Dagmars Daughter by Kim Echlin

Donal had given her no sign and that Colin was trying to take her over. She’d made no decision, yet a choice had been made. Colin was cocky. He kept her from her work in the greenhouse and sidled between her and anyone else who wanted to be around. He stirred things up in her and divided her from herself.
    They settled down to watch the sea and they drank a lot. Colin said, Do you know what they do with a Chinese bride? They blindfold her and all the men come up to kiss her. He squatted, hands drumming his thighs restlessly, the sky rosy and thick with clouds. He said, Then they ask her which man is her husband.
    Donal snorted drunkenly. The air chilled when Dagmar looked into the sky. Donal pushed Colin’s shoulder roughly and said, What a thing! Colin shoved him back hard. Stripping off his T-shirt Colin said, Dagmar and I are getting married. Let’s play kiss the bride.
    Dagmar looked at Colin. What made him think she was going to marry him? What made him think he could say such a thing and not ask her?
    No, said Donal.
    Colin tied his shirt over Dagmar’s eyes and said, Kiss her and whichever of us she chooses makes love with her here and now. The loser goes back to the dory and waits.
    He took another drink and passed Dagmar the bottle.
    He thinks he can just take over my life, she thought. She laughed recklessly and said, mocking them both, And what would make one man’s kiss different from another’s?
    Donal shook his head and Colin said, Coward. Look, Dag’s ready, aren’t you? She’s not afraid, she loves it. Don’t you, Dag?
    Dagmar had grown up under kitchen tables listening to women drink mugs of tea and talk of love as if it were a leaky skiff. Her father was nothing but her mother’s memory. She could not reckon how her body still quickened at the sight of Colin in spite of her mind’s strong resistance. Norea always said, Listen to your heart. But here she was nineteen and no man left on the island for her but these two wanderers. She needed to shift their attention back to her. She pulled off her blindfold and slipped out of her clothes.
    I’m going for a swim. When I come back I’ll be ready.
    Colin and Donal watched her firm bottom disappear into the water. She wrapped the cold ocean like green lacquer around her and was pleased with the silence inspired by her nakedness. The young men shifted from their anger to wanting her, feelings twisted like seaweed around an anchor. She plunged into the light waves, freer than she’d felt in weeks. She returned shivering and water-beaded back up the shore. She patted herself dry with Colin’s shirt and when he blind-folded her she had an idea.
    Colin kissed her first, his sensual familiar kiss. His scent filled her and she softened all over again. His breath beat out a rhythm that filled her body and the sky. He wanted her but he couldn’t own her, would never own her. He drew away and then she smelled Donal approach. His kiss was a fluttering tentative thing, an apology, a humiliation to be got over.
    She pretended to deliberate and said unsteadily, as if more drunk than she really was, Colin is the second one who kissed me.
    Silence slashed the shore in two. Colin cursed, picked up their bottle and drained it in a long drink, then smashed it on the rocks as he walked away.
    Donal squatted beside Dagmar, untied her blindfold, picked up her shirt from the stones and awkwardly draped it over her. He said, You made a mistake.
    Dagmar answered steadily, No I didn’t.
    His limbs were thin and eager as a boy’s and his powerful fingers traced her body da baccio in the only way he knew to touch, but he could not speak.
    When they drew apart Dagmar said, I’m pregnant.
    He said, Already?
    She laughed. Donal’s heart went blank. He might have said he loved her, that he had always wanted to make his home in her, that he had a dress in a box ready for her, but he was perplexed by her cheeky heedlessness and could not think. He got up and dressed and handed