Disclosures - SF4

by Meagher, Susan X

  "Yeah, it looked like old Andi was punching her card regularly," Ryan joked.

  "It was nice to see that she’s found someone," Jamie agreed. "But it did freak me out to have even a lesbian see me there. I really don’t want to be in the newspaper, Ryan." She looked up at her partner, trying to think of alternatives. "I do want to go, though. Would it bother you to just watch?"

  "Hard to say," Ryan mused. "I’ve never just watched the parade." She pondered the question for a moment and decided, "I think it would be hard for me to sit for that long, to tell you the truth. We’d have to be there by nine or so to get a good spot, and the parade will last until at least one."

  "Hmmm," Jamie didn’t want to disappoint her partner, but she really felt nervous about the motorcycle group. "I wouldn’t mind being in the parade if we were with a less visible group," she mused.

  Ryan’s eyes lit up at this suggestion. "Really? No problem, Babe. Pick the group you feel comfortable with and we’ll do it!"

  "What?" Jamie was shaking her head in surprise. "How do we do that?"

  "I was invited to join at least ten different groups this year. You decide which one you want, and we’ll do it!"

  Jamie continued to shake her head as she regarded her industrious partner. "You always have a back-up plan, don‘cha, Baby?"

  Jamie was in the middle of picking up her scattered clothing from the night before when she asked, "Honey? How did you know what size to buy me? These clothes fit perfectly."

  "Thank you," Ryan beamed. "That’s one of my many skills." She was waggling an eyebrow as Jamie tossed one of the heavy boots at her.

  "Come on, tell me how you do that."

  "Okay," Ryan acquiesced. "I went to the store and found a helpful sales clerk. I showed her what size you were, and we found pants to fit."

  "You ‘showed’ her what size I am?" Green eyes twinkled with mirth as Jamie tried to guess how that particular verb was appropriate.

  "Yep."

  Ryan looked completely pleased with herself, and Jamie had to know the details. "Go on…"

  Standing next to her partner, Ryan closed her eyes. She took her hands and held them at about waist level on Jamie, and moved them apart until she was satisfied. "Okay, grab those pants, zip them up, and hold them up to my hands."

  Furrowing her brow in question, Jamie did so. To her amazement, the pants, when tugged into shape, extended just to each of Ryan’s hands. Even with her eyes closed, Ryan knew she had done it again, and her twitching brow indicated her pride.

  "That is truly remarkable," Jamie marveled.

  "I can do it with your bra, too, but that would be more embarrassing than even I could tolerate!"

  The first hints of breakfast were starting to waft down the stairs, and Ryan grinned widely when she noticed them. "Oooh, Da’s home," she said with considerable glee. "Even better—he’s making breakfast," she added with a pair of bouncing eyebrows. "Let's get some breakfast and get going."

  "Aren't we going to shower first?" Jamie asked, since that was their habit.

  "I told you we were on our good behavior before," she teased. "You're in for a rude awakening."

  Ryan rummaged through her drawers to find some cotton knit pajama bottoms and a matching long sleeved knit shirt. "Do you have any pajamas?" she asked her partner.

  "No, I didn't think I'd need any in Pebble Beach…and I was right," she reminded her. "I'll just grab my sweats." Ryan was waiting to go, but Jamie hated to be rushed so she urged her to go ahead. "You run on up, Baby. I want to make a phone call first, okay?"

  "Okay, but you’d better hurry. I’m particularly hungry, and I think Conor is up, too. Food disappears fast when we’re together."

  "I’ve noticed," Jamie observed dryly, giving her partner a pat on the butt as a sendoff.

  Ryan dashed up the stairs, pleased to find Martin, Brendan and Conor enjoying a big breakfast. "Brendan!" she said with pleasure as she threw her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I had no idea you were here. When did you come over?"

  "Just a few minutes ago," he said. "I thought I could snag a decent breakfast before church."

  "When are you going?" she asked as she moved about the table, kissing Conor and her father.

  He looked at his watch and replied, "I could make 8 o'clock. But I think I'll stay and chat with you both and then go to 9:30."

  "Cool. We have to get going soon, but we can spare a little time to chat."

  "And just where would you two be off to so early? I assume you’re not going to give thanks to God?" Martin asked, a teasing grin belying his gruffness.

  "I give thanks to God every morning," Ryan replied honestly. "But my God makes house calls." She was already leaning over her father to kiss his cheek, and was unprepared for the sharp swat to her butt. "Yow!" she cried, rubbing the stinging flesh as she shot an outraged look his way.

  "I’ll have no such sacrilegious talk in my house on the Lord’s day," he scowled, and Ryan realized that he was only partially kidding. "You’re not too old for me to take you over my knee, Siobhán."

  Ryan gave him another kiss and took her place at the table. "No, but it’s a little late to start now, Da," she reminded him. "If you were going to beat us, you should have started when we were easier to control."

  He laughed at her guileless expression and commented, "Luckily, I have an ally in keeping you in line now. Where is my daughter-in-law, anyway?"

  "Yeah, we wanted to harass you both at the same time," Conor chortled, drawing a blush from his sister.

  "Give her a break, Conor," Brendan chided, unable to hide a grin.

  "It’s not every day we get a new victim," Conor said logically. "It’s pretty sweet, really. We get to torture Ryan about sex, and we get Jamie thrown in to boot!"

  Just then a pale blonde head poked into the dining room and popped back out just as quickly. Ryan spotted the movement and called out in a soothing tone, "Come on in, Honey, I’ll thump ‘em if they give you too hard a time."

  "Hey!" Brendan cried. "I’m on your side, Sis!" He looked over to see Jamie once again peek into the room. "There’s my favorite sister-in-law," he beamed. "Come over here and give me a hug."

  She broke into a big smile and came up to the table as he stood and wrapped his arms around her, "I'm really happy for you both," he said sincerely.

  Martin hopped up and offered a similarly warm embrace. "You’re the first addition to our family in almost 24 years, Jamie," he murmured, holding her close. "I guess it’s true that good things come to those who wait."

  She struggled to hold back the tears as the powerful arms released her. Brendan tried to lighten the mood by teasing. "Conor and Rory are really going to have to work to come up with a better sister-in-law than you, Jamie."

  Conor held up his hands in surrender. "We both concede," he said with a twinkle in his clear blue eyes. "Ryan wins, hands down."

  Jamie was blushing deeply as she remarked, "I think I'm the lucky one. I told Ryan just last night that if she ever dumped me, I would make a play for one of you."

  Ryan got up and slid her arm around her partner's shoulder as she said, "Don't get your hopes up, boys. We're in this for the long haul."

  Martin smiled at the two of them, a lump forming in his throat as he witnessed their obvious joy. "Sit down and have some breakfast before it gets cold, you two. Now where did you say you were off to, Siobhán?" By the time he finished his question he was already bustling around noisily, getting breakfast ready for the female members of the family.

  "I didn’t say," she replied, raising her voice just enough for her father to hear her in the kitchen. "You started beating me before I could get a word in."

  At Jamie’s shocked look, Martin shouted back, "Don’t listen to a word she says, Jamie. It’s the devil in her talking this morning."

  "I’m just now becoming familiar with that little devil," Jamie called back, leaning over to place a gentle kiss on the devilish cheek. "To answer your question, Martin,
this little devil is taking me to my first gay pride parade."

  "Oh, is she now?" he laughed, exiting the kitchen with platters full of steaming hot food balanced along his arms.

  "Are you sure you’re up for that, Jamie?" Conor asked with twinkling eyes. "She used to run with a pretty wild crowd, you know."

  "Like you would know," Ryan scoffed, quite certain that Conor’s opinion was based more on fancy than fact.

  "I’ve learned an awful lot about Ryan’s past over the last couple of weeks," Jamie laughed. "I don’t think she can shock me much at this point."

  Ryan just grinned at her, sharing a wink with her mischievous brother, whose fantasies were actually close to the truth.

  "So are you ready to lead the parade?" Conor asked. "If you don’t have an outfit picked out, I’d recommend the recent trend of a tiny little X made of electrical tape that you put over your nip…" the rest of his wish was cut off by his father’s large hand clamping over his mouth.

  "I’ll not have you two harassing poor Jamie in this house," he decreed firmly.

  "Two?" Brendan cried. "Don’t paint me with that brush, Da!"

  "Fair warning to the lot of you. Jamie’s not used to that kind of talk, and I’ll not have it!"

  "It’s okay, Martin," she assured him, feeling much more comfortable now that they boys were teasing her like a member of the family. "I can take whatever Ryan dishes out; I’m sure I can handle anything Conor might throw at me."

  Conor’s bright blue eyes lit up at this opening, but before a single syllable could form on his lips his father’s hand was once again covering his mouth. "Dishes!" he ordered. "Now!"

  While Conor went to serve his punishment, Jamie looked at the remaining men and said, "We can't thank you all enough for the wonderful presents you left for us last night. It really made it special to come home to."

  "We relied on Maeve’s expert guidance to help us put that together," Martin admitted. "How did we do?"

  "Everything looks great," Ryan said, carefully avoiding the question. Conor was carrying emptied dishes into the kitchen, and he shot her a smirk, picking up on her evasion. "We haven't tried everything yet, but we'll give you a full report when we do."

  Ryan tore into breakfast like she hadn't eaten in a week. She cleaned every morsel of food from every platter, shifting her eyes from plate to plate to ascertain that no one had left a spare bite. The boys stared at her in shocked silence, but Martin just got up and went into the kitchen. They heard the pans rattling around as he called out, "How many and how do you want them?"

  "Three. Sunny side up," Ryan replied with a grin. "Do we have any bagels?" she called out.

  "Rye or poppy seed?"

  "Both," she said decisively, to the continued stare of her brother. "I'm hungry," she said rather defensively as she shrugged her shoulders.

  "Being in love sure hasn't hurt your appetite," Brendan marveled.

  "Don't tease your sister," Martin's voice boomed from the kitchen. "Jamie's just got some weight back on her, I'm pleased to see. But you still need to add a few more pounds, Darlin," he added.

  "This morning ought to take care of at least five pounds," Conor joked as he re-entered the dining room. Before he sat, he leaned down and whispered into Ryan's ear, "You didn't have a bite of food last night, did you?"

  Her deep blush was her only answer.

  When they returned to their room, Jamie looked at the list Ryan had made and chose the group that held the most meaning in her heart. Ryan looked over her shoulder and nodded, having a very good idea that would be her choice. "Our buddies won’t recognize us on our mountain bikes," Ryan laughed softly, thinking of how easy it had been on the AIDS Ride to spot Jamie on her bright orange bike.

  "I had no idea that a group from the AIDS Ride participated in the Gay Pride March," the smaller woman murmured, now getting very excited about the day.

  "Yep. And if the logistics work out, we’ll have time to join another group or two if you want. We might as well indoctrinate you fully!"

  Their racing bikes were somewhere between L.A. and San Francisco, sent via bus after the ride. Luckily, both mountain bikes were at Ryan’s, and since those were better for riding on city streets anyway, everything was working out well.

  An hour later they were gliding down a steep hill, rolling onto Market Street in the light early morning traffic. Jamie had never gotten used to riding in the city, so Ryan stayed behind to give her a small illusion of safety. The morning was cool, but amazingly clear, with not a wisp of the usual morning fog.

  They both wore their purple, long-sleeved AIDS Ride shirts and black bike shorts, and Jamie added a light jacket against the morning chill.

  They were about three blocks from 1st St. when they could hear the first sounds of activity. It was a faint thrumming that grew and grew as they drew closer. Jamie turned to give her partner a startled look as the noise level evened out at a dull roar. Turning a corner, they were hit with a burst of color and noise that almost caused the smaller woman to fall off her bike.

  Stretched out in front of them, as far as the eye could see, were floats and bands and classic cars, and groups of people on horseback, motorcycles, bicycles and of course, on foot. At first, it looked like complete chaos, but after a moment of staring in openmouthed amazement, Jamie began to see order within the chaotic jumble.

  When she looked closely, each group was standing or sitting by a large poster board sign that identified them by name and number. Some groups wore Tshirts that further identified them; as she took it all in, she felt a comforting hand on her back. "Overwhelmed?" a soft voice asked gently.

  "I’ve seen pictures in the paper, but…I had no idea," Jamie murmured slowly.

  Ryan chuckled a little at the look on her partner’s face. "This is just the early call, Babe. Our group is the second one out, so we have to be here early. New groups will be arriving every half-hour or so until this street is filled and cleared at least six times."

  Jamie turned slowly and tried to express herself clearly. "Are these all our gay people?" she asked, rather inelegantly.

  Ryan cocked her head slightly, trying to discern the meaning of the question. "Our gay people?" she repeated slowly, then realization dawned. "Oh! I get it! You mean are these all locals?"

  "Yeah," she blushed. "It seems like an awful lot of people to just be from San Francisco. I mean, people joke that everyone here is gay, but given this crowd…" she trailed off, having already stated the obvious.

  "No, Honey," Ryan said. "These people are mostly from the Bay Area, but that’s a pretty big area, as you know. Beside locals, though, there are lots and lots of visiting groups, mostly from Northern California, but there are some people from around the country, and even from other countries."

  "Wow," she muttered, leaning against Ryan as well as she could given her position, still atop her bike. "That’s still a lot of people." After staring for another moment she asked, "Do other cities have this?"

  "Yeah," Ryan said. "Lots of cities around the world have pride events. Ours and New York’s are the biggest, though."

  "That’s nice," the smaller woman said decisively. "We shouldn’t get to have all the fun."

  Well, well, well, Ryan mused as they walked their bikes the rest of the way to better observe the crowd. It seems like my little neophyte is acclimating pretty darned well.

  At 10:30 on the dot, the motorcycles started to rev their engines, as they waited impatiently at Market and Beale. The traditional leaders of the parade--the group now formally known as the Women’s Motorcycle Contingent, but constantly referred to as "Dykes on Bikes"--were given the signal and they roared away, two by two. Ryan felt a small stab of longing, having ridden with her buddies since she was 18. But the fleeting wish in no way dampened her deep satisfaction at being able to share the parade with her partner.

  She had often taken a date to the parade, and had once gone with Ally, but she had never shared the event with anyone who really mattered to her. While
they waited to get the signal, she decided that being a part of the parade with Jamie made all of the difference in the world. She was now able to view the event through her partner’s novice eyes, and she found that it was a deeply satisfying experience.

  For the past hour and a half, Jamie had been a veritable whirlwind of questions, exclamations and exhortations. They walked around investigating every little cache of people; Ryan proudly introduced her partner to everyone that she had even a passing acquaintance with.

  Now, as they awaited their sendoff, Jamie turned to her with a luminous smile and said, "Thank you so much for making this safe for me, Ryan. I’m so glad I didn’t let my fears stop me from coming."

  "You’re up!" the co-coordinator shouted, before Ryan could say a word, and their group started to roll. Rounding the corner onto Market, the thunderous applause that greeted them brought tears to the eyes of most of the riders, who were spread across the street, six abreast.

  When they met up with their group, Jamie was amazed to see so many familiar faces from the just-finished AIDS Ride. They walked through their pack just before they took off, so that Jamie could count everyone. She lost count at 105, and Ryan was unwilling to start over, so she satisfied herself with the knowledge that more than 100 of her peers had come out to join in the festivities.

  Much to their surprise, Karen Joncas had come over from Sacramento, and they were able to spend a few minutes giving her a honeymoon update.

  "I don’t really need to ask how it went," she laughed when she took in the beaming duo. "If you two looked any happier you’d be illegal!"

  Giving Jamie a healthy squeeze, Ryan agreed. "This should be a controlled substance. In the wrong hands this could be lethal!"

  "I’m just glad that it’s in your capable hands, ‘O’," she said with genuine affection, as she ruffled Ryan’s hair. "It couldn’t happen to a better person."

  As they rolled down the wide street, Jamie considered how grateful she was that they did not have their road bikes. Those temperamental lightweight frames not only didn’t fare well over potholes, they also responded much too quickly to steering corrections. Since she felt absolutely compelled to wave to nearly every person on the route, she knew she would have been eatin’ pavement if she hasn't been astride the more forgiving mount.