Broken Wings (Broken Wings 1)

“So that’s why you’re doing all these things? Just for spite?”

“I’m not doing anything. I needed the car yesterday and he wouldn’t let me have it. He was doing that just for spite.”

“You were sent home drunk from school! What was he supposed to do, reward you?”

“He loves punishing me. It helps him forget his mistake.”

“What mistake?”

“Having me!”

“They’re not sending you to the right therapist,” Carson decided after a moment. “You do need real help.”

“Right. You can go now, Carson. You did your duty. Go make your report to Daddy and tell him I haven’t set the house on fire again.”

He stared at me.

“I came to offer you help, Teal. I’m willing to listen to you and to give you advice.”

“If you want to help me, tell him to stop punishing me so much and treating me like a common thief.”

“Give him reason to have faith in you, and he will. You’ll see,” he promised.

I thought for a moment. There was a line I remembered from a story we had to read for English class. A grandmother told her granddaughter, “You can get more with honey than with vinegar.”

“Thanks,” I said, and looked up at him. “I really don’t have anyone to talk to, Carson. Mother is so involved with her social events and Daddy’s always so busy and you’re hardly here. None of the friends I have at the new school are nice. They’re all so snobby. They hold it against me because I was in public school all this time.”

“Really? What creeps.”

“Yes, I agree, so I don’t try to make friends with them. I’m not happy in the private school. Maybe you can get Daddy to put me back in the public school. He’ll save money.”

“Um,” Carson said, thinking.

“It’s not any better. The teachers aren’t so great. I heard they don’t get paid as well, so the school doesn’t get the best possible teachers.”

“That’s true. I attended a preparatory school, you’ll remember, and that wasn’t so terrific.”

“You know, then.”

“I’ll talk with him,” Carson said. “Obviously, some changes have to be made.”

“Thank you, Carson. I feel so helpless sometimes.”

He nodded. Honey was working, I thought.

“They took away my allowance. You know what it’s like being around those snob birds and not having a cent in your pocket? They don’t let me forget it. They flash their fifties and hundred-dollar bills in my face.”

He grimaced.

“They do?”

“Oh, every chance they get. They don’t buy things. They just carry it to show off or drive the cafeteria cashier crazy by handing her big bills. She doesn’t have that sort of change, so their charges get put on a bill and sent to their parents anyway.”

He nodded again. I felt like a fisherman pulling in a catch that nibbled, bit, and now was easing onto the hook.

“Can you imagine what it’s like for me? And Daddy thinks I’m better off there.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll talk to him about it all.”