The Virgin Ceremonies Ch. 19

Virginia: Nana Knows Best

It was the day before Christmas. I was condemned to the kitchen, put under the charge of Ms. Antonella, ordered to obey all of her directives without question. This was as close to punishing me on Christmas Eve as my mother could get without locking me in my room. I had one last hope, a glimmer of hope, really, a sliver that was beyond all hope. There was only one person who could save me now, and it wasn't Brent, no matter what he believed.

"Nana!" I said, running outside when I saw her car pull up through the kitchen window.

"Ginny!"

I wrapped my arms around her neck. Oh, she smelled like sweet mothballs and arthritis cream, and I loved her. Her little dog, Smoochy, yipped and jumped at my shins.

"Sweetie, you squeeze too tight," she said, patting my back.

"I'm so glad you're here."

I let her go, and we walked the path up to the porch. She held Smoochy's leash.

"Your mother said you're in the dog house. What's it all about?"

"She's forbidden me from telling you."

"Oh, I've already heard most of it. Shame on you, cheating on Tom. It's all the gossip."

"Grandma, can we talk?"

"Now?"

"Yes. It's important."

"Come on, sweetheart. You can do Harrison's job. I made my pies, and you can carry them in."

"Yes, ma'am."

We started to turn back to Nana's car, but my mother stepped outside and caught us.

"Ah-ah-ah! Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm helping Grandma," I said, praying Grandma would save me.

"I have pies," Grandma said.

"Mother, I told you not to bake anything," Diana said.

"I've been baking my pies for Christmas since before you were born, and I don't answer to you on the Good Lord's birthday. You're all eating my pies. Put that store-bought trash where it belongs!"

Diana folded her arms. "I'm the hostess."

"When you learn to bake, then you can be the hostess," Nana said. She handed my mother Smoochy's leash. "Take Smoochy in and give her a snack. Come on, Ginny, pies."

"Mother, Ginny is under house arrest. She is confined to the kitchen until dinner. And then she will sit quietly and say please and thank you and speak only when spoken to."

I gulped. Maybe I was screwed.

"She's coming out to the car to get my pies. And that's that. Hush now, Diana, not another word, or I'll confine you to the kitchen."

"She's my daughter, Mother!"

"And you're mine. Come, Ginny."

I smirked in victory, but I dared not let my mother see. I lowered my head and followed Grandma while my mother took Smoochy inside. Grandma drove a big black BMW. She never drove in the city, but when she came to Long Island, she always took her car. She said at her age, moving fast was something she could only do in a sedan.

"In, in, sit," she said, getting behind the driver's seat.

I climbed in the passenger seat, moving Smoochy's pillow, and Grandma turned on the car and cranked the heat.

"Okay, out with it. I want the gossip."

"She will kill me, Nana, and I mean literally slit my throat and leave me for the crows if I tell you what I've done. You might help her."

"Well, I'm not much for crows, dear, and I know most of it. You told Tom you had sex with some other man, is that it?"

"Yes."

"So, who?"

"Nana, please, I am already grounded. She'll disown me."

"Spill it."

"Are you going to keep it a secret?"

"Oh, come now, Ginny, your mother is going to tell me everything eventually. She always does. I'll just act a little surprised when I hear it from her, but I want to hear it from you first."

"But what if you want to disown me after you hear what I did?"

"I haven't disowned anyone since your big sister."

I was confused. "I don't have a big sister."

"Exactly!" she said, laughing. "Come on, Ginny, dear. What happened?"

I leaned back in my seat. "Do you remember my partner from my virgin ceremony?"

"That cute boy with the nice hair?"

"Yes."

"You didn't."

"I did... a lot."

"Lord, child," Grandma said, sighing and shaking her head. "You know that's a big no-no, don't you?"

"Is it?" I said, looking at her. "No one told me."

"You hush. I'm tempted to slap you for being so stupid. You ruined a good thing with Tom."

"I didn't though," I said. "Tom may smile and charm, but he's a real jerk in private. Did you know he cheated on me half a dozen times, once with Quinn?"

"With Quinn?" she said, raising her voice.

"Don't be angry with Quinn. They were drunk, and if I know Tom, he probably took advantage of her. And either way, I've forgiven her."

"And here I thought he was a nice boy."

"He's not, and we're not meant for each other. But Brent and I are."

"Brent's the boy from the ceremony?"

"Yes," I said. My stomach did somersaults. It was time for the Hail Mary pass. "Grandma, I need help."

"Oh, no, don't go there."

"Please," I said urgently.

"Child, if you really think I'm going to tell your mother to accept that boy, you're crazy. It's not my place."

I sat back. "You were my last hope."

"Last hope?"

"I thought somehow you could convince her to let me see him again, even as a friend."

"A friend with benefits?"

"Does it matter?"

Nana stared at me for a minute. "You really care about him."

"Yes," I said softly.

"Do you love him?" she said.

I took a deep breath. "Yes."

"Really?" she asked sincerely.

"Yes, really."

"Convince me."

I looked at her. "Huh?"

"Make me believe you. Because right now, I see a silly 18-year-old girl. Are you a woman who is in love, or did you have some really good dick, and you want some more?"

"Grandma!"

"Am I wrong? Convince me."

"He's the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I think about before I fall asleep at night."

"Sounds like good dick. What else?"

"He's perfect. He's an amazing lover--"

"Definitely dick," she chimed in.

"--he's sweet, thoughtful, so loving and gentle with me."

"As good dick should be."

"He's brave. He makes me feel like I'm the most important thing in the world, like he'd take on any challenge to be with me, even my family."

"Yes, this all sounds like really good dick," Nana said.

"Stop it! When I think about my future, any guy but him, a guy like Tom, it makes me miserable. I see the woman I was becoming, and I despise her, a meek child who never grew up, who always did what she was told, even to the ruin of her own life. But with Brent, I see possibilities. I see a marriage that I actually want. I see a child I would love, and a father I could be proud of. I see rocking chairs on a porch and gray hair and memories that I haven't even had yet. And you know what, I resent your question. I know I love him, and everyone in the world can tell me I can't be with him, but no one is going to tell me I don't love him."

She lifted her chin in a slow nod. "I'm convinced."

"Really?"

"You know," she began, "when I was a girl, my great grandmother told me all about the ceremonies in her village. Back when she was young, it was used for arranged marriages. That's how it started. The couple would seal their proposal with lovemaking. And whole families would attend, mothers and fathers, aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters. Over time, it changed. The men started to disapprove. But the arrangement of the couple was always left to the mothers, so they started looking outside the village, and it turned into a coming-of-age ceremony.

"That whole no-kissing thing, that's very new. In fact, until you and Quinn and Ophelia, that was never a rule. Do you know why Diana and Olivia made it a rule? Because they both never forgave me for the men that I found for them. Both of them, especially Olivia, fell hard for their lovers. Naturally I never revealed their identities, and they both grew bitter for it. Oh, they got over it, as women do, but they also didn't want the same heartache for their daughters, so no kissing. There was too much passion there, too much connection. And this is why you will never get their blessing to be with Brent, because they never got to keep their lovers, so why should they allow you to keep yours?"

"Okay, I get that now, but if that's what the ceremony was really about, it worked, because I fell in love. So, can't you help me convince my mother that Brent and I deserve a chance? You're the only one who can."

"He's not exactly from our village though, is he?" she said. "So, it's not a match, because it wasn't arranged to be. The way you two met makes it a nonstarter."

"He was right," I said bitterly.

"About what, dear?"

"That I'll never convince them. I can't even convince you. It will always be a 'no.'"

"Yes, it will be," Grandma said. She looked thoughtful. "Did he ask you to run away with him?"

I swallowed hard. "No."

"Ginny..."

"I wouldn't do it. It doesn't matter if he asked me."

"You're a good girl. Of course, you wouldn't."

"Yes, I am a good girl, and I hate that I am. I hate that I'm a fucking coward."

"Hey, hey, language."

"I'm a prisoner, Nana," I said. "Without Brent, I'm that meek woman I despise, completely under my mother's control. And worse, she'll never trust me again. Even if I never saw Brent another day in my life, she will keep me locked up, either here or at home. The leash will be so tight, how am I ever going to live my life, let alone meet someone new?"

"She doesn't want you to meet someone new. She wants you to meet someone she approves of."

"God. Why does she get to decide my future? Did you decide hers?"

"I made an introduction, and she saw rising prestige in your father, a chance to gain both affluence and political influence. That was what she wanted most of all, someone to match her status, to enrich her life. And there is nothing wrong with that."

"But that's not what I want. I want love."

"And there is nothing wrong with that either. You are your own woman, Ginny."

"No, I'm not. That's the problem."

"With that attitude, you certainly won't be." She sighed and shook her head. "Oh, hell. Reach in the back there, grab that green bag."

I obeyed her, reaching back, grabbing it. It was stuffed with papers, envelopes, mail. She started looking through it.

"Taxes are around the corner. All my receipts and statements. I've been meaning to drop them off at my accountant's office." She kept digging and then pulled out an envelope. "Ah, here it is."

She held it out to me. It had a green logo from a company I didn't recognize. She pulled it away before I could take it.

"Don't open it unless you have to, and don't tell your mother."

I was confused. "What is it?"

"Just put it away for now. Maybe I'll ask for it back later. We'll see how things go."

"Okay, I'm still confused."

"Let's go in. It's cold. My pies are in the trunk. I made beetroot cobbler too. I don't care if everyone hates it. I'm 69. They have to tell me everything is delicious."

Inside we went, my mother giving me her typical disapproving scowl. I was happy to be banished to the kitchen again, but I didn't stay there long. After Quinn's father Eric and my father Jonathan arrived, my punishment was on hold.

For a brief moment of insanity, I considered appealing to my father, begging for his help to change my mother's mind, but I supposed that was like asking a lamb to reason with a wolf. Besides, he was avoiding me. Even his greeting was cold. He was upset about Tom, and I'd embarrassed him with his friend Thomas Sr. I was embarrassed as well, knowing he thought his daughter was a slut who admitted she'd had sex with some other man.

We all sat around the big table, and Harrison carved the turkey, with my mother critiquing him, as she always did, and Eric and my father discussing the latest political scandal, and Olivia lecturing my grandmother about her diet.

This is what I was fighting for, this family. This is why I could never run away with Brent. I needed this life, a life with a family who laughed together around a turkey, with all the ridiculous foods around me that would turn to ash in my mouth, because my heart was too empty to enjoy it. The decadence, the opulence of a room with a crystal chandelier and ruby tipped curtain rods and golden platters. Yes, this was worth the love of my life, a plate of turkey. Who needed a full heart when I had a full belly? And how could I forget what I really loved? All the money. One day, if I was a good girl, this would all be mine, and I would be the matriarch of this family. That's what mattered to me, wasn't it?

I looked around at all the faces, the polite smile on Nana's lips, my mother's forced laughter, the submissive nod of my father, the melancholy on Quinn's brow, the smirking superiority at the corner of Aunt Olivia's mouth, and the arrogance in Eric's eyes. My missing brother Samuel, busy with his fiance. My missing cousin Ophelia, busy with work. They didn't want to be here anymore than I did.

"It's too bad Ophelia couldn't make it this year," I said suddenly, interrupting a conversation about the stock market.

"Yes, truly a shame," Olivia said.

"She sure doesn't come home much, does she?" I said.

"Well, she is so very busy in Europe," Olivia said.

"Yes, I'm sure she is so busy, and flights are so expensive. I'm sure that's it."

Olivia shot me a laser glare that cut through me. I wasn't strong enough to match her eyes and I looked down.

"She's on with her own life," Grandma said. "It's good for children to have parents who support them, but they all grow up eventually. You will too, Ginny, and you too, Quinn."

My mother laughed a little, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. "Not too soon with this one, I think," she said, looking at me. "Very immature for her age, I'm afraid."

"Am I?" I said, looking at my mother. "I finished school early, didn't I?"

"Oh, you're very book smart, dear, but the world would eat you alive if I wasn't there to protect you."

My father grumbled, "Hmm." He sipped his wine. "That's why we have to protect her, and correct her mistakes."

"Too true," my mother said. "At least she's pretty. She has that going for her."

I felt heated. "And it's too bad Samuel isn't here either, isn't it, Mother? So busy."

My mother put her wine glass down, and I felt the heat of her rage directed at me even while she smiled. "Yes, he is very busy planning a wedding and visiting his fiance's family."

"Of course, Mother. I'm sure he'd be right here beside us if he could."

Dinner went on, and afterward, I found myself in the TV room, pretending to watch sports with my father and Eric. Quinn sat in the chair beside me. We both wanted freedom from our mothers, who were bickering in the other room with my grandmother. It went like this every year. This is what I was fighting for. This family.

And then it was time for dessert and disaster. I really should have seen it coming, but how could I? From somewhere far down the hall, I heard the call of "Merry Christmas!" from the foyer. A chill ran down my spine. I heard my mother and aunt welcoming the guests, thanking them for coming for dessert. And then they came, descending on the TV room. I felt sick.

"There she is!" Tom said, his eyes falling on me, his parents behind him, my mom and aunt and grandmother following. Tom sat beside me, taking my hand in his. "How are you, Ginny?"

I stared at his hand. How was this possible? It was surreal. I'd ended it. The one silver lining in this disastrous chain of events was that I was free of him.

"What?" I said, looking at him. "What are you doing here?"

"We always have time for Nana Duclark's famous dessert," Tom said with a cheerful face.

My father Jonathan greeted Thomas Sr. They laughed and shook hands. Thomas Sr. glanced at me and gave me a stern look. I knew it was a warning.

"Ginny, sweetheart," Matilda said. "I hope we can all let the mistakes of the past rest in the past."

"Yes, well said," my mother said, putting her hand on Matilda's shoulder. "We had a long talk about the mistakes both of you young foolish kids have made." Diana laughed and Matilda laughed too.

"But we've forgiven you, Ginny," Matilda said. "Mistakes were made, feelings hurt, but your mother and I worked it out. We know what's best for you two crazy kids."

I was a little confused. "You forgive me?"

"Yes," Tom spoke up. "I've realized I've been a bad boy myself."

"Oh, sweetie!" Matilda said with a titter. "Boys will be boys."

He chuckled. "No, no, Mom, I wasn't a gentleman. But Dad set me straight, and I've forgiven you, Ginny." He held my hand a little tighter. When I looked down, he had taken the ring out. "Your mother gave this back to my mother, and now, I'm giving it back to you. It's yours. Like you're mine."

He slipped the ring on my finger. This is what I was fighting for, this family, this chain around my finger. I'd never be free. Never.

"Oh, God," I whimpered. "Oh, God."

"Oh, she's so overwhelmed," Matilda said. "It's so beautiful."

"They're going to make a beautiful bride and groom," Diana said.

"Can you imagine their children? They'll be darlings!" Matilda said.

The ladies laughed together.

"Congratulations again!" my father said, raising his brandy glass.

"Here, here!" Eric said.

"You treat her well, son," Thomas Sr. said.

Tom laughed, holding up my hand, showing my ring. "You know I will, sir."

This is what I was fighting for. This family. This prison. I fought like hell to run away from Heaven and now the demons were pulling me down, down into the depths. I'd won my fight, and this was my reward.