Thank God for Irish Women Ch. 02

Author's Note: Unlike the first chapter, there are some mildly sexual scenes in this chapter.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

It was drizzling rain, and I saw on the early news that Nashville continued to have flooding problems from the Cumberland River. There was heavy damage to many homes and businesses, including the Grand Ole Opry building, over the last six days. On May 1st and 2nd, more than 19 inches of rain had fallen there, resulting in widespread flooding that took the lives of ten people.

I had wanted to stop on the way to Des Moines and attend an Opry show. Their website said the performances were being moved to the old Ryman Auditorium where the Opry was performed for many years. I clicked on the ticket link and found that the May 14th show was sold out. I was disappointed but at least we could stop and see the city, the Country Music Hall of Fame and famous Music Row.

I found two rooms at the Best Western Hotel, which was up the hill from all the famous bars like Tootsie's Orchid Lounge and the music shops. I booked them for that night. The plan was to stop there our first night on the road, as it was only four hours from Atlanta.

My strategy, with Emily tagging along, was to reserve hotel rooms the morning we needed them since I had no idea where Emily would like to stop along the way. We had ample time to drive to Silicon Valley.

At 7:30, I heard her shower come on and Emily came out thirty minutes later. She wore her usual tight jeans and a Grateful Dead t-shirt.

"Good morning, Matt."

"Good morning. I like your t-shirt."

"Thanks. It was my mom's. She was a deadhead and went to many concerts. They began in Palo Alto very near where we lived. She actually knew Jerry Garcia and Bob Weir. Mom said my dad played with them for a while, mostly filling in. Do you like their music?"

"Some of it. They were talented musicians, kind of weird but in a fun way. I'm more of a modern country music fan."

"Yuck! I can't believe it. Country music? All that nasal twang and people with terrible voices? Banjo's and steel guitars? Give me a break." She grinned and I realized she was pulling my chain to get a reaction.

"You're thinking about the old style bluegrass and mountain music. The Grateful Dead also played music similar to bluegrass and I know Garcia played the banjo."

"Yeah, but they were cool."

"Country music today is very good with talented musicians, singers, and songwriters."

She stared at me with a doubtful smirk. "I just can't get into it but we'll see."

"I was wondering if you'd like to do something today."

"Like what?" she asked.

"Atlanta has a terrific zoo and one of the largest aquariums in the world. Coca-Cola is based here, and their visitor center has a museum that's very interesting. It's close to the aquarium. The historic Varsity drive-in is a must, although it's not healthy eating. We have a few days so we could do just one thing a day."

"That's better than sitting here and dwelling on my problems, I suppose."

"I think so. I'd like to get your mind off it as much as possible."

"I wish you could, but it's going to take time." She walked to the coffeemaker and then joined me on the sofa with her cup.

"I don't know how you deal with everything you've been through."

"I don't have a choice. I must deal with it."

After a moment of sipping coffee, she asked, "Haven't you seen all of the touristy places by now?"

"Most of them, but now's a good time to do it again before I leave. I've been focused on the thesis and just wanted to crash or hang out with a few friends when I could."

"Do you mind if I go to the gym with you this morning? I need to get back into an exercise regimen."

"I'd like that. The gym is in the basement of the building next door."

"That's convenient. I have knit shorts and a well-worn t-shirt that I've always used at home. Would that work?"

"That's what I normally wear. Let's get our exercise in and go to breakfast."

"Sounds great." She returned to her bedroom to change while I did the same.

****

The gym was dark when we arrived; but I had a key and turned on the lights. Emily was surprised. "This is a very well-equipped facility. It's bigger than ours."

"It's actually too big. I rarely see more than five or six using it."

"I'm going to work on my abs and buttocks this morning."

I replied, "I'll do the treadmill and elliptical. I have pounds to lose, you don't."

As we worked, she asked, "Do you have a girlfriend?"

I was winded but able to say, "Not now."

"Why? Most guys like you are taken."

I grinned and stopped to catch my breath and watch her work. Emily's toned legs were flawless. Her entire visible body was lovely.

"I've had many girlfriends, and some of them had long-term potential. I just haven't found that one special lady I'm determined to find."

"What's your ideal girl?"

"Oh, I don't know; certainly a lady who's serious, a good conversationalist, intelligent and somewhat mysterious. Beauty never hurts, of course, but that's not necessary. I want a partner who'll always be my best friend and whom I respect and who respects me. Someone who'll love me unconditionally, as I will her. She also has to have a sense of humor and be willing to marry and tolerate a geeky engineer from Iowa."

She smiled, then said, "Patrick was a little like you... very intelligent. We were best friends. He was a bit on the shy side, and it took forever before we began sleeping together. I was ready long before he got the nerve to suggest it. I didn't want to push him.

"He was very sweet, and we were like a close brother and sister for a long time, but then we became lovers." Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn't cry.

I asked, "Are you hungry?"

"Very."

"There's a café not far from here that serves a good breakfast. Can we go there?"

"If you'd like."

****

The OK Café, another local landmark, was very busy. The line was out the door, but the people said it was moving quickly. I went inside to give the hostess my name. We waited in line under the umbrella.

The people around us were friendly, and we enjoyed visiting. There were many comments on Emily's t-shirt; several had a story about the Grateful Dead. That was one of the pleasant things about the South... even standing in line became a friendly social event.

An elderly couple behind us had lived in Nashville most of their lives. We discussed the flooding and I mentioned we were going by there the following weekend. The man asked, "Are you going to the Opry?"

"Sir, I wanted to but it's sold out the only night we're there. It's hard to get tickets but maybe some day I can see it."

"What night are you there?"

"Friday, the 14th."

"What are your names?"

"Matt Anderson and Emily Ryan." We shook hands, and they introduced themselves as Bob and Judy Thompson.

Bob asked to be excused. He stepped out of line and walked to his car while we continued talking with Judy. When he returned, he said, "You now have tickets."

"You're kidding me. How did that happen?" I asked.

"I've a good friend who works for one of the Opry sponsors. He's head of their customer relations department. They always have tickets for important guests like you." He flashed a sly smile.

"Are you serious?"

"I'm serious. The tickets will be at the 'will call' window in an envelope with your names on it. Be sure to get there at least 30 minutes early. Have a good time?"

"Sir, I'm shocked. Thank you very much. This has been a dream of mine, and now I'll get to see it." Emily was not as excited.

The line was moving, and we eventually reached the hostess desk. When my name was called, I turned to our new best friends from Nashville and invited them to join us. They were delighted and followed us to a large booth.

When seated, Judy asked, "Where are you young folks from? I know it's not Atlanta."

"Emily is from California, and I'm from Iowa. I've been here six years at Tech."

Judy asked, "Emily, do you go to school here?"

"No ma'am, I've only been here a few days. My boyfriend and I were driving from California to South Carolina to visit his parents, and we were just passing through."

She looked down and couldn't continue.

I explained, "They had problems and now I'm taking Emily back to California when I start to work there."

We ordered and enjoyed the hearty breakfast foods. The talk was pleasant, but Emily hardly participated. As we were savoring our final bites, Judy innocently said, "I hope the trouble you had wasn't serious."

Emily responded, "My boyfriend was murdered."

Judy dropped her fork and stared at her in total shock. Bob looked at Emily, then me. "Oh my gosh!" he exclaimed.

Judy responded, "I'm sorry, Emily. Someday, I'm going to learn to keep my big mouth shut. Please forgive me."

"That's okay. You didn't know. Matt has been wonderful helping me deal with it and my friends have been very supportive. His body was cremated yesterday and we're having a memorial service when I get home."

I was glad Emily could talk about the tragedy. Although that was a more serious discussion than we would normally have over breakfast, I think all of us felt it was important. As we parted company, Judy gave Emily a very caring embrace. Bob and I exchanged cell phone numbers, and he said he would call me after the 14th so we could talk about the Opry. I wondered, but later learned why he wanted to do that.

Emily was quiet as we returned to the apartment. She gazed out the car window and appeared to be in deep thought. Dealing with death must eventually be done internally, and she was doing that it seemed.

****

In the late afternoon, the rain stopped and the sun came out for the first time that day. There was a baseball game between the Braves and the Pirates at Turner Field that evening and I asked whether she wanted to go.

"Yes, I like baseball," was her quick response. She was a Giant's fan and had gone often with Patrick to see them. I checked online, and tickets were available. We took the MARTA Braves shuttle from Underground Atlanta, purchased the tickets and settled into our wet seats for the next few hours. Ten minutes before the national anthem was played, I walked to concessions and purchased four hotdogs, peanuts, and two large sodas. We were ready.

This was the first time I'd seen Emily relaxed. The crowd was large, and exciting and she seemed to be having a fun time. A number of the fans around us spoke, and several young men seemed interested in Emily. Two tried to chat her up before I gave them a stand-down frown.

The scoreboard showed her beloved Giants had won in a day game at San Diego. When the Braves got a critical hit and three runs scored, we jumped to our feet with the crowd. She excitedly squeezed my arm and cheered. The weight of despair was lifted from her, if only for a short while.

Having consumed the dogs and peanuts by the third inning, I went for a funnel cake. Emily had never had one but liked the powdered doughnut taste. The white sugar dust fell on our clothes, but it didn't matter. We laughed at the mess.

The Braves won 7-2 and the happy crowd cheered as the team celebrated on the field. There was a fireworks show following the game, and it was spectacular... lasting at least ten minutes. Emily was wide-eyed and cheering the massive colorful explosions the entire time. As it wound down, she grabbed my arm.

"Matt, this was wonderful. Thank you for bringing me. It's just what I needed." I smiled and nodded.

The crowd was dense, and movement was slow as we headed to the exit. Emily held my hand the entire time so we wouldn't be separated. As we walked to the MARTA bus to return to Underground Atlanta, she talked continuously about the game and fireworks. Her smiles were wonderful to see.

When we entered the apartment, she turned to me. "Thank you again, Matt. It was great to be there, and I thoroughly enjoyed it." She leaned into me and kissed my cheek. She smiled, turned, and walked to her bedroom and closed the door. I stood there, speechless, but wanting more.

Sunday, May 9, 2010

For two hours I struggled to fall asleep. Thoughts of her dominated my mind, and I was worried. I knew she was being nice and flirting with me so I would help her. We had no future beyond that upcoming trip, I thought. I was a simple, plain engineer and she could be a cover girl on any magazine. Why would she hang out with me unless she had to? I couldn't allow myself to fall for her. She was sure to leave at her first opportunity. Clearly I was being used.

Emily's scream woke me in the middle of the night. I walked to her door. She was crying and talking to Patrick, but I only heard his name and couldn't understand what she was saying. I didn't know for sure if she were awake or dreaming. I wanted to go in and comfort her but chose to sit on the sofa and wait. She needed privacy and the chance to deal with the memories.

I read a magazine and waited... praying she would get past the hurt tormenting her every night. Her talking and crying continued for many minutes. That was the worst night yet.

Unexpectedly, her door opened and she saw me. "Oh, why are you out here?"

Something seemed terribly wrong. She was very nervous.

"You were having very bad dreams."

"I know."

Emily hesitated for a moment and wiped away a few tears. "Patrick was in the room with me. He was bloody and pleading for his life. He cried out for me. I heard a gunshot and saw him slump over and stop breathing. I screamed and screamed and tried to reach him but couldn't. I wanted to hold him. I was desperate to hold him, Matt, but I woke up."

She walked to the sofa and sat. Her eyes were full of tears when she whispered,

"Can you hold me?"

Emily turned and I held her tightly. She was trembling, and I could feel through the pajamas that her body was cool and clammy from perspiration. Even her hair was damp. I gently rubbed her back as she squeezed my warm body trying to get closer. She wept softly as the shaking continued. I held her quietly for many minutes until she grew calm and began to relax.

"Can we try to get some sleep now?" I asked.

"Could I have a glass of water?"

I released her and she turned into a normal sitting position. I brought it to her and she drank almost all of it before standing and returning to the bedroom. I walked behind her and was surprised to see the sleeping pill bottle open on the bedside table. She quickly grabbed it and tried to shield it from me. My eyes filled with tears when I realized what that meant.

Her sheets were damp from perspiration.

"Emily, you can't sleep on these sheets. I don't have another set so let's go to my bedroom." She looked quizzically at me.

"I'll sleep on the sofa and you take my bed. I'll put your sheets in the washing machine now, and we'll dry them in the morning."

"No, let me sleep on the sofa."

"Absolutely not; you're my guest." She smiled and I followed her into my bedroom. She eased under the covers, and I tucked them around her.

"Your bed feels warm. Thank you for being here for me."

As I briefly sat on the bed beside her, we gazed at each other. I smiled when she softly said, "I never had a real brother, but if I did, I'd want him to be like you."

I smiled again and patted the covers over her legs. "Now get some sleep and we'll talk in the morning."

I left the room and closed the door before loading the sheets in the washer. I found the sleeping pills under her pillow and hid them in the kitchen cabinet among the spice bottles. It was already 5:00 am and nearing the time I normally wake, but I rested on the sofa anyway.

****

I was vigorously shaken and saw Emily standing over me.

"Good morning, sleepyhead. I thought you always got up early."

I waited a few seconds for my brain to focus. "I suppose I was exhausted."

She sat on the floor in front of the sofa and said, "I'm sorry about last night."

"Don't be. It's natural to go through what you're experiencing. It'll take time for the bad memories to fade and leave the happy ones behind. But I don't need to tell you that."

"It hurts so much, Matt." Tears again welled in her eyes. She leaned over and laid her head on the sofa next to my chest. I stroked her hair as she sobbed.

After a few minutes, she walked to the shower and I put her sheets in the dryer.

As we sat at the table for breakfast, I mentioned, "I always go to church on Sunday mornings. Do you want to go with me?"

"Matt, I don't have any problem with you going to church and worshipping however you want. Just don't try to convince me that I should believe in a higher power. I'm not there. I don't see it. Like I said, it's just not possible that there's a just and loving God with all that's happened to me."

"Emily, I understand your anger and why you feel the way you do. One disaster after another has hit you and it's natural to feel abandoned by God. But please keep an open mind. I'm not trying to convince you to believe the way I do. Just don't completely close your mind. Please."

An angry scowl showed me what I didn't want to see. She hated God.

"Matt, you have no idea what I've had to endure. Don't ask me to keep an open mind. It's too late for that."

I looked away before she asked, "What time is your service?"

"It's at 10:30. I should be back by noon."

"Can I fix lunch?"

"Sure... use anything you can find. There's some beef and chicken in the freezer and we've several cans of vegetables. Do you like to cook?"

"I do enjoy cooking but need training. Mom was always working and didn't have much time to cook, except on weekends. We ate fast foods and easy stuff like pasta during the week."

"I have two cookbooks on the shelf in my bedroom if you want to take a look."

"I will."

"I need to jump in the shower. Is there anything you need while I'm out?"

"Can't think of anything."

****

When I returned, the rich aroma from the food she was cooking made my mouth water. "Hey Emily, what smells so good?"

She had changed into a dress, put makeup on and looked fine.

"Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and green peas," she responded.

"My goodness, you fried chicken?" I walked over and raised the lid on the iron skillet. "This looks wonderful! I'm starving."

"You had legs and thighs left so I looked up a recipe and tried it."

"And I had all the ingredients?"

"You did."

"Can I help with anything?"

"Don't think so. It should be ready in a few minutes."

After changing clothes, I returned to the kitchen. Emily was plating the food and had set the table. When seated, I asked the blessing and thanked God for letting me get to know Emily and for the food she'd prepared. When I said amen and looked up, she was smiling.

"You think my cooking needs a prayer, uh?"

"No. I'm saying I'm thankful for it. I'm also very thankful for you and that you didn't get killed."

She reached for my hand, "Matt, I'm very thankful to you. I've wondered what would've happened if you hadn't been there."

I reached for a chicken leg and slowly bit into the crunchy coating. It was still very hot but tasty. "Oh my, this is wonderful Emily." I watched her take a bite and savor it with a big smile.

"It is, isn't it? I never knew it would be so easy."

The mashed potatoes were lumpy but good. The green peas were out of a can so you can't do much to hurt them. But the chicken was excellent. We ate every piece.

As I helped clean the kitchen, I asked, "What do you want to do this afternoon? The weather looks good."

"Let's go for a walk."

"How about we go to the zoo?"

"Sounds fun. I haven't been to one in a long time."

****

Zoo Atlanta was impressive. We walked the entire site but frequently stopped to rest and watch the animals, including two pandas. There was a new family of warthog piglets on display. They were very ugly but still cute as they chased each other.