Chapter 37
Mac came in from school not long after her father and Montana had returned home themselves. She had just been about to head for her room to change into house clothes when Paul called out to her.
“Mackenzie Regina Sanchez-Garcia London, get in here! I need to talk to you.”
Uh oh, she thought. Papi doesn’t call me Mackenzie unless something’s up.
Gingerly, Mac walked into the dining room where he sat, holding a letter.
“Yes, Papi?”
“What is this about you fighting at school? I got a letter from your teacher.”
“Just some stupid girls at recess,” Mac replied.
“Mac, you and I have talked about this. When I called your teacher, she said you did a wrestling move on one of those girls on the playground. Didn’t I tell you and Kira about not doing that kind of stuff? You and other people could get hurt bad.”
“Well, they were making fun of the new kid and I got mad. It’s rude to make fun of people.”
“Baby, while it’s good you wanted to stick up for that other kid, this isn’t the way to solve it. You know, if that other girl had gotten hurt really bad, do you know I could get into some serious trouble too? How many times have I told you that the stuff I do in the ring I trained for a long time to learn how to do? And one wrong move, Mac, you could get hurt or even die. That could happen to someone else too. Do you really want that?”
“No,” Mac responded. “But what was I supposed to do, just stand there and let them pick on Morgan because she doesn’t walk as good as the rest of the kids? Uh uh. I’m having none of it.”
“You could have gone to your teacher, Mac,” Paul said.
“And be called a tattletale? That’s for babies like Sissy. Besides, Uncle Spanky says if people give you crap, kick their butt.”
“Uncle Spanky is also not your papi. Nor is he your grandmother that’s paying for you to get a good education at this school. You know, things can be solved without violence, Mac. Now I have to spend one of the rare days I have off going down to school to have a conference with your teacher and the principal tomorrow. You better hope you don’t get expelled for this, young lady; otherwise, your grandmother is not going to be very happy.”
“I’m sorry, Papi. I won’t do it any more.”
“All right, this better be the last time I hear about stuff like this. Meanwhile, I want you to write a letter to that girl and apologize.”
“Aww, Papi, do I have to?” Mac whined.
“Yes you do. I’ve already told your teacher I was going to have you do it as punishment. In addition to that, you’re also going to do an essay for the class on why kids shouldn’t imitate wrestling moves they see on TV. And you’re grounded for the rest of the week. I want you to think about this stuff, Mac, and that there are better ways to solve problems. You know if you have one, you can go to the teacher or come to me or even Montana. Okay?”
“Okay,” Mac nodded.
“Good girl. Now go change into your play stuff. Uniforms cost money and I don’t want to get a sermon from your grandmother about them being a mess.”
Once Mac was gone, Montana had come into the room.
“So how did that go?” she asked, handing him a soda.
“Better than expected, I guess,” he replied. “I just can’t understand after I’ve told these girls about fighting that Mac would go and do something like that.”
“Maybe having her papi’s temper plays a role in it.”
“Thanks a lot, Mon; you’re not helping much here.”
“Well, she’s a little spitfire, I can tell you that much.”
Paul flipped open his phone, dialing a number.
“Now who are you calling?” Montana wondered.
“A certain blond midget to rip him another one.”
“What does Brian have to do with all of this?”
“I don’t know; perhaps telling my daughter that if people give her any shit, to kick their asses?”
“Oh no he didn’t!”
“He did, and I’m about to give him hell for it. Jesus Christ, if the sex talk thing wasn’t bad enough, he’s telling these girls the exact opposite of what I’m trying to teach them not to do. And the last thing we need is some kid getting hurt and me losing my life savings along with my balls in a lawsuit. And you know once some of these blood suckers find out who I am, the dollar signs will be popping up.”
He then paused for a moment, then sighed. “Great, the voicemail came on. Fucking hell.”
“Leave a message, I guess,” Montana shrugged.
Paul did just that. “Yo, Spanky, PL here. Whenever you decide to put your dick back in your pants or get done taking a shit or whatever the hell you‘re doing, give me a call. It’s important.”
“Wow, that should be a sure fire way to get a call back,” Montana said.
“Trust me, he will. But until he does, at least we have this whole thing with Mac out of the way. Any other wedding stuff we need to get to in the meantime? You have me all night, baby.”
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