Nurture

by Susan X Meagher

  A smile slowly bloomed and Ryan grasped Jamie and hugged her. "Thanks for doing my laundry. Thanks for caring about me. And thanks for putting up with me. I know I can be a pain."

  Jamie patted her butt, and Ryan released her. "We all have our things, honey. One of yours is laundry."

  Nodding, Ryan grabbed her bag and kissed Jamie quickly. "Gotta go. See you at your mom's tonight."

  "Okay, Sparky. Play well."

  When she heard the door shut, Jamie called her mother. "Hi," she said when Catherine answered. "Wanna meet me at the Stanford Shopping Center before the game? Ryan's in dire need of new underwear."

  Late on Saturday afternoon, Ryan sat on the bed in Jamie's room in Hillsborough, watching her lover pack a bag for her trip. "I forgot to ask if your mom's going to fly down to watch you play," Ryan said.

  "No, I didn't ask her to. I know she'd come any time I asked, but it can't be fun for her. She's just being nice."

  Ryan nodded. "Maybe. But if you'd like her to come you should ask her."

  "I think I'll wait for her to offer," Jamie said. "Then I'll know she really wants to."

  "I really want to," Ryan said. She looked like she was on the verge of tears, and her hands held Jamie's suitcase like she didn't want to release it.

  Jamie saw the look in her eyes. She sat down and slipped an arm around her lover, feeling knots of tension in her back muscles. "How are you feeling?"

  "I'm all right," Ryan said in her standard response. "It's only a couple of days."

  "I know that." Jamie's voice was soft and calm. "But I don't feel very good about going, and I thought you might feel the same."

  Ryan nodded. "You know I don't like it, but that's life." She laughed very artificially and said, "A series of calamities and disappointments, occasionally interrupted by a moment of joy."

  Seeing that she wasn't going to crack her lover's carefully created shell, the blonde got up and finished getting ready. "Mom said she'd drive you home after the game tomorrow."

  "I can take the bus," Ryan said. "She doesn't need to go out of her way."

  "She likes being with you, Ryan. And if you'll let her drive you, she might stay for dinner. She really hates eating alone every night."

  "She does?" Ryan's eyes grew wide. "Why doesn't she come to our house? She never has to be lonely."

  Jamie walked over to her and kissed her, trying to show the depths of her love through her touch. "You're such a find," she whispered. "How did I ever get so lucky?"

  Looking a little shy with her lopsided grin, Ryan shrugged her shoulders. "Dunno. Must be fate."

  Jamie kept her arms around her neck and hugged her tightly. "I'll call you tonight when I get to Temecula, okay?"

  "Okay." Ryan got up, and they held each other for a few moments, then walked downstairs together. After Jamie said goodbye to her mother, Ryan walked her out to the circular drive. She put Jamie's bag onto the passenger seat of the Boxster, then opened her arms to hold her lover for a long hug. "I'll miss you, sweetheart. Play well."

  "Do my best." Jamie kissed her and got into the car. As she drove away she caught one last glance of her partner, standing alone in the driveway, her hands in her pockets, staring after the departing car.

  Catherine and Ryan ate in the kitchen, and the pair finally convinced Marta to sit and eat with them. That was a rare accomplishment, and it was clear that Marta didn't feel entirely comfortable. Even though she and Catherine were much more than employer/employee, there was always a line she was careful not to cross-for her sake as well as Catherine's. No matter how fond she was of the younger woman, Catherine was and would always be the one in charge, and that, for Marta, precluded a more casual relationship. Besides, Helena, the housekeeper, didn't have a personal relationship with Catherine, and Marta didn't want to make the other woman jealous.

  As soon as the cook had finished her last bite, she got up and started to clean the kitchen, politely, but firmly refusing help from Ryan.

  Catherine could see that her daughter-in-law was fidgeting. She knew it went against Ryan's grain to have someone waiting on her, so she suggested they go into the living room for a while.

  Catherine turned on some music, and Ryan sat on one of the sofas, taking up much of the space, as was her wont. Catherine recalled how the young woman had behaved the first time she'd visited the house, how she'd tried to blend in with the rather stiff Evans' style. It made her happy that Ryan was now comfortable enough to kick off her shoes and lounge on the sofa, something Catherine had seen her do at home. "You seem a little on edge tonight, honey. Is everything okay?"

  "Yeah, yeah," Ryan said. "Just a little … unsettled. I think I'll feel better when Jamie calls. I… like to… I… uhm…"

  "It's hard for you, isn't it?" Catherine asked gently. "To have her gone."

  "Yeah. It is."

  She didn't say another word, but Catherine could tell she was anxious. "Do you worry about her?"

  Ryan nodded, quicker this time, looking like she might cry.

  "Since the car-jacking?"

  "Uh-huh." The young woman made a fist and rubbed her mouth with it, her lips reddening from the friction. Catherine guessed she was trying to distract herself from crying, and she respected Ryan's need to save face.

  "That makes perfect sense," she said. "I still have nightmares about it, and I wasn't even there. I have a low-level discomfort … I guess it's anxiety … that hasn't really left since that night."

  "You do?" Ryan got up and went to sit next to her mother-in-law. "How can I help?"

  Catherine smiled and put her hand on the younger woman's leg. "You're such a giver," she said. "I'm so glad you and Jamie found each other."

  "Me, too," Ryan said quickly. "Now, how can we make you feel less anxious?"

  "Oh … part of it is my trying to limit my drinking," Catherine said. "I was swallowing an awful lot of anti-anxiety medicine on a daily basis. It's going to take me a long time to get a baseline on what my real feelings are. I was thinking of asking my psychiatrist for some medication, but I don't want to do that yet. I want to see if I can ride this out and calm myself down."

  "You do talk about this with your therapist, don't you?" Ryan asked. "I know it's hard to ask for help, but you've gotta do it."

  "It is hard," Catherine said. "Is it hard for you?"

  Ryan nodded again, her lower lip quivering.

  "How about a hug?" Catherine asked.

  Ryan looked at her and realized Catherine was asking for, not offering one. She put her arms around her mother-in-law and held her for a few moments, then started to let go. But Catherine reached up and held Ryan's arm around her shoulders, burrowing up against her. Ryan immediately returned the warmth, and they spent a long time sitting quietly, reflecting on how their worlds had changed in the last months-for better and for worse.

  On Monday morning, Catherine drove down Castro Street in San Francisco, pleased to find that the parking situation was not very bad on a weekday. She was dressed casually, since she assumed that she'd be walking a lot, wearing tattersall plaid slacks in tan and brown, and a brown suede blazer covering a simple, cream-colored cashmere shell. Brown tassel loafers deducted two inches from her usual height. She'd always liked the extra height she got from heels, but she was trying to get comfortable wearing more casual clothing. Being around the O'Flahertys has really begun to rub off on me. She smiled to herself as she walked down the street. Some day soon, Ryan might have me in one of those warm-up suits she's so fond of.

  After she announced herself to the receptionist, Catherine waited for just a moment before Alex Joyce came out to greet her. "Mrs. Evans?"

  "Catherine," she said firmly, extending her hand. "It's good to meet you, Alex."

  "Come on into my office," he said, leading the way. "I'll show you what types of places are on the market now, and you can let me know if any of them suits your needs."

  They sat next to each other and began to look through his listing book. "You said on the phone
that you were looking for properties for your daughter?"

  "Yes, my daughter and her partner."

  "Does she have children, or is it just the two of them?"

  "It's just the two of them," Catherine said. "They've only been together since summer, but they do plan on having children. Knowing Ryan, her partner, they'll have more than the two they're talking about."

  "Ahh … he's in favor of big families," Alex said.

  Catherine blinked at him, puzzled by his choice of pronouns. "Oh," she said after a moment, "I didn't make myself clear. Ryan's a woman."

  "Oh!" he said, blinking in return. "Well, I must tell you how nice it is to see a mother who's so supportive of her lesbian daughter."

  Taking her turn, Catherine blinked again, and gave him a tentative smile. "You know, Alex, I don't think I've ever used that term for her. I'm so comfortable around them that I don't stop to think that they're lesbians." She shook her head a little and laughed softly. "But I suppose that they are. The evidence is overwhelming."

  The young man smiled back at her. "Any chance you could have a word with my parents? They seem to think that my being gay is the focus of my entire being. I only wish I lived the hedonistic lifestyle they imagine I'm embroiled in."

  She patted his arm. "Give them time, Alex. They might come around."

  "Maybe." He shrugged. "It's their loss if they don't." He manufactured a smile. "You mentioned that you're only interested in Noe and Castro, is that right?"

  "Yes. Ryan's family lives in Noe, and she wants to stay within walking distance."

  He looked thoughtful for a few minutes, then thumbed idly through his book. "There really isn't anything on the market in those neighborhoods right now that I'd waste your time looking at. Why don't we look at styles of homes, just so I can get a feel for what you think would please them?"

  "That sounds fine, Alex. I think I have a pretty good idea of what the girls want." She smiled. "What they really want is a fairly modest house that can magically expand to accommodate fifty people for dinner."

  He smiled back. "We have our work cut out for us then, don't we?"

  "Catherine?" Alex said quietly. "Catherine?"

  When he touched her shoulder, she started, turning to give him an embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry, I went off for a minute." Looking around the home they were viewing, she said, "This place isn't right for Jamie and Ryan, but I certainly wish it were."

  "It is special, isn't it?" he asked. "I think it's one of the nicest properties I've ever listed."

  "Oh, this is your listing?"

  "Yes. It's only been on the market since last week, even though the owner has been agonizing over the decision for months." He laughed softly. "The owner is an art director in Hollywood, and he's absolutely never home. I think he said he was here for a total of one week last year. He earns a lot of money, but it's hard to have a place like this sitting idle, no matter how much you have."

  As Catherine looked around again she said, "I would hazard a guess that he wants to renovate another place. People who do this kind of work are rarely satisfied to live in it once they've finished."

  "You could be right. He's owned the place for three years, and it was an absolute mess when he bought it. It's only been finished for about nine months, and as soon as the last workman left, he was talking about selling."

  "That's not uncommon," she said. "I have … had friends who live to decorate." She folded her arms over her chest and walked around the rooms on the first floor once again. "I don't know what it is about the place," Catherine mused quietly, "but something about it really resonates with me."

  "Are you certain that your daughter couldn't be persuaded to range a little past her comfort zone? Pacific Heights isn't really that far from Noe."

  "No," she said with regret. "This space wouldn't suit them at all. It's a good size, but it's not set up like they'd want, and it's so beautifully done that it would be a crime to knock down any of these walls." Catherine cocked her head and said, "Besides, it's a little elegant for Ryan's tastes. I think she'd feel intimidated here."

  "You didn't mention how old they are."

  "Jamie just turned twenty-two, and Ryan's twenty-four."

  "Ahh … that is young for a space like this."

  "Jamie's used to living in luxury, but Ryan's struggling to acclimate," she said. "She'd break out in hives when she saw the silk on the walls of the master bedroom. And I think there's more marble in the master bath than Michelangelo ever laid his hands on."

  "Where do you live? Here in the city?"

  "No, I've lived in the Peninsula my whole life," she said. "I live not five miles from where I was born."

  "Thank God I can't say the same thing," he said. "I'd be in a corn field in Iowa."

  "Are you happy in the city, Alex?"

  "Oh, yes. I always say that everyone who loves cities should live in San Francisco at least once in his life. The opera, a world-class symphony orchestra, great museums, wonderful restaurants, and thousands of great-looking gay men-it's nirvana," he said. "I felt like my life began the day I moved here."

  Not quite sure why she was sharing her personal life with him, Catherine said, "I'm starting my life over, in a sense. I'm in the process of divorcing my husband."

  "I'm sorry to hear that," Alex said sympathetically. "I … uhm, figured out who you were when you talked about your daughter and her partner by name. I didn't know that you and Senator Evans were divorcing. That hasn't made the news, has it?"

  "Yes, but it wasn't a very big story, thank God. We've kept it very quiet, and we're not fighting, so it should blow over quickly."

  Alex gave her a sad smile. "I broke up with my lover a few months ago, and it's been hellish. I really understand how hard it can be."

  "Yes, it is hard, but I have Jamie and Ryan, and they help a lot. Actually, I'm in the city more than I'm at home lately. My husband has an apartment on Telegraph Hill, and I should stay there more often just to avoid the drive." She shook her head. "It doesn't suit me, though. I'd rather drive home than stay there."

  He nodded. "I can't imagine how hard it must be to have your lives held up for the whole world to see. I know it's been very tough, but I must say that I've come to respect all of you for the classy way you've handled it."

  She smiled and agreed. "Tough is not a strong enough word. Having my marriage break up, and then having my daughter and her partner almost killed has really taxed my resources, Alex. I feel like I'm just getting by. I seek solitude, but when I'm alone down in my big house, I feel so lonely." She shook her head. "Well, enough of my complaining. I suppose we should go."

  "Would you like to see the second floor again?" he asked. "I know the house doesn't suit your purposes, but if your daughter is going to remodel, the second floor balcony is one of the nicest I've seen. It might give you a few ideas."

  "Yes, I would like to see that again, if you have time."

  They went back upstairs and Alex opened the door, allowing Catherine to walk outside alone. The balcony, which was very generous in size, seemed like a veritable Garden of Eden, right on the crest of Pacific Heights.

  Generously-sized concrete planters surrounded the space-each painted a matte black to make them stand out against the low, white wall. A lavish variety of roses filled them, spilling out a profusion of color and scent. A beautifully rendered wrought iron archway, also painted black, stood right outside the door, and it was covered with wisteria and clematis, just beginning to send off the shoots that would soon bloom. She sat down on an upholstered chair, covered in black with white piping, and gazed out upon the Bay, the wind ruffling her hair.

  She noted that even though the breeze was stiff, she wasn't cold, and realized that was because the space was well-protected from the wind on all sides. There was a six-foot-high glass wall surrounding the patio, the glass so clean that it was invisible. Looking up, she noted that the designer had also installed gas heaters every few feet, the appliances cleverly installed on black wrought
iron posts.

  A feeling of absolute peace settled over her, and she completely lost track of time. It wasn't until she began to chill that she looked at her watch and realized in amazement that it was nearly five o'clock. "Alex," she called as she went back inside.

  He came back into the room, his cell phone up to his ear, and held up a finger, indicating that he'd be off the phone in a minute. When he hung up, he chuckled at her shocked expression. "Did you enjoy your afternoon?"

  "How long was I out there?"

  "A couple of hours," he said. "But it wasn't a problem. I've been busy the whole time. I've got my PC in my briefcase, and I was able to catch up on a lot of work that I can't get done at the office."

  "But … Alex," she said again, thoroughly embarrassed. "I've wasted your entire afternoon on a house that I won't even bother to show Jamie."

  "I promise you that I don't mind a bit." He smiled broadly. "I don't believe in rushing people, Catherine. If we're going to work together, I want you to feel free to spend as much time as you need in a space. That's the only way to know if a home is right for you."

  She blinked at him, and heard her mouth form a statement that shocked her thoroughly as it registered. "Alex, this house isn't what the girls are looking for, but it's absolutely right for me. I've purchased three homes in my life, and I bought each one the first time I saw it. Let's get the owner on the phone and make a deal."

  Late that afternoon, Jamie got in the courtesy van that the country club had arranged for them. Christie, Crystal, Samantha and Valerie were already in the van, and they had room for another player or two.

  Scott Godfrey, the coach, walked up to the van, asking, "Who were you paired with, Jamie?"