Page 81 of Just My Luck
I reached forward, gripping his rock-hard biceps. “Abel.” My voice was a harsh whisper.
A warning.
A plea.
His nostrils flared as he tensed with indecision. “You stay away from my wife and kids. If I so much as hear a whisper of your name in this town, you’re a fucking dead man.”
Through the doorway, Amy King and another police officer entered. “Outtatowner Police Department. What seems to be the trouble, cousin?” Amy’s sharp and assessing eyes took in the tense situation despite her casual tone.
Jared pointed a finger at Abel. “This man—a felon, mind you—just threatened my life. You heard it!” He gestured wildly around him. “You all heard it.”
Amy shrugged. “I didn’t hear a thing.” She looked past Jared to Bug. “Did you?”
“I think Abel was just giving the man directions out of town.” Bug smiled and lifted a shoulder. “At least, that’s what I heard.”
Amy’s lips pursed. “Makes perfect sense to me.” She gestured toward her partner, then looked at Jared. “If you’ll come with us, sir.”
Surrounded by Outtatowner residents, Jared must have known he was fucked. With fury in his eyes, he slinked forward as the other officer escorted him outside.
Amy patted Abel’s shoulder. “Keep your cool, cuz. We’ll take out the trash.”
Abel offered only a terse nod.
“Can we go home, Mama?” Tillie’s voice cracked as she looked up at me.
“Yeah.” My laugh was watery as I gestured toward my dirty hands and mud-streaked thigh. “Look at me. I’m a mess.”
My hands found my little boy’s face. “Are you okay, Benny? I know that was unexpected.”
My son’s shoulders straightened. “I’m okay. I’m not afraid when Abel can keep us safe.”
My heart rolled as I looked at my husband. “Okay. Let’s go home.”
Once we were back home,I encouraged the kids to play in the backyard so I could slip into the bedroom to have a private conversation with their therapist. She assured me that kids areresilient and, in the end, we kept them safe and reassured them. Still, the plan was to have additional sessions later in the week to ensure the kids were coping with the newest development with my ex-husband.
My second call was to the Remington County Courthouse to register my protective order in the state of Michigan. I was still beating myself up over the oversight. I had assumed that my protective order would stretch beyond state lines. A quick Google search assured me that it would be enforced—I only had to be sure the state was aware of it.
I walked through the rest of the afternoon like a wooden doll. I hugged the kids, smiled though I felt like crying, and did everything I could to create a calm and peaceful evening. When it came to bedtime tuck-ins, I inhaled sharply, pushing past the sting in my nose and hoping to make it through without crying.
I gently knocked on Tillie’s door before entering. She smiled up sweetly from beneath her covers. I returned the smile and sat next to her on the bed. When I reached my arm across her to give her a hug, I felt a hard object, hidden beneath her comforter.
“What’s this?” I asked, patting the hard lump.
Tillie smiled and whispered, “I was doodling.”
“Can I see?”
Tillie sat up, pulling her thick sketch pad out from under the covers. She tipped the page toward me. “It’s us.”
Tears filled my eyes. It was us. In the cartoon style she’d adopted lately, I could clearly make out Ben, Tillie, me, and Abel. Side by side we smiled up from her drawing—all except for Abel. She hadn’t drawn him smiling, but rather perfectly captured a tiny, reluctant smirk at the corner of his mouth.
I shook my head. “You amaze me. This is so cool.” My fingertips floated over the details she’d incorporated.
“Mama, are you and Abel married?”
I searched her face, but she didn’t look me in the eye. Rather, her gaze was fixed on the drawing.
I exhaled. She deserved the truth. “Yes, baby. Abel and I decided to get married to help each other out. It’s a little complicated... kind of adult things.”