Colleen scrunched her nose and shook her head. “What do you do when you don’t like what somebody does?”
Her daughter’s question caught her off guard, but she quickly answered, “Well, it depends on what they’ve done. We don’t always like what other people do, but everyone has a right to make their own decisions.” Sliding the pan of brownies into the oven, she set the timer before turning back to the counter. Colleen’s bottom lip jutted out slightly, and it appeared her daughter was not satisfied with her answer. Probing further, she asked, “Can you tell me what they did that you didn’t like?”
“They say mean things.”
Whatever Colleen was talking about, it was much deeper than what she originally thought. She moved to the refrigerator and poured a glass of milk, then cut a banana into slices and grabbed the jar of peanut butter. “While we wait for the brownies to cook and then cool, why don’t we have a healthy snack and we can talk.”
Colleen’s face brightened and she climbed down from the stool, moving to the kitchen table. Tara set the food in front of her daughter and watched as she munched on banana and peanut butter, her legs swinging back and forth. After drinking half her milk, Colleen looked up at her mom. “I was at the back of the line when we had our bathroom break. A girl came in and she was crying. I asked her what was wrong, and she said Vicki Burton called her fat. I told her she wasn’t, but I didn’t have time to stay in the bathroom because I didn’t want to get in trouble with my teacher.”
“That was sweet of you to say. I’m sure you made her feel better.”
Colleen shook her head and said, “That’s not the first time I’ve heard that about Vicki Burton. She was in my kindergarten class last year and she used to make lots of people cry.” Her nose scrunched again, and she sighed. “I don’t want to be a tattletale, but should I tell my teacher?”
“Oh, honey, I know that’s a hard thing to understand, but if someone’s doing something wrong, and we know about it, we need to do something. That’s not being a tattletale. That’s protecting others.”
“I thought maybe that was the right thing. Grandpa’s always saying we need to do the right thing, even if it’s hard.”
She smiled at the thought of Colleen piled up in Colm’s lap as he would read fairy tales to her, then explain the morals of the stories. He had done the same thing for her when she was little. It hadn’t always been easy being the daughter of an FBI investigator, but her parents instilled a strong sense of responsibility for others in each of their children. “Are you afraid of Vicki? Are you afraid that if you tell a teacher what she’s saying about other children that she’ll say things about you?”
Colleen’s leg swung back and forth a little faster as she appeared to ponder her mom’s question. “Not really. I guess if she was in my class this year, I might be. But I don’t really see her. I just see the kids that she makes cry.”
She held out her arms, and Colleen slid off her chair, crawling onto Tara’s lap. The two snuggled together and Tara inhaled deeply, loving the scent of her little girl. “I’m very proud of you for wanting to help the kids who are being bullied by Vicki. It’s not always easy to do the right thing, but you’re very brave.”
“I’m going to tell my teacher,” Colleen declared. “And if that doesn’t work, then I’m going to tell my uncles. If she’s doing something wrong, then they can make her stop. That’s what the police do, isn’t it, Mom? They make people do the right thing.”
Her breath caught in her throat as she listened to the words of her daughter. Swallowing deeply, she tried to steady the pounding of her heart. “I’m not sure that the police will keep Vicki from saying mean things. But you're right about the police. When someone breaks the law, they need to be involved.”
Colleen hopped down after giving Tara a hug and ran into the den to turn on the TV. Tara remained at the kitchen table, her mind swirling with thoughts.
Polly was engaged in illegal activities regardless of her desire to help. I knew Carter was working on an investigation that involved the clinic before I ever mentioned Polly offering antibiotics to me. He was doing the right thing, not me.
She walked over to where her purse was lying on the counter and pulled out her phone. She started to call but chickened out. Blowing out her breath, she began to type a message. Before changing her mind, she quickly hit send.
Making brownies with Colleen. Would you like one as a peace offering? T
Immediately terrified, she wished she had a way to pull the text back. Before she could determine if there was a way to delete it, her phone vibrated.
I’ll be there in twenty minutes. C
The air left her lungs in an audible whoosh. Glancing at her reflection in the window, she shot her gaze over to the oven, seeing that she had five minutes before the brownies were ready. “Sweetie, Carter is going to come have a brownie with us. I’m gonna run upstairs and brush my hair.”
As she dashed down the hall, Colleen’s joyful shout hit her ears. Running into her bathroom, she smiled. The first smile in five days.
Standing outside of Tara’s door, Carter was nervous. When Evan had joked about being afraid of Tara’s wrath, his partner had no idea how true those words were. He hesitated before ringing the doorbell, but just as he lifted his hand, he could hear Colleen shout from inside the house.
“Mom! I see Carter!”
“Colleen, come back. Let me open the door.”
The door opened, and before
