Chapter Fifteen
It was a couple of hours later, and Ruthie was lying on the couch trying to get some sleep after she and Peter had showered together. She had called home telling Annie that she was just too tired and that Peter was a little scared to be alone, especially with everything going on. Her mother agreed, and offered to bring over her pajamas and a fresh change of clothes. Ruthie declined, saying she had already taken her stuff with her in her gym bag.
Annie hung up the phone, and shrugged it off. Ruthie was old enough to take responsibility for her own actions, she thought. The two women had an agreement, and she knew Ruthie understood it was a solemn vow on her part.
Peter had offered his girlfriend one side of his bed for the night, but she politely refused, saying that while she wanted the relationship to continue and had enjoyed their evening, she wasn't quite ready for that final step just yet.
"Maybe some other time, Peter," she had said. "I appreciate your asking me, though."
"No problem, honey," he had replied. "I'll get you some blankets, and my travel alarm."
Ruthie headed downstairs, set the alarm for 7, and around midnight she finally dozed off (after Peter had gently tucked the covers around her. She made a mental note to herself to send e-mails the next day to her married siblings; Matt, Mary and Simon, as well as their respective spouses. She felt she had to confide in them just how much she and Peter were involved once more, but was worried the relationship was becoming primarily a physical one. She wanted to go back three years, when the two had linked up and had quickly passed the "puppy love" stage to an exclusive and loving platonic relationship as well as a strong friendship; and wanted to get some ideas on how she and her boyfriend could keep the romance alive. After all, she was going to tell her siblings and in-laws, a relationship was supposed to be based on more than just sex.
The next morning, just before seven am, Ruthie was awoken by the unmistakable smell of breakfast being cooked. She pulled off the covers and her nightgown, tied her tan-colored housecoat around herself, and walked into the kitchen. The meal had already been prepared and was now being served. Pancakes, buttered whole wheat toast, jam, honey, bacon, sausage links, a fruit bowl, juice, milk, and coffee - in portions just enough for the two of them.
"Good morning, sweetie," said Peter, grinning. He had already washed up, already dressed for school and just finishing setting up the table.
"Good morning, Pete," said Ruthie, a little stunned. "You really didn't have to bother with all that."
"Of course I had to, silly," replied Peter. "I love you, and I think it's time I started showing that to you. Besides, Mrs. Camden and Rev. Kinkirk are always making extra meals for me whenever I'm over at your place, and you always welcome me into the parsonage no questions asked. I want to return the favor a little bit at a time. Consider this breakfast your down payment."
"Thanks. It's not really necessary, but I appreciate it."
"No problem. And when you go upstairs, you'll find a bathing set I got for you. It's all natural stuff. Take all the time you need. Our linear algebra class this morning was cancelled because the teacher's wife went into labor last night; and so we don't have to show up at school till ten. I'd join you again and pick up from last night, but I have to do some research this morning on the Net for the People in Society project we're doing together."
"Right, I forgot about that. Hope everything works out for them. I'll join you as soon as I finish freshening up - make it 8:30. Thanks. Any more surprises?"
Ruthie was getting a little suspicious of Peter's motives.
"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise," laughed Peter. "We're still, about four or five weeks from Valentine's Day. Tell you what; each day we take turns, with Sundays off. We do something nice for each other, no matter how insignificant it seems. It doesn't have to be expensive, just thoughtful. On V-Day, I have something really special saved for you. I know you'll want to spend most of the day with your twin brothers for their 6th. As long as you leave a few hours for me, I don't mind. Hopefully, by that time, we'll get the spark back again."
"What do you mean, by that time?" asked Ruthie. She ran across the kitchen and gave Peter a French kiss. She released it then added, "Honey, you've already lit my fire. I don't know what took you so long!"
"After your miscarriage, I realized I might lose you," said Peter. "I was worried that after you got over the shock, you might blame me for what happened and never want to see me again. Honestly, Ruthie, I can't imagine life without you - ever."
"It takes two to tango, Peter," pointed out Ruthie, sitting herself down and selecting some pancakes. "We just know enough now, not to make the same mistake again. Now, if it's okay with you, enough with the mushy stuff. Let's enjoy this."
They finished a half-hour later, talking about assignments and what each family was up to. The final course was strawberries and cream, with which they took turns feeding each other then kissing.
As Ruthie headed upstairs for her bath, Peter called her back. He wanted to kiss her one more time. This they did while he ran his fingers through her hair.
"I just love being with you like this, first thing in the morning, no makeup or anything," he whispered to her. "I want this to last forever. I know it will."
'Yeah," she said, kissing him once more. "It definitely will. Now, if you don't mind, I really have to get ready." She grabbed her gym bag and headed back upstairs.
Ruthie spent the next half-hour or so taking a bubble bath and lathering her hair and the rest of her body with the scented oil soaps that Peter had gotten her, almost wishing he was with her at that moment. At least he and she were now on the same wavelength - he was worried about where their relationship had been headed, too. She realized that, him being an only child, it was even more important for him to have a special someone in his life and she was honored to be that person, despite her many self-admitted faults.
Were the last few months worth it she thought, as she dried herself off and started up the hair dryer? In her mind, it definitely was. Maybe she and Peter should have waited a little longer, but in the long run they probably would have started to have sex anyway sometime during that school year. With three of her siblings gone and a fourth living in the apartment, it was just her and the twins. Her parents were even busier these days, so no one in her family would have ever found out. For her part, Paris' lackadaisical attitude towards her son having sex was the equivalent of having a deck of cards that dealt nothing but blackjack every time - making the opportunity wide open. And for what it was worth, they were getting better.
Besides, had she and Peter picked another occasion or place for their "first time," they probably never would have found Rhiannon and Malcolm confiding in them, and the whole scandal surrounding Frank Henderson might never have seen the light of day. The trade-off for having had their privacy violated was a man being held to account for his many other transgressions. Had they managed to keep their secret on the other hand, a large number of children, many now grown up, would still be suffering in silence.
Ruthie finally finished with the dryer and looked at herself in the mirror once more. She ran her fingers over herself on the places where Peter had the previous evening, and wondered how a kid just a few months younger than she could treat her with so much respect and consideration. Was he overcompensating for lack of a father figure in his life? Or did it just come naturally to him? Ruthie shrugged and finally reached into her bag for a fresh change of clothes.
She joined Peter in his study.
"What have you got there, Peter?" she asked.
"Just some stuff - thank heavens for high speed. I've printed up a ton of stuff in that pile there, Ruthie. You can go look through it; while I take a look at the morning news."
Peter clicked on the website of the local paper. He gasped.
Ruthie heard his groan, and looked up at the flat screen. She saw it, too. Frank Henderson had been beaten by fellow inmates at the mess hall of the county jail, including two of his victims who had testified at the grand jury but were not deemed to have strong enough evidence to go to trial. Henderson was supposed to have been fed meals in isolation but a staffing shortage due to a strike made that impossible. He suffered a severe concussion and blacked out almost instantly. He struggled during the night, passing in and out of consciousness, but finally it was too much for him. He succumbed to his injuries and died at six am, hours after the print version of the paper had gone off the presses.
A whole minute of silence passed. Finally, Ruthie spoke.
"I can't condone what happened to him," she said, "but I'm not going to miss him. I might be able to forgive what he did to us, and to all our friends, and even Lucy. I can also understand his defending his mother's honor by killing his stepfather. But raping his sisters - that's something I can't forgive."
"I don't like what happened to him, either," agreed Peter. "But be honest, Ruthie: weren't you ever tempted, in the slightest to - you know?"
"Maybe I was," Ruthie said, slightly exasperated. "But that's one difference between you and me, Peter. We Protestants believe that temptation is not a sin; you Catholics do."
"Ruthie," said Peter, "before I moved to Glen Oak and I met you, Mom and I were only going to the local Catholic church because it was the closest church in the town where we were living; and even then only occasionally. Mom was baptized as a baby and confirmed as a Catholic when she was thirteen, but she stopped going on a regular basis after she concluded the current Pope didn't reflect her values - and I suspect many if not most Catholics here in America were disaffected even before the sex scandals broke open. As for me, I've only found this out recently, but I've never been baptized. After my Dad walked out on Mom and me right after I was born, she was going to but so hoped he'd come back she kept putting it off. After all, what parent wouldn't want to see their kid christened?"
"So, you're not Catholic?" said Ruthie.
"Right," said Peter. "I've always considered myself a Christian, but as far as the community is concerned, I'm not affiliated with any faith or persuasion. It was going to be my surprise for V-day, but since you brought up the subject, here it is. Since we know we're going to get married someday and your father and Lucy and Chandler have welcomed me as one of your own, I just wanted to belong to your church community on a permanent basis. I was hoping Lucy would do the honors, and baptize me. And if it's okay with you, I'd like you to be my godmother. I know it's weird asking my girlfriend to be my sponsor, but I trust you."
"I'm sure she'd be delighted; and I'd be honored," said Ruthie, grinning. She gave Peter a huge hug and kissed him. She let go the lip-lock after a few seconds, but kept her arms around him, adding, "But why didn't you tell me this before?"
Peter paused for a minute. He wasn't sure if he should give the diplomatic answer or the truthful one. He decided the direct approach was the best.
"I was going to tell you right after we surrendered our virginity to each other last summer," he said. "However, after we found out about Henderson, may he rest in peace, it just slipped my mind. With everything else going on at the camp and later at school, I never followed up. And I was going to ask Lucy last fall, but when she became a material witness, I decided to hold off some more. Then you and I took a break from each other, and I still procrastinated. It came back to me last night when we made love in the shower. I knew I couldn't wait any more.
"I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and when the time comes which I hope is not too far into the future, I will ask you to marry me. But I can't do that with a clear conscience unless I belong to a faith group. I know that Rev. Kinkirk married a Catholic, and Matt married a Jew - but at least their spouses have a sense of belonging to something. I don't, and I want to change that."
"Now I really do wish we had that bubble bath together this morning," laughed Ruthie. "All right, I'll ask Lucy just to be sure. Since you're past the age when most of our members take their Confirmation profession of faith, you'll probably have to be scrutinized by the deacons, but that's just a formality. All you have to do is choose whether you want baptism by immersion or sprinkling."
"Just a sprinkle on my forehead is probably enough," shrugged Peter. "Besides, I don't need water to be born again. I found God before I found you. I just want to make it official. But we can talk more on that later. Let's read up some more on this material before school starts."
Word of Henderson's murder spread quickly. It was the talk of the school cafeteria and teacher's lounges. Some were in a celebratory mood, while others were stunned at the violent turn of events. Peter and Ruthie were confronted by some students, but they were in no mood to talk about it. They waited until they got to the parsonage, where it was the topic over the supper that Lucy was serving. They had dinner alone with Jennifer and Charles, as Kevin was napping before his next shift and Sam and David were having dinner with their parents.
"I got paged early this morning about it while Kevin was doing the graveyard shift," she told the lovebirds. "I was there more for his sisters than for him. He had no faith whatsoever in the last few years or so, and after he was processed by the morgue his corpse was sent straight to the crematorium. His ashes were buried in a tiny plot. From what I understand, a lot of his victims are over there celebrating right now, pouring beer and whiskey over it. I don't condone it, but I don't blame them. By the way, Peter, I'd be happy to baptize you. We're booked solid right now because of a spurt in babies being born; but I can book you in for the second week of April. Ruthie, I don't see any problem with your being his godmother."
"Thanks, Reverend Kinkirk," said Peter.
"Thanks, Lucy," said Ruthie.
"By the way, Mom and Dad and the boys won't be back until late - like ten thirty or eleven," said Lucy, "if you get my drift."
The young man and woman smiled. After wishing Lucy and her children good night, they headed up to Ruthie's attic apartment. She fished out from her parents' collection a CD box set of the studio recordings of one of Peter's favorite songwriters: Gordon Lightfoot. She popped one of the disks in and gently pushed her boyfriend onto her bed, unbuttoning his shirt.
"My turn," she said softly, kissing him. They made out for the next hour, while recounting the funny moments they shared over the last three years and the moment each fell in love with the other.
After Peter left, Ruthie finally checked her e-mail. Only Deena had responded so far. Her message consisted of two sentences: "Tell Peter how much he turns you on. It works for Simon and me."
It was a couple of hours later, and Ruthie was lying on the couch trying to get some sleep after she and Peter had showered together. She had called home telling Annie that she was just too tired and that Peter was a little scared to be alone, especially with everything going on. Her mother agreed, and offered to bring over her pajamas and a fresh change of clothes. Ruthie declined, saying she had already taken her stuff with her in her gym bag.
Annie hung up the phone, and shrugged it off. Ruthie was old enough to take responsibility for her own actions, she thought. The two women had an agreement, and she knew Ruthie understood it was a solemn vow on her part.
Peter had offered his girlfriend one side of his bed for the night, but she politely refused, saying that while she wanted the relationship to continue and had enjoyed their evening, she wasn't quite ready for that final step just yet.
"Maybe some other time, Peter," she had said. "I appreciate your asking me, though."
"No problem, honey," he had replied. "I'll get you some blankets, and my travel alarm."
Ruthie headed downstairs, set the alarm for 7, and around midnight she finally dozed off (after Peter had gently tucked the covers around her. She made a mental note to herself to send e-mails the next day to her married siblings; Matt, Mary and Simon, as well as their respective spouses. She felt she had to confide in them just how much she and Peter were involved once more, but was worried the relationship was becoming primarily a physical one. She wanted to go back three years, when the two had linked up and had quickly passed the "puppy love" stage to an exclusive and loving platonic relationship as well as a strong friendship; and wanted to get some ideas on how she and her boyfriend could keep the romance alive. After all, she was going to tell her siblings and in-laws, a relationship was supposed to be based on more than just sex.
The next morning, just before seven am, Ruthie was awoken by the unmistakable smell of breakfast being cooked. She pulled off the covers and her nightgown, tied her tan-colored housecoat around herself, and walked into the kitchen. The meal had already been prepared and was now being served. Pancakes, buttered whole wheat toast, jam, honey, bacon, sausage links, a fruit bowl, juice, milk, and coffee - in portions just enough for the two of them.
"Good morning, sweetie," said Peter, grinning. He had already washed up, already dressed for school and just finishing setting up the table.
"Good morning, Pete," said Ruthie, a little stunned. "You really didn't have to bother with all that."
"Of course I had to, silly," replied Peter. "I love you, and I think it's time I started showing that to you. Besides, Mrs. Camden and Rev. Kinkirk are always making extra meals for me whenever I'm over at your place, and you always welcome me into the parsonage no questions asked. I want to return the favor a little bit at a time. Consider this breakfast your down payment."
"Thanks. It's not really necessary, but I appreciate it."
"No problem. And when you go upstairs, you'll find a bathing set I got for you. It's all natural stuff. Take all the time you need. Our linear algebra class this morning was cancelled because the teacher's wife went into labor last night; and so we don't have to show up at school till ten. I'd join you again and pick up from last night, but I have to do some research this morning on the Net for the People in Society project we're doing together."
"Right, I forgot about that. Hope everything works out for them. I'll join you as soon as I finish freshening up - make it 8:30. Thanks. Any more surprises?"
Ruthie was getting a little suspicious of Peter's motives.
"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise," laughed Peter. "We're still, about four or five weeks from Valentine's Day. Tell you what; each day we take turns, with Sundays off. We do something nice for each other, no matter how insignificant it seems. It doesn't have to be expensive, just thoughtful. On V-Day, I have something really special saved for you. I know you'll want to spend most of the day with your twin brothers for their 6th. As long as you leave a few hours for me, I don't mind. Hopefully, by that time, we'll get the spark back again."
"What do you mean, by that time?" asked Ruthie. She ran across the kitchen and gave Peter a French kiss. She released it then added, "Honey, you've already lit my fire. I don't know what took you so long!"
"After your miscarriage, I realized I might lose you," said Peter. "I was worried that after you got over the shock, you might blame me for what happened and never want to see me again. Honestly, Ruthie, I can't imagine life without you - ever."
"It takes two to tango, Peter," pointed out Ruthie, sitting herself down and selecting some pancakes. "We just know enough now, not to make the same mistake again. Now, if it's okay with you, enough with the mushy stuff. Let's enjoy this."
They finished a half-hour later, talking about assignments and what each family was up to. The final course was strawberries and cream, with which they took turns feeding each other then kissing.
As Ruthie headed upstairs for her bath, Peter called her back. He wanted to kiss her one more time. This they did while he ran his fingers through her hair.
"I just love being with you like this, first thing in the morning, no makeup or anything," he whispered to her. "I want this to last forever. I know it will."
'Yeah," she said, kissing him once more. "It definitely will. Now, if you don't mind, I really have to get ready." She grabbed her gym bag and headed back upstairs.
Ruthie spent the next half-hour or so taking a bubble bath and lathering her hair and the rest of her body with the scented oil soaps that Peter had gotten her, almost wishing he was with her at that moment. At least he and she were now on the same wavelength - he was worried about where their relationship had been headed, too. She realized that, him being an only child, it was even more important for him to have a special someone in his life and she was honored to be that person, despite her many self-admitted faults.
Were the last few months worth it she thought, as she dried herself off and started up the hair dryer? In her mind, it definitely was. Maybe she and Peter should have waited a little longer, but in the long run they probably would have started to have sex anyway sometime during that school year. With three of her siblings gone and a fourth living in the apartment, it was just her and the twins. Her parents were even busier these days, so no one in her family would have ever found out. For her part, Paris' lackadaisical attitude towards her son having sex was the equivalent of having a deck of cards that dealt nothing but blackjack every time - making the opportunity wide open. And for what it was worth, they were getting better.
Besides, had she and Peter picked another occasion or place for their "first time," they probably never would have found Rhiannon and Malcolm confiding in them, and the whole scandal surrounding Frank Henderson might never have seen the light of day. The trade-off for having had their privacy violated was a man being held to account for his many other transgressions. Had they managed to keep their secret on the other hand, a large number of children, many now grown up, would still be suffering in silence.
Ruthie finally finished with the dryer and looked at herself in the mirror once more. She ran her fingers over herself on the places where Peter had the previous evening, and wondered how a kid just a few months younger than she could treat her with so much respect and consideration. Was he overcompensating for lack of a father figure in his life? Or did it just come naturally to him? Ruthie shrugged and finally reached into her bag for a fresh change of clothes.
She joined Peter in his study.
"What have you got there, Peter?" she asked.
"Just some stuff - thank heavens for high speed. I've printed up a ton of stuff in that pile there, Ruthie. You can go look through it; while I take a look at the morning news."
Peter clicked on the website of the local paper. He gasped.
Ruthie heard his groan, and looked up at the flat screen. She saw it, too. Frank Henderson had been beaten by fellow inmates at the mess hall of the county jail, including two of his victims who had testified at the grand jury but were not deemed to have strong enough evidence to go to trial. Henderson was supposed to have been fed meals in isolation but a staffing shortage due to a strike made that impossible. He suffered a severe concussion and blacked out almost instantly. He struggled during the night, passing in and out of consciousness, but finally it was too much for him. He succumbed to his injuries and died at six am, hours after the print version of the paper had gone off the presses.
A whole minute of silence passed. Finally, Ruthie spoke.
"I can't condone what happened to him," she said, "but I'm not going to miss him. I might be able to forgive what he did to us, and to all our friends, and even Lucy. I can also understand his defending his mother's honor by killing his stepfather. But raping his sisters - that's something I can't forgive."
"I don't like what happened to him, either," agreed Peter. "But be honest, Ruthie: weren't you ever tempted, in the slightest to - you know?"
"Maybe I was," Ruthie said, slightly exasperated. "But that's one difference between you and me, Peter. We Protestants believe that temptation is not a sin; you Catholics do."
"Ruthie," said Peter, "before I moved to Glen Oak and I met you, Mom and I were only going to the local Catholic church because it was the closest church in the town where we were living; and even then only occasionally. Mom was baptized as a baby and confirmed as a Catholic when she was thirteen, but she stopped going on a regular basis after she concluded the current Pope didn't reflect her values - and I suspect many if not most Catholics here in America were disaffected even before the sex scandals broke open. As for me, I've only found this out recently, but I've never been baptized. After my Dad walked out on Mom and me right after I was born, she was going to but so hoped he'd come back she kept putting it off. After all, what parent wouldn't want to see their kid christened?"
"So, you're not Catholic?" said Ruthie.
"Right," said Peter. "I've always considered myself a Christian, but as far as the community is concerned, I'm not affiliated with any faith or persuasion. It was going to be my surprise for V-day, but since you brought up the subject, here it is. Since we know we're going to get married someday and your father and Lucy and Chandler have welcomed me as one of your own, I just wanted to belong to your church community on a permanent basis. I was hoping Lucy would do the honors, and baptize me. And if it's okay with you, I'd like you to be my godmother. I know it's weird asking my girlfriend to be my sponsor, but I trust you."
"I'm sure she'd be delighted; and I'd be honored," said Ruthie, grinning. She gave Peter a huge hug and kissed him. She let go the lip-lock after a few seconds, but kept her arms around him, adding, "But why didn't you tell me this before?"
Peter paused for a minute. He wasn't sure if he should give the diplomatic answer or the truthful one. He decided the direct approach was the best.
"I was going to tell you right after we surrendered our virginity to each other last summer," he said. "However, after we found out about Henderson, may he rest in peace, it just slipped my mind. With everything else going on at the camp and later at school, I never followed up. And I was going to ask Lucy last fall, but when she became a material witness, I decided to hold off some more. Then you and I took a break from each other, and I still procrastinated. It came back to me last night when we made love in the shower. I knew I couldn't wait any more.
"I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and when the time comes which I hope is not too far into the future, I will ask you to marry me. But I can't do that with a clear conscience unless I belong to a faith group. I know that Rev. Kinkirk married a Catholic, and Matt married a Jew - but at least their spouses have a sense of belonging to something. I don't, and I want to change that."
"Now I really do wish we had that bubble bath together this morning," laughed Ruthie. "All right, I'll ask Lucy just to be sure. Since you're past the age when most of our members take their Confirmation profession of faith, you'll probably have to be scrutinized by the deacons, but that's just a formality. All you have to do is choose whether you want baptism by immersion or sprinkling."
"Just a sprinkle on my forehead is probably enough," shrugged Peter. "Besides, I don't need water to be born again. I found God before I found you. I just want to make it official. But we can talk more on that later. Let's read up some more on this material before school starts."
Word of Henderson's murder spread quickly. It was the talk of the school cafeteria and teacher's lounges. Some were in a celebratory mood, while others were stunned at the violent turn of events. Peter and Ruthie were confronted by some students, but they were in no mood to talk about it. They waited until they got to the parsonage, where it was the topic over the supper that Lucy was serving. They had dinner alone with Jennifer and Charles, as Kevin was napping before his next shift and Sam and David were having dinner with their parents.
"I got paged early this morning about it while Kevin was doing the graveyard shift," she told the lovebirds. "I was there more for his sisters than for him. He had no faith whatsoever in the last few years or so, and after he was processed by the morgue his corpse was sent straight to the crematorium. His ashes were buried in a tiny plot. From what I understand, a lot of his victims are over there celebrating right now, pouring beer and whiskey over it. I don't condone it, but I don't blame them. By the way, Peter, I'd be happy to baptize you. We're booked solid right now because of a spurt in babies being born; but I can book you in for the second week of April. Ruthie, I don't see any problem with your being his godmother."
"Thanks, Reverend Kinkirk," said Peter.
"Thanks, Lucy," said Ruthie.
"By the way, Mom and Dad and the boys won't be back until late - like ten thirty or eleven," said Lucy, "if you get my drift."
The young man and woman smiled. After wishing Lucy and her children good night, they headed up to Ruthie's attic apartment. She fished out from her parents' collection a CD box set of the studio recordings of one of Peter's favorite songwriters: Gordon Lightfoot. She popped one of the disks in and gently pushed her boyfriend onto her bed, unbuttoning his shirt.
"My turn," she said softly, kissing him. They made out for the next hour, while recounting the funny moments they shared over the last three years and the moment each fell in love with the other.
After Peter left, Ruthie finally checked her e-mail. Only Deena had responded so far. Her message consisted of two sentences: "Tell Peter how much he turns you on. It works for Simon and me."