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“What’s going on over there? Ma’am, do you need help?” A dark-haired man files out of his house, a shotgun in his hand, and though guns technically scare me, the sound of his voice as he continues down the drive fills me with a sense of safety.
“Ma’am, I’m not here to hurt you, or scare you. I see you’re being harassed. Do I need to call the cops?”
“Yes, please. Yes.” And if this isn’t bad to begin with—Meadow starts screaming again from the back seat.
My hero pulls for his phone. “And you, over there, scaring both this woman and her child, I’d suggest you get the hell out of here and drop her purse in her seat as you go.”
Jimmy pushes around the front of the car, but the stranger, who I’d only seen on a few occasions since he started living in Mr. Walter’s rental, leans the shotgun over a little to make it more prevalent for Jimmy.
“Do you know who I am? I’m both the husband and the father. I can be here whenever I want to.”
This isn’t true, and Jimmy knows it.
“Well, regardless, it looks like your welcome has come and gone, so get the hell off her property and don’t come back.”
I hold my breath, all the while his phone is on speaker and a 911 dispatcher picks up.
He gives the address and by the time my hero hangs up, my good for nothing ex-husband has tucked his tail and almost run to his beat-up jalopy, scurrying off. At least he dropped my purse.
After the hour of interviews with the police and a call in to my lawyer, I scour the outside for any sign of my rescuer and can’t find him.
Meadow is asleep before her head hits the pillow, and I take the opportunity, with her video baby monitor in hand, to run next door to thank him.
The house is dark, not a light on, and the small Prius that’s normally in the drive is gone. It’s weird how quickly he left. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be given a chance to thank him. But I’ll never forget him.
