LOVER COME BACK_An Unbelievable But True Love Story

by Scott Hildreth

  Hearing her blubber on the phone that night crushed me.

  He didn’t touch her, nor did he threaten her. He simply argued with her about the children, when they could or couldn’t be dropped off, and at what point in time they needed to be picked up. Furthermore, he was a drug user and a drunk, and he had a gun with him in his car. She feared for the children, for their safety, and for her own if she opposed him.

  In the picture or out of the picture – at that point – no longer mattered to me. Her former lover was creating problems with her, the children, and in turn, me.

  The temper I desperately tried to keep at bay exposed itself. When I got off the phone with Jess, I paced the floor of the loft. Anger leeched from my pores. The more time passed, the clearer it became. It was out of my control. At that moment, there was nothing I could do to fix what I felt was broken. The anger soon turned to rage.

  Furious, I called Chico.

  “Got a little issue, Brother,” I said. “Something that needs taken care of.”

  “You alright?”

  “No.”

  I could hear the fellas in the background. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for them to meet at the clubhouse on Friday nights in the winter months to barbeque or simply hang out and drink beer.

  “Who do I need to cut?” he asked with a laugh.

  “Jess’ ex,” I said dryly.

  “What the fuck happened?” he asked, his tone elevated with anger.

  I’d previously explained the problems Jess had with her ex to the fellas, and what she’d endured throughout their relationship. I further explained that he was out of the picture, and that as long as he didn’t reappear, I’d do my best to forget it ever happened. Although by Kansas law he had no legal right to see the children, he was their father.

  “He reappeared.”

  “Good or bad?”

  “With him, it’s all bad. Just seeing him makes her shake. She curls up into a ball for a few days afterward. You know how women are after something like that.”

  “When can we talk?” he asked. “In private?”

  “Clubhouse?” I asked. “Tomorrow?”

  “Miñana it is, ‘Mano. I’ll bring the Big O.”

  Big O was our six-foot-eight gentle giant. He was muscle from head to toe, but not the typical meathead from the gym. He was quiet and had a keen sense of humor. When it was time to administer an ass whipping, he promptly transformed from a joke-telling gentleman to a monster.

  “Probably a good idea,” I said.

  I saw Jess later that night for a few minutes. She wasn’t her normal self, nor was I. Seeing her in such pain wasn’t something I was willing to do ever again. I knew if I must, I would sacrifice myself to give her a moment’s relief.

  The next morning, upon waking, I called my father.

  “Saw you got another one published,” he said. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks, Pop. I didn’t call about books, though.”

  “Just finished my second cup of coffee, and I’ve got a belly full of bacon and eggs. I’m all ears,” he said.

  “Remember the guy I told you about that used to see the girl I was seeing a while back? The girl that had the gun put in her mouth on the first date?”

  “How could I forget a fucktard like that? Yeah, I remember you telling me about her.”

  “Well, I’m seeing her again. For real this time.”

  “This isn’t about her, is it?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You started the conversation asking me about him. What’s going on?”

  “He’s raised his ugly head.”

  He cleared his throat. “Didn’t touch the girl, did he?”

  “Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”

  He exhaled. “What’s your plan?”

  “Don’t have one yet.”

  “Bullshit,” he snapped back. “I raised you, Son. I know better. What’s your plan?”

  I forced an audible sigh. “I’m headed to meet Chico and The Big O at the clubhouse.”

  “Damn it, Son. I don’t know that I can make it through another three years of you being in the joint.”

  “So, what do I do?” I barked. “Stand down? Seriously, Pop? Would you do that?”

  The phone fell silent. “I doubt it.”

  I laughed. “You doubt it?”

  “I’d probably start with feeding him his teeth,” he said.

  “Sounds about right,” I replied.

  “Cocksucker puts his hands on a woman, he needs to be taught a lesson,” he said, his tone rising as he spoke. “God damn it, Son. Be careful.”

  “Will do.”

  “I love you, Son.”

  “I love you, Pop.”

  “Keep me apprised of the situation?”

  “Sure will.”

  “Bring her by, will ya? You mom and I would like to meet her.”

  “Will do, Pop.”

  “Remember what I said,” he said.

  “Which part?”

  “Man puts his hands on a woman, he needs to be taught a lesson.”

  “Been hearing that one since I was a kid,” I said. “Hard to forget.”

  “Talk to you soon,” he said.

  “That’s my plan,” I responded.

  In an hour, I was at the clubhouse. Chico, King, and the Big O were all drinking coffee. The flesh surrounding Chico’s eyes was dark and swollen from exhaustion. The pile of clothes in the corner gave hint that he’d been sleeping in the clubhouse for a few days.

  I explained the situation to them, including the problems that Jess had had in the past. I further explained that her ex carried a gun under the seat of his car. Big O hadn’t met Jess yet, but it didn’t matter to a man like him. He was a protector and took pride in stepping in when most men would step away.

  “Chico and I will let you know what happens,” Big O said.

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Excuse me? I’m coming with.”

  His eyes went thin. “No, you’re not.”

  “The fuck you say,” I snapped back. “This is my responsibility.”

  He folded his arms over his chest and shot me a stern look. “Your responsibility’s the girl. If you come with us, you might end up in the joint. Again. You’ve been there twice already. The next time could be life. You take care of the girl, and we’ll take care of this.”

  “Goddamn it O,” I pleaded.

  He grinned a sly grin and flexed his eighteen-inch bicep. “I got this.”

  I looked at Chico.

  “Tell her I want to fuck her neighbor,” he said with a laugh. “And that I said hi.”

  I looked at King. He nodded toward The Big O. “He’s got a point. Next time, they’ll keep ya.”

  I shifted my eyes to O, hoping he’d reconsider. “I’d be more comfortable if you’d just let me come with. I’ll stay out at the street. You guys can—”

  He spit out a laugh. “Stay out at the street? That’d be the day.” He slapped his open palm against my bicep, all but knocking me over in the process. “Like I said. I. Got. This.”

  Filled with emotion, I bit into my quivering bottom lip and gave a nod. “Appreciate ya, Brother.”

  He looked at Chico. “Ready?”

  Chico gave a toothy grin. “Let’s roll.”

  What happened was never discussed. Big O simply laughed when I asked, saying he didn’t want me to be a conspirator. I do know, however, that starting on that day, Jess was never once contacted by her ex, nor were the children at risk from the dangers he’d exposed them to in the past.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jessica’s children both had birthdays in the last two months. The boy, four, and the girl, three, were adorable. They were, however, products of being raised in a broken home and not having a father figure in their lives.

  Any request she had of them was met with a scowl, and immediately followed with a no. While we were seated at a restaurant’s booth, waiting for our food order, they climbed over the backs of the s
eats and into the adjoining dining area.

  “Get back here,” Jessica said.

  Landon turned around, looked her in the eye, and responded. “No.”

  “Landon!”

  “No!”

  Lily soon followed, climbing beneath the booth and crawling toward where Landon was.

  Jess looked at me. Clearly embarrassed, tears welled in her eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Is this partially because I’m here?” I asked.

  “No,” she said. “This is how they act. I told them to be on their best behavior. This is pretty much it.”

  I blew out a long breath. “It can be fixed, but it’ll take time. Time and discipline.”

  “Not beating them?”

  I laughed. “Absolutely not. Children, in many respects, need to feel like they’re in charge. You give them choices, let them make the decision, and then let them see how their choices affect them. Additionally, there has to be a set of rules that need to be followed. Boundaries, if you will. If they follow, there’s reward. If they do not, there are consequences.”

  “What kind of consequences?”

  “Time out. Losing snacks. Taking something they feel they’re entitled to. In time, they’ll realize they have boundaries. Now?” I pointed at Landon, who was taking the silverware from someone’s table. “Now, they have none.”

  “I’m embarrassed,” she said.

  “Don’t be.” I leaned over the table and kissed her. “We can fix this.”

  We cut our meal short, choosing to leave before the children had a chance to cause Jess much more grief. Disappointed, the children screamed at the top of their lungs as we left the restaurant. As we each carried one of them in our arms through the foyer, a familiar voice caused me to stop and turn around.

  “Pop?” Alec asked. “Is that you?”

  With Landon flailing in my arms, I faced my eldest son. “What are you doing here?”

  “Going to a movie with the guys.”

  I gave a nod toward his three friends. “How’s it going, fellas?”

  They all responded in the affirmative. Alec looked at Landon, who continued to kick and flap his arms.

  I shifted my eyes toward Jess. “Alec, this is Jess. Jess, this is my eldest son, Alec.”

  Jess waved. “Nice to meet you. Sorry, they’re a little wild tonight.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Alec said. He then glanced at Landon and grinned at me. “Good luck with that.”

  With a hint of sarcasm in my tone, I responded. “Thanks.”

  We took the children to a movie. They acted like angels. Afterward, I stopped at a convenience store to get a drink. When the children came inside, they ran through the aisles grabbing chips and snacks off the racks. They then demanded that they be purchased for them.

  Jessica reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet.

  I shook my head. “Tell them to put the stuff back.”

  “They’ll scream all the way home.”

  “Then they’ll scream all the way home. It starts here, and it starts now. Children who act like that do not get rewarded. It’s ten o’clock at night. The last thing either of them need is a bag of Cheetos or a Mountain Dew.”

  Reluctantly, she put the merchandise back. The children, just as she predicted, screamed all the way home.

  It was the last night, however, that any such thing ever happened.

  Chapter Thirty

  A few weeks had passed since the incident at the restaurant. Landon and Lily realized that things were different. It seemed they attributed the changes to my presence in their lives. I realized discipline was the only way to get them to listen, but felt like the bad guy, nonetheless.

  I gestured to the living area of the loft. “You can play here.” I then waved toward my desk. “But you cannot play over there.”

  “Why?” Landon asked.

  “Because I said so,” I responded.

  He glared at me. Moments later, he was climbing on my desk. I promptly picked him up, carried him to the corner, and sat him down.

  “Sit there for ten minutes,” I said, using my voice of authority. “If you get on the desk again, you won’t get a cookie when we visit my parents later.”

  It was the day that Jess and the kids were going to meet my parents for the first time. They had no real reason to be, but both he and Lily were excited.

  He thrust his face into his hands and pouted. In ten minutes, I lifted him to his feet. I then lowered myself to his level and placed my hands on his shoulders. “Go play. Remember, not on my desk, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “That seemed to work well,” Jess said.

  I grinned. “It’s proven to be pretty effective.”

  “With who?” she asked.

  “My first three children.”

  “I keep forgetting.”

  We drove the thirty miles to my parent’s home without incident. When we walked through the door, the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies hit me like a brick. It was Sunday, and my mother always made cookies on Sundays. She loved to bake and did so daily, preparing breads, pastries, and other snacks for my father.

  My father’s health had deteriorated significantly over the years. Suffering from congestive heart failure, he spent the majority of his time in his recliner reading. Oxygen tubes ran along the floor from a machine to his nose. The administration of it allowed him to get up and walk throughout the small house without much trouble.

  Doing much more was no longer possible.

  He pushed himself from his chair. Looking down at the children, he smiled. “You must be Landon and Lily,” he said.

  “How do you know my name?” Landon asked.

  “I know a lot of things,” my father said. “I’m pretty tricky.”

  “Do you know magic tricks?” Landon asked.

  “A few,” my father responded.

  My father produced a quarter and then made it disappear. It was a slight of hand trick he’d performed a million times with me when I was a child. He then reached toward Landon’s face, acting as if he’d plucked the quarter from behind his ear.

  Upon seeing it, Landon’s eyes shot wide. “Wow.”

  My father handed him the quarter, and then did the trick on Lily. As the children admired their quarters, my mother invited them into the kitchen to get a cookie.

  My father looked at Jess. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too,” Jess said.

  We sat and talked until my mother returned.

  “Where are the kids?” Jess asked nervously.

  “Watching television and eating cookies in the dining room,” my mother responded.

  “Thanks for asking if it was okay for them to have a cookie,” I said in a sarcastic tone.

  She looked at Jess. “It’s okay, isn’t it?’

  Jess smiled. “Sure.”

  My mother looked at me and stuck out her tongue.

  After introducing Jess to my mother, I stood. “I’m getting a cookie.”

  Jess stood. “Me, too.”

  My father looked at Jess, and then at me. After alternating glances between us a few times, he fixed his gaze on Jess.

  “You either make him look tall, or he makes you look short. I can’t decide which.”

  “He’s really tall,” Jess said.

  “He’s not that tall,” he responded.

  “He is,” she said.

  “His brother’s wife is four-ten.”

  “I’m a lot taller than that,” Jess said.

  “What,” my father said. “Five-two?”

  “Three. I’m five three.”

  “Bullshit,” my father barked.

  “No, really. I am.”

  “In a one-inch heel, maybe.”

  “No, really.”

  “Anita!” he bellowed. “Grab the tape measure.”

  “What?” she asked. “Did you say something?”

  My mother’s hearing was terrible at
best, but she refused to wear her hearing aid.

  “The. Tape. Measure.” He gestured toward the kitchen. “Go. Get. It.”

  “The tape measure?”

  He raised his brows in an exaggerated fashion. “Before I die of heart failure if you don’t mind.”

  She gave him the same look she always gave on her way to the kitchen. She returned in a moment with the rule. “Here it is.”

  “Measure Jess. See. How. Tall. She. Is!” he bellowed.

  “Okay!” she shouted.

  “Take off your shoes,” My father demanded, pointing toward Jess’ feet. “And get your five-foot-two ass into the kitchen.”

  I’d warned Jess of my father and his quirky manner of being. He wasn’t putting on a show for her, it was simply how he acted.

  Jess played right along. She kicked off her shoes and took a few strides across the floor. “Five-three.”

  “I’ll kiss your little tan ass if you are,” he said.

  “David!” my mother hollered.

  My father looked at me and winked. “She always hears what I don’t want her to.”

  I followed them into the kitchen. With Jessica’s back against the very same doorframe that I measured my children as they grew up, Jess arched her back. My mother donned her glasses, stretched out the tape measure, and stared at the numbers.

  “I’m feeling faint,” my father shouted from the other room. “You better hurry.”

  “What did he say?” my mother asked.

  “He’s dying. He needs you to hurry.”

  “Tell him to be quiet.”

  “Mom says to—”

  “I heard her,” he shouted.

  “Sixty-two,” my mother said.

  I peered around the doorframe and into the living room. “Five-two.”

  He snapped his fingers. “I knew it!”

  Jess looked at the tape measure as my mother reeled it back into the receiver as if something might be wrong with it.

  “Jess!” my father shouted.

  She peeked around the corner. “Yes?”

  “Bring me some cookies, will ya?”

  “Sure,” she said with a smile.

  “You sure you can reach them?” he asked playfully. “If not, there’s a stool the kids use. It’s beside the desk.”

  While he chuckled at his own joke, Jess got him a handful of cookies. It was rewarding seeing the progress Jessica had made since the day we’d met. Her playful banter with my father wasn’t something I would have witnessed eighteen months prior.