Erin adored Ellen. She was the kind of mother the girl had always wished for, attentive, strict, and involved. She would have thrived in such an environment. Anyone would have really. She believed it was why the three Murphy children were so well adjusted.
Ellen was in the kitchen chopping vegetables at the massive butcher block counter preparing to make stew. Erin pulled out another cutting board and went to help. Some conversations were best done under the cover of carrots and onions.
"Mrs. Murphy, I wanted to thank you again for letting me stay with you. It means so much to me."
"You’re very welcome, dear. After all you’ve done for us, it was the least we could do."
"I wanted to ask you something. You see, I’ve never really had…rules before. I don’t want to upset anyone. Could you please tell me what the expectations are?"
"How sweet of you to ask. Yes, there are rules for anyone who lives with us, even if you’re eighteen. I hope they don’t seem too strict to you. First, you will have a curfew, of course. Sheridan has to be in by ten on school nights and midnight on weekends. I would appreciate it if you would do the same. There will be no staying out all night. Do you have a boyfriend, dear?"
"Yes."
"Well, he’s welcome to visit, but you will need to stay in the public parts of the house, with the door open at all times. There won’t be any goings-on here. All right?"
"You don’t need to worry. He’s very shy and I don’t think it’s likely he will want to visit."
"Well then, we need to know where you are at all times. If you have to stay late after school, or if you have an appointment, please write it on the calendar, along with a number where we can reach you."
"I have a cell phone. It’s off during school, but the rest of the time, I keep it with me. I’m easy to find."
"Good. I know this probably doesn’t apply, but it needs to be said anyway. There is to be no smoking and no drug use here. If you want a drink now and again, such as during family dinner or a cookout, the limit is one. You may not drink away from the house where you are unsupervised, as long as you are underage."
"That’s fair."
"Last, we attend mass every Sunday and have dinner together afterwards. If you are going to be part of this family, we will expect you to do both."
"No problem. I can live with those rules." Being part of this family was Erin’s long time dream. She would have agreed to a lot more.
"Good. I think it will be fine. Erin, would you be willing to…play for us now and again? You do such a nice job, and I really like listening to it."
"Of course. I would love to." She tipped the carrots into the pot and went over to the calendar to mark out her schedule of after school rehearsals, college interviews, and a note labeled doctor appointment that she put on Monday afternoon. She didn’t really have an appointment per se, but it was time to get a checkup, time to deal with the reality of her situation.
******
On Monday after school, Erin drove to The University of the Lakes, the small public institution that served their community. She parked outside the music department and hurried across the parking lot to get out of a bone-chilling drizzle that had appeared out of nowhere earlier in the day, and was lingering depressingly over the town. She headed down the covered outdoor walkway with its pebble studded concrete floor and ceiling, riddled with pigeons and the mess of their presence, even this late in the fall. The chilly birds made unhappy cooing noises as she passed them. Wrinkling her nose at the birdy aroma, she hurried to a small hallway of offices and knocked on the open doorway of room 212.
Dr. Abrams, who played with Erin in the symphony, looked up from his desk where he was melting the glue on a loosened clarinet key pad with a cigarette lighter. The department’s wounded instrument lay on his desk awaiting the operation. The little flame flicked out as the professor looked up.
"Well, well, well, Erin James," the music department chair said in the booming voice that more than matched the tuba he played, "What can I do for you today?"
"Hi, Dr. Abrams," she said softly, "I was wondering if you can tell me more about your music program here."
"Here? I’ve never heard that you wanted to go here. Didn’t you get into that conservatory?"
"I haven’t heard, yet. It’s awfully far away."
"Homebody, are you? Well what about State? That’s only a few hours’ drive away."
"I’m not sure I’m able to go anywhere. What about the program here? Do you have a double reed performance major?"
"We don’t have any performance majors. Only music education."
"And that would qualify me to do what? Teach high school band?"
"Actually, most people have to start with middle school."
"I don’t think I really want to be a school teacher. I would like to have some private students someday, but not a whole band program. And mostly I just want to play. Isn’t there any way this can work out?"
"I suppose… you could major in independent studies in music. That might work, but I have to tell you, we’re not well set up for it. Our woodwind lady isn’t a double reed expert. She’s more into clarinet and sax." He thought for a moment. "Listen, Erin. It would be really nice to have you here, but I don’t think it’s in your best interests."
"I understand that, but I may not have any other option." She sighed. "Okay, thanks, Dr. Abrams. I need to think about this and let you know."
"All right, Erin. Good luck."
She walked quickly back to her car, shaking her head. What a mess she had made of her life. A little frisson of nervous nausea hit her and she gagged once, swallowed hard, and turned the key in the ignition. It sputtered in protest of the inclement weather before agreeing to start, and she carefully pulled out of the parking space and headed to the family medical clinic for her checkup.
******
It was a good thing that Erin took care of her business early in the week. She had never seen such preparations as the Murphy family women put into Thanksgiving. At the James home, the holiday had been largely ignored, except for her dad sleeping in front of a football game. Not so for Sheridan and her mother. The preparation actually took about three days. Erin helped out too. It was fun to be included. She was grateful not be sick. In fact, she felt tired but otherwise fine.
Wednesday, after school, Erin dumped her backpack in the bedroom and headed down to the kitchen. Interesting noises had drawn her attention the moment she walked in the door, and she wanted to see what was happening today. Yesterday had been pie filling and homemade cranberry sauce, which could be made ahead and left to chill in the refrigerator. Today, it appeared, it would be dinner rolls. As Erin peeked shyly from the doorway, Ellen poured the oozing lump of yeast dough from the mixing bowl onto the heavily floured butcher block counter. It slurped loudly as it released from the metal, and then fell with a moist plop.
Erin took a step closer, fascinated. She had never seen bread before that didn’t come in a plastic package. Catching the movement in her peripheral vision, Ellen looked up.
"Erin. Hello, love. Come here." Ellen’s voice was welcoming. Erin approached cautiously.
"Have you ever kneaded bread before?"
"No," Erin admitted, "How do you do it?"
"Like this. Look." She folded the dough in half and pressed with the heel of her hand, stretching it across the counter. Then she turned the mass a quarter turn and repeated the process. After several revolutions, Ellen lifted the dough, spread more flour underneath, and flipped the lump over.
"Would you like to try it?"
"Oh, but what if I mess it up?"
"You can’t. All you do is fold and press and turn. It’s very simple, and the more you work on it, the better it gets, and the more relaxed you feel."
Erin nodded. She could use some relaxation. And Ellen was correct, the process was very simple. After only a few tries, she got the hang of it. Letting her mind wander, she pummeled and stretched the dough while Ellen turned to another bowl of
flour.
"What are you working on?" Erin asked.
"Pie crusts. They’re a little more complicated than bread, and nearly the opposite to make. If you overwork a pie crust, it will turn tough, so you have to blend in the butter gently, without melting it." She demonstrated, using a funny little tool with a handle and five tiny blunt blades, thin as wires, that wrapped around in a semicircle and cut the fat into the flour.
"Then you add just a little bit of icy cold water... but not the ice...like this." She stirred gently with a fork. "And then gather it up, wrap it, and chill it. Tomorrow we can fill it with the apple and pumpkin pie fillings we made last night and bake them, at 350° until they’re golden brown."
"Where did you learn to do all this, Mrs. Murphy?"
"From my mother."
"Did you teach it to Danny?"
"Yes, she normally helps me, but this year she wasn’t up to it. I think she’s a little under the weather."
"You might be right. She did seem awfully quiet in English today. Normally she answers all the questions." Erin grinned. "I’m very glad you’re teaching me to do this. It’s... fun." Actually, it was powerfully moving to Erin to be included in a Murphy tradition that had been passed from mother to daughter for untold generations. It made her feel, in some small way, like she was part of the family.
Very late that evening, Erin woke with a start. There was a strange sound, a kind of low moaning, coming from down the hallway. The bathroom light was on. Pulling on her slippers, Erin went to investigate.
Sheridan was sitting on the bathroom floor, hugging her knees and keening softly. There was a strong smell of vomit in the air.
"Danny, are you all right?"
"Noooo!" She wailed.
"What’s wrong, sweetie? Are you sick?"
"I’ve been sick for days. I can’t shake it. I can’t hide it anymore."
"Why are you trying to hide it? If you’re sick, tell your parents. Have them take you to the doctor."
"No. It’s not that. Look."
Sheridan held out a small object. Erin stared, aghast. It was the second pregnancy test, and it was showing a blue line even darker than Erin’s had been.
"Oh God, Danny, won’t this ever end? Please tell me you went to bed with someone."
"Of course not. No. It’s HIS."
"Oh shit." She hugged Sheridan tight.
"Why would God do this to me? It’s not fair!"
"You’re right, it’s not. Can I do anything?"
"Get me some water, please."
"Okay. I’ll be right back."
Erin headed down towards the kitchen, but midway there, she changed her mind. She headed to Sheridan’s parents’ bedroom.
"Roger, Ellen, please wake up."
"What is it Erin?"
"It’s Danny. She’s bad. She needs you."
"What’s wrong?"
"She’s upstairs in the bathroom. Please come."
Alarmed, they hurried to their daughter. Erin didn’t want to intrude, so she continued to the kitchen and got a glass of water, slowly. By the time she made it up there, it was clear that they knew what had happened. Both of them were holding their daughter. She set the water on the edge of the sink and went back to her room. Even though it was after midnight, she called Sean.
"Hello? Baby is that you?" His voice was thick with sleep, sexy. She loved talking to him when he first woke up.
"Yeah."
"What’s up?"
"I feel really sad and I just wanted to hear your voice. I’m sorry I woke you" She would tell him the rest in the morning.
"It’s okay honey. I feel a little sad too. Here’s this big empty bed and you’re not in it."
"I love you."
"I love you too. Go back to sleep okay?"
"Okay, good night."
In the morning, everyone was too distraught to do anything. Erin was glad that Mrs. Murphy had spent so much time explaining to her how the dinner would be made. She took it upon herself to complete the preparations. She didn’t think anyone in that family had much to be thankful for, but at least there could be dinner.
Sean arrived around ten. Erin met him outside and smuggled him quickly into his old room, before anyone could see them. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he held her gently for a moment.
"Something’s up, Erin. What’s going on?"
"Kiss me." He pressed his lips to her lingeringly. She clung to him, drawing strength from the warmth of his arms around her, from his mouth pressed sweetly to hers. Finally she ended the kiss and from the cradle of his embrace said sadly, "Danny’s pregnant. That asshole knocked her up."
"Oh my God. Do Mom and Dad know?"
"Yes. She found out last night. She’s really sick."
Sean struggled with his composure for a long moment. Finally he gritted out, "This just isn’t right. How can she have to suffer so much?"
"I don’t understand it. This, I get." She gestured towards her belly, "we did this to ourselves, but why Danny?"
"I don’t know. Damn it. I just don’t know."
He hugged Erin tight. His breathing was harsh and ragged.
"I have to get back to the food in a moment. I don’t want anything to burn. But please can you kiss me one more time? I hate pretending."
"Do you want to tell them? We can. It’s not going to be a secret much longer anyway."
"Yes, but not today. Today has been hard enough."
"You’re right. Come here, baby." He kissed her hard.
She slipped reluctantly out of his arms and went down to the kitchen.
Perhaps it wasn’t the best Thanksgiving dinner ever prepared at that house, but it was adequate, and everyone was grateful to Erin for her help. She had always been the kind of person for whom pain spurred action. It was one reason she was such a driven musician. Later that evening she played for them, hoping to distract everyone from their problems. It was beneficial to her as well. She was able to lose herself in her music for a few moments and forget. After the impromptu concert, Erin put her oboe away and joined the family in the den for a conference. She hadn’t wanted to intrude, but the Murphys insisted. Sean was sitting across the room. The urge to go to him and snuggle up was almost irresistible, but Erin restrained herself.
"Mom, Dad, I hope you’re not planning to cancel your shopping day tomorrow," Sheridan told her parents firmly. "Nothing is different from this time yesterday. I just know more. I know how much you both look forward to this. I want you to do it."
"That’s very sweet dear, but I hate to leave you."
"I won’t do anything drastic, I swear. I need time to process this, and I want to think without anyone hovering over me. I don’t know why this had to happen, but there’s no point dwelling on it. The thing is to move forward."
"Danny," Erin said softly, "I know how you feel about…abortion, but no one would blame you under these circumstances."
"I know. I’m considering. But I always said people should think about adoption too. I want to do what’s right, and I need time to think."
"Okay. You know, I don’t have anywhere to go tomorrow. I’ll stay here, if you want. I promise I won’t bother you, but at least if you…need someone, I’ll be in the house."
"That would make me feel a lot better, Erin," Ellen told her.
"I’ll come over too." Sean offered, "I’m not liking being in my apartment when my family is going through such a hard time."
He gave Erin a quick look. She understood what he was telling her. He was worried about his sister, but he was also worried about her ability to handle the burden of this family she had placed on herself. She would definitely need his support.
The Murphy parents reluctantly agreed not to postpone their Black Friday excursion. They would leave early, before five in the morning, and be gone all day. Erin lent them her cell phone so they could call periodically and check in. Sheridan complained that everyone was treating her like a baby, but when Erin hugged her, her eyes got very shiny and she didn
’t say anything else. Sean decided to spend the night at the house, sleeping in his brother Jason’s old room.
That night, Erin had a hard time relaxing. It wasn’t the sorrow over Sheridan’s pregnancy crisis. It was the knowledge that Sean, her beautiful perfect Sean, was sleeping on the other side of the wall. Her body was screaming at her to go to him. It had been a while since they had been together, and she really wanted to make love…now!
She tried to restrain herself, knowing that Sheridan’s parents didn’t want her having sex in their house. She didn’t want to abuse their hospitality, but she felt like she was on fire.
There was a soft squeak of bedsprings from the other side of the wall. A door opened softly. Erin’s breath caught. Maybe he was just going to the bathroom. It wouldn’t do to assume anything.
The handle on the bedroom door turned, and then he was there, only wearing a pair of black shorts, quietly closing the door, moving on silent feet across the carpet, climbing into the bed beside her, taking her in his arms.
"I love you, Erin," he breathed against her ear, "and I need you right now. How quiet can you be?"
"As quiet as I need to be, to have you with me."
His mouth came down on hers in an endless tender kiss while his fingers busily opened the buttons of her pajama top. Never releasing her mouth, he slid the garment from her shoulders and pressed her against him so her small breasts rubbed on his chest. Her hands slid inside the waistband of his shorts, lowering them so she could touch the silky skin of his lower back, and so his erection could press enticingly against her belly. She sighed with pleasure. Sex with Sean was one of the greatest joys in her life.
He ended the kiss and she protested softly, trying to cling to him. In the darkness, she saw the flash of his teeth as he grinned at her eagerness. He grasped the waistband of her pajama bottoms and she lifted her hips so he could pull them from her. She lay back on the bed, nude and spread out before him, her dark hair spilling over the pillows.
When the Music Ends (The Winter Rose Chronicles) Page 6