108 - Pier Pressure

The mere sight of Santa Monica Pier filled Sheridan with a sunshine as bright as that which bounced off the Pacific Ocean.  Circling around to the front of Tony’s truck, she couldn’t see Jon’s eyes through the tinted lenses of his sunglasses, but the way he squeezed her hand when the met at the front grill told her he was sharing some of her fond memories.

“Fifty dollars,” he told her as they waited for the rest of the Bongiovi males to arrive.  The boys had kept on until Uncle Tony had agreed to bring them to The Pier in his convertible Camaro while Jon and Sheridan drove his truck to Santa Monica.  Traffic had separated the two vehicles, but the others couldn’t be far behind.  “I bet ya fifty bucks Romeo goes straight for that trapeze thing, straight outta the gate.”

She grinned up at him, adjusting the oversized sunglasses that were perched upon her own nose.  “Yeah?  Not the ferris wheel or the roller coaster?  Or the arcade?”

“Nope.”  Her husband was clearly convinced of his son’s ways.  “They have those on the Jersey Shore.  Don’t get me wrong...  He loves ‘em, but he’s gonna be all about the trapeze.”

This week had given Sheridan a new insight into the man she’d married and his skills as a parent.  Prior to this trip, she had never spent more than a couple of days together with him and his children, but after day three, things got real. 

Jon loved his kids without reservation.  That was obvious to see, and Tony was almost as bad.  Jon loved to give the boys not necessarily things, but experiences.  It was almost to the point of being overindulgent, but he somehow knew when he approached that line, because he would then rein them in with an iron fist.  Not only was he raising children, he was raising good, decent human beings that helped with chores around the house and thought of someone else besides themselves.

There was no doubt in her mind that she could raise her babies by herself if she had to.  But she was very glad that he would be the one doing it with her – even if he would be away for long periods of time during tours. 

Briefly, she wondered what that was going to be like.  She hadn’t had to deal with an absentee husband for more than a few hours at a time as of yet.  July would give her a taste of life without him, she supposed, seeing as he had several shows scheduled.  Sheridan had no reason to believe she wouldn’t be fine, but it was going to be different, she was sure.

Alone in that big house by myself.

“Dad!”  After practically leaping from the white Camaro, Jon’s youngest skidded to a stop in front of him while his brothers brought up the rear at a more leisurely pace.  Tony had stayed behind to put the top up on the car.  “Did you see?  They have a trapeze school!  It says ‘The Trapeze School of New York’.  Can I go there when we get back?  After I go here?”

“You owe me,” Jon gloated at her with a smug smile.

“Technically, I didn’t bet you,” she reminded her spouse archly.  “But, despite that, I’m sure I’ll find a satisfactory way to work off any debt you feel is owed to you.”

“Don’t start,” was all that he muttered under his breath before addressing the child that was close to exploding with energy.  “As for you...  Why don’t we make sure you don’t throw up all over the pier before we jerk you out of Poly Prep for a career with the Flying Wallendas?”

Romeo’s face screwed up in a most unpleasant way.  “The flying who?”

Sheridan found herself choking back a giggle as Jon huffed and pulled the ever-present black cap down over his forehead.  “Nevermind.  Let’s go see about flying.”

By that point, Jesse, Jake and Tony had fallen in with them and the group moved as a single unit past Bubba Gump’s and onto the pier. 

“What’s he pissed about?” her brother-in-law quietly inquired at her shoulder.

She shot a conspiratorial smile to the man who’d gone from being a no more than a name occasionally mentioned by Jon’s family to someone she considered a friend.  It was really too bad she didn’t have any single friends to set him up with.  He’d make some lucky girl a great husband. 

“Romeo doesn’t know who the Flying Wallendas are.”

“Ah,” the darkest of the elder Bongiovi brothers intoned with understanding.  “The ‘old’ card was thrown in his face.  He likes to think of himself as timeless and classic, but the kids didn’t get the memo.”

“And ‘he’ can hear you.  Shut up.”

Sheridan leaned into him, laughing without remorse as the boys’ enthusiasm had them going ahead.  Even Jesse was staring with interest into the distance.  “You’re cute when you’re grumpy.  You know that?”

“You probably spend your entire life thinking he’s friggin’ adorable then,” Tony snorted.  “He’s always grumpy.”

That observation earned him a stink eye that cut through tinted, polarized lenses in a single glare.  “Now I remember why you and I live on opposite coasts.”

“Yet you insist upon dragging my ass around the globe with you.  Go figure.”

She suddenly hoped that one of their babies was a girl.  There was no doubt that she adored all of these Bongiovi ‘boys’, but sometimes being the only female in a rowdy group of guys was tiring.  Some extra softness and femininity would be much welcome from time to time.

“I think I’m going to stick my head in that little shop while you guys fly.  Okay?” 

The shop was nothing more than a kitschy little hole-in-the-wall full of souvenirs, t-shirts, hats and sunglasses, but it grabbed her attention anyway.  It might be nice to do a little shopping.  Maybe she could find Jon a new hat so that he could retire the one he was wearing. 

Her husband gave the place no more than a cursory glance before his attention reverted back to his sons, who were already accosting the attendant at the trapeze school.  “Yeah, baby.  Plant yourself on a bench someplace and rest afterward.  We’ll find you when we’re finished.”

After a quick kiss, the guys were gone and she was left by herself for a bit of girl time.

Shopping wasn’t her greatest passion.  Far from it, really.  She preferred engaging her mind or her senses to opening her wallet.  That’s why she’d indulged in a selfish moment before they left home. 

With Jon’s encouragement, she had made arrangements to take part of the at-home gym that he’d said was bigger than he needed, and make a small aromatherapy workshop.  Not quite as big as the spare bedroom she’d used in her old apartment, it was still sufficient space for the worktable and apothecary cabinet. 

Since they didn’t have any ‘staff’ at the house as of yet, Jeri was graciously overseeing the work that was to be completed by the time they returned from this trip. 

Sheridan was eager to get back and see the finished product, because she desperately needed to conjure up something that would keep her stretch marks to a minimum and still soothe both her and the babies.  It had been so long since she’d experimented in her ‘lab’ that she was itching to delve into the assortment of scents and make something new.

Flipping through a rack of tees in search of something that might suffice as a nightshirt and not be constrictive against her growing bump, Sheridan’s fingers froze. 

The message was scrawled in hot pink on the front of a white shirt and was ordinarily not her thing.  At all.  She didn’t wear logo or message shirts, even if she thought they were cute.  That just wasn’t her style, but this one hit a little too close to home for her to pass by.  She would wear this one – for Jon and Jon alone.

With a secret grin, she folded it over her arm so that none of the other shoppers could catch a glimpse of her selection, and moved to the wall of hats.  Finding something nondescript that she thought Jon might like, she impulsively picked up a Harley one for Tony, since that seemed to be his t-shirt logo of preference. 

Of course, that now meant she needed to find the boys something, too, so she backtracked to the shirts.  Satisfied with the choices of distressed Route 66 shirts, she chose them in varying colors for her stepsons – olive green for Romeo, navy for Jake and brown for Jesse. 

Walking out of the shop with an oversized bag of Santa Monica pier merchandise was a very touristy thing to do, but all the added items meant that her shirt hadn’t garnered any undue attention.  A small price to pay, she thought.  Depending on Jon’s reaction to said shirt, she likely wouldn’t regret hefting a bag twice that size out of the shop. 

She guided her footsteps in the general direction of the trapeze school, looking for a vacant bench along the way.  It seemed as though Spring Break was in full swing this midday, as teens and college students alike were milling about.  There was a bench just freeing up and was in the process of swooping in to claim it for herself when something else caught her eye.

MaDaME ZizsKa KnoWs aLL

The fortune teller was still working the pier.

Glancing toward the trapeze school, she thought she could see Romeo as the one in the harness, flying high above the pier.  With him still in the air, Sheridan had at least a few more minutes before they would come looking for.  She took a sharp turn to the right and directed her feet to the familiar canopy and the pier’s resident psychic.

She pushed her purse up onto her shoulder, switching the bag from her right hand to her left as she approached the makeshift business-front.  It brought back memories that seemed like they were from another life, not just four months ago.

“The good news is… that which you desire will be yours.  The bad news is that it will not be an easily travelled path.  Roadblocks and trials will come in many forms, testing you and your heart along the way, the most significant of which is that of an innocent child.  I can’t shake the overwhelming presence of a child in your life.”

That was the day she let her mind first entertain the thought that she might want more with Jon than a casual fling.  That she wanted him as a part of her life, if not forever, then at least for a long time.  Well, she’d gotten her wish and it hadn’t been an easily travelled path so far.  As for the child in her life, it was more like two – or six, counting her stepchildren. 

Today, however, the gypsy that provided that prophecy was nowhere in sight.  It was her grandmother, Madame Zizska, who was stationed behind the draped table, fastidiously crafting a piece of needlework.  As Sheridan approached, reluctant to disturb the woman, a set of razor-sharp brown eyes met hers over the top of Zizska’s reading glasses.  The look seared beyond Sheridan’s eyes, almost stealing her breath with its intensity.

“Good day.”  The needlework was set aside and the diminutive gypsy put her glasses with it, rising to greet her potential customer.  Her waist-length salt and pepper hair was fastened into a single braid that trailed forward over her shoulder, much as her granddaughter’s had on that day in December.

“Madame,” Sheridan greeted with a slight smile and an incline of her chin.  “I was here a few months ago-“

The woman’s bony sliced through the air dismissing the remainder of her sentence.  “I remember you.  I have been waiting for you to come back.”

The quiet assertion took Sheridan by surprise.  How many people must walk this pier every day?  Why would this woman choose to remember her, much less be waiting for her return?

“That might have been a very long wait, seeing as I live on the East Coast.”

An inky, drawn-on eyebrow lifted as though she were speaking nothing more than nonsensical gibberish. “Yet you are here now.”

The point was irrefutable and the woman with her arms crossed over her flowing tunic knew it, so Sheridan had no choice but to concede, “Yes.  I suppose I am.”

“What is it which you seek today?”

“Your granddaughter, actually.  I was hoping to speak with her and let her know that I understand the predictions she made back then.  That they came true.”

The old woman shook her head sadly.  “Please understand that I intend no disrespect, but I do not believe that you could possibly understand.”

Of course she understood.  Why wouldn’t she?  The things she’d been told had happened just as young Zelda had indicated.  She was a smart woman.  She could see it quite plainly.

“And please understand that I, too, intend no disrespect, but how could you say that with any type of confidence?  It was your granddaughter who gave me the reading.  She was actually the one I was hoping to see today.”

Lips pursed contemplatively, Madame Zizska didn’t speak for a moment, apparently considering her thoughts before she voiced them.  “Zelda is not usually here, as she is a full-time college student.”

“Oh.”  At least Sheridan’s of perception weren’t completely off-base.  The girl may very well go to Harvard, as she’d first speculated.  “I’m sorry to have missed her.  Please give her my best and my thanks.”

She had pivoted almost a full one-hundred and eighty degrees, fully prepared to leave when the quietly lilting voice continued, “But she is on Spring Break this week.  She’s coming up the pier now, bringing my lunch.”

Reversing her pivot, Sheridan could see the preppy girl that she remembered approaching.  It only took a millisecond before she saw that Zelda recognized her, too.

“I brought your lunch, Grandmother,” she said quietly, all the while sweeping her eyes up and down Sheridan’s frame.  From the long-sleeved, scoop-neck top to the jean capris and sandals, the girls eyes danced over her with full recognition, coming to pause on the distended abdomen.

“Hello, Zelda.  I don’t know if you remember me...”

The braid that so closely resembled her grandmother’s bobbed along with her head.  “I do.  You had the grouchy boyfriend.”

“I did,” Sheridan laughed lightly.  “He’s now my grouchy husband.  I’m very glad to see you.  I’d like to speak with you for just a moment, if I may.”

The girl immediately became guarded, folding her arms at her waist.  “I don’t make the future, I just deliver what I see.  I’m sorry if you’re not happy with what’s happened, but that’s really not my fault.”

“I would never dream of blaming you for anything.”  Sheridan put her bags in one of the client chairs facing the table and frowned.  “I just wanted to tell you how accurate your reading was and that I understand it now.”

“You do?”  Zee didn’t look any more convinced than Madame Zizska had been.  “Because I still don’t understand it all.”

“Well...  I know that it hasn’t been an easily travelled path, and that friends have appeared as enemies for a time.  And the child that you sensed in my life – the one that belongs to my husband...”  She laid a palm across her belly.  “...is actually two.”

The young woman’s face contorted into a bewildered pucker.  “I never saw you carrying a child.  There is a child who is responsible for much of your turmoil, but it isn’t those babies.”  Her eyes flicked to a point somewhere over Sheridan’s right shoulder and she followed it up with a nod of her head.  “That’s the child I saw.  The man’s son.”

~ Keep an eye out for bonus posts on both Friday and Saturday this week!  :o)