Chapter Thirteen #2
“Bailey, you the best fucking momma a child could ask for. I admire you so fucking much. Sometimes, I’d just watch you and marvel at how good you are with the kids.
I’d wonder how I got so fucking lucky to have you as my woman and the mother of my children.
You didn’t fail. You haven’t failed. Harley need to be checked and get back in line—”
Swiping at her cheeks, she shook her head. “She needs understanding. She needs guidance.”
“I know you stood ten toes down for her and she turned against you.”
Bailey nodded, sniffling.
“You did what all mommas do. You stood up for your child.”
“I miss Harley so much,” she said. “I miss our mother/daughter time.” She smiled through her tears. “I had an ally against the Banks men.”
Sticking his chest out in pride at the thought of his kids, Mort snickered.
“When club functions took you and the boys away, I had Harley. When you took the boys out for father/son time, I had Harley. When you and the boys spent time with the men in the family and their sons, I had Harley. Who do I have now?”
“You have me, Bailey. Now, always, and forever.”
“No, Lucas. I have a part of you. Like I had a part of Daddy. He loved me. Adored me. But the club came first. You love me. Adore me. But the club comes first. ”
“For the last two fucking years, your motherfucking office came first!”
“As if you fucking cared,” she bit out. “You were happy. It freed you to devote even more time to the club.”
Mort opened his mouth then snapped it shut before he said something he truly regretted. He drew in a deep breath and started over. “I offered to leave the fucking club if it would make you happy,” he reminded her.
She slammed her palms down on the table. “But then you would be unhappy. I don’t want that. I love you. I want you happy too. I just want Harley right. I want her back.”
“She not stepping foot in that fucking house until she learn some fucking respect. We let her back now and next she’ll try to kick my fucking ass.”
“It’s easy for you to make that decision because you’re satisfied.
You think nothing of ignoring me or not making love to me.
It doesn’t bother you that Harley isn’t there to talk to because the boys fawn all over you.
Just like Outlaw’s sons hang on his every word, Lou and Kaleb do the same with you. ”
“I did it with K-P too, Bailey.”
“You had a fuckhead for a father and a mother gone too soon. Our boys aren’t in that position.”
“I’m going to talk to them again.”
“It won’t do any good,” she said bitterly. “They are your sons.”
Mort didn’t need to ask what she meant. He already knew. Unfortunately, it was because of Meggie. It was because she’d gone through the fire first and she was still devastated. Prez’s marriage was still feeling the effect of his sons’ introduction into club life.
Bailey’s issue was slightly different, though. Lou and Kaleb’s attitude hadn’t changed too much. Hers had because of her miscarriages and Harley’s behavior.
“What you want me to say, Bailey?” Mort asked tiredly. “You don’t want me to leave the club. You don’t want to call Harley down and tell her she was so fucking wrong to not only fuck a dude but then try to pass off the kid she thought she had in her as another motherfucker’s.”
Bailey stiffened. “Go ahead throw it in my face that I was wrong and you were right about that little fuckhead.”
“You beating yourself up enough.” Mort glared at her. “Why fuck with your guilt?”
More tears filled her eyes and her lips trembled. “You’re enjoying my pain.”
“I’m not. I want to help you. You need to help me help you. Help me help us. I’m not excusing you making Harley think she was right in her unfairness and meanness. She turned into a entitled little cunt and you helped her to do it.”
Bailey’s mouth dropped open, and indignation marred her face. Mort was too outraged to care.
“You didn’t give me one fucking say in what Harley did.
Knowing she thought she might be pregnant mean knowing she fucked.
I’m waiting for the day that motherfucker turn eighteen.
” To prove his point, he looked at his watch.
“Five hundred seventy-one days, three hours, two minutes, and thirty-seven seconds.”
Her eyes widened.
“His cock going first,” he continued viciously. “If the motherfucker bleed to death before I cut his fucking fingers and hands off, it won’t be my fucking fault. He should’ve ate more liver to build up his blood.”
Uncertainty wrinkled her brow and she searched his face .
Mortician scowled. “I’m not fucking joking. Harley my baby girl and it’s fucking killing me what that motherfucker did to her.”
“He didn’t force her,” she said dully.
“Motherfucker would already be dead if he had.”
“ CJ forced her hand,” Bailey spat. “He ignored Harley. Turned against her and started dating other girls.”
Mortician hadn’t asked Bailey out to discuss teenage bullshit.
He’d wanted to talk about them, but Harley stood in the way.
She was clouding Bailey’s reason. Suddenly, Mort wished Bailey were pregnant.
It would give her something else to focus on other than Harley.
She couldn’t get it through her head that her approach to Harley’s behavior wasn’t right.
“Bailey, for the last motherfucking time, Harley turned CJ down . I didn’t appreciate the way he ignored her either in the days after his birthday party and I offered to talk to him.
Harley told me no, so I gave her pointers.
She decided to go off the deep fucking end because a motherfucking teacher assigned CJ and Molly to work together. ”
“He also went to Prom! In turn, that forced Harley to lie to us.”
“Bailey! Fuck! You have lost your motherfucking mind. CJ shouldn’t have had to sit out Homecoming because Harley ordered him not to go. That’s the past. This the present. You need to apologize to Meggie, CJ, and Prez.”
“Absolutely not! They don’t deserve it. I did nothing but protect my daughter.”
Mort deflated. As long as Bailey couldn’t admit she was wrong, he wasn’t interested in a reconciliation. “For whatever fucking reason, you been giving Harley right even though she wrong ninety-nine point nine-nine-nine-nine-nine—”
“Very funny. Round that off and you get one hundred. ”
“Your fucking words, not mine.”
“Harley was wrong in her treatment of me and you. The other times she was responding to unfairness.”
“I’m fucking done. We going round and round and reaching the same fucking conclusion. You sticking to Harley no matter what.”
“I’m a Mama Bear!”
“A blind Mama Bear, but a Mama Bear,” he grumbled.
“I’m so tired of your insults this evening. It’s been horrible enough. You waltz in here an hour and a half late. I decided to talk to Tee about that flirting heifer but he refused to fire her.”
“Bailey, Symphony need this goddamn job. I haven’t set foot in this motherfucker in weeks—”
“Since she left—”
“I wouldn’t have come tonight,” he continued, not dignifying her accusation with a response.
“ You picked this motherfucker! I wanted to take you to Portland. Somewhere other than J’s.
If you would’ve been on fucking time, I wouldn’t have even been near the fucking club when the goddamn alarm went off. ”
“I haven’t been feeling well, so I took a pregnancy test, and it came back negative.” She shrugged. “I decided to stay at the office until it was time to meet you, but I ended up with a massive headache. I even threw up. I wanted to spend time with you. Not just have you barely talk to me at home.”
“We go round and round about the same thing, baby. I want us to move forward. I want us to work through this, but I just can’t until you realize you were wrong.
I’ve taken too much bullshit from Harley and from you because of Harley these last few weeks.
If you don’t fucking see the error of your fucking ways, it’s going to happen over and over again. ”
“I see. ”
Perhaps, she did, but judging by her tone, she didn’t fucking like it.
“When you arrived, I was in the bathroom throwing up again.”
“Bailey—”
“It could be stress,” she acknowledged. “Neither Mama, my grandmother, Carissa, or Alexia is talking to me.”
“Because of Harley.”
His sisters-in-law were outraged at her behavior. After Harley’s fight with Roxanne, Carissa and Alexia probably jumped down Bailey’s throat. Not that it did any good. No one could get through to her and make her understand Harley needed a firmer hand.
“I feel so isolated.”
“Because of Harley.”
“Stop blaming her!” Bailey screeched. “She’s just a confused little girl.”
“She’s spoiled and immature,” Mort countered. “She listened to a motherfucker out of spite. A motherfucker who wanted Harley just to fuck with CJ and she was too fucking blind to see that.”
“Everything has to go back to that fucking asshole. The embodiment of entitled. Meggie flutters around her potato and thinks the sun rises and sets in him. He’s so arrogant.”
“What the fuck is Harley?”
“She’s ours . How dare you choose him over her?”
“I’m not choosing a motherfucker or his mama over you or Harley. I’m giving right where right fucking belong.”
“CJ—”
Mortician slammed his fist against the table.
“Shut the fuck up, Bailey,” he roared, fed up.
“We either talking about our marriage or we can leave right now. I’m sick of Harley and I’m sick of CJ and Meggie.
They innocent. Harley not. You disagree.
We agreeing to not see eye to eye. We working on us.
I don’t want to hear about another motherfucking thing.
Especially Harley. She’s lost her motherfucking mind.
You happy or unhappy with her behavior? You want to handle it, then handle it.
What you not doing is throwing innocent people, our family and friends, under the fucking bus.
Fuck Harley. Fuck Nardo. He got a limited amount of time left.
His daddy too. I’m fucking him up. His cum made that motherfucker. He got to pay.”
Bailey slid out from the booth. “I thought this would be a nice reminder of our family,” she yelled.
“I got a card in today’s mail inviting me back and then a prerecorded phone call with new menu items. The minute I saw Symphony I should’ve turned around and walked out. It foretold the rest of the evening.”
Mort stood, exhausted. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Symphony walk through the door that led to the kitchen.
“Let me settle the bill, Bailey. I’ll walk you to your car and follow you home.”
He expected pushback, but she merely nodded and turned her head.
The first song from the jukebox that penetrated Mortician’s brain started to play.
Love and Happiness by Al Green.