He leaned over and kissed her. Her lips tasted sweet. Then he grabbed the tub and took it outside.
Out in the cold, he dumped the wash water. Then stood stark still. He’d kissed Maria.
He went inside with the empty tub. She’d fled the kitchen.
Chapter 18: Repercussions
The next morning, Jenny roused and dressed Maggie and took the toddler downstairs. Maria sliced bread while Mrs. O’Malley fried bacon. “Good morning,” Jenny said, putting Maggie down to hug Maria.
“Morning, Mama,” Maria murmured.
Jenny turned to pick up a platter of pancakes to take to the dining room where the boys sat waiting.
“I’ll get that, Ma—Ouch,” Maria cried. “I cut my thumb.”
Jenny put down the platter and examined her daughter’s bleeding thumb. “We’ll need a towel, Mrs. O’Malley,” she said. When the housekeeper offered her one, Jenny wrapped it around Maria’s hand. “Come with me,” she said to Maria. “That needs a plaster.”
They went upstairs, and Jenny treated Maria’s thumb. Her daughter trembled uncontrollably. “It’s not that bad, child,” Jenny said.
Maria sobbed.
“What’s wrong?” Jenny asked. The towel had stanched the bleeding, and the injury didn’t warrant the girl’s tears.
“Will kissed me,” Maria mumbled.
“Pardon?” Jenny didn’t think she’d understood correctly.
“Last night. While we washed dishes. In the kitchen.”
“He kissed you?” The children had always been affectionate, and Jenny had seen Will buss his sisters on the cheek many times. “What’s the fuss?”
“On the lips, Mama,” Maria whispered. “Like Pa kisses you.”
Stunned, Jenny spent a moment to attach the plaster. Then she asked in as nonchalant a tone as she could muster, “How did you feel about it?”
“I don’t know,” Maria wailed. “I think I liked it. Does that make me bad?”
“No, no.” Jenny put an arm around her daughter. “It’s not bad to like a boy kissing you.” The possibility of William and Maria forming an attachment beyond brother and sister had never occurred to Jenny. In her mind, they were brother and sister. How should she handle this situation?
Jenny took a deep breath. “You mustn’t be forward with a boy. Any boy. Even William. And you’re way too young for any romantic notions with any young man.”
“But you were my age when you—”
“I didn’t have a choice, dear,” Jenny said. “In any event, I was too young for a romantic attachment. I was still too young the next year when Mac left for California. I grew up a lot before he came back. I was eighteen then.”
“I wasn’t forward, Mama, I swear.”
Jenny ran her hand over Maria’s dark hair. “I’m sure you weren’t, dear. I’ll have a word with William.”
“I don’t want to get Will in trouble.”
“He’s not in trouble.” Jenny sighed. “But I will talk to him nonetheless.”
Jenny fretted all day about how to approach William. How did a mother talk to her son about whether it was appropriate to kiss a girl? A girl who was his sister . . . but wasn’t. There was nothing wrong with the two young people becoming sweet on each other, though it could cause great awkwardness in the family.
When Mac arrived home from his office, Jenny followed him to their room. “We need to talk,” she said.
He turned to her. “Are you all right? Any more cramping?”
She shook her head. “That’s not it.” She swallowed hard, then said, “William kissed Maria last night.”
“He did what?” Mac bellowed. “Damn that boy.” Apparently, Mac understood immediately what William had done, unlike Jenny’s confusion that morning.
“Mac,” Jenny admonished.
“How did you find out?” Mac threw his cravat on the bed and his cuff links followed.
“Maria told me.”
“Did he hurt her?”
“Mac, it was a kiss,” Jenny said. “No more. She’s confused, but she’s fine.”
“Damn him,” Mac grumbled again.
