iAm the Walking Wounded
It was late in the evening – 'late' from a business point of view. Shelby's last training session had ended nearly two hours ago. She had driven to Il Terrazzo Carmine, picked Sam up, and returned to the gym. The pair of old friend hit the door, already in the midst of a heated discussion.
"You owe me a favor, Puckett!"
"What favor?"
"Just trust me…"
"You're insane, you know that, Marx?"
Shelby laughed it off.
"That remains to be seen, but you owe me, Puckett…"
Sam Puckett would never be seen as someone who'd welch on a bet.
"Yeah, fine, whatever…"
It was then that she saw it. There, in the middle of the floor, only steps away from the door to the women's locker room, was a duffel bag. Sam knew that only could mean one thing, but her brain hadn't yet processed things out that far.
"What the...?"
"You yourself said you were the best…"
Shelby shot her friend a look, and raised her eyebrow.
TEN MINUTES LATER…
Sam stepped to the ring apron, holding the ropes open wide for Shelby.
"Age before beauty…"
Shelby snickered as her friend climbed through the ropes.
"You know, Sam, maybe this isn't such a good idea… You know, I don't wanna hurt you…"
Sam took it as an affront.
"Oh, yeah, right, Marx… My mama hit me harder…"
Shelby was now bouncing around in the corner opposite Sam. The juices were flowing again. This was all in good fun.
"Yo, Puckett?"
"Yeah?"
Sam was clearly annoyed. Her friend had an incredibly loud personality.
Shelby smirked at the blonde, coyly.
"You wanna ring the bell?"
Shelby Marx was such an ass.
Sam's eyes narrowed into slits. Her friend was enjoying this a bit too much. Sam spoke. Ice water was running through her veins.
"Ding, Ding…"
The two women stalked each other around the ring for a brief moment, talking trash to one another.
"This is insanely crazy, Shelby, you know that, right?"
"Keep talkin', blondie…"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah… just bring it on… Too bad I'll need to send you home to Wendy in pieces…"
The two friends were enjoying this. They were both creatures of ego – strong, Type A personalities.
They each took a swing, connecting within microseconds of one another. The fight would be called a draw.
FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, ON MERCER ISLAND…
Sam shuffled into the house a step slower than usual. Her head was spinning. She couldn't help but smile. She knew that Shelby Marx would be feeling it in the morning, too.
She stepped through the door, her hat pulled down at a low, odd angle. She came home to perhaps the worst possible situation – bright lights and bouncy, squealing little girls.
Sam stepped through the door to find their girls playing with the video camera. Carly had it on the table, waiting for Sam to come home. The camera, light included, was trained on Sam's face as she walked in.
"Mama! Mama!"
Sam just smiled.
"Hey kiddos…"
Little Melanie admired the old tweed British driving cap pulled low on Sam's head.
"Where'd you get the hat, Mama?"
"A friend gave it to me, Sweetheart..."
It was now Ashley's turn.
"Who punched you in the eye?"
Simultaneously, Carly let out a gasp and came running. A smile curled at the corners of Sam's mouth.
"Same friend…"
The twins looked at each other, trying to make sense of this. Why would one of Mama's friends punch her in the eye? Why would, after punching Mama in the eye, would her friend give her a present? Big people made no sense. All the little girls knew for sure was that it was their birthday tonight – they were turning five – and both of their parents were home to help them celebrate. They both felt a little bad that someone would punch Mama in the eye, but they both knew that Mama was a big person and could take care of herself. If Mama couldn't, their Mommy was there. If Mommy couldn't help, Mama could always talk to Auntie Shelby. She always knew what to do. The twins scampered over to Sam, offering her hugs and kisses. Sam felt as though all was right in the world.
Carly glared at her wife, handing her a can of root beer from the fridge. She was upset. Sam had the makings of quite a nice shiner, but Carly still didn't know why her partner insisted on being so damned stupid. She slid into the chair next to Sam at the kitchen table, looping her arm around Sam's shoulders, and kissed her on the cheek. She spoke quietly, so the twins wouldn't hear.
"You're in trouble, young lady…"
Sam shot her a pitiful, puppy dog look.
"Cupcake, Let me explain…"
This had to be good. Carly would let Mama explain this one. This was meant for 'Big People Alone Time'. Now, the only thing Carly was concerned with was calling Freddie and Melanie, celebrating with the kids, making sure everyone had cake and ice cream, and that everyone got off to their respective beds at a reasonable hour. Carly Puckett was most definitely a mom.
MEANWHILE, IN THE MARX HOUSEHOLD…
Wendy was livid, but she was careful not to raise her voice in front of Megan.
"What do you mean, Shelby?"
"I mean it the way it sounds, Wendy… It was just me and Sam horsing around…"
"…And yet you're going to have a black eye…"
Shelby conceded the point.
"Wendy…"
That was all that she truly needed to say. Wendy Marx realized that Sam Puckett cared for the both of them deeply, as did Carly. Wendy Marx loved her little patchwork family to death. She knew that Sam, of all people, would never hurt Shelby. She realized that nothing more needed to be said. Their redheaded little spitfire, Megan, had just climbed into Shelby's lap, right here at the kitchen table, tiny little ponytail bouncing the entire way.
"Mama! Mama! Mama!"
Shelby's eyes – even the swollen one – sparkled. She smiled at the little girl. She looked more and more like Wendy everyday.
"Gimme a pound, little one…"
Shelby held her fist up. The little girl touched her own to Shelby's. They both smiled.
"You been a good girl for Mommy?"
Megan thought for a second, reflecting on her day, her face screwed up in concentration.
"Ummm…. Yeah huh…"
Shelby and Wendy both laughed. The former prizefighter kissed the little girl on the forehead.
"Alright… Bed time. You go run and brush your teeth and then off to bed… Mommy and I will be in in a minute to tuck you in and read you a story, okay?"
The little girl complied. Shelby gave the little girl a playful swat on the backside as she skipped away. Wendy caught her partner's gaze, leaned in, and kissed Shelby gently on the cheek.
"Can you believe she's five already?"
Shelby just smiled. She was beyond happy. She had a successful business, Wendy, and their little girl. That was all that mattered. She kissed her partner lightly, not saying a word. Wendy flushed and spoke again.
"Just relax. I'm going to go tuck her in, then I'll be right back and get you some ice for that eye, Champ…"
Shelby chuckled. She loved how Wendy babied her. She was a former champion, the greatest in the world at what she did, but none of that mattered anymore. Now, all Shelby Marx wanted to be was a wife and mother. She let Wendy go deal with motherhood. She would simply sit here at the kitchen table, nursing her ginger ale and swollen eye, waiting for her beautiful redhead to return.
