Don't Wanna Try
Chapter 28
Hours later, Vanessa went to the bathroom to splash her face. She tried to smile—Marshall was likely to already be on his way.
Her family had rehashed many of the past events, cleared the air somewhat, but she didn’t feel as if they’d settled much of anything. She had had enough of trying to convince her mother that her husband was using them and cheating her in the process.
She had listened to her brother and decided to try and be pleasant, instead of stirring up old memories. They still argued, but Vanessa did her best to keep her animosity towards her father and her impatience with her mother, subtle and subdued.
“I hope your guest gets here soon, dinner’s almost ready.”
“They’ll be here,” she assured her mother, who was frantically trying to make herself presentable. “You look fine.”
“I just…don’t know who it is that you invited! I mean, I wouldn’t want them to think that your mother can’t comb her hair!”
“Mom, really! They’re not going to care.”
“I really think you oughta’ tell us more about this mystery guest.”
“It’s a surprise, hence the mystery!”
Her heart leapt as the doorbell rang.
“No, Mom, let Jon get it,” Vanessa suggested.
“Oh my god!” he yelled as soon as he’d peered through the window to check for who it was. Hurriedly, he rushed to open the door. “Eminem!”
Marshall laughed at the boy’s enthusiasm. It was always crazy to meet a fan on a very real, very personal basis—they made him feel like god.
“Hey,” he greeted.
Vanessa got up from the couch to welcome him. “Hey Marshall. Right on time.”
“I promised,” he reminded her.
She smiled. “This is my brother, Jonathan.”
“Jon,” her brother corrected.
“Hey Jon. I hear you’re a big fan?”
“Oh, yeah!”
He chuckled. “I got some stuff for you.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Hold up, it’s in the limo. I’ll be right back.”
Upon return, Marshall unloaded a duffel bag full of paraphernalia of Eminem-centric things.
“Shit, all this for me?” he gaped.
“Jon, watch your language!” his mother scolded.
“Mom, this is Marshall Mathers—or Eminem. The guy I’m working for, remember?”
“Oh, yes, honey, I think I remember. Hello, how are you?”
“Good, thanks. Yourself?” he replied politely.
“Wonderful now that my baby’s home. Excuse me, I have to check on dinner.”
Marshall shot Vanessa a questioning look.
“Home for a few hours, at least,” Vanessa amended.
She welcomed him into her arms when he approached her and kissed her soundly. “I missed you today,” he admitted.
With a slight blush, she nodded in agreement. “You’re growing on me, Mr. Mathers,” she teased.
“Damn, I do have a certain charm, huh?”
“Oh, yeah, with that fowl mouth, most definitely.”
He grinned smugly. “You like the shit, Jon?”
“Oh, man, wait 'til I show my friends. This stuff’s awesome. Thanks!”
“No prob.”
“You didn’t have to bring anything,” she whispered. “That wasn’t why I wanted you here. Just meeting you would have been plenty enough for him…”
“It’s just stuff, Vanessa. It’s easy to get, and now he’ll have something to show off. I mean, shit, some of that’s worth something as long as my name’s attached to it!”
“I really appreciate it.”
“You wanna show me how appreciative you are later?” he quirked an eyebrow.
“Maybe,” she replied coquettishly.
They sat down at the dining room table; Marshall glanced at the fading wallpaper and the missing bulbs from the chandelier. It reminded him of his own roots. Only, he realized, this home wasn’t her beginning, it was her eventual undoing.
He also observed her mother and brother—he could tell that her brother was growing up well and would be a decent man. Marshall was still undecided about her mother; he was partially biased by the fiasco from seven years ago, but he tried to judge her on what he was seeing.
“Eminem—” Jon started.
“Marshall, yo.”
“Okay,” he nodded, a little embarrassed. “How do you like being famous?”
“Like everything else, it has its ups and downs. Sometimes it’s chill, but then sometimes, I’m annoyed that I can’t just walk down the block to 7-11; I gotta get draped with bodyguards or wear a disguise.”
“Oh, wow. How come you’re here in NY?”
“Business. I had to go to a few benefits and an award show.”
“Did ya win anything?” Jon asked excitedly.
Marshall laughed. “Sure did. I won two, actually.”
“Which ones?”
“Best theme song for a movie and best musician in a movie.”
“Oh, wow, you deserve them, though!”
“I think I saw 8 Mile like, a thousand times…”
“A devoted fan,” Vanessa teased.
Her brother blushed.
“So, Marshall, are you and my daughter together?” her mother asked bluntly.
Vanessa nearly choked. “Mother,” she warned.
“Yes, we are, Mrs. Wilson.”
“Whoa!” Jon said in shock.
“It’s good to know that the tabloids weren’t lying when I saw your faces plastered all over the magazine racks at the grocery store.”
“We hadn’t realized we would be the hot topic of the media,” Marshal replied smoothly.
“Vanessa, Jon, would you please go and get dessert from the fridge?”
“Uh, I think—”
“Go,” Marshall urged, although, he inwardly questioned his decision as her mother’s eyes bore into him.
“Treat my daughter right,” she said in a low, firm voice. “She was hurt once by the music business, and I’d hate for you to ruin what’s left of her passion for music. And I hope you aren’t just using her for sex because she’s worth more than that.”
“Excuse me?” Marshal spat, a little more than shocked.
“If your feelings for Vanessa are not genuine, I beg you to end the charade now before she gets too caught up in you.”
“Look, Mrs. Wilson, in all honesty…”
“Boy, I don’t need you to be honest with me. I need you to be honest with her.”
“I am,” he replied solemnly.
She merely nodded as her children came back into the dining room with the cake she made earlier.
Chapter 29Author: zines@aol.com
These stories are for entertainment purposes only. They are completely fictitious, and the authors mean no harm to EMINEM, his family, friends, or anyone else that may have been depicted as a 'real life' character. No money was made on the fiction here, either directly or indirectly, i.e. paid advertising. In other words - it's just a bunch of shit we wrote for fun. Please don't take it seriously.