by Fox Brison
Breakfast was hilarious. It was plain to see the three woman shared a special bond, one every bit as strong as mine and Sam’s. “So how did you two get together?” I waved my toast towards Kate and Shannon.
“I introduced them,” Elisha said proudly, accompanied by a chorus of huffs and jeers.
“You did not!” Shannon argued.
“Yes I did. It was my idea to get the ferry to London for a few days to look for-” she screeched to a halt, and bit into her bacon roll.
“Go on.” Shannon was relishing her sudden reticence.
“It was my idea to go shopping,” Elisha said with a smug grin, having thought about her answer and evidently coming up with what she considered a less embarrassing response.
“And was there a particular shop you had in mind when you made the trip?” Kate prompted. As an actor in this particular story, she knew the plot and the obvious twist.
“Asexshop,” Elisha mumbled.
“A what?” I asked, even though I heard exactly what she said. This was fun! Plus when Elisha blushed she was sexy and utterly adorkable. Damn, there I go again.
“Okay, okay I wanted to go to a sex shop, but was paranoid about being seen by someone I knew.”
“Don’t tell me you went to Soho?” I laughed out loud at twin looks of discomfit. “Why were you so desperate to visit a sex shop anyway?” I asked and a ball of tumbleweed blew across the table.
“I was dating a girl and we wanted, well, you know.” Elisha pulled on her ear lobe.
Is that a lesbian sign for something? I didn’t have a clue but I was blushing. Sam never really discussed the intricacies of her sex life, although I could hazard a very good and educated guess at what went on. I didn’t enjoy sex with Leo, but when I was on my own it was a different matter altogether.
“So instead of a sex shop we found this tiny little lingerie shop, a sort of low class Ann Summers,” Shannon expanded with even more astonishing detail.
“Low class Ann Summers?” I exclaimed. I didn’t know such places existed and it certainly made my imagination hurtle headlong into hyperdrive. I’d been to a friend’s Ann Summer party back in the day and that had certainly been educational. I blushed more furiously, having worked out exactly what Elisha wanted as the vision in my head grew more vivid and a lot more graphic.
Shannon gave one of those Dick Dastardly evil grins. She was glorying in her cousin’s squirming. “I mean we happened upon it completely by accident. Hidden away in a corner were accessories for every type of woman, including Big Boo here, who was desperate to buy her first-”
“Anyway,” Elisha interrupted. “The girl working behind the counter was our Kate. After being completely ignored I left them to it and explored. Once we purchased the items-”
“You purchased, you,” Shannon interrupted Elisha this time.
“Okay, I got what I wanted but Shannon left empty handed and all I heard for the next twenty four hours was how she wished she’d gotten Kate’s number. You have to remember this was before Facebook and you couldn’t find strangers on the internet.”
“Like you did,” I teased.
She chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, smart arse. Anyway, the next morning before Shannon woke I went back to the shop and got Kate’s number for her.”
“That’s true. I was too shy to ask, and to be fair I didn’t think I stood a chance. I mean look at her.” Kate tenderly kissed her wife accompanied by a chorus of ‘awwws.’
“A few weeks of increasingly frequent and longer and longer phone calls, Shannon took the plunge and invited Kate over,” Elisha continued the tale. “And Kate arrived with a rucksack and a dozen battered roses. She never left.” She winked at Kate. “And thank God for that. You should have seen the size of our phone bill!”
“That’s so romantic! So wait, you’ve been together for thirteen years ?” I asked.
“Yup. I was lucky that I found the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with at such a young age, unlike Elisha who spent her college years sowing her seeds!” Shannon taunted.
“Don’t you two need to be getting off to work?” Elisha fired back. She’d clearly suffered enough torment for one morning.
Shannon checked her watch and immediately swore. “Oh, shit, it’s Friday, I’m going to be late for the staff briefing!” She knocked back the last of her tea. “Come on, babe.” Grabbing their coats and bags Shannon bent down and kissed Elisha’s cheek. “This weekend is going to be gas.”
Which I had discovered meant so much fun, rather than what I first assumed. Gas. Wind. You do the maths.
***
“Do you want to have a rest before we go to the cemetery?” Elisha asked whilst pouring each of us a half cup of tea from what was left in the pot.
“No, I want to get it over with.” I took a sip and grimaced; it was too cold for my liking, whereas Elisha savoured hers like it might be the last one she ever drank! I was restless, and noticing my leg doing a tango all by itself she put down her mug, stood and gave me her hand, which I took.
Damn, which I clung to.
After a ten minute walk we were standing at the gates to Glasnevin cemetery. My Dad had reluctantly given me instructions on how to locate Maggie’s grave, nonetheless, after thirty-three years and probably several thousand burials I wasn’t sure how relevant they would still be. Some people find cemeteries eerie places, and I certainly wouldn’t want to wander through one at night... or at Halloween... during a thunderstorm was probably out too... and maybe remembering the episode where they resurrected Buffy wasn’t too clever either... but in general I found cemeteries peaceful, somewhere to reflect, to remember the good times and put the bad times to bed.
After a couple of missteps, we found the appropriate row and I carefully counted the gravestones until we were close to the one where Maggie was laid to rest. I faltered and turning to Elisha said in a hushed tone, “Can you give me a minute?”
She nodded. “Sure. Take as long as you need.” Squeezing my shoulder in solidarity and comfort, she handed me the bunch of flowers I’d picked up on the way. I continued alone, stopping now and again to look at what was written by families on the headstones of their dearly departed, until I reached the one that simply read:
Margaret O’Shea. Loving mother.
I stood there at first uncertain, before the words started pouring out of me. “Hi, Maggie, you never met me even though we spent nine months together. I’m your daughter, Brianna.” I began pulling up little weeds that were poking through the grey shingle in front of the headstone. “Dad told me they called me Brianna because you mentioned it was your favourite name. You chose well, they’re good parents. Thank you for making sure I had love in my life.” I paused and looked at Elisha. She didn’t see me because she was on a bench with her head leant backwards. The day had cleared up and was bathed in glorious spring sunshine. I was gradually growing to understand what was missing in my life, and it wasn’t fear of rejection, or the unknown. This inadvertent consequence of discovering her letter was something else I had to thank Maggie for.
“I’m happy. I have great friends, a wonderful family. I wish... I wish I could have known you, known if you were loved, known if you had happiness in your life...” I took a deep breath and placed the lilies on the ground. My hand was trembling, the cellophane wrapping rustling in the breeze. “I hope you’re not disappointed in me, I hope you think your sacrifice was worth it.” Touching my hand to the cold marble, I willed my words to be heard somehow, somewhere. I prayed the strong wind would carry it from my lips to her ears. Elisha was right. My heart was bursting with so many different and savage emotions, but the one that was most dominant? Gratitude. And something I didn’t think I would feel – love. I loved Maggie and what she had done for me, and I was sure that she’d loved me too.
“Thank you,” I whispered one last time. Overwhelmed, I turned and ran into the safety of Elisha’s arms. She held me tight and moving her hand tenderly up and down my back, protected me from the harsh
realities of this place and this time. I closed my eyes and inhaled her distinctive scent, her musky cologne, her citrus body wash, and the hint of peat. The sensation was on par with my Mum’s roast dinner, my Dad’s aftershave and the incense Sam burnt in her teenage bedroom. Interestingly, I failed to recall anything from my three years with Leo that could compare. Maybe I had been nose blind.
Or simply blind to the fact he wasn’t the one for me.
I was ready to take the next step on my journey of self-discovery because that’s what this had become. The tornado had transported me to the Land of Oz but I wasn’t prepared to say goodbye to the Yellow Brick Road, not yet, not until I reached the Emerald City. I snorted. I was in the capital city of the Emerald Isle, so maybe I’d already reached my destination. What favour would I ask of the wizard now I was here? Dorothy wanted to go back to Kansas, to Aunt Em and Uncle Henry. She wanted to go home.
I didn’t need to go home because standing here with my head buried into Elisha’s chest, it felt like I was there already.
Chapter 24
Elisha
I didn’t move a muscle until Brianna was ready to let go of me, and secretly hoped that wouldn’t be for a very, very long time. Eventually she lifted her head.
“Thanks,” she sniffed.
“You’re very welcome,” I replied. I wiped away her tears using the pad of my thumb, gently, tenderly, like her cheek was a butterfly wing made of the softest gossamer. She was wan and shadows masked her eyes. “How about a walk?” I proposed, taking her hand. “Jesus, Bri, they’re like blocks of ice!” And alternating between rubbing and blowing, I went about trying to warm them up. I’d heard somewhere the best way to do this was by placing them in between your legs - What is wrong with you! It was highly inappropriate, but all I could think about was my hand between Brianna’s legs and vice versa. I’m surprised she wasn’t roasting with the heat radiating from me!
“Where are we going?” she asked as I led her away from the cemetery.
“The Botanic Gardens are a five-minute walk from here. I thought we could have a wander and afterwards go to Molly’s the pub next door for a spot of lunch.” She didn’t refuse, but then she didn’t exactly accede either.
Her mind was still entrenched at the cemetery.
It was obvious visiting Maggie’s grave affected Brianna in ways I don’t think she even expected, and when I lived in Dublin the Botanic Gardens (with its swathes of verdant green grass bordered by beds filled with vibrant colours and the lazy River Tolka meandering through tree lined banks) was where I’d go to restore my equanimity. First stop was always the large rocky outcrop filled with alpines clinging like mountain sheep to the grey stone, a mini version of my home in the Ox Mountains. During the wet and wild winters I’d explore the restored Victorian glasshouses, buildings brimming and blossoming with not only colourful exotic plants that caught the eye, but an almost erotic aroma that brought to mind romantic nights on a slow boat floating down the Amazon. It was a lover’s sensual caress as you left your cares behind.
And Brianna needed to be transported to a beautiful place right now.
“Do we have time? Sam’s plane lands at four and I don’t want to be late. I’ve never known her to be so excited about a weekend away.” Brianna lifted herself from the unyielding apathy that dogged her.
“New blood?” I waggled my eyebrows.
She laughed but it was perfunctory at best. “Probably. She’s dated half the lesbian population of Essex and the other half she dated were exes of the first half, or so she was forever lamenting!”
“Ah the good old ex conundrum,” I chuckled. “I’m a slight anomaly in that regard. I may be the one lesbian on planet earth who can’t manage to remain friends with her former partners. I’m beginning to think there might be something wrong with me.”
“More likely with them,” Brianna shot back. She really was a sweetheart.
“I owe you a drink later,” I laughed. “I reckon my most acrimonious split was with a girl called Una. When I told her it was over I ended up covered in soup. She also crushed up a handful of breadsticks over my head in case I didn’t get the message she was a tad upset. A flock of seagulls, and not the eighties pop group with weird hairstyles, accompanied me home that night. I felt like the pied piper of Dublin!”
I hoped Brianna realised what I was doing because I was prepared to divulge every single embarrassing, cringe worthy, mortifying thing that had ever happened to me to see her genuinely smile again. From the moment we met at Knock Airport there was an unquantifiable spark between us, and after Westport I was sure Brianna felt it too. She was more than a friend, more than a colleague…
If I had the courage to admit it I’d say she was...
“Oh, Leesh, it’s beautiful!” Brianna gasped in awe at the spectacular display of bulbs encompassing every vibrant shade that welcomed us into the gardens. I could hardly contain the joy that blossomed inside of me when I saw the colour return to her cheeks.
“When I was working as a social worker, I’d come here all the time.” We walked shoulder to shoulder, our fingers still laced tightly together, and surprisingly neither of us seemed to mind. Honestly? My heart was performing a happy dance that would have put Mumble the penguin to shame.
I glanced across at Brianna.
The sun caught her hair enhancing its natural highlights, and the slight breeze gave the effect it was shimmering, whilst her floral perfume inflamed my senses. But there was no evidence to suggest that this moment was arousing the same powerful emotions for her as it did in me. She either had the world’s greatest poker face, or I was fooling myself.
Christ wake up and smell the roses, Leesh, I berated myself.
”I can see why. I get the same sense of serenity and safety as I do at home,” she said.
“That’s funny I wouldn’t have had Romford pegged for either,” I said, surprised. “No offence!” I quickly added.
She gave a bashful half chuckle. “I meant our home in the Ox Mountains.”
“That’s how I feel too!” I physically had to stop myself from joining my heart and busting a move. “If I was a little down about not being able to make the lives of the kid’s in my care easier, or when I grew frustrated after hearing another tool in the Dáil making excuses, I’d come and hang out here.” I inhaled sharply and ran my free hand through my hair. “Christ! Sorry, Brianna. After what you’ve just been through, the last thing you want to do is listen to me harping on.”
“You’re joking!” she exclaimed. “You’ve had to put up with my crap since I first stepped off the plane!”
We walked over a small stone bridge, and coming to a clearing we spied a squirrel going about his daily routine. Sensing he wasn’t alone, he froze, crouched down and checked us out with a cocked and almost knowing head before resuming his journey. He leapt in long bounds, zig zagging from one spot to another, covering the lawn in three seconds flat.
“What a happy chappy! Nature’s amazing,” she breathed. “That’s why what you’re doing is so special.”
“I just think it’s important for everyone to have somewhere away from the hustle and bustle, somewhere they can go to figure things out, especially children. When I was younger and realised hey, you know what, Leesh, you’re different and that’s okay, it’s okay to be you…” I smiled, a touch melancholically, because the memories of my realisation and acceptance were not always so pleasant. The way I saw it depended on my mood. Maybe it was the location and company because today it was through rose coloured glasses. I caught another whiff of Brianna’s scent, this time I detected jasmine. It carried an air of maturity and strength which reflected Bri perfectly, especially given the current circumstances. It centred me. “When I wanted space I’d go down to the lough and gaze across the water for hours. I’d sit there and breathe. This place,” I waved my arm expansively, “this place became my sanctuary in Dublin.”
“I guess the inherent desire for freedom is inside all of us. So is this what i
nspired the Free to Dream project?”
“Hmm?” I was hypnotised by a heron which landed on a willow tree opposite. He was magnificent, his thin legs holding him upright when they should have been bowed beneath his large body. His grey plumage ruffled in the breeze and he turned to watch us watching him, before ducking his head and taking flight once more, long wings lifting him into the air with no apparent effort.
“The camp. What gave you the idea to build it?” Brianna repeated. “I’m aware from my own recent experiences change is never easy, and this seems like quite the one hundred and eighty degree about face.”
“I’ll be working with disadvantaged kids most of the time, so not that much of a departure. Maybe ninety degrees. I’ve always had an interest in outward bounds camps, and earned qualifications in canoeing, kayaking and orienteering over the years.” I grinned ruefully. “But to answer your original question, I guess the catalyst was my dad’s accident.”
“It’s weird isn’t it, how one incident can kick start a whole different chain of events.”
“It’s just a shame those incidents are usually dramatic in nature! However, going home was the first time real time off I’d had in ten years, and the break gave me some perspective on my life and goals. Working in social services can be very rewarding but it can also be soul destroying and energy sapping.” We sat down on a bench overlooking a display of heathers. “When I started out I wanted to be a trail blazer making a difference, but instead I caught up in the system.”
“What do you mean?” Brianna asked, curiously.
“I barely had time to wipe my nose never mind blaze a trail, the case files on my desk were this high.” I lifted my arm above my head. “Everything we did was reactive, and there was little or no scope for being proactive. I would have to deal with families, sometimes six or more, all sharing one hostel or hotel room.”
“Christ, that sounds awful!” she exclaimed.
“It was, especially for the children living in those conditions. Most of them didn’t have space to swing a cat, let alone play or explore or do anything kids should be doing. Then when I came home and saw the community, like any other small rural community the world over, struggling to survive changes in laws, in people’s attitude… the recession… It made me think, what could I do to help my family, the kids and the wider community?” I grinned. “Funnily enough it was my mammy’s hard standings that sparked the idea.”
