BOMAW 1-3 (40 page)

"I'm okay, Shawn, just tired…like you. Angela's asleep," she informed him. He bent down into Sylvia's car and called his daughter awake.

"Angela...wake up. We're at the hotel." She stirred and slowly turned, opening the car door and tried to get out, then remembered her seat belt. Unbuckling it, she got out of the car, shivering.

Inside at the front desk, they requested two rooms right across from each other. Shawn walked them to their room, opening the door for Angela to go in first. He grabbed Sylvia's arm, held her there a moment looking at her, really searching her eyes. "I love you," he said softly. "Thank you for coming. For doing this, for going through it with me...and I'm so sorry to put you through it."

"Well, I have no choice, Shawn, but to go through it with you. I promised to always be by your side, remember? I'm sorry I didn't come with you when you asked. I love you, I'm in it for good, as I promised." She lifted her hand and showed her ring to him, then winked. "You go get some sleep, we'll be okay," she finished. He pulled her to him and kissed her hard, next her cheek and forehead, holding her head to his lips as if he said a short prayer there. Pulling away, she turned and entered their room. Angela was in the bathroom as she walked with her bag Shawn gave her and sat it on one of the beds.

She sat on the opposite bed, exhausted, waiting for Angela to come out of the bathroom. When she did, it was slowly. Leaning against the door frame, she showed herself gradually, as if ashamed, staring at Sylvia. "Does my dad hate me now? He didn't say goodnight to me." Her tears started rolling.

"Ohhh, don't cry honey, come here...come sit down across from me."

Swallowing and wiping her eyes, Angela came and sat across from Sylvia in the short space that separated their beds.

She glanced up at Sylvia and then down, feeling shy and needing someone to understand how she felt.

"I got my dad in a lot of trouble," she admitted softly.

"Yeah…yeah, you did."

"I didn't mean to...I just… I-I want them…to be together so bad...I want things back the way they use to be, so bad that I thought…I don't know." She shrugged. "I guess you don't really like me, either...after what I did."

"Sweetheart, I've always anticipated meeting you. Seeing you because I know your father loves you so much. He's so very proud of you, always has been. Annnnd, I'm not about to judge you on tonight. I know that nothing has been easy for you since your parent's separation and divorce, so while what you did is not at all good...I wouldn't dream of holding it against you."

"Would it make you mad if I said...I kinda wish he didn't love you...so he could love my mom again?"

"No, darlin', hearing you say that is not going to make me mad. It's perfectly understandable for you to feel that way. In fact, it saddens me that you have suffered so with them having to live apart."

"I don't understand why you're being so nice to me, when I've been wishing that my dad didn't love you."

"You think that if I weren't here, your dad would love your mother again then?"

"Well, maybe...if he didn't have you, there would be no reason for him not to at least listen to her."

"What you say may be true, however, if there was no me, chances are…there would be someone else. Your father is a very charming, kind, person. He's someone that is easy to love, so...even if I weren't in the picture, there very well could be someone else."

"Yeah...I guess that's true. He is handsome," Angela said with a slight smile. "Sometimes, I-I wish I'd never been born. If I wasn't here, they could both just go on with their lives, and I wouldn't be so much trouble to them."

"Honey, listen. First off, you
were
born and they don't regret you, so you shouldn't be feeling as you do. Believe me, when they fell in love and married, they hadn't planned on it turning out this way. No doubt they made plans to live together and be happy and raise a family."

"Then what happened?" Angela asked, needing to know.

"Things happen, Angela, other people happen, outside forces and circumstances. It's like...sometimes you make up your mind to do something for a certain reason. In your own head, you see how you want it to turn out. Then someone comes along and makes a mess of all of your plans. Sometimes the mess they make is so bad, that nothing you do brings it back to the way you intended it to be. Like tonight, for instance. You made a snap decision to say that terrible thing concerning your father. Your plan may have been to shock him, make him take you seriously so that he would do things your way, however…it didn't turn out as you planned it. The police were there and they took what you said, made a big mess of it. No matter what you said to try to fix it, it couldn't be fixed, the damage is done. Now because of that...your dad must live with the consequences of your actions...even though you didn't mean it to be this way."

"I didn't! I swear I didn't!"

"I know you didn't, sweetheart, but can't you see, Angela...it was the same for your mom and dad. Even though it wasn't the police that made a big mess of it, other people and things did. Annnd, no matter what your mom or dad did to try to fix it, it was too late, the damage was done...and
you
are the one who has to suffer with the consequences of it, even though they didn't mean for it to turn out this way. Just as you can't go back and make this…what happened tonight right, your dad can't go back and make things right with your mom. It's done for him, no matter what your mom wants, or you want, it's done."

Large gray-blue eyes rose to stare into Sylvia's, making her catch her breath...this young girl really was stunning. "I wish so bad with all my heart and soul that I could go back and take those words back. Never say them, because my dad doesn't love me anymore now...like he doesn't love my mom."

"Wrong...that's not true. Come here...come on." Sylvia held her arms out to her. Angela hesitated, then finally, she rose and went to her, sitting next to Sylvia who wrapped her arms around her. "Your father will always…
always
love you. He's hurt...very badly...but he still loves you. Right now he's thinking about it all. He will reach the same conclusion that he always has, that you're his little girl...and he'll understand that all you've ever wanted, was to have him and your mother. Sometimes, you can want something sooo bad, that you do things that only make it worse, but that feeling inside...drives you crazy, makes you crazy…and, baby, tonight you was crazy!" Sylvia chuckled. Angela grinned and sniffed, wiping her nose.

"So he'll forgive me?"

"Yeah...he will and he'll love you just as much as ever."

"He didn't hug me, though, or kiss me goodnight. He doesn't smile at me anymore, either."

"Give him some time, Angela, it's all still fresh, he has a lot to sort out with this. The next few months, maybe even the next year or more, is going to be really tough on him. A lot like what you've been going through since he moved away here to Wisconsin. Just like they need to give you time to handle what's happening, he needs time to get his head together to handle what the authorities are going to put him through. Even so, he will love you no less. As for me, I can honestly say that I happen to like you a lot. You sat here and was completely honest with me. I respect that in you. So...let's just take things one day at a time, okay?"

Angela nodded, then sat back away from Sylvia. "I'm really tired."

"Yeah...so am I, let's try to get some sleep."

If it wasn't for the connection sex had to love…the cleaner, decent, wonderful, wholesome side of it, Shawn lay feeling he'd rather never have sex again. Yet there was Sylvia.
She
made him feel things so deep from within, the urge to connect with her, to fill her, was uncontrollable at times.
She
made the difference in what he felt about the act. Such a contrast from the women he'd known in the past. There were times when they actually got on his nerves because of the way they were with him, especially those that knew his size. He felt it was a repellent to have a woman throwing herself at him, willing to do anything to be laid.

His head hurt, it was a headache from stress. He lay in his hotel room, on his back, head on his pillow, knees up, wearing only his boxers, arm slung over his eyes. Eyes that had been running with tears for the last half an hour. While he should be sleeping, would like to be sleeping—as exhausted as he was, truly weary to the bone—yet all of that was not enough to get him off to the land of rest, with his mind packed and racing with haunting acts and memories from his past. So much going on in his head that it wouldn't leave him to drift off. It had been a long time since he'd felt this blue, bummed out, downhearted...degraded.

He swallowed and then sniffed, letting the tears roll, because he'd left off trying to wipe them away.

"I knew it would all come back to me...one day,
god
. I knew it would. But…not from my daughter...God Almighty, you know me! Not my sweet little girl. I would never...never—"

He stopped, feeling a sob well up from his prayerful mumbling. He sat up, walked to the white marbled bath and pulled the Kleenex box from the encased holder under the sink. Blowing his nose, he stared at himself in the mirror. There was so much to regret. He thought that his past was just that, in the past…all behind him. Yet it seemed not to be true that one could bury their past and leave it there, because there would always be reminders to bring back to you what a low state you had sunk to.

Shawn stepped over to the toilet, lifted the lid and parted his briefs to relieve himself. Standing there holding his penis, the size of which was a gift from his father, had at times in his life become a curse to him. Of course, with no one else to blame but himself. Giving himself a quick shake then a dry off with the toilet paper, he washed his hands and went back to his bed, propped himself up against the headboard and flicked the TV on. Not watching, just thinking...about his life and the stain on it. There had been no need for his checkered past, yet he certainly had one. He'd come out of high school resentful, tired, angry, cocky, full of himself, and wanted by many of the girls. He had been lead player in high school football, wrestling, hockey, top swimmer, and track runner. He remembered clearly that back in high school, he could make a girl wet her panties just by leaning her way, touching her, flashing his eyes, giving her a smile. The phone was constantly ringing off the wall at home which drove his parents crazy. Anyone who answered it, just about knew that it was for…

"Shawn! Phone!", "Girl name Karen on the phone, Shawn!", "Christine…Shawn!", "Sophie…Shawn!", "Brenda…Shawn!", "Sarah Jane…Shawn!"

He shook his head as he remembered his younger sister, Kathy-Ann, having a fit.

"Shawn, Shawn, Shawn, Shawn, Shawn! We not your daggone answering service! Silly twits, you don't even like any of them! Tell'em to stop calling!"
she shouted, upset because she was always waiting for a phone call, yet he would be on the phone or it would be for him. As for when he was home from school, no matter what the girls thought he was, there, he was eldest son of five with plenty to do. His dad stood for no nonsense when they arrived home from school, especially him and his brothers, they had work to do, helping their father on the farm. If his dad came in and caught him with the phone in his hand when he had chores to see to, one look would make him hang up. Bartholomew Jacob McPherson was a strong, stern father who tried to keep his five children in check. He saw to it that they went to church every Sunday, like it or not. He was a Baptist, his wife had been a Catholic. She'd given up her beliefs and sided with her husband after a few discussions, agreeing with him on many issues, and so, converted easily. Sunday after church, he would take them all into town as an end of the week outing, giving his wife a break from cooking. They'd be sitting at their table at the steak house, and Shawn would have to endure the girls giggling and walking by trying to get his attention, speaking to his parents, being ever so polite and mannerly.

"For heaven-sake! A body can't even enjoy Sunday dinner without them hovering about trying to get your attention!"
his mother would grumble, eyeing him. It was her fault, his looks. He was the only one of the five who looked
just
like her. Everyone who knew her always said she was a definite match as an Elizabeth Taylor look-alike. Some figured she was a bit prettier, if that could be imagined. Shawn was the masculine version of her, thanks to his father, who added a few features that turned him out as a true handsome young man. His father stood 6'3, while he stood 6', thanks to his mother who was not quite Sylvia's height of 5'4. As a first child and son, beautiful from birth, he had been doted upon. Bart was intent that his son turn out right, and so increased his efforts to keep him from being a wimp, a softy. He worked him hard daily, disciplined him by word as well by strap, if need be - sometimes more than his mother cared for. From his father, he received no preferential treatment. Even so, when he deserved a reward for something well done, his father had given him his pat on the back in many ways, including his art set at fourteen, mainly encouraged by his mother and then his very expensive photography equipment when he graduated from high school. When time for college came around, his mother had it in hand.
Her
family had been wealthy, but she had walked away and left it all for Bart, no material things meant more to her than the man she set her sights on to marry. When she left, her father, loving her as he did, was generous and placed two hundred thousand dollars in her own bank account. She never touched it. She said that was for her and Bart's babies when they were ready for college, so it sat gaining interest. By the time Shawn was ready for college, all three sat and had a talk on how he would use it and where he would go.