Wood and Roses

The sweet smell of lavender filled the Mercer bathroom as Mercedes sighed, leaning back against the cushion at the head of the claw foot tub. Since arriving home, she had made clear warning to the boys that she was going to be taking up a generous amount of time in the small room and to make sure to use it before she got in there. Now, an hour later a peaceful sense of serenity enveloped her as she reclined against the bubbles and hot water, humming softly to Norah Jones as the blues singer’s voice filled the room. Reaching for the cold beer on the edge of the bathtub she took a small sip and smiled to herself. It had been far too long since she’d done this…and she made a note to herself to make it a weekly event.

“Come away with me…in the night…” She sang softly, returning the nearly empty bottle to it’s resting place and sinking further into the steaming water, dunking her head under and running her fingers through her hair. What a whirlwind week it had been…thoughts of Jack floated to the surface of her mind and despite the present situation, she smiled softly.

A rare giggle escaped her lips as she reflected on everything that had taken place, everything that was about to. How odd that now more than ever things were returning to how they used to be…yes, she and Jackie were fighting. However, this was a common occurrence and moreover, the two were once again in a place where no secrets were kept, no lies. She was filled with an overwhelming sense of hope in the fact that everything would turn out alright…they were here again, in this house with each other- all of them. And there was nothing that could stay wrong when the Mercers had each other to lean on.

Sitting up and brushing bubbles from her arms and hands, she reached for the beer once again and took the last sip, glancing wistfully at the empty bottle, then down at the ground where three more sat.

“Hmmm…” She murmured contently, resting an arm on either side of the tub and leaning back. With a tired sigh, she rose slowly from the warm depths of relaxation and reached for a towel that hung haphazardly on a hook bye the door. Wrapping it tightly around herself she shivered slightly, feeling the chill of the Detroit winter that always lingered in the house, and the feel of wet hair on her shoulders. Another towel was promptly wrapped around her head and tucked in at the back and she took the last step out of the tub.
Studying herself briefly in the mirror, Mercedes smiled. The green was still there in her eyes, and despite everything that had happened, it had yet to fade away again. Empty beer bottles in hand, she made her way down the hall, the stairs and finally into the kitchen, where they joined the case of empties bye the back door. She could hear Jack strumming away at his guitar in his room, door shut firmly to the people dwelling in the house. He was still sulking, she noted, an endearing smile playing at the corner of her mouth. Unfortunately for him, she still had all her belongings in that room and, welcomed or no, she was going to have to retrieve them. Bobby and Angel were asleep in their rooms and Mercedes glanced at the clock on the wall, surprised to find it was indeed two in the morning.

With a determined look set on her features, Mercedes made her way back up the stairs, pulling the towel from her hair in the process. As she came to a stop outside Jack’s bedroom door, she pushed the amused smile from her face and replaced it with a pure Mercedes Stuart take-no-shit expression.

Without bothering to knock on the door she entered, closing it quickly behind her and making her way to the beaten up duffle bag in the far corner of the room. The strumming stopped dead and silence filled the room. She didn’t bother glancing at Jack. Mer knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was glaring daggers contently into her back as she went for the bag of clothes. As Mercedes bent over to pull out a pair of pajama pants and a long sleeve shirt she chuckled quietly under her breath and glanced sideways over her shoulder.

“I know you didn’t expect me to walk around the house naked until you decided to stop being mad at me.” With on brow raised skeptically, she finally turned to face him, clothes in hand. Yup…there it was…the Jack glare, aimed head on at Mercedes Stuart. She crossed her arms pointedly over her chest and met his glare with a cool regard. “You’re just going to sit there and watch me get changed then?”

Jack shrugged, finally letting his eyes fall to the guitar in his hands as he picked up the tune he had previously been toying with. “My room.”

“Fine.” She shrugged, dropping the towel and pajamas on the floor, turning back around and bending over her bag again. “Damnit I always forget to pack panties…” She sighed in annoyance, pushing around various items in her bag and yielding nothing. “Ah well…guess I’ll go without till I can afford to go on a shopping spree…” It wasn’t meant as a seduction ploy or an attempt to turn Jack’s eye…Mer was simply comfortable enough around him that nudity no longer bothered her…and she had gotten into the habit of carrying conversations with herself at a very young age.

Heaving a tired sigh she reached for the soft material of her pajama pants and tugged them on impatiently, suddenly aware of how cold it in fact was in the small bedroom. Shirt followed suite and she once again reached for the towel, dabbing softly at her hair in an attempt to dry it out. She studied Jack as he played, knowing he had been watching her under lidded eyes the entire time she’d been changing, and smiled to herself. His focus however was once again returned to the guitar in his hands as he strummed determinedly on the strings.

“Something else you want?” His eyes came up to meet hers again in a challenge, as if to say: ‘Maybe you want to apologize to me again and see if I’ll forgive you this time? Or do you want to hold your breath for a week while I debate on whether I’ll take you back?’ Mercedes shrugged, eyes drifting up to the ceiling as she racked her brain for anything she might need or want before she left. Jack snorted, shaking his head.

“Umm…blankets?” She offered finally, still drying her hair. “The living room gets cold at night you might remember…”

“There.” He nodded at a heap of quilts, folded sloppily at the foot of the bed. “Take those.”

“You’re too kind.” She smiled sweetly, grabbing the entire pile and leaving the room before he heard the laughter that wanted to badly to escape her lips. She had forgotten how childish Jackie boy could be when he was angry. Then again…Mercedes toyed as she made her way down the stairs…two could play at that game.


- *****


Jack awoke the next morning to the sounds and smells of a Mercer Sunday breakfast. Bacon sizzling in the, chairs being pulled out, light banter between the life long friends as they sat down to eat. It smelled amazing, fresh coffee and bacon, pancakes, ham…why the hell hadn’t anybody woken him up? He shot out of bed, not bothering to pull on a shirt as he practically jogged down the stairs, wiping the sleep from his eyes and trying to shake the sleepy fog that usually followed him late into the afternoon.

When he rounded the corner and came into the kitchen, he jaw slackened slightly. Everyone was sitting down at the kitchen table, plates piled high with food, cups full of coffee, various sections of the news paper being dispersed and fought over. Bobby was sitting at the head of the table, smiling with brotherly affection at Mer as she finished placing another piece of ham on his plate.

“More bacon Jerry?” She practically had to shout above the sounds of Jeremiah’s girls fighting over pancake syrup as they sat at the small plastic set of table and chairs in the corner of the kitchen.

“He can get his own bacon.” Camille scolded lightly a warm smile gracing her features. She gestured towards the only empty chair left at the table. “Eat your breakfast before it gets cold.” Mercedes smiled back and held up her hands in resignation as she took her seat between Bobby at the head and Sophie. Finally, as she forked the last two pieces of bacon from a place in the middle of the table, Mercedes looked up.

“Good morning sunshine.” She smiled, head tilted to the side as she regarded Jack’s choice of clothing. “Boxers to Sunday breakfast? Very rocker chic.”

“Why didn’t anybody tell me we were-”

“Oh it was a last minute thing…I woke up this morning and realized I hadn’t even seen Jerry, Camille or the girls since I’ve been in town and seeing as it’s Sunday morning I figured breakfast would be nice.” Mercedes shrugged off-handedly, pouring herself a cup of coffee and reaching for the plate of toast. “You’re a bit late though Jackie, I’m sorry…I think there’s some Mickey Mouse pancakes left.” She gestured toward the chocolate chip pancakes in the shape of Mickey Mouse heads that sat on the children’s table. “

Jack couldn’t believe his ears…oh she was good. She was real good…Jack had forgotten what it was like to wage war on Mercedes Stuart, she was definitely a force to be reckoned with. He watched as Bobby hid a smirk behind a cup of coffee and as his eyes trailed over the faces at the kitchen table, he realized that the rest of the Mercer family were trying to do much the same thing. A forced cough, an intent stare at an article in the paper…and then his eyes met Mercedes. Twinkling green met cold blue-grey challengingly, as Mercedes plastered a sweet smile on her face.

“Oh dear…there doesn’t seem to be much room here at the grown up table…” She bit the bottom of her lip in the worst attempt at an apologetic stare Jack Mercer had seen in his life. “Girls!” She called across the kitchen as two small heads shot up from their food. “You wouldn’t mind making room for Uncle Jack would you?” A chorus of “no’s” escaped the small lips as they raced to make room, placing a purple plastic plate in the now open space and filling it with the last two pancakes.

Jack’s eyes met Mercedes in a pointed look that clearly told her “I know what you’re doing…and this means war.” They stayed like this for a silent minute, an epic battle waging between them. Finally Jack grudgingly turned and headed for the children’s table and took his seat, his knees nearly coming past his chin. “Thank you.” He muttered politely as he was poured a small pink cup of orange juice.