Have Mercy

by Siobhán Béabhar

  I turned to Caitlyn. "Smell?"

  "You can tell so much about a man by the way he smells. Surely you know that!" she retorted.

  Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. Thinking of a man's smell didn't strike me as particularly arousing at the moment. "Tell us about him, Albertine."

  The little wren sighed. A near lustful expression crossed her face. This little lady tickled me with pleasure. She took such enjoyment from simple things, and it was refreshing to see such innocence.

  "Are you a virgin, Albertine?" Caitlyn blurted out.

  "Caitlyn!" I glared at her. Now, I'm a rude person. I have a tendency to say what I mean and how I mean it, but I was appalled at Caitlyn's question. It wasn't any of her business if Albertine was a virgin.

  "What? Don't pretend like you don't want to know." Caitlyn sat back in her seat and smiled smugly.

  I looked at the little wren, expecting to see her dissolve into a fit of embarrassment and outrage. Instead, I was surprised to find Albertine looking back at Caitlyn with amused resignation.

  "You would be surprised how many times I have been asked that," Albertine said.

  "Really?" I asked out of curiosity. "Who would ask you that?"

  Albertine's lips puckered again. She rubbed her hands together and placed them on her lap. She grinned before saying, "Everyone, really. My students. Their parents. People I meet on the street."

  "Well, are you a virgin?" I asked. Caitlyn glanced at me with an affronted look. What could I say? I was curious.

  "Yes. I am still a virgin," she stated. She didn't fidget. Her eyes never wavered.

  "How do you manage?" Caitlyn scoffed.

  "You do not miss what you have never had," Albertine answered. She gave us a superior look when she said, "Sex isn't all there is to life, you know."

  "You've never had it. How would you know that?" Caitlyn returned.

  "I could go the rest of my life without sex," I interjected.

  Albertine smiled in agreement.

  Caitlyn scoffed. "I don't believe that, Mercy."

  I snorted. Needing to make an escape, I stood up from the table, grabbed our plates and set them in the sink. I had begun to wash the dishes when I heard Caitlyn ask, "When was the last time?"

  I was busy drying the dishes, not really considering the context of her question. "The last time for what?"

  "When was the last time you had sex?" she asked.

  The plate slipped from my hand and clattered in the sink. I could feel the shallowness of my breathing. My skin felt warm, and sweat beaded on my brow. I turned back to the table and saw Albertine and Caitlyn watching me, waiting for an answer.

  "A long time," I said.

  A mischievous look crossed Albertine's face. She was enjoying this. I wouldn't have thought a former Sister would take amusement in such a crude conversation.

  "I don't think this is appropriate," I dodged.

  "Oh, you didn't really mind when it was directed at me, Mercy," Albertine said, giving me a sly look.

  I considered them for a moment. I couldn't believe that I was going to admit it, but I was. "About thirteen years," I blurted out.

  Caitlyn's eyes bulged. Albertine looked smug. She turned to Caitlyn and said, "See, one can live without sex even if they have had it."

  "Ya can't be fecking serious!" said a voice from the door. Red strode through the kitchen, stopping in front of me. She grasped my face and said, "Why, darling? Why?"

  I stepped away from her. Returning to the table, I sat down next to Albertine. She took my hand into her grasp, giving me support through her contact. I wanted to laugh. She was being kind, but this wasn't exactly a morally superior position.

  "Moses was ill for a long time," I explained. "In the beginning I missed it, but then I just...well...stopped thinking about it."

  "You never considered finding a gentleman friend on the side?" Red asked.

  "Absolutely not," I retorted. "I made vows to that man. I wasn't going to break them. I loved him."

  Red was aghast. Her eyes widened, looking at me with pity. "What does love have to do with it? It's just sex."

  "No, it isn't. It's about commitment and loyalty," I said.

  Our gazes clashed. We stared at each other, failing to understand the other person's position.

  "You can separate love from sex; you realize that, right?" Red asked as she sat at the table. She threw an arm over the back of her chair and crossed her legs.

  Caitlyn looked between us as if watching a tennis match. Albertine still held my hand. She patted me, apparently fascinated by Red's perspective.

  "But it wouldn't be good sex without love," I countered.

  "Are you sure about that?" Red questioned. "You wouldn't know unless you've tried it. Was Moses the only man you have been with?"

  "Yes," I said.

  Red laughed. "I got a phone call from Admiral Craft. He wants to meet up with us later tonight." She sat back in her seat, mischief in her eyes, knowing the others were unaware of who he was to us.

  I smiled at Red, pretending this was a casual conversation. I didn't want either Caitlyn or Albertine to know about my new profession. Caitlyn was too tied to my memories of Moses. I didn't want to feel his judgment projected through her. Albertine, well, she was too innocent to learn about it.

  "Who else will be there?" I asked.

  "General Washington, of course." Red looked pleased. "Are you truly telling me that you wouldn't have sex with him?"

  "Oh, I'd rip his clothes off with my fucking teeth," I said. "But, I should tell you; I don't think I'm open to doing the sex thing." I gave her a meaningful look. I hoped she understood my silent message.

  Her eyebrows lifted, humor twinkling in her eyes. She placed her hand over mine and Albertine's. "We're going to change that, friend."

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  "Where are we supposed to meet them?" I asked Red. She stood, her back straight, removing the wrap from her shoulders. I slouched, my hand tapping against my thigh. Hell, I got on my tippy-toes, trying to look around the crowded interior of the restaurant.

  "Stop looking so Goddamned eager, Mercy," Red said through tightly drawn lips. She appeared at ease while my heart fluttered in my chest.

  "I'm not eager. I'm nervous. There is a difference."

  Red walked to the center of the dining room's entrance. I probably imagined it, but I thought the room went silent as she stood there, looking so damn gorgeous. Her beautiful red hair was flat-ironed. I didn't think it was a style appropriate for someone her age, but it perfectly suited her outfit. Her lean frame was wrapped in a fringed, asymmetrical black dress. The skirt barely covered her ass, but she didn't care, because it drew attention to her insanely long legs.

  I felt frumpy standing there in my new outfit. The white sheath dress was uncomplicated, but it lacked a certain pizazz. It fell to my knees, and covered every inch of my bosom. Red looked like a sex goddess and I looked like the mother of the bride.

  "Madams, if you will follow me," the host said. Grabbing two menus, he moved away from the host station. He lifted the menus, indicating our direction.

  He moved past Red and stepped into the dining room. She fell into step behind him. The swaying of her hips caused the fringe to move against her body. Heads swiveled, trying to catch a glimpse of her long legs as she sashayed across the room. It was a grand entrance for a grand lady.

  Me? I careened across the floor. I wobbled slightly as I passed a waiter carrying a tray of food. My hip bumped into the arm of a gentleman raising a glass of wine to his lips. Instead of apologizing, I galloped ahead, trying to keep up with Red's long strides.

  The host stopped at our table. "Gentleman, ladies," he said, pulling out Red's chair. In my haste, I pulled my own chair out and sat down unceremoniously. There was a scraping sound as I pulled my chair closer to the table.

  "That's what I like! A lady who knows her own mind," Craft said.

  I dipped my head. "Good evening, Admiral Craft. General Washing
ton," I said, smiling in welcome. I ignored Craft's assessment; instead, I focused on the General's steady gaze.

  "Good evening...Mrs. Higgins, isn't it?" the General responded, in an unaffected manner.

  Neither of the men was dressed in a military uniform this evening. Craft wore a black sport jacket with a crisp black shirt underneath. The General looked clean and wholesome in his high-necked, checkered brown sweater.

  I wanted to lick my tongue over his smooth, chocolate-colored skin. Yeah, I could live the rest of my life without sex. It didn't mean I wanted to.

  "Have we kept ye waiting long?" Red purred. The men watched as her lean fingers caressed the stem of her wine glass. Craft's eyes glinted with barely restrained lust. The General's eyes widened before he looked away, clearly shocked at such a blatantly sensual move.

  I envied her. She was at ease with her body, comfortable with her appeal. I knew that if I made a similar move, I would come off looking awkward and amateurish. I couldn't replicate what she had, so I decided to contrast her by playing the hard-to-get, prim matron.

  "You know that I would wait all night for you, Carol. You and Mercy, here," Craft said, sipping his water. "I hope you ladies don't mind, but we took the liberty of ordering dinner."

  "Thank you, Admiral Craft," I said. "I do not mind at all. I truly hope we didn't keep you both waiting too long."

  "To hell with the formalities, girl. Call me 'John,' and this old stick in the mud, well, you can call him 'Truman,'" Craft corrected.

  The General said nothing. Back erect, he lifted a slice of bread from the breadbasket and set it on his plate. I watched as he meticulously buttered it.

  He moved efficiently; his bites were methodical. I could sense that he was uncomfortable. I was uncomfortable, too. Couldn't he feel the attraction between us? Maybe we needed to learn a bit more about each other?

  He lifted his piece of bread and took a large bite. I waited as he chewed. Before he took another bite, I asked, "Are you from this area originally, Truman?"

  His hand with the bread was inches from his mouth. "No, I only moved here recently," he said before he took another bite. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

  I sat there, watching as he stuffed himself with bread. He didn't want to engage in conversation; that message was loud and clear. Oh well, sweetheart, I thought, that wasn't going to deter me.

  He moved his hand towards the breadbasket, but I swooped in and grabbed it before he could. Unfolding the napkin, I took a slice of bread and squeezed the crust for crispness. I poked at the white center and marveled at its buoyancy. Yummy carbs.

  "Where are you from originally?" I asked.

  He smiled, clearly knowing I had caught on to his game. He folded his hands together, waiting for me to relinquish the bread. I wasn't going to until he answered my question.

  "Truman's from Georgia," Craft cut in. He pointed to himself. "I'm from Portland, Oregon."

  "Portland is a lovely city. I used to go there for conferences," I said.

  "Really? They have conferences for hookers?" Craft asked with delight.

  I blinked rapidly. Red sighed loudly, swatting Craft on the arm. He laughed at my reaction.

  "No, John, Mercy used to be a teacher," Red said.

  Are hookers supposed to share their personal lives? I buttered the bread before cramming it into my mouth. I must have looked extremely inelegant with my cheeks bulging.

  The General grinned at me. "Do you think we can get some of that bread?"

  I took my time chewing on my piece. "No, it's mine now. All mine," I said as I picked another slice from the basket.

  "I think there's plenty to share," the General teased.

  "I really don't care," I sputtered. I beamed at him, and I was fairly certain that bread was stuck between my teeth.

  Both the General and Craft laughed. The mood at the table shifted, relaxing into a companionable conversation.

  "What did you teach?" the General asked. I guess learning that I was once respectable allowed him to feel comfortable with the situation. Maybe he had thought I was some old crack whore with no past.

  "I taught sixth grade history and geography." I folded the napkin of the breadbasket and placed it back in the center of the table.

  Craft snatched up the basket. He opened the napkin, laughed, and showed its empty contents to the General.

  "Say, as a geography teacher, would you teach your students about Ireland? The United Kingdom?" Red asked, her eyes narrowed.

  "Absolutely," I retorted. I knew why she asked. When we first met, I pretended not to know that Ireland and England were two separate countries. I knew the tension remained high between the Irish and the English. I blinked innocently at her.

  She leaned toward me and said, "Later, my love." She flashed a smile in the General's direction. He responded in kind.

  I dug my nails into her thigh. It was a silent message to the hussy: She had better not try anything with my new beau.

  She responded by nudging me with her elbow. I slapped her leg with the back of my hand before I placed it on top of the table. "I wonder what's taking the food so long. I'm hungry!"

  "Even after the bread?" the General asked, smiling.

  "Oh. Was that supposed to be filling?" I cooed. I had never been shy about my love for eating. I certainly wasn't going to hold back for this gentleman.

  "I have something that will fill you up," said Craft.

  Red snorted in laughter. She smacked Craft's shoulder. "Try to behave yourself, will ya?"

  The General watched me. I was gripping a butter knife, pondering if there were special criminal charges for stabbing military officers. My thumb grazed the jagged edge of the knife. I didn't think I could stab anyone with such a blunt edge. It would definitely need to be sharper.

  Our food arrived, pulling me from my homicidal thoughts. As the waiter placed our plates before us, the General said to John, "You should thank God that the food arrived when it did. Otherwise, I think you were a goner." He winked at me, smiling as he began to sprinkle pepper over his food.

  I looked at the food on the table. Before the General there was a huge cut of pork and a large helping of asparagus. There was even a small bowl with cinnamon apples beside his plate.

  Craft was buttering the large baked potato on his plate. Next to the potato were a huge rib eye steak and a portion of steamed broccoli.

  The waiter set dinner-sized salads before Red and me.

  "They brought us a salad course, but none for you guys?" I asked.

  "We already ate ours," the General responded. "We asked them to hold the main course until you ladies arrived."

  "Is this my main course?" I asked, lifting the edge of my bowl.

  The two men exchanged a glance. The General looked sheepish as he said, "We had a debate about that. He said that you two would want steaks. I said you'd probably want salads. I'm sorry. My wife was a salad eater."

  "Was she a vegetarian?" I asked.

  He smiled, shaking his head. "No, she wasn't."

  "Vegan?" I returned.

  "No, not that either. She ate meat, but typically for lunch or breakfast," he said.

  "Poor lady," I murmured.

  He grinned. "Why do you say that?"

  "You deprived her of meat," I retorted. Quickly, I grabbed my knife and pointed it in the Craft's direction, "I don't want to hear anything from you. Got it?"

  Craft threw his hands up in mock surrender. "What makes you think I was going to say anything?" he asked, looking innocent.

  "I know your kind." I poured the dressing over my salad, debating whether or not to order a true dinner. Something substantial. Dinner service seemed slow, so I decided against it. There was no telling how long it might take for them to bring out the food.

  "Can you pass me the pepper?" asked Red.

  My hand grazed the General's as we both reached out to grab the pepper. I pulled my hand away, flushing from the contact. My gaze dropped to my salad as I began to stab t
he lettuce leaves with my fork. I could feel the General's eyes fixed on my face.

  I peeked through my lashes at him and smiled.

  "Would you like some pork?" he asked.

  "Thatta boy." Craft guffawed and slammed his palm against the table. "I knew you had it in you."

  "Jesus, John!" the General exclaimed.

  "Get your mind out of the gutter," Red said as she ate her salad.

  Craft lifted his fork and pointed at each of us, "You lot are right there with me."

  "No, thank you, Truman. I'm fine with my salad," I said, addressing the original question.

  We ate our meals in silence. Red's left hand slid off the table and I suspected it rested on Craft's leg. Well, at least, I hoped it was his leg. I fought the compulsion to peek under the table. The General smiled at me. I wondered if we shared the same thought.

  The waiter returned to our table with a list of desserts. "Can I get you anything else?" he asked, refreshing our water glasses.

  "Chocolate cake. Please!" I pleaded.

  "I'll have the same," said the General. We shared a smile, the mood between us much easier than it had been when I first arrived.

  "I think that's enough for me. Bring me the check," Craft said.

  "I'll cover me and Mrs. Higgins," the General declared.

  "No, no. I got it," said Craft, waving away the General's offer. The General shook his head as if exasperated with his friend.

  I leaned towards the General. My hand brushed his thigh as I whispered, "Please call me Mercy."

  "Mercy. Mercy. I like that. It's rather unusual. What motivated your parents to name you Mercy?" he asked. He didn't recoil from my light touch. We were making swift progress.

  "I had three older sisters. My parents were praying that I was a boy. In fact, they refused to consider a girl's name because they were so adamant that I would be a boy. My mother said that when she saw that it was another girl, she exclaimed, 'Oh Mercy!' My father, on the other hand, said that Mother bitched and screamed so much the poor nurses were praying for mercy. I never did learn the truth."

  The waiter returned, placing a plate of chocolate cake before me. He placed a plate before the General then pulled a black book from his pocket. He set it down next to Craft. "Thank you for joining us this evening. I'll be back to pick up your check."