“How lovely,” she said, pointing to them.
“Thank you. Would you like some tea?” Ava offered, having not completely forgotten how to be a polite hostess.
“That’d be wonderful,” Shannon said and smiled. She had light-green eyes and strawberry-blonde curls that bounced when she made the slightest movement. Her frame was small but sturdy, and her accent reminded Ava of Maura.
“So, are ye settlin’ in good?” Shannon asked. Ava almost laughed, but quickly remembered that this woman knew nothing of her former life. She set the water on to boil and walked back in the living room.
“I think so. It’s been an adjustment, to say the least.”
“We’ve been here a little over a year,” Shannon volunteered. “We didn’t want to move, it being farther away from Patrick’s work and all and the rents’ much more, but our last building flooded, so we had no choice. It isn’t very bad. There’s the talkative one with all the ailments across the way from you, and another new couple down the hall, and then there’s a really nice Italian family on the next floor. The wife taught me how to make pasta. She mostly showed me because I could hardly understan’ a word she said. There’s another family upstairs, but they keep to themselves and then that new couple.”
“Oh, those are our friends, Claire and Aryl and down the hall are Arianna and Caleb. We all came here together.”
“Really now? Did you live close by before, too?”
“Yes, we all lived within a block of each other.”
“In what building? Maybe I know of it?” Shannon asked.
“Well, we didn’t live in buildings. We lived over near, well, uptown.” Shannon’s eyes widened slightly as Ava handed her a steaming cup of tea and glanced back at the velvet drapes and stylish floor radio. She started to put the pieces together.
“I had a much different life a couple of weeks ago,” Ava offered.
“Was it the crash I read about in the paper?” Shannon asked intuitively. Ava nodded, her eyes automatically focusing on the fire. “I’m so sorry. I hear there are a lot of folks like that.” Ava nodded but couldn’t talk more about it, knowing she would break down. She felt her eyes sting and needed to change the subject.
“How old are your babies?” Ava asked quickly.
“Aislin is just three years last month, and Roan is three months. Aislin is the spittin’ image of her Da and just as energetic. She runs all day and then just drops for a nappie, out solid for two hours. And smart, too. And Roan is truly the most well-mannered baby that ever lived. He’s had a touch of colic but still doesn’t fuss much, and he already sleeps through the night,” Shannon said proudly. “And you?” she asked, although she hadn’t noticed any obvious signs of children.
“No, we don’t have any,” Ava said, again touching on a subject that made her eyes sting momentarily.
“Aye, newlyweds. That’s all the more tragic for what’s happened to ye,” Shannon said sympathetically.
“Oh, no, we’ve been married over three years.” Shannon suddenly looked uncomfortable and fidgeted with her teacup handle.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said solemnly.
“Sorry for what?”
“Well, I dint mean to be insensitive, talking of my own, when ye can’t.” It took Ava a few seconds to realize Shannon was under the impression she was unable to have children.
“Oh, no, it’s all right,” she said, smiling. “I’m fairly certain everything is in working order.”
“But then how have you managed to not have a babe for three years?” she asked, baffled. Then it came to her before Ava could find a dignified answer, and she blurted it out, “Ah. I know. Surely you were able to afford those fancy man covers. We couldn’t afford those even if the Church allowed it,” she said, casually taking a sip of tea. Ava turned three shades of red, played with the hem of her apron, and Shannon laughed.
“I’m so sorry, I dint mean to embarrass you. Sometimes I just spit out exactly what’s on me mind without thinkin’.” Ava smiled.
“Why don’t I cut us some of that bread?” She stepped quickly to the kitchen, eyes misting for the third time. Shannon’s accent and mannerisms made her miss Maura terribly. She looked up at the bread recipe that Maura had written in pen directly on the cracked, whitewashed cabinet door. She remembered what she had said that night after they all ate the chicken dinner. Since I won’t be round to find all the things ye tend to lose, Miss Ava, I’ll write it on here. Doubt you’ll be misplacing an entire kitchen cubby.
She looked down, horrified to see a bug scurrying close to the soda bread. She swiped it off the counter with a dishrag and tried to step on it discreetly, hoping Shannon wouldn’t notice. She cut the bread, buttered it, and then put the remaining loaf in the oven to be safe from insects until dinner. She carried it back to the couch where Shannon was eying the drapes and radio.
“That’s the loveliest radio I think I’ve ever seen,” she said, stepping behind the couch to admire it closer. “Can we listen?” she asked eagerly.
“Of course,” Ava said and smiled as Shannon turned it on and tuned the dial before Ava could do it for her. She found an Irish music program.
“My little radio doesn’t get good reception in this building, so I don’t get to listen as much since we moved here.” Shannon made her way back to the couch, not wanting to take her eyes off the oak box.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Ava began, trying to find proper words for her question. “If your church doesn’t allow the, the–”
“Man covers,” Shannon helped.
“Yes, the man covers, how on earth do you avoid it?” Shannon laughed.
“Well, now, we really haven’t avoided it, have we? Married five years with the two babes sleeping next door. And no, even if we could afford such things, tis against the church.” Ava waited for an answer to her original question for a reason. The small supply of protection they had brought with them two weeks ago was almost gone, and they were no longer able to afford to run to the druggist to buy more. Even if things continued in the infrequent pattern that they had, they would be gone by the end of the month.
“Well, we try, anyway, to pay attention to the calendar. We have to wait for the safe week.”
“The safe week?”
“Aye. There’s one week that tis safe with little worry of bringin’ a wee one. Hardest part is waitin’ for that week.”
“How do you know? When the safe week is, I mean?”
“Well, you count starting with yer– Do ye have a calendar? Tis easier to show ye.” Ava jumped up to get a calendar she had drawn on one of Arianna’s sheets of pink stationery.
“Okay,” Shannon said, scooting closer to Ava, holding the calendar and pointing. “Start with the first day of the curse. Say if that’s here.”
“Wait,” Ava interrupted, “Can I go get my friends? They need to know this.”
“Of course, I’ll wait here, you go run and get them.”
Arianna looked like she had just crawled out of bed, dark smudges under her eyes and matted black hair. She threw on a sweater and hat reluctantly and trudged behind Ava. Claire was in her paint-splattered smock, and her eyes were still red from a morning cry, but she put on a cheerful face. Ava briefly and tactfully explained what the impromptu ladies’ meeting was about.
“Sure, I’d love to,” she told Ava. “I’ve been worried about that myself. Three more strikes and we’re out.” She laughed as she pulled off her smock. Arianna stood numbly in the doorway, and Ava waited in the living room while she changed dresses and found a sweater. Ava looked over the mural above the fireplace. The lighthouse was beginning to take on a life of its own. Red and white stripes wrapped around the tall chimney with a large, lantern room above it, not yet colored. The light coming from the center was a most vivid yellow, which stretched out several inches from the pencil-sketched lamp source and illuminated a path in the face of the squall. Claire had been working on the rocks at the base of the lighthouse; jagged, menacing-
looking black and gray rocks, swallowed in places by crashing, white-tipped waves. The billows to the right of the lighthouse had fully taken shape and the clouds furthest out, jet black and ominous, swirled like those of a hurricane over the ocean, taking direct aim at the lighthouse.
“The cottage on the beach, I can’t get it right. I keep having to start over, so I decided to work on the storm for now. I’ll fill that in later.”
“It’s amazing, Claire,” Ava whispered in awe.
“Thank you. C’mon, let’s go meet your friend.”
Ava made introductions all round, quickly made more tea, and hurried to join the others in the living room. Arianna had pulled a chair from the table and sat close to the fire. The others sat on the couch with Shannon in the middle holding the homemade calendar. “Now, here’s how you do it.” She then detailed to the women how to keep track of female cycles to find the safe week and pointed out the least safe days of all. “It’s pretty easy to map out. Hard part is rollin’ over and goin’ to sleep when you should,” she said with a grin.
“Well, there’s always–” Arianna stopped abruptly. Her naive friends had had enough sexual education for one day, and she wasn’t in a flamboyant teaching mood anyway. This information was nothing new to her, and she found herself rather bored. She would save for another time revelations that her friends would consider shocking alternatives. Claire leaned forward with an elbow on her knee, her hand cradling her forehead.
“Seven days,” she said in frustration. “That’s all? Really?”
“Yes, outside the curse, that’s all, so make ‘em count,” she said out of the side of her mouth. “My question is how you girls got to this age without knowing of this?”
“My aunt,” Ava started, “would never speak of such things. And, of course, my cousins were of no help.”
“And my family, well, they bought anything they needed to prevent babies. They never talked about all this,” Claire added.
“I knew,” Arianna said flatly. “I have a book. I made Caleb buy it for me in Paris. It’s technically a banned book, but he managed to find me a copy. It was written by one of the most famous and successful madams in France. It has everything you’d ever need or want to know in it. With illustrations,” Arianna boasted. Ava and Claire looked at each other and back to Arianna with wide eyes. She laughed and got up to leave. “I'll see you all later. I’m tired. I think I’ll take a nap. It was nice to meet you, Shannon,” she called out as she closed the door behind her. Claire left a short time later, remembering bread she had left to rise in the oven, and Ava talked with Shannon until they heard her baby wailing.
“Well, nap-time’s over,” she announced, standing up. “Ava, please come over for lunch tomorrow. It would be so nice to have a visitor.”
“I’d love to,” Ava said with a smile.
∞∞∞
Ava paced the floor while waiting for Jonathan to get home. She was anxious to share with him details of Shannon’s visit and news of a letter from Jonathan’s parents as well. She kept glancing at the little, knobby clock by the bed and began to worry when he was nearly an hour late. Just as she was putting on her coat to look for him, the door flew open, and he backed in slowly, balancing the bottom and side of a mattress between his hands. Caleb was at the other end dipping it below the top of the door frame.
“Hey,” Jonathan said, giving Ava a quick peck as he passed by her on his way to the bedroom. They set the mattress down against the bedroom wall and he ripped the blankets and sheets from the old mattress. He and Caleb carried it out and leaned it against the side of the building.
“Good riddance,” Jonathan muttered as he walked away. He thanked Caleb for his help; Caleb nodded, and then hurried down the hall to his own door.
“What is this?” Ava asked when he came back in.
“It’s a mattress, Ava,” he said, peeling off his coat, gloves and hat.
“Well, I can see that,” she said. “What I meant was, where did you get it?” She walked over to the bed and bent over to put her nose to the fabric. “It smells new.”
“That’s because it is new. Tonight, we are going to sleep like babies,” he said blissfully.
“I thought we agreed not to spend money on a mattress. I was still working on stuffing the holes on the other one.”
“I don’t remember agreeing not to buy one.” He picked up a sheet, stood on the opposite side of the bed from Ava and shook it out. Once they had the new bed made, he fell back on it and sighed. “I don’t know that I’ll be able to get up in the morning.” He rolled his head toward her. She stood at the doorway with her arms crossed, glaring at him.
“Come here,” he said, patting the bed. “You gotta feel this.” She sat down reluctantly, still upset that he hadn't talked to her first. She had to admit it felt wonderful, and it wasn’t long before she gave in and lay beside him, their legs dangling over the side.
“Still angry?” he asked, rolling over toward her with that silly smile she loved. His short, black hair was somewhat tousled, and his evening stubble gave him a rugged look. She glanced at him and then at the ceiling. He looked utterly delicious.
“I just don’t know that we should have spent the money is all.”
“We have to get decent sleep, Ava. You have no idea how hard I work. I need to feel rested for a change. I’ll have two things now–two whole things, in this world to look forward to coming home to. You and this bed.” She sighed, unable to stay mad at him as he reached over her, pulling her by the waist onto her side to face him. “And if I’m really lucky, I’ll get to enjoy both of these things at the same time,” he said and grinned devilishly.
“If you’re lucky,” she replied casually.
“What?”
“I just don’t want you making promises you won’t keep.”
“It’s not that I don’t mean to, or want to honey, I’m just tired. And I get really angry at this life. This isn’t what I had planned for us.” He reached out and touched her face. “I’m doing the best that I can, Ava.”
She smiled weakly at him. “I know you are. We got a letter from your parents today,” she said, changing the subject.
“Really? How are they?”
“They’re good. They want to know if we could come for Christmas. They offered to buy train tickets for us.” Jonathan stiffened.
“If we did go, we’d buy our own tickets,” he said stubbornly, sitting up.
“Well, they would consider it a Christmas present, I’m sure, Jonathan.” She sat up beside him and put her hand on his leg. “It would be good to see them again.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be good for them to see us. Not like this. Besides, I can’t take any time off work.” He stood with a small grunt and reached for a sweater. “It’s cold in here. I’ll go stoke the fire. What’s for dinner? I’m starving.” A disappointed Ava walked past him out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to serve dinner.
“Stew. And the neighbor I met today brought over soda bread,” she said.
∞∞∞
Claire explained over dinner the delicate details of the calendar planning to Aryl.
“Seven days?” he repeated, looking up from his dinner plate. “Serious?”
She nodded soberly.
“I’m getting a second job.”
“You can’t get a second job. Then you’d never be here, so what would be the point?”
“That’s intolerable,” he scoffed.
“I’m not thrilled about it either.” Not seeing a solution, she decided to change the subject.
“Ava’s neighbor is really nice. We had a good visit today.”
“That’s nice. I wonder if her husband works down at the dock. Maybe I know him.”
“We didn’t talk too much about him. Mainly she just explained about the calendar and talked about her two babies.”
“Wait.” Aryl stopped eating. “The woman who taught you how to avoid babies has two babies? Are you sure her little plan is credible?”
“Well, she admitted that for it to work, you have to go to sleep when you’re supposed to go to sleep. If you don’t, Waa, Waa.”
“We just can’t have that right now, Claire.” His mind touched on the consequences of such an event, and he shuddered.
“I know.” She stood up to clear their plates. She wasn’t in a rush to start having children anyhow. She enjoyed this time with just the two of them. Wanting that to last a while longer, she was fine with postponing a baby.
Whenever the subject of a baby came up, however, Aryl found himself pulled into the same daydream. He pictured the possibilities; a tiny boy with brown eyes like his own or maybe a baby girl as beautiful as her mother, whose bright-blonde hair would triumph over his own dark curls. He imagined himself holding the baby in a grand nursery where no expense was spared to provide every luxury imaginable for mother and child. A set of oak shelves across the room holding stacks of folded linen, sleeping outfits and quilted blankets and hand woven baskets brimming with toys and rattles. A carousel music box spinning slowly, playing soothing music and an oak rocking chair sits next to a window facing a blooming, cherry blossom tree. A fresh, spring breeze causes colorful shapes hung on the window’s frame to sway, and cheerful animations painted on the walls of the room occasionally steal the baby’s attention. Then Aryl speaks softly, and the little eyes focus on his face again. The infant gives a toothless grin.
“What’s that smile for?” she asked. Aryl straightened in his chair, his smile fading along with the vision. He shook his head to imply it was for nothing and stood, digging some folded papers out of his back pocket.
“I need to run these down to Jon. I’ll be right back.”
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