I Made You My First (27 page)

I played the messages and reached in my purse for my cigarettes while I listened to each one.

After the last message
, I closed my phone and looked at Irish. “Judy’s with John. She took ten days off from work to spend time with him in Hawaii. She said that he’s still upset about what happened and she’ll call me when she gets home.”

Irish reached for my cigarette pack and now staring me in the face he said, “Would you do something for me if I asked?” I watched him as he held the pack of cigarettes in his hand.

“I already know what you’re going to say,” I said, sticking my tongue out at him.

“The wine too until we know for sure?” Now he wasn’t smiling.

I took a deep breath and smiled, “Of course, but you’re going to have to substitute something else in their place if I have to give up both.”

He grinned, “I’m positive we can figure out something you’ll find a fair trade.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What about dinner for breakfast?” Giggling, I ran for the stairs. Irish was right behind me, tickling me all the way to the bedroom.

Irish’s mom had planned a going-away dinner for us the night before our trip.  Irish said he’d seen some fifty wedding presents in the living room during his last visit.  He added that they were wedding gifts from all of his parents’ friends and his mom would send out thank-you cards after we opened them.  That felt weird to me but Irish assured me that’s what his mother wanted to do.  He said it’d be easier if we had the gifts moved into the truck that was already packed so we could open them in our new house.  I guess that was his mother’s suggestion.  I was a little nervous about finally meeting his dad.  London and Paris were also going to be there.  Hayden was still in Colorado, but his job there was ending next month and he’d spoken to Irish about visiting San Francisco.  I liked the thought of
one-at-a-time
meetings. 

Irish had told me on our trip to Las Vegas that Hayden was
gay, and also admitted that he was also his favorite sibling.  I was both curious and excited to find out the reason.

While he was talking on the phone with his dad, I decided to go upstairs and start packing.  I pulled out one of Irish’s suitcases from the closet and brought it to his dresser.  I began with his bottom drawer and worked my way up.  When I got to the top drawer, I found a five-by-seven-inch picture frame tucked neatly under his socks.  Aha!  The picture he took from John’s house and earned himself a black eye.

It was a picture of me taken when I was seventeen at a barbecue in my parents’ backyard.  I held the picture and smiled. 
I look happy
I thought and remembered that day.  Mom and dad had pitched five tents and nine of my girlfriends came to camp outside with me.  Dad had hooked up a stereo system with speakers hanging from the trees.  We’d had so much fun that night.  I set the picture upright on the dresser and continued removing Irish’s clothes.  I heard him humming to himself as he came up the stairs.  He stood in the doorway and looked at the picture, then at me, not saying a word.  He looked embarrassed, but gave me a nervous smile.

“So where did you have this picture before you hid it in your sock drawer?” I asked.  He slowly walked over to the dresser and picked it up.  I watched him carry it to his nightstand and proudly set it upright.  He turned and smiled. 

“So
I
sat there for the last two years?”  I smiled.

“You know that you’re crazy, right?” and I threw a balled-up sock at him.  He ducked, throwing himself on the bed.  I walked over and lay down beside him.  Irish was lying flat on his back across the bed, so I scooted up beside him.

“I’ve been out here so many times since my parents’ funeral, Irish.  Why’d you wait so long to talk to me?” 

He folded his arms behind his head and looked
 at the ceiling.  “I wanted to so many times, but I wasn’t ready yet.  I knew that you were going to stay with your aunt until she passed, so I gave myself that time to get my act together.” 

He looked at me.  “I knew when I finally got the opportunity to have you I’d only get one shot.  I couldn’t risk messing it up, so I waited for just the right moment.”  I could see in his eyes he’d thought about our meeting quite a bit. 

I touched his cheek with the back of my hand.  “What were you going to do if I thought you were some jerk and told you to get lost?” and I lifted my eyebrows biting on my bottom lip waiting for his response.

He rolled his eyes and grinned.  “I wasn’t going to let that happen.  I was determined to make you fall in love with me, no matter how long it took,” and he winked.

“Awful sure of yourself, weren’t you, buddy?” and I smacked him with my hand. Just then I felt
it
. I froze, searching the room for my purse. I slowly inched off the bed grabbing my purse while I ran for the bathroom. Irish watched me as he sat up on his elbow with a confused look on his face. I shut the door and smiled at the heavens. “Irish, would you put a dot on today’s date for me?” I wanted to squeal with joy. “And a glass of wine sounds wonderful,” I added as I giggled.

I heard Irish gently knock on the door. “
You’re sure?”

“
I am,” I said. I was sure he was just as relieved as I was. “I’ll meet you downstairs, love?” I breathed deeply before answering him, “It’s a date, Irish. I love you,” I said, wiping the ridiculous smile from my face. Life just became a bit easier and a doctor’s appointment for some big-girl birth control pills was totally happening in the near future.

I must have looked like a kid running down the stairs on Christmas morning when I saw Irish with his back to me folding laundry. I saw a glass of wine and my cigarette pack sitting on the counter. I didn’t wait for Irish to turn around. I simply walked to the counter and took a sip of
wine. I picked up the pack of cigarettes and walked over to the trash. I closed my eyes, giving them a peaceful send-off. When I turned around Irish was standing there smiling at me. I set my glass down and threw myself into his arms. I’m not sure which one of us had the biggest smile of relief but we’d both just shed several pounds of worry.

* * *

I decided to wear a dress to dinner. 
This would be another first for Irish.
  I hung all three dresses on the bedroom door frame so I could sit and view them individually.  As I sat on the bed deciding, Irish put his head in the room, covering himself with one of the dresses.  I laughed at him as he came and sat down by me.

“What’s going on here?” and he gave me a goofy
smile.

“I’m trying to decide which one to wear tonight.”   Now we were both sitting and staring at
the three dresses.

“Which
is your favorite?” he asked.

Bringing my finger to my mouth and tapping
it on my lip, I replied, “Well that’s a tough question.  I love the pink one my mom bought for me,” I dropped my hand and stood up.  Walking to the dresses, I reached for the green one and held it in front.  Turning to Irish and giving my hips a little shake, I said, “But my aunt got this one for me about a year ago and she said it made me look like a hummingbird to her,” I purred.  Irish continued to watch me and I think he was hoping I’d continue shaking my hips.

“Why did your aunt call you a hummingbird?” 

“Two weeks after I was born, my mom got really sick, and I can’t remember now what she had. Anyway my aunt came to help my mom care for me.  Because of my mom’s illness, she had to stop breastfeeding me so when my aunt held me in her arms to bottle-feed me, I’d flutter around her chest like a hummingbird.  She’s always called me that for as long as I can remember.”  I hung the dress back up, pulling the last one down. 

“This dress my dad bought
and gave to me the morning of my twenty-first birthday.”   I held it out in front of me fondly remembering the day.  “His favorite color was blue and he said when he saw it hanging in a store window, he broke all of his
man rules
and bought it.” I giggled, remembering his words.

“E
ach of these dresses has a special memory for you. That’s really awesome, Jurnee,” Irish said and lay down on the bed.

“
Yeah, I hadn’t thought about it before now, but I guess they do,” I said before hanging the last dress back up, walking over and lying down beside him.  Lying on our sides face to face, he put his finger on my chin.  Pulling my face gently up, he looked into my eyes. 

“You’ll look beautiful in whichever dress you wear,” and winked.

“Thanks,” I whispered. He stuck his tongue out and slowly moved it around his lips. I stared at the wet trail on his shimmering lips. I quickly locked my eyes onto his, trying to stop my body from responding to his erotic display.

“That’s not fair, Irish. Until I see a doctor for another prescription, we can’t risk doing any of that. Stop it, please.” He reached for my face, gently rubbing my cheek with his hand. “Jurnee, we can work around that. We can do other things.” I must have had a blank stare but was too embarrassed to ask what he meant. Luckily he continued so I didn’t have to ask.

“We’ll try different types of protection until we find one that suits us.  You don’t have to go on the pill, Jurnee.” My eyebrows slowly squeezed together when he spoke. He sat up on his elbow and smiled at me. Birth control had never been an issue for me because I wasn’t as sexually active as Irish but I had pretty much thought that all girls went on the pill to avoid pregnancy. “I can make sure we don’t get you pregnant, Jurnee.”

“Do you mean you’d use a condom?” Dear God he was serious. I didn’t give him a chance to answer. “Because I thought guys hated them and only used them when they were sleeping with questionable ladies? Maybe I need a twelve-step program for idiots but I read somewhere that guys referred to condoms as taking a bath with their socks on.” Irish’s head fell to the bed, laughing.

“What?” I slapped his shoulder. “Are you saying that’s not right?”

Looking down at my face
, he smiled. “You, girl, are worth every minute of my long wait,” as he pulled me down onto his body and hugged me. I wasn’t sure but I thought I heard him giggle to himself before finally rolling me over onto my back. Now leaning over me he touched his finger to my nose. “When we do decide to have kids, I want a little girl who looks just like you.”

“I want a little girl too only I want her to look just like her daddy. I want to sit back and watch you sweat when all the boys start hanging outside our house wanting to date her.” I gave him an evil grin.

“Well both my mom and dad are twins so maybe we’ll get both of those girls our first try” and he returned his own evil grin.

My eyes suddenly widened and my mouth dropped open in surprise at this information.

* * *

When we walked into his parents’ house, the smell was tantalizing.  The
 garlic bread in the oven made my mouth water.  Irish and I both hugged his mom and then he pulled me out into the living room where everyone was sitting.  Irish’s dad stood up and slowly walked toward us with one arm extended.  He grabbed Irish’s hand, pulling him in for a hug.  He then reached for my hand and kissed the back of it.  I smiled and waited for him to release it but he didn’t, he just held it while looking me up and down.

“I’m Irish’s dad and it’s so nice to meet you, Jurnee,” he said.  “Irish has told me so much I feel as if
 I already know you.”  He released my hand and Irish pulled me over to an empty loveseat and we sat down. 

Across the room Paris was sitting with a young guy I guessed couldn’t have been more than eighteen or nineteen.  He was talking to her but watching us at the same time.

London was watching some sports program on television and threw up his hand with a “hey, guys” as we sat down.  Irish’s dad continued to watch the program with him.  I looked around the room at all of the beautiful paintings and family pictures hanging on the walls. 
His mother must have decorated Irish’s house
, I thought.  Only moments passed and Irish’s mom called us all for dinner.

Memphis pulled out the chair for Mary and Irish did the same for me.  His dad began passing the plates of food around the table and everyone began helping themselves. London started the conversation by asking his mom if this was her mother’s spaghetti recipe or hers.  Mary smiled that it was hers.  Everyone
was chatting so I sat back and listened, pretending to chew when anyone’s eyes landed on me.

Paris was giggling about everything said and never did introduce us to her male companion.  Finally Irish’s mom said, “Paul, are your parents close by?” and everyone turned to look at the young man.

“No, they live in Utah; my dad got transferred there about a year ago,” and he reached for his glass.

“Where did you live before your parents moved,” she continued.

“My parents have a house in Spring Valley.  They’re renting it until they move back,” and he took a sip from his glass.

“Paul’s going to take me to meet his folks next weekend,” Paris added.

Irish asked Paul where he worked.  Looking at me, Paul answered Irish and then looked back down at his plate.  I ignored the uncomfortable moment and glanced over at London.  He was eating but still watching the television program between bites.