BOMAW 1-3 (44 page)

Now...this. She'd run away to be with him.
Maybe I should just do as father said and leave her to him.

Suddenly a long stem rose appeared before her, and the words kindly spoken captured her attention. "No one so pretty should look so sad." She looked up into gentle brown eyes. "Here, take it," the black man offered the rose again. Smiling, Deidre took it. He winked at her and walked away, carrying the remainder of the dozen roses he'd pulled the one she held from. "You're lucky, whomever you are," she muttered, watching him stroll off and he never looked back. She sniffed it again and remembered back to when she was a young girl. Jeremiah Franklin, son of her parent's maid. He use to come to their house right after school to meet his mother, and then they would leave on their way home. They became fast friends, then one day out of curiosity, she'd kissed him. Her father caught the act and fired his mother. Jeremiah's mother had begged him not to, that without the job she would not be able to pay her rent. He hadn't listened, he fired her and forbade her to ever come back on their property again. A month later, Deirdre overheard her mother telling her father that Mrs. Franklin had committed suicide. That Jeremiah and his younger brother had been sent into foster care.

Deidre sniffed the rose. Sighing deeply, she checked her watch. It was almost one o'clock. She took her cell phone from her purse and dialled Shawn's cell phone again. He answered.

"Yeah?"

"Well? Where can we meet?" she asked.

"At the Dane County Courthouse. We have to go before the judge there."

"Dane County Courthouse! Before the judge? What are you up to, Shawn McPherson?"

"It's too heavy to go into over the phone, Deidre, meet us there in thirty-five minutes. I'll tell you what's going on then," Shawn said, then clicked off.

"If you think you're going to take my daughter from me, you've got another think coming!"

Shawn clicked the phone off and slipped it into the top pocket of his leather. He looked up for their waitress and signalled that they were ready for their check. She nodded from across the busy restaurant; he turned back to waiting for Sylvia and his daughter to finish in the washroom.

Sitting as he was in the Country Kitchen restaurant, his mind was ever busy as usual. The Clerk of Court had called to say the judge could see them at 2:00pm. He was nervous right then, so much was happening that he wondered if in the midst of it all, he would lose his grasp on things that meant the most to him. He was worried about his daughter. Worried about what her actions would mean for him. What they would mean for her, and as a result, what disclosures might erupt from it all. Nervous tension made his stomach queasy. Finally when his life was becoming stable and he had a woman in it that meant the world to him, would give him the type of family setting he now longed for, it could all be washed out because of his stupid past.

"Don't take this direction...I swear, boy, 'cause if you do…you gone regret it one day! I don't know when, I don't know how, but if you keep going as you do…you're going to look back one day and hate what you've done!"
He wondered how many times his father's words would rush down on him before they broke him.

The waitress came and laid the check before him. Glancing up with a smile he was far from feeling, "Thank you," he offered and returned his pensive stare out the window. The sun was out, but it was a cold day. He'd had to run Sylvia by the Wal-Mart, letting her out so she could go in and purchase a coat for Angela. What she'd run away wearing wasn't appropriate for the weather. He had sat in the SUV watching them dash inside as he parked to wait. As mix-matched as they were, in less than 24 hours, there was something between them that he'd never seen between his daughter and Deidre.

Earlier, when they were still at the hotel and he'd come out of the shower and dressed, Sylvia was there waiting for him so she could talk to him. She had tears in her eyes and began telling him right away the state of Angela, what she was feeling, her request again, and the way she'd been living while with Deidre's family. He knew that what was happening was stressful, and no doubt Sylvia was exhausted, certainly that was part of the reason she was so emotional, bursting into tears as she was. Plus it was obvious she was touched and naturally a soft-hearted person, regardless of the strong front she put up for him. When it came to Angela, she was as compassionate as he felt a "real" mother would be. In her telling, he had to hug and comfort her from being so upset over Angela, which moved him, bringing them closer to see her so worked up over his daughter. Once she'd calmed down, he'd informed her of the decision he'd come to already before she'd shared with him what she had.

"How would you feel if I told you, I've decided to try and gain permanent custody of her? It was on my mind all last night. Now you tell me this. Sylvia…I know this might be more than you bargained for…but…I have to get my daughter. My plan is to hire a lawyer and try to persuade the courts to let me be a full-time father to her. So, now, I suppose the question is...is that going to be okay with you?"

"Shawn, she's your daughter...and from what I've noted just in the last few hours, she needs you. I was going to try and talk you into possibly fighting for her, but I wasn't sure how you would take me asking that."

"So you're going to support me? All the way? Which means when we marry, she will be with us. You will be the main role model—mother—in her life."

"Shawn...I'm fully aware of what this means, should you win your case."

"And you're ready for it?"

She had sighed deep and looked at him long and hard. "Again, I have no choice."

"You know what, I don't like it when you put things that way!" he hurled. "You make it sound as if it's something I'm forcing on you. As if
I'm
forced on you! Teenage girls knocked up are
forced
into things!"

With a slight shake of her head, Sylvia had chuckled as she rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Shawn had shot up from the bed in a huff. "What's funny now?" he demanded. She only shook her head and said, "I'm not laughing at that, Shawn, it's irony that's got me right now. Look, Shawn...I'm here, aren't I? I was going to try to persuade you into fighting for her. So what does that tell you? What is it with you? Do you trust that I love you or not?"

Shawn had raked his fingers through his hair. He was battling feelings of insecurity. He was scared. Things were happening that he hadn't bargained on.

Sitting there in the restaurant now, Shawn sighed again. His next thought was when Angela had finally come to his room. He and Sylvia told her the decision they'd made together. She had been elated, throwing her arms around him, she was so happy. Shawn had drawn back away from her, taking her by the arms to put distance between them. Ever since her false claim, he felt uncomfortable with her that close, hugging him. Sylvia had noticed the look on his face as they made eye contact. Angela felt the difference as well, looking at her father strangely. "Daddy?"

"Look, ummm, Angela...I think it's best you not…you know…do that any more, I mean."

"Why?" she asked with her face crumbling.

"Just…just…don't, okay?" he requested awkwardly.

"Don't you love me anymore, daddy?" she asked, distressed. "I said I was sorry. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry, daddy...I didn't mean it."

"You don't have to cry, Angela. I just—"

"You don't love me anymore!" she accused him, her eyes welling up.

"Angela, I just told you we're going to try to get custody of you, full-time—all the time like you wanted! If I didn't love you, would I be trying to do that?" he'd asked.

She had only shrugged, backing away from him with her head down, she looked behind her at Sylvia and turned to her. Something in her knew that with her, there was someone who knew what she was feeling. Sylvia had gathered her into her arms as the young girl wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged her tight. Sylvia had leaned down and gently reminded her, "Remember what we talked about last night, honey, remember? Time...do you?"

Angela nodded that she did.

"Good, keep that in mind."

Seeing that with his own eyes stunned Shawn. In the whole ugly situation, in no time at all, Sylvia had bonded with his daughter. She trusted Sylvia, which told him something else. For a child to do that, to reach out to a practical stranger, meant there was something urgently vital, missing in her life. Something that she hadn't been getting that Sylvia was sharing willingly, naturally, and Angela felt the validity of it. Affection, communication, tenderness, hugs, empathy and kindness. He couldn't help the thought,
my god Deidre! What have you been doing to our daughter, or better yet,
not
doing?

Reflecting back now, running over the course of their marriage from the time Angela had been born, being a mother had not been natural to Deidre. From the very start, she'd struggled with motherhood. At Angela's birth, she had been nothing but nervous, with an anxiety that at the time he thought was normal. Looking back now, her nervous attempts with trying to touch and embrace the newborn, were as if she had been a spectator forced to participate. Her face lacked the emotional joy that a new mother should display. She had been almost horrified, while guarding it closely. She tried to breastfeed, something she didn't want to do, but only because he had asked her. However, the first attempt not only embarrassed her, but put her off something so natural and the baby as well, crying out,
"I can't, I can't, I can't...take it, take it, take it!"

"It!"
She called her.
"It!"

Remembering that now made Shawn sit and shake his head, seeing it all so clearly now. He'd needed to go home and clean up, take a nap, so left her in the capable hands of the nurses who tried to give her support, instruction and direction, understanding how the baby was her first. By the time Shawn showed up, she was in tears and needing him to change the baby. Dress the baby. Basically everything she should have felt joy and excitement in doing, she pleaded with him to do. He also carried Angela from the hospital, while Deidre was rolled in the wheelchair facing the fear of having to go home and be a mother to this new person. Again, Shawn had put it down to her being a new mother, too nervous to trust herself with the newborn, and add to it the fact that she'd lived such a life of privilege, that it was going to take her longer to adjust.

Unfortunately, as the days, weeks, months rolled by, her progress was slow at best. She didn't seem to pick it up as he thought she would. He was waking up most of the time in the middle of the night, feeding the baby because Deidre slept right through her crying. She refused to bath her, saying that she was afraid of drowning
it.
She called her
it
one time too many, making Shawn shout,
"Her name is Angela! An-ge-la! Not
it
! She's your daughter! What is your problem?"
Hurt, Deidre turned and ran into their bedroom to cry her eyes out, sobbing that she was a terrible mother and how sorry she was. Unable to see to the baby and her, Shawn would let her cry as he bathed his daughter. Diapered her, dressed her, fed her, talked to her, cradled her, and caught her first real smile. Realizing things could not go on as they were, he started leaving them together alone for hours at a time to force Deidre's hand to participate in their daughter's first year of life.

She finally began to notice that Angela was indeed human, real, with her eyes looking for her or her father. The more time she was forced to be with her, the better at being a mother she became, but it wasn't natural…it was forced, although he knew that she loved her. Smiled at her more, touched her more, and seemed more fascinated by her. Especially when Angela began to crawl, grab things and make baby babbling noises. While that was indeed good, Shawn noticed another growing problem.

She didn't clean house.

Many, many times he'd look up from painting to notice that their large loft apartment was littered with diapers, bottles, toys, spilled messes, and other things left to lay. He would stand looking around, wondering when she would notice it and do something about it. After a few weeks with the diapers smelling up the apartment, he would come from behind his canvas and clean house. Picking up diapers, taking out the overflowing diaper pail, washing bottles and pouring out formula that had been left to sour in the bottle. He washed the dishes, put things back in their places, scrubbed stains from various sources, vacuumed, dusted, did the laundry because he had run out of clothing and so had the baby. When that was all done, he'd go grocery shopping because he couldn't stomach another take out, and then cooked.

It was as if she were a guest in their home, one that didn't know how to pitch in, and finally he could take no more and brought this to her attention, trying to be patient about it. She smiled and suggested a maid for the house and a nanny for the baby.

"No!"
he blasted.

"We can afford it! You have that money Merriam left you, and I have money as well."

"No! I'm not touching that money...it's for our daughter and her future! Anything we need, we need to earn it. Work for it!"