I called him Mr. Pierson because he was my boss but he was also Mr. Pierson, a father figure, like your best friend’s Dad who you wished was your Dad. But Mitch was the kind of guy who held authority not just because of his job but because of how he generally was so I didn’t suspect many men were “Mr.” anything to him but he was Detective Lawson to them. And he was a guy and Mr. Pierson was a guy and that was just the way of the world.
It hit me that Mitch was Mitch to Mr. Pierson and Mr. Pierson was Bob to Mitch because they’d formed a bond in order to protect me like they were doing just then and that whoosh went through my belly yet again.
So I whispered, “Mitch,” and his name came out heavy with meaning.
Mitch heard it and understood it and I knew he did when he said softly but quickly, “Remember what I said last night about the way it’s gonna be?”
“Yes,” I said quietly.
“Well, that’s the way it’s gonna be. I’m keepin’ you safe. Bob is dealin’ with this. You do your job, you sell mattresses, you come home, we eat chili and I deal with shit that makes you unsafe. Whatever shit that is and however you’re unsafe. You with me?”
That was a good question.
Was I with Mitch?
“Baby, you with me?” he asked into my silence.
I stared unseeing at the action in front of me, considering this question that maybe I was giving more weight than he intended it to have and then my mouth made a decision before my mind caught up.
“I’m with you, Mitch,” I whispered and it was his turn to be silent.
From his silence, I knew that he knew the weight I’d given his question.
I held my breath.
Then he ordered gently, “Go and sell mattresses.”
I pulled in breath. Then I saw the police cruiser pull up to the front door. Then I saw my mother see it and then I heard her screech, “What the fuck? Not again!”
Mitch heard it too.
“Cruiser’s there,” he muttered.
“Marabelle!” Mom shouted as the cops folded out of the car. “You call that stick up his ass cop boyfriend ‘a yours off your aunt and me.”
I took my phone away from my ear, thanked God for the first time in my life there were no customers in the store and tried to be as well-mannered as I could be when I called back, “No! And especially no if you keep saying that about him!”
“Is there a problem here?” one of the newly arrived police officers asked and Mr. Pierson strode forward nodding.
“Jesus! Can’t I talk to my own daughter?” Mom shouted.
“Stick up my ass?” Mitch asked in my ear, again sounding like he was smiling.
I closed my eyes.
“Marabelle! Get over here and talk to these cops!” Aunt Lulamae demanded.
“Mara, sweetheart, you stay right where you are. Those officers have been briefed,” Mitch ordered.
“Right,” I whispered to Mitch.
“Marabelle!” Mom shrieked.
“You okay for me to let you go or do you need me to stay on the line until they’re gone?” Mitch asked in my ear.
I opened my eyes and watched both Mom and Aunt Lulamae snapping at the officers, Mr. Pierson, Roberta and LaTanya while somewhat resisting the officers instructions and therefore they pulled out their handcuffs.
So my answer was, no. No, I was not okay for him to let me go while watching my mother and aunt get handcuffed at the same time my boss and my two best friends watched it too.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
More silence then, “You want beer or wine with chili?”
I blinked at his question as Roberta and LaTanya smiled as the officers shoved my handcuffed mother and aunt toward the doors. This happened while Mr. Pierson stared at them like he’d been talked into going to an avant-garde play he did not get and didn’t much like and I asked distractedly, “What?”
“Beer or wine with chili?” Mitch repeated.
“Um…”
“Beer goes better, baby, but you want wine, I’ll get you wine. We drank all I had last night so you gotta tell me if you want more.”
“Beer’s fine,” I told him.
“You want me to get somethin’ for dessert?”
“Uh…”
The officers were opening the backdoors to their cruiser.
“Ice cream?”
“Um…”
The officers were shoving Mom and Aunt Lulamae in.
“A frozen apple pie?”
“Uh…”
The officers were closing the doors on Mom and Aunt Lulamae.
“The kids and me could swing by Tessa’s Bakery and get cupcakes.”
I’d had those cupcakes, more than once, therefore I stated instantly, “Cupcakes.”
“Right.” And in his tone was another smile.