Read Family Reunion Online

Authors: Mercedes Keyes

Family Reunion (59 page)

Mike heard his words, as Manny had intended. "Mama? You didn't!? You wouldn't!?" Mike asked stunned.

Lena felt frustrated from being stopped at a most crucial moment by her son and feeling a little naughty she turned her head, looking straight up at him saying defiantly. "As a matter of fact, I did! But now that you're back, there's no chance of me getting what I was after, is there? Go – to - bed!"

Manny roared some more, bringing tears to his eyes at the expression on his son's face. Mike had no choice but to back out, saying softly. "Well, remember… Sunday's not far…wait - please."

"Goodnight - son!" Lena ordered, leaving no room for doubt that he'd been dismissed. Manny was still laughing, trying to calm down when Lena turned back to him smiling. "You dreadful man, look how you make me act!"

"You were sensational!" Manny complimented heartily, wiping at his tears as he sat back, spent of energy and resigned…for now…to wait until Sunday.

"You think so?"

"I know so." Manny confirmed lifting his head to look at her, "Any chance of us picking up where we left off?"

Lena pushed up from the sofa standing before him. "Absolutely not! I have seduced you enough for one evening. After all, I am a lady and not the type to take advantage of a man and ruin his reputation!”


Now, come along and I shall walk you to your door." She invited graciously. Manny leapt to his feet happy and smiling. "Ah and you should, the shame of it – you trying to sully my reputation and in front of the children as well. I would kindly appreciate it if you would not try that again."

He cautioned, walking past her. Appreciating the rear view, Lena walked up behind him and cupped the cheek of his buttocks, giving him a little squeeze, shocking Manny, who gasped with wide eyes and mouth.

"Madam! I'll thank you to have a care with my person, shame on you!"

"If you weren't so sexy I wouldn't be tempted to ravish you!" Her look was so saucy, Manny felt a re-hardening, turning back to being the pursuer, Lena squealed out as he went for her, dodging under his arm and running for the door. Laughing, she stood with it open, calling back teasingly. "This is to be continued…on our wedding night, goodnight Mr. Webster."

Manny chuckled, capturing and holding the look on her face in his mind for all time. Turning away from the door, he walked to the large windows, looking out at the calm sea. Standing there alone with his thoughts, his smile gradually eased, to be replaced by a look of sorrow. Nothing could be better than it was now, and yet, he suddenly felt smothered. Without warning, the picture of Lena at the hands of George Sinclair reared up in his mind. The scenes grew ever clearer with his pent up anger swelling anew. He needed a way to work off the tension, to burn his rioting energy.

 

Sighing contentedly, Lena snuggled into her pillow, a smile on her face as she thought about Manny. She went to close her eyes when she heard a big splash, making her brows draw in wonder. Faint sounds of water splashes made her sit up.
'Who in the world could be swimming at this time of night?'
She rose from the bunk, donned her robe and went into the hallway, there she met Hope.

"You heard it too hmm?" Hope nodded, "Its daddy, I could see him from our window." Lena looked a little surprised. "Your father?" Hope nodded, "Is something wrong mama, he looks so, I don't know... swimming at this time of night…" Lena stood silent in thought, her eyes met her daughter’s, "He'll be okay, go back to bed." Kissing her mother's cheek, Hope turned letting her know, "The ball was a smashing success, everyone enjoyed themselves." Lena nodded. "Good...I'm glad to hear it – goodnight."

"Goodnight mama."

Lena stood in the hall a moment and then went back in her room to lay down. She knew it was best that she leave him alone right then, Sunday needed to hurry, she needed him back in her bed, back in her arms.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

 

 

"Hey Randy, look who's comin' in the gate, think he'll have anything to say to us today, he avoided us all day yesterday." Anthony commented.

"I don't know, could be that he’s ashamed that someone got the better of him finally. Who's that man with him?" Randy wondered aloud.

"That's Mr. Webster, he owns ships down at the docks. I wonder why he's bringing Rory to school?" Timothy inserted. Anthony stood from the bench by the water fountain and began walking towards the school steps.

"Come on, let's find out what's going on."

Timothy and Randy stood, following. Rory was climbing the steps behind Manny when his school mates approached from below calling him.

"Hey Rory! Wait, what's going on?" Anthony asked.

"Yeah, why'd you avoid us yesterday? What happened to your face?" Randy questioned him.

Rory stopped with a sigh and turned to them. Manny was already at the top landing of the short porch before the doors, waiting for his son to speak to his friends.

Anthony was the last person Rory wanted to see right then and it showed in his expression and manner. "I don't recall it being any of your business!" He retorted and said to Randy, "What does it look like happened to my face?! A fight!"

Timothy was also curious but only smiled at Rory with a nod then looked up at Manny and spoke to him. "Good morning Mr. Webster."

Manny smiled and nodded. "Hello to you, umm...?... Timothy
I believe?"

"Yes sir, Timothy." He affirmed as Anthony went on, "We weren't prying, we were merely curious as to why you haven't been around much any more."

"I warned you and Randy I'd be keeping a distance; don't make me remind you why."

Anthony blushed and cleared his throat, "Aaah forget that, that's over with. We don't even go there no more." He returned, with a glance towards Manny, then back at Rory asking with a slight throw of his head,
'Who is he?'

Rory stood suddenly lacking the nerve to come out and admit Manny was his father. Doing so would start the questioning. He felt his stomach quivering with trepidation. If it was this hard for him to claim Manny, which after some figuring would label him a bastard, how in the world, would he ever be able to eventually claim Lena as his mother.

Manny could feel his struggle, and sympathized with him. He'd caught the silent inquiry and to break the silence, stepped down to Rory's level asking, “Son, would you like to stay out here with your friends or would you like to go in with me?" Rory looked up at Manny, feeling as though he had let him down. Manny only smiled and repeated. "Well son?"

Rory swallowed, took a deep breath and spat out before he lost his nerve, "No father, I'll go in with you." All three boys had been listening and found it not unusual in the least for an adult to call a young man son, but when Rory had returned with
'Father!'
That was a different matter. "Your father! He's your father? But I thought-…" Anthony stammered before Rory cut him off.

"Well you thought wrong! You don't know anything about me! Neither of you do…this is my father, Maynard Ramsey Webster. He's a merchantman. The Sinclair's were just caring for me until he returned!"

"But - but you said yourself Mrs. Sinclair was your mother?" Anthony reminded him confused.

"I never actually came out and said she was my mother, everyone had just assumed so." Rory returned.

"What about that time we asked you why you called her Miss Sandra instead of mother?"

"What about it!?" Rory snapped. "I didn't say anything because I didn't want my business chewed up by you pompous asses, so – I kept it to myself." Timothy wondered what was going on. He distinctly remembered Mr. Webster and the first time they'd met.

He hadn't claimed Rory as his
son then. Timothy sighed, sooner or later – he would know the truth, when he and Rory could be together and alone. His father had kept him from associating with Rory ever since the time he'd come home late after visiting the brothel. He missed him as a friend, regardless of the trouble he was often into.

Manny had to bite the inner lining of his mouth not to laugh out. True to his heritage, his son was a leader, not a follower. Granted, his manner left much to be desired but he understood the why of it. Remaining silent, he allowed him to deal with it as he saw fit, so far no real harm was done.

"If he's your father… who then, is your mother?" Anthony boldly inquired, ignoring Rory's gruff responses as usual. Rory's heart squeezed at that question, feeling stuck with fear and uncertainty.

"My wife of course, now if you all will excuse us, we have to meet with Mr. Huebershaw." Manny chose that moment to step in, he'd lied but felt it was necessary under the circumstances, reasoning that in a few days Lena
would
be
his wife. "Come along son, I've a busy day ahead of me." Rory visibly sighed in relief, making eye contact with Timothy, he smiled at him and turned to join Manny; both entered the building as Manny held the door for his son. "Thank you." Rory offered gratefully, once inside the halls, heading for the office of the school master.

"I understand, you do realize that a time will someday come when you will have to face that question again."

"I cannot promise anything concerning that, what you expect of me is not as easy as you think." Rory admitted honestly. "What - what made you love her the way you do? I mean, was there ever a white lady you felt that way about?" Rory asked curiously.

Manny thought about the question. "There was one ... she lacked…" Manny paused in thought. "…spirit, fight, not the least bit aggressive."

"And my mother?"

"Oh - your mother, the first time she laid eyes on me, leapt up and slapped me right across the face." Manny chuckled.

"Surely not! My mother?"

"Yes, I mean a ringing slap! She was fifteen years old at the time, I was twenty-one and never in all of my adult years had any woman had the nerve to actually attack me physically. There are so many other things about her as well. When you become a man, a real man… you will come into knowledge of what type of woman makes you feel, what your mother makes me feel… in time."

"You really love her." Rory said amazed.

"Yes, more than you'll ever know."

"Then why Gloria West?"

"Loneliness…no thought or passion … just lust, pure and simple; I couldn't go through with it. That had been decided
before
I found you in her – or rather, my bed."

Rory blushed at the reminder. For his own father to have caught him in the act of having sex and with of all people, his fiancée, was something he'd always remember. Manny saw his reddening face and chuckled. "Kind of late to be blushing isn't it?" Rory shrugged, wishing to drop that subject.

Manny laughed and clapped him on the back adding a fatherly squeeze to his shoulder. "Don't worry about it kid, it's between the two of us. Besides, you're not the first to be drawn to an older woman's bed."

"You ever ... you know, when you were young, with an older woman?"

"Why certainly! I was the master’s son on a plantation filled with women who didn't mind teaching me a thing or two…I learned a lot."

"Webster Fields…there?"

"Webster Fields, yes."

"How old was she? And you?" Rory asked with extreme interest.

"I was thirteen years old, the first time, she I believe might have been in her twenties… your grandmother caught me. Oh I'll never forget it! She was fit to be tied, screaming at me as if the devil had been released from Hades and was in me! Needless to say, all hell had broken loose in her eyes, she went straight to your grandfather with my ear firmly pinched between her fingers, this while I struggled to close my breeches."

Rory and Manny were both laughing. "Oh no…what did he do to you?"

"He took me in his study and beat the foot stool while he served me my first drink, to celebrate of course. That is when I was forced to sit through my first sermon on how often I was allowed to visit the women."

Rory laughed even more, glorying in the wonderful feeling of having a father, especially this one.

Sitting before Mr. Huebershaw, Manny borrowed the story Rory gave his friends and decided to build around it a bit. His claim was that the Sinclair's had merely taken care of his son because he was unable to.

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