Chapter 35
I can’t believe it when the police show up.
And how did they get here so quickly? Don’t they have crimes to solve? A little scuffle at a children’s birthday party should not be a high priority.
But only a few minutes after Jeremy calls the police, there is an officer who shows up at the backyard, looking like he’s not thrilled to be working on a Sunday morning. He looks like he’s about five seconds away from taking his gun out and shooting every single one of us.
“What seems to be the problem?” the cop grunts.
“Thank you for coming, Officer,” Jeremy says respectfully. “My ex-wife showed up at my son’s birthday party, and now she is refusing to leave.”
“I’m still your wife!” I shoot back. “And our son wanted me to come!”
Although at this moment, Teddy does not look like he wants me here. He is hugging his skinny arms to his chest, his eyes downcast. He looks like he would like me to leave so he can have his cake and enjoy the rest of his party.
I should probably just head out.
“Okay, ma’am,” the officer grunts at me. “You need to move along so these people can have their party.”
Great. Jeremy is not even letting me have the dignity of leaving on my own. He’s making me get thrown out by a police officer in front of practically everyone I know.
The officer takes my arm to escort me out, and honestly, I have just had enough. I don’t need him to physically drag me out. So I yank my arm away from him, which unexpectedly throws him off-balance so that he nearly falls. He stares at me in surprise.
What happens next happens very quickly. I hear the cop mumbling into some walkie-talkie he pulls off his belt, saying that I’m being “combative.” Which I am absolutely not!
But before I can try to explain that to him, he grabs me by the arm once again, only this time much more roughly.
Then he pushes me down onto the table where I was resting my food and my drink, sending a bunch of plates and juice boxes flying.
The wetness of spilled juice seeps into my blouse as the cop wrenches my arms behind me. A second later, I feel metal rings biting into my wrist. It takes me another second to put together what just happened:
He handcuffed me.
That bastard handcuffed me!
I am frozen with my face pressed against the cold plastic table, sticky with spilled juice boxes and wine.
I can’t seem to move or get up off the table, but then he yanks me roughly back into a standing position.
Every single person at the party is staring at me with equally horrified expressions.
Teddy is sobbing as he cowers against Jeremy’s leg.
“C’mon, lady,” the officer growls at me.
He gives me a shove to get me walking, and I have to be marched out of the backyard of my son’s birthday party in handcuffs with everyone watching.
I think it’s safe to say I won’t be getting any cake.