BOMAW 12-14

by Mercedes Keyes

  She nodded, looking down to see that he was holding her hand, it surprised her a bit, because - she hadn't felt anything, not even the fact that he had her hand. Nothing from him, flowed to her, the sensation that should be there, wasn't - she was expecting something, anything, even a small tingle arousing her senses, at least a bit. This, his holding her hand, was nothing like the way it felt when Ben, took her hand in his - this - Victor, nothing at all. She met his eyes, smiled. He pulled on her hand, gesturing for her to rise, come to him, give him a kiss. She obeyed, she rose, she leaned into him, she caressed and smoothed his hair from his brow, she leaned down, she kissed him, kissed him the way that she knew they'd always kissed and she wondered, is this how prostitutes feel when they do it?

  * * *

  Everyone was busy, healing, planning, building.

  For Vivian, Tuesday came and went, and the next week as well - no period. They tested, she was indeed, pregnant.

  Jeremiah, after advising Sylvia, Shawn, Mundo; left things in their hands and in the hands of Mundo's attorney and made his way back to L.A. - leaving Deidre behind to complete what was started on the house. After her ready, willing and active part in being there for his family, for Mundo; Shawn relaxed with her. He figured, of the two women, Christine, or Deidre - that he needed to be more forgiving and kind to one of them, it would certainly be Deidre. And so, together, all of them, as a united family front, focused on getting the home built, secure, sturdy. He decided to step back, put his energies into the Studio, into his job and getting himself in position to get work and let Sylvia and Deidre, focus on their home, after all - they worked damn well together and so it seemed, input from him, was not always needed. This also gave him space to follow up with Paul on their search for the truth.

  Was Armundo Edgar Payne Sr. alive - or dead?

  Finding that truth wasn't as easy as Shawn would have liked it to be, as Paul continuously reminded him. Armundo would have taken on an entirely new identity if he'd done this. And, if they had his body exhumed, the family would have to be notified, meaning... Sylvia. It was not something that could be secretly done - no matter how bad Shawn wanted it, she would have to know, and that - he could not bare, to bring this to her. It would open an ocean of questions, and she was not stupid. In the end, Paul had to convince him.

  "Shawn look, you don't want Sylvia to know. And unless you're willing to make her aware of all that's going on, my hands are tied. If this man is alive, he could claim any of a thousand alias's. I don't have a clue of where to begin. Just because he's Puerto Rican, doesn't mean he's in Puerto Rico. He speaks Spanish fluidly, hell - he could be in Cuba, Mexico, Brazil even! By exhuming the body, we'd be able to test, to positively identify him. We cannot do that without Sylvia's permission, or a court order, either case, she would know and question why?"

  "I'm willing to forge her signature."

  "No Shawn!"

  "That could be her brother down there, Paul! Her brother!"

  "I'm not gonna do it Shawn, I don't need the kind of heat I'd end up in if it was discovered. Tell her, then we can move ahead!"

  "I can't! She's stressed enough being married to me, hell! Then to find out her brother is dead, and her first husband killed him? No, I can't wreck her like that, I can't! And then, what if, I put her through all of this, to find that it is Armundo buried there, I'm gonna look like a paranoid schmuck, for sure!"

  "But at least you'll know for sure."

  "I'm not putting her through that Paul, I'm not! I'm still trying to think of what to tell her about David, she thinks I have you looking for him."

  "I could look for him."

  "Yeah, right - and we both know exactly where you'll probably find him! What the fuck man! There's always some stupid shit stuck to me, and I can't get the shit off!"

  "Look, I'll give her call, tell her I'm on the case, but I can't promise anything. I can do that, as far as David is concerned, but - the rest - you know the deal."

  "I know, fine... do that for me, that will - I hope - give her a sense of relief."

  "And Armundo? Her first husband?"

  "If he's out there, long as he stays away, - I don't know, I just - don't know."

  "Shawn, repeat after me... do it... find this, print it out, paste it on your walls everywhere you are, everywhere you go in your home... I've memorized it, and I say it no less than once a day...

  God grant me the serenity

  to accept the things I cannot change;

  courage to change the things I can;

  and wisdom to know the difference.

  Living one day at a time;

  Enjoying one moment at a time;

  Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;

  Taking, as He did, this sinful world

  as it is, not as I would have it;

  Trusting that He will make all things right

  if I surrender to His Will;

  That I may be reasonably happy in this life

  and supremely happy with Him

  Forever in the next.

  Amen.

  Shawn sighed, "I didn't know you believed in prayer, in God." He murmured softly after listening to him quote the Serenity prayer.

  "You never asked. Yeah, I do - it helps to keep me sane. Find that Shawn, print it out, and read it three times a day, that's my prescription to you. You're a good friend, and I treasure what we have - as friends. As for you, treasure what you have now - today, leave tomorrow, for when it comes."

  "That's easy for you to say, thanks."

  "Are you going to do it?" He heard Shawn exhale on the other end of the phone, and then, "Yeah."

  "Promise."

  "I promise - I'll find it, print it out."

  "Learn it, and say it to yourself, three times a day, you need it that much."

  Shawn chuckled, "All right, Paul, I'm doing it right now."

  And Shawn did, and he needed it. Especially when Crystal showed up to take the boys back home with her, explaining to him, "I have to give my marriage a really good chance to make it. I've made up my mind - no more fighting it. I'm asking you, to please, accept my decision, accept Victor back, as the choice I've made. You don't have to like him, but - please try to be cordial, nice - okay? Because, if I can't bring him here with me, I - I won't be coming either."

  That hurt, to hear her say that.

  His hands were tied.

  He said the prayer.

  He accepted her decision - even when he didn't want to - he had to, or be the cause of her isolating herself from the rest of the family, and that, he could not endure, he wanted her close, so - he had no choice, but to accept him.

  Time went by.

  Ben struggled with everything happening around him. He stayed with his father, Jake - along with Paul, they two, with him, finished off Vivian's home. Inside and out. It was a long hot summer; one in which he was determined to stay busy in. He avoided going by Shawn's, Sylvia's - because he needed to make a clean break from Crystal, the boys - avoiding seeing her with Victor. He made up his mind, after his dad's marriage to Vivian, he would be off - it was enough.

  Shawn and Jake, worked as one to get his entire album, copywritten, registered and off. Jake signed the contract Shawn drew up for him, as his manager, PR person. They met with the band, arranging the meeting to take place at Shawn's studio. There, he could close everything out, and focus on business. As for the band, it wasn't an easy deal, in fact, a couple of the original members didn't like the aggressive take charge, or take over way that Shawn and Jake commanded things - personality clashes were already showing and thus, two of them walked. Three of the main members stayed. Like Jake, they weren't young - and thus, time wasn't on their side - he had a phenomenal voice; stage presence; and writing skills. He had songs already done, they had a few as well. An agreement was made, they compiled the songs into their first album, which would be titled, as Jake had wanted, "Here we come." There was equipment needed, musical instruments, amplifiers, drums, etc. etc. etc. - Jak
e and Shawn, with one of the main members, Brett Parker - went in together on buying what the band would need. They just needed someplace to practice and work. Jake decided against having that in his home with Vivian, the house was hers - this was a separate thing. And while Shawn would have a recording studio in his new home, it would be limited in size, it was predominantly for Mundo to do his thing. So, he and Jake, bit the bullet and together, they went in on building a 40 X 60 pole barn that would be strictly for him, the band, to practice - rehearse, play until they so felt they were ready for the road. The struggle with that, was where would it be built? On Jake's land, or Shawn's land? Pulling straws, Jake won, it would be in the woods on a lot of his 8 acres. Which they ordered and it was up in one weekend. Concrete flooring, a bathroom, a sectioned off wall counter top and cabinets where a refrigerator sat at the end; on the counter, a coffee pot, microwave, and sink installed. In the corner, a wood burner for heat in the winter and across the floor, rubber mats, as well a recording booth. Jake insulated it, and sound proofed the recording room. Running overhead, and along the floor, enough electrical sockets to hook up all their equipment. Needless to say, he was a busy man. In the midst of it all, he worked overtime for three straight months before giving it up to start rehearsing with the band - even so, he was still making his trips out of town, doing the deliveries.

  Vivian hated those days, he would be gone, on the road, three nights out of the week. No matter how she pleaded, he wouldn't take her along, "No! I'm not going to have you out there, up and down the road, in your condition!"

  "What condition? I'm pregnant, that's not a condition."

  "No! You want me to kill somebody, Vivian? It's not the place for you, and I'm not doing it. You've got this home to decorate, rooms that are waiting for you to do something with; you got Shanna; Sylvia; Crystal, my mom, plenty of family around you and our wedding to get ready for." He went on to inform her, getting dressed and ready to leave on such a trip in fact. They'd just delivered her wedding dress, which she brought into their bedroom to check, and thinking she'd pulled a quick one, hid the invoices from it, slipping them into her pocket; but he'd caught the move, of her shifting them out of his view. She was also trying to keep him from seeing her gown.

  He stood walking to her chaise where the boxes for it were stacked, "Well let's see it?" He asked.

  "Not, until the day I walk down the aisle to you."

  "You don't believe in that bad luck nonsense do you? I'm marrying you lil'girl, no doubt about it - me seeing that gown, ain't gonna make a bit of difference." He approached her before her tall mirror, standing before her as she stood in a dainty white chemise and wrap, looking skinny and frail. Morning sickness was terrible with her. He never knew that being pregnant would make a woman so sick; she was throwing up all the time, morning and evening; at the smell of eggs, tuna, any fish, lard and even at the sight of things; only thing she seemed to be able to keep down was chicken, if she ate it along with jalapeño peppers, ginger snap cookies, ginger ale, spinach and cucumbers. Anything else, came right up, and because of it, she'd lost weight, to him, weight she could little afford to lose.

  He pulled her close against his body, looking down into her eyes, "How much longer is this morning sickness gonna last? It don't seem right - healthy, that a pregnant woman lose weight, aren't you supposed to be gaining weight?"

  Vivian laid her head against his chest, "They said it can last up to the first trimester and sometimes longer, all depends." She answered, feeling weary with it.

  He was stroking her back, kissing her brow, his hand moved slightly forward along her hip and before she knew it, he'd picked the pocket of her short wrap, "And what's this?" He pulled it up and jumped back because she tried to reach for it, to snatch it back from him.

  "Jake! That's mine, give it back!" She ordered.

  He held it up out of her reach, a quirked brow at her, he turned and unfolded it, to read it and liked to have gotten knocked off of his feet when he saw the costs of the gown, the fitting, the insurance on it, and delivery. He stumbled back against their king-size bed, sitting hard on it, staring at the totals in disbelief.

  Vivian stood nibbling nervously on the corner of her lower lip, "I know it's over the amount you said, but - I couldn't help it - I couldn't walk away from it, it was so beautiful Jake, and - we'd been looking most of the day, nothing caught my eye like this gown, I just had to have it. I - after we're married, I'll get a second job, pay that off myself, I mean it..." She tapered off as his eyes finally left the invoice receipt to look up at her still standing by the tall mirror.

  "Wow..." Was all he could think to say at first, he wasn't mad - just a bit scared. She was costly. He'd known that from the beginning. There was no one else to blame for what he wanted, but him. Not even his mother could be blamed, after all - no matter how much Gert had wanted her, if he hadn't wanted her, he wouldn't be with her now. He'd wanted the best, and the way he saw it, the best didn't come cheap.

  They were both quiet, she was watching him, waiting for him to say something.

  He finally did, "Let me see it, come on - get it out. I gotta see for myself, what a dress with this kind of price tag on it, looks like."

  "Jake! You're not supposed to see it now."

  "Bullshit! Nonsense, get it out!" He insisted.

  She turned, giving in, and moved the smaller white boxes with their white plastic handles off of the bigger one, which held the gown. Careful, she opened it, moving layer after layer of tissue wrapping paper until it revealed the gown underneath. Lifting it from the under arms, she was stunned at how heavy it felt, that - or she was weak from losing weight. Struggling a bit, she finally got it out of the box to unfold before her in glorious white organza, inlays of teardrop pearls embroidered with quilting and embellishments. Seeing it this close, took her breath away again. She handled it with extreme care, turning it around to fit against her as she kicked the broad train out away from her not to step on it; beautifully centered at the end of it, was a pearls and lace embroidered applet that set it off. Every where you looked on the gown, there was something to make you catch your breath. Fully turned before him, she held it against her and looked up at him.

  Jake stood, came closer, looking at it, looking at her.

  "Put it on." He commanded gently.

  "Jake... I-..."

  "Do it, put it on." He instructed once more.

  She lowered it, found the catches on it, undid them and stepped within it, pulling it up her body, noticing right away, that it was loose on her, she'd lost that much weight; no matter, she put her long slender dark arms in, bringing it onto her body for him to gaze upon. Because her back wasn't fastened, she held her arms tucked in close to her sides to keep it in place. Once more, she looked up at him as he stood tall, enraptured it would seem, before her.

  He smiled. "You take - my breath away - Vivian Cooke - Black Velvet. Yeah - you were right - you were right - that's - the gown for you. Besides, you get what you pay for, that right?" He asked softly.

  Vivian nodded, sniffling, choked up, teary eyed.

  He walked up to her, tipped her face up by her chin, "No - job. You hear? I wanted you, well - I've got you. You want that gown, you got it." He bent low, kissed her gently, lovingly, his big hands, palming her delicate face, her defined jaw, deepening the kiss. A moment later, he broke the kiss and smiled again. "Don't you worry, your pretty little head - we'll be okay - promise." Another smooch on the lips, and he was off to finish getting ready for work.

  Vivian stood holding her gown to her, unable to move, softly crying - happy, and yet - sad - she hadn't a clue of why.

  In Madison, Meribel was home; the children back home. She was slowly coming off of her crutches, walking with a cane sometimes; at times back to the crutches; and lots of times, she forced herself to walk unaided. Her body sent her thru hell to get acclimated to having a hysterectomy. Suffering at times, severe depression; headaches; Insomnia; mood swings; and hair loss. They hadn't made lov
e since, before she'd been hit by Margaret's car. Derrick didn't want to further hurt her, he wasn't sure she could take it because of her pelvic injury. Meribel simply wasn't in the mood for it; and regardless of the counseling; of what anyone said, how fortunate she was to have the children she had; hearing about Sylvia's pregnancy, seeing her grow even more pregnant and now Vivian as well - sent her into silent grieving for her own child that she would be pregnant with even now. In fact, it would have been born shortly before Vivian's.

  In the midst of it all, she didn't care what the kids did, except Sasha and Joseph - the latter of the two, she kept close to her, as if she had only them. She let the house go; and she began gaining weight again, all that she'd lost, was back plus ten more pounds. They'd gone from her doing everything - to now, Derrick having to do everything, out of both guilt and necessity. Shawn2 - was having the time of his life, getting away with murder. Derrick couldn't always be there to see what he was up to, he was off doing building work, taking Marcus and Luis with him, leaving Shawn2, behind with Sasha and Joseph. Whether he realized it, meant it or not - his son was growing up in Jake's shoes. He was becoming just like his uncle, and heaven forbid, would perhaps be worse, if that were possible. What he didn't know was, that his middle son, almost 14 - was no longer a virgin. What was even worse, that summer, he shot up like a weed. It seemed, in no time flat - he went from standing 5'9 to 6' ft tall, all the growing pains and muscle cramps included. As he went up, his features became more defined, while very slender, handsome as hell; not to mention that he was tanning well. On top of that, his voice was changing, deepening - puberty was playing around him, with the possibility of visiting him early.

  This particular day, Meribel sat barely glancing up without looking him in the face to identify who she was talking to, assuming it was Luis, who stood under 6' ft; it didn't look like he would get there, especially since his little brother had passed him up. She was talking to him, asking him to clean the kitchen, "Miho, Luie - clean the kitchen for me, I need to try and cook something for your dad."