Hold On

“Get ready for the battle of your life,” she warned.

“Already won that,” I fired back. Then I gave her what she needed to try to find it in her to do the right thing. “You can work with me to help you build a relationship with my son, or you can work against me. You work against me, I won’t have to do anything—Ethan will tell you, a judge, he’ll shout it at the top of his lungs that he wants nothing to do with you. And if that’s what my boy wants, that’s what I’ll get for my boy. If you care about him and want him in your life and as a part of your family, you have this window of opportunity to do that the right way. Don’t fuck it up.”

“No judge is gonna let a boy be raised by a woman who’s got no problem usin’ the f-word,” Peggy sniped.

“No judge in this whole fuckin’ country is gonna take my boy away from me,” I returned.

“You’re livin’ a fantasy,” she spat.

“I’m not the one who’s willing to commit the crime of kidnapping,” I said softly.

Her torso swung back, her eyes got wide, and even Trent was smart enough to separate himself from Peggy at this juncture, this bit of news being shared in front of a cop. He shifted away from her side.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “You threatened me. I took action. I’ll keep doin’ that since I got friends who’re good at findin’ out shit, and I’ll find out so much shit about you, about Trent, I’ll bury you. Nothing…not…one…thing is gonna be forced on my kid that he doesn’t want. I’ll go to the mat for that, Peggy. I’ll die for that. I’ll do anything for that. Mark my words, you battle me, you will not win. I’ll fight you every day of my life. I’ll spend every dime I have. And I won’t go down swingin’ because I will not ever quit fightin’.”

Only the barest hint of hesitation crossed her features before she leaned in and hissed, “He needs saved from you.”

Shit, there it was.

“That, that right there,” I returned instantly, “tells me precisely what kind of woman you are and what I gotta protect my boy from.”

That seemed to confuse her.

“We’re his salvation,” she decreed.

Oh my God.

Was she crazy?

“You bring harm to his mother in any way,” Merry entered our conversation, “he’ll think you’re sent straight from hell.”

Trent got close to his wife again, grabbing her arm.

“Peg, let’s go.”

She stared at Merry. Then she shifted her eyes and glared at me.

“Peg, babe, kids are in the car. Let’s go,” Trent urged.

“Get an attorney,” she warned me quietly.

“Whatever,” I replied.

She kept glaring.

Trent tugged cautiously on her arm.

She turned her glare to him, tore her arm from his hold, and stomped her ass to their minivan.

Trent gave me an unhappy look. He gave one to Merry. After that, he followed her.

We stood where we were as they got in, but we didn’t stand the way we were standing when they were with us.

Merry threw his arms around my shoulders.

That felt great.

I slid my hand around his waist.

He tucked me tight into his side.

I fit myself tighter.

And that felt even better.

We watched Trent fire up their minivan and we kept watching as they pulled away, our heads turning to keep them in sight as they drove down the street.

“Bad news, brown eyes. That church lady is fuckin’ crazy,” Merry muttered when the brake lights on the minivan lit at the stop sign at the end of the street.

“The Lord giveth great dinners with handsome cops, followed by fabulous orgasms and a mom gettin’ to tell her boy he gets to eat pizza with a good man he looks up to,” I replied, and as I did, Merry looked down at me and I looked up at him. “Then the Lord taketh away by sending a batshit-crazy church lady to stand in my yard, throw down with me, and, while she’s doin’ it, say words like ‘salvation.’”

Merry started smiling.