Nora's First Time

Nora’s First Time

Nora held her sister Kate’s hand as they sat in the front pew of the church. The priest said, “You may now kiss the bride.” Nora blushed at the sight of her older brother embracing his new wife, their faces pressed against each other, passion radiating from the newlyweds. Nora wondered what it was like to kiss a boy. 

Hanora Theresa McCarty resembled her mother the most, according to their father. She was about the same size as her older sister Katie, even though being eight years younger. Her hair was long and straight, the color of dried straw. Last night she slept with fifty rag curlers tightly wound in her hair. The ringlet curls of the morning had faded to long full-bodied waves this afternoon. Although most of the women and older girls had their hair fashioned high upon the head, she liked hers loose. Nora appeared older than her 14 years.

Her brother John’s wedding reception was over, and all of the guests were gone. Nora was tasked with helping clean the hall and kitchen before she could go. She knew the party wasn’t finished. It was just getting started. It only moved down the hill to her house and most of the neighborhood would be there. She wasted no time cleaning the tables and platters. Out the back door when no one was looking, she raced down Conestoga, glanced both ways while not stopping as she crossed Front Street. Didn’t bother to look at all crossing the tracks, next block Frederick, turn right, middle of the block, there was already a gathering outside. Some of the men had fires burning in a couple of barrels at the edge of the street. A group of younger kids were tossing scraps into one of the barrels. She slowed her pace a little, not wanting to look like one of the little ones at the fire.

Nora walked up to the door and pardoned herself as she squeezed between two men who were talking at the entrance. The front parlor was crowded. The sofa and chairs were occupied by ladies from the bride’s family. The rest was standing room only. People were moving in and out of the parlor to the kitchen and the small back room which doubled as the pantry and their Da’s bedroom, then out the back door to the yard and alley where most of the neighbors had gathered.

John and Elias Buser had a butcher shop over on Main. They delivered two large smoked hams early that morning. Aunt Bridget cooked them on low heat all morning while the wedding took place. There were a couple of large pots boiling on the stove, one full of potatoes and another with cabbage. Mashed and mixed to make colcannon, there was enough to feed this crowd twice over. Mrs. Kadar brought over a pot of her Hungarian goulash. Rozsa Kadar, Miss Roz for short, as the neighborhood kids called her, always had a never-ending pot of her tasty stew warming on the stove. She ran a boarding house at the other end of Frederick Street. Goulash with bread and butter was served for every meal. Mr. and Mrs. Kyrsosiak, the new Polish family that moved in a few doors down brought a platter of kielbasa and sauerkraut. A feast fit for a king was to be had today.

Bill McCarty spared no expense for his only son’s wedding. A keg of Guinness Stout was delivered from O’Reilly’s Pub on Main Street. Along with a few bottles of his best Irish whiskey for special toasts, there would be enough drink to be sure no one would wake too early tomorrow.

Nora made her way into the kitchen to see if she could find someone her age. Aunt Bridget, who lived next door and was like a second mother to her, saw Nora walk into the kitchen and immediately tried to put her to work. Nora was too quick for her. She spotted the Ryan sisters just outside the back door. “Dad asked me to get something for him right now Aunt Bridie, be back in a couple of minutes,” she blurted as she slipped through the pantry. Bridget knew she had seen the last of her for a while.

Clare and Julia Ryan were her new sister-in-law, Maggie’s cousins. Clare was a couple of years older and Julie a few years younger. Nora had many occasions over the years to interact with the sisters and always got along well with both. Now they were practically family. The girls were milling around in the backyard where a group of neighborhood kids had gathered. 

Steelton was a microcosm of European immigrants, but most of the guests were Irish. And most of the wedding crashers, albeit being welcome, were also Irish. New families were always moving into West Side, many just arrived from the old country, and Nora didn’t know everyone who had congregated in her yard. A boy she hadn’t seen before was speaking Irish to another boy she also didn’t recognize. He caught her staring at him, but she couldn’t take her eyes away. Deep piercing blue had locked in on her. He was a lanky boy, not too tall with dark brown hair, and those eyes. 

Clare had noticed the young fellow herself and frowned a bit when she saw his gaze at Nora. “Nora, I saw him first and anyway I’m 16, you’re only 14, you’re Da would not be too happy about what you might be thinking.”

“Saw who first?” asked Julia.

“Never you mind Jul, nothing you should be knowing about anyway,” replied her sister. “Maybe you should go find Mother or get something to eat.”

“Are you sending me away because you want to flirt with those boys over by the alley?”

“No one ever said you weren’t smart little sister, go on now.” Clare turned Julia by the shoulders and gave her a nudge towards the house. “Well Nora, what are we waiting for? If a young Mr. Blue Eyes takes a liking to you, I’ll just have to make do with one of the others. That tall German-looking fellow might be interesting.”

“You want me to just walk over there and speak to him, I’m not like my sister,” Nora whispered.

“You won’t have to,” said Clare as the three boys approached. “Here they come.”

“Dia daoibh cailíní conas atá tú,” (good day girls how are you) said Mr. Blue eyes.

“Dia is Maire duit,” (good day to you) replied Clare and Nora together.

“An bhfuil Gaeilge agat?” (you have the Irish?) He asked.

“Tá Gaeilge beag agam,” (I have a little) said Nora.

“I know some, also,” added Clare.

“Can you just speak English?” said the tall German-looking fellow.

“Cad is ainm duit?” asked Mr Blue eyes, looking at Nora.

Nora hesitated, but Clare spoke quickly “Is é mo ainm an Chláir agus is í.”

“Hanora,” interjected Nora before Clare could finish. 

“English please.”

“Alright Harvey,” said Mr Blue Eyes. “This is Harvey, Harvey Schnell and this young one is mo dheartháir, William”.

“Your what?” asked Harvey. “My brother,” he responded, "and this is Clare and Hanora.”

“Where did the other girl go that you were talking to?” asked William.

“Who? Do you mean Julia, my little sister?” asked Clare.

“The little brown-haired one,” chirped Harvey as he ruffled William’s hair. “William here thought she was preeety.”

Nora started laughing. “There you are Clare, going and thinking they might be interested in you and tis the young one they be after.”

William’s face turned from pasty white to the color of a red radish in two seconds. “I didn’t say that Harveeey, it was you said you’ll take the tall one, my brother can have the middle one and William, there’s even a pretty little one for you.”

Nora looked at Clare. Clare had a big grin on her face. She wasted no time as she stepped closer to Harvey and touched his arm. “So, Harvey, I guess I’m the tall one, where might you be planning to take me?”

Harvey’s face almost turned as ripe as William’s, but he had a grin that matched Clare’s as he took her hand and said, “Maybe for a walk down the alley.” They turned and strolled away.

Nora looked at the two boys in front of her. There was no mistaking, they were brothers. Same build but the foot difference in height. They both had brown hair and blue eyes. William still had a baby face whereas his older brother had a slimmer look to his and started to grow a bit of hair about the upper lip that obviously had never been shaved.

She saw William was still flustered and tried to put him at ease. “You know William that be me Da’s name also, lovely name it is.” William’s color had faded to that of a pink rose but deepened when she addressed him. “Her name is Julia Ryan, she is 10 years old and goes to St. James School. Would you like me to introduce her to you?”

The timing couldn’t have been better as Julia came through the back door and walked right over to them. “Introduce who Nora?” She said as the three of them turned to her.

“Why you of course,” said Nora. William’s face looked as if he had scarlet fever now. “Julia, this is William. William, this is Julia.”

“Nice to meet you, William,” said Julia. “Do you live in West Side?”

“We do, down on Myers Street. Where do you live?”

“Just over the next block on Frederick. How come I haven’t seen you in school before?”

“We haven’t been here very long, Da says I can go if I want.”

“Where’s your mother? Doesn’t she think you should go to school?”

“She died back in Wales when I was five.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you hungry, do you want to get something to eat? Come inside there’s loads of food.”

“Sure, I guess so,” William said as they headed for the door, completely ignoring his brother and Nora.

Nora blushed and looked away. She was standing there alone with a boy and realized she didn’t know his name.

“Agus tú an tUasal gorm súile, cad é d'ainm?” she blurted.

“Mister Blue Eyes” he started to laugh, “is that what you called me?” 

“What should I call you? You have not yet told me your name.”

“Tá brón orm, Is mise Seamus Joseph O’Sullibhean mé.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. Tis nice to meet you, Seamus O’Sullivan. Welcome to my home. Do you wish to come inside and have something to eat or drink?” Nora was being her most proper self.

“Well now that you mention it, a pint of stout from that barrel would taste mighty fine about now.”

“Mr. O’Sullivan, inside there is punch provided for the younger guests. Me Da would not take kindly to you drinking his Guinness.”

“I’m a day laborer in the steelworks. Me and the boys have us a pint or two after every shift. You can serve that punch you speak of to wee William and Julia.”

“Full of yourself, are ye now? Day Laborer you say?”

“Ta me,” (I am) he said. “I guess ye never tasted a pint of the black stuff, young Miss Hanora?”

“One shouldn’t presume, Mr. O’Sullivan,” she retorted. 

“Well then, we are going to have to remedy this situation. Wait for me around the corner of the house. I’ll be there in a minute.” Seamus walked over to the keg where an older fellow was filling his glass. Seamus asked him where he might find a cup or two. After a brief visit to the kitchen, he rounded the corner of the house with a cup of stout in each hand.

 “Mo chailín, have a taste.” He handed her a cup and tapped his to it. “Sláinte mhaith.”

“You’re presuming again. I am not your girlfriend Mr. O’Sullivan.”

“Have a wee taste, Nora.” He gently lifted her cup towards her mouth.

“If me Da or Aunt Bridy finds out, they’ll lock me in the house until Christmas,” she protested.

“Who might tell them? Tis a celebration, mo chailín. Everyone will understand if herself has a bit o fun.”

She took a drink and made a face, then took another. 

“Slainte mhaith,” Seamus toasted again and drank his cup down. 

She finished her cup with another gulp. She looked up and he was smiling. Her eyes locked on his. She blinked and when her eyes opened, he had moved in front of her. Her back was frozen to the wall of the house. He pressed up against her and put his lips on hers. She tried to back away but had nowhere to go. Then she tasted the stout on his lips mix with hers. She dropped her cup and relaxed. He stepped back with a smile, never releasing his steel blue gaze on her. He dropped his cup, placed his hands on the side of her shoulders, and whispered, “Mo chailín.”

 Nora put her hands on his chest and leaned forward to meet his lips again. This time her lips parted, and their tongues touched. She pulled back towards the wall, her mouth a gasp, and looked at his, then his eyes. She licked her lips, looked from his eyes to his mouth again, and leaned forward. The kiss lasted until she needed to catch her breath. She leaned back. He stroked his hand through a wavy strand of her hair and whispered again, “Mo chailín.”

Nora whispered back “Mo grá.” (My love.) Their lips met again.