“Don’t you be telling me what to do, Gerry Griffin!”
“Would you just listen for once?” His mouth tightened, puckering the small scar on his lip.
Never had she seen him so mad, even as a kid being teased about his father, or lack of one. She wasn’t sure what to think of this new side of him, but she did shut up.
“You think you know everything,” he railed on, “but just for one frigging minute try to pretend you’re not the three wise men all rolled up into one.” They glared at each other, the musty basement air heavy between them.
She snatched the paper and started to read. In her hand was a financial agreement, including interest, between Gerard Griffin and Mercedes Hann, from the office of Tom Kennedy – a fully legal document. “But Cathy said—”
“I know what Cathy said.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “The truth is, your aunt did offer to pay. But I didn’t feel right about it so she agreed to lend me the money at the family rate. But I never told Ma. She’d be fit to be tied if she knew.”
“Sorry, it’s just…after I went and begged and still didn’t get a dime, and thinking she was paying everything for you, it was so rotten.”
Annie felt humiliated and strangely jealous all at once. Mercedes and Gerry’s relationship had always bothered her but she’d never stopped to figure out why she let it matter so much.
“She thinks a lot of you, Annie.”
“Yeah, sure, that’s why she offered to pay for you and not me,” she said, freshly stung. They’d obviously talked about her. “Can we just leave her out of it?”
“Fine by me. There’s something else I wanted to ask you anyway.”
“What?” Annie only wanted the conversation to end so she could go hide in her bedroom.
But then he moved closer. “It’s about that night we went to Dewey’s.”
She was acutely aware of her heartbeat, and that it, like her breathing, was quicker than before.
“I had a really good time that night, Annie. I thought you did too.”
“Yeah,” she mumbled. “I guess so.”
“That’s why I was so confused when you didn’t call me back.”
“Sorry about that.” She looked down at the floor. Her hair fell forward from behind her left ear.
“That’s okay now.” He reached up and tucked her hair back in place. He did it slowly, his finger seeming to linger an extra second on her ear lobe. “But I was wondering, do you want to do it again sometime?”
A woodsy aroma of aftershave drifted past her nose. “Um, like, how...I mean…” she mumbled, the opposite of the poised woman she dreamed of being.
“You know…” His voice took on a determined tone. “Go out on a real date?”
“Okay…yeah, sure. Back in town though, not here,” she said, her own usually firm voice nothing but a throaty mumble.
“Right,” he agreed instantly. “Let’s wait till we’re back at school.”
Silence hung about them for several seconds.
“How about Friday night?” he asked, his voice now as low as hers.
Their bodies seemed to be tilting inward, but whether it was to better hear each other or from some libidinal gravitational pull, she wasn’t sure.
“I’d like that,” she murmured, her eyes focused on the little furrow in his neck, that small, soft-skinned hollow that she could almost taste, could practically feel its warm pulse on her lips. She blinked rapidly. “Friday night then.”
Warm hands slid along her arms, up past her bare throat.
His left thumb stroked the edge of her mouth as his right hand buried itself in the hair behind her neck, his fingers grazing her scalp ever so lightly. She felt spellbound as he leaned in towards her, certain he could see straight through to her soul. When their lips touched for that very first time, Annie knew she’d never truly been kissed before.
From that moment on they spent all their free time together, although far away from the eyes of St. Jude and their families.
Annie had grown up under Lucinda’s firm Catholic hand, backed up by Mercedes’ strict adherence to the rules of the church. And although they had all sinned occasionally, including Mercedes, or so Annie presumed, certain tenets were beyond discussion. Annie did not remember when she first knew that Pat and Aiden were off limits, but she did know it, as did they. She assumed the same was true for Gerry even if no one acknowledged the family connections.
Yet, even though they shared the same grandmother through their fathers, and they were cousins through their mothers, Annie was confident that, genetically speaking, they were not doing anything terribly wrong. Unfortunately, she knew the church wouldn’t see it that way, nor would her mother or Mercedes or any of the biddies down at Burke’s. Science would never trump religion.
And so they kept it secret, at least until Cathy Green came into the picture.
It was a blustery day and Annie was rushing to put on her coat after lunch, getting ready for the five-minute walk to the library where Gerry was waiting in a cozy corner behind the stacks.
“Where you going?” Cathy asked.
“Just out for a walk.”
“Why? It’s freezing out there.”
“I thought it’d be good to get a bit of fresh air.” Among other things, she thought, smiling.
“Fresh air, eh? Hang on a second, I’ll join you.”
Annie’s smile faded. “Ah…no, that’s okay.”
Cathy crossed her arms. “Don’t you want me to go with you?”
“Sure, it’s just…”
“Just what? You got something up your sleeve, Annie Byrne, and you better tell me what before I finds out for myself.”
Annie sat back down. “All right, but you can’t go blabbing it around.”
Cathy nodded expectantly.
“Swear on a stack of bibles?”
“Yeah, yeah, I swear.” She leaned forward. “What is it?”
“I’m going out with someone.”
“So, why all the mystery?” When Annie stalled, she added, “If you can’t tell your best friend, it must be some bad.”
“No, no it’s not bad. I just think you’ll be surprised.”
“Fine, I’ll be surprised. Now who is it?”
“You promise not to tell anyone?”
“Jeez, I promise.”
Annie inhaled deeply. “Gerry Griffin,” she said, loving the sound of his name on her tongue.
Cathy sat up straighter. “Give over! You and Gerry?” She thought for a moment. “Wait now. Isn’t he a cousin of yours or something?”
“For God’s sake, Cath, didn’t you learn anything in bio?”
Annie said, annoyed. “Besides, that’s ancient history. Nobody hardly remembers that.”
“If you say so,” Cathy shrugged. “So I guess you worked out all that about your aunt and the money?”
“Yeah, he came out to the house after he talked to you.”
“Sorry about that, by the way.”
“I felt some stupid. That frigging Aunt Mercedes—”
Cathy raised her hand. “Enough about that old battleaxe.
Tell me all about you and him. When did it start?” Her eyes widened. “Holy shit, do Aiden and Pat know?”
Annie laughed. “Couple of weeks and, no, the boys don’t know. You’re the only one and we want to keep it that way. So, what do you think?”
“I don’t know, girl. A few years ago it might have been odd, but it’s different now. I mean, none of us are the same as we were back in high school, are we?”
Annie smiled, relieved. “No, and it’s a good frigging thing, too.”
“Especially Gerry. He’s after getting some good looking, actually.” “Isn’t he, though?” Annie felt herself blush. “But you promised, not a word?”
“My lips are sealed, so long as you tell me all about it.”
“Sure, but I got to run now, he’s waiting for me.”
Annie rushed off, buoyed by the knowledge that someone finally knew. Som
eone she could trust, and talk to, and tell how wonderful it all was.
Yes, so very wonderful, and in ways she would never have imagined. Annie was surprised to discover a sensuality she’d never dreamed she possessed, experiencing an inexplicable delight in the most unlikely details. Like his hands. Gerry Griffin’s hands captivated her. His fingers were long and lean, the nails neatly trimmed. His hands seemed sure, capable, sensuous even. Sometimes she would catch herself watching how he held a fork, or lifted a beer glass, or simply reached toward her. Imagine his gentle touch on her neck, her lips. Barely grazing her skin, yet sending warm currents through her entire body. Before long, she’d find her mouth open, her breath whispering in small flutters. And although she’d have been embarrassed if anyone were to have the slightest inkling what she was thinking, she couldn’t keep the sinful grin off her face.
For the rest of that long island winter, they revelled in the minutes, the hours, the days together. Time was insignificant even as it sped by.
Then, suddenly, spring was approaching and, with it, the end of the school year. Their world was in jeopardy.
“Annie?”
It was a Thursday evening. They were stretched, fully clothed, across her mattress, having just enjoyed the first long, sweet, lingering kiss of the day. Gerry’s right hand was combing her hair, each pull-through sending a fresh shiver along her skin.
“Yeah?” She snuggled closer on the bed, nuzzling his neck with her nose.
“What are we going to do after exams?” His arms tightened around her.
She felt her body tense. “Go home, I suppose. Try to get a job.”
They were quiet then. Annie closed her eyes, concentrating on his hands as they made small circles in the centre of her back.
“Maybe we don’t have to,” he said, his voice hoarse, his arms pulling her closer.
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t think beyond his touch. Wrapped up in the raw power they had over each other, she pulled back just enough for her mouth to reach his. Their lips touched tentatively at first, lightly grazing, savouring; then, falling into oblivion, they gave in to this new passion that owned them. Soon, hands and hips joined in as they experienced bodily reactions the Nuns had failed to mention. With the threat of being separated hanging in the air, it was all they could do to remember to breathe.
“What do you mean, we don’t have to?” she asked eventually. “We could take summer courses. It’s not too late to apply.”
She sat up. “Then we wouldn’t be stuck out in St. Jude.”
“A couple in spring session, a couple more in summer. What do you think?”
Annie was having trouble concentrating as his finger grazed the inside of her arm just above the elbow. Her body felt as if it might melt away. He pulled her back down.
“Go on and get the diapers.” Sadie shooed Debra down the nearest grocery aisle, then stood waiting, her eyes on the steaks laid out on their trays behind the glass.
If I gets that bit of sirloin for Gerard, and some of that blade for the rest of them, shouldn’t be too dear.
Luke Ennis passed a package of sausage to Janet Foley, whose close-set eyes gave Sadie a quick once-over before she nodded and proceeded on her way.
Poor thing, looking more like Bessie every day.
Luke turned to Sadie. “Hello Mrs. Griffin, and what can I get for you?” He smiled, his front teeth protruding slightly.
Nice fellow, that Luke. Bit of a rabbit, mind you.
“Afternoon, Luke. How much do that last bit of sirloin there weigh?”
“Six…seven ounces maybe.”
“Right, I’ll take that, and throw in a pound of that blade there.”
“I got more sirloin in the back. Just give me one second—”
“No, don’t go to no trouble for me, the blade is fine.”
“It’s no trouble at all, Mrs. Griffin. I’ll—”
“I wouldn’t think of it.” Sadie’s voice was firm. “The blade is fine.”
Would’ve made a fine catch for our Debra. Looks ain’t everything. Too bad he got mixed up with that Beth Byrne.
Sadie watched him wrap and tie the parcel. When she got home, she would cut them so all the pieces looked similar. Only she would know which was which.
Lucinda Byrne stepped up to the counter. “Sadie.” She nodded curtly and turned to her son-in-law. “You got any nice hamburger there, Luke?”
Some cheap, that one. Poor Derm, stuck with hamburger when he could be having steak.
“Ground some fresh a few minutes ago, good and lean like you likes it.”
Sadie sniffed. “I just picked up a fine bit of steak for supper. Our Gerard be here tonight. Poor boy don’t get home much, he’s studying all the summer at the university. So devoted he is. He wouldn’t want to be wasting nobody’s money, no, no, not my Gerard.” She glanced sideways at Lucinda.
“That’s funny.” Lucinda looked more puzzled than amused. “Annie’s going to summer school too.”
“Is she now? Gerard never said nothing about that.”
Then again, why would he? Not like he ever hung out with Annie Byrne, thank the good Lord.
“Neither did Annie, about him, I mean. I was surprised when he came by the house—”
Out of nowhere came the shrieks and cries of a child.
“Mark?” Instantly oblivious to Lucinda, Sadie looked about for the source. Before she had a chance to move from her spot Debra appeared in front of them, a crying baby in her arms.
“Debra! What happened?”
“I was reaching for the diapers and bumped his head. Is he okay?”
“What have I told you about a baby’s head?” Sadie yelled, her calloused hand already inching its way over the fine downy hair. Satisfied there was no damage, she lit into her daughter. “You got to be more careful. I’m sick of telling you.”
“Fine looking boy you got there, Debra.” Lucinda was looking intently at Mark. “Lovely head of hair on him. Some dark, isn’t it, almost black?”
Sadie’s head jerked towards Lucinda. Her mouth tightened.
What’s she gawking at? Heard them frigging rumours probably. Frigging lies, more like it.
Sadie carefully placed Mark back in Debra’s hands. “You’re learning, Debra. You’re doing just fine, no matter what anybody thinks.”
Debra cooed and shushed the baby, bobbing to and fro until he quieted down.
Sadie took the package of meat from Luke and nudged Debra forward. “Best be getting on. Boy needs his nap. Good day, Lucinda.”
Lucinda was still looking at Mark. “Oh…yes…bye now.”
Sadie could feel Lucinda staring after them all the way down the aisle.
On the way home, they passed the post office just as Aiden Hann was coming out. From the corner of her eye, Sadie saw him stop and watch them, then turn and go in the opposite direction. Goddamn son of a bitch.
For Annie and Gerry, St. Jude was a world away. They only went home twice the entire summer, each time for one night, each proclaiming to their parents how busy they were at school.
Living in St. John’s, they had the time and the space away from all who knew them to get to know each other in almost every way.
Yet somehow they managed to hold back, to not take that final step, through May and June, through July and August and on into September. But Annie was no fool. She had learned from Beth’s experience.
Gathering up her courage, she made an appointment to get the pill, far off campus and away from prying eyes. It may have been the nineties, but she was still a good virginal female Catholic Newfoundlander. She’d been born with original sin and the guilt that shrouded it; she did not want to get caught planning for sex to happen.
As she lolled in her seat on her way to the doctor’s office, the sounds of the bus exhaust gradually receded, leaving only a welcoming white noise behind her heavy eyes. Soft autumn sunshine, the apple trees along the boulevard, the beauty and serenity of the morning, all combined to ease her fears.
She spent the next three hours in a small, fusty, overcrowded reception area squeezed between two pregnant women who kept up a constant conversation over and around her, talking non-stop about husbands and babies and dirty diapers while they all waited for the doctor to return. Each time the phone rang or someone new arrived, the nurse behind the desk repeated the same litany in clipped tones: “Dr. Spencer was called to a delivery and should be back shortly.” As the morning wore on and the noise grew louder, even the nurse started to look flustered. After one particular phone call, the receiver hit the cradle with a bang. “She’s going to be at least two more hours,” she informed the room. “So you can stay or go as you please.”
They all frowned and murmured amongst themselves. No one rose.
“At least two hours,” she said, her voice raised. “But don’t count on it.”
Annie hated to leave empty handed but she was beginning to think that if she’d managed this far without losing her virginity, perhaps she should put it off a little longer. Surrounded by crying children and sick or pregnant women, all of whom had been forced together by some stranger’s problematic delivery, she was no longer sure if sex was a good idea. Was it all a sign for her to go home and keep her legs closed? Maybe God was trying to tell her something, give her another chance to do the right thing, or at least not do the wrong one. She grabbed her knapsack and hurried outside.
Annie knew little about sex. She knew where it went and how it got there, but her mother and sisters were not exactly open on the subject, nor was it a topic she discussed casually with friends. Her main source of information was Cathy Green.
Cathy had been having sex with her long-time boyfriend Cyril for close to a year and she complained about it constantly.
Things came to a head one October weekend. Fed up with the constant groping and pleading, Cathy sent Cyril home to St.
Jude alone on the bus. She stayed in residence, glad to have a few days when she wouldn’t have to fend him off. Gerry had to go to St. Jude as well and Cathy convinced Annie to stay in town with her. Knowing she wouldn’t see Gerry while out home, Annie agreed.
Seven o’clock that night, Cathy showed up at Annie’s room, a case of Blue Star beer cradled in her arms, a bag of nacho chips and a jar of salsa on top. After her second beer, Cathy started in about the sex and didn’t shut up until the case was empty.
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