I Do With You (Maple Creek)

Chapter 19 HOPE

Chapter 19

H OPE

I watch in disbelief as Leeson takes Ben out of Let’s F*rk in handcuffs. How did this become my life? I’ve gone from boring to a soap opera in a matter of days. Oddly, I feel more alive than I ever have.

With fury. With power. With confidence.

“Hope, I know you didn’t mean any of that. You’re confused, is all,” Roy says, as if he has a single clue what the hell I am. “Dad’ll take care of that asshole, and when he’s gone, you’ll start thinking straight again. Shoot, we can probably still get married next weekend if the judge is available.”

He chuckles, like every bit of my heart that I poured out on the floor between us is nothing more than me being a silly goose, and we can go right back to where we were a couple of days ago—at the altar, getting hitched. He even throws an arm over my shoulders and pulls me to his side like he’s done hundreds of times, talking to me like I’m a child who needs to be coaxed into making the right decision. You like broccoli. It’s good for you. Eat it all up like a nice girl.

Except Roy’s the green vegetable I don’t want. I mean, the life I don’t want. One where he controls everything and I’m expected to go along with what he deems best. One where I squash down any thoughts or feelings I might have that are contrary to his so that I’m seen as a good girlfriend, fiancée, and wife. One where I do everything to serve him and make his life better while all I get is the silent satisfaction of a job well done because fuck knows, Roy will never notice or care what I’ve done for him. One where the sum total of my existence is as Mrs. Roy Laurier. Not Hope. Not me.

I’ve got one thing to say to that.

“Fuck off, Roy Laurier.”

Glaring at him with contempt, I knock his arm from my shoulder and grab my bag from the table, leaving our half-eaten sandwiches there. Which also pisses me off because Let’s F*rk makes the absolute best sandwiches.

On second thought, I grab mine and take a huge, messy bite, and then, with a full mouth, I tell him again, “It’s over. Done. Kaput. Leave me alone.” A piece of lettuce falls to the floor, landing right on the stupid roses.

I don’t even like roses—they smell like old-lady lotion—and Roy knows that. Or he should, if he paid a single bit of attention to any of my floral designs for the wedding. I talked to him about it—or at least, I tried to—with pictures, price lists, and options from the florist. No roses—no white, red, or pink ones were in my bouquet, the arch, or even sprinkled down the aisle. Yet he brought me stereotypical red roses thinking I would swoon at his feet.

I jerk the bag onto my shoulder and stomp toward the door, going out right as Deputy Leeson is coming back in. I must look like a bull in a china shop, because he moves out of my way, letting me bust into the sunshine outside just in time to see another sheriff’s SUV pulling away. Ben must be in there.

There are a few people frozen on the sidewalk, but they all focus quickly on me, staring and stepping back a bit to give me some space like I’m a firework about to go off. Some look concerned or maybe shocked; some seem evilly delighted at my apparent drama and trauma.

“Hamburger Help-me, now what?” I mutter to myself.

“Are you getting back together with Roy?” a high school–age girl asks me.

“No,” I grit out through clenched teeth.

I might not know where I’m going or what I’m doing, but my feet start moving again as I push my way through the small crowd and don’t stop until I’m sitting in Ben’s rental car.

And finally, in the false privacy of the car, the tears come.

I cry for the girl I was. I cry for the woman I’m becoming. I cry for the life I’m leaving behind and the one I’m building. I cry for Ben. I even cry for Roy because I hate being so blunt, but I need him to hear me when I say we’re done.

And when I’m all cried out, I call Dad.

“Honey? Where are you?” he answers.

He must’ve already heard what happened. I’m sure the whole town’s talking about me again. “I’m still downtown. I’m going to the cottage, though. Ben said he’d meet me there when he gets out. Can you—”

I don’t have to ask. He cuts me off. “We’re on our way, there in ten. Be careful driving.”

The line goes dead, and my new mission is plotted. I back out of the parking spot and drive straight to the Cottage Resort.

When I arrive, Dad’s truck and Joy’s Mini are already there, although they’re parked in the neighbor’s spaces so I have room to pull in front of Ben’s unit. I don’t know how they got here so fast, but I’m glad they did. When I climb out, I realize Mom is in Dad’s truck with him, and somehow, Shepherd is folded up into the passenger seat of Joy’s Mini. It looks like a clown car as he unpacks himself from the tiny vehicle, but I can’t laugh. Not when Ben’s in jail and it’s my fault.

“Let’s get inside,” Mom says, taking charge.

She guides me to the couch and pushes me gently onto it. She and Joy take up position on either side of me while Dad and Shep stand, looming in the corner like gargoyles ready to fight. I think shock might be setting in, because I feel numb and cold.

“Walk us through it,” Dad clips out. His arms are crossed over his chest, his feet spread wide, and his eyes narrowed. But nothing about him makes me feel like he’s mad at me. Oh, he’s furious, but it’s because someone hurt his baby girl, and he wants to be sure he fucks up the right person, in the right way.

I tell them about Ben and I happily sitting at Let’s F*rk, talking about me going to California to see him and excitedly kissing, when Roy came in with roses and all but accused me of cheating on him.

“You hate roses,” Joy interjects.

“I know, right?” I answer, rolling my eyes.

Dad clears his throat pointedly.

Oh yeah. Where was I?

I tell them the rest—the shit-talking, Roy throwing the first punch but Ben beating Roy up pretty bad, the deputy showing up but not caring that Roy started it and then saying he was going to take them down to the station to sort it out.

“Did they take Roy?” Mom questions.

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I left when Leeson came back in, trying to catch Ben outside, but I was too late.”

“They did,” Shepherd replies, “though not in handcuffs like Ben. Roy got in the front seat like he was going for a parade ride around town.” He waves a hand like he’s the homecoming queen in the annual parade—elbow, elbow, wrist, wrist.

Mom whips her head his way. “How do you know that?”

He flinches at the full effect of her Mom-eye stare. “Uh, it’s on social media. I guess somebody saw Roy buying flowers and knew the sitch—” He tries to hide it, but he shamelessly points at me because I’m obviously the situation , but I’m too exhausted to care. “So she videoed him, thinking it was gonna be this sweet reunion thing. But she filmed the whole thing—fight, deputies, and all—and it’s got hundreds of views already.”

“Let me see,” Mom says, holding her hand out for Shepherd’s phone. He hesitates for a split second because no one wants to give their parent their phone, but when Mom shakes her hand, he drops it into her palm, not willing to fight that battle right now. I just pray he doesn’t get any dirty text messages while Mom’s looking at it. He’d never live it down. Of course, that’s mostly because Joy and I wouldn’t let him.

A few clicks later, we’re crowded around, watching what went down in real time.

“Oh, hell yeah!” Shepherd crows when Ben punches Roy. “Your boy’s got hands, Hope.” He mimics the three-punch combo Ben does on the screen, and I wonder how many times he’s watched this already. “Damn, that must’ve felt good. I’m so jealous! I’ve wanted to do that for years, and this guy rolls into town and steals my thunder by doing it first.”

“You’re jealous Ben fought Roy?” I repeat in shock. Hockey players are weird. Or maybe guys in general. Or maybe it’s just my brother who’s strange.

“Of course I am! Never liked that weaselly weasel. You’re too good for him. Of course, you’re too good for Ben too. And any other guy on planet Earth,” he assures me.

“So, Martians?” Joy suggests helpfully, arching a brow.

“Nah, probably not them either,” Shep answers.

“Guys,” Mom sighs, shushing my brother and sister. “Hope, how do you feel about all this?” She waves Shep’s phone, reminding him that she has it, and he snatches it out of her hand, trying to act nonchalant about it but failing spectacularly.

I shrug and admit, “I don’t know. It all happened so fast. I’m sorry Roy’s hurting, but he had no right to act like I was doing something wrong. I was pretty blunt at the end, though, so hopefully, he gets it this time.”

“Blunt like an eighteen-wheeler to the heart. Vroom, beep beep beep, vroom,” Joy mumbles, making it sound like I ran over Roy’s heart, backed up, and did it again.

Yeah, in addition to seeing the fight, my family watched through the video to see me basically eviscerate Roy. I’m not sure how they’ll feel about that, given they’ve treated Roy like a son for so long, but I won’t take it back. I did what I had to do, just like Ben did.

“No second thoughts, then?” Mom asks, and I shake my head vehemently. “Okay.” She nods, checking off one concern. “And what about Ben? You said you were talking about going to California before the fight. How do you feel now?”

She’s worried about me. I can see it in her eyes.

“Maybe a fists-first approach isn’t always best, but Ben’s not a needlessly violent guy,” I assure Mom, knowing she may not like my answer. “He was defending me the way he knows how to and taking care of me the way he always does. Yeah, this time was a little more aggressive—not feeding me, carrying me to bed when I’m drunk, or listening to me—but it was warranted.”

“Yeah, it was,” Shep adds, sounding like it could’ve been a cold-blooded back-alley jumping and he’d still be okay with it.

Mom looks unsure. I get it. We’re a hockey family and have dealt with Shepherd fighting, breaking bones—his and others—and holding grudges, but that’s on the ice. Off-ice, throwing hands isn’t an automatic go-to for anyone we know, despite my brother talking a good game.

I want my family to understand, though, because it might be fast, but there’s something special between Ben and me, and I’m not letting him go. “I came into Ben’s life with drama and chaos, and he caught me, held me, and supported me while I put my pieces back together. And he’s never judged me once. He didn’t pick me apart or try to change me to fit an image he already had. He just accepted me, messy train wreck that I am and the happy woman I’m becoming, celebrating the beauty in both. I can be imperfect, impulsive, bold, loud, or anything I want. I can be me with him. I can breathe, and fly, and crash, and he’s got me. I know that makes no sense, but it’s true. What happened today? It’s on me, Mom, not him.”

“Besides, a rough-and-tough guy that’ll fight for you is kinda sexy,” Joy whispers in support.

“Not helping,” I tell her, seeing the sharp arch of Mom’s brows, but I appreciate her ride-or-dieness.

“Lorie, you saw what I saw,” Dad tells Mom, and they lock eyes. I’ve seen my parents do this countless times over the years and know there’s an entire multilevel conversation happening behind their gaze. They understand each other that well.

I want that. I won’t settle for less.

I want that with Ben, and I think, with time, we can have it. Look at how far we’ve come in such a short period of time already.

“That man cares for you. More than he probably realizes. Definitely more than you understand, honey,” Dad says, giving me a shrewd look. “Be careful with your heart and his. But mostly yours. As for Roy? Fuck that kid— and his father.”

There’s a moment of pure, utter silent stillness, and then we all bust up. I’m crying and laughing at the same time, and so is Mom. Dad, Joy, and Shep are just laughing, I think.

I guess Dad didn’t like Roy’s “romantic gesture” any more than I did.

“Now what?” Mom asks, looking at me. I didn’t become a Planner Extraordinaire by accident. I learned it at her side, and she needs a next step, and then another after that.

“If the whole town’s seen that video, then everyone knows Roy started the fight—”

“And Ben ended it,” Shep retorts happily, snapping his fingers, “like that.”

“So he should be here soon,” I say with certainty. I look toward the front door like he’s going to walk through right this instant.

But hours pass, and though I hear a car door slam shut outside, it’s the neighbors, and Ben doesn’t come back to the cottage.

Finally, I can’t stand it anymore. “I’m going down there, to the sheriff’s department.”

“No you’re not. I am,” Dad says sternly before jerking his chin at my brother. “C’mon, Shepherd.”

Shep gives me a look of solidarity and a fist bump as he passes by. “We’ll get your guy, Hope. Maybe the next viral video can be you greeting him ... Coming Home from Prison, Part One. We’ll have to put that on OnlyFans with a subscription fee, though. Ohhhhh yeahhhhhh. ”

“Shepherd!” Mom warns, and though he grins, he scoots out the door too quickly for her to say much else.

But when they leave, I can’t sit here and do nothing.

I should call Sean. Ben has said twice to call him if anything went wrong, and this is definitely sideways and upside down. He’d want him to know, right? I don’t think he can do anything to get Ben out, but he’s Ben’s person, so waiting until tomorrow feels wrong.

I pick up Ben’s phone, type in the too-easy passcode, and scroll through his contacts, searching for one name and one name only.

Sean. I find a Sean Paulson and hit call. It rings twice before connecting.

“You ready to apologize now, fucker?” a rough voice spits out.

“Excuse me?” I say, pulling the phone away from my ear to double-check that I called the right person. Oh shit, what if there’s more than one Sean in Ben’s contacts and I called the wrong one?

“Who’re you, and why do you have Ben’s phone?” the man demands.

I swallow thickly. “Um, hi. My name’s Hope. Ben told me to call Sean if something went wrong. Like his emergency contact, I guess? Are you the right—”

He cuts me off. “What happened?”

“He was arrested ...” I give Sean a quick rundown of Ben’s fight and subsequent arrest, making sure to say several times that it wasn’t his fault and we’ve got video proof of that, so it’ll probably all be fine, but ... “I just thought you should know because Ben talks about you like you’re the most important person in the world to him. His brother, is what he said.”

A heavy sigh comes through the phone. “You’re her, aren’t you?”

“Who?”

“The girl he’s been writing lyrics about,” he explains slowly, which seems to be for my benefit, like he thinks I won’t understand what he’s talking about.

“Maybe? He told me a line or two. You’ve seen the song he’s working on?” I ask, praying that I’m not divulging something Ben would prefer to keep private. But Sean knows Ben’s been writing lyrics about me, so he must know something.

He scoffs, which turns into a full-on laugh. “Of course I have. He shows me all the songs, seeing as how we write them together.”

“Oh, okay. Good. So, about the arrest,” I say, getting back to the topic at hand. “I guess I’ll have Ben call you when he gets back? I just thought you should know.”

I hear a loud creak and some shuffling on the other end of the line, and I get the sense Sean just sat up from wherever he’s lounging. “Shit,” he hisses. “You don’t know, do you?”

I blink, not sure what he’s talking about. This guy might be Ben’s near-brother, but he’s confusing as hell and talks in riddles and circles, using curse words like conjunctions, a.k.a. to join every part of a sentence. “Know what ?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck. Okay, Ben’s arrested, hasn’t come back,” he summarizes. “Yeah? Where are you?”

“At the cottage where we’re staying, in Maple Creek.”

“Where the fuck’s that?” he demands, but immediately adds, “Hang on, I’ll find it.” I can hear him clicking on a keyboard. “Okay, I gotcha. Give me a few hours and I’ll be there. Where do I meet you?”

“What? You’re coming? Here?” I squeak. I didn’t expect that—not at all.

“Address. Where do I fucking meet you, Hope?” he repeats.

I give him the name of the resort and our cottage number, and he hums, which I take as acknowledgment. But wait ... “Aren’t you in LA? How’re you gonna be here in a few hours from there?”

He laughs, the sound dark and low. “Girl, you have no fucking idea. I’ll see you soon.”

With that, the line goes dead. I look at the phone, thinking maybe we got disconnected, but nope, Sean hung on me. I look at Joy and Mom, then shrug. “That was weird as hell, but he said he’s coming.”