Chapter 12: Not Married Enough

I did not decide to move.

I was simply on the bottom step, and then I was standing between Carlton and his son.

"Step back," I said.

"Jo, move."

"You step back, Carlton, or I swear to God I will let every person in this room watch what you do next."

His hand was still curled in the air.

The coach, a broad man in a team windbreaker, put his own hand flat on Carlton's chest.

"Maddox," he said. "Not here. Not him."

Carlton looked at his open palm for a long moment.

Then he lowered it.

"I didn't mean..." he said.

"You did," Cody said, from behind me, very quietly.

Nobody argued.

One by one the guests set down their plates.

The mothers collected jackets and car keys, and the fathers herded the team toward the door in a quiet, embarrassed line.

At the threshold the woman with the ponytail turned back to Colleen, who was still on the hall floor, one hand clasped around her ankle.

"I hope it heals quickly," she said. "Since you carried those boxes out to the van on it this morning."

She left.

Colleen sat up slowly and said nothing.

Carlton helped her to the sofa without speaking.

I knelt on the tile and gathered the pieces of Cody's phone, the cracked screen and the battery cover and the small black chip.

"It's gone," Cody said, in a flat voice.

"Is the video?"

"It backs up when it's on Wi-Fi. It was on Wi-Fi." He took the pieces from me and shut his fingers around them. "It's in my cloud, Jo."

"Then it's safe."

"Dad's never done that."

"I know."

"He didn't mean it, did he?"

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