BOMAW 1-3 (57 page)

They made it to the court house in one piece. Both of them laughing at the way she reacted when she stepped off the bike after riding. They went in, signed the registry, waited to be called, supplied all the necessary identification and left 20 minutes later with their marriage license. From there, they went to get a bite to eat, then went shopping and Shawn purchased her two riding ensembles at the Harley Davidson shop.

Back home, they took their things in and he talked her into packing an overnight bag, as she packed one, he rang her mom and broke the news to her. Sylvia stood in her room gathering the things she would need, listening to him and watching him charm her mother. He laughed out two or three times, a wonderful rich way down deep laugh that brought her joy to hear it. She finished and spoke with her mother next, letting her know as had Shawn, that she would be expected to attend the wedding. With that out of the way, she turned to her future husband. "So I'm all packed, where are we going now?" She asked.

"You'll see." He answered.

"Are we going on the motorcycle?"

"Yep... we sure are. So lets get going, I want to get there before dusk."

"But... where is there?"

"My folks... its time they met you."

Her eyes got huge.

"Now now, none of that. It's time... don't you think?" He asked, grabbing her bag and taking it out the door to strap onto the bike. "I guess so." She answered, her nervous state returning. "Well, lock up the house, I'm gonna do the same over there. Be right back and we're out of here for a couple of days."

Shawn had spoken and they were back on the road again. They rode for the next hour and a half, and to pass the time, Sylvia thought it was a perfect time for a little discussion.

"Well Mr. McPherson, I'm so glad you supplied us with these types of helmets, because it makes communication easy as pie."

"Oh yeah, and why are you so happy about that?"

"Because you can't escape this absolutely necessary discussion we're about to have."

"Uh oh... why do I not like the sound of that?"

"Never mind that! Now...if we're going to get married and live together, there are things we need to discuss."

"Such as?" He asked.

"Well, I think we should take turns sharing our likes and dislikes about the house, habits, vices, pet peeves, expectations. Know what I mean?"

Shawn groaned, "I'm afraid I do."

"Shawn! We need to have this talk! If we're going to live together forever, or until death us do part, we need to go into it with an understanding of each other."

Shawn groaned again.

"Shawn! If we don't have this talk...ain't gonna be no vows spoken."

"Okay okay okay... you go first. Let's hear your pet peeves and get them out of the way."

"Fine... no problem. I don't like pee stains on the toilet! I don't care if you leave the seat up, because I look before I sit anyway. I don't like stains in the bowl-... Shawn, stop laughing, this is serious! You asked now I'm telling you."

"I'm sorry...go on." He chuckled trying to keep a serious manner.

"The bathroom must be clean or it will disgust me! I don't like towels thrown on the floor and left there. Hang them up please. I don't like excess toothpaste gathering around the top of the tube to harden there where the cap will no longer screw on. Please clean off the excess and screw the top all the way back on... you're laughing again!"

"I'm sorry baby... go on."

"If you're the last person to empty the toilet roll, please replace it with the loose pull going over the top, not from the bottom. Shawn! I'm serious!"

"I know darlin' that's why I'm laughing."

"Well I'm almost done and then it will be your turn."

"Yes ma'am!" He chuckled.

"As I was saying, the bathroom... please don't flood the sink and basin top. I get crazy when there's water all over the vanity, and when you brush your teeth and spit, please do so in the toilet. Your turn."

"Oookay, don't use the hot water when I'm in the shower. Don't make me buy you tampons or Kotex pads when you're on. Don't yell at me in front of company or my family, that will piss me off in an instant. If we're in the midst of an argument, don't try to lock me out of our bedroom, because I'll kick the door in-..."

"SHAWN!" Sylvia was stunned.

"Hey, just telling you how I am. Don't treat me like an idiot, and realize that I am the man and you're the woman, I believe in the man having the last word, that would be me."

"And what if you're wrong?!"

"I'm reasonable, and I will always hear your side. I will always try to think things through before I make up my mind, but once my mind is made, that's that."

"I know you not serious."

"Yeah... I am. There is not going to be two chiefs, two chefs, and two heads. Don't work that way. I love you, and I will always put what's best for the family first. I will always hear you out because you're my partner in this. But my word is final."

Sylvia wasn't liking this...she was starting to regret the discussion.

"We'll see." Was all she could think to say.

"Sylvia, I'm not a tyrant. I would never abuse you or our children, but I'm not going to let you emasculate me... no woman will do that... you fall into that category. Your turn."

"Let's change the subject."

Shawn barked in laughter. "Baby...it's not as hard as it sounds. I want a traditional, husband-wife, man and woman relationship. I want balance. We'll be fine, you'll see. Come on, don't stop now... let me hear more. What's your favorite food?"

"Asian cuisine... I love it. Yours?"

"Greens and catfish!"

"Shawn!" Sylvia laughed out. "You have to like something more than that!"

"What'ayah talkin' about... that's a perfect food. That's what I like. I never get tired of greens, not ever! If it were left up to me, we'd eat them everyday. And catfish, best fish in the world!"

"Well we're not eating it everyday Shawn. I like it too, but not all the time."

"That's fine... I'll actually eat anything, but that's my favorite."

"Okay...what about music?" She asked.

"I love all kinds of music, even some rap if its good. I don't like trash rap...but there have been some that have come out I don't mind."

"Good...ummm, just so you know, there are times when I'm up early, I turn the stereo up loud and dance and jam as I clean."

"How loud, and how early?"

"Real loud and about 7am or so."

Shawn groaned.

"You have to compromise some Shawn."

"Alright alright, how about this... we get you an mp3 player and you can jam at 7am with your head phones on? Fair?"

"Really good ones?"

"The best baby! Only the best for you." He swore.

"Deal!"

"Next thing, you will not ever work outside of the house while we have our babies to raise. I'm the bread winner, I'll get the bills paid, so we better get them all out and see what needs to be done."

"Hmmm, ummm - Shawn."

"Yeah?" He answered.

"Which house will we be living in?"

"Mine of course."

"I like my house!"

"Armundo Payne bought that house! I'm not living in another mans house."

"I bought that house! He never even saw that house Shawn! And when you asked me could we live together, I distinctly remember you saying that you would live there in my house or I could move into yours." She reminded him.

"I was just being generously flexible at the time, I didn't really mean I would move into his house."

"It's not his house, it's my house! And that's where I'm going to live!"

Shawn groaned, "Ah hell... here we go."

"You doggone right here we go! I like my house!"

"Aaah, hell, she's pissed," Shawn muttered as he lay on the bed of the motel they'd booked into. A tiff over the living arrangements ensued. Sylvia went silent, and refused to answer anything more or carry on the discussion from the moment he
"tried"
to put his foot down and have the last word, which didn't seem to work as simply as he would have liked. He had to use the bathroom, which she knew. The moment he opened the door, she'd pushed her way in with her bag, charged into the bathroom, slammed the door and locked it, where she presently occupied as he lay back on the bed, calling her to come out and let him use the bathroom. His legs were shaking, one hand at his forehead, the other scratching his belly.

"Sylvia…come on! I gotta pee, darlin'!" He dug his head back into the mattress yelling, grinning and rubbing his tired eyes. He tried to wait it out and called his family, telling them that they were there and staying in town at the Hills Roadside Motel. He promised them that they would be there first thing in the morning. Everyone was so excited about finally meeting Sylvia.

"Aaah, man! Sylvia!
Woman,
let me in that bathroom!" He tried once more, using his best demanding voice.

"I'm not done yet…you wait!" she finally responded to him.

"Wait hell! You did this on purpose!" he finished, muttering loud enough for her to hear him. "I'm telling you—you better open that door! Stubborn-mean-ass!"

"I heard you! Now—you can just go piss up a tree!" she ordered spitefully.

Shawn burst out laughing. "Aaah, hell…God, this woman…don't make me break that door down!" he threatened in his gruffest voice.

"Go t'hell, Shawn!"

"Hey! Watch that! You don't tell your future husband to go to hell!" he barked, laughing and trying to sound serious, but all he could do was grin and shake his legs. "Baby, please…I have to pee!" he reminded her. She went silent and said nothing. Shawn leaned up, looking at the dark brown wood-panelled door. "Goddamn women…can't live with them—SYLVIA!" he shouted, sitting all the way up.

"Quit shouting like you crazy, Shawn, for somebody hear you!" she hissed from inside the bathroom.

Shawn stood, walked to the bathroom door, his long arms stretched above his head, grasping the door frame as he leaned his ear against the door, trying to listen to what she was doing. The water was running, bad idea. "Aaaaah, baby…I gotta pee, come on…please?" He groaned. "You gonna make me piss my pants!" he warned her.

"There are trees out there," she returned.

"Sylvia! I am not pissing up some goddamn tree! Now open this door!"

His pleas were met with silence. Shawn did a dancing fit, very reminiscent of a tantrum. "Sylvia! You're asking for it! Don't make me break this door in!"

"Shawn McPherson! You can kiss my black ass! I'll come out when I get ready! You ain't gone be tellin' me what to do," she mumbled low, but he heard her.

"I'll kiss that black ass all right! You know I will…right after I spank it blue! You pushin' it!" he warned.

More silence…he whimpered and did his dance again. "Baby, pul-leeease—let me in. We'll talk about it some more. If you give me a chance, I got a really good idea. While you were giving me the stubborn silent treatment, I was thinking up one helluva solution, but you got to let me in to hear it."

"What solution?" she asked.

"I'll tell you all about it, if you let me in the bathroom," he promised.

"You ain't thought up nothin'! You just want me to open this door."

"Baby…I'm serious…I've got a really good idea, two really good ideas," he promised.

"Lemme hear'em, and I may open the door," she responded, leaning on it from the other side listening to him.

"One: Let me build you a brand new home—using mine as the base for it—but you can choose the layout and everything…it can look just the way you want it to, and as you know, there's enough land there to make it as big as we want it." He had her attention.

"Hmmm, go on…and the second idea?" she asked.

Shawn was dancing with his legs twisted. "You can use your house as your own personal home business! We'll fix it up, five star quality, as a bed and breakfast! You'll run it! We'll do seasons for the area and the whole nine yards! Sylvia!" Her name came as an urgent plea from panic.

The door came open, she stepped aside as he rushed in, knocked her bag to the floor, tossed up the seat and whipped it out, leaning a hand against the wall above the toilet and started pissing a river. The pleasure of relief was clear with his sigh and smile, eyes closed dreamily as he went.

"You splashing that seat! Better clean it up!" Sylvia pointed out, grinning to herself when she heard his low throat growl at her. She grabbed her bag from the floor and went into the room to leave him still peeing in the bathroom. She'd changed into a little slinky hot pink number…satin, soft, and her favorite cut to mid-thigh sleeper. She was sexy as hell in it and knew it. The thin spaghetti straps and clinging fabric was sheer shimmer-perfection for showing off her shapely legs, strong thighs and ample butt. It hung just enough past her bottom to do the job it was intended to do.