either."
"Did you spank her?" Daddy asked angrily, "She's not-"
"Dean, she's not a fragile porcelain doll, she's not going to get broken!"
"I'm not happy about this," Daddy's voice was frustrated, "I said that I didn't want-"
"Listen to me. You've been letting things go too much, and your refusal to lay down the law with her is making things worse. Like I said I'm not going to let her speak to me with disrespect and today, I've had enough. If you're not going to do anything to curb her behavior and her mouth, then maybe someone else needs to." Grandpa John said firmly.
I turned my head and opened my eyes. Daddy was standing next to us, and he leaned down to pick me up. "Come here, baby," he said. He was wiping his hands on a rag.
I tightened my arms around Grandpa John's chest. "No, wanna stay here," I murmured.
"You sure?" Daddy asked.
"Yeah," I said, and I felt and heard Grandpa John chuckle.
Daddy sighed, and then he turned and walked back outside.
I snuggled into Grandpa John more and said, "I love you, Gran'pa John."
He gave another little chuckle and said, "I love you too, little one." He rubbed my back in slow, soothing strokes, up and down, until I was dozing in his lap.