Craving Resurrection

  I was comforted in a way that I had never been before. The relief in telling someone that I’d soon be homeless made the situation seem less in some way, as if just the telling had made things less scary.

  My body grew lax as he silently rubbed my back and the exhaustion that seemed to be my constant companion over the last week seeped even deeper into my pores. I wasn’t sure how he thought he could fix things. I’d looked at the problem from a hundred different angles and found no solution…but his confidence was a soothing balm on my nerves, all the same.

  As I drifted off with my face still pressed against his neck, I was overwhelmed with gratefulness that he was there. I also realized foggily that he smelled a little like Exclamation! perfume.

  Chapter 14

  Amy

  “Dey’ve kicked her out of de fuckin’ house, Mum.”

  “Is that the problem then?”

  “She started cryin’ straight off when I asked her about it.”

  “Ach. She knows she can stay here.”

  “Obviously not, since de poor girl has not even been gettin’ out of bed she’s so worried.”

  Their voices were low, but I still heard every word after Peg came bustling into the house after work. I was still in Patrick’s lap, and my legs were cramping from being in the same position for so long, but I didn’t want to move. He hadn’t realized that I was awake yet, and I was enjoying the feeling of one of his hands in my hair and the other resting low on my back.

  “Well, it looks like she’s gotten a bit of rest now.”

  “She was until ye came bangin’ in de door.”

  I jolted at his words and laughed a little at being caught. His hand slid out of my hair so I could lean back, and when I opened my eyes the only thing I could see was Peg’s face.

  Her jaw was set in a stubborn line, and her hands were on her hips as she stared at me.

  “We’ll pack yer things and move ye tonight,” she announced with a nod. “I’ll not hear another word about it.”

  She stomped off toward her bedroom as Patrick began to laugh beneath me, and I froze as his body jolted with his chuckles. He was rubbing against me in all the ways I’d ignored when we’d dropped to the couch hours earlier.

  “Well, that was…” I wasn’t even sure what to say. My bewilderment must have shown on my face because he suddenly stopped laughing.

  “Did I not tell ye I’d fix it?” he asked calmly, laying his palm against my cheek.

  “But why would she—”

  “If ye’ve not noticed, me mum’s adopted ye. Nuttin’ for it now. Yer stuck.”

  “But I can’t pay rent, I can’t even buy a toothbrush—”

  “Ye won’t pay rent.”

  I jerked my body away from him and stood, running my fingers down my ponytail. I couldn’t just live there without paying anything. It made my stomach ache to even think of taking advantage like that. Peg got along okay, but she wasn’t exactly rolling in it. Feeding another person would be a strain on what little money she had left over every week.

  “I can see de wheels turnin’ in yer head. Stop.” He rose to his feet so he was looking down into my face. “We’ll straighten it all out later.”

  Then he turned his head toward the bedroom and called out to his mom. “We need boxes!”

  “We’ve got some at the store.” She replied as she came back out, then glanced down at my feet. “Ye’ll need some shoes.”

  Before I knew it, we were in Peg’s small car and on our way to the grocer, where we picked up enough produce boxes to pack my entire room. With the boxes piled next to me in the back seat, we drove back to my house. Packing up my few childhood mementos and books with the help of two other people was surreal.

  I’d done my own packing for years as we’d moved from one place to another. My parents had always provided what I needed, boxes and packing tape and newspaper to wrap things in, but it had been handed over with the understanding that I’d do the work myself. We always rented places that were already furnished, so there was no bed or dressers to deal with, and the packing went fairly quickly. Soon the room was once again as bare as the moment I’d first stepped inside it.

  Peg left to cook dinner and throw my bedding in the wash, and I was sitting on my bed waiting for Patrick to come help me with the last couple of boxes when I heard my mother’s shrill voice in the hallway.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  I didn’t hear Patrick’s reply, but his thudding steps never faltered as he made his way back into my room.

  “Are ye ready, love?” he asked as he stepped through the doorway, my mother close on his heels.

  “Amy?” My mom’s voice was incredulous as she looked around the room. “What in the world?”

  “We’ve only got these two boxes left,” I told her quietly, my throat tight in apprehension. “I can come back and clean the floors and window tomorrow.”

  “No, ye won’t,” Patrick chimed in with a glower.

  “What do you mean? What are you doing?” my mom asked.

  I stared at her in confusion as she stepped into the room. “You said I only had two weeks, so I’m…” I flapped my hands in the air, unsure how to phrase my sentence in a way that wouldn’t set her off.

  “You’re moving out?” she asked accusingly, her eyes darting between me and Patrick.

  “Christ, woman! What did ye expect when ye kicked her out?” Patrick yelled.

  “I did no such thing!”

  My eyes watered as I stared at my mother and tried to comprehend what was happening. She had. She had kicked me out. She and my dad told me that I needed somewhere else to live. Why was she acting like I was the guilty party? Did Patrick believe her?

  “Let’s go, love.” Patrick said quietly, lifting his chin toward the last box on my bed.

  “Amy Jennifer Henderson, you’re not going anywhere!” Mom hissed at me, taking another step into the room. “Put that box down!”

  I began to shake, the tone of her voice making me question my interpretation of the events of the last two weeks. It wasn’t as if my parents had mentioned once in passing that I needed to find somewhere else to live. They’d reminded me every day that the clock was ticking, so why was she behaving as if she had no idea what I was talking about?

  “Go, Amy.” Patrick ordered again, jolting me out of my anxiety-induced stupor. I took two steps forward, stopping abruptly when my mother’s nails dug into my bicep.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but she didn’t get a word out before Patrick was there, dropping the box he’d been holding and gripping my mom’s wrist so tight his knuckles went white.

  “Don’t touch her again.”

  She let go instantly, her eyes wide as she stumbled back into the hallway and I was frozen in place as I watched her cradle her injured wrist to her chest. The situation was deteriorating so quickly, I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to comfort her, but she was staring at me as if she hated me even as her eyes began to fill with tears.

  Suddenly, Patrick’s hand was firm against the small of my back, and he was ushering me down the hall.

  “Your father will come get you!” she yelled to our backs. “Just wait until I tell him what you’ve done, you little whore! Get back here, Amy!” Mom screamed, completely livid as we continued through the house. Thankfully, Patrick’s presence at my side stopped her from following me, because I wasn’t sure what she would have done otherwise.

  I felt the tears roll down my cheeks as we hit the cold air outside, and I couldn’t help the shudder that ran through my body. Threats of my father’s wrath had been something I’d cowered from for most of my life, and it hadn’t magically stopped just because I’d be sleeping somewhere else that night. She’d been so horrible, and I didn’t understand it. I was doing what she wanted! I’d done everything she’d told me to, and she treated me as if I’d wronged her in some way.

  “She told me I had to move,” I said, glancing up at Patrick’s furious face. “I swear—they told me I
only had two more weeks.”

  “I knew she was lyin’,” he replied, giving me a reassuring nod. “She’s just mad dat she didn’t have de satisfaction of bootin’ ye into de street.”

  My breath stopped at his observation, her actions suddenly so transparent, it caused an ache in my chest. How could someone be that vindictive, I wondered, to be angry that they weren’t able to kick their child out with nowhere to go? Had she been expecting me to beg them to let me stay? I’d foiled whatever scenario they’d been envisioning, that was why she’d been so mad. It only made her threats about my father coming for me more frightening.

  Peg was bustling around in the kitchen when we walked in the door, and she didn’t notice us as Patrick pulled the box out of my arms and set it on the couch.

  “Ye don’t ever have to go back dere,” he promised, pulling me into his arms.

  “They’re my family,” I reminded him quietly. For better or worse.

  “Ye’ve got a new one.” His voice was resolute and a little bit raw, and as soon as he’d finished speaking he dropped his lips to mine, and kissed me hard. “I’ll bring yer boxes into de bedroom.”

  Then he walked away, leaving me reeling.

  It was all happening so fast that I couldn’t settle on one emotion before another popped up and clouded my head. I was grateful, so overwhelmingly grateful that Peg was going to let me stay with her… but I was confused and scared, too.

  Even though I’d gotten little from my parents over the years in the way of stability, they were still my parents. They’d still raised me from childhood and kept a roof over my head and food in my belly. I’d imagined finding somewhere to live and still being able to have some sort of contact with them, some kind of safety net—but my mom’s reaction to my departure was a clear indication that any relationship was gone. They didn’t want me.

  I’d known Peg for only a few months, and though she’d never given me reason to doubt her, I still knew in the back of my head that she could throw me out at any time and I’d be homeless in an unfamiliar country. If my parents—the two people that should have loved me more than anything else—didn’t want me around, why would Peg be any different?

  Chapter 15

  Amy

  “Amy, yer goin’ to be late!” Patrick yelled through the bathroom door as I smoothed my uniform over my hips.

  It was my first day back to school since I’d moved to Peg’s, and for some reason I was nervous. Peg had contacted the school to let them know that I was living with her in case my parents tried to cause problems, and I knew she was doing what she thought best, but the thought of everyone knowing my parents had kicked me out made me feel like I was going to be sick. God only knew what sort of stories people would make up about my living arrangements.

  “I’m ready,” I mumbled, brushing past him to get my bag.

  “Don’t ye look sweet and innocent.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Such a good little girl, on her way to school right on time.”

  “Shut up, Patrick!”

  “How many times have I asked ye to call me Trick? I hope ye listen better in class den ye do out of it.” His voice was teasing, and I knew what he was doing, but I still let him get to me.

  “Sorry, Paddy,” I replied, opening the door and sailing through it before he could reply.

  “Ugh, don’t call me dat.” He called, locking the door behind us before jogging to catch up to me. “Dat’s not me name.”

  His voice was so disgusted, I had to laugh. “Why Trick?”

  “Because it’s not Paddy.”

  “You’re nuts.”

  “I t’ought it was cool, okay?” Patrick replied sheepishly. “When I was about eleven, I t’ought it was de absolute best nickname in de world and I refused to answer to anyt’in' else for a year.”

  “An entire year?” The thought of a little carrot-topped Patrick turning up his nose and refusing to answer to anything but the name he’d chosen had me in a fit of giggles.

  “We’re almost dere, and if ye don’t want me givin’ de Sisters somet’in’ to talk about, ye’ll quit laughin’,” he warned as a red flush began creeping up his neck.

  The heat in his eyes left no doubt as to the show he was about to put on, so I pressed my lips tightly together in order to hold the laughter back. He was so… charming. Every time I thought I knew him, he gave me something else to think about.

  He’d also taken my mind off the nervous butterflies in my stomach.

  “Here we are,” he announced with a flourish as we reached the school. For the first time since I’d started there, I hated that the walk was so short.

  “Thank you, Patrick,” I said softly, leaning up to kiss his cheek before turning away and walking quickly toward the front door of the school.

  “I didn’t know ye’d be de one givin’ de Sisters somet’in’ to talk about!” he called after me, smiling as I turned my head to glare.

  I turned back around and reached up as if to smooth down the back of my hair with my left hand, curling my pointer finger down as I did so, flipping him off as secretly as I could. A smile spread across my face as I heard him roar with laughter behind me.

  “Dat’s not how we do it here!” I lifted the pointer back up, and as I walked into the building I heard him yell, “Dere it is!” as one of the Sisters shushed him.

  ***

  School was pretty much as I’d suspected. People were talking about me. I heard the whispers in the restrooms when girls didn’t know that I was there…but surprisingly, everyone left me alone. I got the impression that the girls were almost in awe of me, which made very little sense. They hadn’t given two shits that I was some exotic American when I’d first started, and I couldn’t find a reason why moving out after I’d turned eighteen would garner any more of a reaction.

  It wasn’t until the second week of Patrick walking me to school that I finally understood what the fuss was about.

  “Hello, Trick,” one of the popular girls called flirtatiously as she passed me and Patrick in front of the school. We’d started waiting at the front of the school until the very last minute before we parted ways. I think he was growing anxious about leaving Ballyshannon, his trip home already longer than he’d planned.

  He nodded to her with a smile, and I clenched my teeth so hard I heard my jaw pop.

  “What the fuck was that?”

  “What?” He looked at me as if I’d grown two heads. “Caitlin?”

  “You know her?”

  “We’ve met. Yes.” His voice became amused, and rather than kicking him in the nuts like I wanted to, I tried to spin away. It was an overreaction to a frigging head nod, but it rankled just the same. I couldn’t seem to stop the wave of jealousy that rolled over me.

  We’d been cocooned in our own little bubble for over a week, and it had given me an unrealistic view of our relationship. In our bubble, it was just me, Patrick, Peg and sometimes Kevie. Up until that point, I hadn’t had to deal with other girls vying for his attention, and knowing that Caitlin had probably known him much longer than I had made me green.

  It was completely illogical, but that didn’t make it any less real. I was the one sleeping in his bed—though he slept on the couch. I was the one who was learning to make his favorite foods. I was the one helping Peg string up his boxers and undershirts to dry in the small backyard. I knew him better than anyone, and it pissed me off that Caitlin thought she could flirt with him right in front of me. Even worse, he let her.

  He was mine.

  “Amy? What is it?” He wrapped his arm around my waist, causing one of the nuns to glare at us. “Why are ye angry?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Ye are.” He turned me around and searched my face for a moment before grinning slyly. “Yer jealous.”

  “I am not!”

  “Oh, yes. Ye are. And ye’ve no reason to be.” He grabbed my hand and started tugging me down the sidewalk away from the school. No matter how hard I tried to pull aw
ay, his grip didn’t let up, and soon we’d made it around the corner and into an alleyway.

  “I’m going to be late!”

  He didn’t answer me, but as soon as the last word left my lips, his mouth was on mine, his hands digging into my hair. His tongue licked inside, rubbing against my own, and I groaned as my body relaxed into his.

  “Ye’ve no reason to be jealous,” he told me between kisses. “I want ye.”

  “Then why haven’t you kissed me in over a week?” I asked breathlessly. Our hands were roaming over anything we could reach without disrupting our clothing, and I somehow found myself pushed against the cold brick behind me as his hips ground into mine.

  “Can ye imagine it?” he groaned into my neck, running his hands just under where my skirt met my thighs. “If I touch ye in de house, while no one’s around? Dere’ll be no stoppin’ us den.”

  “Good,” I whispered, running my hand down his back.

  “No.” His hands found mine where they’d begun digging into his ass, and brought them up, pinning my wrists at each side of my head. “We’ve talked about dis.”

  “That doesn’t mean I agree with it!”

  “Ye’ll not give yer virginity away like a whore wit’out me ring on yer finger,” he replied darkly.

  I gasped in shock, and if he hadn’t been pinning my hands, I would have hit him.

  “You’re such an asshole!”

  “Would ye like to know how I know Caitlin?” he asked angrily. “Everyone knows her.”

  “I hate you.”

  “Ye love me, and ye’ll marry me. All I’m askin’ is for ye to fuckin’ wait.”

  “Wait? Will you be waiting? You’ve obviously had sex already!” An emotion I couldn’t place flashed over his face before it turned to a glare. He refused to give an inch, and I felt myself grow angrier and angrier until I couldn’t stop the words that spilled from my mouth. “That’s bullshit and you know it,” I said, the words low and mean. “Maybe we should just stop what we’re doing right now and we’ll meet again on an even playing field.”