Honesty - SF8

by Meagher, Susan X

  "Do you really believe that?" Ryan asked, doubting her friend's assessment.

  "Well…Heather started in your place, and she just had a terrible game. I don’t know what her problem was, but she didn’t have one kill in the first game. Coach finally took her out, but Ashley didn’t do much better. When it became obvious that we were weak on the outside, they tweaked their offense to target them and just pounded them all night. It was actually kind of sickening. You know how it is when momentum starts to shift against you? We just couldn’t do anything right. Our service percentage sucked, we couldn’t get up for blocks, God, I think we had something like 20 kills for the night! So clearly no one played well, including me. We were just incredibly flat."

  Ryan just looked down at the table in silence. It broke her heart to see her team struggling and not be able to help, but she was truly powerless. "I’m really sorry I let you down," she said as a tear started to leak out. "I’ll see ya," she mumbled as she got up from the table holding her baggy pants up as she shuffled from the room.

  Jordan gave her a wide-eyed stare as she left the kitchen. She turned to Jamie and said, "I…I…I don’t know…she’s so…"

  "I know, Jordan," she said as she patted her back. "She’s just not herself. She gets upset really easily, and I know she blames herself for not being healthy. She’s as depressed as I’ve ever seen her."

  "God, I wish I hadn’t come," she mumbled. "I know I made it worse!"

  "No you didn’t," Jamie assured her as she squeezed her shoulder. "Believe me, if you hadn’t come, she would be morbidly depressed that no one cared about her. She’s just really ill and it’s affected her mood."

  "Should I go upstairs and try to tell her that we don’t blame her?"

  "If you want to you can try, but there’s a good chance that she’ll blow you off or cry like a baby."

  "I think I’ll try anyway," she gamely replied as she gathered her courage. She shot Jamie a worried glance as she admitted, "I’m not great with emotional situations."

  "It’ll be okay," Jamie soothed. "Just talk to her in jock talk. That should help."

  Jordan slowly made her way upstairs and paused when she came to the first open door. Ryan was lying on the bed on top of the covers with her arm thrown over her eyes. Jordan sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed the tangled hair from Ryan’s face. "We’re not mad at you for missing the games, Ryan. We know how sick you’ve been. To be honest, I’m amazed you’re not hospitalized! You just look so frail," she said softly as a tear leaked out of her eye.

  Ryan kept her arm right where it was, but she did warn her friend, "I’m probably still contagious, you know. You might want to keep your distance."

  "Thanks for the warning, but I want to be with you. I didn’t come over here to make you feel bad, Ryan. I really want you to know that I miss you, and not just as a teammate. I miss talking to you and joking with you, and kicking your lame little butt," she said as she patted her cheek.

  Ryan dropped her arm and gave her a genuine half smile. "I could probably still take you in a 400, and I’m as weak as a sick pup."

  "One time, O’Flaherty. You beat me one time, and I swear that I was carrying at least five pounds of lead in my pockets. When you get well, we’re having a showdown! Loser has to carry the winner’s baggage on all road trips for the rest of the year!"

  "You’re on, slowpoke," Ryan said as her half smile turned into a full one.

  Jordan leaned over and lightly kissed her cheek. "Your weak little germs can’t even touch me," she teased, giving her a gentle squeeze.

  Ryan held on for a moment and whispered, "Thanks for caring about me."

  As she rose, Jordan gave her a high wattage grin as she admitted, "I have to care about you. You’re the only person on the team who makes me feel superior in every way!"

  Ryan’s fever remained low, but her illness had progressed into her bronchial tubes and she began to cough not long after Jordan left. The coughing persisted until her lungs ached, and Jamie was afraid she would crack a rib. After a rather frantic call to Annie for advice, and another to Ryan’s family doctor, Jamie went to the drugstore and bought thick rolls of adhesive tape and picked up some powerful prescription cough syrup. She carefully wrapped the tape around Ryan’s painful ribs, providing some support, then gave her a dose of the codeine-laden medicine, knocking her out until the next morning. The drug-aided quiet allowed both women to sleep through the night for the first time in a week, mildly replenishing their physical reserves.

  On Friday afternoon Mia burst into the house carrying lunch for the patient. "Hey, Ryan," she bellowed from the living room, "luncheon is served."

  Ryan came to the railing of the stairs, clad in only her underwear. "You brought me lunch?" she asked in delight. "I’ll be right down. I just need to get dressed."

  "Don’t bother on my account," Mia said easily. Ryan dutifully slipped on her pajamas and padded downstairs moments later. "If you’re comfortable in your undies it certainly doesn’t bother me," Mia assured her.

  "I think it bothers Jamie," Ryan confided. "She doesn’t even like me to be naked in the locker room."

  "She’s a quirky one," Mia agreed as she pulled out big containers of pasta and meat sauce.

  "Oohh, I love Italian food," Ryan enthused, salivating.

  "What don’t you love?" Mia teased. "I’ve never seen you turn your nose up at any food."

  "It’s funny," she said. "I don’t have an appetite in the morning, and I barely eat dinner, but I’m famished at lunchtime. It really helps to have something substantial, Mia. Thanks a lot."

  "So how are you doing?" Mia asked as they dug into the feast. "Are you totally bummed about not playing tonight?"

  "It truly sucks," she agreed. "I’ve worked so hard that it just kills me to have to miss all of these games."

  "Have they won the games you’ve missed?"

  "No," Ryan reported glumly. "They’ve only played one, but it doesn’t look good. I’m not saying that I’m the key to success, but when you practice as a team you get used to certain things that certain players can do. I think my absence has thrown off the chemistry of the team."

  "It really does suck," Mia said sympathetically.

  They spent the next 20 minutes talking about their classes. Mia surprised Ryan to no end when she insisted on cleaning up after the meal. Ryan was fading fast and Mia gently asked, "How long have you been up?"

  "I got up when Jamie did. I’ve been reading ever since, so this is a pretty long spell without a nap. I should go back to bed, but I’m so sick of being in that bed alone I could scream!"

  "Oh! I forgot your other present!" she said excitedly as she ran to her bag. She returned a few minutes later with the September issue of Playboy. "Look! Girls of the PAC-10!"

  Ryan had to chuckle at her excitement. "Thanks, Mia. Maybe this will get me jump started a little bit. I’m afraid Jamie might turn me in for a new model. Her needs have been largely ignored for nearly a week now."

  "No way, Babe. She’s stuck like glue. Come out to the library and sit with me for a while. I’ve got to get some reading done for my afternoon class, but I could give you a head rub while I do it."

  "Would you really?" she asked excitedly. "I’d love to be able to relax down here, and some human contact would be most appreciated."

  "Come on," she said as she linked her arm with Ryan’s.

  Minutes later Mia was ensconced on one end of the long leather sofa with Ryan’s dark head resting on her lap. She held a paperback book in one hand while the other trailed lightly through Ryan’s dark locks. Half an hour later Jamie found them in a much more relaxed posture. Ryan was sound asleep, still resting on Mia’s lap, but now on her side with her feet drawn up. Mia was likewise asleep, with one arm protectively draped across Ryan’s shoulder and the other tangled in her hair. A copy of Playboy was haphazardly lying on the floor, obviously dropped from Ryan’s limp hand. I think I’m going to have to get a taping system like my parents have, she muse
d. All sorts of stuff obviously goes on here when I’m at school!

  Part Five

  Later that night, Ryan was so happy to be able to go to her family’s home that she actually seemed significantly better. By bedtime things had almost reverted to normal except for the dreadful cough that threatened to loosen the shingles on the roof. Luckily the cough progressed and by Saturday night it was productive, which eased the strain on Ryan’s body. But the sound of her coughing up gobs of phlegm set Jamie’s teeth on edge, and she prayed for a quick end to this phase of the illness.

  Monday was Labor Day, but Jamie still had golf practice that morning. After a tedious argument, she went alone, refusing Ryan’s entreaties to be allowed to accompany her. By the time she got home, Ryan was edgy and irritable. "I can’t stay in the house alone all day," she whined. "Can’t we go to the party?"

  Martin was working all day, so the traditional O’Flaherty Labor Day party was being held at Francis’ home. Ryan had been lobbying to attend, but Jamie didn’t think it was wise to allow her to be around the baby on the off chance that she was still infectious. The second draining argument of the day raged for a while until Jamie got frustrated and called Martin at work and had him forbid his daughter from going to the party. As Ryan stalked away from the phone, Jamie heard only one word that was mumbled under her breath. "Traitor!" she grumbled as she went back to bed.

  When Ryan woke, Jamie came over to sit on the edge of the bed and said, "I hate being such a Scrooge. And I hate seeing you so sad. Can you think of anything that might brighten your mood?"

  "I need to be outside, Jamers," she begged. "I feel like I’m dying a slow death being cooped up like this. It’s been a week and two days!"

  "Okay, Love. How about this? I know your stamina isn’t good, so let’s go over to Olympic. You can drive the cart and feel the breeze in your hair and get a little sun on your face."

  "Okay," Ryan allowed. "That sounds pretty nice. Can I get out of the cart and hit a few balls?"

  "Of course. If you feel like it, you can do anything you wish."

  "Hey, Con, wanna play golf this afternoon?" Jamie asked when she spotted Conor watching TV.

  "Well, I was going to go to the party." He looked at his pale sister and caught the look Jamie was giving him. He had heard snippets of an argument and had guessed that it centered around Ryan not being allowed to attend, so he backed off. "That’s no big deal though. I’d be glad to play. Where do you want to go?"

  "Let’s do Olympic," Jamie decided. "It’ll be much less crowded."

  His eyes lit up immediately. "Now I’m really in." Looking at his sister, still clad in her pajamas, he asked, "Think you can get into clothes some time today, Sis?"

  "Hey, I can’t help it that I have something wonderful to stay in bed for," she drawled, giving her blushing partner a pointed look through her droopy bangs.

  "Stop that!" Jamie mouthed, narrowing her eyes at her impish partner.

  "I’ve gotta get me some of that," Conor decided. "I’m gonna be the old maid around here if I don’t get shakin’."

  "Can we help?" Jamie asked, thinking that Conor’s prediction was very close to coming true.

  "Maybe," he said seriously, his dark blue eyes focusing sharply. "Maybe you can."

  "Hey, James, what’s up?" Mia’s perky voice answered.

  "Do you want to play golf with us this afternoon? We’re gonna play Olympic."

  "Golf, huh?" she asked slowly. "Is that the best you can offer?"

  "Conor’s playing with us, and he specifically asked if you might be available."

  "You know, I can’t think of a thing I’d rather do than play a little golf," Mia decided immediately.

  It was after six when they finished the round, and everyone was starved. "Since Da’s at work, why don’t we have dinner at our house?" Ryan asked, drawing approval from the foursome. "Barbequed chicken okay with everyone?"

  "Works for me," Conor said, and Mia echoed him.

  "Jamie and I will go to the store. You two go home and get the grill started, okay?"

  "Will do, Sis," he agreed, giving Mia a long, appraising glance as she walked in front of him, headed for the truck.

  "Conor. Conor. CONOR!"

  "What?" he said, looking at his sister with annoyance.

  "Don’t forget to start the fire…in the barbeque pit…not your loins!" she added, just so there was no confusion.

  "It’s kinda nice having Conor cook for us, isn’t it?" Ryan asked as she and Jamie relaxed in the living room. The recuperating woman had held up remarkably well, and Jamie had been pleased that she didn’t even try to push herself to play. She seemed happy to drive the cart and urge her partner on, and Jamie could see some of the sparkle come back into the blue eyes as she soaked up the warm sun. When they arrived home, Conor had taken over the grill, and Mia had appointed herself his assistant. Each time Ryan had ventured outside she felt like a third wheel, so she finally gave up and stayed in the house with Jamie.

  "I like it," Jamie agreed. "And Mia seems awfully interested in the big guy."

  "Vice versa, too," Ryan decided. "I’ve always thought he and Mia would be good together. I wonder why he didn’t pursue her after we took them to the baseball game?"

  "Mia wondered the same thing," Jamie revealed. "Don’t you ask him questions like that?"

  "No. We try to stay out of each other’s romantic lives as much as possible. I don’t really know what’s up with him on the girlfriend front. All I know is that he’s not had a steady in almost three years. After he decided not to move in with his girlfriend, he seemed to shy away from getting serious."

  "Sounds like his sister," Jamie teased.

  "Yeah," Ryan mused. "We’re a lot alike that way. That’s why I’d love for him to find someone he meshes with. I’m so much happier now than I was before, and I think he would be too."

  "You sure that it’s not just misery loves company?"

  "Nope." Ryan’s dark head started to shake as she declared, "Bliss loves company, too."

  During dinner the sparks were flying so furiously between Conor and Mia that Ryan was on the verge of giving them a tray so they could eat in Mia's room. After a while, Jamie and Ryan began to have a separate conversation, doing their best to ignore the other pair.

  As soon as was polite, Ryan stood and offered to do the dishes. "I’ll help," Jamie piped up, trying to give the other couple some time alone. She and Ryan dashed into the kitchen, the smaller woman leaning heavily against the door. "My God! We weren’t that bad at first, were we?"

  "Yes, of course we were," Ryan laughed. "Luckily, we were trying to keep it a secret, so not many people were subjected to our mating rituals."

  "Lucky them!" Jamie cried, crossing over to the sink. She paused as she reached it and turned to regard Ryan with a curious expression. "We’re not that bad now, are we?"

  "Weeeeell," Ryan drawled, making her partner blush, "we still have our moments. But having our own room helps matters quite a bit."

  "Jeez! I sure hope so. That was absolutely embarrassing."

  "Well, I think it’s cute," Ryan decided. "I don’t get to see Conor around women very often. It’s kinda nice to live vicariously through him."

  "You won’t have to live vicariously for long. Your sex drive will come back as soon as you’re well. Don’t worry about it."

  "I’m not exactly worried," Ryan decided. "It just feels odd not to have any desire whatsoever." She pulled her loose jeans away from her waist and cast a tentative look into her pants. "Don’t forget about me," she urged her fun parts, drawing an amused grin from her partner.

  Ryan wasn’t sure what time it was when the sound of someone opening and closing the drawers and cabinets in their bathroom startled her awake. It’s not Jamie, she managed to think, her lover wrapped around her like a blanket. Oh well, Mia must be looking for a spare toothbrush for Conor. I’m sure he’s still here, she thought with a mental smirk.

  The fight began just moments after dawn whe
n Jamie woke to the sight of her lover getting dressed for school. "No way, Ryan," she said firmly, drawing an outraged look from the cool blue eyes.

  "I’m better!"

  "Yes, you are, but you still had a little fever yesterday. You can’t go back to school until your temp has been normal for 24 hours. I’m sorry, Babe, but I’m not going to bend on this."

  "Do you mean to tell me that you think you’re going to stop me from going to practice today?" Her eyes were fiery now, and Jamie knew that she had to pull out the big guns.

  "Ryan, Coach Placer told me that he will not let you practice until I give him the okay. I’m sorry to do this, but you can’t practice today, and you can’t play tomorrow. You’re too weak and too run down to even attempt it."

  The enraged woman turned and stormed into her room, slamming and then locking her door, refusing to respond to Jamie’s quiet "I love you," before she left for school.

  After waking at ten, Ryan went downstairs to fix a little breakfast. Mia came into the kitchen, took one look at her and nearly leapt at her, slapping her with both of her open hands, yelling in frustration as she cried, "How old were those fucking condoms!"

  Ryan was protecting her body as best she could, not having any idea why her roommate was trying to knock her senseless. She finally grabbed both of the flying hands and gave her a good shake, needing all of her energy to do so. "What in the hell are you talking about?"

  "The condoms!" the smaller woman cried. "How old were they?"

  "Mia, I don’t know what you’re talking about! I didn’t give you any condoms!" The irate woman lifted her knee, looking like she was going to give her a shot to the groin. Ryan bent over, narrowing the potential target as she pushed her away sharply. "What in the hell is wrong with you!?"