Us After You

by Claudia Burgoa

“Two years?” I screech. “You don’t think this could happen in a month?”

  “How fast do you think we can convince your parents that this environment is the best for Mae?”

  I laugh, hard. “My parents want her. They won’t stop fighting until they lose. They’ll hire another lawyer and try again.”

  “A regular case takes several months. If what you’re saying is true, I’d double the time,” Hunter says. “People can contest anything. Whether they can win is another thing altogether. They can piss and moan, but it will cost them a lot of money to fight across states. Due to the age of the Heywoods, it’s highly unlikely that they can get more than visitations—at Sage’s home. The court has the last word.”

  My logical side understands, but the part that loves my life in Baker’s Creek isn’t thrilled about the news. My parents are obstinate, and they’ll fight, maybe until they run out of money, because there’s a jackpot waiting for them once they get guardianship of Mae—if they do.

  “You’re talking years, aren’t you?”

  He nods. “There are options if you don’t think you can do this.”

  Is he crazy?

  There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Mae. It’s just … this whole thing feels like too much to handle in just a few short hours.

  “Never,” I respond. “We’ll share temporary guardianship, and once this is over, we’ll know exactly what Mae needs.”

  Tucker moves slightly closer to me. Just close enough to make me wary. “Maybe we’ll become roommates for the next eighteen years. We’ll share everything.” He bends closer and whispers, “Every time you use the soap, imagine what I washed with it last.”

  His gaze is trained on me, waiting for my reaction.

  Should I add no teasing the fuck out of me to the list of conditions? That’d be ridiculous and childish. But eighteen years with this man?

  What kind of life would we live?

  A sparkle of hesitation ignites in my heart. Reluctance because I wonder what is really going to happen during these months—or years? This isn’t the first time I lived with a man. The last time was … bad.

  I consider backpedaling for a second, but the reminder of who really matters makes me stop. She can’t end up with my parents. Mae needs me.

  “Are you scared, Ms. Heywood?” he taunts me. “I’m not half bad, once you get to know me, now if—”

  “Tucker, stop!” Hannah orders him.

  “What? I’m just trying to convince her that we can work this out,” he says innocently.

  “I can handle you quite well,” I respond, not amused by his insinuations.

  “So, when are we moving in?” he asks. “I can help you carry whatever is in your trunk.”

  “I want you living together no later than Monday,” Fitz says, gathering up his laptop and everything he brought inside his briefcase. “We won’t give the news to the Heywoods until Monday. For sure, we’ll be losing their account.”

  “They’re already your client?” Alex asks.

  He nods. “As you know, I practice corporate law. They have us on retainer, but it wouldn’t be a big loss if they fired us.”

  “Any questions?” his brother Hunter asks.

  I shake my head, and Tucker does the same.

  “If you think of anything, call. Every time you want out of this mess because a social worker is on top of you investigating your business, remember who it’s for—Mae. Be aware that they’ll be doing interviews. They are going to question your family, your coworkers, neighbors, friends, business partners, maybe even your dog. They’ll drop by your house unexpectedly.”

  Fitz looks at Tucker and says, “Stay clean, man. One wrong move, and we’re fucked.”

  “I’ve been clean,” he says.

  “Are you also an addict?” I ask cautiously, hoping that I don’t sound like a bitch.

  He shakes his head. “No, but I used to party, and every fucking time I did, my name ended in some gossip magazine—or all of them.”

  “I trust you,” Fitz says, and I’m about to say I don’t, but we have to trust each other blindly. Don’t we?

  “Ms. Heywood, anything I need to know?” he asks.

  “Like?”

  “You seem like a mellow person, but do you have any unpaid tickets, fines … you know, things that can make you look like less than the perfect citizen?”

  “Nobody is perfect,” I say, annoyed.

  “Which is understandable. I can spin the tabloid stuff that Decker has piled up because he’s been transparent. How about you?”

  “Not one ticket. I didn’t start driving until I moved to Oregon. When you live in Manhattan, there’s no reason to own a car.”

  “There is,” both brothers correct me.

  “Why did you leave Manhattan?” Fitz asks.

  I fidget with the sleeves of my sweater and come up with a fast response. “My grandfather had a stroke. I moved to Oregon to help.”

  His gaze narrows, and he looks at his brother who nods once. “What are you hiding?”

  My eyes open wide, and I shake my head. Because up until now, I hadn’t thought about Douglas and what he’s capable of doing when he’s upset. What if … am I putting Mae in danger?

  “You left for another reason, what was it?” he insists.

  “Leave her alone,” Tucker says, putting himself between me and them. “We’ll talk about it, and if I think it’s important for you to know, I’ll give you a call.”

  I rest my forehead on his back and breathe.

  Do I have to tell them about my marriage?

  I can think of the ways Douglas can mess this up and use Mae to fuck with me. The thought of him hurting Mae makes it impossible to breathe.

  Suddenly, I’m being embraced by two strong arms.

  “It’s okay,” he mumbles. “You’re safe.”

  Not sure how much time passes until my breathing is back to normal.

  “Thank you for—” I try to snap out of it, but it’s overwhelming.

  “Ready for the big move, Roomie?” His voice has humor in it and yet is soothing too.

  I nod. “The only dirty thing allowed in the house will be Mae’s dirty diapers, and we have to dispose of them quickly.”

  He laughs as he leaves the office.

  43

  Sage

  “This doesn’t make sense,” Corbin states, as I pull my stuff out of my closet and start packing what I want to take with me.

  Tucker is sending someone to pick me up. He wasn’t specific on how exactly I’m heading to Seattle. A guy named Clint came yesterday to fetch my car.

  The moving company he hired arrives in less than an hour. Tucker’s assistant employed, not one, but two, people for the bookstore—plus a housekeeper for my grandparents, a part-time nurse, and a physical therapist too.

  He made sure everything was covered, so I could give my time to Mae. Just like he’s doing.

  “You’re trying to make sense out of my sister’s death, her husband’s suicide, and my niece’s needs?” I ask him, annoyed.

  “What’s going to happen after you get custody of her?”

  “We don’t know,” I say the words slowly, hoping he understands that I’m just as confused as he is, but I’m doing this for my niece.

  Dexter, on the other hand, is pushing me to dispute the will and take her. However, I told him to fuck off. This is what’s best for Mae. I can’t do it alone, and Tucker is great with her. If I had to choose a father for my niece, I think he’d be the best choice.

  “Doesn’t she have anyone else?” Corbin insists.

  “No, Corbin. Our family isn’t big. What would happen to your son if you and your ex-wife died?”

  “My parents, my brother, her parents … why not your brother?”

  He lives in another country. The state won’t even consider him because I bet he wouldn’t move to Washington—or even the United States—for Mae.

  Also, he has zero experience with children. I don’t think he’s been around one
since I grew up. I’m not that different from him. My only experience with a baby is Mae. I have no clue how to do anything for her.

  So far, when I visit, I just cradle her while she sleeps. I let everyone else tend to her needs. Changing diapers, feedings … what else do babies need?

  Tucker is fluent in the language of babysitting. It must be the five siblings and the long number of cousins he has. Me … I’m not trained, but I’m willing to do it—for Mae.

  “You shouldn’t be putting your life on hold for someone else’s child,” he states.

  I stop what I’m doing and look at him. Safe, quiet, and simple Corbin. He’s not a bad guy. Everyone in town knows he’s a great father.

  Grandma is right.

  He’s not the guy for me. We’re just keeping each other company. It hits me that we don’t have anything in common or even a real relationship. When was the last time we went out?

  I don’t feel anything for him. It was just companionship. It’s not worth it to remain together.

  These past few weeks, I’ve been so busy that I barely got to see him—or talk to him. During my free time, I texted or talked to Tucker.

  My thoughts are occupied by Mae and Tucker all the time. My leaving will just keep opening the gap between us. I never believed in long distance relationships, and with him, I don’t even want to try.

  “Listen, I think it’ll be best for us if … I’m leaving,” I say, wondering what sounds right, because I don’t want to use the typical ‘you’re a great guy’ line. It’s not you—but it actually is him. “God knows when I’ll be back, and I think it’d be best if we end this.”

  He glances at me thoughtfully and then responds, “Well, if I’m single when you come back—and you don’t have the baby with you—we can try again. You’re cute.”

  I’m fucking cute? That’s why we’re dating, because I’m as adorable as a Yorkie.

  What am I doing with him? Then, he offers to take me back only if I don’t have Mae with me.

  Asshole!

  Should I tell him that I plan on having Mae forever?

  She’s my niece. Family.

  We only have each other. Well, she has Tucker and a big tribe behind her. Still she’s also mine. If I come back is with her to raise her, and Corbin isn’t the man that I want around her as a father figure.

  I don’t have an answer that won’t make this break-up nasty, and thankfully, I’m saved by the doorbell. When I open it, it’s Tucker.

  “We’re here to help,” he says, behind him are Zeke and Ethan. “Also, you said you had the JK Rowling book ready.”

  I frown at him. “What?”

  “The special edition JK Rowling book we’ve been waiting for,” Ethan responds.

  Then I remember, just as Zeke points to Tucker. T. Bradley is Tucker.

  “Sorry for shutting you up during the meeting, but it’s a present for Hannah,” Tucker apologizes.

  “Wow. That’s a … it’s a very expensive present,” I say, wondering if they can really pay for it. Then, I’m reminded these guys are billionaires.

  A four-million-dollar book is nothing to them. For my grandparents, the commission they’re getting is going to help us remodel the bookstore.

  “Well, it’s Nana. She deserves it,” Zeke states, and the other two nod in agreement.

  “We have secured it,” I informed them. “However, I haven’t been able to pick it up, and I don’t want them to ship it.”

  “Where is it?” Zeke asks.

  “D.C.,” I answer.

  “Ethan and I can pick it up over the weekend. Let us know where to transfer the money and make sure they have it ready.”

  I nod and make a note on my phone.

  “Who is it?” Corbin marches into the foyer.

  “Tucker, Ethan, and Zeke,” I inform him. “Guys, remember Corbin?”

  Tucker arches an eyebrow and shakes his head slightly.

  Your fault, he mouths.

  I chuckle. “Really, why are you guys here?”

  “What do you need from us?” Tucker asks. “The movers are packing the stuff you want them to take. We’re only packing what we’re taking with us. The plane is ready.”

  “That makes it easier.”

  “You’re the moving company?” Corbin asks, glancing at them in disgust. “Are you sure you want to use them?”

  Zeke glares at him. “Where do you want us to start? My parole officer prohibits me from killing another man for pissing me off.”

  Corbin goes pale, and Ethan tries to hide his laugh. I look at Tucker who shakes his head. I’m hoping he denies those allegations.

  Instead, he says, “Why don’t you drag your judgmental ass away from us? I’m too busy helping Sage to defend you from the guys.”

  “If you don’t need me, I have to check on some applications,” Corbin says. “Call me when you get there.”

  Then he walks closer and whispers, “Blink twice if you think you’re being held against your will.”

  “Go. Take care of your insurance shit, man,” Ethan says. “She’s safe with us. We already fed Zeke.”

  “Did you have to do that?”

  “Did he have to do that?” Zeke responds. “Fucking asshole. Ooh, I have tattoos, I’m a scary man. Call the police.”

  Tucker exhales loudly and changes the conversation. “Your parents are being told by our lawyers that they can’t handle the case because there’s a conflict of interest. They represent Mae and her parents’ wishes.”

  “What about us?” I question, confused.

  Tucker nods. “Of course, us too. Hunter is representing us. Fitz represents Mae.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Look, both are going to do what’s best for Mae,” he explains. “The bottom line is your parents are going to have to search for another lawyer to contest the will.”

  “Have you moved yet?”

  He nods. “I did over the weekend. I never got a new driver’s license in Colorado, which means I don’t have to do anything to prove that I live in Washington.”

  “But I have to do it?”

  He nods. “Yes. You have to show that this is permanent.”

  “What if it’s not?”

  “For now, let’s assume this is our forever home,” he proposes. “We’re a united front—remember those two words when things get difficult. I have your back, and I hope that you’ll have mine.”

  The fact that I barely know him makes that difficult. I don’t trust many. It’s hard when all the people in your life betray you. He expects too much from me.

  Zeke and Ethan busy themselves. They pack most of the stuff I put outside. When we’re done, we drive to my grandparents to say goodbye. The guys promise them to bring me often, as well as to come to pick them up, so they can see Mae.

  Mae can travel, but we have to ask our social worker for permission at least four weeks in advance.

  “Break it off with him,” Tucker says, as we walk toward the car.

  “What?”

  “Break up with Corbin, please.” Even with the ‘please,’ his words sound like an order.

  “I don’t do well with orders, and no, I won’t just break up with him because you say so,” I lie because, in fact, I already broke up with him.

  Not that we were ever serious about each other. Lately, we’ve been doing our own thing. Things between Corbin and I were over before it began.

  However, I think it’s best if Tucker doesn’t know it. I need those boundaries.

  “Please,” he asks again.

  “Boundaries,” I say the word, as if it’s my safe word, my way out of this situation.

  He shakes his head. “They’ll stay there. I just need him out of the picture, Sage. We’re not having that drink yet, but I don’t want to feel guilty when I give you a compliment or I stare at you because you’re fucking beautiful.”

  “Tuck,” I mumble, dumbfounded by the request and the sincerity of his words.

  “I’m not that guy.
The one who looks at someone else’s woman.” He takes a deep breath. “Do you love him?”

  I never loved him. It’s over, and I was with him because … “He’s safe,” I answer.

  “Wrong answer. I’m not sure what safe means, all I know is that’s not love. I saw you two together. Nana and I are closer than you two are. Please, break up with him before we leave.”

  “I can’t trust you,” I say, because he’s being honest, and I should reciprocate.

  “Your ex-husband?”

  I nod slowly.

  “Is that why you left New York?”

  “No, it was my grandfather, but … I gained a new life. I reinvented myself.” I look at my wrist and read the words. He takes my hand and traces each letter with his thumb. I shiver.

  “Look, I can promise that, for as long as we live together, you’ll be safe. I’ll protect you. You’ll still be you.”

  His promise actually makes me think of Douglas. The things he’s capable of doing. He already took someone precious away from me.

  “What if he tries to hurt Mae?” I ask, hoping he promises more than any person has promised me before—safety.

  “Why would he?”

  “I need to see if the restraining order is effective in Seattle.”

  His body puffs, and his eye open wide. “You don’t need a restraining order. You have me. The fucker will never get close to you or Mae. I need you to give me a copy of the document.”

  “Should I be worried that you have a murderous glare?”

  He kisses my temple and gives me his phone. “Input Corbin’s address. I’m driving you to his house.”

  “Stop trying to order me around. I hate that tone.” I hand it back. “Let’s go home.”

  “Sage.”

  “Trust me, okay?”

  44

  Tucker

  Once Sage sends me a copy of the restraining order, I forward it to my uncle, Mason. His high intelligence security company can run a background on anyone within an hour—or less. I’m lucky, because when we arrive at the airport, he texts me that he has answers.

  During the flight back home, I bunker myself in the office. Mason had every detail on Douglas Earnest Rosedale Ritzy III and his ex-wife, Sage Ritzy. I hate that fucking name, but not as much as I hate him.