Law Man

by Kristen Ashley

  So the minute the kids’ attention was on their chore, I called, “Mitch.”

  He turned to me, leaned into his forearms on the bar and his gaze leveled on mine. I instantly forgot what I needed to get straight when I started drowning in the depths of his soulful brown eyes.

  “These are groceries,” he dipped his head to the bags. “The kids told me what they liked to have around the house and I got some shit I figured you’d need.”

  “Mitch –”

  He kept talking. “Colorado law says kids need to be in car seats until they’re eight.” He tilted his head behind him. “That’s for Billie. Got an extra one for my truck.”

  An extra one for his truck?

  I didn’t get a chance to ask, Mitch kept speaking. “You need to give me your numbers and you need to get your phone to program mine.”

  “Mitch –”

  He pulled out his phone and talked over me. “Get your phone, Mara.”

  “Mitch –”

  “Get your phone.”

  “Mitch!”

  Suddenly, he reached his long arm out, caught my wrist and used it to pull me forward. This made me lean across the counter toward the bar attached to it and he was leaning across the bar toward the counter where I was. Then his hand slid down my wrist and his fingers closed around mine.

  “Sweetheart, get your phone.”

  I swallowed then whispered, “Um…you’re being very cool and I really appreciate it but, uh –”

  “Get your phone.”

  “Mitch, I appreciate it but this isn’t your problem. You can’t buy the kids –”

  “Mara, phone.”

  I tried to pull my fingers from his, his only tightened so I gave up and said softly, “I’m not comfortable with –”

  He moved around the bar, my arm moving with him as he did this because he didn’t let my hand go. Suddenly he was in my space, our arms bent, our hands pressed to his chest and his other arm was around my waist. This meant he was pressed to me, I was pressed to him and our faces were super close.

  “Mara, baby, get…your…phone,” he ordered gently.

  “’Kay,” I whispered because, really, what else could I do?

  He let me go. I got my phone. He programmed my numbers in his then he programmed his numbers in mine. When he was done he called out to the kids to tell them he was going and they raced from wherever they were in the apartment to say good-bye. He lifted Billie up and kissed her cheek which made her giggle. He shook Billy’s hand solemnly which made Billy’s chest puff out and his shoulders straighten.

  Then he opened the door, looked at me but said to the kids, “See you guys tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow?

  Before I could ask, I was staring at a closed door.

  “I like him!” Billie shouted. “He’s nice and he bought me butterflies and flowers!”

  I liked him too. In fact, I was back to loving him even though he thought I had my head up my ass.

  He wasn’t just a nice guy. He was a really, freaking great one.

  When he wasn’t being a jerk or scary, of course.

  I was in trouble.

  The rest of the evening was taken up with laundry, folding laundry and me trying to get the kids sorted. Mitch bought Billy more than jeans. He bought him three pairs of jeans and also bought him some t-shirts and a baseball mitt. Billie’s flower t-shirt and jeans skirt with cute pink ruffle was only the favorite of the three outfits Mitch bought her. It was her favorite because it was the cutest and girliest but only by a small margin. There were also two more plastic cards filled with girlie hair shit and a tiny, fluffy pink teddy bear.

  Yeah, I was back to loving him.

  Crap.

  It took awhile to get to sleep. Not only because I was used to sleeping alone and having the whole bed to myself. The entire day, and every encounter I’d had with Detective Mitch Lawson, was dancing in my head. These thoughts alternated with Bill threatening me and neither were conducive to peace of mind.

  Finally, I slept. Which brought me to now.

  I did my bathroom thing, went to the kitchen, made a pot of coffee, had a shower and did my after shower thing. Then I got Billy up so he could take a shower while I did my makeup thing. Then I got Billie up so she could take a shower in my shower while I kept my eye on her and did my hair drying thing. We had a drama when Billie changed her mind about which was her favorite new outfit that she wanted to wear that day. Then she changed it again after she’d made up her mind which necessitated her changing her outfit.

  We finally had that sorted and I was in the kitchen, the kids on the stools opposite me with glasses of milk in front of them. I was drinking a cup of coffee that by this time I desperately needed while talking to the kids about what they wanted for breakfast. Breakfast groceries were part of what Mitch bought including pancake mix, eggs, bread and three types of jelly. I was also eyeing the living room which had stacks of kids folded clothing on every surface. Most of it, I’d discovered, didn’t deserve to be laundered because it was worn or stained and should be thrown out. And I was thinking that my being able to be freakishly tidy and having a modicum of peace of mind because I was able to control my surroundings was a thing of the past when there was a knock at the door.

  I blinked at the door. I was stuck in my head because I was scared to death about my future, the kids’ future, Bill’s threats and how I was going to clothe, feed and house three humans. Not to mention all things Detective Mitch Lawson. So the knock at the door coming so early in the morning threw me.

  It didn’t throw Billie. She jumped off her stool and raced to the door shouting, “I’ll get it!”

  “Billie, don’t.” I moved out of the kitchen, taking my coffee cup with me. “Let me check the peephole.”

  She was turning the door handle desperately this way and that, ready to welcome whoever was out there wholeheartedly. These efforts were to no avail as the door was locked and chained.

  I looked out the peephole and saw Mitch.

  Oh God.

  His hair was partially wet, the drying ends curling around his ears, neck and collar. I knew he was ready for work because he was wearing a light blue, chambray shirt and a dark, olive green, kickass sports jacket. Detective Mitch Lawson work clothes.

  Jeez, he was hot.

  “Who is it?” Billie asked.

  “It’s Mitch,” I mumbled, gently moving her out of the way and unlocking the door.

  “Yippee!” she cried and then shouted to the door, “Hi, Mitch! I’m wearing my new outfit!”

  I opened the door to a smiling so much he was nearly laughing Detective Mitch Lawson.

  Full on belly whoosh.

  “Hey,” I said, standing between the doorframe and the door.

  “Hey,” he replied, not standing but moving toward me.

  Seeing as I didn’t move, his hand went to my belly at the last minute. He gently shoved me inside as he came inside with me.

  “Hey Mitch,” Billy, who’d kept his seat at the bar, called.

  “Hey Billy,” Mitch answered, shutting the door behind him. “Did I miss breakfast?” he asked and my lungs seized.

  “No!” Billie shouted. “We were just deciding what to have!”

  “Eggs,” Mitch decided for everyone and I stood where I was, watching him move into the kitchen. Then I stayed where I was as I watched him move around the kitchen talking to the kids, pouring himself a cup of coffee, opening and closing cupboards, getting stuff out and lastly and most scarily, making himself at home.

  Woodenly, I walked to the kitchen, stopped by the end of the counter and asked, “What are you doing?”

  He had the eggs, bread and a bowl out and he didn’t even look at me when he replied, “Makin’ breakfast.” I opened my mouth to protest but he kept talking. “Do me a favor, sweetheart, put in some toast.”

  My mouth was still open. I started to form words when his beautiful eyes came to me and my breath got caught in my throat.

  “What ho
urs do you work today?” he asked.

  I blinked then answered, “I’m on late shifts this week. Noon to nine…now, Mitch –”

  “I’m takin’ the kids to school,” he announced, cutting me off and looking down at the bowl into which he started cracking eggs. “I gotta talk to the people in the office. I’ll pick them up this afternoon and take them to Ma.”

  “Ma?” I breathed and he tossed some eggshells into the sink and looked at me.

  “Yeah, my Ma. She works part-time at my sister’s shop. I called her last night. Her schedule is flexible. I’ll pick them up, take them to her place, get them after I’m done at work and I’ll hang here with them until you get home. You’ll need to give me a set of keys.”

  I swallowed. Then I whispered, “Keys?”

  “Keys,” he nodded, his eyes swept me up and down and then quietly he said, “Baby, toast.”

  My body jolted, my gaze slid to the kids who were watching this avidly before I went to the bread, put down my mug and pulled the toaster away from the wall.

  Then I pulled myself together and started, “Mitch –”

  “You need to talk to your boss,” he told me.

  “I know,” I replied. “But Mitch –”

  “And friends,” he interrupted. “Child Protective Services are gonna talk to everyone you know. They should have a head’s up. You’ll need to get school runs sorted and have somethin’ set up for afterschool and weekend days you work. I’ll do what I can. Ma said she’d do what she can. LaTanya works only twenty hours a week and she’ll probably pitch in. Bray’s hours are like yours so he can probably help out. But that’s short-term. Long-term, you’re gonna need to get childcare sorted out. With me?”

  Wow, he’d thought about this more than me.

  “Um…” I mumbled.

  “They’ll also inspect this place,” Mitch went on. “You’ll need beds. They’ll talk to you and they’ll set you up with foster parent classes. I’ll stop by the Management Office and see if they got any townhomes open. The kids need more space but you do this, you need to be close to your posse and they got a block of townhomes across the creek.”

  “Mitch –”

  He dumped the scrambled eggs into the waiting melted butter in the skillet and looked at me. “Get the butter and jelly, baby.”

  I moved to the fridge to get the butter and jelly. And I did this mostly because if he told me to throw myself in front of a train, but did it adding the word “baby”, I would have done it. I put the butter and all three jars of jelly on the bar in front of the kids, turned to Mitch and the toast popped up. So I grabbed the butter, slid down the counter to open a drawer and get a knife. I pulled out the toast, put in more bread and started spreading butter.

  “Maybe we should talk about this when the kids –” I began.

  “They gotta eat and they gotta get to school,” Mitch cut me off again, moving the cooking eggs around the skillet. “You also gotta look into changing their school when all this is formalized. They’ll need to be moved to a school closer to home.”

  “Are we movin’ in with you, Auntie Mara?” Billie asked, her tone slightly confused and I turned to her.

  Then I pressed my lips together because her face looked slightly confused too and I preferred Billie looking happy and carefree.

  “Yeah, honey, I hope so. Your Daddy needs to sort a few things out,” I told her quietly.

  She stared at me uncertain and I didn’t like that either.

  “I think it’s cool,” Billy put in. “Auntie Mara’s house is clean. Bray and Brent and Derek and LaTanya and Mitch all live close by and she’s always got food.”

  Billie’s teeth started worrying her lip as she studied her brother. Then she asked, “But who’s gonna stay with Daddy?”

  “Who cares?” Billy asked back and I moved to the counter.

  “Billie,” I called and her worried eyes moved to mine. I leaned into my forearms on the counter. “I know you’re worried about your Daddy but he’s an adult so he needs to worry about himself,” I told her. “You’re a kid and that means, while you’re a kid, someone’s supposed to worry about you, take care of you, make sure you have food in your belly and shampoo for your hair.” I got up on my toes and leaned closer to her as my voice dipped quiet. “I love you, baby, and I want that person to be me. I want to make sure you’re always okay and not have to worry that you aren’t eating and your clothes aren’t clean. And the only way for me not to have to worry about that is for me to take care of you myself. If your Daddy gets himself sorted out, we’ll see. But in the meantime will you let me do that for you? Make sure you have shampoo, food and someone to look out for you? Is that okay with you?”

  “But Daddy will be all alone,” she replied in a small voice.

  “I know, sweetie,” I whispered. “But I can’t help him, he has to help himself. What I can do is look after you.” I reached out a hand and set it flat on the bar in front of her. “And I want to. I want you here with me, Billie. Will you stay with me?”

  “You want me here with you?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” I answered.

  “Do you want Billy?” she asked.

  “Definitely,” I answered.

  She stared at me then her eyes moved beyond me to Mitch before she looked back to me. “I like my new shampoo, it smells pretty.”

  I smiled at her. “Is that a yes, baby?”

  “Are you lonely without us?” she whispered.

  “I worry about you when I’m not with you,” I told her. “If you’re with me, I don’t have to worry anymore.”

  “I don’t want you to worry.” She was still whispering. “But I don’t want Daddy to worry either.”

  “Dad won’t worry,” Billy muttered and Billie’s head swung to him.

  “Look at me,” I called quickly as her lip started to tremble and Billie’s eyes came back to mine. “You don’t have to make a decision now. Just have Mitch’s eggs. Go to school and you can think about it. We’ll talk about it again when you’re ready. Is that a deal?”

  She took in a breath then nodded. “Deal,” she whispered.

  “Okay, baby,” I whispered back.

  Then I felt heat at my back as Mitch leaned into me to set two plates filled with fluffy scrambled eggs and buttered toast, with cutlery resting on the side of the plate, in front of both of the kids. Once he’d done this he stayed where his was, both fists on the counter on either side of me, his body pressed to mine.

  “Eat up, we gotta get on the road,” he ordered.

  Billie looked down at her food. Billy looked down at Mitch’s fists in the counter. I tried to straighten and slide away which meant one of Mitch’s hands left the counter and his arm curled around my belly.

  “You want toast, sweetheart?” he asked quietly in my ear.

  I figured I’d throw up if I tried to eat anything. But I nodded because I was hoping he was offering to make me some and he couldn’t make me toast pressed into and holding me. Therefore, I nodded.

  I was right. He let me go and I heard the bread bag rustling.

  Billy’s eyes came to my face and he studied me looking about fifty years older than he actually was. Then he started eating.

  Billie was already wolfing her food down at the same time inspecting the unusual plethora of jelly at her disposal.

  I was thinking of school runs, Child Protection Services, buying new beds, when I’d have time to take foster parent classes and Mitch’s “Ma”. I was thinking about this so hard Mitch was in front of me holding a plate of buttered toast before I knew it.

  I looked down at the toast then up at Mitch. The instant my eyes hit his, I knew it was definitely time to take control.

  I took the plate, set it on the counter and asked him quietly, “Can we talk?”

  He studied my face and I watched his eyes grow guarded. Then he nodded.

  I walked around him, saying to the kids, “I’ll be right back.” Then I walked to the front door and out into the breezeway.


  Mitch followed and closed the door behind him.

  I sucked in breath and pulled up the courage to look him in the eye.

  “Can you take a minute to explain to me what’s happening?” I asked.

  “Thought I did that inside, Mara,” Mitch, eyes still guarded, answered.

  “No, I mean from here on in. With Bill and the kids and Child Protection Services,” I explained.

  He kept watching me and finally he nodded.

  “Bill’s been arrested,” Mitch answered. “I’ll know more when I get into the Station. Child Protection Services have been called. Normally, Bill would decide who looks after his kids. Considering the state we found him in, I made that decision. They’ll be contacting you and they’ll do it soon because usually they’d decide who was an appropriate guardian if Bill was incapable of making that decision, which I deemed he was. While Bill stays incarcerated, they’ll stay with you. If Bill gets out then you’ll need to convince Child Protective Services he’s unfit and then prove to them you are. If the last happens, it won’t be difficult from what I’ve seen. But to be awarded guardianship, you’ll have to take foster parent classes.” He paused and finished, “So that’s where we are.”

  I nodded then asked, “Why was Bill arrested?”

  Mitch stared at me a minute, his expression shifting quickly to one that said he didn’t know what to make of me. Then he answered, “Mara, he was in possession of illegal substances and I’m a police officer. We tend to do something when we see someone in possession of something illegal. That’s kind of our job.”

  This was true. Shit. I was such a dork!

  Though possession of illegal substances wasn’t that bad unless you were in possession of a lot of them and, from what I saw, Bill wasn’t. That said, he’d been arrested twice that I knew. The first time he got community service. The second time wasn’t a big deal, his jail sentence was six months and he’d been paroled after three. It was only Billy then, Billie hadn’t been born yet and I’d looked after him those three months. It had been tough but I did it. Then again, Billy hadn’t been able to dress himself since he was a toddler and now both of them could dress themselves so maybe it wouldn’t be that tough this time around.