Trial By Fire - Bouncing Back, Book 1

Twenty-Four

The doorbell rang just as Thomas got Kennedy settled in bed before leaving her care to Memphis. Running to answer it, he pulled open the door only to see his mother waiting patiently on the stoop. "Maman?"

I came to meet Memphis’s woman,” she murmured, following him inside.

Thomas winced. He wasn’t expecting his mother to visit right after he’d told her about Kennedy and the baby. Yet, he couldn’t find it in his heart to turn her away. “She’s resting.”

The woman shrugged, pulling out her phone. "Est-ce elle?”

“Oui, Maman," Thomas replied. His heart sank as she asked if the girl in the picture was the one he was talking about. He didn’t really want his family to get too close to her after the way they treated him and Memphis. “The last time I heard from Father was eight years ago.”

Her excitement was filling the room, “Will the two be getting married?"

"She and Memphis are planning on it before she starts to show. So, you were the woman she bought the drink for at the mall today. What did you think?" Thomas asked, pouring his mother a glass of water. He watched as she sat down at the kitchen table.

She nodded, "Oh, oui. C'était une chérie! It is nice to know that my grandson is a responsible child."

"Memphis is a good boy, Maman," Thomas told her. “And Kennedy is only a sweetheart when she wants to be.”

As a greying brow rose over one eye, a small smirk graced the woman’s lips. "What will she be doing for school?"

"She’s going for a mechanics course, her choice," he said.

"Ah, une femme bonne et audacieuse! Thomas, is she really okay having a Black man's baby? Do not get me wrong, but she looks just like Melody Marshall. That poor child’s father was an old-school Irish man with a very racist outlook. The bastard tossed her out without a thought, and we never heard from her again," his mother muttered softly.

His eyes narrowed, “Wait, Mel Marshall, my childhood babysitter? I know this might be weird, but that’s Kennedy and Temperance’s mother."

Listening to the front door open a second time, he waiting until his father and older brother walked in. Shaking his head, Thomas groaned. Where there was Darren, there was trouble, and he didn’t want to put up with the i***t at all.

"What is this I hear about Memphis getting a white girl pregnant, Thomas," his father snarled.

Thomas glanced at the darkened hall when he noticed movement in the shadows. Locking eyes with his son, he nodded discreetly to let the young man know he needed intervention.

Memphis gleefully took the opening. Leaning leisurely against the door frame, he cleared his throat. "Dad, Kennedy's awake. I got her to take her meds, but I told her to rest in bed for a bit. Did you need any help around the house before we leave?" His grandfather turned to him with a glare, "Why couldn't you find a nice Black woman to impregnate? There’s plenty of them around, boy."

Squaring his shoulders, the young man seethed angrily, "Alright, stop right there. I'm not putting up with this s**t, Grand-Pere. You and the rest of the family do not get a say after you, in your infinite stupidity, dropped me and Dad from your life when I was ten. You don’t get to walk into my house and start being a d**k just because you don’t like my choices. You want to f**k around and find out, you know where the door is. Try not to let it hit you where the good Lord split you."

"This child obviously wasn’t raised right, Father," Darren taunted.

Cutting a glare to his uncle, Memphis said, "Why only now, when Dad and I no longer need your help, are you sticking your nose in our lives? You threw us away, not the other way around."

Their mother gasped, "Did you two come here to nag Thomas’s boy for his choix des femmes? If so, then leave. Such a sweet child, does not need your cruelty."

"Marigold!" Paling, Gavin grabbed his wife’s hand gently, "What will people say? We are Slade’s! One of the richest, pureblood Black families in Quebec."

"Thomas, are you sure you’re related to them, cause the hostility in the air is pretty freaking thick. I can understand now why you’re so hard on Memphis. Your male relatives are walking disasters," Kennedy's voice cut sharply through the conversation. Turning to the stove, Thomas did his damnedest not to laugh as he busied himself with the kettle.

Memphis turned to her, scowling, "What are you doing out of bed, babe?"

"I heard a commotion," she shrugged. “Figured I’d come see how many graves I need to dig later.”

Darren looked at the girl, his eyes darkening. "I don't like your attitude."

"Call 1-8-wah-wah-wah,” she retorted. The front door slammed before another man walked into the kitchen. "That’s not a revolving door, you know. Also, it’s common curtesy to knock or ring the bell before entering another person’s house uninvited."

"Kenni, allow me to introduce you to my mother, Marigold. The other three are my father, Gavin, my brother Darren, and my nephew, Richard." Thomas’s voice was filled with annoyance, but she knew it wasn’t directed at her. Knowing her the way he did, Thomas knew that she was eventually going to have fun with them.

Ricky gave the young woman a lecherous look, his eyes wandering the length of her body. Suddenly, he jolted backward, his hand flying to his jaw. Blood trickled from his lip, but no one other than Thomas and Memphis knew Kennedy had moved.

Her moves were fluid, strong, and precise. "My eyes are in my head, sale porc.”

"I demand that she apologize to my son," Darren hissed crossly.

Stepping up to his uncle, Memphis snarled, "Are you f*****g kidding me? He’s damn lucky I don’t hold him down for her to gouge his eyes out with an ice cream scoop.”

Kennedy glanced at the wall clock. "Memphis, baby, we gotta bounce before my strength leaves me again. I gotta get to church."

Thomas looked at the clock and nodded, "Ride safe, guys."

As she pulled on the jacket that showed off her colours and the Chapter’s symbol, the family's eyes widened. His father, specifically, voiced his disgust of the revelation.

"What do you expect from a girl that was mafia-raised?" Thomas said, his voice filled with humour.

Staring at his brother as though the man had sprouted another head, Darren fumbled for something to say.

Marigold let out a breath. “Tell me, Thomas, were those the Scorpion colours?"

"She's their owner," Thomas replied.

Ricky scoffed, "They don't mind being led by a girl?"

"I've seen that girl leave men three times her size crying for their mommies on the floor when she was thirteen. Against her, you’d be burger meat," Thomas warned. He narrowed his eyes when his nephew scoffed again. "I’ve watched her bounce back from s**t you would never survive, Rick. If you think for a moment that my daughter-in-law is going down without a fight, you're dead wrong. Yes, she's got an attitude, and yes, she's brazenly unfiltered, but that's exactly why Memphis loves her. If the rest of the family doesn't want to respect her, the door is there. Don't let it hit you on the way out."

"How do you even know that the kid is Memphis’s? She could have slept with half the damn gang for all you know." Darren replied angrily.

Their mother got to her feet, her eyes filled with tears of frustration as she glared at her older son. "I am not going to stand idly by and watch you make a fool of yourself when two eighteen-year-olds have more get up and go than your almost thirty-year-old son. She has plans that do not include being a proper little housewife living off her man's income."

Nodding in agreement with his mother’s declaration, Thomas added, "I watched her grow up, and I wouldn't trade her kind of loyalty for anything. Memphis is an adult now, and he’s making adult choices. He doesn’t need your negativity, and neither do my future daughter and grandchild."

He grinned wide as Declan walked into the room. Holding a large envelope in his hands, the auburn-haired man smiled warmly. "Hey, Thom, is my sister here?"

Thomas shook his head, "Great! A guest who’s actually welcomed. You just missed her."

The man laughed, "Can you let her know that her trust fund has been unlocked?"

Confused, Thomas took the envelope. "What do you mean? What trust fund?"

"I’m just the messenger. If you want answers, call my wife because I have no idea what’s going on." Declan replied. “Temperance handled the bank and the lawyer visits on her own while I was working, but she sent me over with this for Kennedy. Melody fell sick with a stomach bug, and we don’t want the kids passing it on to their Auntie Kenni.”

Laughing, Thomas shook his head as he rolled his eyes. “They’re working on the wedding plans.”

Declan chuckled, “Keep in mind she likes simply elegant, not flashy. Pant-suits over dresses, and black and blue with a splash of colour integrated here and there.”

“Memphis got a handle on it already, so I took a step back to let them do it on their own. I’m only here for advice and support,” Thomas explained.

Once Declan was gone, Darren turned back to his brother, his face full of confusion. "What was all that about?"

"It’s a need-to-know situation, and you don’t need to know." Thomas told him sharply as he moved to take the kettle off the stove.