BOMAW 7-9

by Mercedes Keyes

  "I'm telling you now, don't piss me about in this! Don't argue with me over it either - stubborn ass!"

  "You stubborn." She couldn't help it.

  "You just can't help yourself can you? You have to have the last word! I'm having the last word here, you're staying at the other place while I'm gone, that's that!"

  Feeling a bit sleepy, Vivian decided not to drag this out and turned back over, placing a bit of space between them, shaping her pillow to lay her head and go to sleep. Jake wasn't having that. He pulled her right back, closing the space she opened up between them, deliberately securing her beneath the weight of his body as he threw a leg over hers, pulling her even tighter against him, he was almost rolled on top of her, looking down into her profile again.

  "Jake! Will you leave me alone, get your butt off of me, you heavy!"

  He wasn't moving, "When I leave here Sunday - you're going to my place, right?" He persisted. She lay grunting beneath him, trying to move him off, making him apply more weight, "Well?"

  She hated having to do what he said, didn't matter how right he might be. Its the way he delivered his orders to her. "Right?" He repeated, squeezing her a bit tighter.

  "Would you stop, you hurtin' me!" She cried out.

  "Not yet I'm not! Don't piss me off Vivian! Force me to take more drastic measures and you'll be sorry."

  "All right! I'll stay by your place at night!" She snapped.

  He lifted off and loosened that arm a bit that had her arms pinned to her body. He knew he was strong arming her, but she was the type that needed to be man handled now and then, or else, she'd run all over him; so he had her figured.

  "Promise me, every night!"

  "Every night? I may not feel like going by there every night."

  That made him mad, he let go of her and threw his body off and away from her, informing her none too gently, "That's it, fuck it! I'm getting my sons down here, we're moving all of this shit out of here and into storage. You're giving up this place and moving into mine. Your sister won't find you there, end of discussion."

  Vivian shot up in bed, breasts bared, bouncing sexily, enticingly, catching his eyes. Noticing, she snatched the sheet up stating, "How in the hell, you just gone tell me what to do?"

  "Either that Vivian or you do as I say and stay there at night? Make up your mind, which is it gonne be?"

  "Okay! Okay okay okay! I promise, I'll stay by your place!" She had no choice but to give in.

  "That is a promise, correct?"

  "Yes Jake, that is a promise."

  "Just so you know it, I will be callling there every night to make sure you're there. Phone is being installed Wednesday, don't try that forwarding bullshit, because I'll check! You not there, I'll be on my way! You know me by now, you know I will."

  "Ah, but I have the truck!" She sassed smartly.

  "Put me to the test, see what I do." He dared her.

  She stared a moment, closer actually to a glare and then plopped back to the bed, flipping over. He was back over her, looking down into her profile, she turned her face up to look up at him. He was very serious, his eyes were narrowed and reaching the end of his patience. Vivian exhaled wondering why in the world was she fighting him? He was after all, seeing to her welfare. He was leaving her with his truck after all; she wondered how many men would do that. Softening within, she reached up to gently caress his cheek. Her thumb caressing his bottom lip. Gently, she complied, in soft tones, "Baby, okay ... I'll do it. Promise, every night, feel like it or not." She then leaned up and kissed his mouth, his arms were back around her, he turned her, pressed her into the bed, his body over hers, kissing her, caressing her, holding her.

  Breaking to breathe the words, "Anything happen to you..." He gasped for air, "I'd go mad." He was kissing her again. One hand reached further down the bed, grabbed the remote and clicked the TV off, bathing the room into total darkness. The kiss was deep, stirring, filled with love, passion and heat. Yet, he eventually ended it, knowing she'd had enough of him that day.

  * * *

  Benjamin sure wished someone had given him the rules on dating, all the does and don'ts. One perfect example - never date a woman who has a brain! Not wise! Not unless you're serious about her and wishing to settle down. If you're not, steer clear. To do so causes a man far too much stress to menuaver her to his will otherwise; basically allowing him to get what he wants.

  Yes, Benjamin knew how to play the game. Knew what to say. Knew how to act. Knew what strings to pull. Completely aware that dating while not serious about dating, was like tight-rope walking, one false move - you're going down. He didn't like the idea of being labelled a player - however - he'd certainly played the field. Had been playing the field since the ripe young age of 16. Gail was the longest relationship he'd been in. Even so, he'd seen a few others on the side, one night stands; not too many, just a few.

  Today, she, Gail, had seen right through him. No matter, he'd still gotten what he'd wanted. Close to evening his careful attention to her paid off and they'd spent a vigorous two hours screwing their brains out. Hearty, loud, sweaty sex.

  That had been exactly what he needed; following that is, a bit of shopping to get him ready for his trip to L.A. It was a dangerous game letting her shop, pick, choose things for him, even though he paid. Something about a woman doing that for a man, made them feel more connected. It certainly helped to tip her just enough to give into him. Give she had. Yeah, he was pretty content with his day. She had even been pleasant when he dropped her off at home. Life was what it should be for a young man like himself. He couldn't bring himself to spend too much time on wondering why a woman intelligent as she was, would give in when she knew what he was, a young male, in his prime, living life and doing what men his age did; enjoy their good times and have as many sessions of mind blowing sex as they could - and he did.

  Considering that to be something she should know, in his eyes, that made her and him both, consenting adults who should see things for the way it was. He'd made no promises to anyone, yet, certainly none to her.

  He pulled into his grandparents yard, up to the large vehicle garage, turning off his lights, cutting his engine. It was close to 10:30. He stepped from his car, reaching in to get his bags from shopping, slamming the door he made his way to the front porch where they were sitting. Pausing at the steps he greeted, "Home gran'ma, gran'pa - in for the night."

  "It's a good thing too, we was about to start frettin'." This from Bart as the two shared the front porch swing.

  "I was fine gran'pa-..."

  "Boy, you living here, you gonna let us know what's happenin' with'yah, long as we know your plans, all'a'be fine."

  "Yessir gran'pa."

  "You been shopping I see, what you get?" Gert asked.

  Ben sat his bags behind the porch rail and took a seat on the top step. "Just some things I'll need for a trip I'm taking, tomorrow I'll be heading off."

  "Going where?" Bart asked.

  Ben scratched his head, a nervous gesture. "Going to L.A. with Shawn and his family, I was invited."

  Both grandparents hesitated, Bart was the first to speak, "Boy you still pursuing Shawn?"

  Ben exhaled, "We went in gran'pa, to do what I talked to him and you about that day you came to Chicago, remember?"

  "Of course I do."

  Gert sat unsure of her feelings, for so long she had hoped that what Jake had claimed, that Shawn had been with Christine, was just his lie to get out of what his father was holding him to; now, she had a gut feeling that all this time, once again, her boy had been un-justly treated. Made to pay for a crime that was not his. The two, her Shawn and Jake - both suffered at the hands of their father in different ways, no matter, both still unjust. Whereas Derrick, had put himself in the line of fire to take the heat off of Shawn, and yes, later, Jake. By nature, all of her boys had been a gentle sort. Soft. Bart would have no part of that, his sons being soft. As for Shawn, she now knew and understood what motivated the treatment toward
s him. For those things, Bart carried a great deal of regret and looked at his son with different eyes. Derrick, had always been his favorite. Although soft at times, he was tough as nails and could take a lot. That was one of the things his father had bragged about. The fact that he was a sacrificing kind, that he would jump in the line of fire, or fight, no matter what pain, he would take it to protect his brothers. Bart saw that to be an admirable trait; his one... good son, missing the fact that Shawn had been the same way. However, Bart looked at that as something he had drilled into him. Then, after his error discovery with Shawn, he too then became, his good son. Yet, their baby boy, Bart had never cared for him much. Said he was too, "pretty" - said that he'd be stuck on himself, expecting everyone to hand him the world, because of his looks. He'd said something similar about Shawn as well. Yet, the things he did to pull Shawn from it, he avoided with Jake. Why? Gert couldn't say. He'd just ignored him unless it was to beat him about some wrong he'd done and the boy was often doing wrong. It was the only way he could get his father to look at him. Doing things to Shawn to get his attention, to get him to like him at first and then finally, resentment set in, he became conniving, hurtful. Gert sat wondering if Jake's hurting Shawn was really, internally his way of hurting his father. Couldn't do it directly, so Shawn became his target. The older he got, the more rebellious. Until the one thing that disturbed his father the most, was the thing he became known for, using women, one from the other. Wrecking relationships, marriages.

  Gert exhaled, hurt within as she helplessly sat watching the day after day as it sped by, while their children's lives unraveled and along with them, all the mistakes they'd made.

  "Well, we took the test." Ben went on to say, "Soon we'll know for sure."

  "Boy do you know, that I'm the one who decided that Jake should see about your momma, about you, you know that?"

  "I've heard..."

  "Well I did. I made my young man, stand up, be a man and see to what was his to see to."

  "I understand that gran'pa, even so, I may not be his."

  Bart dropped his head, thinking about it. In that, he'd made up his mind that there would be no regrets. He had enough to regret, so wasn't about to regret that. Had his one son not been bothering the girl of his other, there would have been no confusion, he wouldn't have been in the line of fire. Bart knew, that most of Jake's actions were deliberately bad; he'd done most of what he did on purpose; to stir him up. In Bart's eyes, his one young son, the last one, had turned out a bad seed. The devils own that slipped into being, through him, and certainly perpetuated by the sort of young woman his mother had been. He wouldn't say it out loud, but the nature of his children that were anxious and ready to run into things no good for them came from their mother. She had always been a restless sort, hyper, bold, vain, taken by things not all that important. Years on in marriage to her, far too much in love to ever live without her now, he'd long ago come to terms on staying with her. However, had he known from the beginning that she'd descended from Negroes, he wondered if he would have clung to her? While sweet, pretty and fetching as any young woman could be, the love of his life it was true, even so, she had a wicked streak in her. That streak flowed on in their children. Therefore, their outcome, their make-up was just as much his fault as hers, because he'd chosen her. Of all of them, none was more wicked then his boy ... Jake ... so his feelings were in a constant battle over that one. One moment he was plagued by remorse for not taking him in hand, and the next he was shaking his head certain that it wouldn't have mattered, a bad seed, was a bad seed.

  He was mannish, licentious, vain, selfish, covetous, - yes, all the traits of the devil, including the devils good looks. Bart wondered would he ever be any real good to anyone? Made up of all the stuff that he was. If that were not enough, he was talented beyond words, could sing with a voice that was amazing. Bart had heard the voice, and corrected him on singing, trying to squelch what could be an instrument used for more devilment. With his nature, looks and talent, he would end up the ultimate sinner and so Bart had tried to kill it in him. He remembered when he'd joined the church choir, singing - Bart had put an end to that. There was no way he was going to let him use the Lords house to brag, boast of a talent that would lead to eventual wrong if he let him get carried away with it, embarrassing him.

  Now, years later, times changing, people talking, discussions on times of old the way things were done, Bart couldn't help but question whether his son was truly the devil due to being a bad seed, or - if it was something he'd done to make him what he was? His wife was ever accusing him of it, that so much of his ways was because of him. Bart sighed, again... was it so? If it was, how did one undo all of that? It didn't make things any better when here stood one that would soon disclose just how wrong, at one point with Jake, he might have been. If it turned out to be true, that Shawn indeed was the boys father, would it hurt Jake? If it did, Bart knew that it would come back to him again, another thing his wife could look at him to say, "Do you see what you've done!" With dread Bart had a feeling, those test results were going to come back against him. One more strike against him for hurting his boy, as this just might do. Deserving it or not, no parent liked to see their child in pain, even when that parent was guilty of causing some of it himself, he couldn't bare for anyone else to inflict it.

  They were quiet a spell, when Bart asked, "What does Shawn say about it?"

  "He's worried about it hurting my dad, Jake."

  Gert glanced at Bart. Bart didn't need to look back at her to know the expression that was on her face and what it meant.

  "I ah, talked to him, told him ... he grew short with me, ended the conversation. My intention has never been to cause him any pain."

  "No need to explain yourself Benjamin, we all have to do, what we feel we have to do. No less would that be for you." Gert assured him.

  "Thank you gran'ma."

  "How long you gonna be gone to L.A.?" She asked next.

  "A couple of weeks, who knows I might be able to get a position there. Either way, I'm looking forward to it, never been to the west coast."

  "I'm sure you'll have yourself a good time. We best get in, I'm needin' to lay my head." Bart concluded the discussion.

  In the house now, Benjamin stood in his father's room, his biological father's room, the one he had asked to stay in, they let him. He stood there now, packing, getting his things in order, while doing so ... one thing came to mind, one face.

  Crystal's.

  It had taken everything in him not to look directly at her today. He'd had to steal glances that were small, yet even so, they left him feeling breathless at the sight of her. She was stunning! Her hair, her eyes, her skin, her smile, the sound of her voice. He paused standing in front of the bed, open suitcase before him, folding shirts within. Slipping off into a daydream of her, wondering what she thought of him now after meeting Gail. He sure hoped it made no difference in the way they were once they came back together, he didn't want there to be a difference. He had watched her the previous night after Shawn and Sylvia returned with her boys. They were both animated, happy, and loved their mother so much. With good reason, she looked at them with eyes of a mother proud, tenderly with an almost reverence for them. He'd struggled not to pay her any attention while he and Shawn wrapped up what they were doing. Yet, the whole time there, he was fully aware of her every move and action. Listening for her voice throughout the house, the sounds of her getting the boys ready for bed, bathing them, playing with them, laughing, hugging, kissing, treasuring them. They were a beautiful trio. Isaac was calling him Benamen, and Darren was still shy of him, he would have to get him over that. He wanted them used to him, he refused to think of why, he just did. He wanted their little faces to light up when they saw him enter the room. He would have to work on making that so. Right now, everyone in that household fit. They each had their part and place there. He wondered was it possible to make such a place for himself among them. He smiled, thinking about Shawn.
/>   He was a trip.

  As an older man, watching him, feeling in his gut that he was his father; Ben saw the similarities in him and Jake. They were both incredible flirts for a start. He chuckled some more while packing as he reflected on Shawn's need to make excuses out of the office, because he knew Benjamin was there working. Each trip out, within moments, he would hear Sylvia yelling at him, chasing him off, squealing and laughing at something he was doing. He was like an overgrown kid with her. Doing things to catch her unaware, Benjamin could only image what things he did to make her squeal, laugh so raunchy and then grow quiet and still. Sitting in Shawn's office in the basement, one could close their eyes and by the sounds taking place over head, you knew what was happening. When they were, quiet and still, meant they were somewhere, in a tight clench, no doubt kissing, embracing. Benjamin noticed that Shawn did that a lot with Sylvia, he certainly acted as if he couldn't get enough of her. One of the trips back into the room, Shawn was carrying a cup of coffee, a grin on his face, he asked him.

  "Notice my wife is starting to show?"

  "I do, how far along is she?"

  "Not far enough, I want that belly out there man! I fuckin' love the look of a pregnant woman, especially when she's mine, with my child."

  They'd both suddenly realized what he said.

  It had taken both of them by surprise because of what existed between them. An awkward silence had grown in the office until Ben shared a bit of the past, "People said you ran, left because of me."

  "That's a lie. As I told you last time we discussed this, had I known, there would have been no way I would have left here, left you behind - had I known, you were mine."

  Ben shook off his words, the look in his eyes. He was falling for his father - was that possible? To fall in love with you father? He wasn't sure, but he wanted this man to be his father, he wanted others to know, that Shawn was his father.

  He felt like such a suck-up because he'd told him, he didn't want anything from him, what a lie. He did want something from him, he wanted his love, his admiration, his attention, his care, and he wanted all the years that he'd been denied it due to the lies and events that took his father from him before he even knew of his existence. He knew it was ridiculous to want that, simply because it was impossible to get something that was forever lost, gone, out of your reach - back. Gone, was gone.