AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey all! Sorry it's taken me so long to update, I've been busy with medical stuff, appointments and tests for me and one of my kids- we both have chronic health issues, and sometimes all the specialist appointments seem to fall in the same week!
So, this chapter went in a slightly different direction than I was originally planning...and then it veered off into a different place! But then, we know that my muse like to do that! Content warning for some feels- hope you enjoy!
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I woke up the next morning in Daddy's bed. I remembered that I had had bad dreams, and woken up crying in the middle of the night, and that my head had been hurting. Daddy had given me medicine and then brought me into his room to sleep. I couldn't remember what the dreams had been about, and my head only hurt a little bit.
I sat up and stretched, and Daddy opened his eyes and rolled over. "Good morning, Elsa," he grinned at me.
"What d'you mean?" I asked groggily.
"You kept singing 'Let it Go' last night, do you remember?" He sat up and scratched his head.
"Oh...yeah..." I remembered bits and pieces of last night, jumping on the sofa with Addi, being in the basement and Cara eating the lipstick, watching "Frozen" and everyone singing along, going upstairs to find more food-
"Uh, Daddy...am I in trouble?" I asked hesitantly.
"No, why?" he looked at me.
" 'Cause you said—you said I wasn't ever allowed to, y'know, drink... alcohol, and last night-" I scrunched the blanket together in my hands.
"No, you're not in trouble," Daddy ruffled my hair, "Your friend shouldn't have given you that Jell-o, but that's on her for not listening to her mom."
"Addi and Aubrey don't listen to their mom very much," I said.
"I noticed," Daddy replied dryly.
"They don't really get in trouble either."
"Well, that's not a good thing. If a person does something wrong, they should be held accountable for it. That's the way it is when you're an adult, and that's the way it should be when you're a kid too. Those girls will be in for a rude awakening when they get older and get into trouble," Daddy looked at me, "How's your head? Do you still have a headache?"
"Only a little bit," I said.
"We'll get you some more medicine with breakfast. Let's go eat."
I jumped off the bed, remembering that it had been snowing last night when we had walked home. "Ooh, we can see how much it snowed!"
I ran downstairs and opened the front door. To my disappointment, there was only about an inch of snow on the ground.
"I wanted to make a snowman!" I grumped, "And go sledding!"
Uncle Sam came into the living room. "Hopefully we'll get a bigger snow later in the month. It's still winter, you know."
After we ate breakfast, I could hear kids outside yelling in the street. I looked out the front door again, and there were several kids running around throwing snow at each other. A couple of them had sleds and were pulling kids in the road.
I saw Addison go running by, and she stopped and waved at me.
"Daddy, can I go outside and play too?" I asked.
"All right. I don't want you in the street, though," he said.
I ran and got dressed, putting my long johns on underneath my clothes, and two pairs of socks. I threw on my coat and hat, and then joined the others outside.
I ran over to Addison, who was with Aubrey and a couple of other girls.
"Girls against boys!" one of the other girls said. I recognized her from last night, she had been one of the ones putting on make-up.
We grabbed handfuls of snow and threw them at the boys that were running around. The snow didn't pack into snowballs well, so we had to just keep throwing clumps of it.
Suddenly one of the boys came running over, grabbed one of the older girls, and kissed her on the lips.
"EWWW!" Addison and I screamed.
Aubrey and her friends were giggling. "Oh my gosh, he likes her!" one of them screeched.
Addison rolled her eyes at me. "Boys are gross," she said, "All they want to do is kiss an' hug an' stuff."
The older girls huddled together to talk, and Addison and I flopped on our backs and made snow angels, and then ate some snow.
Addison's mother called for them.
"C'mon, Addi!" Aubrey said excitedly.
"We get to go to Palettes!" Addison told me.
"What's that?" I asked.
"It's a store that sells fancy make-up, Mom said she'd take us there and buy us some stuff! See ya!" Addison ran up the sidewalk behind her sister.
I went inside, because I didn't know any of the other kids.
Grandpa John was sitting on the sofa. "Look at those rosy cheeks," he smiled at me.
"Can I have some hot chocolate?" I asked.
"I don't think we have any," Daddy said.
"Can I have coffee?" I asked hopefully.
"No, Charlie."
"Aww, no fair!" I complained.
"Get changed out of your wet clothes, put them in the bathtub," Daddy told me, "I'll see what we have."
He made me some soup, and I ate that to help me warm up.
"When you get finished with that, we're going to go to the store," Daddy said, "You're going to come with us, because Grandpa John is going over to Bobby's."
"Can I get some nail polish?" I asked, "Pleeease?"
"I guess so," Daddy looked at Uncle Sam and shrugged.
"Can... I get some lipstick and blush too?"
Daddy looked uncomfortable. "No, Charlie. You can put some on sometimes when you go to a friend's house, but I don't want you buying any or wearing it on a regular basis."
"But whyyyyy?" I whined.
"Because you're too young to be wearing make-up," Daddy glanced at Uncle Sam, who nodded in agreement.
"I am not!" I huffed.
"Yeah, you are, and don't argue with me about it any more," Daddy pulled on a strand of my hair.
Grandpa John and Daddy went outside to clear the snow off of their cars, and then we left at the same time.
Daddy pushed the shopping cart, and I walked next to Uncle Sam.
"Can I get some Lucky Charms? Or Coco Puffs?" I asked as we passed the cereal aisle.
"No, Charlie, those aren't healthy," Uncle Sam replied.
"Can I get some Pop-tarts?" I asked, looking up at Daddy with puppy-dog eyes.
He chuckled, but Uncle Sam said, "No, Charlie, those are even worse than sugary cereal."
I stopped walking and stomped my foot. "You're not letting me get anything good!" I snapped.
Daddy stopped pushing the cart and turned to me. "Come on, kiddo, we'll find something else you can pick out."
Uncle Sam let me pick out granola bars and bottles of yogurt smoothies.
As we stood in line to check out, I looked over the racks of candy that were at the end of each aisle.
I leaned on Daddy and grabbed his arm. "Can I get some chocolate? Or some gummy bears? Pleeeeease?"
"Uhh- no, Charlie, not right now."
"Come on, please?" I looked up at him and pulled on his arm.
"Charlie, stop that! I said no," Daddy said sharply.
I let go of him and pouted. It wasn't fair that I couldn't get what I wanted, I had to pick only the things that Uncle Sam said I could!
"How about you take Charlie next door to buy some nail polish, while I pay for this? After I get the car loaded up, I'll come find you," Daddy said to Uncle Sam.
"Sounds like a plan," Uncle Sam agreed, holding his hand out to me, "Come on, Charlie."
We walked two doors down, to a pharmacy. They also sold things like shampoo, soap, make-up, and nail polish. Uncle Sam followed me as I skipped over to the "Beauty Products" aisle.
I looked around for a couple of minutes, and then I showed Uncle Sam the bottles of polish I had picked- a light pink, a shiny blue, and a bright purple.
"Wow, those are...something," he said with a smile, "I didn't know they made nail polish in blue and all that."
"Yeah, they have all the colors!" I exclaimed.
"Are you ready to go?" he asked.
"Well...wait. Can I..." I walked over to a rack of make-up and pulled a tube of dark red lipstick off of a shelf.
"Can I get this?" I asked, hoping that my puppy-dog eyes worked.
Uncle Sam shook his head. "No, Charlie, no make-up, remember?"
"Okay..." I sighed, and put the lipstick back.
As we walked up the aisle I saw a different color. "Wait, look!" I showed him the tube, "This is pink! Can I get this one?"
Now Uncle Sam looked uncomfortable. "No, Charlie, no lipstick. Okay, look, if you want to get a tube of lip balm, you can."
"But it's pink, it's—it's natural looking, not like that dark red!"
"No, Charlie. Lip balm or nothing."
"That's not fair!" I stomped my foot and glared up at him, feeling annoyed. "Aubrey and Addison get to wear makeup, and their mom even lets Aubrey wear it to school!"
"No, Charlie, we already talked about this. You're too young."
"Addi's the same age as me and she gets to wear makeup!" I said loudly, stomping my foot again. I got mad. This wasn't fair! "I—I 'm not a baby ya know! I can wear some make-up!"
"Charlotte Anne. I said no. Do you want to put the nail polish away, and just leave?" Uncle Sam asked sternly.
"No! No fair! You're mean!" I yelled, "You never let me do anything!"
I threw the bottles of nail polish down on the floor and they clattered together as they fell. One of them rolled over to the side, underneath the shelf. Another bottle rolled down the aisle.
"All right, young lady, that's enough," Uncle Sam said tightly. He reached for me, and I threw myself down on the floor.
"Get off!" I yelled, kicking my feet and scooting away from him as he leaned down.
"What the hell-?" Daddy was walking up the aisle towards us, and he looked mad!
"Uncle Sam's being mean! Alls I want is a pink lipstick like Addi has!" I yelled, hitting the floor with my fists.
"Did you really just throw those bottles of nail polish?" Daddy asked, "Charlie, get up right now."
I crossed my arms over my chest and huffed at him, kicking my feet.
Daddy squatted down in front of me. "Charlotte Anne. You have about three seconds to stop having a tantrum and get up off the floor. If I have to pick you up off the floor, you're going to be in more trouble than you already are," his voice was deep and serious.
"Go away!" I snapped, turning away from him.
Daddy stood up. "All right," he sighed, and then reached down to pick me up. I started to kick and wiggle in his arms.
"No! No fair! Lemme go!" I hollered, as Daddy carried me out of the store.
"My goodness, what a lot of racket!" an old lady said disapprovingly as we walked outside.
"Sam, get the back door," Daddy gritted out as he hurried up to the car.
"You're mean! Uncle Sam is mean! You never let me do what I want!" I hollered as Uncle Sam unlocked the doors and opened the back door.
"Oh, we're back to that again?" Daddy said as he leaned down. He set me on the back seat of the car, and then he flipped me over and pushed me down onto my tummy, so that I was laying at the edge of the seat. My feet were hanging out of the car, and he put his hand on my back and held me there, and then he smacked my butt a couple times.
"Owww!" I shrieked, kicking my feet.
He let me up, and grabbed me, setting me on the seat hard. "Get buckled, and I don't want to hear another word from you until we get home," he said angrily.
He shut the door, and then he and Uncle Sam got into the car. I crossed my arms and didn't move.
Daddy started the car. Uncle Sam glanced back at me. "Wait, Dean," he said, "She's not buckled."
Daddy said, "Little girl, get buckled NOW," over his shoulder.
I sat still.
"You have to the count of three," Daddy said, and his voice was deeper. "One...two...three...god-dammit," he muttered.
"I'll get her," Uncle Sam said quietly. He got out of the front, and opened the back door, sliding in next to me.
In the next second, he had pulled me down over his lap, and his hand was falling on my bottom, hard, quick spanks.
I howled, and tried to kick my feet again. My butt was stinging now.
Uncle Sam stopped spanking. "Are you going to put your seatbelt on?" he asked sternly. He waited a moment. "If I have to buckle you, you're getting a spanking from me after your dad deals with you. I've had enough."
"Okaaay," I whined. He smacked my rear end one last time, and then sat me up and watched me buckle the seat belt on.
He climbed out of the back and got into the front, and Daddy pulled out of the parking space.
It was tense and quiet in the car on the ride home. I unbuckled and got out of the car quickly, and Daddy grabbed my arm and turned me to face him.
"What?" I snapped.
"Get inside and find a corner," he said sternly.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I want you standing in the corner while we're unloading the groceries. Find a corner and put your nose in it, and think about your behavior."
I huffed, stomping up the porch stairs and into the living room. Uncle Sam was coming behind me, his hands full of plastic shopping bags. I started to walk towards the stairs, to run to my room, and he said, "Hold it, young lady. What did your Dad tell you to do?"
Daddy walked in with plastic bags dangling from his hands. "Charlie! I told you to get in the corner! Now get—your ass—in the CORNER!" he yelled the last part, and he looked really mad.
I hurried over to the corner of the living room and stood there facing the wall.
I heard the door opening and closing and more footsteps, then I heard the crackling of plastic bags. Finally the door closed one last time, and I heard quiet talking in the kitchen.
It seemed like I was there in the corner for hours. I had calmed down and didn't feel angry any more. I just wanted to be out of the corner and go be by myself in my room.
"Charlotte Anne," Daddy said in a hard voice, "Come here."
I turned around, and walked over to him. He was standing by the sofa, and he nodded at it. "Sit down."
I sat down and put my hands between my knees, looking up at him.
"I'm very upset by your behavior in the store, little girl," he said, and his voice was that deeper pitch that meant he was still angry, "I can't believe that you actually threw a tantrum like that, just because Uncle Sam wouldn't let you buy a lipstick. After we'd just had a discussion about you being too young to wear make-up!"
"But—it's not faaaaaiiir!" I whined.
"What's not fair?" Daddy frowned.
"Every—everyone else gets to wear some, except me! You—you treat me like I'm a baby!"
"Everyone?" Daddy scoffed, "I don't think so. Your little friends Aubrey and Addison do, but their parents don't exactly have the best judgement about things."
I didn't understand what he meant, and I frowned. "You're just bein' mean to me!"
Daddy shook his head. "I am being your parent, little girl. And if that makes me mean, then that's the way it is."
I stood up. "Fine!" I turned to stomp upstairs.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"I'm goin' to my room, so I can be away from you!" I huffed.
"I don't think so. You're in trouble for that tantrum."
"But—that's not fair either!" I exclaimed.
Daddy sighed and rolled his eyes. "And why isn't it?"
"Be—because Cara didn't get in trouble when she threw a tantrum! Her Mommy didn't even get mad at her!"
"Cara is a three year old who has no impulse control. Throwing tantrums is part of what toddlers do. You, on the other hand, are 8 years old, and throwing a tantrum like you did is just manipulation to get what you want. I expect better behavior from you, Charlie." Daddy crossed his arms and looked sternly at me.
I clenched my fists, getting angry again. I wasn't sure what he was saying, but it didn't sound very fair to me at all. "That—that-"
"You want to wear make-up like a big kid, but then when you're told no, you sit on the floor and kick and yell like a three-year-old? Those two things don't fit together."
"I—you—that's-arrgh!" I surged forward, and shoved at Daddy, anger over-taking me.
He stepped backwards, and grabbed at me. "Hey! Don't you push me!"
I remembered what the older girl had said last night about her father. "You—you-you're just a big dumb old stupidhead!" I shouted, pushing at him again.
"All right, that's—IT," Daddy gritted out, and he took my arms and pulled me towards the sofa.
He sat down, pulling me over his knees, and began to spank me. I was still angry, and I kicked and struggled and yelled.
"Settle down!" he hollered. He pinned my legs under his, and I balled my hands into fists and drummed them on the side of his thigh.
"Oh no you don't, little girl," his voice was hard, and he grabbed my hands and pulled them behind me, holding them against my lower back.
He started to spank me again, his hand falling faster, and harder, this time. I shrieked in anger, still trying to kick.
"You—will—not-throw-tantrums-and-you-will-NOT- call- me—names-" he ground out as he spanked me.
And then his hand was peppering the lowest part of my butt, and it stung a lot, and I burst into tears. I stopped fighting and just cried as Daddy kept spanking me.
My bottom was stinging and throbbing when he let me up and pulled me to a standing position in front of him. "What do you have to say to me?" he demanded.
"I—I'm suh-sorry," I sobbed out, "M' sorry I was b-bad an' had a ta-tantrum an' yelled an' cal—called you n-names."
"All right, come here," he picked me up to sit on his lap, putting his arms around me, and I grabbed onto his flannel and held on, sobbing into his chest. I didn't really know what had made me feel so angry.
My head had started to hurt again. I whimpered as Daddy shifted me.
"What is it, baby?" he asked gently.
"My—head—hurts," I whined.
"I think you're out of sorts today because of last night," he said, "Hey Sam, c'mere!" he called.
Uncle Sam appeared in the doorway. "Yeah?"
"Could you bring Charlie some ibuprofen?" Daddy asked him.
"Sure," Uncle Sam went back into the kitchen.
"What d'you mean, out of sorts?" I asked, sniffling.
"Sometimes when a person has had some alcohol, it makes them...not feel good the next morning. I'm wondering if that's part of why you're in a mood."
Uncle Sam walked over to us and handed me a small plastic medicine cup. I drank the liquid from it, and then he handed me a glass of water.
"Drink as much as you can," he said, and I drank half of it down.
"Now, I want you to lay down and rest for a while," Daddy told me, "You don't have to sleep, but just lay quietly in bed. You were up really late last night, too."
He carried me up to my room, and laid me down in bed.
"Daddy, it's January now," I said quietly.
"Yeah, it is," he pulled the covers up to my chest, "it's a new year."
"My, um...my birthday is, y'know, coming up soon."
"Oh, it is? When is it?" he asked.
"January 27th."
"Oh!" he was surprised, "Mine is the 24th!"
"It is?" I was surprised too.
"Yeah, I remember now, your mom told me when your birthday was, but I didn't really think about it at the time," he smiled at me, "We have the same birthday month!"
I felt shy. "Can...can we...I mean, we don't have to, if-"
"What, Charlie?" Daddy took my hand.
"Can we, um, do something...I mean, celebrate...y'know, my, my...birthday?" I blushed, feeling embarrassed.
"Of course we can, honey," Daddy squeezed my hand, "Why are you acting so...shy about it?"
"'Cause before, my mom—she was sick, when it was my birthday an' all, and I didn't get—I mean, she couldn't do anything 'cause she hadda go back an' forth to the treatment center for a while, an' we didn't—we couldn't-" I felt a lump in my throat.
"You didn't celebrate your birthday?" Daddy asked quietly.
I nodded, tears coming to my eyes. "But it's—it's okay, ya know, I mean, my mommy was real sick an' all-" I gulped, trying not to feel upset. I had felt angry when I had realized that there were no plans for my birthday, but then I had gotten upset with myself, because my mommy was so sick, and she needed me to take care of her.
"No, it's not okay...I mean, I know your mom was sick, but still...it was a crappy situation, Charlie, and I'm sorry you had to deal with that," Daddy said.
"No, it- I hadda take care of Mommy, that's what mattered!" I sat up, and then I burst into tears.
"Shh..." Daddy pulled me into his arms and held me tightly, rocking me back and forth slightly. "It's all right, sweetheart. We'll do something for your birthday this year, I promise...we'll figure it out, okay? You think about what you'd like to do, and let me know. All right?" he smoothed my hair back from my face.
"'Kay, Daddy," I sniffled.
"Lay down," he let me go, and I laid down and rolled onto my side.
Daddy sat with me, holding my hand and stroking my hair back from my face, until I fell asleep.
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I stood at the bathroom door, watching Daddy shave his face with the electric razor. My tummy felt all jumbled up with nervous knots.
"How long will you be?" I asked.
"Oh, I don't know," he said casually.
"How far away is it? Does it take a long time to get there?"
"No, it's a couple miles out of town," Daddy turned off the razor and set it on the edge of the sink.
"What time will you be back?" I asked worriedly.
He looked at me. "Charlie, what is with the twenty questions? We're just going out to have a couple beers and play some pool, that's it."
"I—I'm nervous," I admitted, "What if something bad happens?"
"Nothing bad is going to happen, okay? Uncle Sam and me will stick together, and my co-workers are good guys. This place we're going to is nice, it's not a dive or anything."
"What's a dive?" I looked up at him.
He shrugged. "Oh, it's...it's a bar that isn't that nice."
"Have you gone to a dive before?"
He grimaced. "Well...ye—Charlie, I don't really want to talk about that with you. Look, it'll be all right, you'll see. You go out with Grandpa John and have fun, and don't worry about us. I've got to go change."
He left the bathroom, and walked into his room and closed his door.
Daddy and Uncle Sam were going out to a bar tonight, to meet some of Daddy's co-workers and play pool. He and Uncle Sam hadn't gone out like this in a long time, and it made me think about before, when they were going on dates, and all the stuff that had happened.
Plus I just wasn't used to them going out, all of us had spent so much time together recently that it seemed odd that they were leaving me.
Grandpa John was going to take me out to a restaurant to eat, and he had promised me that we could get ice cream afterwards. I was excited when he first told me about it, but now all the worry I was feeling was bigger than my excitement.