“Regina, put that down!” She backed up a few steps and hung on to it. “I said to put it down.” I could tell by the defiance in her eyes I was going to have to take it from her. I started out of the chair. In one quick movement, she tore the page from the book, then hurled the book to the floor. As I came to her, she crumpled the picture into a ball. I grabbed her arm and headed for the stairs. “You are going to your room and you’re staying there until I tell you you can come out.”

She began to cry. “I want Daddy. I want Daddy to come home!”

“Get going,” I said, aiming her up the first step.

“I want Daddy,” she sobbed, and slid down against the wall.

“Regina, I can’t carry you, but if I have to I’ll drag you up. Now get moving.”

She spread herself face down on the steps and wailed, “I want Daddy. I want him now!”

“Get up.” I tugged on her arm, but she was determined to stay where she was.

“Irene, what’s wrong?” It was Gloria at the top of the stairs.

“Just the Queen of Sheba throwing a tantrum.” I took hold of Regina by both wrists and started walking backward up the steps.

“Irene, don’t! You’ll hurt your back.”

“She is going to her room—one way or the other.”

“I want Daddy!”

Gloria came down. “I shouldn’t butt in, but let me help you. You can’t pull her like that; you’ll both get hurt.” She went for Regina’s feet but had to pull away when Regina began to kick.

“Don’t touch me! You don’t live here! Go away and let my daddy come home! Don’t touch me, don’t touch me!”

I was furious and ashamed. I had to stand still for a minute because I was afraid I might yank Regina’s arms right out of their sockets. I saw a look of sympathy, almost pity, on Gloria’s face, and I hated Regina for putting it there.

When I got her into her room, I closed the door and took a few deep breaths to steady myself. She flung herself onto the bed and buried her face in the pillow.

“You can go right on crying,” I said, “but you listen to me and you listen well. Gloria is my friend and she and Brian are guests in this house. When you have guests, you share things with them. So you’d better start learning how. You’ve had a few little taps on your butt before, but you’ve never had a real spanking. You’re going to find out what one feels like if you dare to act the way you did just now. Do you understand?” I knew better than to wait for an answer, so I left immediately.

When I got back to the living room, Brian was uncrumpling the picture to show to Gloria. I felt helpless, with nothing to say. If only Brian had cried or thrown a tantrum himself. But there he was accepting his mother’s assurance that a few wrinkles wouldn’t hurt his good coloring job. When he looked skeptical, she asked him who the prettiest woman in the world was. He said it was she. “Well,” she said, “someday I’ll be wrinkled just like that paper, but I’ll still be pretty, won’t I?” She pressed her forehead against his and said, “Won’t I?”