Rum Spring (5 page)

“I’ll take one.” Rebecca reached for one of the cups, leaving Marian to two-fist the other drinks.

“That’s the spirit. Drink up, simmie.” Marian raised one cup in a toast before leaving to greet a group of newcomers.

Rebecca took a sip of her fresh drink. Dylan reached up to wipe away the drops of Windex-blue alcohol clinging to Rebecca’s upper lip, but Rebecca slapped her hand away. “I can do it,” she said defiantly. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need you to look after me.”

Dylan was stung by the vehemence behind Rebecca’s words. “Maybe you ought to slow down a little.”

Rebecca downed half her drink in one long swallow. Then she swayed as if the wind rustling the corn stalks were a nor’easter instead of a gentle breeze. “I’m confused. If you like girls, who’s Willie?”

“My best friend.”

“Your best friend is a boy?”

“Willie may dress like a boy from time to time, but, underneath the clothes, she’s all girl.”

“Is she your girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Then why did you let Marian think Willie was more than a friend?”

“Because my personal life is none of Marian’s business. And I don’t want her to make assumptions about you based on what she knows about me.”

“Oh.”

Dylan watched Rebecca try to process the information she had just been provided. She understood Rebecca’s obvious eagerness to get wasted. It couldn’t be easy to have everything be so brand new. To have every experience be one you had never undergone before.

From the looks of things, Rebecca was about to experience something else—her first hangover.

Rebecca’s lips went from blue to green to gray. She shivered despite the intense heat generated by the blazing bonfire.

“Are you okay?”

Rebecca pressed a hand to her stomach. “I think I’m going to be sick.” She barely got the words out before she bent over double and spewed blue liquid on the ground.

“There goes another one!” Marian yelled, prompting a round of mock cheers.

Dylan rubbed Rebecca’s back but made sure to stay out of the line of fire. “Better?” she asked after Rebecca purged the contents of her stomach a second time.

“I think so.” Rebecca wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, nearly spilling the rest of her drink all over her borrowed blouse.

Dylan took the plastic cup out of Rebecca’s trembling hands and dashed the contents on the ground. “Let’s get you something a little less potent.” They made their way over to the concession stand. “How much for a bottle of water?”

One of the boys reached into a nearby cooler and pulled out a bottle of spring water. “Five bucks,” he said, setting the bottle on the counter.

Dylan did a double take. Earlier, she had seen a sign saying water was only a dollar. She had thought the prices would go down as the night wore on. They had multiplied instead. “You’re shitting me.”

“I shit you not. It’s all about supply and demand. They’re demanding and my supply is dwindling. E makes you thirsty, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.”

“I’ll make you a deal.” The boy’s eyes drifted from Dylan to Rebecca and back again. “Make out with her and I’ll give you the water for free.”

Dylan pulled a $5 bill out of her pocket and slapped it on the counter. “Sorry. I don’t do floor shows.” She handed Rebecca the bottle of water. “Let’s go home.”

Dylan looked in the refrigerator. “Are you hungry? We have some leftover spaghetti. I’ll split it with you if you like.”

“Yes, please.” Freshly showered and changed into a T-shirt and a pair of Dylan’s pajama bottoms, Rebecca felt like a new person. No, she felt like herself instead of a simmie who didn’t know when enough was enough. “What time will your parents be home?”

Dylan put the plastic container of spaghetti in the microwave. “They’ll call the house phone before my curfew to make sure I’m here, then they’ll probably show up a half hour later. That’s their usual pattern anyway. Did you have fun tonight?”

Rebecca watched the food spin around on the carousel. “Before or after I threw up?”

“Before.”

“I liked being with you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It’s not, but thank you. I liked being with you, too.” Dylan took the spaghetti out of the microwave, gave it a quick stir, and sprinkled Parmesan cheese on top. She grabbed two forks out of the cutlery drawer and handed one to Rebecca. “What would you like to drink? We’ve got water, soda, juice, and lemonade. No Blue Hawaii, though.”

Rebecca wadded up a napkin and tossed it at the back of Dylan’s head.

Dylan tossed it back. “Nice arm, but we need to work on your aim.” She grabbed two bottles of water and set them next to the plate of spaghetti. They ate standing next to the island in the center of the kitchen.

When Dylan licked spaghetti sauce off her lips, Rebecca flashed back to the day two years before when Dylan had almost kissed her. What would have happened if they had kissed? Would their lives be drastically different or would they be the same? Rebecca couldn’t change the past. She could only hope to learn from it. Her faith said Dylan and people like her should change their ways or remain celibate. They should live a life without love. But how could love—in any form—be wrong?

“Kiss me.”

Dylan’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Kiss me.”

“Are you sure?”

Rebecca met and held Dylan’s gaze. “Rumspringa is about pushing your boundaries. Isn’t that what you said? I want to push mine. Will you help me?”

“Gladly.”

Dylan put her hands on Rebecca’s waist and pulled her closer. When their lips met, Rebecca felt her body come to life. Dylan’s lips were soft and warm. They were amazing. No, miraculous was a better word. She circled her arms around Dylan’s neck as Dylan’s hands slowly slid up and down her back. Chills ran down Rebecca’s spine. Did kissing a boy feel this good? Or could she feel this way only when Dylan Mahoney’s lips were pressed against hers?

When Dylan pulled away, Rebecca felt a part of herself go with her. She couldn’t believe what she had just done. And she couldn’t wait to do it again.

“Have you ever seen Lady and the Tramp?” Dylan asked. “It’s an animated Disney film about a pampered cocker spaniel and the streetwise mutt she befriends. It’s not the first movie that comes to mind when I think of romantic scenes, but there’s one scene in particular that— Well, it’s better if I show you. Follow my lead.”

Dylan picked up a spaghetti noodle and put one end in her mouth. She directed Rebecca to take the other end. They slowly worked their way through the noodle until their lips met in a kiss.

“That kiss was even better than the first one.” When Rebecca lowered her eyes, Dylan put a finger under Rebecca’s chin and tilted her head up. “You’re safe here. You don’t have to hide how you feel. You don’t have to be scared. Not with me. I will protect you.”

Rebecca desperately wanted to believe Dylan’s words were true, but how could they be? If word of her behavior were to get back to her family, the impact could be devastating. She hadn’t yet been baptized so she couldn’t be shunned, but she was still subject to her father’s will. If he forbade her from seeing Dylan, she would have no choice but to comply.

“That would be my parents,” Dylan said when the phone rang. She gave Rebecca a quick kiss, then crossed the room and picked up the phone. She quickly filled her mother in on her evening, assured her everything was fine, and returned to Rebecca.

“Do your parents really know about you?” Rebecca asked.

“Yes, they do.”

“What did they say when you told them you were going out with me tonight?”

“They told me there was no way you could feel the same way about me as I do about you. If you tell me you could live the rest of your life without kissing me again, maybe I’ll believe them.”

Rebecca replayed their first kiss. And the second. And the third. “I don’t think I could live five more minutes.”

“Neither could I.”

“When did you first realize you liked girls?”

“I was seven. I had a crush on the librarian at my elementary school. She didn’t feel the same way, but I think she did have a bit of a soft spot for me. She used to try to teach me about the Dewey Decimal System. I never learned how to catalog books, but I did learn one very important thing: I loved the way her legs looked in fishnet stockings.”

A librarian. Surrounded all day by thousands of books. To Rebecca, it sounded like the most wonderful job in the world. She wondered what she would have to do to get a job like that. She knew she would have to go back to school, but for how long? And how much would it cost? She enjoyed working at the bakery but she didn’t want to do it forever. Before she met Dylan, she had never allowed herself to dream such things. Now dreams were her constant companion.

Dylan pulled a pint of butter pecan ice cream out of the freezer. “Sweets for the sweet.” She fed Rebecca a spoonful of ice cream. “Am I the only girl you’ve ever wanted to kiss?”

Rebecca savored the luxurious sweetness of the ice cream before swallowing it down. She immediately opened her mouth for more. “I’ve kissed other girls before.”

“The way you kissed me?”

“Of course not, silly.”

“Did you like kissing me?”

“Yes.” Rebecca’s stomach felt funny. She couldn’t determine if the cause was the alcohol she had drunk, the strange food she had just eaten, or Dylan Mahoney standing so close.

“Can you still be friends with me knowing what you do about me?”

“My feelings for you won’t change, no matter who you choose to love.”

“Wow. I’m supposed to be the writer, but you have an eloquence I could only hope to possess.”

“Speaking the truth always sounds better than making up a lie.” Unaccustomed to staying up so late—her day usually ended at nine and began at four—Rebecca stifled a yawn.

“You must be exhausted. Let’s get you to bed.”

“I can help you clean up.”

“There’s nothing to clean up.” Dylan tossed the empty water bottles into the recycling bin, put the rest of the ice cream back in the freezer, and placed the dirty dishes in the washer. “See? All done.” She showed Rebecca to the guest room upstairs and kissed her good night. “Sweet dreams.”

Rebecca grabbed Dylan’s hand. Alone in a strange environment, she clung to the familiar. “Stay with me.”

Rebecca crawled under the covers and Dylan slid in behind her. “Close your eyes,” Dylan said, gently stroking Rebecca’s hair. Rebecca did as she was told. Dylan softly sang a lullaby several centuries old.

“What’s that language?”

“Gaelic,” Dylan said. “Grandma Siobhan, Mom’s mother, is from Ireland. She taught me that song when I was a little girl. She used to sing it to me all the time. Two verses and I was out like a light. I’d love for you to meet her. Even more, I’d love to show you where she grew up. Her village is filled with rolling green hills that go on forever. My family and I went there on vacation once. It was so beautiful I didn’t want to come back home. Sharing that journey with you is item number five on The List.”

Rebecca rolled over in bed. She was face-to-face with Dylan, their heads just inches apart. “If taking me to Ireland is item number five, what’s the most important thing you want to show me?”

Dylan grinned. “We took care of item number one when you asked me to kiss you. I’ve been waiting two years to cross that one off.”

“And what’s next?”

Dylan grew tongue-tied when she thought of the entry on the second page of her journal. The experience she wanted to save until she was old enough to fully appreciate it. “I don’t think we’re ready for item number two yet, so we’d better skip to item number three. Would you like to learn to drive?”

“A car? You’re going to teach me how to drive a car? Your car?”

“My car is a stick shift, which is harder to learn. My dad’s truck is an automatic. It’s a lot easier to practice on. Next weekend, I thought we could go out to the country and I could give you a driving lesson. Would you like that?”

“Very much.” Rebecca wrapped her arms around Dylan’s neck and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, Dylan.”

“You’re welcome.” Dylan could feel Rebecca’s body thrumming with excitement. Adrenaline coursed through her own veins. If you’re not careful, Mahoney, she’s going to break your heart.

“Is everything okay?” her mother asked when she and her father stuck their heads in the room thirty minutes later.

“Everything’s fine.”

“So it went well?”

“It went great.”

“Then go to sleep. She’ll still be here in the morning.”

“Hey, Dad?” Dylan called out when he started to close the door.

“Yes?” He stuck his head back in the room.

“Did you get lucky?”

He grinned and turned to watch her mother walk down the hall. “Not yet. Give me a few minutes,” he replied in a conspiratorial whisper. “What about you?”

Dylan looked down at Rebecca’s sleeping form. “Give me a few years. Then ask me again.”

Rebecca stood under the shower spray until the hot water turned tepid. She loved the way the water felt as it pelted her head and streamed down her body. At home, she had to fetch water from the well and heat it on the wood stove in the kitchen in order to have a hot bath. At Dylan’s house, all she had to do was turn on the tap.

“Running water is my new favorite thing,” she said as she pirouetted in the shower. “No, kissing Dylan is my new favorite thing. Nothing is better than that, not even a sewing bee. Perhaps I should start a list of my own. Kissing Dylan would come first. Running water would be a close second.”

Laughing, she shut off the water and toweled herself dry. When she pinned her hair up, she felt her demeanor start to change. She felt herself grow quiet. She watched herself become plain. Her black dress and stockings were laid out on the bed. When Dylan saw her wearing them instead of the worldly clothes she had sported all weekend, would Dylan still think she was gorgeous?

Rebecca wrapped a towel around her body and gathered her things. When she opened the door that separated the bathroom from the guest room, she discovered she wasn’t alone. Dylan was placing folded clothes in a dresser drawer. How long had she been there? Had she heard Rebecca musing to herself?