BOMAW 1-3 (15 page)

His flight was about over, they would be landing real soon. Strange as it was, he felt a calm within. A calm that somehow told him there was more to come for him, more to come with Sylvia Payne, and this flight would be successful. As he hoped, it was, landing without a hitch. Now to get through the airport and rent a car. Following that, he needed to contact his daughter first, and Gerald second. He always made it a point to make it to town a day before his business to give his daughter his first day when visiting.

The tropical-like airport was teaming with tourists. Family and friends, greeting family members who had just arrived, lining the corridors. Almost every public phone bay was occupied. Departure/Arrival monitors were in open display every ten feet, yet all that was on his mind was collecting his luggage, calling his daughter, and hoping Deidre was feeling considerate. He wondered whether Sylvia would be online tonight when he went online? His stride through the airport was familiar and business-like. He’d traveled through this airport enough to know the routine, the route, the best restaurant/bar. The bookstore/gift shop of his preference and the car rental agency that offered him his preference in a car with a price that was not as extravagant as he could go. His manner wasn’t one that showed a man who had just traveled six and a half hours from a climate of 38°F, to an incredibly warm one of 74°F.

His leather hung over one arm and his suit jacket open as he made his foot-flight through. After waiting twenty minutes for his luggage to roll around and then the golf cart ride over to a car rental, another ten minutes passed before he was in the car of his choice, an Oldsmobile
Alero
. He owned trucks and SUV’s; no sense in renting one. When he made these trips, they were primarily all business, except for Angela. He preferred to jump in and fly. Flying through curves to the onramp to merge onto Interstate-10 is what he did. In no time at all, he was at his condo. Tossing his leather on the sofa, he made quick steps to the dining room and placed his laptop on the table and carried his luggage upstairs, to his room. He would unpack in a moment; taking off his suit jacket and kicking off his shoes, he started unbuttoning his shirt as he made his way to the bathroom. After emptying his bladder and quickly washing his hands, he pulled his shirt free and off to land on the chair in his room. He went straight back downstairs to the table and began unpacking his laptop. The convenience of having his computer mobile was counter-balanced by the pain of having to unpack it and reset it everywhere he worked for the period of time he was there. Having done it so many times, he made quick work of it. First thing he did after it powered up was to sign-on to his instant messenger. After closing the ad, a message for him to authorize the addition of his name to the friend list of Quiet_Storm. Upon seeing the name, he began chuckling. “Ooooh, my god, Quiet_Storm…you’re anything but, lady…anything but.” To make sure it was her, he checked the profile of Quiet_Storm; sure enough, it was Sylvia. A good sign that brought a smile to his face. He gave his authorization and accepted her to his list. It was a little after 6pm, his time, after 4pm her time, he had plenty of time before they met online. He couldn’t believe how eager he was to do so, but in the meantime, he’d change and call his daughter.

“Daddy?"

“Hey, pum'kin. I’m in town; how about dinner with your ole man tonight?”

“Yes! Wait, I mean…well, I better check with mom first. Hold on, okay?” With a sigh, he nodded then answered, “Sure, darlin’, go on.” He listened as the phone was laid down and his daughter took off through the house. A few moments later, “Shawn?” Resigned at having to speak with his ex-wife, he answered, “Hello, Deidre.”

“Why do you always do this? We had no idea you were going to be in town tonight, and you expect me to just up and get her things ready to come with you. As if all I have to do is wait for you to show up to collect your daughter for a day or two.”

“Don’t get anything ready, Deidre. I can pick her up as is, and whatever she needs, I’ll get for her.” The tension between them was almost instant.

“What if I have something already planned?” she returned stiffly, irritated.

“Do you?” he shot back, having no time for this. It was a waste of the time he could be spending on the way to get her.

“Fortunate for you, I don’t. Why do you continue to do this? You’ve yet to follow a plan, you just pop up! We never know—” Deidre gasped, hearing the phone on the other end click. He'd hung up on her. Hanging the phone up with a harsh bang, she turned to her hopeful daughter. “I should not let you go anywhere with him. He’s unreliable and irresponsible, and if he thinks he’s going to just pop up when he wants to, be rude and brisk with me—”

“It’s because you always start a fight with him! Why do you always have to be mean to him?”

“Angela, the judge gave him every other weekend! Is he here every other weekend? Or does he come for you when he’s in town?”

“I don’t care! Maybe he would come more often if you would stop being so mean! After all, you divorced him, he didn’t want it!” Angela fired back at her mother angrily. Deidre stood steaming, with her arms crossed over her ribs. It never failed, every time he showed up, she and Angela couldn’t get along. She was all her father and nothing of her mother. Her hair, dark like her father’s. Her eyes, the same changing hazel-blue. A moment in the sun tanned her darker than her mother’s entire time spent in tanning booths and the summer sun. Angela was Shawn Everett’s feminine duplication, who would one day grow into a stunning, blue-eyed dark beauty. “Angela, have you forgotten that it was your
father
who cheated on
me
? That it was your
father
, who
chose
to move away? Instead of staying here and near you, so that he could see you
every—other—weekend
!"

“It’s your fault he cheated!”

“How so?”

“Because he wanted to move away from here to the country, but you wouldn’t go!” Angela fired out, upset. She loved her father with a hero worship, with a "daddy’s little girl" strength and bond that could not be broken. Deidre knew it and didn’t understand it. After all, look at all her family had done for them. Angela wanted for nothing. She tried to be a good mother to her. In the absence of Shawn, they got along just fine. Yet consistent to the rule, the very mention of his name changed everything. Exasperated, Deidre stood shaking her head. Tired of the argument, she turned away from her daughter. “I don’t understand you, Angela. He shows up once a month or less, and you can’t wait to defend him. I’m here for you everyday, and you act as if you hate me.” The clicking of her heels followed her down the hall from the phone table in the foyer. At the end of the hall she turned, framing herself dramatically in the doorway to the dining room.

“Go! Get ready for your father.” She turned away again and disappeared into the room. Angela swallowed the heavy feeling in her chest. Her stomach hurt. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her mother, it’s just that she couldn’t forgive her for chasing her father away. For breaking up their family. She finally moved, making a mad dash for the stairway, eating them up quickly, with her waist-length tresses bouncing as she climbed.

Fifteen minutes later, she sat in the window seat of her bedroom waiting. The front gates started swinging up; she sat straighter with her full attention on them until she spied the silver sports car coming down the curving driveway. It had to be her father. She leapt up from the window seat, grabbed her bag, and flew through the house to meet him at the driveway. Down the stairs and past her grandfather, who was on his way up.

“Hey, what’s the hurry?” he grumped.

“My dad's here to get me!” was all she spared him, taking the corner around the bottom railing, no brakes needed, and straight for the door, leaving Oscar T. Wherrington standing on the stairs with a look of dread on his face. His daughter was marching down the hall towards the door.

“When are you going to put a stop to that? He might as well not come at all!”

Deidre carried on as if she hadn’t heard him. She wasn’t in the mood for another argument. Out the door, she gracefully floated down the front steps, around the back of the car where her daughter was already inside, kissing her father on the cheek and hugging him. Stopping at his window, she leaned down. “What time will you have her back here?”

Shawn straightened up behind the wheel. “In a couple of weeks.”

“A couple of weeks! What about school?” she demanded.

“I know the way there. I’ll be there to pick her up.”

"This is not right, Shawn Everett McPherson! And you know it!"

“You have her all the time now, Deidre. She’s my daughter, too!”

“Then act like it, and be here when you’re suppose to!”

“Considering I live in Wisconsin, Deidre—that makes it a little hard!”

“Oh, well, and whose fault is that?” she countered.

“Can we just go?” Angela entreated softly to her father. Shawn gazed at her, and then back up at Deidre.

“You know where to find me, and her. We have to go.” He closed the discussion, hand on the stick. Sighing, Deidre stood, then leaned sideways to look at her daughter. “Call me if you need anything, Angela.” Her daughter nodded, but wouldn’t look at her. She stood and backed away. The gears shifted, the trans kicked in, and they were off. The day was starting to close, the sun was setting. Deidre felt heavy at heart. No matter how she battled it, she still had desires for him she could not explain. All while they were married, she was discontent and realized that it was because of her parents and the seeds they had planted in her head. Were she to be completely honest, they were not entirely to blame. Why hadn’t she trusted him and just followed him to his little farmhouse and land? Why hadn’t she just given it a chance, instead of making excuses? Her mother had always been in the background, planting the seeds of doubt. Convincing her that he could not offer her the life she was accustomed to. Always focusing on the differences between them. Where he'd come from. Where she’d come from. Him, the son of a farmer; a starving artist, and now, an artist of romance novels. Her mother had shuddered at the thought. Shawn Everett McPherson was nothing more to them than country white trash. Now that he was making money, and quite a bit of it…it made no difference. It was new money. They had been overjoyed to hear that he’d sold the house and finally moved back to where he belonged.

As for Deidre, she was feeling those tingles of regret again. Remembering back, she’d discussed with her mother the possibility of maybe going with him to Wisconsin. She’d thought about it long and hard. The next thing she knew, her father was sharing her husband’s indiscretion with her. Humiliated, she’d stopped all thought of giving in and did what her parents told her to do. Now three years later, she knew…her biggest mistake in their marriage had been in not leaving her parents and following her husband’s dream. She’d failed to stand behind him, she’d failed to stand up for him. Now it was over. A cool chill blew past, making Deidre shiver. Crossing her arms over her breast, she gripped her upper arms and wished she could go back.

“Why are you standing in the driveway? Come in now, it’s getting cool out,” her father called from the door. For just a moment more, Deidre stood staring down the empty driveway where her daughter and ex-husband had disappeared. Finally she turned, obeying her father once again, slowly climbing up the steps.

The large solid oak doors closing her within.

“Precious cargo onboard…buckle up,” Shawn sounded out as his daughter giggled doing so, with them turning out of the driveway. “You hungry, pum'kin?” he asked, his whole driving manner changed with his daughter in the car.

“Well, actually, no. I had just eaten right before you called.”

He glanced from the side of his right eye, raising the eyebrow as he did. “Aye, an' wud’tha lass be wantin’ dessert?” he asked with a thick Irish brogue. Angela smiled. “Nooo…but you should get yourself some dinner. I have to watch my weight,” she simpered.

“Hey! Don’t wanna be hearing nothing about my nine year old daughter watching her weight. Cut that out! You’re beautiful and not even remotely close to having a weight problem, understand?” Angela, still grinning, nodded. “Good. Now, since this is Thursday evening and you still have school tomorrow, you bring clothes for school?"

"I did - kind'ah, sorta."

"You - did kind'ah sorta?" He returned.

Smiling, giving her dad that look that would get her anything, she confessed, "I brought something to wear just incase you didn't feel like picking Tia up, to take us to the mall so we could pick up a matching outfit for a part in a play we're doing?" She flashed him a hopeful adorable smile.

"And your mother didn't know about this?"

"I hadn't figured out how to ask her, she's always so busy, and then you called - and I thought, yeah - my dad's here, he'll take us."

Shawn sighed, of course he would take them, it's what you did when you had to make up for lost time. "You know me so well, okay, give Tia a call, tell her we're on our way."

"Yaaay! Oh thank you daddy, I knew you would, you never let me down."

Shawn smiled, scratched her scalp within the dark silk of her head, rerouting them towards her friends house, watching the time. He still had loads of it on his hands and figured what the heck, it was his first night back with his daughter, her wish was his command. After she clicked the phone off with her friend, he informed her, "I’m going to get myself something to eat while you two shop, how about desert for the two of you? A strawberry parfait with nuts and lots of whip cream perhaps?"