Chapter 3: The Trouble Ends
The car ride home was silent, mother and daughter each lost in their own tangle of thoughts. Quinn's guilt was consuming her, making her insides writhe like a horde of angry snakes. Shelby, for her part, could focus on nothing else besides that old wooden spoon tucked amongst the take-away containers—a viper lurking just out of sight. It was a relief to them both when they parked inside the garage.
Shelby expelled a tired sigh, eyes flicking over to the teenager beside her. She could see how tense the child was and reached out to pat the girl's knee. Quinn startled and met Shelby's gaze with a wet one of her own.
"C'mon, honey. Let's go inside and get this done," Shelby said with more confidence than she felt. Quinn gave her a shaky nod, and then two car doors opened.
Quinn's heart was hammering inside of her chest as she followed her mother into their house. There was some shuffling as bags were set down and shoes and coats removed, and then it was back to trailing after as they made their way upstairs. Shelby flicked on the lights as they went, setting the carry-out bag on the kitchen island. Quinn's bookbag landed with a thud in its usual spot by the stairs, and Quinn stood next to it, uncertain.
"Why don't you head upstairs and change into some pajamas? I'm going to put the leftovers away and go change myself. Come to my room when you're done," Shelby directed. Then thinking for a moment, she added, "Wear something other than your thick sweats tonight, please."
Quinn hesitated, chewing at her bottom lip. There were questions she wanted to ask, ones that had been nagging her the entire ride home. She opened her mouth…and then closed it. She swallowed thickly. "Y–Yes, ma'am," she whispered before fleeing up the stairs.
Shelby sighed as she watched her go, a million thoughts buzzing in her mind. She just wanted this whole mess to be over with—couldn't they skip ahead?!
Quinn couldn't help wondering what was in store for her as she changed out of her Cheerios uniform. She'd experienced only two spankings from Shelby, each vastly different. What would this one bring?
If she had to guess, she'd say it'd probably be more like her first spanking—the one she'd gotten for running away at Christmas. It had been dealt with immediately upon returning home. Quinn had been told to change and then go to Shelby's room to wait. The wait had felt endless…but looking back, Quinn couldn't imagine it had been more than ten minutes. And when Shelby had entered the room, she'd wasted very little time in bringing Quinn over to the side of the bed with her.
The spanking had been given in layers that time, first over the thick sweatpants Quinn had chosen (the same ones Mama had told her not to put on tonight), then her underwear, and finally, bare. Quinn had cried, but not fully—not until the end when she'd begged Shelby to stop because she was going to cry and she wanted to be good for her. Shelby had stopped immediately, shocking Quinn, and then the girl was lifted. Quinn could still recall the fiercely loving look Shelby had given her. But it was the 'You are good, Quinnie' that Shelby had uttered that finally pushed Quinn over the edge. Quinn still didn't know how long she'd cried from that.
Her second spanking, earned only ten days after that first one, had been less intense. It came as a result of the less-than-kind phrase she'd said to Zayde after Shelby had dropped her off with the man to go speak to Rachel and her fathers following the school incident that had gotten both girls sent home early. Shelby had promised Quinn a bedtime spanking if she gave Zayde any trouble. The woman had been true to her word.
The worst part of that one had been the wait. Quinn had focused on the 'spanking' portion of that promise, all-but forgetting the 'bedtime' bit, so she'd spent the entire afternoon and evening expecting it to happen at any minute. As the evening went on and Shelby continued to act normal, Quinn had actually convinced herself that it wasn't going to happen. Only to be shocked and outraged when Shelby finally sent her upstairs.
The spanking itself had been quick. Quinn had been thrown off-balance as her mother lowered her thick sweats (Quinn had hoped she'd get lucky a second time) before taking Quinn over her knee. The girl's panties came next and Quinn had squawked. Shelby simply told her it wouldn't be a long lesson and intended for Quinn to feel it. And boy, did she! Again, Quinn tried not to cry, having grown up being told crying was a show of weakness. She'd begged again for her mother to stop and promised she would be good. Shelby didn't remark on the 'good' comment this time. She'd only told Quinn that they weren't finished but to go ahead and cry if she wanted—it was okay to cry. And Quinn did, in the end.
Her tears hadn't lasted long (and neither did the sting from her mother's hand). Shelby held her and then Quinn was being helped into bed—earlier than her early bedtime, a fact that Quinn still grumbled about.
So yes, it seemed likely today's would be like the first. But Quinn couldn't help but worry—would her mama make her go to bed right after it? It was early, somewhere around 7:30 or so. But Shelby's words from that second spanking echoed in her mind now: 'Consider this part of what happens with a bedtime spanking'.
Did tonight's count as a bedtime spanking? Shelby had told her to come upstairs and change into pajamas. She hadn't said 'comfy clothes'. Did the distinction matter? After all, the woman used both and they meant the same thing—clothing that was comfortable and can be slept in. It was just that, usually, Shelby said 'pajamas' when it was bedtime and 'comfy clothes' when it was time for lazing around.
Quinn shook her head. There wasn't time for this. She'd been standing in her bra and panties, just staring off into space for several minutes. She didn't need to make her mama upset by taking too long to join her.
The girl's worries followed her over to her closet. Stripping out of the last of her clothes, she tossed all of them into the hamper inside. She then opened her underwear drawer and pulled out a clean pair. These had little black Scottie dogs with red sweaters printed on them. She chose a t-shirt next, this one an 80s-style Madonna concert tee she'd gotten from Target. And finally, sleep pants. She bypassed the ones not allowed in favor of a nice, normal, approved pair of regular sweats. They were boring, a plain light-gray with elastic around the legs. Quinn liked them—they were comfy.
It was unusual for Shelby to be the one left to wait in her room for these sorts of conversations. It made her feel like a teenager again, and the one in trouble. The butterflies in her stomach certainly reminded her of her own punishments growing up.
On the other hand, having to wait meant that Shelby had everything in order before Quinn showed up. The spoon was tucked on her nightstand behind her lamp for now. Close enough for easy reach without being out in the open. It wasn't needed for this first bit anyway, and Shelby didn't see the sense in taunting Quinn with it beforehand. It was better if the girl didn't notice it until Shelby wanted her to.
Movement in the doorway drew the mother's attention and she looked up into the timid eyes of her sixteen-year-old. She offered the girl what she hoped was a soothing look (there was some worry it made her look constipated instead), and held her hand out in a quiet invitation.
Quinn had been able to watch her mother unnoticed for just a few seconds. Shelby looked nervous and…sad. Quinn could relate—she felt the same. But seeing her mama that way, when the woman was usually so assured of herself…Quinn felt rotten. Her actions had done that. The guilt she felt was enough to crush her.
Then Shelby looked up, and her expression changed in an instant. She was back to looking calm and collected—like she had all the answers in the world. She gave Quinn a small smile that relaxed the girl despite everything, and held her hand out. Quinn gulped but took a step forward.
The mother's heart broke at Quinn's crushed little face. The girl looked so nervous and sad, and her guilt was palpable. It was that look that told Shelby she was doing the right thing…even if it hurt right now. She took a deep breath as Quinn drew closer.
"Okay, Quinnie. Let's talk," she said, maneuvering Quinn down beside her. "Let's start with what happened at school."
Quinn sighed and squirmed as she wrung her hands together. Her mother placed her own over them and squeezed gently. Quinn's eyes watered as she focused on them.
"What happened in your English class? I know your teacher's side of it, but I'd like to hear yours," Shelby spoke gently, not wanting to upset the girl more than she already was.
"It was a review lesson mostly and I wasn't paying attention because I…Well I don't really need to. So San and I were talking in the back instead. Laughing and all. And, uh…talking about the sleepover tomorrow—" She paused here briefly, remembering Santana's worries that the sleepover would be taken away. Her eyes trailed up to her mother's slowly, hoping to glean the woman's thoughts on the matter from her look alone. Unfortunately, Shelby's expression gave nothing away and so Quinn continued.
"We got too loud and Mrs. Greer came back to tell us off. She asked if her lesson was disturbing us. I shouldn't have said it, Mama, I know, but it'd been a bad day and I was embarrassed. So I snapped back, something like: 'We were ignoring you just fine'. The whole class reacted and Mrs. Greer told me to leave and that she was giving me a zero for today." She bit her lip and eyed her mother again. "I'm sorry I was rude, Mama. I'll apologize to Mrs. Greer on Monday. Oh, and, um…I have detention after school that day. I'll need you to sign the slip. I dunno if she told you that…when she emailed."
"She did," Shelby confirmed. "Thank you for telling me the truth, honey. I'm proud of you for that—and for deciding to apologize to your teacher on your own." She gave her daughter a small smile.
Quinn looked down, the praise only making her guilt worse. "You shouldn't be. I caused a lot of trouble."
A wave of affection for this child crashed over the mother and she smiled more broadly. "I don't know about 'a lot', but certainly more trouble than was necessary. I don't think I'd have gotten an email at all for a simple telling-off for talking, hmm?"
Quinn squirmed and ducked her head. "No, ma'am…I'm sorry."
Shelby nodded and leaned in to kiss Quinn's cheek. "I know you had a bad day, love…but being rude because of that didn't make your day any better, did it?"
"Noooo," the teenager moaned, covering her face with her hands. "I wish I'd just stayed in bed this morning."
"Oh honey, I know," Shelby commiserated, rubbing a hand up and down her child's back. "We all have those days. You still have to show everyone the same kind of respect you do on the good days, though, right?"
"Yes, ma'am," Quinn answered, her face still hidden. Shelby reached out to remove the girl's hands, revealing a red-faced teenager.
"Right," Shelby repeated. "You've got to learn how to navigate being upset and angry and not lash out at others because of it. We've had this talk before—a few times now. And I know I let it go the last time with Santana because of what she said to you—I know it was incredibly hurtful. That's not the case today, however—" Shelby's tone shifted, becoming far more stern, and Quinn winced and squirmed in response. "Today's trouble could have been avoided if you'd just taken Mrs. Greer's reprimand with grace. So, it's time we have a reminder on the behavior I expect from you, I think."
Quinn's eyes misted over and she swiped across them quickly to clear them. "I'm sorry, Mama," she sniffled. Shelby gave her a sad smile and nodded.
"I know, love," the woman answered. "We're going to take care of it now." And with that, Shelby took hold of Quinn's arm and tugged. Quinn gasped and then gave a feeble yelp as she was guided over her mother's waiting thighs, but didn't fight the position once she was there.
Shelby's hand came to rest atop her daughter's sweatpants-clad bottom, pleased that the girl had listened and chosen a pair that didn't give her half an inch of extra padding. Quinn stiffened and Shelby soothed with a brief rub.
Quinn's breathing grew shallow and her heart pounded uncomfortably inside her rib cage. She wondered if her mother could feel it against her leg. That thought (and all others) were wiped from her mind as Shelby's hand suddenly left her bottom, returning a second later with a firm crack that echoed in the otherwise quiet room. Quinn jolted at the impact, eyes going wide as the sting spread across her skin. That had hurt! The girl hissed and shifted her hips. Another slap fell, landing on her opposite cheek.
"Ow!" the teen yelped. She was shocked at the sheer level of sting already heating her bottom after only two spanks—and over two layers of clothing, no less! "Mama! Ow!"
Shelby focused on her task, delivering crisp swats across her target. Quinn was reacting faster than she ever had before, but Shelby chalked that up to the emotional turmoil of the day. And at any rate, it was good for her usually-stoic girl to just let go. Her hand traveled lower, giving attention now to her child's sit-spots.
"Ow! Oohoo—Ouch!" Quinn whimpered, kicking her legs against the mattress as a new area was set ablaze. She didn't care that she was putting up quite the fuss for a spanking that hadn't even progressed past her sweatpants yet. And she didn't care that she was already crying softly. Her butt hurt, and her heart, and Quinn just wanted to be upset about it.
"Nooo, Mama!" Quinn cried a moment later when she felt her mother's fingers at the waistband of her sweats. "It hurts already! I'm sorry!"
"Your words hurt too, Quinnie," Shelby answered, working her child's sweatpants down to rest at her knees. "I'm sure your teacher was hurt by the disrespect you showed her in class today. She didn't deserve that, did she?"
"No, Mama, no! She d-didn't!" Quinn sniffled. "I promise I'll apologize on Monday!"
"I'm glad to hear it, honey," Shelby said. She raised her hand again and brought it down across the happy little Scottie dogs adorning her child's bottom. She noted they probably weren't as happy now—Quinn certainly wasn't as she kicked and cried.
"Mama!"
Shelby ignored her daughter's tearful protests, all the promises to be good, and the increasingly frantic 'Mama, please stop's. When Quinn squealed and threw her hand back to block, Shelby simply gathered it in her own and squeezed. Through it all, her left palm continued to clap down over and over again, turning pink skin a deeper shade.
Quinn could only cry as her last layer of protection was lowered. She'd long since given up bargaining with her mother. This wasn't going to be over until Shelby decided—there was nothing for Quinn to do but take it.
Shelby stopped when her daughter went limp across her knees. The girl's bottom was a bright, glowing red and radiated heat. Shelby knew it hurt. And Quinn was sobbing so pitifully. Shelby's heart constricted, no longer sure of herself and her plan.
Uncertain eyes traveled over to the nightstand where her mother's wooden spoon waited—a viper, indeed. It was nearly enough to make Shelby want to forget the whole thing. But then her mother's voice rose to the surface, bringing tears to Shelby's eyes.
'I don't like having to spank you, darling, but sometimes you need it. And not only because it teaches you a lesson, but because there's a healing power to tears. Are you really going to feel forgiven if I stop now? Be truthful with yourself, Shelby.'
Shelby sighed. She'd always hated when her mother was right. And her mother was right.
She needed a minute, though. She'd never be able to go through with this next part if Quinn was as inconsolable as she was now. Besides, the girl deserved to be loved up some before they proceeded with the final step.
Quinn was lifted to her feet and then sat on top of her mother's lap rather than over it. She didn't care that her underwear and pants were pooled down around her ankles or that her bright red bottom was on full display. She just wanted to be held.
Shelby hushed and soothed her upset girl, letting Quinn cry it all out. When the girl's tears finally slowed, the mother readjusted the teen. She wiped at the drying trails with the pads of her fingers and then kissed a sweaty forehead. Quinn watched her with bright, shiny eyes that made Shelby's heart ache.
"Alright, love. That's the spanking for the school incident sorted—" The mother sighed and took a deep breath. She hated this. "But that still leaves us the one for calling me a bitch."
"W–What?" Quinn's eyes grew wide. "Am I…We're not done?" In the whirlwind of stinging smacks, burning skin, and too many tears, it never even occurred to Quinn that the spanking she'd just gotten hadn't actually encompassed it all.
"We would've been if the only thing we had to correct was your rudeness with your teacher. But that isn't all that happened today, is it?"
"But Mama, I…I thought it was over." New tears welled within hazel eyes. It wasn't even that she disagreed with deserving to be spanked for what she said. She just hated thinking it was over only for the rug to be swept out from under her.
"I wanted to keep the issues separate for you," Shelby explained, brushing hair back from her daughter's face. Quinn just chewed at her lip and regarded Shelby sadly. It broke the woman's heart.
Deciding it was best to just jump right in, Shelby did. The sooner she had her say, the sooner they could be done with this whole messy thing.
"I know Zayde had his own talk with you about it and even punished you for it. And we talked some already, too. And while I really do understand that you didn't mean it and regret it, I'm not about to let you get away with speaking to me like that. I've never once shown you that level of disrespect, have I?"
"No, ma'am," Quinn answered, subdued.
"No, I don't. So, I don't think it is unreasonable of me to expect the same from you. Do you?"
"No, ma'am," the girl repeated. This time her voice cracked.
"Right. I expect better from you, Lucy Quinn, and I am going to hold you to those high standards I know you are capable of."
Quinn could feel her face heat up as her mother's reprimand went on. Much like her father before her, Shelby hadn't once raised her voice to the girl. She was speaking in a calm (though stern) tone, one that meant business and kept Quinn's attention very-much on-topic.
"Do you remember what I said to you the day you and Rachel were sent home for fighting? When you'd said some not-so-nice things to Zayde?"
Quinn gasped and she shook her head—not because she didn't remember, but because she hoped it wouldn't come true. "Mama, nooo."
Shelby would not be swayed. "Do you need me to remind you, then?"
"No! No, I–I remember, I just…I don't need you to use the spoon. Please, Mama!"
It took all of Shelby's will-power not to succumb to that sad little face staring back at her with big, beseeching eyes. "I made you a promise, Quinn. I haven't broken one yet and I don't intend to start now." Her words broke her child's dam, sending a slow stream of tears down smooth cheeks—That was harder to deal with. Shelby sighed and set the teenager on her feet.
Quinn watched on in horror as her mother leaned towards the night stand, arm outstretched. She followed the movement and saw Shelby's long fingers wrap around the handle of a truly terrifying looking spoon. As her mother straightened, Quinn expected to be yanked back over a maternal lap. So it came as a complete shock when Shelby held the spoon out to her.
"I don't want it!" the girl croaked, flinching back from it as if it were a venomous snake.
Shelby couldn't stop the laugh that slipped past pink lips. "I know," she said, her tone sympathetic. "But you're going to hold it and then go to that corner over there—" Watery eyes followed where she pointed, then returned with a pout. "I want you to spend some time thinking about your word choices and how you can make better ones in the future."
Quinn sighed but nodded, and then bent over to right her clothing. Her mother tapped her hip just as Quinn began to drag them up, and the girl snapped her head up to give the woman a questioning look.
"Keep those down, please," Shelby said.
"Mama," Quinn whined, her face growing hot in embarrassment. She tugged on the hem of her shirt as she straightened and gave her mother another pleading look.
"It's just us, baby," Shelby reassured her child. She held the spoon out again, and this time, Quinn took it. "Go stand facing the corner now. I'll call you out when your time-out is over."
The teenager chewed her bottom lip, but turned to do as she was told. Her face burned as she shuffled over to the corner, her clothing bunched around her feet making the walk of shame that much more so. It was a relief to finally make it to her destination—she could at least hide one set of flaming cheeks from view for a time.
Time worked differently in the corner, Quinn was sure of it. And she was certain she hated it. The girl shifted her weight from foot to foot, her toes scrunching the carpet as her stomach did pirouettes. It was hot and stuffy with her face so close to the wall, staring blankly at the hazy, purple-gray paint before her. She was supposed to be thinking about her words and how to choose better ones, but her mind refused to do it. Instead, she thought about how exposed she felt—how young and childish. She could only imagine how she must look right now, her pants lowered to the ground and wearing a t-shirt that did nothing for her modesty—she might as well have had a spotlight on her glowing red butt!
Shelby was not immune to her child's plight—the waiting was hard for her, too. Quinn looked so small and young standing in the corner. Holding that damn spoon. Shelby cringed as she was reminded all-at-once of her own meetings with that very same implement. Her mama pulled it out rarely, but each time was etched clearly in Shelby's memories. This time would be too, she realized with a pang.
The mother's eyes flicked to the time on her clock. She'd intended for Quinn to serve ten minutes in time-out. It had been eight. Shelby raked her top teeth over her bottom lip as she took in the state of her child. Quinn was restless and growing more anxious with every passing second. It would be cruel to drag this out any longer.
"Quinnie," Shelby called softly. Her voice still startled the girl. "Come here, please." She watched the teen's shoulders rise and fall as Quinn took a steadying breath.
Quinn jumped when her mother called her name. It hadn't been loud, but after her endless time in the quiet of the corner, it had caught her off guard. Her stomach plummeted with her mama's next words. Suddenly, the corner didn't seem so bad. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves…it didn't help.
"C'mon, baby. We're almost done," Shelby encouraged. Quinn had yet to turn from the relative safety of the corner. Shelby couldn't blame her—she remembered what that was like.
The teenager let out a long, forlorn sigh that Shelby felt in her soul. 'Same, girl,' the mother thought. She watched as Quinn's red face finally appeared from the corner. Her daughter wouldn't meet her eyes as she shuffled back over to the bed.
When Quinn was close enough, Shelby reached for the girl's wrist and tugged her to stand between her knees. Quinn squirmed on the spot, her face turning a deeper shade of red. Shelby let out a resigned sigh, not missing the way timid eyes darted up for a brief look before falling to the floor once again.
The mother took another deep breath to steel her nerves while setting her firm mask back in place. 'This will all be over in a few minutes,' she reminded herself. "Alright, young lady," she began, reaching out to tilt Quinn's chin up. "In a minute, I'm going to teach you a hard lesson—one I promised I'd give you if you chose to speak to anyone so disrespectfully again. But before I do that, I want to make sure we are clear on a few things—" She paused here, letting her words hang heavy in the air—she wanted to ensure she had Quinn's full attention.
The angry snakes were back to slithering inside Quinn's stomach. In fact, her entire body felt like it was crawling. Goosebumps erupted across her skin as a chill went down Quinn's spine. The spoon clutched in her right hand suddenly felt too heavy and too hot. If it wasn't for her mother's steady grip, one hand holding her wrist and the other her chin, Quinn would have turned tail and ran. Well…she'd have tried to (she'd nearly forgotten about her pants bunched around her ankles).
"I'm not spanking you because you were angry with me or even because of the attitude you gave me. You are allowed to have your feelings and express them. What you are not allowed to do is use that anger against someone. You don't get to lash out with vulgar and demeaning language. It's hurtful and beneath you and I will not tolerate it."
Tears streamed down Quinn's face and she hastily scrubbed at them with the back of her left hand. "I know," Quinn acknowledged in a sad little voice. "I didn't mean it though! I swear I didn't, Mama. I just wasn't…thinking," she added, wincing. Even she knew that was a lame excuse.
Shelby shook her head. "I know you didn't, Quinnie—that's our whole problem. You never mean the things you say, but that's never stopped you from saying them—" At this, the teen tried to look away, but Shelby wouldn't allow it. "—And as for the not thinking about it…I need you to start thinking about it, young lady. I know you are capable of considering your words and choices before you act on them."
"I will! I promise I will!" Quinn whimpered.
"I know," Shelby nodded. "Because I am going to give you something to think on and remember until you've learned how to on your own." Then, with what was becoming an all-too-practiced move, she tugged her teenager into place.
Quinn yelped as she toppled down. Normally her mama laid her across both legs, but this time she was bent over just one of Shelby's thighs. The unfamiliar position was jarring and Quinn squirmed and pushed up on her elbows to twist her head around. She stared at her mother in alarm as the woman shifted her hips further over her right thigh. Quinn's bottom was lifted high while her legs hung over the edge of the bed. Then Shelby's left leg came to lay across Quinn's while her right arm wrapped around the girl's waist. "M-Mama?" Her voice came out shaky and scared.
Shelby could hear and feel her child's unease and gave the girl a reassuring look as she rubbed her back. "Easy, Quinn. I'm drawing from personal experience here. You're gonna want to be held like this when I take the spoon to you in a minute," the mother explained. "I'll keep you close against me and make sure you can't kick or throw a hand back. I don't want to risk the spoon landing somewhere it shouldn't—" Her eyes traveled down to inspect Quinn's bare bottom. The color had faded from a deep red to a dusty pink during the girl's time-out. Saddened that she was about to turn those cheeks an angry red once again, the mother took a steadying breath and then said with more resolve than she felt, "Now—Hand me that spoon."
"No, Mama, please, I'm sorry. Please not that," Quinn begged, sounding pitiful even to her own ears.
"And I appreciate that you're sorry, honey, but your 'sorry' isn't enough. It doesn't erase what you said or take away the hurt I felt at hearing it. Clearly, my words and the spanking I gave you in January weren't enough to teach you this lesson—" Quinn squirmed and Shelby readjusted, wrapping her arm more securely around her daughter's waist. She then plucked the wooden implement from her child's hand and rested the oval back against bare skin. "You knew this was coming—I told you it would if we had to deal with this issue again. You didn't listen to that—" Shelby lifted the spoon and took aim. "—Perhaps you'll listen to this."
Quinn heard the crack of wood against skin, felt the pressure of the spoon connecting with the center of her left cheek. The pain was the last to register, and when it did, Quinn held nothing back. "AH! Owwhow, Mama—OW!"
Shelby grimaced, silently commiserating her child's pain. She knew how much the spoon stung, and it didn't make it any less painful being on the opposite end of its bite now, either. Not giving herself time to think, the mother snapped the spoon down a second time, and then a third. She set a steady pace, popping the wood against her target with measured strength, and watching as fresh color bloomed in splotchy pink ovals across her canvas.
"Ow! Ow, ow! Mama! Ooohoo, I—Ouch! I'm sorry! Mama, I'm sorry! I promise I won't be disrespectful! I'll think before I—Oh, OW! I talk!"
"I hope so," Shelby answered as she landed her first spank to the girl's sit-spots. Quinn jolted and let out a wail that she quickly muffled in folded arms. "I want you to think about where you find yourself right now—" The spoon went to work painting new splashes of red across the tender under curve of her daughter's squirming bottom. "And the pain you're feeling—"
Quinn's head snapped up, her toes drumming against the plush carpet below. "I am! I am thinking! Owwhow! Mama, please—it HURTS!"
Shelby's arm continued its steady rise and fall, and while she had eased up on the force behind it by a significant degree, she more-than understood that meant very little to her child right now. "Yes, it does," she agreed. "But words can hurt so much worse, Quinnie. And the pain from them last longer than a sore bottom."
"I'm sorry! Oh, Mama, I'm—Ow! I didn't mean to h–hurt you! Please—Ouch! Please stop!" Quinn wailed. She was overwhelmed by the fierce, burning sting the spoon left in its wake. It felt like a thousand angry hornets were attacking her bottom—and they were All. On. Fire!
"Not meaning to doesn't make your words hurt any less, Lucy Quinn. You need to remember that the next time you're angry and feel like spouting off obscenities and mean-spirited remarks—"
"I will, Mama, I—Ooohoh—I'll never do it again!" Quinn gasped and wriggled, hands clawing at her mother's bedspread as she tried to pull herself free from the woman's grip. Her mother had her locked in—she wasn't going anywhere and all her struggling did was wear her out. Giving up on escape, Quinn wrapped her right arm around her mama's back, fisting the woman's shirt in her hand. She didn't fight the sob that rose up.
Shelby's correction never faltered, but the same could not be said for her heart as Quinn began to cry in earnest. It was time to bring this to a close. Snapping the implement down in quick succession, she rounded off her lesson with a promise: "Because if you can't, I will do this—every—single—time—" The spoon's sharp crack set fire to her words, burning them into Quinn's brain and butt in tandem.
Exhausted, chest heaving, the girl slumped across her mother's thigh and lay still. Shelby stopped immediately, tossing the spoon over onto her nightstand. She unpinned Quinn's legs and eased the hold on her child's waist. Her hand then lowered to whisper across red-hot skin.
Quinn cried even harder after her mama stopped spanking her, out of pure relief that her punishment was finally over. The woman might have just given her the spanking of her life, but Quinn's heart felt lighter than it had all day.
"C'mon, honey, let's get you up so I can hold you," Shelby soothed, her left hand dropping to her side where Quinn's fist still clutched her t-shirt. She eased the girl's fingers open and then ran her thumb across a warm palm. Quinn's hand retreated a second later and Shelby helped the teenager to her feet.
Quinn's hands immediately flew behind her to clap over her throbbing backside. The girl let out a shocked little gasp at the heat radiating off her skin and twisted around to get a glimpse of the damage. It was so red! "Owhoww," she whimpered as she rubbed. She then looked up to meet her mother's eyes, Shelby's features distorted by tears. "M–Mama—"
Shelby Corcoran fought back her own sob at her daughter's distress and scooted up the bed until her back was against the headboard. "I know, baby. Come here," she breathed, her arms outstretched in invitation.
Quinn bent over, yelping as her bottom protested the movement. Her hands trembled as she fought to remove her sweatpants. She hesitated briefly as she considered kicking off her underwear as well, but decided to pull them up in the end. "Oh, ow!" she hissed as the material settled over tender skin, trapping the heat inside.
Shelby watched in sympathy as her child fussed with her underwear, knowing how much it could chafe. "You can leave them off if you want, honey," she suggested.
Quinn shook her head emphatically. She'd spent far too much time tonight with her butt bare—she wanted it covered. She dove for her mother.
"Oof!" Shelby grunted as her sobbing teenager landed nearly on top of her.
"'M sorry, Mama! I'm so sorry!" Quinn cried, burying her face in her mother's chest.
"Shh, baby. Shh. It's okay," Shelby cooed as she shifted to recline. Quinn readjusted and then settled more comfortably against her, and Shelby began to rub her back as she would Beth. It soothed her teenager just as easily as her infant.
Quinn's tears calmed under her mother's patient attention. The girl was exhausted, worn out in all the ways a person can be: mentally, emotionally, and most especially—physically. The beginning of her day felt so far away. But now—finally—she was where she had wanted to be. In her mama's arms.
Quinn yawned and snuggled further into her mother's chest, comforted by the sound of the woman's steady heartbeat against her ear. Shelby wrapped her in a tight hug, following it up with a gentle kiss to Quinn's hairline. Quinn's lips twitched up in a sleepy smile, soaking up the affection like a dry sponge.
It was gone too soon. Shelby shifted beneath her, arms retreating. Quinn's eyes popped open and without even thinking, the girl suctioned herself to her mother's side. "Wait, Mama! Don't leave me yet! Please?" Quinn implored, meeting Shelby's eyes through a fresh sheen of tears clouding her own. She knew she sounded ridiculous, and she was acting more toddler than teenager at present. But the thought of Shelby leaving her and sending her to bed was too much for the sixteen-year-old to cope with after everything else that had happened today.
Shelby was startled by her child's sudden panic, but reacted immediately. Wrapping her arms around Quinn's shaking body, she pulled the girl impossibly close. "Shh, shh, Quinnie. You're okay. I'm right here, baby. I'm not going anywhere," she reassured, rocking the pair of them. Quinn held onto her for dear life. "What's got you so upset, honey? What happened?" Quinn's reaction came out of nowhere and Shelby was at a loss for what to do. She needed more information.
"I don't…I don't want you to leave yet! It's been such a shi—sucky—day, Mama! I just want you to hold me. I've wanted you to hold me all d–day!" Quinn cried.
Shelby's heart burst and tears blurred her own eyes. Blinking them away, the mother took in a shaky breath. "Oh, honey, I'll hold you," she rasped, "I will always hold you. As long as you need. Shh, shhh, my sweet girl. Mama's right here."
"You weren't th–there after school! I wanted you and then Zayde was there and—I just wanted you, Mama! I needed a hug and wanted you to h–hold me! And you finally are but I'm in trouble and you're gonna s–send me to bed! And I know I deserve it, I do. 'Cuz I hurt you. But please, Mama—please stay with me a little longer. I'm not r–ready for—you to—leave."
The mother closed her eyes, sending several tears down her cheeks, and raised her head toward the ceiling. She sent a silent prayer out to the universe…and one to her own mama, wherever she was. "I'm sorry I wasn't there, sweetheart. I'm here now and I'm not leaving you. I'm staying right here and I will hold you all night, okay? I promise, Quinnie. Take some deep breaths for me now."
Her daughter was reeling; Shelby knew that. And she knew that there was nothing more she could do right now except see the girl through it. So she continued to hold her child and rock and offer whispered reassurances, all while Quinn worked through her tears. By the end, the teenager's sobs had quieted to hitching snuffles and the odd hiccup. The girl's eyes fluttered and she yawned wide. Then those raw, red-rimmed eyes met Shelby's and she momentarily forgot to breathe. The pain and uncertainty reflected in those hazel eyes were haunting.
Quinn had been getting better about letting herself cry when she needed to. She'd even begun to believe Shelby when the woman told her that it was okay to cry—and for as long and as often as she needed to. But there were still times, like now, where the girl's longtime fears reared their ugly heads and made her doubt. So, she had casted her eyes up to gauge Shelby's expression, fearing the worst. One look was all it took—
Shelby was Mama, just like always…just like forever.