Honesty - SF8

by Meagher, Susan X

  "I thought you were going to wait for the weekend. Were you able to get an appointment?" The words still sounded odd to her ear, but this was the Evans way, and she tried not to show her disdain for the practice.

  "No, I wasn’t, but that’s not going to stop me. I just talked to his secretary and told her that I wanted to surprise him with a little visit since I haven’t been to his office in so many years. She’s going to make sure he’s free at four o’clock."

  Ryan nodded, knowing that this would be a very stressful day for her partner. "How do you feel about your match?" The golf competition had taken a back seat to Jamie’s anger the entire week, and oddly that distraction had allowed her to play very well. She was still in second place, and a win today would ensure her a spot on the team. Her odds were still very good, even if she lost, but Jamie was determined to do her best.

  "I feel good. I’m playing a freshman, and she seems really nervous. She’s good, but she needs a lot of seasoning. I honestly think that she’d do well to practice this year and work with a teacher to improve her confidence level, so I don’t think I’ll feel guilty if I beat her."

  Hmm…I wonder what that feels like? Ryan mused. Have I ever felt guilty about beating anyone? I felt sorry for those women I thrashed during my volleyball tryout, but that certainly wasn’t guilt.

  "Ryan!"

  "Huh? Oh, sorry," she said. "I was just thinking about something. What did you say?"

  "I said that I’d like to take the Lexus again today. You don’t mind, do you?"

  "Course not. You’ll probably have to put gas in it, though."

  Sighing heavily while giving Ryan a mock perturbed look, Jamie asked, "Do you ever actually fill it up? It’s chronically on empty!"

  With an adolescent looking shrug, Ryan replied, "Yeah, I do fill it up. I just have a thing about buying gas. I put it off for as long as humanly possible."

  "You’re gonna run out someday, Buff. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya."

  "Duly noted," Ryan nodded, even though she was sure that would never happen.

  Jim Evans barreled past his secretary a little after four, muttering, "I’m gonna try to get out of here, Helen. Anything urgent I need to know?"

  "No," she said brightly, pleased with her role in arranging for Jamie to visit the office. "Enjoy yourself."

  He cast a puzzled glance in her direction before opening the door to his inner office. Striding over to his desk, he grabbed his large briefcase and started throwing files into it, wracking his brain to make sure he brought everything he might need to complete a major deal with a Swedish company. He was so deep in thought that he didn’t see the young woman sitting patiently on his burgundy leather couch. Hitting the intercom he barked, "Helen, have my driver meet me at the front door of the building. It’ll take me all night to get to Pebble Beach as it is."

  "Uh…yes, sir," she replied, puzzled by this order.

  He shut the case, hefted it off the desk and started for the door when a quiet voice asked, "Don’t you think you should make a little time for your daughter before you leave town?"

  The case fell to the floor, slamming into the carpet with a dull thud. "J--Jamie," he stuttered. "Wow, what a nice surprise!" His face immediately grew pale, and Jamie felt a burst of pleasure at having caught him so off guard.

  "Tell your driver that you won’t need him for a while," she said coolly, her green eyes boring into him with unblinking intensity.

  "Well…um…I have a big deal going on, Honey, and I uh…I’ve arranged for a conference call for late tonight…"

  "You can do it from here," she said, her tone flat, yet determined. "Helen can change the arrangements when she cancels your driver."

  "I’ve got an early tee time with a client…"

  "Fine," she snapped, her limited patience at an end. "Let’s make this quick then. Ryan is my life partner. What you do to her, you do to me. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you like it or not—she’s staying! We live together—permanently! By the way, you can’t throw her out of a house that isn’t yours—it’s Mother’s, and she wants Ryan to stay. Maybe you should be a little more careful in trying to control things that you don’t own!"

  Her face was red, both from anger and the hurt that had been welling up in her chest. She stood and approached him, getting close enough to see the small nervous tic in his right eye. "It’s bad enough what you’ve tried to do to Ryan, but what you’ve done to mother is beyond contempt. You’ve disgraced your family by cheating on her, and it sickens me to admit that we share the same genes!"

  She turned on her heel and made for the door, not getting four steps away when his equally fiery temper snapped and he slammed his hand down on his desk and yelled, "That bitch!"

  Wheeling around and flinging herself in his direction, Jamie grabbed the lapels of his custom-made suit and gave him a powerful shake. "Don’t you DARE speak of my mother that way! DON’T YOU DARE!"

  His hands automatically grabbed hers, and he peeled her off of his suit, his dumbfounded look reflecting his befuddlement. "What? I never…" Realization dawned and he shook his head quickly. "I’m not talking about your mother," he growled. "I’m talking about that sanctimonious bitch you’re living with. I guess it’s okay for her to lie to me, huh?" he demanded, his anger nearly equal to his daughter’s.

  "What in the hell are you talking about?" Jamie asked, her entire body shaking with rage.

  "The bitch swore she’d never tell you, but the second I call her on her little extortion scheme, she can’t keep her mouth shut!"

  The rage that flowed through her body was stunning in its intensity. Without having any conscious thought of what she was doing, Jamie started to advance on her father as he retreated in shock.

  "WHAT!" She slapped hard against his muscular chest, both hands open, the sharp sound echoing loudly in the quiet room.

  "ARE!" He backed up a step, hitting the back of his leg against a low table as he tried to escape her attack.

  "YOU!" Another slap as her hands gave him another rough push, the furor in her eyes stunning him into speechlessness.

  "TALKING!" An even harder push caused him to stumble a bit, his body unused to moving around his office in a backwards direction.

  "ABOUT!"

  She had shoved him into the corner of the office, and he fell into the couch, nearly too shocked to speak. His daughter stood over him, her fists clenched, a look of absolute rage distorting her normally attractive features. She was breathing so heavily that her chest was heaving, and for just a moment, he was afraid that she would punch him. With effort, he managed to sputter, "She told me that she wouldn’t tell. I thought we had an understanding!"

  A sound unlike any he had ever heard from a human erupted from her throat, and before he could say another word, she was gone, nearly sprinting from his suddenly silent office.

  After a long week of two-a-day practice sessions, Ryan was physically and mentally exhausted as she drove across the Bay Bridge during the height of rush hour, having a hard time getting through the near-gridlock even on her Harley. It was legal to straddle a lane on a bike, and she made slow progress until some aggressive jerk decided to block motorcycle access by wedging his car between the lanes. Damn! It’s not like I’m not nervous enough! Sitting in this mess makes me feel like jumping out of my skin on a good day, and this is turning out to be anything but a good day. Practice had gone poorly, Coach Placer ragging on the team for the entire two-hour session. Ryan knew that they were just exhausted, but she realized that he had certain expectations that were not being met, mostly because they had missed the previous week of practice because of repairs to the gym. She knew that she had been much less than sharp, and she had seen her coach give her several long looks of near-disgust at her poor execution of the fundamentals.

  I’m so damned worried about what’s going on with Jamie that I was in another world! I have got to be able to focus better or he’s gonna have my ass!

  When she pulled up in front of the house,
she was pleased to see Conor’s big black truck blocking the driveway. Well, at least I’ll have someone to talk with to take my mind off Jamie.

  Conor proved to be a very competent distraction as they sat in the kitchen having a beer. He was going out soon, accompanying some of the cousins to a baseball game, but he lingered as long as he could, sensing that his little sister needed to talk.

  They had just finished their beers when the front door flew open, the heavy frame rattling as it slammed. Giving her brother a wide-eyed look, Ryan got to her feet and walked toward the living room, only to find herself face-to-face with her extremely angry lover. "HOW COULD YOU?" Approaching Ryan with a menacing look on her face, Jamie raised her hands, looking like she was going to grab the startled woman. She paused a second, looking down at her hands as though they belonged to someone else. Roughly crossing her arms over her chest, she tucked a hand into each armpit, seemingly trying to stop herself from striking Ryan. Again she said, "How could you?" By this time she was backing up, and as she moved back the rage that colored her face began to dissipate, slowly being replace with a devastated look of hurt that tore at Ryan’s soul. "How could you?" she finally cried, nearly hysterically, as she turned and ran down the stairs to their bedroom.

  Ryan was right on her heels, leaping over a cowering Duffy, who was trying to find a safe place to hide.

  Jamie was standing in the middle of their room, looking like she had no idea of what to do. Her face was both flushed and deathly pale, small patches of bright red on an otherwise chalk-colored canvas. Her hands clenched and released as her entire body shook with rage.

  Approaching her partner as gently as she could, Ryan placed a hand on her shoulder, only to have it roughly pushed away. That one small act felt like a stake driving into her heart, and Ryan had to bite her lip hard not to collapse in tears. "Don’t you touch me!" The voice bore no resemblance to Jamie's usual loving tone, and Ryan’s heart clenched again as the thought flashed through her mind that Jamie might actually be unable to forgive her.

  Feeling desperate, Ryan begged, "Jamie, please let me explain. Please!"

  Glaring at her with a face full of contempt, Jamie spat, "Did you know that my father had an affair?"

  "Yes, I did, but…"

  Holding up a hand, she asked the follow-up. "Did you tell him that you would keep it a secret from me?"

  "Yes, but it’s not like it…"

  "QUIET!" She clapped her hands over her ears, unable to hear another word from the woman that she had trusted completely, who had now betrayed her. "I can’t stand to hear another word from you!" Groping roughly through her pockets, she found the keys to the Lexus and made for the door.

  "Jamie, please, please don’t leave when you’re this angry." Ryan leapt in front of her, blocking her way. She was on the verge of physically restraining her, but recognized that such an act might make the situation even worse.

  "Get out of my way." The tone was low, and so very cold that a chill settled in Ryan’s guts as soon as the words were out.

  "Please," she begged. "I’ll go. I’ll go back to Berkeley so you can have the house to yourself. Just, please don’t leave when you’re this angry. It’s not safe to drive!"

  "It’s not safe to be with you," Jamie replied, an ice-cold emptiness in her normally bright eyes.

  Ryan hesitated just an instant, then once again put her hand on her lover’s shoulder.

  With a look of sheer disgust, the smaller woman removed the hand and turned to spit out, "You think you know what’s best for me. You don’t! You think you can make my decisions for me. You can’t! I’m an adult, Ryan O’Flaherty, and you and every other person who wants to stay in my life had better learn that!"

  Ryan was shocked into inactivity just long enough for the livid woman to run up the stairs and slam the door once again. Making her way to the door, Ryan opened it and stood on the deck, watching her partner get into the Lexus and peel out of her illegal parking space, leaving a patch of rubber on the pavement.

  Conor approached his sister, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Wanna talk about it?" he asked softly. He was loath to get involved in her private affairs, but he was unable to act like he hadn’t heard most of the fight.

  She turned and fell into his strong embrace, burying her head in his neck as she sobbed pitifully. "I can’t," she muttered, wishing with all of her heart that she could unburden herself, but knowing that she could not commit such a betrayal of Jamie's privacy.

  As angry as Jamie was, she knew that her partner was right and that she should not drive, so she went up the hill and pulled into the nearly empty parking lot at St. Phil’s. The church was open for Friday night confessions, and she went into the cool, dark space to allow some of the anger to drain from her body before she made any decisions about how to proceed.

  "Are you sure you don’t want to go with us, Sis?" Conor asked for the third time.

  Privately thinking that this was one of the big differences between men and woman, Ryan thanked him again and declined. Conor would think it’s okay to go to the baseball game in this situation, she mused. He would reason that going out would take his mind off his troubles and allow Jamie to calm down, but I could never enjoy myself knowing that my beloved was driving around San Francisco so angry that she barely knows where she is. I kinda envy guys for being able to compartmentalize things like this, but I know that going out with the boys would be the first act of my new single life. She shuddered at the mere thought, and tried to chase all such gloom and doom scenarios from her mind.

  Her hands were still shaking so much that she had a hard time opening another beer. She sat on the deck, watching the sunset, thinking about Jamie and wondering where she could possibly be. The cordless phone was on her lap and after a few minutes she started to dial. She called their house in Berkeley, and luckily Mia was home, but she had not heard from Jamie. Ryan didn’t tell her what was going on, reasoning that Jamie would fill her in if she wished. The house in Hillsborough was next, but there was no answer. She knew that Jamie would not answer her cell, but she dialed it anyway, and when it immediately went to voice mail she knew that it was turned off.

  Scrolling through the stored numbers, she hit the one for Reverend Evans, pleased when he answered the phone. "Hi, Charlie, it’s Ryan O’Flaherty," she announced.

  "Ryan! What a nice surprise!"

  He doesn’t know anything, she decided, trying to figure out how to get off the phone without worrying him. "Uhh, Jamie’s not home and I thought maybe she had come to see you this afternoon," she said, thinking that was a reasonable lie.

  "No, I haven’t heard from her," he said slowly. Sensing something was wrong, he asked, "Is everything okay, Ryan?"

  "Sure. I’m sure everything will be okay," she said with more conviction than she felt.

  The filtered rays of a lovely sunset had just begun to paint the floor of the deck when Ryan heard footsteps on the staircase. Duffy ran for the stairs, cocking his head curiously, glancing back at his mistress and then at the visitor, trying to determine if it was friend or foe. His tail was low and wagged hesitantly, his ears set low as well. It’s clearly not Jamie, Ryan mused, knowing that Duffy would be in heaven to have his favorite home.

  Getting to her feet, Ryan reached the top of the stairs just as Jim’s head popped into view. "Oh great," she muttered, turning her back on him. She walked back to her seat, picked up her beer, and chugged the remainder, hoping the alcohol would calm her jangled nerves.

  "Where is she?" he demanded, his eyes narrowed and intense.

  "I have no idea," Ryan drawled. "All I know is that it’s a flip for who she’s angrier with. Thanks for that, by the way."

  "Her anger at me will dissipate when she comes to understand that I’m just trying to protect her," he declared.

  Cocking her head, Ryan gazed at him for a long moment, finally asking, "Do you really know her so little, or do you just refuse to let yourself see her? Can’t you understand that even if I was using
her, she’d never forgive you for being the one to point it out? For God’s sake, Jim, use your brain!"

  "Brain! You tell me to use mine! What about yours? How could you be so stupid as to think that telling Jamie about my affair could possibly work in your favor?"

  "I didn’t tell her," Ryan spat, her arms now crossed against her chest.

  "Then who did?" he demanded.

  Ryan would not reply. She merely stared him down.

  "You’re the only one who knows about Kayla," he fumed, still at the boiling point.

  Ryan remained silent, slowly shaking her head. Eventually she repeated her original statement. "I have never told anyone about what I saw. I would never do that."

  "Then who--?" he thundered, causing Duffy to move right next to Ryan, his hackles rising dangerously. As the words left his mouth, a look of stark realization hit the man, and he grabbed the edge of a chair, lowering himself into it heavily. "Catherine," he whispered, feeling perversely betrayed by his wife.

  Ryan looked away, not wanting him to see the confirmation in her eyes. "You had a marriage that was limping along but functional, and a daughter that thought you were a great guy. What have you got now?" she demanded, cutting him to the core.

  "Thanks to you!" he yelled, causing Duffy to bare his teeth and growl. Jim realized that he was about to be attacked, so he backed off and said, "Everything that I’ve done, I’ve done with Jamie’s best interests in mind. That is my duty as her father."

  Barking out a bitter laugh, Ryan narrowed her eyes and asked, "Does that include Kayla? I would think that part of your duty as a father is to treat your wife with respect."