Nurture

by Susan X Meagher

  She dropped to the sofa and tried to decide what to do. For just an instant, she considered doing nothing-just going to bed without calling. But her conscience chided her immediately. So she got up and dialed Jamie's cell and did her best to leave an upbeat message. Then she went upstairs and logged onto her computer, poking around until she went to one of her favorite math bulletin boards. She read a message from a student in Ireland who was having trouble with his homework assignment, so she shot him an e-mail, offering assistance. He replied immediately, and they met in an IRC chat room and worked on his trigonometry problems until 2:00 a.m. Richard was very grateful for the help, and Ryan knew she'd done most of the work for him, but she felt so much better to connect with someone-even a high school kid thousands of miles away-that she felt like she might be able to sleep. She lay down fully clothed, not even bothering to pull the bedspread off. In minutes, she was fast asleep.

  Part Twelve

  On Tuesday afternoon, Ryan consciously tried to fit her usual softball demeanor onto her prickly psyche. She left the locker room and took a path to the field that led her near Coach Roberts. Trotting by him, she said, "You've gotta stop calling me at home. Jamie's the jealous type." She smiled to herself when she heard him chuckle, relieved that she wouldn't have to explain the previous day's meltdown. That's one nice thing about guys. They love to ignore emotional issues. I wonder if it'd be easier to be straight?

  As soon as practice was over, she drove to San Francisco and met up with a bunch of her cousins at a local bar to participate in a well-known trivia contest. The boys had been going to The Bitter End for years, and they always played as a team. Ryan had only been there a few times, but Conor wasn't available, and they wanted to make sure they had someone good with numbers so Ryan was the obvious choice.

  She was still in a strange mood, but none of the boys noticed, none of them being particularly sensitive to mood swings. Rory showed up just as the game began, and he was given a roaring welcome, since he was their music ringer. The first category was television shows from the seventies, and they all groaned in unison.

  "We've got to get one of our fathers to come," Kieran said. "We're getting killed because we don't know jack before 1980."

  "It's the first category," Colm said. "Don't get your panties in a wad."

  "He's not wearing panties," Niall said. "He gave up cross-dressing for Lent."

  Ryan signaled for another beer, keeping up with the boys. They started to click, answering question after question. "Damn, we've gotta have Jamie come some time," Ryan said. "She knows everything about books."

  "Where is she tonight?" Declan asked. "How'd you get the handcuffs off?"

  Ryan gave him a sickly smile. "She's playing golf in So Cal. She'll be back tomorrow night."

  "Wow, it must be love if you don't have a date later," Dec said, grinning evilly.

  "I won't dignify that with an answer," Ryan said. "And, just for the record, saying that Austin had the biggest port in Texas was dumber than dumb. Stop guessing if you don't know the answer."

  "Touchy," he said, taunting her. "Somebody gets cranky when she doesn't get any for a couple of days."

  When she flashed him a lethal glare, he slapped her hard on the shoulder. "Lighten up, pup. I'll buy you another. Murphy's?"

  "Yeah. Murphy's," she said, trying to smile.

  At 11:30, Ryan's cell phone rang, and she got up from the table and threaded her way through the tightly-packed chairs, stepping on many toes and kicking the odd shin on her way out. She stood in the vestibule of the bar and clicked the answer button. "H'lo?"

  "Where are you?" Jamie asked. "I called you at home two hours ago and asked you to call me back. That's two nights in a row you haven't been at home when I expected you to be."

  "I'm in the city with my cousins," Ryan said, deftly answering only the first point. The noise was nearly deafening, so she dashed outside, the cool evening hitting her damp cotton shirt and making her shiver.

  "At a carnival?" Jamie asked. "It sounds like Times Square."

  "We're playing trivia at The Bitter End," Ryan said. "We won two-hundred and fifty bucks. I got the winning answer."

  She sounded a little slow, and Jamie asked, "What was that?"

  "How many fifty pound cannon balls would it take to fill a two ton container. No … wait. How many two ton … No, that's not it. Uhm … it was something about cannon balls," she said. "Or bowling balls."

  "I see," Jamie said. "Did you drive over there, honey?"

  "Sure. Inner Richmond's too far to walk."

  "Who's with you?"

  "The usual suspects."

  "Can I speak with Conor? I want him to do me a favor."

  "Huh-uh. Conor didn't come."

  Great! Now who do I ask for?

  "Rory's here," Ryan volunteered. "Can he do your favor?"

  My God, she's as high as a kite. I could never get away with this if she were sober. "Yeah. Either he can do it or ask Conor for me."

  "'Kay. I'll get him." She went back into the bar and shouted, "Rory!" He looked up and walked over to her, putting his arm around her shoulders to get close enough to hear her. "Jamie wants a favor!"

  He gave her a puzzled look and took the phone, stepping outside with his sister. "Hi, Jamie. What can I do for you?"

  "If you're as sober as you sound, you can drive your sister home. How much did she have to drink?"

  "Sure, I'll be glad to do that," he said, smiling at Ryan's sloppy grin.

  "If she doesn't fight it, I'd rather she slept at your house tonight. Think you can manage that?"

  "No problem," he said. "Wanna talk to Ryan again?"

  "Sure. Put her on and don't let her drink anymore! She has school in the morning."

  "Easier said than done," he said, "but I'll try."

  Ryan accepted the phone and winked at her brother when he went back inside. "I miss you," she said.

  "I miss you, too, sweetheart. Now, pack up and go home. You have class in the morning, you know."

  "Oh, fuck," Ryan said. "I gotta go. Love you."

  "I love you, too," Jamie said. She lay down on her bed, her stomach doing a little flip when she thought of the possibility of her lover driving home. No, she won't do that, she thought. Rory won't let her, and if he can't handle her, the boys can throw her in the back of one of their trucks. She sighed heavily. It sure is nice to have a bunch of strong men in the family-even though they're the same ones who lead her into temptation.

  Ryan went back into the bar and signaled to Rory. "Gotta go," she said.

  He jumped up and said, "Give me a ride."

  She was too slow to realize that he'd driven his own car, so she kissed all of her cousins goodbye and left with her brother. They passed his car on the way to hers, and when she failed to notice it he knew he couldn't let her drive even the short distance to the Noe Valley. They were a few feet from the BMW when he said, "Mind if I drive?"

  "I'm fine," she said, an edge to her voice.

  "Fine for what?" he asked. "I just wanna drive a nice car for a change. Mine's about to fall apart." He knew Ryan was extremely susceptible to guilt, and he hated to use it, but he wasn't taking any chances with her safety.

  She fished the keys from her pocket and tossed them to him. "You can drive it whenever you want, you know. Why don't you keep it for a while? I'd be happy to trade."

  Damn, a little guilt goes a long way, he thought. "No, once in a while's plenty. It's a nice treat."

  They got in and he adjusted the mirrors. "Big day at school tomorrow?"

  "Nah. Just have my French class at 8:00. Then I'm meeting with my advisor about my project."

  "When's that?"

  "What? My meeting?"

  "Yeah."

  "Mmm … 11:00 or 11:30. I havta check."

  "Why don't you blow your French class off and stay overnight? I miss having breakfast with you."

  She gave him a sidelong glance, obviously suspicious. "You think I'm wobbly?"

 
He could see the sharp look in her eye, and knew he'd better tell the truth. "We've both had more than we should. I wouldn't feel safe going all the way to Berkeley." He was lying, but he didn't think she'd kept track of his drinking. He'd only had one beer, and he knew she'd had at least five.

  "I'll stay over," she said. "But I'd better get up for my class. It's hard enough when I go. Skipping will only make it worse."

  "Okay. I just thought you could use a little more sleep."

  "I could," she agreed. "I could use a lotta things."

  "Like what?"

  She laughed, but her laughter was tinged with bitterness. "A thirty hour day would help. Having Jamie home more. Being away less. Seeing you guys on the weekends. Seeing Caitlin more. Having Duffy at my house."

  He gave her a quick look, surprised at how swiftly she'd come up with her list. "Can you do anything about any of those wishes?"

  "Nope. If I could, I would." She lowered her seat and stared out her window.

  "You don't seem like yourself, Ryan. I'm worried about you."

  "Mmm. Yeah. I'm worried about me, too."

  She said this so matter-of-factly that he was sure it was the alcohol talking. But he decided to make use of a rare situation. "Tell me what you're worried about."

  She yawned noisily. "Oh, the usual shit. I'm worried about not finishing my project and not graduating. I'm worried about my relationship. It's really fucking it up to be away from each other so much."

  "What about upstairs?" he asked, tapping his own head. "How are you feeling up there?"

  "Shitty. Totally shitty."

  He waited, but she wasn't more forthcoming. "Doing anything about it?"

  "Yes, Rory," she sighed. "I'm in a crappy, useless therapy group. We get together every Tuesday morning and whine about how frightened we are." She gave him a wholly insincere smile. "It's a delight."

  "Why are you going if it's not helping?"

  "'Cause Jamie told me to."

  "Ryan, Jamie wouldn't tell you to go to something that wasn't helping. Have you talked to her about it? Does she know you don't like going?"

  "Mama's dead," she snapped. "Aunt Maeve took her place. Not you."

  Her words stung, but he knew she didn't mean to sound so sharp. He started to apologize for butting in, but she beat him to it.

  She scratched his arm, letting her hand rest there for a moment. "Sorry I'm being such a bitch."

  "You're not being a bitch," he said. "You're just down."

  "Well, I'm sick of being down. Sick and tired of it."

  "It's the carjacking, huh?"

  "Yes. It's the fucking carjacking." She sighed heavily.

  "Does it still bother you that you had to shoot that guy?"

  She laughed. The sound so bitter and spiteful that it caught him up short. "I'd love to bring him back-so I could shoot him again. I think about emptying the weapon into him. I start off low and work my way up until I put the last slug right between his eyes."

  He didn't say another word. Ryan had a smug, satisfied look on her face and Rory let her engage in her fantasy. But he felt significantly worse about her than he had at the start of the evening.

  The next afternoon, Ryan was in her room reading when she heard the metallic click of a key being slid into the lock. Like a cat running for the kitchen when it hears the can-opener, she flew down the stairs, her arms open when the door was pushed. Jamie's sunny smile was the first thing she saw, and Ryan didn't even realize that she was crying as she threw her arms around her lover. "God, I missed you," she whispered into Jamie's ear, puzzled by the salty drops of moisture on the blonde strands.

  Jamie dropped her shoulder bag, struggling a little in Ryan's clutch. "I missed you, too." She reached up and brushed her cheek, and felt something wet. Pulling back, she looked into Ryan's eyes and saw fresh tears. "Oh, baby, was it horrible for you to be alone?"

  Ryan released Jamie and dropped her head. Her body seemed to collapse into itself; her shoulders dropped, and her arms folded across her chest as if she were hugging herself.

  Jamie had only seen her partner like that a few times, and it broke her heart anew each time it happened. Ryan had to be wounded in a very vulnerable place to cry the way she was now, and Jamie knew how hard it was for the brave woman to show such complete vulnerability.

  The blonde kicked the door shut and gently guided her partner to the sofa, deciding to sit on Ryan's lap. Normally she would have cuddled her, but she guessed that Ryan might feel more in control if Jamie took the more passive role.

  Ryan tucked her arms around her partner and nestled her face so hard against Jamie's neck that the smaller woman thought she might bruise. But she pressed back, doing everything in her power to reassure her lover that she was with her-physically and emotionally. They stayed just like that for a long while.

  Ryan wasn't crying any more, and her breathing was normal, but she seemed incapable of moving. After a long time, Jamie tilted her head just enough to be able to kiss her lover's cheek, and then Ryan shifted to reach Jamie's mouth. They kissed gently and slowly, both content to just connect.

  At one point, the thought occurred to Jamie that she'd never considered being able to kiss such a lovely woman for such a long time and not want to go further. But Ryan didn't give any indication that she was feeling sexual, and since Jamie's sexual response was usually keyed into Ryan's, she didn't press her. Instead of the beginning of lovemaking, this was more like a long, long welcome home kiss that neither wanted to end.

  When it finally did, Ryan pulled back just enough to stare at her partner's lips for a full minute. A slow, sure smile blossomed, and she said, "Missed you."

  Jamie had just finished calling for Thai food when the phone rang. "Hello?"

  "You have three guesses," Catherine said. "I did something very, very impetuous on Monday, and you get to try to figure out what it was."

  "Hold on a sec, Mom, this is Ryan's favorite game." Holding the phone so that her mother could hear Ryan, Jamie said. "Mom did something very, very impetuous. She wants us to guess what it was."

  "Hmm … went skydiving?"

  "No, that's a little bold for me," Catherine said. "This isn't entirely out of character."

  Jamie shook her head and relayed the message to her lover. "You bought something big," Jamie guessed.

  "You're right-but not nearly specific enough," Catherine said.

  Ryan's eyes grew wide, and she asked in a loud voice, "You didn't buy us a house, did you?" The brunette could hear the amused laugh coming through the receiver, and her heart started to slow its rapid beat.

  "Tell Ryan she's half-right," Catherine said. "I bought a house, but I bought it for myself."

  "You bought a new house-for yourself?" Jamie gasped. "Since when … why would you … how long have you been … huh?"

  Ryan lifted the phone from her partner's hand and said, "That's a very big surprise, Catherine. Where are the new digs?"

  "Pacific Heights. Not far from your old school as a matter of fact. Right at the crest of Divisadero."

  "Ooh … I bet someone has a view of the bay from her windows."

  "A fantastic view," Catherine acknowledged. "Now, I don't want to keep you two. I know Jamie just got home."

  "Don't be silly," Ryan said. "I'll always share her with you, Catherine. I just have custody."

  "As you should. Now, tell Jamie not to worry. I'm not giving up on Hillsborough. This will be my city house. Really, I should have had one years ago since I'm in the city so often. We'll still have our big O'Flaherty gatherings down at the old house."

  "I don't know if Jamie would be worried about that, but I was," Ryan said, chuckling softly. "I love that pool, ya know."

  "I do," Catherine said. "You and Caitlin both have the same addiction."

  "You have my sincere best wishes for your new home, Catherine. And you'll never want to go back to Hillsborough. But the best part of your news is that we'll be so close to you on weekends. That's beyond great."

/>   "I think so, too."

  "I'm sure you're gonna love it, and I'm really happy for you. Here's Jamie, okay?"

  "Bye, Ryan."

  Jamie accepted the phone from Ryan and heard her mother say, "I honestly was trying to look for a home for you two, but something about this house just spoke my name, and I had to have it."

  "It's not the type of place we'd like?"

  "No, it's in the wrong neighborhood, and it's very … uhm … not stuffy, but very elegant and refined. It looks like a home for a middle-aged person, not a pair of young women who plan on having children."

  "Gotcha," Jamie said, nodding. "Well, I have confidence that you'll help us find the right place, Mom. But if I hear of your buying yet another house, I'm taking you off the job."

  After the pair had finished dinner, Ryan put her hand on her lover's shoulder. "I can't study tonight. How about you?"

  Shrugging, Jamie said, "I guess I could, but I'm not going to. What do you wanna do instead?" She was on the verge of suggesting they go straight to bed, but Ryan was still not putting out any sexual vibes, and she didn't want to push her.

  Giving Jamie a lovesick smile, the brunette said, "I'd be happy to have you sit on my lap all night. I don't care what we do as long as I'm touching you."

  Jamie linked her hands behind Ryan's neck, having to reach to accomplish the move. "Mean that?"

  "Yeah. Of course. Why?"

  "I'd love a massage. We were on some tiny puddle-jumping plane, and I didn't get much time to cool down after my morning match. I feel like I'm all knots."

  Ryan lifted her chin and gazed into the distance, moving her hands to a variety of points on her lover's back. "Mmm … you do feel stiff. Let's get out the big guns."

  Jamie cocked her head in question.

  "I brought my massage table over here, and we've never used it. How dumb is that?"

  "How dumb am I not to know you brought it?"

  "Conor brought it over not long after I moved in. He said we had more room than they do, which is true. I put it in the garage."