"Oh, I went over to the city and stopped by Da's. Aunt Maeve made me a bunch of scones."
"What were you doing over there?" Jamie asked. She opened the refrigerator door and pulled out some cold cuts and condiments.
"I went to see Father Pender," Ryan said. She took the baguette that Jamie had purchased on her way home and started to slice it.
"I can't imagine why you did that," Jamie said. "Not getting enough frustration in the east bay?"
"Why don't I ask you about these things first?" Ryan said, looking disgusted with herself. "Sometimes I'm such a Pollyanna. I thought he would apologize for the Church's giving so much money to support Prop 22."
Jamie's eyes opened wide. "Apologize? He was probably the chief fundraiser."
Ryan's head dropped and she mumbled something to herself.
Jamie walked over to her and put her arms around her lover. "What's wrong, babe? Did he upset you?"
"Yeah … no … I don't know." Ryan didn't turn around; her body was tense and unyielding.
"Come on," Jamie said, tugging on her. Ryan let herself be turned, but she immediately put her head against Jamie's, shielding her face. "Tell me what's going on."
"Nothin'," the taller woman mumbled. "I just feel stupid. I shoulda known I was wasting my time." She took in a deep breath. "I don't know why I always think the best of people."
Jamie tightened her hold, squeezing her lover hard. "I love that about you. I hope you never get jaded. Don't feel bad about hoping for the best."
"It's one thing to hope," Ryan said. "It's another to expect it."
"That's what's so sweet about you," Jamie said, rocking the larger woman in her arms. "Don't change, baby, and don't feel stupid. You just have a good heart."
Ryan rubbed her face against her lover's head, letting the soft strands and floral scent soothe her. "Maybe I'll feel better after I eat."
"That's my girl," Jamie said, patting her butt. "A little food always makes the day seem brighter."
After dinner, Jamie and Ryan retired to their respective study spots, with Ryan working in their room until 9:00. She went downstairs to get a drink and stopped by the library for a moment. "How's it going?" she asked, looking at her partner lying on the sofa.
"Not well. I'm trying to write my opinion piece, but I'm clearly not in the mood."
"Can I help?"
"No. I don't think I need to talk about it; I need to get started. All I've been able to do is write an outline."
"That's something," Ryan said, giving her an encouraging smile. She walked into the room and sat down, putting Jamie's feet on her lap. "I didn't ask if you've told your mom you're doing this."
"Oh, yeah." She blinked. "Didn't I tell you that?
"Huh-uh."
"Damn, we're both so busy we're starting to lose track of each other." Jamie had a very glum look on her face, and her expression turned even more sour when she added, "I probably didn't say anything because she wasn't very enthusiastic."
"Really?" Ryan asked. "That doesn't sound like her."
"Oh, no," Jamie quickly replied. "She's supportive, but she's worried about my drawing attention to myself after spending two months trying to get away from the press."
Ryan smiled and nodded her understanding. "That does seem a little counterintuitive, doesn't it?"
Jamie's eyes widened, and she got up on one elbow. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing? I know you said that I should do this if it's important to me, but you haven't said what you really think."
"That's a tough one, babe." Ryan started to massage her partner's feet while she considered the question. "I don't like publicity, and my privacy means a lot to me, but making a statement about discrimination means a lot, too. I guess I'd sacrifice my privacy to take a stand, even one that put me in the limelight again. So, if I were you, I'd do it." She pulled Jamie's feet up and hugged them close, giving her a playful grin. "But I'd feel bad about putting my father in an awkward position-even though he's the one who stirred this all up to start with."
With a small grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, Jamie lay back down and gazed at Ryan for a moment. "Are you sure you're not me? 'Cause that's exactly how I feel."
"Makes perfect sense," Ryan agreed. "Just because you're angry doesn't mean you want to publicly humiliate him."
Wincing when she heard those words, Jamie asked, "Do you really think he'll be humiliated?"
Ryan nodded briefly. "Yeah. I think he might. You're going to officially come out very publicly, honey. And you're doing it in the legitimate press. I'm sure all of the major dailies will pick up the story as well as the newsweeklies." She rolled her eyes and added, "MSNBC will probably devote a week to it. But you're not just coming out-you're coming out to publicly chide him and all of the other lawmakers who've voted for these stupid bills. That combo is probably going to hurt and embarrass him."
The smaller woman made an unhappy grunt. "I think I need to talk to my grandfather about this. Maybe he can help me figure out if I'm doing this just to get back at my dad, or to do something that I feel is right."
"If you're going to do that tonight, you'd better do it now. He goes to bed early."
"You look pretty tired yourself, stretch."
Ryan stood and twisted around, loosening her muscles. "I am. I was thinking about getting into bed and reading until I fell asleep."
"Go ahead, honey. I'll call Papa and then try to write again. I'm not in the mood to sleep yet."
Walking to the door, the brunette raised an eyebrow. "Sure?"
"Yeah. Really. I'll kiss you when I come to bed."
Ryan walked back to the sofa and kissed Jamie, their lips touching softly for a few seconds. "I need a kiss while I'm awake," she whispered. "But I'll take one later, too."
"It's a deal." Jamie waved at her, then got up to make her call.
Part Five
The squeak of the hinges on the front door woke Jamie. She sat up quickly, realizing that she wasn't in her bed. She tossed off the blanket that covered her, not knowing how or when it had appeared. She rubbed her eyes and looked at her computer, seeing a note written in a large font.
Sleeping in the library is unacceptable! I need my cuddles!
XXXOOO
R
My girl loves me, Jamie thought, smiling to herself as she went upstairs to shower.
Catherine returned from her early morning walk feeling less invigorated than she usually did. She walked in the back door, smiling reflexively when Marta greeted her.
"What can I fix you for breakfast?" the cook asked.
"Oh, nothing special," Catherine said. "How about some fruit and coffee?"
"Let me make you an omelet or some hot cereal," Marta said, always trying to fill her employer up.
"No, fruit is enough," Catherine said. She sat down at the breakfast table and started to read the paper.
Marta set a cup of coffee next to her and noticed that Catherine's eyes weren't moving from the top half of the folded paper. She looked like she was staring rather than reading. Gently laying her hand on Catherine's shoulder, the older woman asked, "Are you not well?"
Catherine started, then shook her head a little. "I'm fine," she said, giving Marta another thin smile.
The cook stayed right where she was, gazing at Catherine with a penetrating look.
"Okay," Catherine said, her smile now looking reluctant. "I'm feeling a little down today."
"It's more than today," Marta said, her tone not allowing for dissent. "It's been weeks now."
Catherine pointed to the coffee pot. "Get a cup of coffee and sit with me."
"Let me make your breakfast first."
"Please, have a seat," Catherine said. "Maybe I'll be hungry in a few minutes, but I'm really not in the mood right now."
Marta got out a cup and added generous amounts of cream and sugar before she poured the strong, black coffee in. She sat next to Catherine and waited for her to speak.
"I'm lonely."
&n
bsp; The younger woman swallowed, and Marta could see how hard it was for her to admit to that. The cook didn't say a word, but she reached over and put her hand atop Catherine's, looking at her with sympathy.
"I've made a lot of changes this year, and even though they were right for me, I feel lost a lot of the time."
"Lost?" Marta asked. She wasn't at all sure what Catherine meant by that, and her expression reflected her confusion.
Catherine nodded while taking a sip of her coffee. "Rootless. I think that's the better word."
"How can I help?" Marta asked.
Smiling at the cook's offer, Catherine said, "I don't think you can. I have to get myself back on track."
Marta waited for a moment, thinking that Catherine was going to say more. When she didn't, she said, "It's hard having Mr. Evans gone, isn't it?"
The younger woman discreetly bit her lip, knowing she could burst into tears with very little help. "Yes. It's been very hard." She sat back and thought for a moment. "It's odd," she said. "In so many ways, he was a terrible husband, but in other ways, we had a nice relationship. He was always fun to go out with. He could be so funny," she said wistfully. "We'd be at some boring dinner, and he'd keep saying witty little things that made the time pass so quickly." She looked at Marta, embarrassed that she'd started to cry. "Why did he have to be such a cheat?"
"I don't know," Marta said, holding Catherine's hand. "But you deserve a man who wants to be with you."
"I know I do," Catherine said. "That's why I divorced him. But sometimes … sometimes I wish we could have stayed together. I know he'd never have been faithful, but I miss him." She wiped at her eyes with a napkin. "I miss the way it was after I'd find out about an affair, and he'd romance me just the way he did when we first met." She gave Marta a watery smile. "He can be very romantic, you know."
Marta looked at her for a long time, deciding whether or not she should say what was on her mind. Throwing caution to the wind, she said, "Does it feel romantic when he only does it to apologize?"
Catherine nodded. "Yes. If you want it badly enough, you can convince yourself of anything." She stood and walked to the counter, gesturing for Marta to stay seated. She poured another cup of coffee and returned to the table. "But it's not just losing Jim that has me down. I've lost all of my so-called friends. I don't have anyone to play tennis with anymore. No one calls me. No one asks me to lunch."
Marta started to speak, but Catherine stopped her. "I know. I know. They weren't real friends. Jim wasn't a real husband. But that was my real life, and it's gone now."
"You still have your charities," Marta said.
"I know I do, but they aren't enough to make me feel … important. I don't mean that the way it sounds," she said, "I mean … vital. Feeling like I'm needed."
"But Jamie and Ryan and Ryan's family …"
"Oh, yes," Catherine said, a half-smile showing. "I'm so happy when I'm with them. I honestly don't know how I'd make it without their support. But they're so busy now," she said. "They're gone every weekend, and I don't feel comfortable showing up on Martin and Maeve's doorstep looking for company."
"They'd love to have you," Marta said.
Smiling, Catherine agreed. "You're right. But that's not my style. I'm a woman who needs an invitation, and they're a family with an open-door policy." She took in a deep breath. "It would be different if I lived in the neighborhood. I could drop in just like everyone else does."
"Why don't you buy a house by them?" Marta asked.
Catherine thought about the idea for a moment, then shook her head. "I could, of course, but it's not … it's not my type of place." At Marta's inquiring look, she added, "It's a lovely neighborhood, and perfect for the O'Flahertys, but … it's not my neighborhood. I'd never fit in there." She took another sip of her drink. "I have to find my own way, Marta, and moving in next to the O'Flahertys just to have built-in friends isn't the way to do it. The South Bay is my home. I just have to find new friends down here." She gave her friend a hope-tinged smile. "There has to be someone down here who isn't a back-stabbing monster."
"I'm sure of it," Marta said, giving her employer her most confident smile.
While Catherine was dealing with her sadness, Ryan was at her therapy group, silently wrestling with her own demons. "Ryan," Ellen, the group leader, said, "you've been awfully quiet today. Would you like to contribute?"
"No." The dark-haired woman looked up, flashed a very brief, very insincere-looking smile and looked back down, seemingly staring at the button on her jeans.
"Sometimes the best days to talk are the days you least feel like it," the therapist said.
"Mmm," Ryan grunted, unmoved.
Undeterred by Ryan's gloomy silence, the woman said, "Since you don't want to talk, why don't I guess how you're feeling?" When she received only a shoulder shrug in answer, she continued. "Given what I know about you, I'd say that you're angry with yourself."
Ryan's head didn't move, but her eyes swiveled to look at Ellen. "I'd bet you get angry with yourself fairly often," the psychologist continued. "And I'd also bet that you don't cut yourself much slack."
A tiny smile started to break through, and Ryan nodded, having been called on that trait too many times to deny it.
"So, since we know that much, why don't you tell us the rest? Why are you angry?"
Ryan slapped her thighs with her hands, startling the rest of the group. "I'm sick of this!" she said loudly. "It's March! March! And I'm still weirded out by the car-jacking."
"It only happened at the end of December," Ellen reminded her. "That's not very long at all."
Giving her an insolent look, Ryan said, "It might not be long in your book, but it's a long time in mine. I've got a very busy life to live, and I don't have time for this shit!"
"What shit?" Ellen asked patiently.
Ryan blew out a breath. "I have to go on a road trip tomorrow, and I'm freaking out because Jamie can't go with me. I'm an adult woman, and I need my girlfriend to hold me or I can't sleep." She looked so disgusted with herself that everyone in the room felt empathy for her. But it was obvious that the young woman felt none for herself.
"Does Jamie know it's still hard for you?" Ellen asked.
"I don't know," Ryan said irritably. Then her voice softened and she said, "Probably not. We don't talk about it much."
"Maybe you should tell her- " Ellen began.
Ryan cut her off. "She's got a big paper due on Monday. She can't be sitting in the stands watching me play softball for three days."
"Oh, I see," Ellen said.
"No, you don't," Ryan snapped. "Our roommate, Mia, is moving to Colorado tomorrow. Mia's part of our family," she said, emphasizing the word so strongly that everyone took note. "I can't stand it when my family gets screwed up!"
"I understand," Ellen said. She looked around the group. "I think we all do, Ryan. When you're dealing with the after-effects of trauma, the last thing you want is change. Especially in your immediate family."
"I'm gonna miss her," Ryan sobbed. "I'm gonna miss her so much!"
That night, the three young women sat around the dinner table. Jamie had rushed home to make Mia's favorite dinner, but the goodbye meal wasn't very festive. Ryan was slumped down in her chair, barely picking at her food, but Jamie didn't want to question her about her mood, since she looked like she was ready for a fight. With as much false cheer as she could muster, Jamie said, "How's the packing going, Mia?"
"Great!" the curly-haired woman responded. She was bubbling with energy and excitement, as much a contrast to Ryan as was physically possible. "I'm remarkably organized." She laughed and added, "I guess I can be on time if I'm going somewhere I really wanna go."
Ryan shot her a sidelong glance that Mia didn't see, but Jamie caught it. She knew her lover was down about Mia's leaving, but it surprised her to see how upset she was. I've got to get her alone and find out what's behind those moody blue eyes.
As soon as dinner was over, Jamie sa
id, "You two both have some packing to do. When do you leave, baby?"
"I have to be on the bus by 7:00," Ryan said. "Our flight's at 9:00."
"Where are you going again?" Mia asked.
"Fullerton," Ryan said.
"Where's that?"
"Nowhere." Ryan got up and started for the stairs.
Mia looked at Jamie. "What's wrong with the princess?"
"I think she's sad you're leaving," Jamie said. "She hates change."
"Ooo …" Mia winced. "I'd better not act so fucking giddy about going. But I don't know how to stop." She gave Jamie such a dazzling smile that the blonde couldn't help but return it.
"You don't have to change how you feel. Just don't be surprised if Ryan's really quiet or acts withdrawn. That's how she shows she loves you."
"She must love me a lot," Mia said, looking towards Ryan's room with concern. "'Cause she looks like she's about to jump off a bridge."
Jamie went upstairs and peeked into her room. Ryan was sitting in front of her computer, her fingers flying over the keys. Seeing that her partner was being productive, Jamie went to Mia's room to offer her help. Mia was trying to jam nearly everything she had into three large suitcases.
"That's never gonna fit," Jamie said, stating the obvious.
"I know, but I can't decide what to take."
"Why don't you just take your warmest things right now? It's still pretty cold in Colorado. I'll pack up your lighter clothes and send them to you."
"Will you really?" Mia asked.
"Of course. I'd be happy to. Just let me know what you want and when you want it."
Mia smiled at her friend and started pulling things from her suitcases.
She was so happy that Jamie couldn't help but catch a little of her enthusiasm. "You don't have any second thoughts about doing this, do you?"
"Hell, no! I'm amazed I stayed this long!"
"You know, I am, too," Jamie said. "You're not the most patient girl I've ever known."
"Do you think you and Ryan will be able to visit before school's over?" Mia asked. "Jordy says we can ski until June this year because of the great snow pack."
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