Barbara's mouth works silently, like a goldfish drowning in air.
"Thirty seconds and I'm calling the crime lab."
"Alright, alright!" she snaps, "Give me that."
Barbara snatches the warrant, signs it, and thrusts it back.
Hart examines it, folds it, pockets it. "Very good." She pulls out her radio. "Okay, warrant's been served, everybody in the pool."
The two crime scene vans and two patrol cars roll down the street, one of the squad cars blocking the driveway while the others swarm the road. Several of the neighbors have emerged from their houses.
"You said you wouldn't call them if I signed!"
"I said I would call them if you didn't. I never said I wouldn't if you did. Did I?"
She glances at me, and I shrug.
"Did I?"
She glances at Becky. "What about you, sweetheart, you hear me say that?"
Becky came down the stairs and stood just behind Bill while no one was watching. She shakes her head.
Barbara, red faced, clenches her teeth on a scream and hooks her fingers like she plans to rip out my eyes. Or maybe my throat. Hart steps between us.
"Now now, let's keep it civil."
"Can I go with Mom now?" Becky asks.
"Can I see that?" Hart asks.
She scans the family court summons and sighs.
"Sorry, Cassandra. This is pretty clear, you can't take her until this matter is resolved."
"We just have to wait this out," I tell Becky. "It'll be okay. I'm handling this."
Barbara snarls.
"I want to go now," Becky sniffs.
Veronica crouches in front of her. "Hey there, kid. You seem like a good sport. Want to see my taser?"
"Hart," I growl.
"I'm joking," she says, rolling her eyes.
Becky looks at her levelly.
"Barbara keeps a thumb drive in the Louis Vuitton purse in her closet."
Hart ruffles her hair. "Good job, kid."
Barbara hisses in fury.
"Babs," I say, "Shut up. Hart, I can still give my kid a hug before I go?"
"Doesn't say anything about no contact in the order."
Becky runs past Bill and throws her arms around me. I hug her back hard.
"It won't be long, I promise. Just a little while."
"Okay," Hart says, "Cassandra, I hate to be the bad guy, but Barbara and I need to have a conversation, you feel me?"
"Yeah," I say. "Have a good day, Babs. I'll be seeing you."
Her growl chases me out of the house. I wave to Becky, get in my car, and drive across town to the diner where Tyler is waiting for me.
When I arrive, Tyler is seated in a corner booth with a man who could be Tyler in thirty years. The two of them are holding a conversation over coffee, until Tyler sees me and stands. He pulls me into a chase hug and we kiss lightly before I sit down, snuggling against his side. He puts an arm around me in that defensive, "Dad, this is my girlfriend" kind of way.
"This is Cassandra, Dad."
He looks at me and his big handlebar moustache twitches. He looks like a ripped Teddy Roosevelt.
"You look a lot younger than I expected.
"I get that a lot."
"So you and my son."
"Yeah, me and your son."
"Me and her," Tyler adds.
"Tyler's been telling me a lot about you, how you met, what things are like, what kind of person you are. I needed to see you for myself. Nobody could ever live up to the story he tells."
I actually blush. "Well, I'm sure anyone I told about him would feel the same."
"He said you were expecting some legal troubles."
A chill rides up my legs. I glance at Tyler.
"About your daughter."
"Yes," I say, bewildered. "I just got served today."
"Have it with you?"
I pull the folded summons from the pocket of my windbreaker and hand it to him. He skims it.
"Mind if I keep this?"
"What for?" I blink, too surprised to moderate my tone.
He smiles thinly.
"Tyler tell you what I do?"
I shrug. “He said you own a car dealership. Why?"
He glances at Tyler, then at me, then at Tyler again.
"That's underselling it a bit. I own a network of car dealerships, six in this state, plus three franchising corporations and shares in a real estate development company. I was smart about my money, thanks to my dear late wife. Lucky to make it out without any concussions too from what they say now."
"Make it out of what?" I say, lamely.
He thumps his big chest. "Lady, where do you think the boy gets it from? I didn't always sell cars. I was on a pro team for sixteen years. Tyler's mom was one of the secretaries."
"Oh," I say.
Tyler laughs slightly.
"She really had no idea?" he says.
"No idea of what?"
"Cassandra, honey, we don't have to worry about a place to stay or what you're going to do or whatever," Tyler says.
I stare dully at him.
"Well, you almost did," his father says. "I was going to cut him off if he doesn't graduate. Which, as I understand it, he almost didn't because of you, but also only will because of you. I'm not sure how I feel about that."
I swallow, hard. "I, uh, ah, that is—"
"We've been talking and things between me and him are pretty well smoothed over," he adds quickly. "He finally learned how to act like a man."
Tyler kisses my cheek.
"Now this," he says, hefting the custody summons. "You just let me worry about this. I have some of the best lawyers in the state on retainer here. Now they mostly handle corporate law, tenant law, that sort of thing, but you know how they are, every lawyer knows every other lawyer, and you have my word that you'll have your own legal dream team in that courtroom making it clear that you are a phenomenal mother, which Tyler tells me you are."
"I...I don't know what to say," I blurt out, scrubbing at my eyes.
"Well, seeing as you're going to be my daughter by marriage and Tyler is going to be that girl's stepfather, it's the least I can do. I just hope you two work on more."
"Oh, you don't need to worry about that at all," Tyler says. "Not at all."
I glance from one to the other and crinkle my nose. Did he just promise his dad he'd plow me?
"Let's get lunch," the older man says. "Oh, forgive my manners, Cassandra. I'm Jim. Chicken fried steak is damn good here, and we need to talk about the wedding."
Tyler offers his hand, and I take it. It's cool for the end of August, and we're in the shade under a park pavilion. Despite the bulk and restriction of my wedding dress, I could fly. I am now officially Mrs. Cassandra Sinclair. This time around I decided to take my husband's name, mostly because I could sense he really wanted it—even if he never pushed me or even really asked. I just knew from the look in his eyes when someone asked me the question in his presence.
He pulls me in, and we begin to dance. Tyler's surprisingly big family has filled in the guest list. Almost no one from the college came, but I'm not surprised. Faculty, that is. Something odd happened.
Word got out. I started getting emails, forwarded from my faculty address. Students, mostly, sending their regards. No one knew why I quit suddenly and left, but I think everyone has guessed by now. A few of the students even showed up for the wedding at my invitation—Alyssa and her fiancée, some others. A handful. I was never a popular rock star professor. I have no illusions about that. The people that respected me are here, though, and the people that matter.
I now have full custody of my daughter Rebecca. My ex-husband Bill filed for divorce from Barbara and left her father's law firm after federal and state charges were filed against her. Her father's colleagues and her total lack of a criminal record ended up with her on probation after paying a hefty fine that necessitated she sell their fancy house and all her SUVs, and the last I heard they were fighting a bitt
er divorce battle over such things as Bill's motorcycle collection. I have a restraining order against her, but I don't have much worry for that.
When all this started, I had no idea I'd end up close friends with a police detective. Hart is standing off to the side, the only woman who showed up to the ceremony in pants, taking pulls from a hip flask while she taps the bouquet against her thigh. I didn't aim to throw it at her, I promise.
Tyler is taking a year and will be starting law school the fall after that. I thought about applying for a certificate to teach high school, but if I ever go back to the classroom, it'll be a while. While I figure out what to do, with Tyler's support, I've been working on a book, just a little project to keep my mind organized.
Ned Ryerson is here. Relations between him and Tyler are still icy, but I manage to get them to at least talk to each other and I think today went far towards helping smooth things over. Ryerson will retire after the coming school year.
As we sway to the music for our first dance, Tyler just stares at me, thunderstruck.
"Did you ever think this would happen when you met me?" I ask him in a soft voice.
"Yes."
"You're lying."
"Well, I knew it would happen. I just didn't know I knew."
I laugh, and he joins me, and all is right with the world.
The End
Thank you for reading!
Thanks for reading Stuck With You!
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Also by Abigail Graham
Unexpected Bride
Benched
Bad Boy Next Door
Paradise Falls
His Princess
Player’s Princess
With Vanessa Waltz
Riding Wood
About the Author
Abigail Graham is a former English teacher. She published her first book in 2014, a serial entitled Paradise Falls. Since then she has published ten novels, with more on the way!
Stuck With You Page 17