BOMAW 1-3 (53 page)

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Authors: Mercedes Keyes

BOOK: BOMAW 1-3
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"It's happening more often than you know with couples our age. And the other two are grown and gone…this is a new beginning; we're gonna have three together."

Sylvia moved back away from him to look him in the face. "Are you crazy? I'm not having two more. This is it!"

"Bullshit! I'm gone pop off two more in there before you can blink!"

"Shawn!" she shouted, shocked, and then started laughing. "Your ass is crazy! Do you know that? I'm getting tied up after this one!"

"Oh, no you're not!"

"Oh, yes I am!"

"I said no! I'm the man here! You best start getting that into your head!"

Sylvia gasped. "Hellooo, this is my body—"

"Perhaps, but I'm using it right now—baby one on the way—two more to go! If you had any sense, you'd build a twin pack! One less trip to the hospital."

"A twin pack! Shawn, have you lost your min'? You don't even know if I'm pregnant
now
. I mean, we're just assuming I am. We could both be wrong."

That made him lean up and think. Like a shot, he was out of the bed and going into the bathroom and into the shower. Sylvia rose to use the sink to wash herself while he was in the shower. "Hey!" he called out. She chuckled. "Sorry!" Rinsing herself and turned the tap off after shocking him with cold water. She did a quick dry, still naked, and laid back down, too tired to bother with getting a full shower right then or care about what he was doing. Fifteen minutes later, he walked into the room, drying off and getting dressed. She was wrapped up in the covers, slipping off to sleep. "What are you doing?" she asked sleepily.

"I'm going to get three different pregnancy test kits. You'll have to do them first thing in the morning…then we'll know for sure."

"Shawn, three…I don't think it takes three."

"Gotta be sure!" he said, tying his trainers. He was ready to go, leaned back to her and kissed her forehead. "Be right back!"

She mumbled something and went to sleep.

She never heard him leave, hadn't heard him return.

He climbed back in bed, tried to get her to wake up and eat the burgers and fries he'd picked up on the way home, she only mumbled, turned over and went back to sleep. Shawn stayed up and ate, looked over his stuff to see what the cops had actually gone through, remembered her purse and its contents on the ground on her front lawn, and went to pick all of that up. He returned and clicked on the TV, went in and looked at Sylvia sleeping in his bed, left and came back with his sketching pad. He sat on the floor across from where she lay on her stomach, her right arm hung over the side of the bed, the sheet came only to her lower back, her hair lay all over her head, and her face was in beautiful peaceful slumber. He sketched her, her brown-toned skin a contrast with his white sheets, what would come to be the first of many sketches he'd do of his Sylvie. Satisfied with the rough drawing, he rose, stretching his neck and arms, walking into his living room and plopped down in the sofa, calling his parents to make sure Angela was alright and to tell them that he and Sylvia would be coming there in another day or so. They had a houseful, as he could hear. It was spring cleaning week, with all the kids out of school and converging on them. He talked to Angela a moment, and then with Meribel, and realized she must have known something had been wrong.

"So, everything is okay?" she asked.

"Everything is fine," he answered, grinning.

"Ooooh, papi…I'm so happy for you! You deserve to be happy. Okay…talk to you later, Joseph just fell and busted his lip.
'Aaah, mijo…come let mommy look at it'…
" Smiling, he hung up the phone. It was 10:55pm and he couldn't sleep. He checked the doors to make sure they were locked and then went to bed, clicking on the TV and laying there, flicking channels impatiently waiting to get sleepy and for morning to come. He gazed to his left, Sylvia slept on. He reached over and rubbed the round curve of her hip under the sheet, his thumb caressing her smooth skin, she was on her side now, facing away from him. She moaned a little, but did not wake. He clicked through more channels, keeping his hand there, finally feeling like a man with true treasures and possessions: his home, his world, his woman by his side.

 

5:30 the next morning…

 

"Shawn…go away…I will when I get up."

"No, now, I can't wait any longer! Get up—just pee in this cup, I'll do the rest."

Sylvia chuckled, turning away from him, feeling the creeping claws of nausea again already. "Sha-a-awn…go leave me alone," she squeaked out, but he wasn't having it. He pulled her from the bed with the sheet around her, took her into the bathroom, and passed her a plastic cup. "Fill it, and then you can go back to bed."

"With you standing here?"

"Baby, I can't get no closer to it than I was yesterday."

She slapped him playfully on the chest. "Shawn! Why do you have to say it—wit' yo'nasty butt! Dirty ole man!"

"Yeah…right…you didn't mind Mr. Nasty when he was busy on you. This dirty ole man had you in 'shit-Shawn' mode all the way, baby!" he teased, laughing.

"You want me to pee in this cup?" she asked to shut him up, trying not to grin. She wanted to go back to bed.

"Okay, I'm sorry…pee away, please."

A moment later, she walked out of the bathroom and climbed back in bed, leaving the pee in the cup to him. Ten minutes later, he woke her up, shouting at the top of his lungs from the bathroom. "Yeeehaaaw! Yeah, baby! Yes! All three—yes! Sylvie…we're pregnant, baby! Papa did ya good style!" He grinned, doing a jig with nothing but his underwear on.

Sylvia smiled and tried to get back to sleep thinking,
Hmph, you ain't need to tell me that.
But having the proof brought her such a joy, she would have never believed she'd feel so good about it. The bed moved and shook with him jumping in to pull her back against him.
"Havin' my baby…what a lovely way of sayin' how much you love me…"
he squeezed her back against him, singing joyfully in her ear.

"Shaa-a-awn!" She was giggling as he threw one of his big thick legs across her hip, drawing her closer, tighter to him, singing on,
"She's havin' my baby, 'cause she's a woman in love and she loves what I'm doin…to…her…"

"Shawn…emmm, I wanna go back to sleep."

"
Havin' my ba-by…
" he went on singing, rockin' her and squeezing her as if he could pull her within him and carry them both to protect them from the world, his eyes moist from his joy, kissing her neck and ear, her temple. Sylvia loved every minute of it as she dropped back off to sleep with such a feeling of fulfilment—it was in her heart, in her body, in her soul.

 

Chapter 43

 

They
were back.

Oscar hadn't been home long himself. He'd begun in setting matters into motion. He'd wrestled with his conscience on one matter in particular but his weightier needs won out. He was truly at the point of no return. Georgiana was more and more out of control. Something in the way she leered at him gave him the feeling, that soon, she might just up and ask him for a divorce. She was home, less and less, and tolerated his touch only when she was desperate for a touch. Their relationship had always be precariously balanced on a precipice that with a shift of a current or wind, off it would tumble. He was surprised it had lasted as long as it had. Mainly due to the old man. Georgiana's father. While they were away, the phone call had come in from the nursing home, he had passed on that morning. From the moment he'd drawn his last breath, all of the financial empire that had been built within the family for over a hundred years now belonged to Georgiana and her daughter, Deidre. Oscar had no choice but to see her as that, Georgiana's child. For what he had planned, he must block all possible reasoning that she could be his.

Georgiana had cheated on him. Often. In the past and certainly now. That's all there was to it. There was a fifty-fifty chance that she was his... his mind was made up, the fifty he chose lay on the side of,
'not.'

He cast his conscience in the trash because simply put, he would not return to being a poor man. Granted, if all went belly up, he'd walk away with a few million of his own earnings. But it wasn't enough to maintain the lifestyle he'd become accustomed to. He'd lived for years in the lap of luxury and convenience, working hard hour after hour, day after day, year after year to learn all the ins and outs of this family empire. With 5 banks, 4 mortgage/finance companies, and various investments in pharmaceuticals, cosmetics and the fashion industry, this family would never see the end of a rapid growth dollar. For Oscar, his few millions weren't enough, he wanted this empire, an empire that harvested billions - what was a few millions compared to that? He wanted the top spot, the king of the hill position. There were also many political ties, there was power in controlling the political arena - he wanted that. He'd worked his way in good with Georgiana's father but the man had never really come to trust him entirely. He hated him for that. Didn't matter if he were right in not trusting him, point was - now he must stoop to whatever means possible to take, what he felt, was rightfully his. He'd been flexing his power muscles too long to just leave them over to soften as all was turned over to Georgiana and her daughter. He was not about to be any woman's lackey, begging for his place, kissing her ass while she as much said to the world,
'I'm married to an impotent cuckold, what new way should I disgrace him today?'
. No - time was closing in for that chapter in his life to end. He had to be careful and take slow baby steps toward his goals. Should he move too hastily, a slip up may be his reward and he'd lose all. He had to think hard, strategize carefully and consider all the possibilities while getting his men into place. To set all in motion, would take him longer than he wished to carry it all out, but it was too risky to make an error. He knew what he must do, he would have to work backward to make things look as if they'd taken place of natural circumstance. As much as he hated having to start where he would, there was no way around it...things had been set into motion.

He walked to the door of his office and opened it. Georgiana, as usual, was in the midst of a dramatic entrance, ordering herself a bath and complaining about the drain of flying such distances, while Deidre walked past him without a word and gracefully ran upstairs.

"Would you come in here please? I'd like to know what's going on." Oscar asked kindly, watching and waiting for her reaction. She stopped at the stairs as the household help went about setting up her baths and calling for a masseuse - that was the way they interpreted her orders when she was being dramatic about the stress of having been inconvenienced. In the mood to indulge him, she smiled a catty smile and turned from the stairs and made her way past him into the study.

"So... I take it she decided to leave her?"

"Oh no, we hadn't decided anything of the sort. The little
shit
has made an all out drama about her life here! Oh she's stirred a right nasty little storm, that one has. She is now in the hands of the courts there. They've decided that Deidre somehow needs to improve her life circumstances before they will turn Angela back over to her. In other words, she's with her father...for now that is. Albeit in foster care of his - so called -
fiancée.
A Negro! I mean we actually saw her! Can you just imagine-..." She stopped suddenly, looking at him cunningly as her memory served up back data. "Come to think of it, you can imagine it... can't you?"

"We're not going to start that are we? Because by no means is my track record anywhere comparable to yours." He defended tightly.

Georgiana smiled a touché, she would give him that. "Anyway, I've set up an appointment with our attorneys - we'll get this matter over and done with in no time. Who in hell do they think they are? And that little ingrate saying such nasty things against the Wherrington house! How dare she! Oh we will get her back, then we shall convince Deidre to send her off to school since she's so unhappy with her home here!"

"Why would we waste time with that? Why can't you both see the girl is better off with her own kind!? She doesn't fit in here - she never will! Leave her to him!"

"NO! She's a Wherrington! She belongs here! And I will not rest until she's back here!" Georgiana declared.

"You think you're so clever! Getting her back here has nothing to do with being a Wherrington! This is about McPherson! I know it! You know it!"

"Don't be absurd! I loathe the man! I once figured him intelligent and with standards... yet, I've been mistaken about the true nature of men before... haven't I? You're all the same, you'll do anything for money and fuck anything on two legs!"

Oscar tossed his head back and laughed at her, coming down to wipe a tear, "Are you talking about us? Or yourself? Aaah, oh well, we know what this is all about don't we? Still haven't gotten him to fuck you again hm?"

Georgiana reached out to slap him; he caught her wrist. She growled in his face, "You're just angry because I won't let
you
fuck me!"

"Let me explain something to you..." He grated out and turned her, twisting her arm up behind her back.

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