Beauty of Man and Woman – Episode 8

Chapter 22

“Had you seen Mr. Raymond Olivetti before you encountered him outside the store?” Officer Collier asked, gathering more information for the report he would have to make out concerning the attack. Sylvia sat in the hallway of the emergency rooms trying to answer the questions asked her. Shawn was in one of the emergency cubicles behind a curtain, getting stitched up. Their assailant was upstairs in ICU, getting worked on to re-inflate a collapsed lung, set three broken ribs, a broken nose, fractured jaw and needing sutures as well.

As important as it was for her to answer the questions posed to her, it was the last thing she wanted to do. Her mind was spinning with images and a fright that wouldn’t go away. She rocked back and forth with her arms folded before her stomach in a failing effort to fight back tears that continued to stream from her eyes unchecked. Her ears were ringing and she fought down the need for a soul-shaking cry. She’d refused an examination because Raymond hadn’t been successful in going all the way with his plans. Her scalp still stung and throbbed in certain areas from his forceful yanking and hold. Again she reached up in the area where it throbbed, running her fingers nervously through her hair. She removed several strands within her fingers that had been snatched out in the struggle.

She sat looking in her hand at the large amount of long, dark brown strands, turning her hand to let them float to the floor. He’d asked her another question. She wiped away softly streaming tears, not sure of what he’d just asked, unable to focus clearly on the things happening around her. Again she reached into her thick mane; more loose hair. The other hand held a small stack of brochures and leaflets with titles like, Rape: How to move forward and forget and Life After Rape, along with sheets on outreach groups in the area and numbers to call.

“Excuse me, officer, but could we come to the police station to finish this questioning tomorrow? I think we’ve both been through enough tonight,” Shawn asked, having stepped up slowly after watching her a moment behind the parted curtain once they were done with him. Sylvia looked up at him, silent, weary and shaken. Her eyes pooled even more, but she didn’t move. His one arm was bandaged from the cuts. Blood stained his once-clean shirt and he looked just as weary as she did. He’d almost killed a man because of her. The scene played once again in her mind. She looked down from him, closing her eyes, wondering would the event ever stop replaying in her head.

Shawn swallowed, unable to handle Sylvia being silent. What had this done to her? What had it done to them? For the second time that evening, he was truly afraid. The first had been hearing the sound of her piercing scream and cry to him for help, only to burst open the door to find her almost raped, assaulted and struggling up from the floor. He felt it again, the overwhelming need to reach out and kill the man. Standing there, he knew had she not stopped him, he would have. Nothing was more sure and startling than right then…facing the absolute knowledge that he loved her as he had never loved another. He would kill for her. Something told him as well, that he would gladly die for her. Never again did he want to see her as she was now. Within his very being, rage battled with his need to grab her, pull her to his body, and squeeze the ugliness of the past couple of hours from her mind and the ache it wrung in her stomach, causing her to bend over once again, rocking.

Pulling him from his stormy mindset, the officer agreed with his request. “Sure, ummm, that’ll be fine. I’ll give you two a ride home. Just come in tomorrow, sometime early afternoon. I’ll finish this then. I have most of what I need, anyway,” he offered, standing from the bench beside Sylvia, who was staring bleakly downward. “I’ll bring the car up to the door; that will give you two a moment alone,” he added, walking away, putting the pen in his pocket, hanging the clipboard sideways on his fingers down by his side as he made his exit through the electronic, sliding glass doors. Watching him exit, Shawn knelt before Sylvia, taking the hand she used to pull loose hair from her head. Her eyes met his and tears fell from both. He swallowed and squeezed her hand. “Tonight…you’re staying with me. Understand?” This quiet command was one Sylvia had no intention of refusing, as her barely discernible nod affirmed.

The ride back to Shawn’s place from the hospital took thirty-five minutes, both quiet, sitting in the back seat of the squad car. Sylvia was sitting against the door looking out the window, with an open space between her and Shawn that she widened as the ride went on. He sat staring at her profile as she watched the heavy, sleet-type of snow fall, large clusters colliding with the window as they rode. He wanted to hold her, but something in her manner made him reject the idea at the moment.

“Looks like we’re going to get a pile up. I hear two to three inches. I hope it doesn’t freeze tomorrow. People will be sliding all over the highway,” Officer Collier offered in the silence of his vehicle. Only the sounds of his leather jacket rubbing as he manipulated the steering wheel while driving and the radio dispatch could be heard.

“Yeah…that’s what I hear, too. Nothing new in Wisconsin with that. You’d think people would be used to it by now, but commonsense has been traded for stupidity and fast cars.”

“Oh, and don’t I know it. For some reason, they think modern technology and aerodynamics means no more sliding on icy highways…but we’ll spend the day scooping people out of the ditch. God only knows how many fatalities will happen. Hopefully none, but not likely.”

“Let’s hope not. If all goes well, you guys can sit and enjoy your coffee and donuts in peace,” Shawn added for humor. Collier chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…just jealous ‘cause we get it free.”

“Oh, for sure, with all I have to pay for in life, the least a man can expect is a free donut or two,” he chuckled. Collier joined him, shaking his head adding, “If that were the only injustice in life.” They both quieted, contemplating that line and the current event. Soon they were back in Camp Daniels…the nearest hospital with the most advanced emergency staff and equipment was in Mauston, a larger town east of Camp Daniels. As Collier turned down the road where they lived, Shawn spoke up instructing him, “To my place, please. I don’t think she needs to be alone tonight.” Officer Collier nodded his head quietly in agreement as he pulled into Shawn’s driveway.

The rental car was still where he parked it, as were his bags that he’d sat on the front porch when he’d forgotten his keys at Sylvia’s. Again he thanked God that he had. What would have happened otherwise was too horrific for him to let linger in his mind. “You need me to go in and check things out first?” the officer asked, stopping behind the rental. “That won’t be necessary, I can—”

“Please—please!” Sylvia cried out, saying something for the first time. Royce Collier looked back at her, then at Shawn, who nodded his consent. “I have to run to the house to get my keys,” Shawn informed her. She shook her head, grabbing up her purse, unsnapping it to shift through it, coming out with his keys. She passed them to Royce, beseeching him with her eyes to check. Without hesitation he was out of his vehicle to give Shawn’s home a look over. Shawn sighed, looking at Sylvia. Getting out, he walked to her side, opening the door for her. She stood, stepping almost against his body as he remained blocking her way. Sylvia’s eyes lifted to meet his. Neither of them moved as they stared silently at one another.

“All clear,” Royce called.

“Thank you,”

“Thank you,” they spoke simultaneously, maintaining eye contact.

Within his home, he set down his soaked bags after opening the door to let Sylvia in. “It’s kinda chilly in here. I’ll turn up the heat a bit.” Walking past her, he did just that. Sylvia stood in the middle of his living room not sure what to do. Following the adjustment he made to the thermostat, he walked to the back of the house towards the bedrooms to place his bags in there.

As if unable to move, Sylvia stood in the middle of the floor.

When he returned, he had a clean white T-shirt and a small pair of navy blue sweat pants folded in his good hand. He could still use the other, he just needed to be careful.

“Hey…come here,” he spoke softly. Sylvia looked up, unsure…lost. “Come on, follow me,” he coaxed gently. Nervous, yet trusting of him, she slowly moved towards him. Once there, he put his injured arm around her back to carefully prod her towards the bathroom, urging her inside.

“Bath…or…shower?”

Softly, reluctant, she whispered, “Shower.”

“Okay…well, I’ll let you go first – I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be right in the kitchen—”

“No! Please, don’t leave me…I-I don’t want to…not alone!” she cried out, shaking.

Gazing at the raw fright on her face, he sat the shirt and sweats on the sink counter and sighing deeply said, “One moment. I’ll be right back.” With a mind swirling in scattered thoughts, Sylvia waited, hearing him moving something in the kitchen. A moment later, he returned carrying a chair from the kitchen table. “I’m gonna sit this right here, where I’ll be while you shower. Okay?” She swallowed deep and nodded okay. He reached for the doorknob to close the door. “No…leave it open. Please, leave it open.” He froze briefly, then stood straight, looking down at her. His hand rose gently, the knuckles of his good hand gave her cheek a tender caress. “Sylvie, you have nothing to be afraid of. I’m here…I’m here.”

“I know…but…please, leave it open,” she repeated the plea.

He nodded. “Okay, I’ll leave it open. Anything else you need?”

“Lotion?”

He smiled, then reached down to open the cabinet door under the sink and brought out a large bottle of lotion. Next he opened the medicine cabinet and set out one of his antiperspirants, plus a new toothbrush and toothpaste. “Did I miss something?” he asked, after setting those items out for her. She shook her head, giving a gentle smile full of appreciation and sadness. “Okay, I’ll be right there, out of sight, so you’ll have your privacy and the door will remain open. I’ll tell you about my trip to California.”

As she showered, he did just that, bringing in humorous stories of his adventures of taking his daughter shopping with her friends, listening for the smallest sound that might alert him of her needing him. He needed a painkiller; his hand throbbed, his shoulder ached. When he was a young man in his teens and twenties, he often got into scraps that he quickly recovered from. Fact was, his teens and twenties were long gone, and the body took revenge once you passed your thirties for doing things it would have much preferred you hadn’t with it, such as violent physical combats, even though he was in good shape for his age, he wasn’t superman. It had been a long time since he’d attacked without thinking, his reaction and response was without plan or reason, it had been pure adrenaline. Though he sat now with shock leaving his system, the traumatized muscles, nerves and joints beginning to tally his damage, which would inform him by the level of pain he would suffer, hopefully it by his fitness level, not too bad. For that reason, he didn’t give a thought to getting up to pop the anti-inflammatory painkillers he was prescribed – he knew he’d be okay; the same couldn’t be said concerning the lady in his charge, he was not going to steal one moment from sitting in attendance to her to see about himself.

The shower water turned off. He waited to hear her exit. With the shutting down of the water, he stopped talking. As he waited to hear the shower curtain slide across the rod, only silence filled the air where that sound should be. Finally…

“Shawn?”

“I’m here…you okay?” he asked from his seat by the door.

“Yeah. I need a towel. There’s none hanging here,” she mentioned softly, standing with her arms crossed over her breast and upper body.

“Ahh, sweetheart, hold on, I’m sorry.” Right away she heard him get up and head for the linen closet. He walked with heavy thumping steps. It comforted her. A mere moment later, a folded beige towel on his hand came around the side of the shower curtain. She took it gently. “Thank you,” she whispered softly.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’ll be right outside.” Before he took two steps…“Shawn?”

He stopped. “Yes?” Silence…it grew close to a full minute.

Finally, softly, “He was in my house.”

He swallowed deeply. “I know he was.”

“He was there before you came. He was there all along, watching me. I was in the shower before you came…and…he was there, in my room…looking at me, the whole time.”

He was quiet…not sure of what to say, waiting, listening. She was silent once again, then, “If you hadn’t come home when you did…if you hadn’t returned in time…oh god…he…” His hand showed back up inside the shower curtain. “Pass me the towel, sweetheart,” he asked softly, gently. She was crying now, just gentle sobs. Obeying him without thought, she passed him the towel back. He shook it out then slowly slid the curtain aside with her standing there, her arms wrapped protectively in front of herself. He held the towel up and wide. “Come here.”
With her eyes set on his, Sylvia stepped from the tub and into the towel, which wrapped around her along with his arms as he gathered her close against him. Her sniffles were punctuated by soft choked-off sobs. She struggled to keep control.

“Shhh, shhh, shhh…I’m here…I’m here…it’s over. It’s all over. He can’t hurt you anymore. Because God as my witness, if he ever dared try again, I’d finish where I left off,” he declared from the depths of his being, his deep voice rumbling, attempting to speak low and soothing to her. “Now I want you to dry off, lotion down and whatever else that you do, and I’m going into the kitchen and make us some tea, then take myself a painkiller.” His saying that, mentioning his own discomfort, snapped her teary face up from his chest where it laid for comfort. Her eyes met his and she was immediately apologetic. “Oh, my god…how can I be so selfish? I didn’t even ask you if you were okay! I’m sorry, Shawn…I’m so sorry – you could have been killed! I didn’t even think-…”

“Hey…I’m fine. I’m okay. I’m a tough ol’man…just as long as you’re okay, then I’m okay.” He smiled down at her gently. She stared into his hazel-blue eyes and was lost. She loved him. Right then, right there…she knew it…and was scared to death of it coming to her so clearly. At that very moment, she wanted him to see that she wanted him, loved him…and just take her, to wipe Raymond Olivetti from her mind. She swallowed deep, hoping he would kiss her. His hand rose carefully to caress her smooth brown cheek. Her skin was absolutely flawless and breathtaking. Everything about her was beautiful to him. He sighed deeply, drawing a breath way down into his lungs and letting it out. There was desire shining in her eyes, but he wasn’t about to respond to it now. Not tonight, after what had happened. He wasn’t sure what had put the desire there. She, nor he, needed to complicate this matter by doing what his body wanted to.

“I’m gonna go get that tea on. I’ll be waiting for you in the kitchen.” He stepped away from her. Sylvia lifted her arms over the towel to hold it to her now that he had let it and her go. Her face reflected the disappointment of him denying her what she longed for.

“You know what?” he asked, stopping at the bathroom door looking back at her. Gesturing with widened eyes, the raising of her brows and lift of her face served to signal her enquiry of what?

“You do wonderful things for a towel, lady, wonderful things,” he stated sexily, giving her the once-over slowly with his eyes. Heat flared within Sylvia’s body, melting her down from within. Her trembling, slight smile showed her appreciation for the compliment.

* * * * *

Everything had been fine. She’d come out of the bathroom seeming to be okay. They’d sat and talked for two or more hours, him holding her hand across the table. She’d apologized for the injuries to him again because he’d risked his life to defend her, repeating once more, as if it fully dawned on her, “You could have been killed.”

His response had been, “He should have been killed. I’d never stand by and let someone hurt you. Not ever.” The penetrating, sure gaze of his intense eyes on hers, coupled with the squeeze of his hand assured her he meant every word. Rising, he’d escorted her to his bed, willing to sleep on the couch, when she’d convinced him to sleep there with her. To that, he’d given in after taking a much needed shower himself. When he climbed into bed, it was to sleep on top of the covers and her sleep under them. He’d held her, comforting her through the night, her back to his chest, her head and neck across his bicep as they shared the same pillow. The deep timbre of his voice, calming and soothing her deep into the night. He’d been unwilling to sleep until he’d been assured that she slept.

Everything had been fine.

So as he sat on the side of his bed 11:45am the very next morning, he hadn’t a clue as to why she’d up and left, not waking him to tell him that she was going. He was a bit stiff, sore and aching. He stood, wincing, and walked out of his room to the kitchen to use the wall phone again for the third time. Again her phone rang and rang, no answer. “Dammit, Sylvia Payne…where the hell are you?” As he stood there thinking, he decided to call the police station. “Yes, ummm, is Officer Collier in, please?” he asked the operator. “He is, hold on.” He leaned back against the wall with the phone to his ear, trying to breathe deeply and disregard the aching of his arm, it hurt more than anywhere else – throbbing at the stitched areas where he was cut in the fight.

“Officer Collier, how can I help you?”

“Yes, this is Shawn McPherson. I was to come in today to answer any questions concerning last night’s attack on Sylvia Payne. Have you heard from her?”

“Yes. She came in…oooh, ‘bout nine o’clock this morning. I’ll still need you to come in and make a statement from what took place once you entered the scene, although I do have her account down,” he informed Shawn, adding the last, just in case. The phone line was silent as Shawn’s mind took off wondering where she could be. “Mr. McPherson…you there?” the officer asked, following the stretched silence.

“Ummm, yeah…I’m here and I’ll be there in a few minutes. Hey, um, did she say what she planned after leaving there?” Shawn asked nervously.

“No, she didn’t. And of course, I didn’t ask. I just advised her to contact a support group to help her cope with the attack.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll be there shortly,” Shawn finished, hanging up the phone. “All right, Sylvia Payne…where are you?”

Before heading for the police station, he pulled into her driveway, just to make sure she wasn’t hiding away inside. But when he looked into the window of her garage, there was no car. Walking slowly back to his SUV, an overpowering determination stole over him.

“Not this time, lady…not this time. You can run, but you sure can’t hide. I will find you. Wherever you are…I will find you.”

---

Chapter 23

“Hello?”

“Hi, mama, it’s me. What’ya doin’?”

“On my way out, why? What you doin’?”

“Getting ready to exit the expressway, on my way there.”

“What? How come you didn’t call first?”

“Mama! I didn’t know I had to phone ahead to visit my own mother.”

“I don’t see why not, it ain’t like I’m just sittin’ around here with nothing to do.”

“Well, can you at least wait until I get there before you leave?”

“Excuse me? I don’t think so! I’ll leave the keys downstairs with Eartha. I’ll see you when I get home.”

“Oh, wow, thanks, mama. I travel four hours down here to see you, and you can’t even wait for me to get there before you leave?”

“After travelin’ four hours, you ain’t goin’ nowhere. I bet you’ll be here when I get back. You better be here, I’m leaving my keys downstairs! So, if you leave, make sure you do the same. I gotta go, bye!”

{{ Click }}

“Ach!” Sylvia shook her head, clicking the end button to turn off her cell phone, then dropped it onto the seat next to her as she maneuvered her vehicle to the right lane to exit onto the street that led to her mother’s residence in Chicago. Maybe it was a good thing that her mother wouldn’t be there when she got there. That would give her time to bring in her bag and settle into the place, and prepare what she would say when her mother began bombarding her with questions, which she was certain that she would. Truth be told, she’d answered enough questions that morning at the police station, after she’d left Shawn’s at the crack of dawn.

Sylvia returned to a home she no longer felt welcome in. It was no longer her safe haven. Her aching body and tender scalp kept up the reminder of what took place there. The presence of Raymond had forevermore damaged the feeling of peace she once felt upon entering there, living there, working there. Weird, but she felt that it, the house, had somehow let her down, betrayed her…allowing that man within to wreck her life…her world. It no longer felt…her own. Entering cautiously, making sure that she was alone, she hadn’t wasted a moment in gathering some things together in her suitcase. She had almost ignored the blood in her bedroom. His blood, mixed with Shawn’s. She couldn’t leave it like that. She washed down the walls where it had splattered, washed it off of her bedside table and scrubbed it out of the carpet.

Done, she wasted no more time getting out of there. She felt like the house was watching her, waiting to close in on her and trap her there, so that it would give leave of entry to someone else to possibly attempt to molest her. She knew her thinking was crazy, but she didn’t trust the safety and security of her home anymore. Once she changed her clothing, wincing and crying out softly with every little move, she practically ran to the best of her ability to get out of there, looking over her shoulder with every step she took until she made her exit. Spying around the door of the garage, and checking the back seat of her car before she got in. Inside of it, she experienced a panic attack as she waited for the garage door to open behind her before she could back out.

At the police station, Royce Collier had been very considerate of her during the remainder of the questioning, making sure she intended to press charges against Raymond, which she did. Making her falter and almost change her mind about leaving, was Shawn, whom she’d left sleeping peacefully. Had he tried to make love to her last night, she would have let him. With the bruises and strained muscles, however, they were both too worn out to even attempt it. At the same time that she wanted and realized that, she was glad that he hadn’t tried. After all the years she’d spent in a marriage where she was always the one trying the hardest to keep things right and make their family life match the American ideal, she wasn’t equipped with the courage or bravery to struggle through another relationship. Yet here she was, in love with Shawn Everett McPherson. Right now, things looked so promising. He was considerate, gallant, protective, handsome and forever seeking to please her. But for how long? Her first husband had been like that in the beginning too. Maybe not as perfectly so as Shawn…but in his own way. Once they married, everything changed. The hell had begun…and there she was, trapped right in the midst of it. What if she was setting herself up for the same thing again? Something told her if things turned bad with her and Shawn, it would be worse for her. She didn’t like all of those ugly, insecure, scared feelings she experienced from her first marriage. All the cheating, drinking, lying, fights, putdowns, and the long hard struggle up to gain the self-esteem that she lacked going into the union.

It had taken her a long time to obtain the confidence she had in herself now. If this didn’t work with Shawn…what would it do to her? She was afraid to risk it; giving her heart. It was one thing to know that she loved him, but another entirely to let him know it. What would he do with that? Where would it take them? And would it be for good? That’s what she wanted, assurance that it would be for good—permanent. No games and heartache. Nothing in the world hurt like a broken heart…nothing. And she couldn’t fight through another one. She needed to be away from him where he couldn’t find her. She needed to wean off her need for him, now, while there was still time to do so. Thank god he hadn’t taken her up on her invitation to make love to her. Doing that would have cemented her in a relationship that might have wrecked her life later on. Everything had just gotten so out of her control since he’d come into her life. Right now, she hated the feelings of guilt plaguing her over leaving him after he had risked himself to save her. He’d fought for her, defended her, and here she was running scared.

She pulled up in front of her mother’s two-flat. She was tired, her eyes burned and she needed a nap. She dreaded trying to pull her stiff body out of the car after sitting in it for four hours. Slamming the trunk closed, she moved slowly, entering the wrought iron gate, making sure to close it behind her. Her mother would have a fit if she left it open. Up the front steps, she rang the downstairs doorbell. Ms. Earthaleen looked out of her door from within the vestibule and immediately recognized Sylvia. Smiling, she stepped up to the building’s glass door entry and unlocked it, letting her in.

“Hey, chile…yo’ mama left the keys for you. Said you be here pretty soon. Come on in, I get’em fo’ you.” Smiling, Sylvia followed the older woman who was about her mother’s age, a little older. Now that she had the keys, there were three to remember to get in her mother’s entry door. This was the last thing she wanted to have to deal with as sore and hurting as she was. It took her a good five minutes, sighing between each key that wasn’t the right one to turn the tumbler. Once she got in, she made sure to turn and lock all three locks back. Then up the long flight of stairs to her mother’s floor, where she once again, had to find the key to the giant padlock to the bars pulled closed; that was an easy one to find. Then she had the joy of finding the two keys to get in the door once she pushed the bars out of the way. “Gee whiz ma, move already! This don’t make no sense. God help us if there’s a fire.” After finding the last key…she was in! “Hallelujah!” she cried out after finally getting in.

With a start, Sylvia woke, almost leaping clean out of the bed. Her body hurt more now than this morning. She whimpered, wincing as the doorbell rang on like crazy. “Oh, shoot…Okay! I’m coming, mama! Hold on! I’m coming!” Sylvia yelled as she rushed from her room, having gone there straight away to nap. She laid the keys down somewhere and couldn’t find them. “Oh, man…I’m coming!” she sang in a panic, her mother laying on the bell. Finally she spotted them on the sofa about to fall in between the cushions. “Phew! I’m coming…dog!” She scrambled to the door, unlocked it, but had to undo the padlock to the gate. Slamming that back, she squealed out after pinching her finger between the closing crossbars. “I’m coming!” she yelled, sucking on her finger where it throbbed trying to rush down the long staircase, her muscles rebelled, slamming into the door beneath that broke her speed down, her muscles were too sore to do it for her. Quickly she turned the deadbolts and needed the key for the top one. She moved the curtain back to see her mother tapping her foot, with one hand on her hip and looking belligerent.

“Would you hurry up!” her mother yelled, her head moving to punctuate each word. Sylvia smiled, fumbling with the keys, found the right one then unlocked the top deadbolt. “What the heck was you doing? I’m down here ringing the doorbell for the last ten minutes! And I gotta pee and I can’t get in my own house?” she fussed, passing Sylvia, marching up the stairs. “And lock that door back!” she called down from the top. Sylvia obeyed. When she reached the top of the stairs again, her mother heard her, yelling her reminder, “Lock that gate back! And my door!” she called from within the open door of the bathroom, where she could be heard relieving her bladder.

“I know…I know.”

“Em-hm, well this ain’t Wisconsin…we can’t leave our doors unlocked here! And put them keys on the buffet where I can find’em.”

“I know—I know!”

Coming out of the bathroom, and undressing with every step she took leading her to the middle bedroom right off of the bathroom, which had always been hers, she asked, “Okay, what’s going on…whatcha doin’ here?” She never missed a step as she reached up behind her to undo her bra…the first that had to go. She was home, time to break free and breathe.

“Whataya mean ‘what I’m doin’ here’? Can’t I just come to visit?”

“You can, but you don’t. You don’t like the neighborhood, remember? So, whatcha doin’ here?”

“Mama, you make it sound like I never come to visit with you.”

“You don’t!”

“Mama, I do, too!”

“Emmm-hmmm,” she mumbled through a crooked lift of her lips.

“Mama! It’s not like I live right across town anymore!”

“That’s right, you don’t! For no reason at all, you up and moved away! That was your choice, when you coulda at least try to stay near me when I might need you! But, nooo, don’t nobody give a hoot about mama! Unless you need something…or something wrong! So, which is it?” she asked, dropping her house dress over her head as Sylvia stood in her open bedroom doorway. She signed deep as her mother started hanging up her clothes.

“Mama, why do you have to always be so irritable? So grumpy and mean?”

“You can call it what you like, when the truth is, you bust your butt to raise yo’ kids right. You make sacrifices for them. Doing all you can for them. But when they get grown, they move on and forget to look back. I’m just taking my cue from y’all. Y’all go about yo’ lives and don’t look back…so I’m doing the same.”

“Mama, I call you all the time.”

“Well you about the only one!”

“That’s not my fault, so don’t make me suffer because Jr. and David too selfish to pick up the phone. I cannot control what they do, or neglect to do.”

“I’m not blaming you!”

“But I’m the one who’s getting fussed at! Excuse me, I just got here and you’re jumping all over me for something they’re not doing. You haven’t even asked me how I’m doing…or what’s going on with me!”

“Tha’sa lie…it’s the first thing I ask. If you here, it’s for a reason. So, what is it?”

Sylvia crossed her arms over her chest and poked out her bottom lip, now being the belligerent one. “Chile, you too old to be poutin’,” her mother griped, walking past her out of the bedroom, heading for the kitchen. Sylvia had no choice but to follow. “Well?” again her mother asked, heading for the stove where a pot of collard and turnip greens that she cooked earlier sat; next to that, a platter of fried catfish. She watched her mother turn on the eye under the pot, Sylvia stood leaning against the wall in the kitchen, her ears picking up the clicking sound from the stove’s top pilot about to light. The flame burst to life and the greens were getting warmed. Her mother walked away from the stove to the refrigerator in the corner, opening it to remove some Cranberry juice. She sat it on the table and stopped, looking at her daughter who leaned quietly against the wall.

“Sylvie?”

Sylvia looked up at her mother and her eyes watered up. Slowly, she pulled herself away from the wall and approached the table, where she pulled out a chair and eased herself into it. There she settled into place, waiting for her fatigued muscles to stop punishing her for moving.

“What’s wrong with you? Why you moving like that?”

“I’m sore.”

“From what?”

Sylvia sighed deeply, swallowing back tears. “I was stalked. A man broke into my house, went through my things. Then came back yesterday when I was home. He attacked me, tried to rape me.” She sighed tiredly, sadly. Tears streamed again. “Oh, my god, baby…why ain’t you tell me?” her mother cried, coming around the table to grab a hold of her daughter.

“Owww, mama, I’m sore…please…don’t.” Right away, Lydia pulled away.

“I’m sorry, honey. Where you hurtin’ at?” Sylvia wiped at her tears.

“All over…especially my scalp…I’ve been removing loose hair all night and morning.”

“You wanna take somethin’? A painkiller?” Lydia asked. Sylvia shook her head. “No, mama, I’ll be fine.”

Lydia walked around the table and took a seat across from her daughter. “You say he tried to…what stop him from doin’ it?” she asked softly.

“My neighbor, he heard me screaming. He stopped him.”

“Neighbor? What neighbor…you ain’t got no neighbors.”

“I do now. He lives across the road from me.”

“Oh…he heard you screamin’ from all the way over there?”

Sylvia shook her head, answering, “It’s a long story, mama.”

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” she returned. “See, that’s why I can’t live in no place like that. Ain’t nobody close enough to hear you screamin’ if you need help. An’ you probably didn’t have your doors locked, ‘cause you think white people don’t break in to do harm. But they just as crooked as any nigga out here on the street—”

“Mama, I hate that word! Why do you have to use the word nigga to describe black people?”

“I ain’t talkin’ about just black folks! Anythang can be a nigga! There’s Mexican niggas! Puerto Rican niggas! And you best believe there be some white niggas, too. It ain’t got nothing to do with color!”

“I know that, but that’s not how you used it!”

“Look, girl, don’t be tellin’ me how to talk! Fact is, you don’t think there no white niggas, and one slipped up in there on you! Running from the ones here in the city, you set yo’self up fo’ a country, redneck nigga!”

“Mama! Who said he was white?”

“Okay, what was he then?” Lydia asked, already knowing the answer. Sylvia sat back drawing in a deep breath. “Well?” she asked again.

“White,” Sylvia confessed.

“Um-hm, just what I thought. I rest my case. Now, who this neighbor that stop him?”

Dread…anxiety…trepidation. That question from her mother started all of those feelings to flow through her bloodstream. She sat so long, so quietly, that it only made it worse. Her mother shifted in her seat, and one eyebrow rose as she leaned on the table. Then anticipating a juicy explanation, reached behind her to turn off the boiling greens then turned back to her daughter. “Might as well tell me everythang now, it’s gone all come out later, anyway, and I don’t got time to be waitin’ for it later.”

Sylvia propped her elbow up on the table to lean her forehead in the palm of her hand, trying to prepare herself for where this would go with her mother.

“Spit it out!”

“My neighbor … is … interested …in me,” she began slowly.

“Um-hm…what’s his name?”

Sylvia gulped, holding her forehead still. “Shawn…Everett… McPherson.”

“Um-hm…an’ white,” she stated matter of fact.

“Yes.”

“I see…and he hear you screamin’ from way cross the road, huh?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then how he hear you?”

“He was…at my door…when he heard me screaming.”

“Um-hm…what he doin’ at your door?”

“Mama…do you have to ask me every tiny little detail?”

“What you tryin’ to say? Ain’t none of m’business?”

“I didn’t say that, mama.”

“Oh, yeah, you did—just said it different.”

Sylvia whimpered as if in pain. “He was there to get his keys, mama.”

“His keys? What you doin’ with his keys?”

“He went out of town on business. He’s an artist. I agreed to watch his house for him. When he returned, he came to mine to get his keys. But at the time, I was screaming in fear for my life. He came in, jumped on the man—beat him up. I called the police. The police came. The man was arrested. I filed charges right away this morning and I came here to get away from there. I just didn’t feel safe at home there anymore.”

“I see. There with all them white folks…see what like’ta happen? Now you need to just pack up all your stuff, and get your butt back here at home where you belong.”

“Mama, please…don’t start. I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I just needed to get away for now. Can I just stay here for a while until I can decide what it is I need to do?”

“Now you know you ain’t even got to ask me that. Your room up in that front where it’s always been, and always gonna be. You stay as long as you want. But you ask me, I thank you need to just sell that house and move back here. But that’s just my opinion, you do what you want.” With that said, her mother rose, going to the cabinet to remove two plates and began fixing them with greens and catfish for them to eat.

In the days that followed, Sylvia slipped into sleeping late, helping her mother around the house, and finishing the basement that she was remodeling herself. They fussed and carried on as usual. Her mother wanting to do it her way, and Sylvia thinking her crazy because her mother was in her early sixties, arguing, “Mama, I can’t believe you’re doing this by yourself! Why don’t you hire a contractor for this?”

“Where do you suppose I get the money to pay one? I have to get things done myself, if it’s gone be done the way I want it. You ain’t got to help! I’m use to doing things by myself, for myself.”

“Lord, here she go,” Sylvia mumbled, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “I’m here, aren’t I? And I’m helping, so don’t start.”

“Don’t tell me what not to start! You got money to hire people for whatever you need! I don’t have that luxury,” she fussed on. Sylvia moaned and continued to work, wondering if she needed her head examined. Home was starting to take on its old appeal once again. Maybe if she installed bars and padlocks galore, she would come to trust it once again, feeling safe and secure. She’d gone to the post office to have her mail held until she picked it up, and called her daughter and son to inform them that she was going to Chicago for awhile to visit with her mother, leaving out the reason she’d decided to do so. She’d been at her mother’s for close to two weeks when the doorbell rang. They were just coming up on the back porch when they heard it.

“Get the door, Sylvie, I’m tired.”

She walked through the house, stopping at the bathroom to give herself a quick look over in the bathroom mirror. “Girl, get out the mirror and answer the door! Goodlan’ you always primpin’,” her mother fussed as she took a seat in the kitchen. With a sigh and rolling of her eyes, Sylvia exited the bathroom and went to the door, going through the many locks and the padlock on the gate. The bell rang again.

“I swear, I’m gone start back to putting soap in that doorbell…get on my nerves…people just lay on it…” her mother grumbled from the kitchen as Sylvia made her way down the stairs. She picked up the curtain from the glass window of the door, and looked out – to get the shock of her life!

Shawn stood outside the vestibule door looking and waiting for someone to come down. After about four minutes, the curtain lifted on the inside door. He chuckled to see eyes so beautiful, they took his breath away. Those same eyes widened to a round that he feared them popping out of her head. Grinning, his gloved finger lifted to wiggle her forward to let him in.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” Sylvia sang in litany. Her heart was pounding in double rhythm for double reasons. Shawn Everett McPherson was standing at her mother’s door…in Chicago! He was the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen, and she was scared to death! She was shaking; the sight of him momentarily mesmerized her. He’d grown long sideburns, connecting to a very nicely-shaped beard where his mustache also connected. The look took her breath away. He was rugged, masculine, and sexy as hell! In disbelief, tears came to her eyes.

“Sylvia! Who at the door?” her mother yelled.

“Oh man, oh man, oh man, oh man, oh man! What am I gonna do?”

Turning the same finger that gestured to her, he wrapped on the glass, {{ thump, thump, thump }} “Hey…you mind opening the door? It’s cold out here, you know!” Shawn yelled from outside, his breath misting and lifting in confirmation to the cold.

“Sylvia?!”

“Yeah?!”

“Who at the door?”

“At the door?”

Shawn gestured with his arms crossed over his chest, his hands rubbing his upper arms like he was freezing, his body bobbing up and down as if needing to generate heat, when he was not cold at all, but it was a good show.

“Chile, what is your problem?” her mother called down, now at the top of the stairs, looking at her daughter. Sylvia stood at the bottom door with the curtain open, looking back and forth from outside to back up at her.

“Who at the door!” her mother asked again, getting impatient.

“At this door?” Sylvia gulped, nervous, looking stupid. Her mother put her hands on her hips, asking, “Have you lost your min’? Is somebody at the door or not?” she demanded.

Sylvia nodded her head rapidly yes.

“Who?” her mother asked.

“Ummmm, it’s for me.”

“Well, don’t just stand there looking crazy…open the door!”

“Oh…okay.” Sylvia took one last look up at her mother, then taking a deep breath, she opened the bottom door with all its locks and walked over to the outside door, unlocking it to admit Shawn, who was grinning with a slightly red nose.

“What are you doing here?” Sylvia whispered in a panic.

“What are you doing here?” he asked her back.

“I live here!” she returned.

“Sorry, but if my memory serves me correctly, you live in Camp Daniels, Wisconsin…across the road from me.”

“Urg! I can’t believe you, my mother lives here! You’re at my mother’s house! Do you know that?”

“I sure do.”

“Well, why are you here? How did you know I was here? How did you find me?”

“Sylvia!” Her mother called down again.

“Oh, man! Yes, mama?”

“Who are you talking to down there at my door?!”

“Ummmm—” Sylvia started with a squeak, but was cut off as Shawn stepped around her to stand in the doorway where she was looking up.

“It’s me, ma’am, I’m at your door!”

“What the hell? Who is me!” she demanded to know, coming back from the dining room to the top of the stairs to look down to see what was going on, and who was at her door answering her in some white man’s voice. Sylvia thought she was going to faint. Her heartbeat picked up in double pace once again.

“That would be me, ma’am…Shawn Everett McPherson,” he spoke to her from down at the door, now standing more inside than out. Sylvia stayed hid behind him, trying to get over the shock of him being there, and trying to figure out how to handle this situation that was once again getting out of her control.

“I don’t know no Shawn Everett McPherson…oh, wait…Lo-o-ord ha-a-ave mercy! Chile, chile, chile…”

“Um, ma’am…I live in Wisconsin, across the road from your daughter. Well, she up and disappeared on me a week and a half or more ago, following a particular incident that left me concerned about her welfare. I’m just here to see that she’s alright, ma’am.” He heard Sylvia whimpering behind him.

“Well, come on up in the house. Y’all lettin’ all my heat out! Sylvia, lock my doors and get on up here. Damn near forty years old, and you still don’t know how to treat company. Come on up here, boy!”

Shawn grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” He turned back to Sylvia, who was now locking the doors, first the outside, then back into the inner entryway. Shawn waited for her. As she turned in the narrow stairway, she was staggered by the size of him there. He seem to fill the entry.

“Ladies first.” He stood back against the wall to let her pass him, his insufferable grin in place. She stopped two steps above his, meeting him eye to eye.

“I am going to kill you,” she grit out between clenched teeth.

“Emmm, softly…gently, I hope…but then, I like it a little rough, too…you lead, I’ll follow, okay?” He grinned more and then winked at her.

Her eyes got huge.

“You behave yourself in front of my mother…do you understand?” she ordered.

That grin again. “Yes, ma’am, you betcha!” He saluted her. Shaking her head, she turned and headed up the stairs with him behind her. Her rear end felt warm because she knew him well enough to know that he was eyeing her there with wicked things on his mind. “Stop it!” she ordered, marching up with him close at her tail. “What? I’m not doing anything…just admiring the view, that’s all.” His chuckle followed that statement and her up the stairs. She whimpered, trying to figure out what had she done to deserve this.

---

Chapter 24

When Sylvia entered her mother’s apartment, she was sitting at the dining room table with her arms crossed on it, waiting for them to appear. Taking another of the deep breaths she needed so far, Sylvia stopped near the table to introduce them.

“Mama, this is my neighbor—”

“Lock my door,” Lydia stopped her, ordering and eyeing the tall, white man now standing in her dining room. As much as she hated to admit it, he was a handsome devil, big strong, strapping, vibrant male. Then he turned his grin on her. She looked away, blushing and shaking her head.

“Lord have mercy…I know your type from a hundred miles away. You after my daughter for no good?”

“After your daughter? Absolutely! For no good? No, ma’am, I only have the best of intentions in mind for her. But she’s a bit of a runner, likes to take off on me now and again, and well…here I am, running in circles and jumping through hoops after her, to win her attention.” The charm was oozing into the room and surrounding Lydia. Both heard and ignored the whimper from behind Shawn.

“I see. Sylvia, you ain’t tell me all this. Now I see why you kept so much to yourself,” she observed. Shawn was dressed in black jeans, a black and white tweed sweater and white shirt, wearing a black leather jacket over it all, and he smelled wonderful. The incredible scent of Devin by Aramis filled the room, surrounding both women.

“You mean to tell me she didn’t tell you about me? Now that hurts…hurts me to my heart. After all I’ve gone through for this woman, to be spurned at every attempt! I can tell you this, she knows how to crush a man’s confidence.” He made sure to keep eye to eye contact with her mother, flashing a bright, white smile that few women could survive, especially with the play of his dimples. Lydia chuckled, shaking her head.

Sylvia stood back from him, watching him work her mother for everything he was worth. She wanted to kick him but didn’t.

“You mean to tell me, you drove all the way down here from Wisconsin for her, when she do you like that?” she asked, grinning now herself, enjoying his presence and the charm. At the moment unconcerned with him being white. He was a breath of fresh air and she was eating it up.

“What can I say, ma’am? Not everyday a man encounters a woman like this one, until now, that is.”

“Oh, give me something to stand on, it’s gettin’ deep,” Sylvia mumbled from behind Shawn. He heard her and grinned.

Unable to resist it, he kept it coming, “Here I thought she was an original, only to see she’s just a copy…but you know what they say about copies…the quality is not quite the same as the original.” Lydia was all teeth, and he did get the kick now to his Achilles tendon, this time “Owww! She kicked me, see how mean she is?” He grabbed the back of his ankle, lifting it up, looking back at Sylvia who stood with narrowed eyes.

“What you kick that man for? Here, you sit on down. Take that jacket off. My daughter ain’t got no manners or hospitality. Girl, get his jacket and hang it up! Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, ma’am, I—”

“Mama, he’s not staying, he just dropped by—”

“Excuse me? I didn’t drive four hours to ‘just drop by’. However, I should go and get myself a room first,” he inserted, looking from Sylvia to her mother.

“Look, don’t you mind her. As for a room, I got one right off the kitchen you can stay in—”

“Oh, ma’am, I couldn’t,” Shawn returned, looking sincere but not.

“No, mama, he can’t…he’ll get a room.”

“I beg your pardon, this my house. And if I say he stays, then he stays. Understand?” She was looking at Sylvia, who sighed deflated. Then she turned to Shawn. “My house and hospitality not good enough for you?” Her hands were on her hips.

“Yes, ma’am, it is. I’d be delighted to stay. I just didn’t want to put you out. See, I’m a man with a mighty big appetite and well, truth be told, I’m hungry now. So I better—”

“You just go get whatever bags you brought with you and bring‘em in. Sylvia gone get something on for you to eat right now. Aren’t you?”

Sylvia’s mouth dropped wide open.

“I was kinda hopin’ for some greens, ma’am, and some catfish…if you can direct me to a restaurant—”

“Lord have mercy, listen at him. What you know about greens and catfish?”

“Don’t let the color fool you, ma’am, don’t let the color fool you. I happen to be a man with very good taste in food and…in women.” His eyes were right on Sylvia when he said it.

“Ooohhhwee!” Her mother chuckled. “You just go get your bags and get settled in your room, and I’ll fix you up some serious greens and catfish.”

“Yes, ma’am…you sure? I mean, I could go out for it. Better yet, how about I take you two out for dinner? To a real good soul food restaurant?”

“Listen here, you just go get them bags, I’ll take care of the rest!” she ordered in no uncertain terms. “Sylvia, I’m going to the store. You get in that kitchen and fix him something to hold him off till I get back and cook him some sho’nuff good greens and catfish. Boy, you days too late, we had that the day Sylvie come. That’s okay, I don’t never get tired of eatin’ some greens and catfish.”

Sylvia rolled her eyes to the ceiling and headed off to the kitchen, sticking her finger down her throat, gesturing nausea when she heard him say, “So what’s your specialty…collards, turnips, or mustard? I like turnip and collards the best.” Again he was grinning, waiting for her mother to get her coat and purse, leaning against the dining room table as comfortable as if he’d been there many times. Wowing, thrilling, shocking her mother into laughter and high squeals. In the kitchen leaning against the sink, she heard her mother give him the keys to the house. “Here, baby, don’t wait for her to open the door for you…she have you out there all night.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I didn’t think she was ever gonna open the door when I came.”

“I know…it’s my own home and she had me out there ringing the bell, for ten minutes when I get home! And, baby, you don’t want to be caught out on my doorstep in this neighborhood with no quick way in. Here…let me show you the keys, follow me. She grow up here using these keys, and still don’t know’em.” That spun Sylvia into view from the kitchen down the hall, where she stood looking at them about to exit.

“Mama! You know you didn’t have all these locks on the door when I was living here!” she defended herself. Her mother stood dressed to go out, with Shawn standing behind her; both looking at her as if uninvited to speak while they were talking.

“Is anybody talkin’ to you? Get back in that kitchen and fix him somethin’ to eat!” her mother ordered.

Sylvia stomped her foot and spun out of sight. Not from what her mother said…but from the irritating grin and wink Shawn taunted her with. Sylvia was infuriated. In a matter of minutes, Shawn had shown up at her mother’s and once again, he had just taken over, charming her mother as he did other women. And her mother didn’t even like white men, white people much, period! Not that she was hardcore prejudice or anything, it was just that Sylvia never really heard her say much that was all that positive about them. Yet, for Shawn Everett McPherson, one would think she had a crush on him or something. “Ugggh!” Sylvia grunted and shook, slamming the refrigerator door. “I don’t know what to fix him!” Standing there a moment facing the refrigerator, she thought about the quick hot snacks she made for her children when they got home from school hungry.

“Ramen noodles!” she exclaimed as it came to her. “I shouldn’t fix his butt anything! I mean, come up in here at ease as you please, twisting my mama around his finger! Just wait till he get back up here. I got a thing or two to say to you Mr. McPherson. You can twist my mother and other women around your finger, but I have your number! Will not be pulling that mess on me!” she grumbled low, yanking out a small pot, filling it with hot water to put on to boil. From the refrigerator, she took out an egg, mozzarella cheese to grate on the noodles when they were done, and two Oscar Mayer hot dogs, wishing to make it filling for him. Heading for the pantry, she grabbed two packs of chicken-flavored noodles, breaking them up while they were still in the closed plastic wrapper. At the boiling pot, she chopped up the weiners and dropped the segments into the water. Grabbing a bowl from the cabinet, she cracked the egg in it; that’s when she heard the jingling of the keys. He was back with his bag. Her insides turned to mush; she battled with anticipation and simmering hostility. The gate slid back into place, the lock went on.

She beat the egg harder.

The door closed, the locks clicking.

She beat faster, her heart pounding, nerves rattled.

Finally, his footsteps coming toward the kitchen.

Bracing herself, she faced away from the hallway, setting the bowl down and picking up the noodle packs to dump them into the boiling water. She knew he stood quietly behind her, watching. After the second pack, if felt as if his voice gripped her from the depths of her being.

“Why’d you leave me?” he asked the question deep and soft. She turned, facing him.

“I didn’t leave you, I just left. What are you doing here?”

“What do you think?” He sat his leather case down to take off his jacket.

“How’d you know I was here?”

“I’ll always know where you are. Either you’ll tell me, or I’ll find out.”

“Oh, I see. You’re into stalking now, are you?”

“Is that supposed to be funny?” he asked in all seriousness.

“Let me get something across to you right now, Shawn Everett McPherson. I’m a grown woman, single and free. I can come and go as I please, and I certainly don’t have to report to you when I do so!”

“So you’re back to running again.”

“I’m not running from anything! I just needed to get away!”

“From me?”

“Look, I don’t know why you drove all the way here! I told you the way I felt before that happened!”

“It seems to me you’ve forgotten something!” he replied, picking up his case, carrying it into the room around the door from where he’d been standing, tossing his jacket on the bed along with the case.

“What?” The water from the noodles started boiling over. She turned adding the beaten egg, stirring it in. Behind her, Shawn snatched off his sweater, laying it on the bed. Reaching up, he undid the top three buttons on his shirt as he came back into the kitchen where Sylvia stood finishing up his soup.

“I suppose you’re going to stand there and tell me that you’ve forgotten everything else that happened earlier that evening?” He was leaning against the counter by the sink, his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for her answer.

“And I suppose you’re going to just forget everything I said to you, before you forced that kiss on me.”

“Oh, isn’t this nice…now I forced the kiss on you.”

“You know you did, you said it yourself!” she returned, walking by him to the cabinet, bringing down a large bowl for her to pour the noodle soup into. One thing was for certain, no matter what her mind argued in the war against her body, every time she was within inches of him, her system went into a squirming frenzy. Not a moment was wasted to open up space between them. Pouring the finished soup in the bowl, she sat it down on the table.

“Here! I don’t want mama thinking I didn’t feed you enough.” She turned and started putting everything away as he stood quietly watching the steam rise from his soup. For some strange reason, he thought they’d gotten past this hold up in their relationship, but obviously he was wrong and he wasn’t quite sure of what to do to get past it. He’d worked frantically on the drawings and painting for the book layout of Mercy James’ trilogy in the time Sylvia up and left without a word. He wasn’t done, but he could no longer concentrate on what he was doing. He’d remembered her daughter’s name and called information.

Talking to her, he’d made the reason he needed to know where Sylvia was and the number sound like legitimate business. Her daughter wasn’t stupid…what had won her to giving it over was that she simply liked him. There he stood, her daughter liked him, her mother even liked him so far, but as for her…jeez louise! He had work to do at home, it was his livelihood, and here he was just about begging Sylvia Payne to trust and love him. To give him a chance. Well, he hadn’t said that in so many words, but he wasn’t about to risk being a complete idiot and give his heart free and clear to a woman who had practically fought him at every turn. He stood there so long, she finished cleaning up, asking him, “Are you going to eat or not?”

“I’ve lost my appetite,” he returned sad, quiet. “Eat some with me, I don’t want to eat alone,” he invited softly. She sighed. “Please?” he asked again.

“Reach up beside you and pass me a bowl.” She gave a soft smile behind the request.

After dividing the noodles between them, they sat in silence eating when he spoke up saying, “What all did you put in here? I’ve never had’em like this before.” She grinned, slurping up a long noodle.

“You mean to tell me, I’ve fixed something to your satisfaction, something different?” she simpered.

He had that devil come in his eyes. “I never said it was to my satisfaction.”

She shot to her feet with her hands on her hips. “Listen here, Mr. McPher—”

Suddenly his hands were at her waist, pulling her onto his lap. “Shawn!” she squealed, her heart hammering with excitement, her body reacting with absolute arousal. Hands pressed at his shoulders she tried to push back off, but he held her firm, bringing her closer to him. “What do I have to do to convince you of how much I want you?”

“Shawn…please.” She was still struggling, growing weaker by the moment.

“I missed you…while you were gone. I missed you while I was gone. All those nights, us talking on the phone, made me miss you even more. I know what you do to me; what do I do to you, Sylvia? What does being this close to me make you feel?” he asked softly, huskily.

Sylvia sucked in a gasp, staring into his eyes, he had the most endearing face, and the new-grown beard…she couldn’t help herself; giving up the fight, she melted as her hands came up to cup his cheeks, running her fingers through the course, bristly dark facial hair. He sat staring up at her, a softness came into her eyes as they suddenly watered up.

He found renewed hope in that look. She might not say it, but he saw it in her eyes, she loved him.

“I…” She gulped, a tear fell, she lowered her forehead to his.

“What, baby…tell me,” he coaxed gently.

Rolling her head back and forth on his. “I can’t…” His hands moved up from her waist to her back, pulling her in closer. This time it was Sylvia who initiated it, the kiss; she had to, she just had to taste him. He was so close, smelling so good. Feeling so solid, warm, and masculine. His lips met hers halfway in the very short distance they had to travel. Very warm, nice and moist…hesitant and careful. The warm breath of him mixed with hers as they both took their time savoring the contact. Gentle pecks that turned her head this way and that, building steadily to something more urgent.

Strong hands gripped her shoulders, pulling her tighter, closer; he turned his head and couldn’t hold back, opening his mouth to fuse with hers he worked his tongue between her lips, through her teeth and found the tip of her tongue there waiting for him. They met and entwined, with a gasp, the kiss became devouring. Sylvia felt heat surge through her with maddening speed, her body took over.

She broke the kiss for a quick instant to straddle his lap; immediately, Shawn pulled her onto his hardening length, grinding it into the v of her heat, watching the expression on her face, he wanted her to know what she did to him, unable to resist, he brought her open mouth back to his as he rocked her on his throbbing erection.

Sylvia whimpered, her heart was pounding so hard she couldn’t catch her breath, then felt her hips gripped tightly in his hands as he pressed hard up against her, forcing her to grind down on him. He coached her to rock back and forth on his turgid length; for Sylvia, it had been so long.

Too long.

She knew it was going to happen, she was going to embarrass herself and climax any second, but it was now past the point of no return. She needed to, it gripped her at that point where she had to have it and he was about to make it happen. His tongue was solid and probing, filling her mouth as she sucked it in more. Another frantic, grappling, grinding, surging moment passed when suddenly, Sylvia’s mouth tore from his as her head went back.

“Ohhh god! Ohhhh…ohhh goooddd!” Her head tossed and turned as she bit into her bottom lip. Her mind and brain scattering images and thoughts in a blurry haze as her body shivered and trembled. Whimpering, mewling, wracking spasms still held her prisoner as finally, Shawn’s soft voice broke through to her sense of hearing.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it. It’s only the beginning…it’s only the beginning. Every time we make love— it’ll be like this, but better—much better.”

Her forehead was once again back on his, resting there, trying to bring her breathing down. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I did this.” His reply was to tilt his head back and kiss her once again, softly…lovingly. A moment later she pulled away looking him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

He smiled. “For what?”

“Well, you…ummm…didn’t – really get anything out of that.” She went bashful on him.

He chuckled softly. “I got more than you’ll ever know out of that – besides, it gives me something to look forward to, doesn’t it?” He gave her another peck on the lips.

“Come home with me. Don’t let me leave here without you.”

She looked into his eyes, thinking it over, when the door bell rang. “Mama!” She was off his lap in an instant.

“You get to the bathroom, I’ll let mama in,” he responded, moving fast as she was. “Oh, thank you. You think she’ll know?” He shrugged, “You better hurry or she will.

Shawn ended up staying longer than he intended. Once Lydia took him to the basement to show him what she was doing, that was it. His conscience would not let him leave her with the task that she was undertaking. Once again, he surprised Sylvia with another skill she hadn’t expected of him. Working together with his direction, they were able to get quite a bit done. She also noted that her mother didn’t argue with Shawn on how things were to be done, which she brought to her attention, with her mother replying, “But he know what he doing, you don’t…so you can’t tell me nothin’ when you don’t know.”

Sylvia’s response was to make a face behind her back.

The evenings, however, belonged to them, even though they had to part at bedtime, because Lydia wasn’t having it, them sleeping under her roof in the same bed. She made that point very clear; respectfully, they stuck to it. Long before bedtime arrived, they made the time in Chicago enjoyable. Winter didn’t hamper their fun. They saw shows at the Chicago theatre. Went to the movies, out to dinner, hit several live comedy houses and the most memorable night, was at a nightclub where they enjoyed drinks, dinner and dancing. Jazz, sexy and provocative. A saxophone, a piano, a soft drummer and a female vocalist who sang in a way that made a woman want her man in the best possible way.

Slowly they danced and swayed, taken away with sounds that meant to seduce, leading to one sure-fire way of ending the evening to make it simply perfect. He hailed a carriage to take them for a ride around the city lake shore. The night was cool and brisk, but not freezing. Perfect for a couple in love to cuddle close and snuggle up as the horse and driver contributed to a most perfect night.

“Are you okay?” Shawn asked with Sylvia held closely against his side, his arms comfortably around her. “Oh, yeah, this is nice,” she simpered then snuggled closer.

“You sure?”

Giggling, she nodded her head. “Very sure.”

“Good.” He sighed. “So now what, lady?”

She nestled her head in the crook of his neck, kissing him lightly there, making little wet pecks.

“Emmmm, nice…so what are you telling me?” He moaned, then whispered the question softly.

She pulled back and looked up at him. He lowered his mouth and kissed her gently, lightly, rising again to look down at her.

“I want you,” she said it this time, not him.

His brows shot up surprised. “What did you say?”

She stared at him a moment and knew that it was true…she was done trying to fight it. Come what may, she wanted this man…and she was willing to do whatever it took to get him and keep him.

“I…want…you…Shawn Everett McPherson. I want you,” slowly, then again for emphasis, she said the words he wanted to hear.

“Wow. So what are you saying?”

“Let’s get a room.”

“All night?”

“All night.”

“What’s mama gonna say?” he mocked.

“I’m grown. We won’t be under her roof, mama gonna have to understand, and if she don’t, then I’m gonna have to explain it to her.”

He threw his head back and let out a laugh so deep and sexy, she laughed too, and was turned on even more. Coming down from his laughter, he looked at her shaking his head.

“A room, you say? All night? Well, I think I’m gonna have to accommodate you, lady…on one condition,” he informed her.

A perfectly arched brow rose. “Oh, yeah, and that is?”

“Tell me you love me,” he said on baited breath. Of all the things he would say, that was not what she expected.

“Now why would I do that, when you, sir, haven’t said that you love me.” She smiled.

He grew serious. “I…love…you. Like I have never loved a woman ever in my life…I love you.”

Sylvia’s eyes grew wide as her heart leapt into her throat. His declaration was shaking her to the core; fear once again sprang to life. She had resigned herself to being with him, but not with the thought in mind that it could mean so much as this, what he was saying, so soon. What if he was saying it just to get her in bed? But that didn’t make sense; she’d already opened the invitation for him to take her to bed, so there was no need for him to say it.

“Well, either I’ve shocked you into sheer disbelief, or you’re trying to think of a way to let me down gently.”

Stunned, she shook her head as unbidden tears came to her eyes.

“No…I’m not letting you down…easily.” She gulped.

“No?” He grinned.

Again she shook her head. “No.”

Now he was chuckling. “So then I’ve shocked you?”

She nodded vigorously. “Yes.”

He reached up and caught a tear. “Hmmm, soooo, can I assume that this possibly means…you love me?” he coaxed. She swallowed, taking a deep breath, then nodded again vigorously.

“Say it…say you love me.”

“I-I do.”

“No…no, no, no. That’s good, I like that. Keep that one in mind, especially for later, when we get married. But right now, ‘I love you’ would be perfect.”

“Married?”

“Well, yeah…not tonight, but…I’m thinking, not too far into the future – I did after all, tell your mother that I had the best of intentions for you.”

“Oh my god,” she cried.

He laughed. “No, I love you.”

“Yes!”

“Yes, what?”

“I love you!”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes, I’m sure!”

“I don’t know…seems to me, I was pulling teeth to—”

Cutting him off was her hands gripping his face, bringing his lips down to her, kissing him with all the love she was feeling. “Emmmm.” He moaned, enfolding her into his arms, leaning over her as he deepened the kiss. After a moment thus, he slowly lifted, she repeated, “I love you…I love you.” He smiled softly down at her, going down for a peck on her lips, once, twice, three times.

“Now can we get a room?” she asked.

He roared into laughter. “You got it, lady, you got it.” He turned away from her and leaned forward, calling out to the driver of the carriage, telling him that they were ready to be taken back to the jazz club.

Climbing into his SUV Sylvia settled back in comfort. Before closing her door, Shawn leaned in kissing her again. When he pulled away, there was nothing but excitement and anticipation in his eyes…oh, yeah, and love. He soundly closed her door and made it around his car in record speed, just as Sylvia hit the auto unlock. He jumped in, started his vehicle, and turned to her asking, “You’re sure, you’re sure?”

She laughed out. “Yes, I’m sure!”

He shivered, rubbing his hands together, shaking his head. “Ooooh, Otis, don’t fail me tonight,” he mumbled in a singsong that cracked Sylvia up. “You are one crazy white man…do you know that?” she asked.

“What! What’s crazy about a little prayer? Buckle up.”
Shaking her head, she did so as he pulled out into traffic heading for State Street to the Embassy Suites Hotel downtown. He’d stayed there before on business when he’d come to Chicago and loved their accommodations.

“Please tell me why a man like you would need a prayer?” she asked as he drove.

“Sweetheart, I need you to prepare yourself, because this is going to be hard for even you to believe…but…I’m…well, I’m normal.” Again Sylvia was lost in shocked laughter. “Human, yes, I know as incredible as that is, it’s true. And lady, I want you bad. Overexcitement can sometimes lead to disappointment. Tonight’s not the night for that. Know what I mean?” His frank honesty impressed her, even though it was shrouded in arrogant humor.

“So are you saying that…” she snickered, “Otis has let you down before?”

“Otis has never let me down! But never has there been a time when I’ve wanted so much to do this so…so…hmmmm…”

“Right?” she offered the answer.

He glanced at her briefly, giving a gentle smile. “Yeah…I don’t want to disappoint you. I want to please you, completely. Before, I never gave it a thought. I was always confidant. With you, it’s different.”

“How so?” she asked softly.

“With you, I wouldn’t put it past you to say something like, what was that…you got to be kidding me?” he mimicked her black dialect with the shake of his head, sending Sylvia into uncontrollable laughter.

“I know you, lady…I don’t think you’re the kind to fake it,” he added, grinning. Sylvia laughed even harder, tears coming to her eyes. “I’m right, aren’t I? See, that’s the thing that scares white men away sometimes, black women won’t fake it! At least white women feel bad for you and try to spare your feelings; they’ll fake it, just to get it over with. But black women…no way, I know, and I’ve heard!”

“You know? You’ve heard? I see, and who told you that mess?” she asked, coming down from her laughter.

“True or false? Right or wrong?” he asked grinning.

She smiled. “Hmph, I guess you ‘bout to find out, silly white man.” Again he gave show of a shivering shake.

“You scared?” she taunted.

With a lift of his brow, he cut her a look out the side of his eyes. “I guess you ‘bout to find out, sexy black woman.”

She crinkled her nose and shifted in her seat, wondering what other black women he’d been with? Considering it was in his past, and this night was their’s, she wasn’t going to worry about digging there.

He went immediately to the Embassy, stopping out front for the valet to take his vehicle to the underground parking. Stepping out of the vehicle, Shawn handed the young man his keys, and made his way around to Sylvia’s door opening it for her. Taking her hand, both felt an instant surge through their bodies in anticipation for what was to come.

Once Shawn had the key to a room and Sylvia knew the room number, they parted ways at the elevator. “I’ll be up in a minute. I need to visit the gift shop,” she informed him. With the raising of his brow, he thought about that and changed it. “I think you can go on up now, and I’ll be there in a moment,” he suggested.

“But—” she started and he covered her lips with his finger, silencing her.

“Trust me.” The elevator doors opened, he lifted her chin gently with his bent finger, placing a quick peck to her lips and stepped away with a wink, handing her into the elevator. When the doors closed, he headed for the gift shop.

On their floor, the doors opened, Sylvia stepped out looking down each direction of the hall, and to the wall for direction to their room. Spotting it, she headed that way. Once inside, she looked the king suite over and found it very tasteful, clean and conservatively elegant. She sat her purse on the table, turned on the TV, kicked off her shoes, unbuttoned her long suede camel coat walking to the closet to hang it up, the whole time, her mother on her mind and calling her, she wanted to get this out of the way immediately, sitting on the sofa with the phone next to it on an end table, she took a deep breath and dialed her mother’s number; fourth ring, she answered.

“Hello?”

“Umm, mama…it’s me. An-n-nd, well, don’t wait up for us tonight.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

“Mama, come on. You know what that means. We won’t be home tonight.”

Silence prevailed for a space of time and finally Lydia said, “Old as you is, a man invite you t’get a room, and you ain’t got sense enough to play hard to get and say no?”

Sylvia chuckled. “For your information, mother dear, I asked him to get the room. I just called to let you know…I won’t be home. I love you, now goodnight.” Smiling, she hung up the phone.

Standing, she smiled seductively to the room at large, and sashayed to the bathroom to start the shower. She’d been in there for maybe twenty minutes when she heard a tap on the door.

“It’s me, can I come in? I brought you some things.”

“Come in!” she yelled over the shower spray. “What’d you bring me?” she asked, looking around the side of the shower. Shawn stared at her for a moment. She had a towel wrapped around her head turban-style, making her look so exotic, enhancing her large eyes.

“Wow.” He sighed. She smiled, repeating, “What’d you bring me?”

“Oh!” He held up a medium size gift bag, then sat it on the sink counter. “I told the woman in the gift shop to fill it with all the stuff a woman who is anal about feeling soft and smelling good and sexy for a man, would need to sleep over.”

“Ach! Shawn!”

He started laughing, “Well, you are! So it’s all in there. If it’s not, it’s not my fault.”

“I am not anal!” she defended.

His continued laughter said he disagreed as something else occurred to him. “Oh, one more thing.” He disappeared, then quickly reappeared. Freezing him in place was the sight of her stepping from the shower with a towel wrapped around herself.

“Wow. Beautiful…thank you,” she gushed, walking up to him to take the satiny ecru short nightie with a short lace wrap. “Now if you’ll excuse me…” She grinned. He exhaled, backing out with the assistance of her hand on his chest pushing him back followed by the door closing in his face.

When she finally showed from the bathroom, he looked up to see what he knew she’d look like in that negligee; soft satiny cream against supple, smooth brown skin. “Have you any idea how beautiful you are?” he asked breathlessly.

She smiled without reply, looking to the table; an ice bucket held a bottle of wine with two wine glasses, sitting in a vase on the table, a dozen red roses. Tickling her senses softly in the background, a Chicago radio station playing music catered to night moods, assisting Shawn with the exact setting he wished to create.

Grinning, her eyes moved back to him, “You’re fast. Had a lot of practice, I bet.”

Shrugging, “Not necessarily all that much practice; with the right woman to inspire, a man knows how to be romantic, too.” he informed her, walking to various lights, dimming one, turning another off to dim the next, working his way to her.

“Emmm, what’s this…you still have your jacket on,” she noticed, informing him softly as he stopped before her.

“What can I say, rushing to get everything just so, I forgot about me,” he simpered low, suggestively.

“Aaah, poor you – looks like I’m gonna have to give you a little help…seeing as how you’ve done all of this, seeing to me,” she volunteered, reaching up sliding both hands across his chest, widening them under the lapels of his jacket to push it off of his shoulders.

“Lady, I’ve only just begun seeing to you.” His jacket fell free of him as Sylvia caught it on the way to the floor, tossing it to the sofa. His hands went to her waist, pulling her against his hard body. The evidence was there that he was ready, he wanted her to know it. Heat suffused her body as a moan slipped from her throat. His mouth quickly covered hers to catch that moan before its completion, stirring another one on its tail. Turning his head to deepen the kiss and insert his tongue, his hand went down her back to cup her rear. Sylvia went dizzy, her body was instantly on fire. In a frenzy, she started trying to work his shirt loose while maintaining the vigorous kiss. He pulled his lips away, breathing hard, to say, “The gift shop is open tomorrow.” and ripped his shirt open, popping off buttons. Sylvia helped him push it off of his arms to the floor. They were both breathing hard. Shawn stepped back grabbing her hand, pulling her towards him as he walked backward with promising eyes, leading her to the bedroom where the king size bed awaited.

“I hope you know this is going to take all night,” he informed her huskily.

“All night?”

“Oh, yeah…all night.”

“When will we sleep?” She gulped with her heart pounding, the bed came into full view. It was already turned back.

“Tomorrow.”

“Check out is at 12.”

“I know…but not for us. Not tomorrow, the next day.”

“Oh…I see,” she breathed as he pulled her up to him again with the back of his knees against the bed. It had been so long for her, she’d forgotten what a man was like when he was in the mood for love. With Shawn, there was no hesitation. His mouth covered hers again as he pulled her body into his, his arms around her, his hands moving, massaging up and down the back of her body. She was dazed, the room was spinning, and every single cell in her body was alive and sensitive to his touch. Moist heat flooded heavily at the juncture of her thighs. She wanted everything—right now!

“Shawn, please!” she tore her mouth away to plead.

“Oh, no…you’re not going to rush me,” he warned, pulling her hands off of him. “Come here,” he ordered climbing into the bed, pulling her in with him. She whimpered, now on her knees, moving to where he led. “Lay your head on this pillow, I wanna look at you,” he ordered again. She did as she was told, her body was so hungry she would do almost anything to be sated. She couldn’t stop squirming, the need so strong, she was almost delirious with wanting him. Kneeling there beside her, his eyes fixed on her, he snatched his sleeveless t-shirt off, undid the belt and button on his slacks, unzipping them as she watched hungrily. Working his way back to the edge of the bed, standing, he quickly removed all of his clothes as her eyes greedily took him in, her eyes went wide at his exposed manhood, what she saw wasn’t what she’d expected. Unable to lay there, being still was not possible with what was going through her system, moving back to her knees, working her way across the bed to him; her hands went to touch his chest, running her fingers through the hair there.

Her gaze was hungry. “Please.”

His answer was to strip her bare as she reached down to enclose his large erection, the solid throbbing feel of it made her heart race. Masculine, generous DNA went into the development of this man, there was nothing disappointing about him. In fact, the size of him concerned her a bit, thinking about his “all night” promise. Her first husband hadn’t been quite so well-endowed, and it had been so very long. While she anticipated the moment he entered her body, she doubted her ability to last all night.

A groan escaped him as her hand massaged and measured all nine plus inches of him, her fingers circling his circumference, noting that he was as thick as her wrist.

“Think there’s enough for you there?” he asked breathlessly.

“You have definitely shattered all the b.s. stereotype myths,” Sylvia whispered as he led her back towards the center of the bed, lying next to her. “All night, Shawn? It’s … been a while and you’re … bigger than I thought…you’d…be,” she spoke up honestly as he kissed every feature of her face, her lips, pecking at the corners while his hands smoothed over her warm, inviting body.

“I would never…abuse you…not ever.” He kissed her then, deep and lovingly…his tongue filling her mouth and telling how he would love the rest of her. Sylvia’s breathing deepened as his palm cupped her breast, the pad of his thumb rubbing the sensitive tip of her nipple, making her shiver, moan and throb even more. Her hips began gyrating of their own accord, she felt herself wet and ready as she moved closer to him, wanting him to climb up top now. His hand went to her other breast doing the same. He could feel her movements building to a feverish pitch, breaking the kiss, he couldn’t wait to taste her breast and brought her hard nipple into his mouth to suckle.

“Ooooh, Shawn…ooooh, ssssss…emmmm…pleeease.” She needed him inside of her, but he had his own agenda. Ignoring her plea, he sucked and savored as his hand went down her belly to her hairy mound. Immediately Sylvia spread her thighs for him, her pelvis thrusting up with so much need, her head tossed from side to side as she bit into her lip. “Shawn…please!” His fingers found her liquid heat. “Oh, wow…you are soaked. Has it been that long?”

“Please,” she begged, wiggling and gripping his probing fingers. She felt him turn from her, heard the distinctive sound of a condom wrapper being torn open. A moment later, he was climbing on top of her, the tip of his penis rubbing her wetness as his palms cupped her face, he started kissing her again, using his erection to stir her even more. Rubbing her below, not yet willing to fully impale her. Sylvie thrust upward, desperate and hungry for him.

“Please…please, Shawn!” she cried, panting, her hands gripping his thick strong arms as her legs rose up on either side of his hips, needing him to enter her he was making her so crazy. Finally he reached down between them and guided the thick head of him to her entrance and surged forward to enter her snug tunnel. So crazy with need, Sylvia thrust up too fast and hard to meet him and caused herself discomfort.

“Oh!” she cried out as his entire length filled her. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! Too much, too much, too much!” she panted. Shawn laid his heavy body on hers and withdrew a bit of his length, holding slightly still until her discomfort faded to be replaced with desire once again.

“Careful…careful…move slow…I’m not going…anywhere,” he coaxed, promising to give her what she needed, and began stroking slowly back and forward.

“Oh…my…god…you feel so goood,” Sylvia gasped, moving carefully, gripping the thick length of him. Her head spinning crazy as she folded her legs across his buttocks. Her hands moving up and down his arms, up to his shoulders, gripping his head and kissing him on and off. The heels of her feet caressing the cheeks of his butt, down the back of his thighs, across his calves and back up again as they both began matching a rhythm.

Shawn worked to insert more of his length slowly with each stroke, testing how much she could take before it hurt, rotating his hips in circular thrusts that further sent her into madness. Everything he did, he did with such torturous slowness, that it wasn’t long before he felt the signs of her approaching climax; her muscles tensing, her legs and arms gripping him tighter, her body honed, her facial expression one of absolute focus and then, “Shawn…”

He slowed his thrusts so she could really grip him, letting her draw him in to the spot that would send her over the edge. “Shawn!” She was shaking. “Shawn! Oh god, Shawn, I’m coming…Shawn, oh…shi-i-i-it…oh go-o-o-od! Ohhh-ohhh-ohhh…” Her body quaked as one shocking tremor after another had her head tossing and turning so she was on the verge of sobbing from a climax that wouldn’t let her go, seeming to go on and on.

Shawn was flying high seeing it, instantly all that it took to get her to this, went through his mind and he loved her more, he wasn’t about to do anything to break into this victory cry. It was pure heaven to see someone who had been so strict, rigid, hardcore determined to keep him away, melting, crying dissolving into such orgasmic bliss – losing all of her inhibitions as pleasure washed over her like being reborn. He waited for her to come down from the heavenly trip he felt elated about sending her on. When she could finally see and hear again, her body ultra-sensitive, she turned to look up at him, tears were coursing from the corners of her eyes.

“Wow…that was something to see,” he informed her softly. “I love you…always know that…that I love you.” He went down and began kissing her, moving still. Sylvia wrapped her arms around him, gripping his head while sealing their lips. Now that she’d reached her climax, the sheer size of him and his increasing thrusts were letting her know she was possibly in for more than she’d bargained for. He was a big man, tall of stature; heavy powerful body, and every bit of it was pressing into her, the most intense part of him hammering deep into her body, pushing against her so she could no longer bite her lip in silence. His entire body, from his head, neck, down his back, buttocks, legs to feet was a tight, contracted, hardened muscle all centered on his thrusts, slamming against her.

She shifted, trying to take him in but it was starting to hurt. “Ach! Shawn … oh m’god … it’s hurting …Shawn you’re hurting me – oh!” She gasped with every entry and struggled to hang on until he too came, fully aware that he was beyond stopping. His body was a machine locked into position, a hump in his back and a pounding pelvis he could no longer control. Then suddenly it happened, he threw his head back and shouted, “Fuck! Oh fuckin’ hell! Ohhh yeah! Yeah! Oh yeah!” His gruff climax, seeing it, hearing it, was worth whatever pain Sylvia had to endure. She was enraptured seeing the pleasure she brought him as he held himself deep inside her as the last of him was spent.

Collapsing beside her, he lay panting, trying to catch his breath. “Wow…holy crap…that was good.” His head turned on the pillow to look at her. “Do you agree?” Sylvia smiled. “Oh yeah, I agree…you and Otis…y’all the bomb, baby!”

Shawn’s head dug back into his pillow as he laughed deep and long. Sylvia joined him.

Understanding her limitations, Shawn backed off of the “all night” declaration and only made love to her once more that night, driving her insane, taking her to the brink of blissfulness where her cries heightened his sense of pride. When they finally made it back to her mother’s, they together informed her of their plans to marry. He stayed long enough to help her mom get more of the basement done; the bathroom, two bedrooms, and the walls up and finished in the rest of the open space. There was still a lot more to do, but he’d run out of time. Before he left, he made sure they understood how to carry on without him.

The SUV was running, his bag was inside, and he and Sylvia stood downstairs in the vestibule saying their goodbyes for now. Sylvia wanted to stay a little longer with her mother. She was going to hire contractors to finish the rest of the basement, installing the kitchen, cabinets and other desires her mother chose. He was holding her in his arms, her arms around him with her head nestled under his chin.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he promised softly.

“I’m gonna miss you,” she returned with tears in her eyes.

“Now let me make sure of this before I leave here, that I have this right. Let me see. You love me, right?” She nodded her head vigorously against his chest, then sniffed.

“Annnnnd, no more doubts, right?” Again he got the vigorous nod, and another sniffle. “And last, I asked you to marry me, and you said…?” he trailed that off for her to answer.

She sniffed, leaned her head back to look up at him, and gave him the word he most wanted to hear.

“Yes.”

With both hands, he reached up to cup her cheeks, his thumbs wiping at the streaming tears.

“Good answer,” he whispered lowering his mouth to hers.

End of episode 8

For paperback, click thumbnail
For ebook this link
Otherwise, see you in two weeks
Bomaw – Episode 9