Her mother held the paper and pen out to Harlow, “Well,” she said, “put it in writing.”
Harlow sighed and took the paper from her mother. She sat down next to her and said aloud what she was writing on the paper. “I, Harlow Eden, promise to marry Ryker if my mama agrees to stay in the hospital and be nice to the kind doctors and nurses who just want to take care of her.” Her mother barked out her laugh and Harlow handed the pen and paper back to her. “Your turn, Mama,” she said. “I need for you to put into writing that you agree to stay tonight.”
“You don’t trust your own mother?” her mom asked.
Harlow laughed, “You didn’t trust your own daughter, Mama,” she reminded. Her mother snatched the paper and pen from her hand and wrote, “I agree,” and signed the paper. Harlow took it back and signed underneath her statement and handed everything back to the doctor.
“Would you mind holding onto our very legal document?” Harlow asked.
“Oh—have him sign it too, as a witness,” her mother insisted.
“Fine,” Harlow sighed. “Would you mind signing it too, please?” she asked.
“My pleasure,” the doctor mumbled. He signed it and shoved both the pad of paper and the pen back into his pocket. “Now that we have that formality over with, can I proceed to have your mother moved upstairs and admitted?” he asked.
“Sure,” Harlow agreed. “Thank you, doctor,” she quickly added. He nodded and walked out of the room.
“Can you believe how young he is?” her mother asked. “I’m betting he hasn’t even graduated from medical school yet.”
“I have,” he shouted back through the curtain, letting them both know that he had overheard her mother’s comment.
Harlow shook her head at her mother. “What am I going to do with you, Mama?” she asked.
Her mother shrugged, “Just be sure to be back here bright and early in the morning,” her mother insisted. “I want out of this place as soon as possible.”
“I will be, Mama,” Harlow said. She leaned over to kiss her mom’s forehead. “I’m just glad that you’re okay.”
“One of the cops that came out to the house called my cell phone. They want to come to question me but have agreed to wait until I’m back home. Can you let them know that won’t be until tomorrow?” her mom asked.
“Of course,” Harlow agreed. “Was that why you wanted to go home so badly?”
“Partially,” her mother admitted. “I want to make sure that woman can’t hurt you or Iris again,” she said.
“If you press charges, it will help,” Harlow said. “Are you willing to do that, Mama?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” her mother agreed. “I want them to toss her ass in a jail cell and throw away the key.” Harlow giggled at the visual that her mother painted for her.
“Thanks, Mama,” Harlow said. “It’s a relief knowing that we might be at the end of this mess, you know?” she asked.
“I bet it is,” her mother agreed. “And now, you’re going to go tell that handsome biker of yours that you’ll marry him, right?” she asked.
“She already has,” Ryker said, standing by the open curtain, holding Iris. Her daughter looked much happier holding her bag of French fries and burger in one hand while shoveling the fast-food into her mouth with the other hand.
“What?” her mother asked, looking less happy by the second.
“Well, we’ve got to go, Mama,” Harlow said. She walked around the small room to Ryker and Iris, tugging him along with her. “See you in the morning,” she promised, not bothering to look back over her shoulder. She knew that she’d find her mother good and pissed off and that was the last thing she wanted to deal with right now.
“Was I not supposed to tell her that you agreed to marry me?” Ryker asked.
“It’s a long story, one that will be best shared when we are safely in your truck and a few miles away from here,” she said. She left off the part about wanting to be far away from her mother, but she’d fill him in on all of that on the way home.
* * *
Harlow told Ryker about her deal with her mom, loving the way that it made him laugh. They hadn’t had many occasions to laugh like that and it was nice to hear Ryker be so happy.
“Remind me never to negotiate with you, honey,” he said. “You’re a con artist.”
“Am not,” she insisted. “I just know how to get my way,” she said.