“I’m not leaving today! This is my mother’s last weekend of freedom. You can’t expect me to abandon her.”
“Dear, maybe it’s for the best. I don’t want you to see me being taken into custody. That’s not the last image of me I want you to have for the next few weeks.”
“Weeks? What do you mean weeks? I’m going to visit you before that.”
“They don’t allow prisoners to have visitors for the first couple of weeks, an adjustment period or something. My attorney explained it all to me. I have to notify you once they allow it. I put you on a visitor list and they have to approve you.”
“Approve me?” I squeak.
“Which of course they will, dear, you’re my daughter.”
“Put me on, too,” Santos says.
I whirl on him. “Why would she do that?”
“So you don’t have to walk in that place alone.”
I hadn’t thought of that, but he had. I stare at the floor, and then pace away. I hate this. I hate all of it.
“You should go pack some things, Kami. Whatever you need for three months,” Santos says.
Apparently my husband is already ordering me around. I want to laugh and cry at the same time. Three months with a man I barely know. Well, it’s done now, so I have to just get through it. I try to be practical and think of what needs to be done. “What about the rest of my things, mother?”
“I’ve arranged for a company to come pack them up and transport them to storage tomorrow.”
Everything is happening so fast. I look over at Santos. “How many bags can I bring?”
“Many as you can fit in the back of my pickup, short cake, though I doubt you’ll need that much room, right?”
“You don’t know my daughter, Santos. She’s a bit high-maintenance.”
“Great.”
The doorbell chimes, and I exchange a look with my mother. “Were you expecting anyone?”
She ignores me and moves to answer the door. I follow, and Santos falls in with us.
Mother swings the tall door open. Two people stand there, a woman and a man, both in suits.
“Mrs. Mansfield?”
“Yes?”
“I’m Felicia Caldwell with Social Services. I’m here to pick up your daughter.”
“What?” I back away, and the woman looks at me.
“Are you,” she glances at her paperwork, “Kami? You’ll need to come with us. You’re allowed one bag.”
“What?”
She moves to take my arm, but Santos steps between us, and backs them up.
“You’re not taking my wife anywhere.” He glares down at the woman with a look I’ve never seen on him before—a don’t-fuck-with-me look that’s all business, and a thrill moves through me at the fact that he’s so quick to defend me.
“I beg your pardon? I’m an officer of the court, now get out of my way.” Miss Caldwell, it seems, isn’t so easily intimidated. The man with her steps forward.
“Look, buddy, we’re just doin’ our job here. We have a court order to take the kid into custody.”
Santos takes a step toward the man, and I’m suddenly afraid he’s going to take a swing. “One, I’m not your buddy. And two, you lay one hand on my wife, I’ll break your fucking arm.”
This is escalating quickly. Mother and I step out into the portico. Santos puts his arm up in a protective stance, trying to keep me behind him.
Thankfully mother jumps in. “There’s been a misunderstanding. My daughter got married today, so the courts have no jurisdiction over her. My attorney just went to file the paperwork.”
“Until I’ve been notified otherwise, she’s going to have to come with us.”
“I have a copy of their marriage license inside if you’d care to see. Judge Harlan presided. I’m sure he’d love for you to call him to clear this all up.”
Mother, God love her, has never been one to shy away from throwing her weight around. She knows exactly how powerful that name drop is.
“Judge Harlan?” Felicia Caldwell repeats in a much more reserved voice.
“Yes, he’s a close friend of the family. Please, come in and we’ll call him together. I’m sure he won’t mind you disturbing him.”
“No, that won’t be necessary. If you have the license…” Miss Caldwell back pedals.
“Of course. One moment.” My mother steps away to fetch it, and my eyes flick between Santos and the guy in the suit. Neither one is backing down; they’re both just glaring at each other.
I slip my arm around Santos and snuggle up to him, like a happy little bride, trying to diffuse the situation. “Baby, relax.”
“I’ll relax when they get the hell off the property.”
Mother’s heels click as she scurries back to us.
“Here it is. See for yourself.”
Felicia snatches it from her hand and scans the document. Her cell vibrates and she pulls it out and looks at the incoming text. She turns to her co-worker. “It’s legitimate. The order’s just been rescinded.”
She hands the document back to my mother and they both walk back to the black sedan parked in the turnabout.
Santos rubs my back, his eyes locked on the car until it pulls away. I can’t deny the feeling of security I feel when he touches me. Perhaps my mother is right. Perhaps he’ll take good care of me like he promised her he would. If that little demonstration was any indication, maybe I’m in good hands.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kami—
“I’ll go upstairs, and dig out your suitcases,” my mother says, going back inside and giving us a moment alone—our first since the ceremony.
“Thank you for that,” I murmur to Santos when she’s gone.
“For what, protecting you? It’s what I said I’d do.”
I stare out over the long drive, watching the black sedan disappear out of sight. In a minute I’m going to have to go upstairs and pack my bags and leave my mother.
“You okay?”
“How will I ever say goodbye? How will I survive without her? I’m not strong enough.”
Santos steps behind me, his hands landing on my upper arms. “You’ll be strong enough, because you have to be.” He squeezes. “Hey, look at me.” When I do, he pins me with his penetrating gaze, dipping his head to mine. “I’m here. You’ve got me now, and I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. Understand?”
I nod, and feel like crying.
“Kami, the women in my family have always been the strong ones. They held the family together. My great-grandma shoveled coal into the furnace during a cold New York winter and then went upstairs and gave birth to my grandfather alone. And just like them, I’m sure you’re stronger than you know. You’ll get through this, and you’ll come out the other side of it, and you’ll do it with your head held high, yeah?”
I nod again.
“Say it.”
“I’ll come through this.”
“With…”
“With my head held high.”
He smiles. “Okay. Now go pack.”