Page 76 of Scoring Chance

“I wasn’t trying to hurt him. I just wanted him to give back Dean’s hat.” Davy looks down at the ground.

“I asked to play with it, and then he clobbered me,” Wesley yells to his parents, immediately falling into sobs.

“We asked to play in the playhouse,” says one twin.

“And then they locked us in!” exclaimed the other. I’m too on edge to remember their names.

“We only put you in there so you’d stop pinching my sister,” Lena says, the calmest one of all.

“Lena, you should know better,” I say.

“We only put them in there so they’d chill out. They started screaming out of nowhere.”

“Because they were trapped. That’s false imprisonment. That’s a crime.” Kyle points a finger at my daughter. Rage pulses through me so hard I want to snap that digit off. “Des, how could you let your kids do this?”

Des turns to him with a stone cold grimace. “My kids said they didn’t start this. And I believe them.”

I silently cheer. Des gives each of them a tense nod of support.

“Let’s let cooler heads prevail,” Stan says, stepping into the middle of the fracas like a wrestling ref. “I think playing just got out of hand.”

“I don’t want to paint over this with a euphemism. My poor kids were attacked.” Kyle hugs his brood tight. “I’m going to get them checked out by a doctor.”

“I’ll do the same for mine,” Des shoots back.

“I just want peace!” Marissa dabs at her eyes.

“Daddy, I think I have trauma!” cries one of the twins.

“Kids.” Stan claps his hands, getting all of their attention. “Now, are any of you physically hurt?” Stan gives them that teacher look, making it hard to lie. He stares each of them in the eye. The kids eventually shake their heads no. “Alright then. Just a little roughhousing.”

“A little roughhousing?” Kyle guffaws. “I think we’re gonna go.”

“It’s okay.” Des squats down and checks in with Lulu and Dean. He picks up Dean’s hat from the ground, places it back on his head.

“We’re sorry. Did we ruin your job?” Dean asks with a trembling lip.

“No. Are you all okay?” Des caresses a hand down Lulu’s hair. Despite the embarrassment of this moment, I can’t help but be swept away by Des’s warmth.

I go back inside the house and check on dinner. It’s staying warm in the oven. Well, it looks like we’re going to have a lot of leftovers. Through the kitchen window, I glare at Kyle’s family as they make their way to the minivan. Kyle hands each of his kids a five-dollar bill before sliding the door shut.

“Stan, I am so sorry about this. I don’t know what happened,” Des says back in the living room.

Stan chuckles to himself. “Des, welcome to fatherhood. Being a parent means watching your best laid plans go to shit over and over again.”

“I’m realizing that.” Des pours himself a glass of wine. He offers me one when I rejoin them in the living room, but I decline. I probably shouldn’t consume alcohol mere minutes after watching my kids falsely imprison little girls in a playhouse.

Stan signals for Des and me to come closer. “Between us, Kyle’s kids give me the creeps.”

“It’s the Stepford vibe,” I say.

“Exactly. Des, I like this one.” Stan claps me on the shoulder. He heads to the door.

“Did you want to stay for dinner? We have plenty.” I let out a weak laugh.

“It’s probably best that I go and let everyone’s nerves settle.”

We huddle by the door, Stan pulling on his coat. Perhaps we came out of this disaster without burning everything to the ground.