Daniel didn't just spank me. Every few swats he would stop, and lecture me. The first time he stopped, I was limp with
relief, thinking it was done and over. But no. He said more about how I needed to take responsibility and admit that what I'd
done had been running away, plain and simple. Then he went back to paddling my backside.
In all my growing up years, Daniel had given me, at most, a couple of smacks when he was annoyed, and wanted to
make a point with me. It seemed to me now that he'd been 'saving up' huge amounts of aggravation and was letting it all free.
I put back a hand to protect my rear, but all that accomplished was for him to capture my wrist and hold it behind my back.
"I understand!" I hollered.
"You understand what?" he asked me, pausing to listen to me.
I tried to catch my breath. "I-understand that it was-running away! It was wrong and stupid!"
"Uh huh," he said, sounding unconvinced. "What else?"
My hair was coming loose from my ponytail band, with all the thrashing around I was doing. I pushed it out of my face, and then had
to put my hand back on Daniel's lower leg to steady myself.
"I understand!" I said again. "Please! I get it! Can't we talk?"
"We'll talk," he said. "When we're done here." And then he started in blistering me again.
"It was selfish! I was only thinking about myself!" I hollered. I was feeling hysterical, thinking he was never going to stop.
He stopped then, and waited, while I tried to get myself under some sort of control.
"You need to recognize what hurt you've caused, Harlie," Daniel said, in a quiet voice.
"Yes," I managed, my breathing still ragged.
"Alright. I'm gonna let you up, but you're not off the hook. We're gonna talk, long and hard, and I better see some
regret and responsibility from you, or you'll be right back here. Understand?"
"Yes," I said again, and he sat me back up, next to him on the couch, and I swiped at my wet
face. Daniel stood up, long enough to grab a box of Kleenex from the coffee table, and then he sat back down, holding
the box out to me without saying anything.
I took a handful of tissues, and he set the box down on the other end of the couch. Then he just leaned back against the back of the couch,
and sat there, watching me, but still not saying anything.
I mopped at my face with the Kleenex, and kept my face turned from his. I was feeling so many things right then. One huge thing being
embarrassment.
"Can I go wash my face?" I asked him, in a really low voice.
I think Daniel knew that 'wash my face' was really a roundabout way of saying 'getting myself together'.
But he said, "Yeah. Go on."
I got up and practically ran down the hallway to the small bathroom.
I closed the door, and turned on the water. Mostly to cover up the sound of my crying. He didn't need to know just
how much pain I was in, I thought righteously. Then I realized just how dumb that really was. After all, he'd been the one
that had done the applying of what seemed like a hundred swats to my butt. He would know exactly how much I was hurting.
I cried for another five minutes, according to the small clock on the wall. Then I started dabbing cold water onto my face, and then
patted it dry with the towel from the towel rack. When I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror over the sink, I thought that I'd never
looked so horrible. I looked as though I'd gone three rounds with Mike Tyson.
I'd been ten minutes by now, and I took a deep breath, trying to gather my courage. I opened the door and went back down the hallway.
I went slowly, but I went. Daniel was sitting on the couch, in the same spot and I sat down again, next to him, trying not to wince as I did so.
I gave him a wary glance.
"I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but I really do love ya," Daniel said, sort of quietly.
"If I didn't care, I wouldn't be so darn hard on you," he went on. "I'm tryin' to make you realize some things."
"I know," I managed to say.
"It's okay if you wanna be mad at me about it for awhile," he said, quietly.
This was the nicest he'd talked to me since I'd gotten here. For a minute I wasn't sure what to think.
"Did you talk to Evan last night?" he asked me then.
I nodded, still not looking directly at him.
"How'd that go?" he asked.
"He didn't want to talk to me," I admitted.
"Yeah," he said, not sounding surprised.
For a moment I thought I might have heard a touch of sympathy in his voice. I twisted to look at him more closely.
"He doesn't want anything to do with me," I said, tears welling in my eyes again.
"Ah, that's not true," he denied.
"He said so," I sniffled.
"He used those words?" Daniel specified.
I thought for a minute, trying to remember the exact wording that Evan had used. "He said that he was my brother, but
that as far as anything else, to just forget about it."
"Hmmm," Daniel said, looking serious. "Well, part of this whole mess, a big part of it, is going to be the hard work it takes you to make things right with the family,"
"How can I show it, though?" I asked him.
"You're gonna have to figure it out. It's not somethin' that's gonna happen in just a day or two," he told me.
"What did Adam say?" I asked tremulously, not certain that I wanted to hear the answer.
"He's upset." Daniel gave me a steady look. "He's real hurt."
"You mean he's angry?" I said.
"He is. But mostly, he's hurt."
I felt as though my chest was tightening. At my puzzled look, Daniel went on, "He feels as though he let you down."
"He didn't," I protested.
"Well, that's how he feels. That he wasn't there for you enough to help you work thru everything, with the whole Karissa
thing."
"He did his best," I said, loyally. "Brian, too. They all did their best. They just didn't know what to say."
Daniel reached over and captured one of my curls, and ran it between his fingers. It was a sweet, brotherly gesture, and one
that bespoke of the way that he and I usually interacted. I caught my breath at his gentleness, and met his eyes, full on.
"I'm sorry for scaring you," I said, and I meant it. "Just calling and springing it on you that I was here like I did."
There was a glimmer of a smile at the corner of Daniel's mouth.
"Yeah. From the time you told me you were in town, until I saw you in the bus station, it took ten years off my life, I think," he said.
"Sorry," I said again, and looked at him, my eyes saying what I didn't feel that I could. I hoped he could read the trueness
of my words in my eyes.
Daniel sighed then, and put his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer, until I was tight against his side.
"Those ten years?" he said then, "That's ten years I can't spare."
I pressed my face into his shoulder, and he wrapped his other arm around me, too.
And then I began to cry again. But this was a different sort of crying. The fight and anger were gone from me. Even the embarrassment
at him spanking me like he had faded away, just a little. It just felt so darn good to have him hugging me. This crying was sort of a relief. I think some
of it was even about missing Doc G, still. And all the uncertainty about Karissa. The regrets and the worry.
Daniel tightened his arms around me, and just held me while I cried. He was quiet, not telling me to stop, or anything like that.
Finally, I was spent. Worn out, almost. And all done crying. At least for the moment. I had a feeling I'd be crying a lot as I tried to
talk to my other brothers.
We were both quiet then, for awhile, just sitting there.
"I was feeling overwhelmed," I confided, into that silence.
"It's been a lot for you to deal with," Daniel said.
"I tried to talk to Karissa," I told him. "Did you know that?"
"No. I didn't."
"It was a mistake. I've made a lot of mistakes lately," I said, with regret.
Daniel didn't deny that. "Admitting that's the first step," he told me.
7
After that, Daniel said we'd talk more later. "We'll be doin' a lot of talking in the next few days," he added.
"Okay," I said, not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
We went to the kitchen together, and I did up the breakfast dishes while he started making bacon and tomato sandwiches for lunch.
Red came home, and hesitated at the kitchen doorway. "Is it safe to come in?" he asked, with a wink at me.
I turned red in the face, wondering if he knew about the spanking.
"All clear," Daniel said, as he flipped the strips of bacon in the skillet.
We sat down to lunch, and then Daniel said that after they ate, they were going to rehearsal at the club, to prepare for that
night's show.
I wanted to go. I mean, I desparately wanted to go. But I figured there was no use in asking. Even though Daniel and I had
ended up on a more understanding, amicable note earlier, I still knew better than to ask for any privileges. I didn't figure that he'd
say I could go,
So I sat quiet, eating my lunch, and then clearing the table, as they discussed the set list for that night.
"You comin' with, my darlin'?" Red asked me, as he got to his feet, and pulled on his jacket.
I turned from stacking the dishes on the counter to look towards him, and then at Daniel, who was pulling on his own jacket.
"I don't know," I said, waiting to see what Daniel would say.
"You can come," he said.
So I tagged along, to the club, where I sat at a front table, drinking ginger ale and watching the band rehearse. One of the other guys
in the band, who Daniel introduced as Jed, played drums, and he looked as though he was in his early twenties or so.
He was a flirt, too, and though I saw him flirting with the waitresses and servers, he also flirted with me.
"Whoo whee, Daniel," he said, in a thick Southern drawl, and smiling at me, "Is this how they grow the girls in
California? Because, dang, I think I might move there!"
I smiled at his effusive flattery, knowing he was teasing. Daniel growled a little, in warning, but I could tell he was joking
right back.
"Hands off, Jed," he said. "Little sisters are off limits."
In return Jed just laughed. I drank my ginger ale, and listened to them rehearse. I was sorry when we were done, and headed
back to the little house.
When Daniel checked the answering machine messages, there was one from home. Brian.
His voice sounded a little stilted, forced. "Hey there, Dan'l," he said. "Just checking in. Tell Harlie I'd like to talk
to her."
I bit my lip, listening to his voice. Daniel turned and looked at me.
He didn't say anything, though, and I was glad. The three of us played a game of cards, and then they both settled down in the
living room, with Red reading, and Daniel scribbling on a notepad.
I asked them what they were going to eat for supper, and Daniel said, "Sandwiches," without looking up from his writing. I went to the
kitchen, rooting thru the refrigerator freezer. I found a package of pork chops, and took them out, defrosting them in the microwave.
I fried the pork chops, and made rice to go with it, and then a tossed salad, with onions and tomatoes in it. I made some sweet tea, and
set the table. When I went back into the living room, Red looked up and sniffed in appreciation.
"Something's sure smelling good in there," he said.
Supper's ready whenever you guys are," I told them.
They wasted no time in getting to the table, and they both ate heartily, taking seconds of everything.
Red raved about my cooking, saying, "First decent meal I've had since I last ate Hannah's cooking," he said.
A comment which had Daniel responding jokingly with, "You don't like my cooking, old man, you don't have to eat it."
"I could make some brownies, or lemon bars, or something," I said. "If you've got all the ingredients."
"I doubt we do," Daniel said. "Write it on the list on the refrigerator if you want somethin' from the store."
Talking about lemon bars made me think of Ford. I was struck with a bolt of longing for him.
"Can I use the phone later?" I asked Daniel, as I started washing the dishes.
"Yep. Anytime you want to call home, you can. You don't have to ask," he said, sounding glad.
"It's actually Ford I was thinking of calling," I told him.
"Hmm," he said. "Well, sure, you can call him." After a moment he added, "What about Brian? You plan on calling him back?"
"I'm scared," I admitted.
"Yeah," Daniel said.
Before he left the kitchen to go change into his clothes for work that night, he said quietly, "You can't hide forever, you know."
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Greeting to reviewers!
I want to thank everyone for the reviews. I am so glad that the story is being enjoyed. A few thoughts of mine about some of the reviews are: I myself
just can't see any of the guys using a belt or anything like that on Harlie. It just seems too much, you know? I agree with the reviewers who suggest
that this is very hard for Daniel, and I will address this in the next couple of chapters or so. One review suggested that it should not have been Daniel who
took Harlie in hand like this, but that he should have waited for Adam to deal with her. I don't agree with that because that is sort of like the old way some
moms used to say 'wait until your father gets home' to their kids. Daniel is eight years older than Harlie, and it wouldn't have been responsible of him
to play the 'fun' brother only. Again, thanks everybody! Long live the McFaddens!
