BOMAW 1-3 (43 page)

"I don't understand, why your mother doesn't have her own home?" Sylvia asked, growing angry at the thought of this child having to live like that.

"I don't know. Grandfather says it makes no sense for her to move out, that that house is plenty big enough for all of us. Once she moved out of the house she and daddy had, she just never looked for a house for us."

"Does she know how you feel living there? Have you told her all of this?"

"She knows, she lives there, too. I mean, she takes me places and stuff. To the movies, out to eat...but...she works at that big office building most of the day, so we can only do stuff on the weekends."

"I see, well...come on…get in the shower, we have to go before the judge. They'll be calling us pretty soon, no doubt, now that your mom is here. Chances are, he'll hand you back over to her and that will be that," Sylvia explained, so sorry to see her so unhappy as she stood before her about to enter the bathroom.

"Couldn't I just come and live with you?" Angela asked, desperate not to leave her father, even if it meant living with someone she'd only known a day.

"Ah, sweetheart, you don't even know me. Why would you want to live with me?"

"My dad knows you. He loves you. If you weren't really nice, he wouldn't love you. I promise I would be good. I won't be any trouble to you. I wouldn't run away, ever! Please…please don't make me go…go back there," she pleaded and began crying, wiping at her eyes. Sylvia's eyes filled with tears instantly. "You hate it that much that you would leave your mother?"

"She…she can…can come see me...ple-pleeease!"

"Ohhh, sweetheart, come here." Sylvia pulled her into her arms and hugged her to her breast, in that instant, she was in love with Shawn's child. In the blink of an eye, an unexplainable maternal protectiveness surged up to hold onto her. With her eyes closed and her cheek resting on the top of her black silky head, she wondered what in the world they were to do. The thought of her having to go back into such an unhappy home, where it was obvious children were not allowed to flourish in a way that assured a well-balanced lifestyle, was unthinkable.

"I don't know what can be done, Angela, I truly don't. But I'll talk to your father. Go get in the shower now, when you're done, just knock on the door across the hall."

"Okay," she squeaked low, and went into the bathroom.

"I can't believe he has my daughter with her. I can't believe it! I mean...why? What right has he to just pass our daughter over to this perfect stranger?"

"And…a negro at that!" Deidre's mother pointed out.

"That has nothing to do with it, mother! I wish you would stop going on and on about it! I would feel the same way if she were white!" Deidre snapped, her mind in a whirl over what could possibly be going on.

"You mark my words, they're slick! I'm betting she's out to hook your daughter in order to have a stronger hold on him. They are cunning...don't you think they aren't. Silly daughter of yours has played right into her hands. I get a feeling we're going to need to call in a lawyer! I can feel it...yes...we better give him a call."

"Mother! I can't think with you going on and on and on! Please!" Deidre stopped her pacing to growl.

"Oh, come on! What's there to think about? If they weren't up to something, he would have told you where they were, so we could just go pick her up and leave already! But he didn't! I'm beginning to wonder if they didn't put her up to this! I have a feeling he has plans of trying to take your daughter from you. Em-hmm,
run away
my ass! What child would leave all that she has to go with him, unless he's promising her things!"

"Shawn would never try to take her away from me. He would never!"

"Don't you dare presume to know him! After all, who would have thought that he'd ever couple up with a negro! Why would any white man want a black woman?" She shivered in distaste.

"Mother! The same reason any man wants any woman! What is it with you? On top of everything else, you're also a bigot!" It was Deidre's turn to shiver.

"And I can't believe you're taking that so lightly that he's with one!"

"It's nothing new, mother! It has gone on from the beginning of time! You are not going to turn this into a racial matter! Her being black is the last thing on my mind! I've never met one black person that has done me any harm! But I've crossed a few white bitches in my time!" she argued, and in her mind said,
sad to say, one of them includes my own mother.

"Aah, I see where this is going. You're being like this because we made you break it off with that black boy you liked when you were fourteen!"

"There was nothing to break off! It was completely innocent! That was a long time ago! Please, let's not go back...I know you don't want me to remind you of how you and father wrecked his life. His mother's life!"

"Wrecked hell! We probably spared him a lot of heartache and trauma! They both learned to keep in their place, not to dare and try to cross over into our white world. They don't belong in it, unless they're serving or cleaning."

"Enough! Goodbye! You in large doses is equivalent to angel dusting!" Deidre fired off, heading for the door. She needed to go for a walk and think. Slamming the hotel door behind her, she strode down the hall towards the elevator. The Concourse Hotel was located in the downtown area of Madison. The sights included the Capital Building, theatres, shops and a central park that Deidre headed for, stepping from the elevator past the luxurious gift shop.

Georgiana left their Governor's Club room and searched out the restaurant bar. There she sat sipping her Bloody Mary, thinking about nothing but Shawn. At one point, she thought she was crazy obsessing over him as she was. Had he not rematerialized in her life married to her daughter, of all people, she might have been able to forget him. The man responsible for giving her the best pleasure she'd ever had had been hidden behind a mask and headscarf, but she wasn't fooled. She knew it was him. The look that crossed his features still showed clearly in her mind. What else could explain his blatant actions of never wanting to be in a room alone with her, doing all he could not to make direct eye contact. He didn't even like her near him. Were he on one side of the room, and she tried to cross it towards him, he made an excuse to move or leave the room.

Yes, you are him, indeed. Why do you run from me? No woman can give you what I can,
she thought hungrily. Her heart was beating so fast, her system surging from the memory of him having it all, knowing all of what was needed to bring her the kind of soul-shaking climaxes some women could only dream about. Having seen him time after time, watching the way that he walked, listening to his voice, his gestures and movements, gripped her in the knowledge that she just might be in love with him. If not, then certainly an overwhelming lust with him. She'd worked along with her husband to make sure their marriage didn't last. Yet even after the divorce, he still refused to see her alone. Avoiding her phone calls, the messages that she left him. She'd humiliated herself just about, trying to get him to admit that he was what she knew him to be. Then one day, he was gone—again! Moved back to Wisconsin, no word to his ex-wife or daughter as to where. With her pride singed, she decided to drop her pursuit of him. Unfortunately, everything she'd done to wash him from her mind, her body, her soul, proved unsuccessful. She couldn't wait to see him again. She smiled.
Run from me, will you? You'll never be able to get away from me. Not ever, Everett Styles.

Sipping her drink, she couldn't help but think of that stupid old woman, Merriam Styles, glad the old biddy was dead. She remembered arguing with the woman, it had become heated. All of her efforts to locate him and the truth of what she suspected, led her to Merriam. Had she not died, she might have possibly killed her. To learn that she was the reason he had suddenly disappeared from Melba's, angered Georgiana. If it hadn't been for her, she might have been able to buy him herself. But the old lady had gotten to him first.
Hmph, yelling at me…you dried up old bitch!
She remembered finding the woman in her garden picking roses when she introduced herself, tried to get a little information out of her concerning Shawn. Stupid old woman had been immediately defensive and protective of him, trying to pretend that he nor she had been anywhere near Melba's. Well she knew better, had shown proof of the fact that she had been a member there. Then she'd made the mistake of turning on Georgiana, angering her so that she'd pushed the older woman down, yelling over her. Bringing her back to her senses was seeing the woman struggling for her next breath, then grabbing her chest. Georgiana had been quick and discreet in her departure, only to hear later that day, Shawn had found the woman dead in her garden.

Finishing her drink, Georgiana hailed the bartender for another one, thinking about her daughter. "Silly twit," she muttered, never once wrestling with her conscience or letting it bother her that she lacked maternal devotion to her. As far as Georgiana was concerned, it was every woman for herself. She'd done her part as far as her daughter was concerned, she owed her nothing more beyond the point that she could care for herself. Life was too short for wasting precious time doing for other people what they wouldn't appreciate anyway. It was all about her own needs. She had everything else in life that she wanted, but the ultimate man to compliment her. That man was Everett Styles. She would never refer to him as Shawn, she preferred the name Everett…it was more of a match for his style and manner. Her mind slipped into a fantasy of them together. Him dressed in only the best Armani suits, wearing the best cologne, hair cut and styled back with a tan that made all the women seeing him drool as he escorted her about on his arm. For him, were she certain that he would be hers, she would get rid of her husband.

"God I want you," she moaned with the rim of her glass to her lips, tilting it to take a sip. The alcohol was loosening her inhibitions, stirring her imagination of them together in bed. "I need to get laid, and soon...preferably by you, Everett Styles. God I want him! How...how do you make a man like that your own? That black whore! Who are you?" She sighed, shaking it off. "No worries, I always get what I want...one way, or another."

*

Deidre sat trying to make up her mind on what she was going to do. Here she was at a time in her life where she should be settled into a routine, only to find that she was no better off than she was years ago. How could she explain being thirty-four years old and still living in her parent's home? She sniffed as the cool wind blew through the beautiful park across from the Capital building. Looking around her, she wondered what her future held. She kept thinking about Shawn's past. Porn. She still couldn't believe it, that he'd done such a thing. Granted, it was obvious he was very young. She was not naive to the lifestyle many in L.A. lived in order to make it. The fact was, knowing that he too had stooped to such actions, didn't dim what she felt for him one bit. She wondered if his parents knew? She doubted it, she knew that Shawn was very guarded concerning his parents. They meant the world to him. He had only praises to sing as far as they were concerned. Following their marriage, he'd taken her home to meet them. Their entire lifestyle was completely different from anything she had ever experienced. The food they ate, the banter between siblings, the way they dressed and entertained each other. As hard as she had tried to fit in, she was awkward at best. Even so, all had been kind to her, and Shawn had been patient, understanding and loving.

Tears rushed to her eyes. "God please, I want my husband back, I want him back. Give me another chance." Even as she muttered the prayer, she knew that there was no chance. He'd tried to give her the opportunity to turn things around, to put their small family first. He'd pleaded with her the week before their court appearance not to go through with it, to think of their daughter. She'd almost given in, but then her parents had disclosed his affair with the airline stewardess and she'd walked away. Angry and hurt by her rejection, his last words had been, "If you go through with this, Deidre, know this—there is no turning back. Do you hear me? There is no turning back! It
will
be final! I mean it!" he'd shouted.

Her mother and father had propelled her onward and she'd gone through with it. Six weeks later, she was certain that she carried his second child. Sobbing to her mother that she'd made a mistake, distraught and not knowing what to do, she'd given her medicine to calm her down. She'd fallen asleep only to awaken in the hospital. She'd miscarried. Devastated because the unborn child had been her one and only means to possibly win Shawn back, she had a slight breakdown. By the time she came out of it, she realized that she needed to harden herself. She gave up all hope and found comfort in angry bitterness. Giving up on all connected to him, she'd delved into work, the finance company. There was also Angela. While she loved her daughter with all of her heart, there were times that she was jealous of the relationship she had with her father. Then guilt would eat her alive and she would try to make up for it by showering her with gifts. No matter how much money she spent on Angela, nothing ever seemed to come close to pleasing her as being with her father. Deidre was afraid she was not really cut out for being a mother. She thought about the one role model she had, and it was no wonder that she at times had to force herself to spend time with her daughter. She didn't really know how to function in the midst of someone so young. Being an only child, with a strict cool upbringing, left her working hard at trying to figure out how to make her have fun. She loved her, but something was missing…there seemed to be no connection.