LOVER COME BACK_An Unbelievable But True Love Story

by Scott Hildreth

  “This?” she asked, pointing to her neck. “This is the sacrifice I’m willing to make to ensure the accuracy of his books.”

  He drank the rest of the milk from the bowl. After wiping his long beard, he grinned. “Better hope he don’t ever write one about murderin’ people.”

  I shot Teddy a laser sharp glare.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Funny you say that,” I said. “That’s coming up next.”

  Jess faced the living room. Her head and shoulders, once again, turned in unison. “He can be your guinea pig for that one,” she said. “I think I’ve sacrificed enough.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  I released Unstoppable, which was Mike Ripton’s contribution to the series of boxer books. The book was an immediate hit, climbing to number one in a matter of days. It’s sales quickly surpassed every book I’d written. I attributed its success partially to the wild sex scenes, but more so to the readers attaching themselves to the character’s belief system.

  He was a vigilante, of sorts. He stood up for the heroine in the original book, taking care of her abusive ex when he physically abused her. It seemed everyone adored Mike Ripton for his willingness to do what most would not. He stepped in when most men would step away.

  Immediately following the release of Unstoppable, I wrote a book of murder and mayhem. The manuscript was finished quickly, taking about ten days from beginning to end. While writing the story, Jess advised me that I wouldn’t be writing another book like it anytime soon. She claimed I turned into an emotional disaster while crafting the tale.

  I became so immersed in my characters, that I thought like them, ate like them, and even dressed like them. While writing Undefeated, I, no differently than the Hero, wore a hoodie everywhere I went.

  For twenty hours a day through the entire course of writing the manuscript, I wore it.

  Fully aware that I spent my writing time in character, I agreed with Jessica regarding the torturous novel.

  It was mid-morning, which was late for Jess to arrive. While seated at my perch pecking away on my next story in the boxer series, she walked in and flopped down on the couch behind me.

  She hadn’t kissed me.

  We had a rule that we started and ended our days with a kiss. Without exception. Additionally, we always went to bed at night only after telling each other I love you.

  Something was wrong.

  I peered over my shoulder. “Everything okay?”

  She was crying.

  I climbed down off my stool and sat down beside her. “What’s wrong, Baby?”

  Her lip was quivering. Upon realizing I was looking at her, she turned away, embarrassed. I lifted my finger to her chin and forced her to face me.

  Then, I kissed her.

  “You’ve got to talk to me, Baby. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

  She raised her left hand and extended her index finger. Then, she reached into her purse with her right hand. After fumbling around for a moment, she lifted her cupped hand from her purse.

  She held her clenched hand over my lap.

  I opened my hand.

  She dropped a pregnancy test into my palm. “I’m pregnant.”

  I was elated. My eyes quickly welled with tears. I shot up from my seat and held the plastic proof of the child we shared between us. “Is uhhm. Is this the one I get to keep?”

  She wiped her eyes, and then coughed out half a laugh. “What?”

  “This pregnancy test. Is it mine?” I asked excitedly. “Can I keep it?”

  She shrugged. “I guess.”

  I looked at the pen-like object. Two darkened lines filled the window. A smile formed on my face. “This is awesome.”

  She stood. “You’re not mad?”

  I scrunched my nose. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”

  “Because I’m pregnant.”

  “I told you when this started that I was committed to you and to this relationship. I told you I was ready to have kids with you.”

  “I thought that was a line of shit,” she said, wiping away tears as she spoke. “That you were just talking.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.” I kissed her, and then looked her in the eyes. “You’re not mad, are you?”

  Her eyes gleamed like diamonds. She shook her head. “Not at all. When I called you last night, I was hinting at this. Trying to, anyway. You didn’t give me the answers I wanted, so I thought you were going to be mad.”

  “You were talking in circles. I hadn’t slept in two days. You asked me if I was ready to treat you like my wife. I said yes. That wasn’t the answer you wanted?”

  She laughed and cried at the same time, smiling all the while. “I don’t know what I wanted. I was scared.”

  I led her into the bedroom by her hand and placed the pregnancy test in the top drawer of my dresser. Then, I walked into the living room and paused in the center of what we called the dance floor. It was a nine-foot by twelve-foot area of the loft that was marked by an ornamental rug.

  We often danced there during the middle of the day, always driven by nothing more than impulse.

  While Blind Pilot’s 3 Rounds and a Sound played, I pulled her close. Then, without instruction or a spoken word, we began to dance. She laid her head against my chest. I realized she was wearing the chevron top that she’d worn on the day of our first kiss, and I grinned.

  She was truly a remarkable woman. To share a child with her would be the greatest gift God could bestow upon us. My life was slowly becoming a dream, and I had her to thank for it.

  When the song ended, she raised her head.

  “What was that about?”

  “Baby Dance,” I said.

  She smiled. “What?”

  “It’s the baby dance.”

  She kissed me, and then laid her head against my chest again. “Let’s do it again.”

  We did just that, dancing once again like God was the only one watching.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  My three children blamed me, at least in part, for my trip to prison. Rightfully so, they were of the opinion that I didn’t have to abandon them. Despite their ages at the time of ten, nine, and eight, they saw it as a choice. They fully realized that I could have accepted the offer of probation and continued to live the life I was living.

  I was divorced from their mother at the time, but they looked forward to our weekends together, and to the time we were able to share on their breaks from school and during the summer.

  The boys, Alec and Derek, were thirteen months apart. Their sister, Erin, was a year older than the oldest boy, Alec.

  Erin spent most of her time reading, while the two boys spent their time at the lake behind the house, hunting for frogs, or playing basketball. They didn’t have a basketball hoop at their home, but they enjoyed playing on the one I had, often doing so until dark.

  My pride prevented me from accepting the government’s offer of probation. Admitting to guilt when I had no intention of commiting a crime wasn’t something I could ever do. As hard as it was to explain to them, if I had to repeat the process a thousand times over, I’d do the same thing, each and every time.

  After my release from prison, repairing my relationship with them began. The progression of that process proved to be a very slow one.

  I now looked at our pregnancy as an opportunity for me to do what I’d longed to do with them. Another chance at an opportunity for me to be the father to my children that my father had been to me.

  In the underground parking garage of my building, I sat in the passenger seat of a car I wasn’t allowed to drive and talked to my daughter, who was seated on the driver’s side. We’d just returned from her chauffeuring me to get a cup of coffee. A senior in high school and already enrolled in college, she was an intelligent young woman.

  She was also extremely perceptive, just like her father.

  She’d met Jessica on numerous occasions and seemed to like her. They got
along great, laughed with one another, and spent quality time together either talking or simply listening to music.

  Erin stayed with me frequently, often for several days at a time. During those days, Jessica was just as much in her life as I was. Despite what I’d witnessed of my daughter’s interactions with Jess, I wanted her to give me her opinion of Jess face-to-face.

  We sat in the SUV and talked privately about problems she was having in her relationship at the time. After the discussion was over, I took a long drag off my e-cigarette. After blowing the vapor out the window, I looked at Erin.

  “What do you think of my relationship with Jess?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want your opinion about it. No holds barred. Give it to me.”

  “She’s good for you,” she said.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Dad, it’s no secret that you’ve lived a pretty unhappy life. I’ve seen you in and out of a few relationships, and you’ve never been happy. The only thing that makes you happy is riding your motorcycle. Now you don’t even have one. But, you know what?”

  I grinned. “What’s that, Sis?”

  “I’ve never seen you this happy. Ever. I like seeing you like this. All I’ve ever wished for is that you could find happiness. Now, it looks like you’ve found it. I like her a lot dad, I really do.”

  Fighting back tears, I hugged her. “Thanks for your honesty.”

  “Are you going to ask her to marry you?” she asked, failing miserably at hiding her excitement.

  The thought of taking that step scared me. It was the kiss of death as far as I was concerned.

  “Not just yet,” I said. “I’m going to ask her to move in with me.”

  She raised her clenched fists. “Yaaay!”

  “Yay? Really?”

  Wearing an ear-to-ear grin, she nodded eagerly. “This makes me happy.”

  I smiled. “Me, too.”

  We spent the afternoon together, and then she went to see her boyfriend. Immediately following her departure, Jessica arrived. When she walked in, I was in the kitchen making a cup of coffee.

  “I got everything confirmed at the doctor,” she said. “I’m four weeks along, right now.”

  “Thirty-six to go,” I said.

  “How do you know how many weeks are left?”

  “I’ve been doing some reading. Brushing up on my baby skills.”

  “I’m so excited,” she said. “And, I’m starving.”

  She got a container of yogurt from the refrigerator and began to devour it. “I can’t eat enough.”

  I rubbed her stomach. “Good. Healthy mom, healthy baby.”

  She scrunched her nose. “I’m going to get so fat.”

  “Stop it. You won’t. Just take care of yourself, and everything will be fine.”

  She shoveled the yogurt into her mouth like she was starving. “What do you think about names?”

  “I like Joey, and Taylor, and names like—”

  She paused, the spoon inches from her lips. “What if it’s a girl?”

  “Those are girl names,” I said. “I like cute boy’s names for girls.”

  “What if it’s a boy?”

  “It better not be a boy.”

  She dragged the spoon around the edges of the empty plastic container. “Why?”

  “I want a girl. I’ve already raised two boys. I can tell you, they’re the shits. They develop tempers, they hold grudges.”

  She looked me up and down. “Oh, really? That’s a shocker.”

  “Go to hell, Jess.”

  “They’re just like their dad.”

  “It’s not that. It’s boys in general. You’ll see as Landon grows up. Oh.” I wagged my finger at her. “That reminds me of something.”

  She tossed the empty yogurt container in the trash. “What?”

  “I want us all to live together. I want all of you to move in.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Really?”

  “Yep. As soon as possible.”

  “Do you think you can handle that?”

  “I know I can handle it.”

  “Are you ready for it?” she asked.

  “I’ve been ready.”

  “You’ve been living alone for a long, long time.” She looked around the open loft. “It’s going to be a huge change.”

  “A change I look forward to. So, what do you say?”

  “The kids love it here. Landon’s going to have a heart attack. He loves you, you know.”

  “I love him right back,” I assured her. “So, is that a yes?”

  She bit into her lower lip and nodded. “I can’t wait.”

  “Give notice at your place and tell them you’re moving out. We can tell my parents this weekend. I already told Erin.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said she’s never seen me so happy, and that she’s excited.”

  The gleam in her eyes brightened. “That makes me happy.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Sorry I missed her,” she said. “What did she want?”

  “Boy problems.”

  “Don’t you dare go beating up a high school senior,” she snapped back.

  “It’s not that. Just regular stuff.”

  She grabbed another container of yogurt. “I’m going to eat this, and then I’m going to take a nap. I don’t have a client until ten.”

  “Ten is in an hour.”

  She put the yogurt up. “I’ll take a nap first. I can eat this on the way.”

  “The sixty seconds it takes you to eat one of those takes away from the nap quite a bit, huh?”

  She shrugged. “A minute is a minute.”

  I kissed her. “And, I want to spend all of my minutes with you.”

  She smiled. “You should write that in a book.”

  “I’ll make note of that.”

  While she took a nap, I looked at girl’s names on my phone. After highlighting a dozen, I copied the text and pasted it into my notepad. I peered through the doorway of what I called Teddy’s room, and imagined Landon and Lily playing in the five hundred square foot bedroom.

  Things were going to change, that was for sure. Stepping on Legos in the middle of the night. No longer having privacy. Changing diapers. Sleepless nights. Sharing a bathroom. A crying baby. Jess becoming an emotional wreck. No more sex. Arguments over what was going to be watched on television.

  I’d always perceived change as being a bad thing. On that day, however, I looked forward to every change that was headed in my direction.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Two weeks had passed since Jess and I discussed moving in together. We’d ironed out the details and decided to tell everyone of our plan. Seated at my usual spot on my parents’ loveseat with Jess at my side, I clapped my hands together. “I’ve got an announcement to make.”

  My father lowered his Kindle and peered over the top of it. “Jess is pregnant.”

  Although everyone would undoubtedly be able to determine the date of conception after the baby was born, we had decided not to announce the pregnancy until later. Jessica’s parents were extremely religious. They’d prefer we were married before we had children but could accept us living together. To them, us announcing our pregnancy prior to living together would equate to sinning, squared. Or, to the tenth power of sinning. Sinning would certainly be the crux of the problem.

  Jess looked at me, and I at her. I met my father’s gaze. “No. It’s something else.”

  “You’re getting hitched?”

  My mother raised her head. “Who’s getting hitched?”

  “Nobody, mother!”

  She scrunched her face. “I thought your dad said someone was getting hitched?”

  “We’re moving in together!” I shouted.

  “Oh, Good!” My mother exclaimed. “That’s so exciting. Where are you going to live?”

  “In the loft.”

  She covered her mouth with her hands. “You don’t have a yard. T
hat’s not good for the kids.”

  The thought of moving out didn’t set well with me. Although I’d been out of prison five years, the ATF’s methods of invading my private life still occupied my thoughts on a daily basis.

  “We’ll find some place with a yard one of these days.”

  “Don’t wait too long,” my mother said. “They won’t be kids forever.”

  “I’ll try to remember that, mother.”

  “Congratulations,” my father said. “When are you going to ditch the life of sin and get married?”

  “I’m sure that’ll happen one of these days,” I said. “As long as she doesn’t fuck up.”

  “Scott David Hildreth,” my mother whined. “That’s enough of that talk.”

  I looked at my father and raised my brows. “I’m with you. I think it’s selective memory loss,” I said, although I meant selective hearing loss.

  “What?” my mother asked in an elevated tone.

  “I said Jess is secretly a macramé boss!”

  “Macramé makes such great pretty wall hangings,” she said.

  I did a mental eye roll and shifted my gaze to my father. “That’s the week’s news.”

  “How’s the writing?”

  “Good. Writing another boxer book.”

  “How many you doing in that series?”

  “As many as it takes,” I responded. “Four is my guess. I hope everything keeps going as good as it is right now. That last one sold like gangbusters.”

  “Ripton’s book?”

  I nodded as I pulled my phone from my pocket. After bringing up my Amazon sales page for the previous month, I handed my father the phone. “Have a look at that.”

  He studied the phone for a moment and then looked at me. “What’s this include?”

  “The first thirty days of income from that book.”

  “Jesus jumped up Christ!” he shouted. “Seriously?”

  I gave a prideful nod. “Yep.”

  “Good Lord,” he said, handing me the phone.

  “What?” Jess asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Ripton’s book sold pretty good, that’s all.”

  “Oh.”

  “Get a place where those kids can enjoy themselves,” my father said. “That’s paramount to their successes.”