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“Good boy,” Mama said, nodding her head.
The attention was turned to Maria and Patrick’s botched proposal, and I was grateful for the reprieve. I got the pie crusts all put together and in the fridge to chill for a bit, then saw Mom and Gran Gran had the rest of things under control.
“Mind if we go sit in the back for a little bit?” I asked the women, saving Marie from Gran’s inquisition.
“Sure,” Mom agreed, probably feeling pity for the girl and her cherry red blushed cheeks. “We’ve got a few minutes while we wait for Pat to get back with those Cranberries. I still can’t believe we forgot the cranberries!”
I took Maria’s hand and dragged her outside, grabbing two coats off the back of the kitchen chairs on the way. It was in the low fifties, so there was too much chill not to put something on. Hence my shivering while Owen and I took our quick little walk earlier.
“There,” I said, closing the kitchen door behind us.
Maria followed me silently to the little firepit in the big backyard and sat beside me on the stone bench there.
“So?” I asked her. “What’s up? What did you want to talk about?”
She fussed with the pebbles on the ground at her feet with the tip of her sneaker but stayed quiet as she did.
“I—” She paused, cutting herself off. “Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t…”
“It’s ok,” I told her, putting my arm around her as if we were already sisters. “Pat talks to me about…just about everything.”
“Really?”
I nodded.
“Did he tell you about…about how we haven’t…”
She couldn’t even say the words.
“You mean how you aren’t having sex?” I asked her.
A big rush of air left her lungs and her shoulders slumped.
“What did he say about it?” she gushed. “Does he hate me?”
I chuckled and pushed the hair out of her face.
“No way! That boy loves you something fierce. He’d do anything for you.”
Those words alone seemed to release a weight from her shoulders.
“And Pat’s kind of on his own journey right now when it comes to the whole sex thing. He’s a red blooded seventeen year old, Maria. Of course he wants it. Like, a lot. But he respects you and your desires more than he wants it. He wants to respect your promises and respect God. Pat’s ok waiting. He said so himself.”
Tears watered her eyes and my heart went out to her.
“I want to, too,” she admitted. “Everytime we’re kissing and things just sort of…get out of control, and then I’m the one who says ‘no’ and I hate it! I want to be able to show him how much I love him in actions as well as words…but I also know that I want to wait until we’re married. It’ll mean so much more.”
Her expression seemed torn between the two sides of her desires.
“But what does it matter if we’re the ones right for each other? I mean, if we’re going to get married, does it matter if we just jump the date a little bit? Kind of like you did.”
I shook my head.
“Maria, don’t give in just because of the carnal aspect of it.”
“But you did,” she countered, but not in a vicious way.
The poor thing was shredded with her decision.
