Cover of Night Read Free Page A

She could feel the situation beginning to spiral out of control, her maternal instinct telling her they were on the verge of outright rebellion. This happened every so often, pushing at the boundaries to see how far she would let them go. Never show weakness. That was her mother’s sole advice for facing bullies, wild animals, or disobedient four-year-olds.
    “No,” Cate said firmly, and pointed at the toolbox. “Tools in the box. Now. ”
    Pouting, Tucker threw a screwdriver into the box. Cate felt her back teeth grind together; he knew better than to throw his own things, much less someone else’s. Swiftly she stepped over the toolbox, took his arm, and swatted his rear end. “Young man, you know better than to throw Mr. Harris’s tools. First you’re going to tell him you’re sorry; then you’re going to your room to sit in the naughty chair for fifteen minutes.” Tucker immediately began to wail, tears streaking down his face, but Cate merely raised her voice as she pointed at Tanner. “You. Wrench in the box.”
    He scowled, looking mutinous, but he heaved a sigh and carefully placed the wrench in the toolbox. “Oooookay,” he said in a tone of doom that made her bite her lip to keep from laughing. She had learned the hard way she couldn’t give these two an inch, or they’d run roughshod over her.
    “You have to sit in the naughty chair for ten minutes, after Tucker gets up. You disobeyed, too. Now, both of you finish picking up those tools and put them back in the box. Gently. ”
    Tanner’s lower lip came out as he imitated a miniature thundercloud, and Tucker was still crying, but to her relief they began doing as they were told. Cate looked around to find that Mr. Harris had pulled his head from the depths of the cabinets and was opening his mouth, no doubt to defend the little culprits. She raised her finger at him. “Not one word,” she said sternly.
    He blushed scarlet, mumbled, “No, ma’am,” and stuck his head back under the sink.
    When the tools had been restored to the box, though probably not in their proper places, Cate prompted Tucker, “What are you supposed to tell Mr. Harris?”
    “I’m sowwy,” he said, hiccuping in the middle of the word. His nose was running.
    Mr. Harris wisely kept his head inside the cabinet. “It’s o—” he started to say, then stopped. He seemed to freeze for a moment; then he finally mumbled, “You boys should mind your mother.”
    Cate seized a paper towel and wiped Tucker’s nose. “Blow,” she instructed, holding the towel in place, and he did with the excess energy he put into everything. “Now, both of you go up to your room. Tucker, sit in the naughty chair. Tanner, you may play quietly while Tucker’s in the chair, but don’t talk to him. I’ll come upstairs and tell you when to swap places.”
    Heads down, the two little boys dragged themselves up the stairs as if they were facing a fate of unimaginable horror. Cate checked the clock to see what time Tucker would be released from punishment.
    Sherry had come back into the kitchen and was watching Cate with a mixture of sympathy and amusement. “Will Tucker actually sit in the chair until you go upstairs?”
    “He will now. In the past his time in the naughty chair has been extended several times before so now he gets the idea. Tanner has been even more stubborn.” And that was the understatement of the year, she thought, remembering the struggle it had been to make him obey. Tanner didn’t talk much, but he personified “stubborn.” Both boys were active, strong-willed, and absolutely brilliant when it came to finding new and different ways to get in trouble—and worse, danger. Once she had been horrified at the idea of even swatting their bottoms, much less spanking them, but before they turned two she had revised a lot of her former opinions on child-raising. They still had never had a spanking, but she no longer had confidence that they would get through their childhood