Hot Dad

by Whitley Cox

  She turned around and took a few steps. I grabbed the condom from the floor and went to head off to dispose of it in the garbage.

  “Sam?”

  I turned around. “Yeah?”

  “Thank you. For everything.”

  Standing there in the living room, with the moon shining in just right, she looked like an angel. Rosy cheeks, bright eyes, wild brown hair. I knew more than ever, at that very moment, she was who I’d been waiting for. Who I’d been searching for. She was my everything.

  I smiled. “Bed now, Harper.” Then I turned toward the main floor bathroom and seconds later heard the step at the bottom of the stairs gently creak.

  It was Thursday morning, and although Gem was supposed to be off to preschool, something told me I needed to keep her home. After last night, I didn’t want to be away from my kids. Call it a gut feeling, or father’s intuition. Quinn had decided to keep her kids home, too. We were all a little raw and just wanted to hunker down and stay safe.

  It was roughly lunchtime, and we were working like a well-oiled machine in my kitchen. Harper and Quinn were on grilled-cheese duty, while I got all five kids cleaned up from their Play-Doh fun. I was just drying Landon’s hands when my phone in my back pocket started to vibrate and ring. I handed Landon off to Quinn, who immediately set him in his highchair.

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “Hello, Mr. Wright?”

  “Speaking.”

  “Hi, Mr. Wright, this is Paula over at Happy Kids, Bright Futures Preschool. I just wanted to alert you of something strange that happened today.”

  A chill raked down my spine. I knew something was up. Fuck. Did the place catch fire, too?

  “Yes, go on.”

  “Well, as you know, we have a very tight security policy here. You have a list of people whom you allow to pick up Gemma, otherwise all others are not permitted.”

  “Yes?”

  “I know Gemma was absent today, but someone came here to pick her up, claiming to be her mother. She became rather irate when I told her that Gemma wasn’t here. Didn’t believe me. Thought I was lying. I then told her that even if Gemma were here, she would not be permitted to leave, as this woman is not on the preapproved list.”

  Bile burned the back of my throat. “Thank you very much for letting me know, Paula. Yes, Gemma’s mother is back in town, and NO, not under any circumstances is she to remove Gem from preschool. Thank you very much for following procedure and for letting me know. I will be speaking with Meegan about this immediately.”

  She asked if Gemma was feeling okay, which I assured her she was, and then I followed up for the following week and the fact that I was supposed to be doing a little art demonstration and project with the kids. When I hung up the phone, anger tasted acrid on my tongue. My jaw ached from how hard I was clenching it. The need to punch something consumed me. I needed to deal with Meegan once and for all.

  “Who was that?” Harper asked, when I finally joined them at the table. It was a full house. Three adults and five kids, but everyone was eating nicely and so far, there hadn’t been any squabbles among the children.

  I shook my head. “Something weird happened at Gem’s preschool today.”

  Quinn’s sandwich paused mid-air. “But she didn’t go.”

  “I know. But Meegan went to try to pick her up.”

  Harper’s mouth hung open. “What?”

  I caught Gemma’s eyes following our conversation. Worry marred her beautiful face. “Daddy?”

  I was about to open my mouth when there as a harsh and demanding knock at the front door, followed immediately by the doorbell. What the fuck?

  I growled and put my sandwich down as I got up from the table, running my hand along Gemma’s head as I left the room.

  I opened the door and came face-to-face with Meegan. Her gray eyes were wide with fury, and her sharp angular cheekbones flushed a bright pink. She pushed her way inside before I had a moment to say anything or shut the door. Shock at her on my doorstep had left me stymied and speechless.

  “Where is Gemma?” she demanded.

  “Why?” Having finally regained my voice. The hackles lifted on the back of my neck.

  Her eye twitched. “Because I want to know where my daughter is.” She paused at the sound of multiple voices coming from the kitchen. I could hear Quinn and Harper attempting to keep the kids quiet, mostly so they could hear what was happening out here, I’m sure. “Who’s here?”

  “The kids,” I said, trying to appear bored.

  “Sounds like more than ours.”

  “Mine.”

  “Whatever,” she scoffed. “Who else is here?” Heat creeped up her neck as it dawned on her that Harper was over. “Is she here?”

  “Who the hell’s car do you think is out front? Yes, Harper and her daughter are here for lunch.”

  Meegan’s eyes frantically darted back and forth. “B-but that … how? Aren’t they … ” She brought her voice down low and nibbled on her fingernail. “Their house?”

  I paused. “What about their house?”

  The clatter and voices in the kitchen came to an abrupt halt, and silence pounded around us.

  She looked up at me, her eyes incredibly wide. The woman appeared to be off in her own little world now. I wasn’t even sure she knew I was standing in front of her. Was she on something?

  “What about their house?” I repeated.

  “How … how did she get out?” She was muttering to herself. “How did she survive? I made sure … ” She was looking at the floor again, her thumbnail between her teeth as her eyes scanned the polished wooden boards.

  A cold chill swept down my back, and goosebumps raced across my arms. I needed Harper and Quinn to stay with the kids. But I also needed Meegan to stay, too. I couldn’t let her leave. Not now.

  Swallowing hard past the lump of fear building in my throat, I gingerly put my hand on her shoulder. She flinched beneath my touch but didn’t pull away. “Come sit down on the couch for a second, Meegan. I’m going to let Gemma finish her lunch, and then maybe she’ll want to come chat with you, okay?”

  Meegan didn’t look at me, but she nodded and moved as I ushered her into the living room and to the couch. The kitchen was still quiet; I could practically feel the tension swirling through the house.

  I sat down next to Meegan but made sure to keep my distance. “You feeling okay?” I asked. “Not coming down with a cold or anything?”

  Her gaze zipped up to mine, and her eyes grew fierce. “What the hell does that mean?” She went to stand up, but I put my hand on her arm again.

  “Please, just wait. Let’s talk. I know you want to be part of the children’s lives, but we haven’t gone about this the right way. Maybe we can figure something out? If you’re planning to stay in Vancouver for a while and get a job, perhaps we can arrange something with the lawyers and organize some sort of supervised visitation.”

  Triumph flared in her gray eyes, and a devious smile curled on her lips. She was about to open her mouth when there was a gentle knock at the door.

  Meegan eyed me quizzically, but I gave her a reassuring smile before I stood up to answer it. Thankfully, the living room was tucked around a small corner from the front door, so Meegan wouldn’t be able to see who was at the door. I only hoped it was who I thought, and the women in the kitchen had read my mind. Judging by the big dark shadows that loomed behind the mottled glass of the door, they had.

  I opened the door to find two police officers, the same ones from last night. Constable Griffin, tall, blonde and beautiful, and the other, Staff Sargent Palowski, taller, with a buzz cut and a chest the size of a Mac truck. The guy was enormous.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Wright. We were just on our way over when we received the call from Mrs. Paulson,” Constable Griffin said, her high cheeks burning bright pink from the cold.

  For some reason I was hit with the sudden thought that this was totally the type of woman Ben would go for. Beautiful, but in that al
l natural way, tall, fit and badass. I shook my head to clear my mind of that off-track notion before nodding and bringing my voice down. “Yes, well, we have a visitor.”

  “Is she still here, sir?”

  “In the living room. I’ve kept her here, hoping you’d show up.”

  “And has she confessed to the fires?”

  Clenching my jaw, I motioned for them to push back outside. I joined them on the front steps and shut the door. “No. Well, not in so many words. When she realized Miss Reynolds was here, she started muttering strange things. But it was enough for me and Miss Reynolds and Mrs. Paulson to believe she may have had a hand in it. They called you while I kept her distracted. She,” I took a deep breath, “she doesn’t seem all there. If that makes any sense?”

  The big cop with the buzz cut, Staff Sargent Palowski, whipped out a pad of paper and started to scribble. “Not all there how?”

  I shook my head. “I can’t put my finger on it. Irrational, wild eyes. Muttering to herself. She’s always been a quick-tempered person, but it seems as though her patience is even thinner than I remember. She struck Gemma on Monday.”

  His head snapped up from where he’d been jotting stuff down on his note pad. “She hit her child?”

  My gut rolled over. I clenched my jaw and nodded once. “Yes. Meegan followed us to our Monday playgroup and went to reach for Gemma’s hand. Gemma pulled away, and Meegan hit her.”

  “Where?” he asked.

  “The face.”

  His dark green eyes turned the color of red cedar boughs, and his face grew hard, well, harder than it already was. “And what did you do?”

  I shook my head as I scratched the back of my neck. “I got pissed at her but didn’t hit her back.”

  “That was it?” Constable Griffin asked, her voice low. She shot her partner a look, but he was busy writing stuff down.

  “No. Miss Reynolds showed up and threatened Meegan. She knew I couldn’t hit a woman but said she would if Meegan didn’t leave.”

  Staff Sargent Palowski looked up again from his notepad. His eyes softened. “I like Miss Reynolds.”

  I love her.

  Fear, love, exhaustion came out in a big sigh. “Me too.”

  “All right, well, let’s go speak with Miss Cooper then, shall we?” Constable Griffin said, angling her head toward the door. “Ask her where she was last night.”

  I opened the door and was immediately met with a blood-curdling scream from the kitchen. It was Gemma.

  Lightning coursed through me as I ran full-speed down the hall to the kitchen. Half a glance in the living room told me Meegan wasn’t on the couch. Fuck! The heavy booted clomp-clomp of the police officers behind me competed with the wildly beating pulse in my ears. What the hell would I find in the kitchen?

  Another scream.

  “Please, no!” Gemma cried.

  I rounded the corner into the kitchen and came face to face with a nightmare.

  Gemma was standing on her chair, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stared at her mother and Harper in the kitchen. Meegan had managed to find a big, sharp knife and held it to Harper’s throat. She had Harper in a headlock and was pressing the top of the blade into her neck.

  Quinn and Lillian were standing up at the table, tears in their eyes as Quinn quietly attempted to talk Meegan down.

  “Put the knife down,” Quinn said, a quaver to her voice. “You don’t want to hurt anybody.”

  Harper’s eyes found mine. A tear trickled down her cheek and dripped onto the handle of the knife. Terror slashed across her face. She kept looking at Carly, who was sitting on her chair, eyes wide with fear and confusion.

  “Meegan,” I said softly, “put the knife down. You don’t want to do this. You need help. We can get you help.” I inched forward. “You set the house on fire, didn’t you?”

  Meegan’s eyes were wild, and her hand with the knife trembled. Harper winced as the blade dug into her throat.

  “It’s okay, Meegan. We’ll get you some help. You’re not feeling like yourself, are you?” I inched forward again, ever so slowly, as if approaching a scared and mangy dog in the streets.

  Meegan shook her head. Her hand twitched, Harper inhaled, and a bright drop of blood appeared on her neck.

  Panic assailed me.

  “Mummy bleeding,” Carly whispered.

  Harper’s lip trembled, and her eyes darted to her sister. “It’s okay, baby. I’m okay. Mummy’s okay.”

  Quinn grabbed Carly and plopped the little girl onto her hip. Everyone’s eyes remained fixated on Meegan and Harper. On the blade of the knife. On the rivulet of blood running down Harper’s long neck down into the top of her pale blue shirt.

  I swallowed and focused back on Meegan. I needed to get her to listen to me. I needed to get her to release Harper and follow me back out into the living room.

  Just then a gun appeared out of the corner of my eyes, followed by an arm and then the body of Constable Griffin.

  “Miss Cooper, I’m Constable Griffin and this is Staff Sargent Palowski. You need to release Miss Reynolds now. We’ll get you the help you need. But you need to release her. Take the knife away from her throat and come with us,” Constable Griffin demanded.

  Fuck. I’d hoped the cops would have stayed hidden and let me handle it.

  “Did you set the house on fire?” I asked, determined to keep my voice even and just above a hush, even though inside I wanted to scream like a highland warrior and wrench the woman I loved away from the woman I hated.

  Meegan’s eyes shifted back and forth between me and Constable Griffin. Slowly, Meegan’s head bobbed up and down.

  Fuck almighty.

  “Why?”

  “B-because she needs to go. She’s taking my family.”

  “Did you know I was over there last night?” Not that it mattered, but I needed to know exactly where her head was.

  She shook her head, and a lone tear dripped down her cheek. “No. I’m sorry, Sam. I didn’t know you were there. I didn’t see your car. I didn’t want you to die. I want to be a family with you and the kids again. I want things to go back to the way they were. We can get married and be the big, happy family we always dreamed of.”

  I stepped forward another inch. Constable Griffin adjusted her position beside me, but kept the gun up and pointed directly at Meegan’s head.

  “D-don’t come any closer,” Meegan stammered. “Or I’ll cut her throat.”

  At this point, I was only six feet away from Meegan. In a pinch, I just might be able to snatch Harper away. I was skilled and schooled in first aid and emergency response, so unless Meegan stabbed her, I’d be able to deal with whatever injury she endured if I had to act quickly and wrestle her away from Meegan. But I didn’t want it to come to that. This woman was the mother of my children, and my children were in the room watching. The last thing I wanted was to traumatize them with the image of their father tackling their mother to the floor and wrestling a knife away from her.

  I held out my hand. “You don’t want to do that. You don’t want to hurt anyone. This isn’t you. You’re sick. You need help. Hand me the knife, Meegan. We’re going to get you some help, okay?”

  She shook her head and pressed the blade harder against Harper’s neck. More blood dripped down Harper’s neck. Her shirt was now spotted with purple. Fresh tears sprung from her eyes.

  “I-I don’t need help,” Meegan stammered. “I need my kids. I want my kids.”

  I nodded and stepped closer. “We can sort out some visitation once we get you some help. Hand me the knife, Meegan.”

  Harper’s throat bobbed. Meegan’s eyes darted to the noise behind me.

  I craned my neck around to find Staff Sargent Palowski slowly next to Constable Griffin. Now they both had their guns drawn and pointed on Meegan and were slowly closing in.

  Fuck, were the cops getting ready to take over? That could only end badly. I had this, they needed to know I had this.

  Memories of fig
hts Meegan and I had had when she’d first found out she was pregnant with Gemma came crashing back on me like an avalanche. She’d been violent then, too. I’d chalked it up to hormones, but even after Gemma was born and then when she was pregnant with Landon, the woman was aggressive. She’d hit me more than once, and I’d let her. But she’d never hit Gemma, until Monday, that is. Seeing her with her arm wrapped so tightly around Harper, pressing a knife to her throat, I realized then and there, had she stayed and been a mother to the children, I could have come home from work one day to a tragedy.

  I cleared my throat and took another step forward, reaching out so my hand fell on top of Meegan’s. Her whole body shook. Gently, I wrapped my fingers around the back of her hand and tugged it and the knife away from Harper’s throat and holding my arm out behind me, waited for one of the cops to take it. Seconds later, it was gone from my hand. Harper’s eyes remained on mine, and her chest rose and fell erratically. When the blade came away, I noticed a thin slice along her neck that was bleeding badly but probably wouldn’t require stitches—thank God.

  With the same calm movements, I unwrapped Meegan’s other arm from Harper’s neck, and Harper quickly ducked away, falling to the floor, grabbing a tea towel to press to her neck. Now I had both of Meegan’s hands, and as quickly as I could, I whipped her around, brought her back to my chest, crossed her arms and tugged them to the side, putting her into a hold. Her chin fell to her chest, and she started to sob.

  The sound of boots on the tile floor and jingling handcuffs filled my ears, mixing with the sobbing of Lillian, Carly, Quinn and Meegan.

  “Miss Cooper?” Constable Griffin said, coming to stand in front of Meegan and me.

  Meegan’s head lifted.

  “Miss Cooper, I’m Constable Griffin. This is Staff Sargent Palowski,” Officer Griffin said again. “We’d like to ask you some questions. If you’ll come with us down to the police station, we can do it there, so we don’t upset the children.”

  I couldn’t see Meegan’s face, but I felt her whole body stiffen.

  “It’s okay,” I murmured. “I’ll call your parents, and they’ll meet you down there. We’re going to get you some help. Nobody is mad. We just don’t want anyone to get hurt. You’re not yourself, Meegan. We just want to help you. You’re not in trouble.”