"Mmm … pretty good, I guess. I still struggle with my guilt feelings, but I’ve resigned myself to having to live with them."
"Do you honestly believe that, Ryan?"
"Yeah, I do. I’m profoundly disappointed in myself, Amanda, and I don’t think I’ll ever think of myself as a brave woman again. I’m going to have to live with that."
"We’ve talked about this before, but at this point I’m going to push you a little. I think you need to get into a small group setting and talk with other people who have been through traumatic situations."
"No, I really don’t wanna do that," Ryan said immediately. "Besides, it’s hard enough to find the time to talk to you, Amanda. I can’t spend any more time on therapy."
"Then we can reduce our sessions, Ryan," the older woman said. "I don’t normally try to coerce you into doing things, but at this point I have to concede that we’re not making progress on this point. I truly believe that you’ll be better served by talking to other people who’ve been through what you have. I feel strongly about this."
There was dead silence on Ryan’s end for a full minute. "I don’t want to."
"I know that," Amanda acknowledged. "But you also don’t want to spend the rest of your life feeling guilty, do you? You owe it to yourself to get past this, Ryan, and I believe this is the way to go."
"Fine," the younger woman said with no enthusiasm. "How do I find a group?"
"I have some contacts," Amanda said. "Let me make a few calls and see if I can find a group for you. Would you prefer for it to be in Berkeley?"
"Yeah, I guess so. But, I don’t have much free time, Amanda. Actually, the only time I have available is before 8 a.m."
The doctor laughed softly. "Don’t think that will put me off, Ryan. I’m as determined as you are."
"I feel sorry for your partner," Ryan said, finally giving in and laughing as well.
On Wednesday evening, Ryan ate hurriedly, since her advisor, Vijay, was coming over.
"What are you two little math nerds working on tonight?" Jamie asked.
"Mmm … actually, it’s not math tonight. He’s helping me with a program I’m writing."
"A program? A computer program?"
"Yep," Ryan confirmed, as she stood to collect the dishes from the table.
"Is it for your independent study?" Jamie asked.
"Nope. It’s uhm … extracurricular," Ryan said, finding the word particularly apt. She walked into the kitchen and started to do the dishes, turning to meet Jamie’s eyes when she walked in behind her. "You can hang out if you want. It’s no big secret. It’s something I’d like to learn, and Vijay is a programming genius."
"Mmm … maybe I will," she said. "I’d like to see how you two work together."
Jamie had a load of her own studies to concentrate on, but she had a niggling desire to observe her partner working with another person. She had the faint hope that listening to Ryan have to put words to her thoughts might help her to understand the way her mind worked.
Vijay and Ryan had been upstairs for about an hour when Jamie went up with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk for Ryan, and a Coke for Vijay. "Keep working," she said when she entered the room to two pair of eyes meeting hers. "I thought you’d like a snack."
They nodded almost identically, and Jamie had to hide a smile. Math nod, she thought to herself. They had a long stream of flow-chart paper laid out on the floor, and the pair started speaking to each other in a language that had some familiar elements, but certainly did not sound like English. I’m sure she doesn’t speak Urdu or Hindi, Jamie mused, resisting the urge to scratch her head in puzzlement. After a few minutes, she stepped out of the room, unnoticed by either of the programmers. Passing Mia in the hall she said, "Wanna get a brain cramp? Stick your head in there and listen to those two. They are otherworldly."
Jamie had been studying in the library and, finding herself in dire need of some form of caffeine, she made for the kitchen, coming in the seldom-used side door of the room.
She thought she heard some quiet sounds emanating from the room, and her suspicions were confirmed when she spied her lover standing at the sink. About to speak, she instead concentrated on the show her quirky partner was putting on.
The dark beauty was focusing fiercely, her concentration complete, as she attempted to peel a large navel orange – all in one, long piece. That part wasn’t so odd, and Jamie had grown used to her partner’s need to devise little games and tests of various arcane skills. Jamie pondered that the dance Ryan was performing may have been part of her need to challenge herself, but the longer she watched, the more she was sure that her partner only needed to go to the bathroom.
Ryan was hopping from foot to foot, her butt twitching as she shifted her weight back and forth repeatedly. Her tongue was sticking out about a half of an inch, and a low hum came from her partially open mouth.
"Ryan." A startled gasp came from the oblivious woman, and Jamie had to laugh at her expression.
"Don’t disturb me! I’m almost done."
Jamie strode over to her, and extended both hands. "Give it to me right now and get into the bathroom! I swear, you’re worse than Caitlin!"
Thoroughly chagrined, Ryan handed it over like a guilty schoolgirl, dipping her chin as she peered at Jamie through her long bangs. "Don’t ruin it," she ordered, then promptly ran for the blessedly convenient bathroom. She emerged minutes later, a look of sublime pleasure on her face. "Does anything feel better than that?" she moaned.
"I can think of several things," Jamie contradicted. "And if you didn’t ignore your body’s signals so frequently, you’d give that experience the scant regard it deserves."
"You don’t know how to have fun," Ryan insisted, sniffing pointedly as she held out her hands for her prize. With another few seconds of concentrated effort, the orange was perfectly peeled, and she regarded it with satisfaction. "I’m an artist," she declared, holding the end of the peel with her other hand, letting it dangle.
"You’re a lunatic," Jamie insisted with a wide smile. "Did Vijay leave?"
"Uh-huh. He’s gonna come back next week and check on my progress."
Jamie walked to the refrigerator and took out a Diet Coke. "Hey, did you remember that next week is Valentine’s Day?" She was trying hard to sound casual, realizing that it was hard to put anything over on her hyper-alert lover.
"Nah. Can’t be. It’s in two weeks," Ryan insisted, stopping to look at her watch. Using all of her dramatic talents, she made a face, then looked up at Jamie. "Guess you’re right," she said. "Do you want to do anything to commemorate it?"
"You don’t?" the blonde asked, more than a little shocked and slightly perturbed.
‘Well, we’ll just be getting back from Florida late the night before." She shrugged, looking slightly bored. "Anyway, does it matter now that we’re together? I thought Valentine’s Day was for people who were dating."
Jamie set her bottle down on the counter and crossed her arms, glaring at Ryan with fierce green eyes. "Hell, yes, it matters! What’s wrong with you, anyway? I thought that being with a woman would relieve some of the ‘I’m just a guy and I don’t know how to be romantic’ shit that I had to put up with my whole life!"
"Okay, okay!" Ryan soothed, holding up her hands in supplication. "I didn’t know the rules, but I can learn. Don’t take my head off!"
She sighed and shook her head slowly. "I’m sorry. It’s our first Valentine’s Day together," she said, looking deeply wounded, "and I’ve never had a nice one. I thought you’d …" She trailed off, staring at the floor, thoroughly dejected.
"Hey," Ryan murmured, crossing the room quickly to slip her arms around her partner. "I’m just messing with your mind. I’ve already got something planned." Thank you Catherine and Mia, she said in silent offering.
"You do?" she asked suspiciously, looking up into Ryan’s eyes to gauge her sincerity.
"Yep. I really do. We don’t have practice that night, since we’re just ba
ck from a three-day tournament, so I arranged for us to do something a little different that afternoon."
"Okay," Jamie said slowly. "I was going to take you out to dinner. Can we do that, too?"
"Sure. This thing is over by five or so. Dinner would be great."
"Should I make reservations for someplace local?"
"Mmm … I’d rather go someplace in the city, if it’s all the same to you," Ryan said. "My thing’s in the city, and I don’t want to have to drive back over here during rush hour."
"I’ll think of someplace nice and romantic," Jamie promised. She snuggled up close to Ryan and murmured, "Sorry I was being such a baby. I was so stunned that you didn’t think it was important."
"I do think it’s important," Ryan whispered as she held her close. "Any chance I have to tell you how much I love you is very, very important."
Ryan knew it was wrong, but she snuck into Mia’s room later that night and closed the door behind her. "Do you have any idea where Jamie’s taking me to dinner for Valentine’s Day?"
The curly-haired brunette looked up from her book with exaggerated indifference. "I might. What’s it worth to ya?"
"Mmm … it’s worth Jamie having a memorable night, and since you’re her best friend, that should be reason enough for you."
"Keep going," Mia said. "You’re not there yet."
Ryan reached into her wallet and extracted a calling card that she kept for road trips. "This one has about $20.00 left on it," she guessed, extending it to Mia. "That would let you spend the evening talking to your sweetheart on Valentine’s Day."
"Sold," Mia declared. "You’re going to Farallon. Nice place from what I’ve heard."
"Thanks," Ryan said, heading for the door. "I won’t tell Jamie that you sold her out for only $20.00."
"She’s known me for almost eight years now. She’ll be surprised I held out for that much!"
"Farallon. How may I help you?" the cultured voice answered, when Ryan called later that night.
"Uhm, hi," Ryan said. "My partner and I are having dinner at your restaurant on Valentine’s Day. I’d like to do something special for her that night, and I was wondering if you have any suggestions for how to surprise her with a ring. I’m sure you’ve seen every trick in the book."
"Ah, yes, Valentine’s Day. Yes, I would say that, over the years, I have seen that day commemorated in every possible way. Did you have anything particular in mind?"
"Is there any way to surprise her with the ring during the meal?"
"I could go on," he sniffed dryly, "but the easiest way is to hand it to her. Much less fuss."
"Is that the best you’ve got?"
"I have many, many suggestions, I assure you. But handing it to her is the only way that I can guarantee your success." He paused dramatically and added, "If she accepts your proposal of course. I can’t help you at all in that area."
"What could go wrong?" Ryan wondered.
"Again, I could go on. There are problems too numerous to mention."
"Uhm … I know you’re the expert, but I’d like to surprise her in a non-traditional way."
He sighed, then said, "Well, we have a very nice heart-shaped flourless chocolate cake that we make that night. We could bake it into that."
"Bake it? Wouldn’t that hurt it?"
"Is the ring plastic?" he asked archly.
"No, it’s a very nice stone," she said. "In a gold band."
"Then it won’t be harmed by a little heat. If you like the idea, you can drop the ring off early in the day, or you can excuse yourself and come into the kitchen to drop it off before you order dessert."
"Uhm … I think I’ll come into the kitchen," she said, not liking the idea of leaving the ring unsupervised for any length of time.
"You can join the crowd," he said. "It’s a complete madhouse in that kitchen, with nervous men watching to make sure their ring gets into the correct dessert."
"No women?" Ryan asked, chuckling.
"I think you’ll be the first," he admitted. "But we at Farallon thrive on variety."
Before bed, Ryan went into the kitchen to make some cocoa, and before she was half done, both Jamie and Mia were sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for their portions. "You two sure do have keen senses of smell," the tall brunette said. "You’re like bloodhounds."
"You make the best cocoa in the world, Ryan," Mia said, licking her lips.
"My mom taught me to make it," Ryan said, a thoughtful look on her face. "It was the first thing I ever learned to cook."
Jamie got up and slipped her arm around her partner, holding her close while Ryan stirred the rich mixture. Mugs in hand, they were halfway up the stairs when the phone rang, and Mia dashed to answer, thinking it might be Jordan. "Oh, hi, Conor," she said, her normal enthusiasm intentionally tamped down. "Yeah, she’s here. Hold on."
Ryan grasped the offered phone and said, "Hey, Con."
"Did you hear what that sneaky cousin of ours did?"
"Nope. I’ve heard nothing. What’s up?"
"Niall sold his house! He got an all-cash offer with a thirty day close. The agent I referred him to really came through for him."
"That’s great," Ryan said. "Why are you pissed?"
"After … I repeat … after … broker’s fees he’s gonna make $200,000! Two fucking hundred thousand dollars, Ryan!"
"Jeez … that’s a boatload of dough. What’s he gonna do with it?"
"Who cares?" he cried. "That’s not his money!"
"Uhm … whose is it?"
"It belongs to all of us! Maybe not you and Jamie, and some of the boys didn’t do all that much. But Frank, Donal, Padraig and I have put in hundreds of hours working on that dump! I didn’t mind doing it when I thought it was gonna be his home … but to line his pockets! No way!"
Ryan sighed, having a feeling that the other cousins probably felt as put-upon as Conor did. "I assume you’ve expressed your displeasure to Niall?"
"Of course I did. If you think I’m mad, you should hear Frank! I was afraid he was going to knock him senseless."
"What does Niall have to say?"
"Oh, he gave us some load of crap about how he was going to live there, but it didn’t work out. I don’t think he was ever serious about it, Ryan, and now he’s got a nest egg that none of the rest of us will ever be able to match! It sucks!"
Ryan rolled her eyes at her partner, who had come to sit next to her on the stairs. "Conor, you know as well as I do that Niall isn’t a long-range plan kinda guy. He bought the house before he thought it through, he fixed it up more than he ever should have, and as soon as someone suggested it – he sold it! He didn’t put ten minutes of thought into any element of the entire thing! Now, come on, I understand that you’re pissed to have put that kinda time in, but you’ll be paid back someday. If you ever want to have your own place, I’m sure all of the cousins will help you as much as they helped Niall. Think of your time investment as money in the bank. When you want to make a withdrawal, the family will be there to repay you."
"Yeah, you’re right on that point, Ryan, but Niall can withdraw something a little more tangible than I can. I swear, if he buys a hot car and starts flaunting it …"
"Conor, Niall is the most frugal of all of us. He’s not going to do that. Now, chill, will you? You can’t turn back time, and other than giving you a share of the money, there isn’t much Niall can do to make it up to you. If he offered you money, would you take it?"
There was a short silence as Conor had to admit, "No, I wouldn’t. But he didn’t even offer!"
"I understand that, Con, and I’m sorry you’re so bummed. I just don’t think Niall thought this through."
"Nah, he didn’t," he had to admit. "It clearly wasn’t his idea to sell." There was a short silence and then he chuckled and said, "Don’t think I don’t remember who put the idea into his head, either. Tell Jamie I’ve got a bone to pick with her."
"She was only trying to help, Con," Ryan said, snaking an arm aroun
d her partner and giving her a squeeze. "She didn’t know that Niall was so malleable."
"Oh, he’s malleable, all right. And he’d better have his malleable little ass right in the front of the line if I ever need his help!"
On Thursday afternoon, Jamie struggled through the small aisle of a 737, trying to keep up with her partner. For once, Ryan had much more luggage than she did, so they had checked their bags. But the taller woman had a thing about keeping her gloves with her, and somehow Jamie wound up carrying the gym bag, rather than her own carryon. The bag was not really heavy, but it was ungainly – since the gloves were bulky and irregularly shaped. Ryan’s computer and a number of her books were also in the bag, so Jamie had to be careful with it as she walked.
They reached their seats, and found that a civilian was sitting in the window seat. Jamie thought about trying to switch, but she decided to play nice and go along with the flow on this trip.
The last few stragglers made it onto the jet and Coach Roberts strolled up the aisle, counting heads. Satisfied that all were in place, he took his seat at the rear of the section and wasn’t heard from again.
"I don’t know why, but I had an image of this being a charter flight, with only you guys on it," Jamie said.
"No such luck. We don’t have enough players to need our own plane. We would if we shared with Stanford and St. Mary’s or San Jose State, but we tend to go to tournaments that they aren’t in."
"Are you looking forward to the tournament?" Jamie asked.
"Yeah. It’s a lot of softball crammed into a weekend, but with five games in three days I might get to play. How about you? Sure you don’t mind having your birthday away from home?"
Jamie squeezed her hand and said, "You’re my home. As long as we’re together, I’m happy."
The flight was uneventful, and things were well organized when they landed. After waiting for their luggage, the motley-looking crew made their way to a chartered bus that was waiting outside the terminal. When they were all settled in their seats, Coach Roberts stood at the front of the bus and said a few words.
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