Frisky Business

by Clodagh Murphy

  ‘What about Ethan?’ Romy asked, aware that she was fishing, but she couldn’t help it.

  Kit snorted. ‘No chance! She’d have more luck with me.’ ‘Why? Is he gay or something?’

  ‘No, definitely not. He’s quite the vagina enthusiast. But

  he’s far too busy shagging his way around the world, dazzling the female population with his good looks and his good works.’

  ‘So he doesn’t have any steady girlfriend?’

  ‘No. Commitment isn’t really his thing. He likes his freedom. And to give credit where it’s due, he does make the most of it.’

  ‘Well, what about Hannah? She’s getting married soon …’

  ‘No way.’ Kit shook his head. ‘Hannah and Tank have made it very clear that they intend to enjoy a good five years of coupledom before they get sprogged up.’

  ‘Tank?’ She pulled back to look at him. ‘Your sister is marrying someone called Tank?’

  ‘Well, that’s not his real name, obviously. It’s a nickname. He plays rugby,’ Kit added, as if that explained everything.

  ‘Why Tank?’

  Kit shrugged. ‘Built like a tank, behaves like one – take your pick. It suits him. You’ll see.’

  The evocative smell of roasting turkey hit Romy’s nostrils as soon as Laura opened the door.

  ‘Happy Thanksgiving,’ she said, embracing them in turn.

  ‘Happy Thanksgiving.’ Romy handed her a large bouquet of tiger lilies and a bottle of wine.

  ‘Oh my Lord, thank you, Romy – they’re just beautiful. Come on through to the kitchen,’ she said, leading them down the hall. ‘We’re all in there.’

  Kit took off his coat and then started helping Romy off with hers, his American manners taking her by surprise. She had forgotten that Laura had raised her sons to stand when a woman entered the room, to pull out chairs and open car doors and never to walk on the street side of the pavement when they were with a girl. She had always found it rather charming, though a little disconcerting when you were used to more rough and ready Irish ways. It had always seemed especially incongruous coming from someone as wild and unconventional looking as Kit.

  ‘Can I help you with anything?’ she asked as they followed Laura into the kitchen.

  ‘No thanks, dear, I think everything’s under control. I have plenty of helpers.’

  Ethan was standing over a large pot, aromatic steam rising from it as he stirred, filling the air with the Christmassy smells of cinnamon, cloves and orange. On the far side of the room, Colm was setting the long oak table, the centre of which was already decorated with a brocade runner covered in fat pumpkin candles and pine cones.

  ‘Hi,’ Ethan looked up and smiled as they came in.

  ‘Hello, Romy,’ Colm called to her from across the kitchen, giving her a little wave. ‘I’ve gone for blue today,’ he said, indicating his shirt, which was the palest shade of duck-egg.

  ‘Good choice,’ Romy said, giving him a thumbs-up. ‘Brings out the blue of your eyes.’

  ‘My thoughts exactly,’ he nodded happily, before returning to his table-setting.

  ‘Hannah isn’t here yet?’ Kit asked.

  ‘No, they should be here shortly,’ Laura said. ‘I’ll just go and put these beautiful flowers Romy brought into water,’ she added, bustling over to the sink.

  ‘Have you warned Romy about Tank?’ Ethan asked Kit.

  ‘Warned me?’ Romy asked.

  ‘No. But he’s not likely to go for her when he’s only just met her, is he?’ Kit answered his brother as if she hadn’t spoken.

  Ethan shrugged. ‘Can’t be too sure with Tank.’

  ‘What do you mean “go for me”?’ Romy asked exasperatedly.

  Ethan abandoned his stirring, balancing his wooden spoon on the edge of the pot, and they both turned to her.

  ‘He’s just a bit … boisterous,’ Kit said.

  ‘He probably won’t tackle you,’ Ethan told her, ‘since he’s never met you before. But you never know. It’s best to be prepared.’

  ‘Hang on – tackle me?’ Romy shrieked.

  ‘Don’t suppose you’ve ever played any rugby?’ Kit asked her.

  ‘Rugby? No!’

  ‘What about self-defence?’ Ethan asked. ‘Have you ever done any martial arts or anything like that?’

  ‘No. I’ve done a few kick-boxing exercise classes.’ She was torn between alarm and amusement at the serious expressions on their faces as they discussed the possibility of their sister’s fiancé grappling with her.

  ‘Okay.’ Ethan nodded thoughtfully. ‘Well, maybe we could show you some basic blocking moves before he gets here.’

  ‘Oh, come on! You’re winding me up,’ she said. Much as the idea of practising wrestling with Kit and Ethan appealed …

  Ethan grinned. ‘Well, maybe a little bit.’

  ‘But not much,’ Kit warned.

  ‘Don’t mind them,’ Colm said, coming over. ‘Tank’s a good lad. He just doesn’t know his own strength sometimes. That time he fractured Hannah’s wrist was a freak accident.’

  ‘Oh, now you’re winding me up,’ Romy said, laughing, slapping him playfully on the shoulder.

  ‘No,’ he said, his face the picture of innocence. ‘That really happened.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Don’t look so worried,’ Ethan said, giving her a consoling pat on the shoulder. ‘It really was an accident. Hannah just dodged the wrong way and fell awkwardly.’

  ‘It could have happened to anyone,’ Colm said.

  Surely not, Romy thought, but they didn’t have time to explain further as the front door opened and two pairs of footsteps could be heard approaching.

  ‘Hi, everyone,’ Hannah called as she came into the kitchen, followed by a big blocky man with a tuft of dark hair standing up on his head. ‘Happy Thanksgiving!’ Hannah was tall like her brothers but without their reedy thinness, her body tending towards the curvy solidity of her mother’s. She was strikingly like Laura, with a pretty, round face, huge clear blue eyes and thick strawberry blonde hair that fell to her shoulders. Romy was relieved that she didn’t look too delicate and breakable, but alarmed that Tank had managed to injure her all the same.

  While she hugged her brothers and father, Tank rushed over to Laura, who was standing at the sink arranging Romy’s flowers, grabbing her from behind and wrestling her into a headlock.

  ‘Oh hello, Tank,’ Laura said, smiling up at him from under his arm, her voice vibrating as he ruffled her hair vigorously.

  ‘Happy Thanksgiving, Laura,’ he said, beaming as he released her and she tried to smooth her hair down and catch her breath, her cheeks flushed. He turned his attention to Kit and Ethan then, greeting them with a bout of shadow boxing while they feinted laughingly in reply. On the last punch, Kit didn’t duck in time and Tank landed an actual blow to his stomach.

  ‘Jaysus, sorry about that,’ Tank said amiably, patting Kit on the back as he doubled over. ‘And who have we here?’ he asked, turning his attention to Romy, who leapt back instinctively.

  Kit straightened up, and she was touched that both he and Ethan came to stand a little in front of her. ‘This is Romy, ’ Kit said.

  She braced herself, but got off lightly as Tank simply grabbed her hand, pumping it enthusiastically. ‘Romy, pleased to meet you.’

  ‘It’s really nice to see you again, Romy,’ Hannah said, smiling at her, but seeming somewhat bemused by her presence.

  ‘Why don’t you all go through to the living room while I finish up in here,’ Laura said. ‘I’ll bring in drinks in a minute.’

  They trooped through to the living room, and Romy sat on the sofa, Kit sitting unnecessarily close beside her, leaving a large gap between him and Ethan at the other end.

  ‘Now that I’ve finally got you two here,’ Hannah said to her

  brothers, ‘I need to finalise plans for my wedding. Are you

  going to be bringing anyone, Kit? I take it Lauren won’t be

 
flying over for it?’

  ‘No, definitely not. Lauren and I split up,’ Kit said.

  ‘Well, I can’t honestly say I’m sorry to hear that,’ Hannah said.

  ‘God, no!’ Tank agreed. ‘She was a fierce pain in the hole altogether. Acted like she had something stuck up her arse the whole time.’

  Maybe because she had, Romy thought.

  ‘Gee, don’t hold back,’ Kit said.

  ‘Well, you don’t exactly seem gutted yourself,’ Hannah said, looking at him closely.

  ‘I’ll live.’

  ‘So are you planning to bring anyone to the wedding?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, Romy’s coming with me.’

  ‘Oh, that’s great!’ she said, giving Romy a bright smile. ‘I’d much rather have you there than stinky old Lauren. And you should come to my hen party. We’re going to an adventure centre for the weekend, and we’ll do archery and shooting and zip wires and all sorts of stuff.’

  ‘That sounds unusual for a hen do.’

  ‘Yeah, well, we’re trying to save money, so I wanted to do something close to home. And it’ll be loads more fun than going to some spa for facials and massages. It’ll be great! What do you think? Will you come? It’s the weekend after next.’

  ‘Well, it sounds really fun, but I’d have to get a babysitter and I’m not sure about leaving Luke for a whole weekend—’

  ‘Oh, you have a baby?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I didn’t know you had a baby!’ Ethan said. ‘How old is he?’

  ‘Three months.’

  ‘Couldn’t his father babysit?’ Hannah asked.

  Romy knew she was probably fishing for information, but she didn’t mind. She was used to people’s curiosity about her circumstances. ‘His father isn’t around,’ she said.

  ‘Well, you should bring him. My friends all love babies. We could take turns babysitting so you’d get to do some of the activities.’

  ‘If you’re going to be doing shooting and zip wires at the hen party, I dread to think what’s going to happen at Tank’s stag,’ Kit said.

  ‘Well, you’d have to ask Wedgie about that,’ Tank said. ‘He’s the one who’s organising it.’

  ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance he’s planning a Scottish theme,’ Kit said sulkily. ‘Spot of caber tossing, tug of war, that sort of thing?’

  ‘I haven’t a bog,’ Tank said. ‘He’s planning a surprise for me, so it’s all top secret.’

  ‘Why would he have a Scottish theme anyway?’ Hannah asked. ‘There’s no Scottish connection.’

  ‘No reason. I was just hoping.’

  ‘Really? I wouldn’t have thought caber tossing would float your dinghy.’

  ‘Kit was hoping to get a chance to wear a kilt,’ Romy explained to Hannah.

  ‘Ah!’ She smirked. ‘You’re afraid of Wedgie, aren’t you?’

  ‘So would you be.’

  ‘Drinks, everyone!’ Laura called as she and Colm came in, carrying trays of mulled wine. ‘Careful, it’s hot,’ she said as she held out a tray and Romy reached for a steaming glass, picking it up with one of the folded napkins Laura had piled alongside the drinks.

  ‘What’s this?’ Tank said suspiciously, peering into his glass. ‘Ribena?’

  ‘It’s mulled wine,’ Hannah murmured to him.

  ‘Mine’s got a bit of twig or something in it,’ he said, poking a finger into the glass to fish out the offending article.

  ‘They’re cloves,’ Laura told him. ‘They’re supposed to be there. Ethan made it.’

  ‘Oh, really? Great stuff, Ethan,’ he said with a nod of his head in Ethan’s direction. ‘Fair play. Is that something you learned in the jungle?’

  ‘Er … no,’ Ethan said, his lips twitching.

  ‘I knew a lad once who went into the army and got sent to the jungle. Fierce resourceful chap. Could make alcohol out of anything – bits of twigs, leaves, any sort of fruit you can think of – you name it, he could turn it into alcohol.’

  ‘Well, Ethan hasn’t been to the jungle,’ Hannah said. ‘He was in Haiti.’

  ‘Ah, right,’ Tank nodded, but from his baffled expression he clearly didn’t see the distinction. ‘Bark,’ he continued dreamily, ‘pine cones …

  ‘Do you want to stay overnight at the hotel after the wedding, Romy?’ Hannah asked. ‘It’s in Wicklow, so a lot of the guests are spending the night. I just need to know how many rooms we need.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I’ll stay the night. I’ve already arranged for Mum to take Luke.’

  ‘Great! I’ll book you a room, then.’

  ‘She doesn’t need a room,’ Kit said. ‘She’ll be staying with me, in my room.’

  To her surprise, Romy felt his hand on her leg in a seemingly casual gesture, and he squeezed even closer to her on the couch, so their thighs were touching.

  ‘Oh!’ Hannah seemed taken aback, her eyes narrowing as she watched Kit’s hand. ‘So you two are …’

  ‘We’re back together, yes.’ Kit turned to smile at Romy, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side.

  ‘Oh.’ Hannah sounded disappointed, and Romy caught her and Ethan exchanging a glance. She wasn’t sure what it meant, but neither of them looked pleased. Suddenly, she felt very disconcerted and uncomfortable – and hurt. She thought they liked her. They had both been friendly and seemed genuinely pleased to see her again. So why wouldn’t they be happy that she and Kit were back together? At least Laura looked happy about it.

  ‘Well, that was quick work,’ she said, her face lighting up. ‘When you know, you know,’ Kit said, turning to look adoringly at Romy.

  She felt a little frisson as their eyes met and enjoyed the feeling of being fancied, even if it was just pretend. Though it felt real enough.

  ‘How about you, Ethan?’ Hannah was asking now. ‘Are you bringing anyone to the wedding?’

  Romy was annoyed to realise she was on high alert for his answer.

  ‘The bridesmaids are all attached – if that influences your decision,’ Hannah continued.

  ‘Shut up,’ Ethan said, blushing and glancing at Romy. ‘You make me sound like—’

  ‘A total man-whore? That’s what you are, my darling. But it doesn’t make me love you any less.’

  ‘Well, yeah, I guess I will bring someone.’

  ‘Do we have a name? Who’s the lucky winner?’

  ‘Sinead. I’m meeting up with her tomorrow night. I’ll ask her then.’

  When Laura announced that dinner was ready, Kit indicated to Romy that he wanted her to hang back with him.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ he said when everyone else had left the room. ‘I was kind of put on the spot. You don’t mind, do you? Sharing a room?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘I mean if you’re supposed to be my girlfriend, it would seem weird if we didn’t. But I can be a gentleman. I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself. And you can break up with me right after the wedding if you like.’

  ‘I’m not in any hurry to break up with you,’ she said, smiling at him as they went to join everyone else in the kitchen.

  ‘This all looks fantastic!’ she said, as Kit pulled out a chair for her to sit down.

  ‘It looks great, Mom,’ Ethan said as they started passing bowls of soggy vegetables and lumpy mashed potato, and everyone else joined in, murmuring their appreciation. There was corn bread with chilli, bowls of stuffing and cranberry sauce, a green bean casserole and a couple of colourful salads. Whatever about the quality of her food, Laura couldn’t be faulted on quantity.

  ‘That turkey was a bugger to carve,’ Colm said as he handed around plates of something resembling sawdust.

  ‘Oh dear,’ Laura fretted. ‘Is it a little dry?’

  ‘No, it’s grand,’ Colm said. ‘It’s that carving knife – wouldn’t cut butter. We’ll have to throw it out and get a new one for Christmas.’

  ‘What’s this?’ Tank asked, poking his fork sus
piciously at a dish of something orange with charred black stripes.

  ‘They’re glazed sweet potatoes,’ Laura told him. ‘My mom always made them just like that on Thanksgiving – except she didn’t burn them.’

  ‘They’re not burned, they’re caramelised,’ Colm said. ‘I’ve seen Jamie Oliver doing that.’

  ‘Cremated, more like,’ Tank said under his breath, nevertheless helping himself to a generous serving.

  ‘This cauliflower cheese is gorgeous,’ Romy said when she

  had tasted it, trying not to sound too surprised. Laura had obviously improved over the years, at least in some things. The mashed potatoes were still pretty awful, and the turkey was hard to swallow without choking, but at least there was something edible.

  ‘Oh, Ethan made that,’ Laura said, smiling at him. ‘I don’t know how he gets the sauce so smooth. I’m afraid I can’t say the same for the gravy,’ she said ruefully.

  ‘Nonsense!’ Colm huffed. ‘We like a sauce with a bit of body, don’t we?’ he asked the table at large, and everyone nodded their agreement.

  He should be happy with the gravy, then, Romy thought, as globules of it plopped onto her plate as she poured. It certainly had plenty of ‘body’.

  ‘Happy Thanksgiving everyone!’ Laura said when they had loaded their plates, and they all clinked glasses. Then everyone started talking at once.

  ‘So tell us about your boy, Romy …’

  ‘You won’t have had a feed like this in a long time, Ethan. What do they eat in the jungle anyway?’

  ‘Mom, I need you to come to the dress fitting with me next

  week.’

  ‘Lumpy mashed potatoes are all the rage nowadays. Crushed potatoes, they call them. All the top chefs are doing them.’

  As the sounds of chatter and laughter flowed around the table, Romy observed Laura at the head of it all and thought she looked ready to burst with happiness, her rosy cheeks warmed by the glow of candles, her joy palpable as she looked around at her family.

  Later, when coffee had been served with a pecan pie so dry and hard that all conversation ceased as nothing could be

  heard over the crunching, Laura clinked her glass and everyone fell silent in what was clearly a Thanksgiving tradition.