Remember, It's Our Honeymoon

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Remember, It's Our Honeymoon Page 2

by Mairsile Leabhair


  Vicky’s emotional tears flowed easily into the tissue Yvonne had so wisely provided, as she laughed with happiness.

  Aidan and Vicky smiled at each other and together, holding hands, they walked through the line, dodging the rice the flash mob was now throwing at them. But when they came to the end of the line, their way was blocked again by Yvonne and several others, who began shouting “kiss her!”

  Aidan laughed and gladly obliged them; taking Vicky in her arms and kissing her so passionately that it took Vicky’s breath away.

  The employees continued clapping as they moved away, and the newlyweds jumped into Aidan’s waiting car and sped off to cheers of good luck and waves of goodbye. After they left, Yvonne began cleaning up the rice she had grabbed from the kitchen. Jerry and the others helped her. He thought he saw the glint of a tear in her eye, but what he couldn’t know was that Yvonne, though happy for her friends, was melancholy that it wasn’t she who was speeding off to her honeymoon.

  Samantha, who had stayed in the back, walked to the door and watched as her ex-fiancée left with another woman. Alice put her arm around the forlorn woman’s shoulder and asked, “Ready to go home, dear?”

  Vicky’s parents had volunteered to care for Samantha and her premature infant, while she underwent psychiatric counseling required by the military. It was either stay with Aidan’s wife’s parents, or risk having her new born baby taken away from her because of her post-traumatic stress disorder.

  PTSD can hit without warning, triggered by sight or sound, and cause the victim to act out in ways they normally would never do. Samantha had two episodes since being rescued, and Dr. Kline, St. Frances Hospital’s Chief Psychologist, who was overseeing her transition, didn’t want to risk her having another one around the baby. The first one had resulted in her stabbing Jerry with a knife, when they were in Syria. Staying with the Montgomery’s wasn’t an ideal arrangement, in fact it would be laughable if it wasn’t so ludicrous, but it was now her reality because she wasn’t about to give up her baby. Unless… unless she took her baby and ran away where no one would find them.

  ***

  The downtown area of Little Rock had been hit by a devastating tornado five days ago, that took a terrible toll on life and building. It happened on the afternoon of the day Aidan and Vicky were married, and they postponed their honeymoon to help with the devastation. Although the city stopped everything to handle the after effects of the tornado, not everyone was involved with the cleanup, because someone had to keep the country safe.

  “Tom Bradshah, Homeland Security,” Bradshah said into his phone. A native Arkansan, Bradshah sat in his office, frustrated that he couldn’t be down at ground zero, helping with the cleanup, but just as his wound forced him to sit at a desk, his duty kept him in his office. Before he was wounded in the bomb explosion, he was set to rotate to another office in another state, so all things considered; he knew he got off lucky.

  “Hold for Mr. Trenton, please,” the voice on the other end said.

  Bradshah immediately set up straight, and adjusted his tie.

  “Tom, how the hell are you?” Trenton asked boisterously.

  Former President Jackson Trenton was born and raised in Arkansas, and served as Governor twice before he was elected to the White House. A popular president, he served two terms, and now kept his hand in special projects known only to a select few people.

  “I’m fine, Mr. President, and yourself?”

  “Couldn’t be better. Listen, I’m in Little Rock this afternoon because I just to tour the tornado damage, with President Sherman, and I wanted to meet with you. I read your email about a possible Irish connection to this terrorist cell, and I want to discuss it more. I may have some insight on the subject. When can you come to my office downtown?”

  “I’m on my way now, sir. What precautions do you require?”

  “Nothing for now, though at some point, we may need to bring in Special Agent Cassidy.”

  “She is on her way to Ireland on her honeymoon, sir,” Bradshah stated.

  “And I hope that I won’t interfere with that, Tom, but you should be prepare to travel at a moment’s notice, and bring a weapon for Aidan.”

  “Roger that, sir.” Bradshah hung up thinking, that poor kid, she can’t seem to get a break.

  Chapter Two

  May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, and rains fall soft upon your fields. And until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

  After an exciting night of packing and love making, then a morning of repacking and wishing they had time to make love again, the newlyweds called for a taxi to pick them up, left Twister, their kitten, with Jerry to babysit, and were on their way to Ireland. Soon they would be in the land of the lush green, windy, rainy, sunny island of Ireland, the Emerald Island of leprechauns, rainbows, and pots of gold.

  Twelve hours later Aidan and Vicky landed in Dublin. After trudging through customs and renting a car at the airport, they could finally begin their adventure on the road, destination unplanned, other than where the road raised up to meet them. They had both slept soundly, although not comfortably on the plane, so they were eager to explore the island, and quickly made their way out of the city.

  Aidan had a bit of an adjustment, getting use to driving in the left lane, with traffic coming toward her on the right side of the road. That, coupled with the fact that some of the roads were much narrower, with no shoulder as a cushion, required more concentration than she wanted to give. Her irritation got the best of her a couple of times, as she loudly complained that oncoming traffic was jumping over into her lane.

  Vicky laughed, “Oh please, they were so far over in their lane that they had to be Americans.”

  Once Aidan accepted that the car was much smaller than her Mustang, and fit the road better, she relaxed and began to trust the other drivers. Of course it helped that she didn’t want Vicky to think she couldn’t handle driving a simple foreign car.

  They started off in County Kildare, exploring Naas, or as it’s pronounced by the locals, Nás na Ríogh, which means the meeting place of the kings, a place where King John himself, had held court on occasion.

  Vicky marveled at the local’s accent, and even tried to learn some of the brogue from the attendant when Aidan stopped to get gásailín, but she just couldn’t curl her tongue around the words. Aidan had no trouble with the accent, and the old gas attendant took up a conversation with her as she gave him some euros for the gas.

  Up the road from Naas, was the town of Newbridge. Located on the banks of the River Liffey, Newbridge was where the newlyweds spent their first night in Ireland, more due to the lateness of the hour, than anything else. They dined at a local pub, where the live music was energetic and the Irish stew, delicious. Vicky fell in love with their Irish soda bread, and Aidan with their stout.

  “It looks like we came at the right time.” Vicky noticed the influx of patrons, and it wasn’t very long before every table and barstool was occupied.

  “Yeah, it must be a really popular place around here,” Aidan added, as she enjoyed another sip of her beer.

  Suddenly the audience started chanting; “Sing, sing!” and the newlyweds looked around to see who they were referring to. It was a well dress woman in her fifties, enjoying a pint with her companion, two tables over from where Aidan and Vicky sat. The woman seemed surprised and shook her head, but the audience kept chanting, until finally she took another quaff of her beer and walked to the stage.

  “Excuse me, miss. Who is that?” Aidan asked the waitress.

  “Her name is Brona, and she is pretty famous around here. Perhaps you’ve heard of her?”

  “I’m sorry, we’re vacationing from America, and we‒‒”

  Vicky interrupted Aidan, and said to the waitress, “Of course, we’ve heard of her, how lucky that we just happened in here.”

  Smiling with pride, the woman said, “Brona lik
es to come back to where she got her start and thank her fans. You’re in for a real treat tonight, Yanks.”

  Vicky turned to Aidan and asked excitedly, “Honey, let’s stay and hear her sing, okay?”

  “Sure, sounds like fun.” Aidan agreed, “Miss, can I get another pint and some more soda bread do mo bhean, for my lady?” The waitress smiled and left to fill their order. Aidan scooted her chair closer to her lover, so that they were facing the stage together. Snuggling in close, Vicky put her small hand on Aidan’s leg and Aidan wrapped her long arm around her shoulder, both content in each other’s closeness.

  The stage hand brought out a stool and Brona, a tall, copper haired woman, with pale skin and hazel eyes, took the microphone from its stand and gingerly sat on the stool. She thanked everyone and led off with a traditional Irish song and then segued into a foot tapping, hand clapping, Irish jig. For her third song, she walked from table to table with her microphone, asking for suggestions. When she came to Vicky and Aidan’s table, Aidan offered up a love ballad, and then hugged Vicky close.

  The songstress smiled and said into the microphone, “A love ballad for the American’s. That’s an unusual accent; may we hear where you’re from?’

  “Little Rock, Arkansas, ma’am.” Aidan volunteered.

  “The home of your President Trenton, ceart?”

  “Yes, ma’am, that is correct. He’s a close, personal friend of my wife’s,” Aidan boasted, nodding towards Vicky.

  Vicky gave Aidan a lover’s pat on the leg, her diamond ring glittering in the spotlight.

  “Tá a fhios agam go bhfuil fáinne!” I know that ring! the singer exclaimed, more to herself than anyone else. Realizing she had slipped back to her native tongue, Brona countered, “I’m sorry, I said what a gorgeous ring you have there. Um..,” she looked closely at both women, “let me dedicate this next song to the ladies from America.” Brona slowly walked back to the stage and as she tried not to stare at the newlyweds, a battle she was losing, she sang a heartfelt love song that had Vicky’s eyes welling up.

  “My God, she’s a wonderful singer, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” Aidan was distracted by what the lady had said in Irish about Vicky’s ring. She recognized some of the words and they didn’t jive with what she had translated in English.

  Aidan had learned some Irish when she was a runaway teenager and ran with an Irish gang in Chicago. Aidan, who was always on guard when it came to her wife, found that whole exchange curious. But she soon forgot about it when she turned her attention back to Vicky.

  After dinner, the newlyweds were lucky enough to find a quaint little bed and breakfast on the outskirts of town that was still awake at that hour. As soon as they were shown to their room, Aidan and Vicky couldn’t wait to consummate the honeymoon with some intense lovemaking. It was as if they were trying to purge all the negative energy that had happened in their lives, especially over the last few months, and fill it with all the positive energy they possessed.

  “I love you so much, sweetheart.” Vicky’s tongue grew thick with need as she unzipped Aidan’s jeans.

  “You are the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen,” Aidan replied with equal lust as she practically ripped Vicky’s blouse open.

  “Please, I need you to make love to me like you have never made love before,” Vicky almost begged with urgency. “hurry darling, I need to feel you inside of me.” She had thought of nothing else all day and she could wait no longer.

  Luckily for her, Aidan would never deny her anything, but this request she couldn’t fulfill quick enough. Not waiting until they had finished undressing, the newlyweds quickly jumped into bed and Aidan soon had Vicky worked up into a pulsating, sexual fervor. So much so that when Vicky climaxed, she momentarily swooned from the ecstasy, only to recover in time to giggle her way through the last ripples of the orgasmic spasms.

  ***

  “Hello? What time is it?” The woman fumbled in the dark for the light on her bed stand and as she flicked it on, her husband groaned and shielded his eyes. “It’s all right, honey, go back to sleep.” Her husband gladly obliged.

  And then she heard the caller say, “It’s one a.m. and I saw it!”

  “Saw what?” she asked, having recognized who was calling.

  “The ring. The one he almost cut off my finger for.”

  “Have you been drinking again?”

  “You know I haven’t had a drink in over ten years. I’m telling you I saw it. Right there on her finger. It’s the same ring, all right.”

  “On whose finger? Tell me everything you saw.”

  “I was singing at the pub in Newbridge, and I asked for requests from an American, I think she was a lesbian because she was attached at the hip to this other woman like they were on their honeymoon or something. Anyway, the American requested a song and that’s when I saw the ring. It’s come back to haunt me,” Brona said desperately.

  “Now calm down, it may not be what you think. After all this time, I’m sure he’s probably sold it to a pawnbroker by now, and I’m sure that’s how the American ended up with it. You know he was always needing cash for his crazy schemes.”

  “What if he finds me? Oh, God, I can’t go through that again, I just can’t!”

  “Don’t worry, it’s just a coincidence. Besides, I won’t let that happen, you know that. Just stay calm. We’ll get this figured out.”

  ***

  The newlyweds woke to a cloudy, cold, rainy morning. But the bed was soft and warm, so they were content to linger under the comforter for a while longer, embraced in each other’s arms.

  “Good morning, wife of mine.” Aidan said, as she feathered her fingers up Vicky’s arm.

  “Good morning, sweetheart,” Vicky said sleepily, “You fulfilled my every wish last night, thank you.”

  “Likewise, and what do you wish for this morning, m’lady?” Aidan grinned, and tucked her hand under Vicky’s warm breasts, caressing it until the nipple harden, causing a sharp inhale from her lover.

  “Oh, yes, I wish that we could just stay in bed and make love forever.”

  “Your wish is my command.” Aidan leaned over and kissed the soft area between Vicky’s breasts. Then she placed her hand over the scar left from a bullet wound next to Vicky’s heart, reminding Aidan of how fragile life really was, and how fleeting time could be. She became still, lost in the thought of how close she had come to losing Vicky, the love of her life, her soul mate.

  “Honey,” Vicky said as she placed her hand over Aidan’s, “It’s all right, honey. I’m here, safe in your arms.” As if to prove it to her lover, Vicky slid her hand down to the cleft between Aidan’s thighs and inserted her fingers between the folds of wet skin.

  The reaction was instant, the groan was deep, and the need was even deeper. Vicky made love to Aidan in a slow, explorative, lustful manner that erased all thoughts of ‘what if’, and replaced them with ‘what can be’.

  When they did finally get out of bed, Aidan suggested that they take a shower together, which Vicky gladly agreed was a good idea. They grabbed their toiletries and clothes, and walked into the bathroom. But when they saw how tiny the shower stall was, with just barely enough room for one person to fit in, Aidan insisted that Vicky go first.

  “Don’t take all the hot water,” she requested when she saw how quickly the shower stall filled up with steam. The swirling mist seemed to give Vicky’s profile a more provocative presence, causing Aidan to change her mind, “On second thought, go ahead and use up the hot water, I think a cold shower might be more beneficial right now.”

  Vicky dressed in blue jeans and a spring blouse with comfortable shoes. Aidan dressed in blue jeans also, but preferred a souvenir T-shirt that she had bought in Naas, and of course, her boots. The shirt had four white sheep across the chest, indicating the four seasons of the year. All the sheep were holding umbrellas against the rain.

  Vicky looked up from the mirror, “You are just too cute in that T-shirt,
honey,” she said as she applied her makeup, “and I must say, those sheep are proportioned just right.”

  Aidan walked up and swatted Vicky on the butt as she winked at her in the mirror.

  They found their way to the dining room where they had breakfast with the owner of the B&B. She had prepared a traditional Irish feast of scrambled eggs, bangers, rashers, soda bread and black pudding. Aidan was interested in trying a little bit of everything and found the bangers, or sausage, had a less sharp taste than what she was accustom to, but the rashers, which was a thick cut of bacon meat without the fat marbled through it, was delicious. Being a meat and potatoes kind of girl, she could appreciate a breakfast that offered more meats than potatoes.

  While Aidan experimented with her food, Vicky quickly won over the owner, an elderly farm woman who also tended sheep and picked apples from their small orchard. Running the B&B was more of a government supplement then a desire to be a concierge, and quite a few farmers took advantage of it, by opening their homes to tourists for a tax break. For the tourist, it was a convenient way of seeing how the locals lived in their own homes, and a way to experience a real Irish breakfast.

  As they chatted, Vicky reached for a round black fried patty that looked like the sausage had been burnt. Aidan watch closely as Vicky took a bite, and a curious look came across her face.

  “Um, what is this? I’ve never tasted anything quite like it before?” she murmured to Aidan, trying not to swallow. She politely put what was left back on her plate and took a drink of orange juice to wash the taste from her mouth.

  “Do you like it, kid?” Aidan asked, curious about it herself.

 

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