BOMAW 7-9

by Mercedes Keyes

  "Shawn doesn't want anyone upsetting her, Vivian."

  "I'm not going to upset her!"

  "Stay out of it! Okay? Stay—out of it!"

  "Why? What are you thinking? Maybe it's not too late for you?" She snapped, unable to control herself.

  "No you did not—fuckin' say that to me! That is my brother's wife!"

  "Since when did that mean anything to you?"

  "You know what? I'm gonna do you a favor, and forget you just said that! In exchange, you're gonna do me a favor, and drop it—before you go too far!" He bit out, his jaw muscles clamped tight, causing a tick at his temples. Vivian sat down, sighed long and deep. "I'm sorry. That was wrong, and I shouldn't have said it."

  "No, you shouldn't have. Dammit—I know I haven't been Mr. Wonderful, but—my brother is hurting! Really hurting! And I already thought to go in there and ask her has she lost her mind, but he was emphatic about leaving her alone! I did. You need to do the same. Believe it or not, I'm not happy about this either. So I'm telling you now—every time they have a problem, I'm not gonna have you throwing what you just did in my face!"

  Vivian stood and moved against him, looking up into his eyes, hers remorseful. "I said I was sorry, forgive me?"

  "I don't know if I should." He grumbled, looking down at her, softening in a matter of seconds; sighing, he smiled, quirking a brow at her. "You gonna make it worth my while?"

  Vivian pursed her lips, "Emmm, I think I can accommodate you, make it worth your while." She leaned up against him. He took her in his arms and kissed her hard, wanting her already. Vivian kissed him back and felt him stirring; she stepped away, "Ah, ah, ah, after dinner—when company has left."

  Sylvia was laying on the bed. Running many things through her mind. It was getting late, after eleven at night. The kids were quiet, Angela sad and silent. Crystal gentle and understanding. Mundo glaring and hostile. Her son had been biting his lip all evening. Fighting back saying something to her. She hadn't pushed it, because she wasn't in the mood to. She needed to sort out her life, once and for all. She had to make up her mind, once and for all—about this man she was married to. She thought his words over long and hard. Wondering could she, like him, get up and pretend that what he'd done, hadn't taken place? Whatever it was that he'd done? And everything else he said, stayed on her mind, wouldn't leave it.

  The TV was playing softly in the background. She was laying on her side, her hand absently stroking his side of the bed. She wanted him, that part of him that she'd always loved, but that other part of him—the other man—the man that Bart had made…that man—gave her goose pimples. Frightened her in a way, yet, at no time, did she fear that he would hurt her—at least she didn't think so. It wasn't even just about that, it was about all the outside forces, that said, no—you cannot take the law into your own hands to protect your family, as far as he had—and would. License had to be given to kill. No one had given him license, if—that is—he had killed a man. Sylvia lay realizing that he never admitted to that, refused to. She sighed, and then looked up when her bedroom door slowly came open. Mundo stepped inside.

  Sylvia sat up, "Something wrong?"

  He stood there, staring at her for what seemed an entire minute or more, and then said straight out, "Go get my dad."

  "Wha…what? Your—"

  "You heard me. I tried to leave it alone. I tried. But—it's eleven o'clock at night. Everybody safe, and snug in they bed—safe—and sound—at home. But…but—"

  "Mundo? Son? Come here…" Sylvia called to him, because he was breathing hard, fighting crying.

  "No! I don't wanna come there. I want you…to…to get up…and—go get'im! Go get'im, now! THIS HIS HOUSE! THIS HIS HOME! You…maybe…bought it! But…he made it home…for me! For Crystal! I want him home, now! Got him sleepin'…in some DAMN HOTEL!!!" He shouted, crying.

  "Who do you think you're raising your voice to? Cursing at?"

  "Mama! Ma-maaaa…-I-…ain't got…nobody! I never had…no-body…for me!" He sobbed out. "For the first time…in my life…there is somebody…just…for me!" He was bawling, trying to talk.

  "Mundo? I've always been here for you…always!" Sylvia cried, because she couldn't stand seeing her son this way.

  "It ain't the same, mama! It ain't…the sa-a-ame…mama, it…ain't the same. I need him here…just…just for me-e-e!" He pleaded, crying out of control. "Can you go get him? Mama…please…just for me. Please?" He dropped to his knees and crawled to her bed. "Ple-e-e-ase, mama—you ain't got to give me nothing else—never again!" He pounded his chest. "I swear, nothing else, just don't…take…the one something…I…I ne-e-ed…from me. Don't, mama—I beggin' you. Don't have him sleepin' there—by his-self!"

  Sylvia was crying. "Mundo—you don't understand."

  "Mama, I ain't stupid! I'm young, but I ain't dumb, I been around! You'on think I know what's going on?" He wiped at his tears, looking up at her. "I don't care, mama! Know why? 'Cause in the end, he there—for us! Ain't even gotta be! But he here for us! You forget all that you told me out by that garage, mama? You forget that? How you defended him? It's the same man, mama! He—the same man! He here for us, to the end! When you was gone—HE—WAS HERE! Mama, how you gone be? He can be here through thick and thin for us! But you can't stand up and be there for him? HUH, MAMA? I thought you loved him? I love him! I love him more—THAN MY OWN FLESH AND BLOOD FATHER! If he was still alive and somebody stood them together and said, one has to live, one has to die! And it's up to me? Guess who goin' down? Guess who?"

  Sylvia felt her face burn, staring at her son.

  "You stayed with that other one, and he treated us all—like we wasn't nothin'! And now, you finally—get the genuine article—and you don't know what to do? Huh, mama?"

  She didn't know what to say.

  "You got my daddy, sleepin' in a hotel room, all by himself, like don't nobody give a damn about him? He here for us, but when we need to stand behind him—you gotta think about it? Mama—come on, man—don't do this, mama…don't you dare sit here, and let him pass the night there alone mama - like nobody love him - aaaw mama... please."

  Mundo sniffed, wiped his nose and stared at her.

  Suddenly the door came open and Angela peeked in, tears rolling. "Can we go get my daddy, please?"

  Shawn blew out again. He'd done 150 push-ups. 100 sit-ups. Jumping Jacks for fifteen minutes straight, and then had gone running. Running, fast, hard, 5 miles round trip to exhaustion. Yet, with all that he'd done, the moment he got back to this room and stood still, the tears flowed and again he cried. He never felt so alone in all of his life. It was worse, because he'd had it all. He'd finally had it in the palm of his hands, everything he'd ever wanted, right there.

  In the bathroom, over the sink, he splashed his face again. Stared at himself in the mirror. He should be dead tired on his feet now. He should be able to lie down, and just drift into total unconsciousness. Nothing even close to it did he feel, but the gnawing in his stomach, that he'd lost his family. He'd lost the one woman, he'd known beyond a doubt was his—to stand by him no matter what came their way. He'd been so sure, that she was the one. He kept sniffing and blew his nose again. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, he looked worn out. His eyes red and bleary. His face drawn and strained—red, his neck corded with veins standing out. He felt his chest where his heart beat like mad and for a second, wished that it would just…stop. Just stop beating. He stood staring and thought about his life, wondering what good had it been. It was filled with nothing but one mess, after another. He sniffed again and walked out of the bathroom. Put on his loose house loungers, and was clearing his things off of the bed and grabbed the locked box with the gun. He sat on the bed, and stared at it. Reached over, fiddling with it. Then stood and got the key out of his jacket pocket where he kept it. Went back to the bed, and unlocked it. Lifted the lid and stared at it. He sniffed again, grabbed it and held it, turning it over and over in his hands.

  Thinking.


  Angela had Sylvia and Deidre. Everything he had, would be left to Sylvia, so she would have plenty to take care of herself and the baby. He stared and thought about it. Everyone would be okay—without him. Shanna was safe. Jake was on his way to a new life. He chuckled. He'd been gone for over twenty some odd years. His family had done just fine without him. They hadn't needed him. They didn't need him now. He ran everyone through his mind. Sylvia—she was tough, she hadn't really wanted a man in her life anyway. Hadn't really wanted his child. And didn't want him now. He looked at the gun, and remembered Jesse—dying because of him. Remembered the little girl, who died, inadvertently because of him. He sniffed and touched it against his head, letting the end of the barrel scratch at his temple. Just for the feel of it. Thinking. And just when he figured that it might be the best of solutions, he thought about Mundo.

  Who would be there for him?

  He'd just gotten him on the right path. What would he do, if he did what he was contemplating? How would it effect him? He went over and over in his mind all the possibilities of what this might to do him. And then his own words came back to him. "I love you kid…I love you—and you are—my son…always know that, okay? Never doubt that for a moment. I will always… always be here for you, okay?"

  Shawn sighed. He reached over, lifted the lid to the box, dropped the gun back inside. "I am…a man of my word." He whispered to the empty room. He reached over, and locked the box back up. He was looking for the remote to the TV, thinking it might help to take his mind off of things, when there was a knocking at his door. He turned, looking back at it. Then stood, grabbed his night shirt and pulled it over his head. He walked to the door wondering who it could be at this time of night. He looked at the clock, it was 11:45. "Who is it?" He asked at the door.

  "US, daddy!" He heard more than one voice shout.

  "What the…?" He opened the door to see Sylvia, Mundo—who was holding a sleeping Isaac, Angela, and Crystal who was holding Darren, who was wide awake and grinning at him, they were all there, wearing their pajamas.

  "What..." He was clearly surprised, stunned.

  "You don't know how to bring your butt home, Shawn? You got—your entire family, over there—on that road—all by ourselves—unguarded, unprotected! What…you got something else going on in here, a woman or something?" Sylvia pushed her way in looking around as everyone else followed her in. "Check up under the bed, mama, she probably ran hid her butt under there!" Crystal taunted, looking at him, grinning.

  Shawn started laughing. "Hey! Don't look in that closet! Whatever you do…don't! I can explain!"

  Sylvia turned around in the room, put her hands on her hips, and rolled her head fussing, "Oh, you can—can you? I'd just like to hear you explain! How it's 11 something o'clock—late at night, you got your butt here at some hotel—instead of at home, with your family—in your bed, with your wife! Explain that?" She finished with the toss of her head.

  Shawn chuckled, scratched his head, grinning, "Hmmm, let me think? I'm a fool?"

  "A sad excuse for a fool at that! If you don't pick up all this stuff—" Sylvia started when Mundo cut her off ordering, "Angela, you grab that bag! Crystal—you get that laptop!"

  "I got my baby, you get the laptop!"

  "I got yo' other baby!" Mundo fussed.

  "I'll get the bag..." Angela shouted between them, hands in the air towards both of them. "...I'll get the laptop, don't start arguing!" She ordered.

  "Who you talkin' to, lil'girl? You ain't grown yet! You just the baby! It's past yo' bedtime anyway! If we ain't have to come and get my dad, you'd be tucked away in lullaby land." Mundo fussed. He looked up at Shawn. "See how they get? You ain't been gone but a few hours, and already—they out of control—come on, dad, let's go. In fact, we should just leave they butt here, go ourselves." He grumbled.

  Shawn stood and stared at Mundo, there was something different about him, he just couldn't put his finger on what it was, something in his eyes…then he realized, they were swollen, pink; he'd been crying, his eyes filled again.

  Shawn felt his heart swell, "Well, son, I did kind of pay for this room, for the night - and as much as I do - love you - I'd kind'ah - well, rather - stayed here with your mother, instead."

  Mundo threw his arms up, "Ah, I see how you gone be and thangs, fine - be that way. I'll go." He joked.

  Shawn smiled, "You don't mind do you? I mean, being that you're the man, next in line, I thought you could keep the others under control—just for the night? So that, ah, your mother helps me…not to waste this room?"

  Mundo nodded and smiled. "I can hold it down for you, one night…just one, though."

  "That's all…just one." Shawn promised.

  "Ah'ight—ah'ight—I got it, I got it, I got it! Come on, lil'girl, get that bag, that laptop—lets go! Crystal, you follow suit."

  "Boy please! Don't end up walkin' home!"

  "I ain't worried about walkin' home! I drove ya'll here, in my Blazer! The Blazer—my dad bought me! Anybody walk, it's gone be you!" Their voices tapered off as Mundo closed the door, leaving Shawn and Sylvia in the room alone.

  Shawn took a deep breath, walked to the door, throwing the security bar across it, and locking it. He walked to the large window, looking out, watching the kids make their way to the blazer; once all were in, it started up and pulled out. Taking another breath, he turned to see his wife standing in the middle of the room staring at him. Now alone, they were quiet. Unable to stand the silence, Sylvia was the first to speak up.

  "I am…so sorry…that I let you leave, that house—our home—tonight. I am so sorry. I…I love you…and I…I didn't know…how to handle…handle it."

  "Shhh, it's okay." Shawn called out to her, as he covered the space between them, coming to stand before her. "I didn't mean to cause you—"

  "Don't say anymore." Sylvia reached up and pressed her fingers to his lips. "Let me." She squeaked. "You are…my hero. You…have saved, my son's life…and you don't even know it. He—loves you—with a power that shook me, tonight. I was confused, and…doubtful…scared…" Her lips trembled, she shivered, "…afraid that I didn't know you. But I do." Sylvia reached up with both hands, caressing her husband's face. "I know you…you see—you—are the man…that I was born, created…to love…to be with…to stand by. That's who you are. And every day that goes by, every new thing I learn, no matter how tough, no matter how unsure, what I will be sure of is this—that I'm with you—all the way. Because we—you and I—were meant to be. I saw that tonight. My children love you. My son, he…he cussed at me tonight. At me!"

  "What? I told him—"

  "Ach! Let me…remember?"

  Shawn nodded.

  "He said to me, 'go get my dad''!"

  "That why you came? Because of him?"

  "Yes, that…and…because he was right. You have been there for us, for my children, and I…didn't stand with you. For that, I am ashamed. And I beg you to forgive me."

  "I'm not going to change, Sylvia. I am the way, I will always be. You sure you can handle that?"

  "Yes! I can handle that. You see, I am…a McPherson! No one, will be allowed to come between us! And I promise you, that I will stand by you, be loyal to you, and protect you, with every last breath of my soul. Yes…I can handle it! I may be small, but I'm strong, and I'll be damned, if I'll ever doubt you again. My husband."

  "I love you so much—you don't know how much!" Shawn swore.

  "Yes, I do—if it's anywhere near to what I feel, yes I do. Forgive me?"

  "Yes, oh, yes. Oh, yes!" He swore, squatting low with her standing between his legs, he covered her mouth with his own. His heart beating like mad once again. Soon they moved to the bed. Shedding their clothes, and there…Shawn made slow, careful love to her. Both shaking with their need, sinking into the heavenly bliss that flowed through them both when he entered her body, mindful that he didn't wear the ring. It was fine, because they were both a bit tired, yet elated. It was a drowsy, drunk-on-love kind of matin
g; nice and easy did it…wonderfully.

  In the afterglow, laying close in each other's arms, before they both drifted off to sleep, Sylvia informed him, "My husband…I felt your child, stir within my womb today. It was…a wonderful feeling."

  "Jesse James." Shawn said his name, smiling sleepily. "You know he will be a handful, don't you?"

  "Of course he will be. You are his father, I am his mother; Mundo his brother; Crystal and Angela his sisters; with a grandfather like Bart. A handful—indeed. I can't wait." Sylvia murmured gently, drifting, yawning. Shawn smiled, kissed her brow, his eyes unable to open. "Neither can I." He muttered and then, his last conscious thought was, Thank you—my Lord—God. I Thank you.

  Chapter 192

  With a heavy heart, gripped in a bit of fear, Gert returned after talking to her husband who let her know that he was back home. She was pulling up, after taking another detour to try Kathy Ann's friend again the following day, hoping that she'd at least heard from her...nothing. She hadn't called her back since the last time she'd spoken to her. In hopes of finding her home, she'd gone by the house to find that Dwight had already left with his son, and Jenny Lee was no doubt with her boyfriend; as for Kathy Ann, she was nowhere in sight. For the life of her, Gert couldn't think of where Kathy Ann might be.

  She dreaded having to tell Bart.

  Back at home with him, after some small talk, where she was relating funny stories about Joseph and Shawn2's latest adventures, Gert fell quiet as they sat on their front porch swing. It was a bit nippy out, she sat holding her shawl around her, her husband's strong arm over that, his large hand patting her shoulder and then rubbing it.

  "You've gone quiet…not like you, what's on your mind?" Bart teased, grinning, glancing at her and chuckled from the squinting glare he was receiving because of his words. Gert was leaning into him, her legs curled beside her as her husband used his foot to push the swing, slow and easy. "You know what, I've a mind to make you suffer a whole week with my silence, then what would you do?"