Southie Story

Southie Story
A short story by Kim LeRoux

         The humidity was rising.  It was a hot summer morning, and she walked slowly along Hanover Street.  It was early, but the working stiffs had made their daily trek to the 9 to 5.  Her bag was heavy, and she had begun to sweat slightly behind it.  Tiny rivulets of sweat beaded and fell down her back.  "Damn, wish I'd taken my car on this little trip", she though silently as she passed the Luna restaurant.  She had something to prove.  Prove to herself and her father.  She could live and work in his world.  She knew what he did, and it made her proud that her father was part of some tradition that both scared and fascinated outsiders.  She knew that her father would not be happy that she was making the trip to Southie with several thousand dollars in her backpack and no protection, and the idea of her presenting it to a sweaty drunken bunch of Paddys was more than he could stand.  Unfortunately, the money needed to be delivered. 
         It was a strange set of circumstances that lead to this delivery.  For decades, the Irish and the Italians had merely ignored each other partly out of distrust, partly out of immigrant pride.  They had to live in symbiosis in order for the rackets to continue.  She smiled and a small giggle escaped from her mouth at the prospect of entering into a pub.  And the idea of taking care of her father's business.  Sure, he could have sent Vito, Pete, or even Tony.  But who was going to fuck with the daughter of Dominic Caravallo?  That was her thinking.  Her father thought otherwise.  He was worried that she could be robbed, raped, murdered, or all three.  All she said to him was, "Trust me, papa.  I know what to do."
         She stopped briefly at the Commons, and took her Walkman out of her bag.  The trip would be much better with some music.  She grabbed a tape and quickly put it in.  She carefully placed the headphones on her head without smashing her perfectly coiffed mountain of dark curls.  She pressed play on the Walkman.  The mournful sounds of The Cure pumped through the headphones.  Let the journey begin.
         In no time, she had made it to the small Irish pub that was her destination. 

         It was still early, so there weren't too many patrons.  A few men dotted the barstools around the bar.  Deliberately, she tossed her flowing brown hair carelessly.  She used her fingers to scrunch it a bit, to make it look fuller.  The bar was more humid that the outdoors, and she had to make this quick. "I need to speak to Kevin Donnelly.  Is he here?" she asked the bartender.  The bartender looked up at her and smiled.  He was a big man with a shock of black hair that sat on top of his head, and flowed down his back.  "No, Kevin's not here yet.  You can wait here if you want to," he said offering her a seat at the bar.  "Can I get you something while you wait?" he asked as she sat.  She had a fleeting thought that he would guess that she was only seventeen, and make her wait outside if she asked for a glass of red wine or a Sam Adams.  "I'll just have an iced tea.  I normally don't drink beer this early in the day," she said casually.
         He gently placed the iced tea down in front of her, and made an attempt to gaze into her eyes.  She didn't look up.  "Do you have a name, or do I have to guess it?" he joked. "How much do I owe you for the drink?" she asked acting unamused.  "Nothing.  Just thought it would be nice for you to have something to drink before Kevin gets here.  Is the pissed off thing just an act, or all of you Italian girls from the North End really like that?" he asked.  She looked up at him, and tilted her head slightly to the left, looking at him questioningly.  "I just have a job to do.  Sorry if I came off like a total bitch," she apologized  halfheartedly. 
         One of the men sitting at the other end of the bar called the bartender down to him.  She heard him say, "Do you know who she is?"  More whispering.  The bartender never took his eyes off of her.  She felt an uneasiness now.  She sipped her tea, and watched the bartender and the other man out of the corner of her eyes.  She heard the bartender laugh heartily, and walk back over to her. 
         "So, am I going to get your name or do I have to guess?" he asked again.  "Well, I should make you guess.  You already know I'm Italian, so it would have to be Mary, Maria, Marie, or some other religious name," she said beginning to smile.  "Which one is it?" the bartender inquired through his laughter.  "My guess is your name is Marie.  You have manicured nails that could tear someone's eyes out, your hair has more hairspray in it than all five members of Aerosmith, and you have enough make up on to hide the fact that you are either underage to be in here, or you are worried that you are getting old.  My guess is that you're kind of on the young side," he reasoned. 
         "Well, actually, my name is Gabriella, and I like my hair and my nails just the way they are.  It's the style you know.  So do you have a name or should I just assume that your name could be Patrick, Seamus, Bud, Whitey, or Ryan?  You can't really hide the fact you're Irish you know," Gabriella shot back.  "Actually, my name is John Patrick McCaffery.  Most of my friends call me JP," the bartender said extending his hand to her.  She took his hand gracefully.  "Gabriella, it is nice to meet you," he said as he raised her hand to his lips.

         Gabriella waited what seemed like an eternity to her.  JP had now made her completely uncomfortable, but she noticed he was attracted to her.  He had to have been at least 30 if he was a day.  She noticed him looking at her breasts that were draped in a white off the shoulder blouse.  She figured she had two really great assets.  Her hair and her tits. 
         At last Kevin appeared at the door of the pub.  He was a small man with round glasses wearing a tattered Boston Celtics t-shirt and a brand new pair of Girbaud jeans with a pair of Birkenstock sandals. "Hey, Kev, this girl has a delivery for you," JP said as he looked at Gabriella and winked.  "Ok.  Send her back to my office," Kevin said as he stepped to the back of the bar and grabbed a glass and began to pour him a Guinness. 
         "Kevin's office is through that door on the left.  It's ok.  He's not going to try anything," JP said reassuring her.  "Oh, I'm not worried about him," Gabriella said as she picked up her bag and headed towards the office. 

         The transaction was complete. Gabriella handed him the envelope with the cash.  Kevin counted it.  JP stood outside the door of the office.  Gabriella wrapped her fingers around the straight razor she had in her bag.  She had a feeling that JP wouldn't try anything, but Kevin might.  It looked like it had been a while since he got laid. 

         "Do you want to get out of here for a while?" JP asked.  "Sure," Gabriella answered.  "I have tickets to the Red Sox game.  Down third base line.  They're wicked good seats," JP said, waiving the tickets in front of her.  "Yeah, I'll go.  I don't have anything else to do. 

         He took her to the game, and they talked.  JP assumed that Gabriella was in college, but wasn't 21 yet.  She said that he got part of it right.  She did tell him that she was going back to school in the fall.  She didn't tell him that she went to St. Michael the Archangel Catholic High School in San Francisco, and she was one of the nerdy kids that played in the band.  She was on the drum line.  He asked where she went to school.  She told him a Catholic school.  JP assumed Notre Dame, Marquette, or Georgetown.  Gabriella just didn't finish the answer. 

         "Thanks for taking me to a game.  My dad really doesn't have time while I'm here for the summer," Gabriella said as she reapplied her lipstick after a beer and some street meat.  "I miss Boston and I miss the Red Sox.  It seems like everyone where I am is Giants fan," she mused as JP walked her out of Fenway Park.  He reached for her hand.  She took it.  "Do you want to go back to my house for a while?" JP asked.  "As long as you keep your dirty Paddy hands to yourself," Gabriella joked.  "I promise.  Irish guys know how to keep their hands to themselves.  Keeps us from having to go to confession."
         
         He didn't want to keep his hands to himself.  She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.  Sure, he had dated his share of great looking and intelligent women, but she was different.  There was just something not right about her.  Something she wasn't telling him. 
         At this point, he really didn't care.  She had a few beers, and seemed to be sitting closer and closer to him.  She didn't see him as being particularly attractive or "hot", but there was something about him.  His dark eyes and his dark hair seemed to fit him perfectly.  He had a strong looking face and a stocky body to match.  He would have been considered "fat" by some of her friends back in San Francisco. Besides, he was behaving himself, and wasn't trying to force himself on her.  They just sat and talked, while having a few more beers and JP gave a play by play of the game for the guys in the neighborhood.  There were a few cat call referring to the wicked hottie sitting with him.  JP set them straight and yelled for them to show some respect to the lady.  Gabriella thought that was great.  Her little high school boyfriend back in California would have never done that.  He would have said something like, "Yeah, she's hot.  I know. I'm the one that's doing her." 

         Her pager went off.  It was her dad.  "I need to use your phone.  Is that ok?" she asked.  "Sure.  Anything you want," JP said opening the door for her.  She called her father.  He was furious that she hadn't called.  She explained that she had been invited to go to a game with some old friends from elementary school she ran into walking home. (FUCKING LIAR!!!)  And she was just hanging out, but would be home later.  The package had been delivered without incident.  Her father informed her that she needed to be home by midnight, but he wasn't going to be there.  He had a late dinner with a few "business partners from New Jersey".  She knew she could be out all night if she wanted to. 
         That was her plan. She liked JP and wanted to know what it would be like to sleep with an older man. She soon got her wish.
         JP took her hand.  He lead her to the couch.  She followed.  They sat down, and he lit one of the large candles on the coffee table.  He leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips.  She kissed him back.  JP pulled back from her.  "I can't do this.  I could get killed for being here with you," he whispered.  "No one's going to find out," Gabriella said quietly, leaning over to kiss him again.  Their lips met.  She opened her mouth and let his tongue in.  Their tongues met and slid a crossed one another.  The kiss became more passionate.  He reached out and touched her breasts over her blouse.  She wrapped her arms around him and moved closer to him.  He gently caressed her breast, and his other arm closed in around her back to pull her even closer to him.  She slid onto his lap and felt his cock start to harden.  Her nipples were standing at attention, and he could feel them through her blouse and her bra.  A small moan escaped from her lips as he kissed her neck.  His breathing became deeper and more urgent.  She let go of him and slipped her blouse up over her head.  He kissed her neck, then down in between her breasts.  He pushed them together in her bra and ran his tongue down her cleavage.  She arched her back, exposing her hardened nipples from underneath her bra.  He licked them and sucked on them.  He stopped and pulled her up to him. 
         "Do you want to stay here tonight?" he asked, brushing her hair away from her face.  "Take me to your bedroom," she panted.  She gracefully rolled off of him.  He stood up, exposing his erection through his pants.  He bent down and picked her up, cradling her in his arms and took her to his bedroom. 
         JP laid her on his bed, and he took off his shirt, and undid his pants.  He let them fall to the floor.  She could see his hard shaft through his boxer shorts.  He laid down on the bed next to her.  His hands quickly undid her Guess? shorts and pulled them off exposing the light blue panties she had on.  His hand ran across her tight belly.  "Do you want this?" he asked making sure she really wanted him.  "Please, JP.  Just touch me," she whispered as he unhooked her bra.  He kissed her and let his hand wander down under her panties.  He felt her soft pubic hair, and let his fingers enter her.  She moaned and strained towards him.  He stroked her clit softly with his thumb while this middle finger penetrated her. 
         He wanted all of her.  He wanted to keep her.  He didn't want anyone else to have her.  Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. . .
         She managed to reach down and pull his boxer shorts down.  He finished pulling them off with his free hand, then pulled her panties completely off.  He spread her legs apart effortlessly, and she stroked his cock.  His breathing quickened, and a small groan came out of his mouth.  She kissed his neck and his chest,  He slid his fingers out of her and moved closer to her.  He touched her gently with his fingertips,  and moved over her.  She grabbed him and guided him into her.  She drew in a breath, and with one thrust, he entered her.  He moved slowly, rhythmically.  In deeper and deeper.  "Am I hurting you," he asked.  "No, oh, God, JP, you feel so good," she moaned as his lips met hers. 
         They fucked passionately, more passionately than he had ever experienced.  He held onto her, feeling her tight wetness all around him.  She felt herself begin to climax.  She wanted him to know.  She could feel his cock inside of her, his lips on hers. She started to shudder, and held him tightly.  He felt wonderful, and he wasn't smashing her into the bed, but hovering over her, his chest barely touching hers, and it was driving her wild.  She shivered and moaned his name.  "Gabriella, I want you," he whispered.  "Take me," she panted.  His back arched and with one mighty thrust, he came inside her. 
         Not wanting to crush her, he rolled over onto his side, not pulling out of her.  She rested her leg around his waist.  He kissed her gently on the forehead.  "You are without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I have ever been with.  And I don't mean that in a wham bam thank you ma'am sort of way," he quietly whispered in her ear.  "I think I'm in love with you," he finished, hoping she would not get up and run. 
         Gabriella was confused.  "I don't know what to say to that," she answered quietly.  "You don't have to say anything.  Just stay here tonight.  I want to have you again.  Just don't leave," he begged.  "I won't leave," she said drifting off to sleep. 
         JP held her in the darkness, watching her sleep.  He secretly wished something would happen so that she would be his forever.  His eyes grew heavy, and he was soon asleep.

         The next morning, Gabriella hastily got dressed and quietly tried to leave.  She searched for her little beatle boots, and did her best to get out of there before JP woke up.  Her plan was foiled when he called to her.  "Gabriella, where are you going?" he called from the bedroom.  "I need to go," she said walking back into the bedroom.  She bent down to him and kissed his forehead.  “Thanks for everything JP,” Gabriella said as she quickly fled the room before JP could stop her.

         This is just one of Gabriella’s many adventures that she wouldn’t forget.  JP was wondering when he would get to see her again. . .