The Right Time

by Susan X Meagher

  “Too many rules.”

  “Damn straight. I learned how to ride horses when I went to stay with my grandparents, and I loved that, but I didn’t do much at home. Everyone I knew took ballet lessons or played golf or was trying to make the school tennis team. It was one of those schools jammed full of kids with helicopter parents. By fifth grade they all were talking about how to get into Harvard or MIT.”

  “Your mom didn’t hover?”

  “We weren’t in the same air space,” she said, shaking her head. “So everybody but me was involved in something. Even the nerds didn’t want me, since I didn’t like any of the same things they did. I was alone, but I wasn’t a loner. It sucked.”

  “But you’re so much fun. I’d think you’d have dozens of friends.”

  Townsend was quiet for a minute, and Hennessy let her attention drift off to the fire, which was burning perfectly. She could already taste the shrimp and the squid she’d bought. The sausage would add the perfect bit of spiciness.

  When Townsend spoke again, Hennessy was pulled from her reverie, but she listened closely.

  “There were kids I liked—and I played with them at recess and stuff, but they were all involved in so many things they didn’t have time to hang out after school.” She turned to meet Hennessy’s eyes. “Boston’s a very competitive place. Parents don’t give their kids any unstructured time.”

  “That was grade school, right?”

  “Uh-huh. It was in high school when things got really bad. A couple of girls in my class were real assholes and they picked on me from the first day.” She shrugged. “Maybe it was because my mom was famous. She’d just signed on to make one of her most popular books into a movie and there was a ton of gossip about who they were going to cast. I got harassed constantly.”

  “That movie was a big deal,” Hennessy agreed. “I remember all of the girls in my class talking about seeing it dozens of times.”

  “Yeah. It made her a ton of money and made me a pariah. Nice tradeoff.”

  “Was this a local high school?”

  “No, a prep school for rich assholes. It was in Boston, a longish drive. I was the only one from my grade school who went there.”

  “You must have been so lonely,” Hennessy soothed, nuzzling her face against Townsend’s neck.

  “Mad. I was mad,” Townsend growled. That anger was so accessible. And so destructive. “In eighth grade I looked like a little girl. Over the summer my breasts grew and my hips filled out. A couple of guys started to notice me.”

  “Did you want to be noticed? By boys, I mean.”

  “Didn’t matter,” she said softly. “I wanted someone…anyone to notice me. I was outside one day, and the bitchy girls were harassing me about something. A couple of cool guys came over and watched for a minute.” She laughed, and a note of pride made Hennessy prepare for something bad. “I took off after the bitchiest girl and took a swing at her. Knocked her right on her butt. She ran away, crying like a little jerk, and I stayed and talked to the boys. One of them—Derek—asked me if I wanted to hang out after school.” The bragging tone vanished, replaced by a whisper-soft voice. Hennessy had to turn her head to hear. “God knows I didn’t have good boundaries; I guess I never have. I got into a car full of guys and went to Derek’s house. We drank a couple of shots of Jäger and…I had sex with him.”

  “Damn.” Hennessy had been holding her breath, knowing something bad was coming. “You were just a freshman?”

  “Uh-huh.” She took Hennessy’s arms and tucked them more firmly around herself. “I’d barely had a sexual thought up to that point. But I got an advanced education in no time at all.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Hennessy whispered.

  “I hated it. It hurt like hell and made me feel…invisible. I can’t explain it any better. A guy is lying on you, pounding away while you just try to disappear. It wasn’t rape, since I never said ‘no,’ but they felt like rapists. They got me drunk and used my body to get off.”

  “Goddamn, Townsend. Didn’t anyone notice? Couldn’t your mom tell something was going on?”

  “Fuck no. She was out in LA for weeks at a time.” She let out a laugh, the one, Hennessy now recognized, that signaled thoughts of a reckless or dangerous time. “I was sick of having strangers supervising me, so I called the agency and fired the latest babysitter. Those people are so stupid! How could you believe a kid calling to fire the hired help?”

  Hennessy shook her head, wishing Townsend had been a little less smart, a little less resourceful.

  “Once she was gone I’d invite people over after school. You can guess what happened.”

  Hennessy shivered as she thought of a classmate. Every once in a while a bunch of kids went over to Melody Hart’s house after school, then spent the whole next day talking about what trouble they’d gotten into.

  Her cheeks grew hot as she thought of how she’d pointedly avoided Melody because of the gossip, going so far as to request a new lab partner for biology class. Given what she’d heard, Townsend’s parties were a hell of a lot worse—yet she felt only sympathy for her.

  She tucked her arms more fully around Townsend’s body and nuzzled her face against her neck. Being close let her focus on their bond and let her protective instincts surge. Had she been too harsh with Melody, or too lenient with Townsend? Life wasn’t as black and white as it had seemed just a year or two ago.

  A detail came to mind. Someone’s mom had found out about the parties, and they’d come to an abrupt end. Hennessy put her lips to Townsend’s chilled ear and blew warmth over it for a few seconds. “Why didn’t anyone notice?”

  “I don’t know,” she said slowly, probably thinking that over for the first time. “We had a lot of property. I guess no one was annoyed enough to call the cops.”

  “Was that when you started to drink?”

  Her head nodded slowly, soft, fine blonde hair tickling Hennessy’s nose as it did. “The Jäger I drank to black out enough to have sex was the first alcohol I’d ever had.”

  Hennessy let that thought float around in her head for a minute. A thousand things could have stopped the boulder from picking up speed. A neighbor calling the police, one of the kids’ moms getting involved, Townsend’s mother paying the slightest bit of attention. Anything could have helped. But no one cared enough to look after a frightened little girl heading for a cliff.

  Townsend’s voice was soft and contemplative. The way she spoke gave Hennessy the feeling she’d rarely or never talked about this before.

  “After that first time, I had to drink. I had to get high enough to be able to fuck guys I barely knew and didn’t particularly like.”

  “You poor thing,” Hennessy soothed, tightening her hold around her waist.

  She wrenched away and turned to face Hennessy, with the wind blowing her hair straight back, highlighting the hatred in her eyes—hatred for herself. “I got what I deserved.”

  “That’s not true,” Hennessy whispered fiercely. “You were a girl. Not even close to being a woman yet. Those guys used you like a toy.”

  “Because I let them. No guy is going to turn down free pussy.”

  “A decent guy would. At least I think he would.” She slumped down against her homemade beach chair, her ignorance making her say things she had no way of proving. “I don’t know enough about guys to know what they’d do. I guess that’s another reason I stayed away from them.”

  “I should have. Getting pregnant made everything worse. It was like tossing gas onto a fire. The process accelerated faster than I could keep up with.”

  “You couldn’t get a foot out to stop the runaway car.”

  “Given the way my luck was going, if I had gotten a foot out, it would have been ripped off. It was all going by too fast.”

  Hennessy got busy after that sad little discussion. She’d heard enough tragic stories for one day and needed to keep her hands moving to stop thinking about them. After putting the rest of the logs on the fire, she filled
the pot up with the water she’d brought, then started tossing things inside.

  Whole new potatoes splashed into the water, then she opened a little bag of seasoning and sprinkled it around. “If you’re gonna do this right, you really should have soft-shell crab and fresh corn on the cob. But you can’t get either at Christmas.”

  “This is suspiciously like a crab boil,” Townsend said. “I think you guys swiped this from us.”

  “No way!” Hennessy declared. “This is Low Country Boil. I know you don’t use Andouille sausage in New England.” She took out a tin of Old Bay Seasoning and added a hefty amount.

  “Old Bay?” Townsend said, raising an eyebrow. “Which bay do you think that comes from? Massachusetts,” she declared. “I bet it says so right on the label.”

  Hennessy held the tin close, acting like she was reading it. “Made for Low Country Boil, also known as Frogmore Stew, from local spices and herbs found exclusively in the most beautiful place on earth. Charleston Bay.” She turned to Townsend and shrugged. “Sorry.”

  “I never knew you to lie so blatantly,” Townsend said. “I like it. Maybe some of my skills are finally rubbing off on you.”

  Hennessy pulled a plastic bag over and stuck her hand inside. “A little bit of your home state has rubbed off on me.” She held up a big Wellfleet oyster. “I love our local oysters, but yours are bigger. I thought you’d appreciate a few for our Christmas feast.”

  “Let me at ’em,” Townsend cooed. “Hope you brought an oyster knife.”

  “I did indeed.” Hennessy took the knife from her jacket pocket and handed it and the oysters over. “I’ll make up some spicy cocktail sauce while you shuck.”

  Townsend gave her a love-filled smile. “In honor of Christmas, I won’t say anything suggestive, even though you really set me up.”

  They each performed their tasks, then Townsend held a half shell up to Hennessy’s lips, after dousing it with horseradish-infused cocktail sauce. “Gulp it down, baby girl.”

  The oyster slid down her throat, with the horseradish going right up into her sinuses. That was such a strangely satisfying sensation, the briny, slippery oyster with the tangy sauce lingering on your tastebuds for a long time. “One of my favorite things,” Hennessy declared. “I could eat two dozen—alone.”

  Townsend maneuvered around to settle back against Hennessy. Then she opened an oyster, spooned some sauce on it and let it slide into her mouth. “Good stuff,” she said. “I might have to fight you for these.”

  Hennessy leaned in and placed soft kisses on her chilly neck. Then she sat back and simply let the pleasures of the day wash over her. Being home—with Townsend—was enough to make her perfectly happy. But being out on the beach, completely alone, with the salty, fresh breeze in their faces and the warmth of the crackling fire to keep the chill at bay… Well, that was a day you wanted to encase in amber.

  They whipped through the rest of the oysters, with Townsend showing an amazing dexterity in her shucking. After the last oyster disappeared, Hennessy checked her potatoes, deciding they had another good while to go, then she sat back down and immediately cuddled up behind Townsend.

  “You did a really good job on the oysters,” she said, still tasting the horseradish. “I’d be happy to have some of your skills. Actually I want to celebrate some of them with a gift.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small box.

  “No fair!” Townsend objected, turning to scowl. “You made me promise not to buy you anything.”

  “It’s a gift for the future. I’m going to keep it for a while.”

  Townsend scooted out from between Hennessy’s legs, then crawled across the sand to sit next to her. “Is that what you call gifts in South Carolina? Things you buy but don’t give away?”

  “No,” she said, a little shyly. “This is a special kind of gift.” She took in a breath and let it out in a rush. “I’ve given this a lot of thought, and one thing I know is that it’s always a mistake to get into a relationship before you’ve had a year of sobriety.”

  “But—!”

  Hennessy spoke right over her. “That’s proven to be true for a lot of people, and I’m not going to test the theory. Not with you. You’re too precious to me to risk having this blow up in our faces.”

  “But we are in a relationship. How can you deny that?”

  “Being intimate will change things. It just will. We’ve got our hands full, trying to learn as much as we can about each other while we work on our own issues.” She pursed her lips and spit the last bit out quickly. “We need to keep it right here until you’ve been sober for a year.”

  “That’s six more months!”

  A gnawing sensation settled in Hennessy’s gut. She’d known this was going to be a tough sell, and given the look on Townsend’s face, she’d been dead right. “It is. I know that seems like a long time, but it really isn’t. We can do this. I know we can. When you’ve been sober for a year, we can start to move forward. If you want to, that is.”

  A dark, suspicious look made that pretty face appear older and much more jaded. “Start to move forward? What does that mean?”

  “We’ll see when we get there. I’m going back to camp, and if we’re ready to be intimate, I’ll tell MaryAnn the whole story and see what she thinks.”

  “I’ll have my mom rent us a house,” Townsend offered, her sober expression replaced by a bright smile.

  “That’s damned unlikely,” Hennessy said. “MaryAnn would never agree to that. Besides, I’m a house leader. I’ve got to be in the house to lead the darned thing.” She shook her head, determined to get to the point she needed to make. “Don’t focus on that. Where we live isn’t the important part.”

  “Says you,” Townsend said glumly. “I don’t think I can be with you all summer and keep my hands off you. That’s going to be ridiculously hard.”

  “No,” Hennessy said, trying to stay patient. “Staying sober is the hard part. It always is. I just want you to understand that I’ll be right with you, no matter what. Eventually, you’ll be able to stay on the path. I believe in you.”

  Townsend hugged her tight, squeezing until Hennessy let out a yelp. “I love having your trust.”

  “You do.” Opening the box, Hennessy pulled out a thin gold chain, with a small gold disk attached to it. “This is a one year chip.” The wind caught it and made it flutter for a few seconds, the sun reflecting off the gold to make it glitter. “I don’t want to put pressure on you, so I’m not going to give it to you yet. I’ll keep it to remind myself of what we’re working toward.”

  Townsend’s eyes glittered as beautifully as the gold had. She’d probably never earned anyone’s trust, and Hennessy could tell she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

  “We’ll get there, Townsend, and when we do, I’ll put this necklace on you, and kiss your sweet neck.”

  “Oh, damn, why can’t the days move faster?”

  “We need this time to grow up some more. You need to work on your sobriety, and I need to work on letting my libido come out and play. It’s time to start letting my body feel pleasure, so I’m ready for you when you’re ready for me.”

  Townsend grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her to the ground, so they were lying face to face. The glow of the fire reflected in her eyes, sparking with intensity.

  “Do you love me?” Townsend demanded.

  Hennessy’s eyes closed as she searched her heart for the truth. There was only one answer, and she was more sure of it than anything in her life. “I do. I love you with all my heart.”

  Townsend placed her head on Hennessy’s chest and held on tight. “I can hear your heartbeat,” she murmured.

  “I’m a little anxious. Or frightened. We’re moving awfully quickly.”

  “No, we’re not,” Townsend soothed. “We’re taking tiny baby steps. I think it’s time for another. You told me that once we were sure we were in love we could start to kiss. I think it’s time.”

  “Uhm…” H
ennessy’s heart was beating like a drum. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I want to—God, do I want to. But I’m afraid of rushing it.”

  “It’s Christmas, and you’re the best present I’ve ever received. I think we need to celebrate with just one kiss. One kiss to carry us until June, when I’m going to gobble you up.”

  “Until you have a year’s sobriety,” Hennessy reminded her. “Don’t be too fixated on the day. That’s an easy way to lose the path. You really do have to take it one day at a time.”

  “Fine. Then let’s celebrate Christmas and our love.”

  “Just one kiss?” She could feel herself wavering. Townsend was fiendishly good at pushing her just past where she wanted to stay.

  “Just one,” Townsend promised. “But it’s gotta be a good one. No cheating like you usually do, with those little pecks on the forehead. I need a real kiss to last me until I have a year of sobriety, whenever that may be.”

  “Good girl,” Hennessy beamed. “Okay, I guess this is a pretty momentous occasion. Want me to start, or would you rather lead?”

  “You start. You need the practice.”

  Smiling nervously, Hennessy pushed up until they were sitting next to one another. Then she put her arms around her and stayed close for a minute, getting used to being in charge. It was different—better—than always feeling like she was back on her heels. She took Townsend in, letting her eyes roam over her smooth skin, sparkling eyes, and pouty lips. Lips that seemed to pull her in like a magnet.

  “I love you, Townsend,” she whispered as her eyes closed. Leaning in just an inch, she pressed their lips together, amazed at the tender, enveloping softness of Townsend’s mouth.

  She tasted like the sea, fresh and salty, but the overwhelming sensation was the warmth, the tenderness that filled Hennessy’s heart. Without thinking, her lips parted as Townsend’s tongue slipped inside. A rush of feeling pulsed through Hennessy, with a tingling charge starting at the top of her head and skittering down as she absorbed Townsend’s scent, and the lush feel of her body as it trembled in her arms.