I was going to make us work, even if I had to do all the work myself.
I’d failed her by not listening to her, not trying to figure out why she hadn’t wanted to donate her bone marrow. I had pressured her to the point that she felt like she had no other choice than to leave me. I wouldn’t fail her again.
I’d fight until there was nothing left of me.
“Well then, I guess we’ll head straight to the lawyer’s office. Sound good to you?” I asked.
Landry sighed. “Sure.”
Lips twitching, I passed all of the restaurants in town and headed downtown straight to the lawyer’s office that we used—I had no clue why we didn’t use one closer, but I hadn’t known any lawyers except for the one my dad had used.
Since we had no children and I gave her everything, Landry had drawn up divorce papers online. I’d gone along with her. We had the final decrees sent to my uncle Jimmy, also my dad’s lawyer after it was drawn up.
I had never used a lawyer for anything but that divorce in my whole life. Now I was regretting that because I should’ve found someone closer. Certainly closer than four hours.
And I wished that I had never had to use a lawyer at all. There was that.
Arriving downtown, I sighed when I didn’t see any parking spaces that were big enough.
“You’re going to have to park in BFE,” she murmured.
Bum-fuck-Egypt.
I rolled my eyes and did just that, not caring in the least until I got out of the truck and realized that I was going to have to walk three blocks to get where I needed to go.
She saw my hesitation as I rounded her side of the truck and opened her door for her.
“Do you want me to drop you off?” she offered.
I snorted and held out my hand, which she took.
The feel of her tiny, soft hand in my big, rough one made my heart hammer.
Something so small shouldn’t make such a big hole in my heart, should it?
But it did.
There was so much I missed.
Holding her hand. Brushing the hair back off her face. Pulling her body in tight to mine. Pressing myself up against her ass as she bent over the sink to brush her teeth. The way she used to leave her long hair on the shower glass.
Hell, I even missed the way she swore up and down that she didn’t fart.
The girl was so adamant that she didn’t do anything of the sort that it was comical.
According to her, she was God’s one exception to the rule. She did not do those kinds of things—even though we both knew she did.
Hell, I swore on all that was holy that the girl got up an hour early just so she could do the things—such as taking a shit—that she was just too embarrassed to do when I was around or awake.
“Are you coming?” she asked, looking at me weirdly.
But she didn’t take her hand away.
And I was reluctant to let it go, even though I wanted to.
“Landry!”
I turned just as my mother came barreling toward us, pushing me aside.
I stepped back from Landry and dropped her hand, only for my leg to nearly give out from underneath me.
I felt bile rise up my throat, and it took everything that I had not to bend over and throw up right then and there.
I should’ve been better by now.
I shouldn’t hurt this much so long after I’d been shot.
Yet, I did hurt.
Obviously, I knew it wasn’t going to heal in a day, but it should be at least a little bit better by this point.
But it wasn’t.
And I had a feeling, one deep in my gut, that this wound was not a simple one. It wasn’t going to be fixed…and I was likely going to lose my leg.
Speaking of which, I drew a deep steadying breath and reached past Landry, who was in my mother’s arms and got my bottle of pills. Popping them open, I threw one of the horse pill antibiotics in my mouth and swallowed it dry.
It stuck in my throat about halfway down, and I reached for Landry’s drink that she’d yet to finish.
Washing it down the rest of the way, I licked my lips and tasted her apple Chapstick, groaning at the flavor.
God, I’d loved it when I kissed her and tasted that.
It was so perfectly her.
“Oh, I’ve missed you,” my mother said, pulling back.
“You haven’t missed me?” I croaked.
My mother glanced at me, stuck out her tongue, and then pulled Landry in for one more quick hug.
“I’ve missed you, too,” she said, her eyes turning to concern. “Are you okay?”
Landry’s eyes went to me, and her frown deepened.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, pulling away and moving toward me.
Oh, nothing much. I think my leg is about to fall off due to the pain I’m in.
“Stepped wrong,” I lied.
“Stepped wrong my ass,” my father grunted as he finally caught up to my mother, who had obviously run ahead of him. “You pushed him out of the way, and he had to stumble to catch his balance. You’re lucky the truck was right there, or he would’ve fallen straight on his ass. Jesus, Minnie. He was just shot not long ago!” my father, Porter, growled. “And you. You went and got yourself shot, too. What the fuck is going on in Texas?”
Landry smiled at my father, and tears came to her eyes.
The minute my dad saw that, he sighed and said, “Come ‘ere, girl.”
Landry threw herself at my old man, and I felt my heart skip a beat inside my chest.
Not only had she left me, but she’d left my family too.
My parents had adored her from the moment that they’d met her, and Landry had latched onto them like they would leave her at any second.
My dad reached around Landry’s body to wrap her up tight and narrowly missed smacking me in the face as he did.
“You’re talking about me not paying attention,” my mother, Minnie, laughed. “You almost clocked him in the face!”
Porter shrugged, uncaring. “Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.”
I rolled my eyes and took a step away from the truck in the direction of my mother.
My mom wrapped her arms around me gently and said, “You okay?”
I nodded and dropped my mouth to the top of her head, inhaling the floral scent that she’d worn since I was a child, and feeling like I was home. “Yeah, Ma. I’m good. How are you?”
“I’d be good if that lawyer asshole would tell me what was going on,” she muttered.
“That lawyer asshole is your brother,” I paused. “And why wouldn’t he tell you?”
Porter moved until his arm was across Landry’s shoulders. “Let’s go find out.”
And that’s what we did.
Arriving in the lawyer’s office—my uncle Jimmy’s office—I took a seat and nearly groaned audibly at the way the pressure was taken off of my leg.
“Fuck, that hurts,” I growled, feeling my stomach clench, and my ears beginning to lose the slight ring.
“Got that right,” my father muttered.
I looked over at my old man, who’d also taken his seat on the comfortable leather couch just down from me.
“Back acting up again?” I questioned.
He grunted. “Been acting up for the last thirty years.”
I snorted. “If I keep this leg, I have a feeling that it’s going to do the same damn thing.”
“You’ll feel it every single time the weather acts up,” he promised.
I was not looking forward to that. Not even a little bit.
I’d been in the Army for three years as an MP—military police—before getting out and joining up with first Benton’s police department, and then almost immediately moving to Bear Bottom PD.
Needless to say, those three years in the Army had not been kind to my joints. We still did quite a bit of patrolling while carrying gear in the military police
. Some of the places we had to investigate in the Middle East would never be kind even to the healthiest of people. We investigated murders, missing soldiers, domestic violence, anything that might happen in the states, just in worse conditions.
Now, add on being shot in the thigh, and that wound not healing correctly…I had a feeling I was really fucked.
“Great,” I muttered, closing my eyes.
The couch beside me depressed, and I didn’t have to open my eyes to know that Landry had just taken the spot between me and my father. She was so close that I could feel the heat of her along my left side.
Everything inside of me urged me to throw my arm around her shoulder and pull her in close to my side.
I debated it for all of three seconds before I said “fuck it” in my head and did what I wanted.
Lifting my arm, I didn’t bother trying to act smooth, as if pulling her into me was just something that happened.
Nope. I went ahead and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, cupped her elbow, and pulled her into my side.
At first, she stiffened, and I was sure that she was going to pull away.
But then she surprised the shit out of me by not only staying where I put her but also laying her head against my pectoral.
Everything inside of me soared.
Everything.
My heart raced. My hopes lifted. The throbbing in my leg faded into the background.
Hell, even my bladder that’d been protesting for the last hour had paled in comparison to how it felt to have her in my arms, back where she fucking belonged.
We stayed like that for thirty blissful seconds before my uncle Jimmy came out of his office and said, “All right, boys and girls. Y’all can come back now.”
I grunted as Landry used my full bladder to push herself away from me, scooting to the edge of the couch and opened one eye to glare at the man.
He was grinning at me.
I silently curled my lip at him and flipped him off for good measure.
He shrugged.
“Can we have the meeting right here?” I requested. “I have to pee, my leg hurts, and if I have to get up again, it’s not going to be good.”
“Why don’t you pee then?” Uncle Jimmy suggested. “There’s this new modern invention called the toilet. You go in there, lift the lid because your aunt Martha will kick your ass if you pee on her seat, and then take a leak into the little porcelain bowl. It’s great. You should try it.”
I flipped him off again and closed my eyes once more.
“Because walking to the bathroom might very well make me throw up right now,” I told him honestly. “My leg hurts really fuckin’ bad.”
Jimmy’s face went soft. “We can do it out here,” he agreed. “But I can’t promise that my next client won’t walk in during the middle of it.”
“If that happens,” I sighed. “Then we’ll move. But until then, this couch has accepted me as one of its own for the time being.”
Landry settled back into the couch but didn’t move back into my side.
My parents, who’d been quiet up until this point, both started talking at once.
“So, let’s get this shit over with. What’s the deal?” my father asked at the same time my mother said, “Tell us already, please.”
Jimmy walked over to the receptionist’s desk, who wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and rolled the chair over before sitting down in the middle of the waiting room.
It was then that I saw a stack of papers in his hands.
I frowned, the signature on the paper at the bottom looking achingly familiar.
It was our divorce papers.
Something inside of me perked up, and I clenched my hand as I repositioned myself so that I was now leaning forward.
“What?” I rushed out.
He looked at me, then moved his eyes to Landry, who was mimicking my pose.
“Well,” he said, sounding worried. “I’ll just go ahead and start, I guess. I got a call earlier this week from an FBI agent who said that he was calling about ninety lawyers to tell them the same thing that he was telling me.”
“And that was…” I urged.
“That was to say that there was something wrong with a case that I was listed as a contact on. Apparently, they investigated over thirty-two Texas counties, and forty-one individuals working on the cases under question. The individuals being investigated were embezzling money from the cases they were working, and then either hiding the cases altogether in layers of red tape or sending out fake documents that proceedings were taken care of when they weren’t.” He paused for effect. “Over two thousand divorces that were pushed through these counties were null and void over the last eight years. Y’all’s being one of them. For all intents and purposes, y’all are still officially married to each other.”
Silence.
Nothing but silence.
Then Landry squeaked. “What? How? I have papers saying that we are officially divorced!”
“Well, apparently they just never filed them through an official court. They received payment, fabricated fake paperwork, and then sent it to the clients. You got the paperwork they sent you, yes, but the court—and judge’s—signature was forged. And, that judge isn’t actually a judge at all—just a clerk. You are not divorced. You’re still legally married,” Jimmy explained.
Something close to elation started to pour through me.
“How does that even work?” my mother asked. “That’s absurd.”
“It is,” he agreed. “And the only reason it was found was because a couple was audited because they’d filed jointly for the last eighteen years, and then filed separately, both trying to claim their children. It was then discovered that they were officially still married even though they tried to explain that they weren’t. Which then caused the FBI to get involved with their embezzlement unit. You’re one of two thousand cases, and there is currently a class action lawsuit for this if you’re interested in participating in it.”
More silence followed.
“So…we’re still married,” I said, trying not to sound as excited as I felt.
“Yes.” Uncle Jimmy nodded, reading me like an open book. “You are.”
I looked over at Landry who was leaning forward and had her arms wrapped tightly around her torso. She was staring blankly at the wall behind my uncle so, I reached over and pulled her into my side.
“Well what are they supposed to do now?” my mother said, barely holding back her excitement.
“The FBI has asked us to hold off on doing anything for the time being. He said that they’re trying to figure out what’s going on, and anything on our end could interfere in the things that they’re currently trying to fix. As soon as I’m able, I’ll refile,” Jimmy murmured. “You should be thankful that I can still practice in Texas.”
Her words from earlier felt like an arrow to my soul.
I’ll never marry you again.
I could convince her that she didn’t really want to be divorced.
Before, I wasn’t prepared.
Before, I wasn’t as determined.
Before, I hadn’t seen my life flash before my eyes, and felt things change inside of me as I was laying on hot asphalt feeling my lifeblood draining out of me.
“Well shit on a stick,” my father interjected. “Why couldn’t you have just called us? I took a day off of work and everything for this.”
I snorted.
My father hated missing work.
Literally despised it.
He’d been working for the same company for well over thirty years, and in all that time, he’d literally taken what added up to a month of time off.
Then again, when you loved your job as much as my father did, I could see why he wouldn’t want to leave it.
My father was a youth psychologist and worked with kids day in and day out.
He loved them.
He loved it, even more, when he go
t to help them work through whatever was bothering them.
He loved seeing them open up and bloom into the person that they would one day become.
“Well,” Jimmy rolled his eyes. “I thought this was pretty fucking important. I didn’t say you had to come. I said that your boy had to come. He’s an adult, though. You don’t have to hold his goddamn hand anymore.”
My father narrowed his eyes. “The last time you had him in here, you tried to convince him to get a restraining order against your sister.”
I grinned.
He had, in fact, done that.
But, to be honest, I’d been fifteen at the time. My mother had decided that she wanted to make sure that I grew up honest and start going to church. I hadn’t been to church—unless you counted club meetings for the Dixie Wardens—ever. To a fifteen-year-old boy that had way better things to do than go to church—like drag racing cars because I’d literally found out how awesome that could be the weekend before I’d met with my uncle—the idea of having my free time altered was just unacceptable.
Hence the reason I’d gone to my uncle Jimmy to have him talk reason into his sister.
He’d, of course, been joking when he suggested getting a restraining order. But, the idea had merit at the time.
“Landry…are you okay?” my mother asked.
I looked down and over at the woman that was still in my arms and could see that she was white as a sheet.
“Uh, yeah.” She hesitated, then blushed as her eyes caught mine. Likely she was thinking about the comment she’d made before her silent treatment in the truck earlier.
I could just see her thoughts whirling.
If I got my way on this, I might get my way on the other, too.
She narrowed her eyes and looked away, seemingly uninterested.
Except, I could feel the tension in her body as I held her to me.
I also noticed that she didn’t once try to get up or do anything to change our positions. She stayed exactly where she was and didn’t once try to pull away.
The doorbell over the entryway rang as the door was pushed open, and all talking ceased between us.
My uncle stood and walked over to his next client while the rest of us stayed where we were and tried to process the words that we’d just received.
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