Take Me Home by Nancy Herkness

when she realized Holly was pleading for the china, not a child.
    “What the hell are you doing here?” Frank demanded, lowering his arm and staring blearily at Claire. “You weren’t supposed to be here tonight. Holly told me you wouldn’t be. She lied to me again, that slut!”
    “I’m just here to help out while she’s sick,” Claire said, inching toward where her sister cowered in an overstuffed armchair.
    “Why the fuck didn’t you stay in New York with your stuck-up husband and all your stuck-up friends? I told Holly not to let you come here, but she didn’t listen to me. We don’t need you messing up our lives.”
    He seemed to have forgotten that he was messing up his own life. He also seemed to have forgotten the china lady in his hand, much to Claire’s relief.
    “I’m not trying to mess up anything,” she said calmly.
    “The hell you aren’t, you damned bitch.” He staggered before bracing his legs wide apart. “I come home to see my children, and my wife tells me she’s already been to a lawyer. Have you fucked him yet, you whore?” he snarled, turning to address his wife. Moving his head upset his balance again, and he grabbed at the mantel with his free hand. “Then she accuses me of having a girlfriend. You ungrateful bitch, I work my ass off to put a roof over your head and food on the table, so I deserve some appreciation every now and then. I can’t get it from you, that’s for sure.”
    “That’s enough of that kind of talk,” Tim said in a firm voice Claire suspected he used to deal with difficult pet owners.
    “What? Who the fuck are you?” Frank asked, swaying as he turned toward Tim. “It’s a goddamned party here, ain’t it? Did you come to screw my wife too? Or are you screwing the New York bitch?” Frank’s face contorted into an ugly leer. “Or both of them together? Wait, you’re the one whose wife shot herself. You must be a real bastard to drive a woman to that.”
    Claire flinched and looked at Tim. His expression didn’t waver, nor did his slow but steady progress toward Holly’s drunken husband.
    Claire took advantage of Tim’s diversion to scoot over to Holly. Her sister had one hand cupped around her left cheek, and tears streaked what Claire could see of her face.
    “Frank, why don’t you and I take this outside?” Tim said.
    “Do you think I’m crazy?” Frank said. “You’re a goddamned giant. You stay away from me, or I’ll break this whore’s ugly statue.” He turned it upside down and squinted at the bottom. “Lauren, that’s its name. My wife loves this thing more than me. Don’t you, sweetheart?”
    “No, Frank. I’ve always loved you.” Holly’s voice quavered, but she didn’t stop talking. “I’ve never looked at another man. You know that.”
    “Liar!” Frank screamed, raising his arm and hurling the figurine straight at Holly and Claire.
    Claire tried to push Holly out of the way, but her sister resisted, lifting her hands to catch the flying statue. It bounced off her fingers and struck Claire on the cheek before hitting the wall and shattering into pieces.
    Claire bit off a cry that was as much shock as pain, and Holly shrieked, “Oh my God, no!”
    “I’m okay,” Claire whispered to her sister, hoping not to provoke Frank further.
    “I think it’s time for you to leave,” Tim said. His voice had swelled in volume and held an undertone of menace.
    Frank seemed abashed by the havoc he had wreaked. He stood with his mouth slightly open, still braced against the fireplace.
    Tim took another step toward him.
    “You can’t throw me out of my own house,” Frank said, straightening and pushing away from the mantel.
    Fear flooded through Claire as she saw him glance at the rack of fireplace tools. She willed him not to pick one up and go after Tim.
    “I wouldn’t bet on that,” Tim said, dragging Frank’s attention away from the potential weapons.
    Claire watched in fascination as Tim transformed into an