“So I guess you’re going to wait until I’ve been stabbed forty times and lying in my own pool of blood before you grant me a restraining order?” Megan glared.
She had risen at six a.m. after a sleepless night, dressed Cooper, and driven to the police station by 7:30 a.m. Megan had recounted her encounters with Ryan before asking to file a complaint.
The officer put his hands on his hips. “Ma’am, you need to keep calm. If he does something, then I’ll be able to help you. Until then…”
Cooper pulled on her hair, and Megan switched him to her other arm. “If he does something? If he does something?”
Officer Hanson shrugged. “My hands are tied.”
“No, my hands will be tied. I’ll be bound and gagged before you do anything.”
“Keep—”
“If you tell me to keep calm one more time…” Megan released a plume of air. She struggled to control her temper. Before Ryan Oakes crossed her path, she had been a sane, even-tempered woman. Now she was like a volcano, constantly on the verge of eruption.
“I’ll patrol the area,” Officer Hanson said. “That’s the best I can do.”
Megan rolled her eyes at his patronizing tone. Cooper fussed in her arms. She needed to put him down, but he couldn’t roam the police station. “Thanks, but no thanks.” She stormed out of the station and stomped to her car.
“Eat, Mommy,” Cooper said.
Megan held back tears. “I’m sorry, baby. Mama is going to feed you now. We’ll go to McDonald’s and get pancakes.”
Cooper kicked and squealed. “Pancakes… pancakes…”
She opened the door to the Lexus and fought with the car seat in the back. She missed her Lincoln but had to sell it to pay some bills. She couldn’t very well eat a luxury car with ketchup. Megan secured Cooper before entering the vehicle.
A car whizzed by. She squinted. That car seemed familiar. She thought she had seen it when she left her home. Her heart thundered. Was she being followed?
Megan shook her head. Ryan Oakes was making her paranoid. Officer Hanson was right. She needed to calm down.
“Pancakes, Mommy,” Cooper said. His face scrunched, and Megan knew a wail was coming next. She quickly started the engine and pulled off in search of the big yellow arches.
After sating Cooper’s tummy with pancakes bathed in butter and syrup, Megan stopped by her bank to speak with a loan officer.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Higgins, but…”
Denied.
She spent fifteen minutes sobbing and praying before she had the strength to drive home. Fortunately, Cooper had fallen asleep. She kept glancing at her beautiful son as fear surrounded her heart. She knew she needed to trust God and in all things be content, but she was worried about how she could provide for her child.
Even though Megan knew she would be losing the last piece of Jackson, she realized she would have to sell the house and downsize. She would have her memories and pictures to console her and share with Cooper. Cooper would grow up knowing the good things about his father.
A good man who killed himself? More like a selfish man who left me and his young son to fend for themselves.
“No,” she breathed and pushed the betraying thoughts out of her mind. She stole a glance at her cherub asleep in the back of the car. “Jackson wouldn’t commit suicide. He had plenty to live for. He had to have been murdered.”
When Megan pulled into her driveway, her mouth dropped open. At least a dozen men were working on her lawn and her door, and someone was pressure washing the house. She gathered Cooper, didn’t speak to the men, and rushed into her home, double locking the door. It was all too much.
She knew who she needed to call. She placed Cooper in the playpen to finish his nap. Ryan answered on the third ring.
“How are you, beautiful?”
“What are you doing?” she raged. “My yard is raining men, and believe me, I’m not shouting hallelujah!”
Ryan laughed. “Sweetheart, I swear, your sense of humor is giving me life.”
“I’m losing my mind!” she yelled. “Why can’t you leave me alone?”
“I don’t understand why you’re upset. You should be thanking me.”
“Thanking you for being the biggest nuisance this planet has seen since the likes of Donald Trump?” Her body shook.
“Hey, take it easy on The Donald,” Ryan said, good-naturedly. “I voted for him.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Megan’s chest tightened. “You would vote for the devil to get ahead.”
“Wrong,” he said, laughing.
Megan shook her head. She had a flashback of Donald Trump’s debate with Hillary Clinton when Trump countered everything she said with “wrong.” She had found it annoying then and even more now.
Megan opened her mouth to tell him off when she gasped and couldn’t breathe. She tried to catch her breath, but her body refused to cooperate. Her body swayed. “Please God, no. Don’t let me die like this…” She staggered over to a chair. “Jesus!” she called out.
“Megan? Megan?”
Megan heard the panic in his voice, but her labored breathing prevented her from responding.
“Megan, answer me. Megan?”
Megan felt the phone slip from her hand. Her chest tightened. She thought she was having a heart attack.
One minute she was standing and the next she was on the ground.
Did I do enough for God? Have I been the kind of child who would hear Him say, “Well done, my good and faithful servant?”
Tears slid from her eyes as she pictured Cooper asleep in his playpen, not knowing his mother could be drawing her last breath. Who would take care of him?
Her eyes widened when she realized she had no one. No one to take care of Cooper when she was gone. She sobbed. She didn’t want her son to find her like this. It would traumatize him for life. Please, God.
Maybe one of the workers would come inside and find her. Then she remembered she had bolted the doors. Her hope deflated.
Megan gasped for air. Her chest felt so tight. Breathe. Breathe. Stay alive. Keep your eyes open.
Mommy loves you, Cooper. Did he know that?
She had to stay alive to tell him that. She saw spots before her eyes. Why was this happening to her? She wanted to call out for help, but all she could breathe out was, “Cooper…”