Inseparable

“Well, I went and spoke with him. You see I saw…”

“Funny.” I hissed. “What did you do? Give him some pointers. Tell him what I like and what I don’t like. You’re just a gentleman all around, aren’t you, Lucas.”

“No. You’ve got it all wrong.” He tried to walk up to me but I backed up.

"You see that line there. That is what separates the public property from private property. Cross over onto my private property and I'm calling the cops. Don't think I won't."

“If you’d just listen to me for a minute.”

“I gave you a minute before and I can’t get that back. Your time is up.”

“No, Tilly. This is important.”

“I’ve had it.” I turned around and headed back to my front door with 9-1-1 dialed on my phone.

“Tilly, please.”

"Hi. My name is Telula Grant. I'm at 471 Burr oak Lane. There is a guy here on my property and he will not leave. Yes, I know him. His name is Lucas Prine."

“Tilly, are you kidding me?” Lucas yelled.

"He's trespassing," I reported.

The emergency operator asked me a few other questions. Was I inside or outside my house? Was the man inside or outside my house? Did I think I was in danger?

"I don't think so," I replied honestly. If the operator thought I was wasting her time or overreacting it didn't come out in her voice. She told me a squad car was on the way.

"Ma'am, can you make it to your front door?"

“Yes. I can.”

She instructed me to go inside and wait for police.

“Tilly, this is serious. Fine. You know what? I’m glad you called the police!” Lucas shouted. “That’s exactly who we need right now! I swear, Tilly, you are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met!”

There was that same word Sandy had used to describe me. Before Lucas could say anything else I went to my house and slammed the front door shut, snapping the deadbolt into place.

"I'm inside," I told the operator.

She talked to me while I watched out the front window and had me describe Lucas as best I could. I didn't dare tell her how I really saw him, devastatingly handsome after all these years. He'd grown into a man at least physically. Instead, I gave the operator a generic portrait. About six foot two. One hundred seventy-five pounds. Black hair. Drives a Ferrari.

“Well, that out to be easy to spot.” The operator replied.

Finally, the blue and red lights of the patrol unit arrived. I thanked the operator and watched out the window as Lucas walked right up to the squad car.

“He’s talking to the police.” I hissed. “I don’t believe this. He’s chatting with them.”

Two officers got out of the car and shined their flashlights on Lucas as he handed over his wallet. I know it’s a horrible thing to think but why couldn’t these two guys be a couple of those bad cops that are reported in the news all the time? Why couldn’t they shake him down, rough him up and send him on his way?

Okay, my emotions were getting the best of me. I didn’t want to see that. There was no reason for two perfectly good cops to get their uniforms messed up over a guy like Lucas.

“What the heck is going on? I’m the one who called. I’m the one who n

eeds help. I’ll bet they don’t even come and talk to me. He’ll slip them some money and they’ll forget all about this call. I can see that happening.”

But I was wrong. The second officer headed toward the house. When he knocked on the front door I opened it up and blinked nervously.

“You called about a trespassing?”