“Everyone does it,” he said.
She managed a laugh. “No, no. When I was eight, I accidentally burped, and everyone laughed. We were watching a movie. My whole family. Dad let me rest my head on him.”
Church ended, and people started flooding the foyer. Mark and Cadence were swept up in the tide and pushed out the door. He took her hand and led her to a private nook on the other side of the church entry.
“I wanted you to have a good experience,” Mark said. “I wanted you to feel good coming back here.”
Cadence shook her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe if I hadn’t seen my parents, I would have been fine.”
“Well, I did listen to the lesson while I kept my eye on you,” Mark said. “If you want me to tell you about it later.”
She smiled. “Why is it so hard to let them go?”
“Because they’re your parents.”
“But they’re awful!”
“Doesn’t matter. You spent the majority of your life—”
Cadence placed her hand on Mark’s forearm and shook her head, silently telling him to be quiet. She thought she heard the sound of Mrs. Connelly’s voice, but it didn’t sound like a pleasant conversation. Cadence walked around the corner and spotted them: Mrs. Connelly and her mother. Something told her to stay put, so she partially hid behind a tree.
“If you have something to say to me, then you need to say it,” Mrs. Connelly said.
“I do have something to say to you,” Mrs. Miller shot back.
“Well, out with it already!”
Mrs. Miller wasted no time. “What kind of woman raises a son to go after young girls? Hmm? Your son is nothing but a predator who takes advantage of impressionable teenagers!”
Mrs. Connelly drew herself up to her full height. “Now, I don’t think you need to be name-calling. I mean, I suppose we could go that route, but you don’t wanna hear the names I have for you.”
“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m not scared of anything you have to say to me,” Mrs. Miller snapped.
“Mrs. Miller, I’m quite sure you wouldn’t want me calling you a spineless bitch in the church parking lot,” Mrs. Connelly said.
Mrs. Miller’s mouth dropped open. She narrowed her eyes. “Your son is a PREDATOR!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. She knew it would attract the attention of churchgoers leaving the auditorium.
“My son broke no laws,” Mrs. Connelly calmly replied.
“So what? He was her teacher! He should have known better! He preyed on her because she was lonely!”
Mrs. Connelly raised her eyebrows. The message wasn’t lost on Mrs. Miller.
“How dare you! Because Cadence was being punished, it’s our fault she was an easy target?”
“No. I don’t think she was a target at all.”
Mrs Miller snorted. “Of course you don’t. That would be tantamount to recognizing your son’s guilt.”
“I find it interesting that you give Cadence no credit for having a brain. She was a willing participant from the beginning, but you won’t give her the decency or respect she deserves. She has a functioning brain and can make her own goddamn decisions.”
Mrs. Miller looked stunned. “Listen to that filthy mouth,” she breathed.
“And I’ve got more,” Mrs. Connelly warned. She pointed a finger right in Mrs. Miller’s face. “You had an opportunity to restore your relationship with your daughter. Your daughter. And you walked away. You’re a pathetic excuse for a mother.”
“I’m not!” Mrs. Miller shouted. “I’m a good mother!”
Mrs. Connelly burst out laughing—an icy laughter. “You’re deluded. You disowned your daughter. The child your husband hit.”
“Stop it!”
“The child who made a bad decision, but for Christ’s sake, ONE bad decision! Is she to pay for that forever?”
“You don’t know anything about our situation!” Mrs. Miller shouted.
“I know everything about your situation because Cadence told me,” Mrs. Connelly replied.
“She’s brainwashed! That man brainwashed her!”
“That man has a name!” Mrs. Connelly roared. “His name is Mark. He gives your daughter all the things you’re supposed to give her: a home, security, love.”
Mrs. Miller couldn’t think of a reply, so she screamed, “You’re not her mother!”
Cadence wanted to run towards the sound of her mother’s voice, but she realized the argument drew a crowd. She was embarrassed, and hid further behind the tree.
Mr. Miller tried to pull his wife towards the car, but she wouldn’t budge. She wasn’t finished with Mrs. Connelly yet.
“Was this your plan all along?! Get your son to go after my daughter so you could take her away from me?!”
Mrs. Connelly said nothing. How could she answer a question so absurd?
“He stole my daughter away!” Mrs. Miller cried. She was hysterical, and Cadence watched helplessly as the tears coursed down her mother’s worn and lined cheeks. “He stole her from me! You stole her from me!”