"Best idea I’ve heard all day," Ryan agreed. She sat down on the roomy Adirondack chair and waited for Jamie to snuggle in. After a few minutes they were both comfortable, and as Jamie lay her head against Ryan’s chest she felt some of the fractures in her psyche start to heal almost immediately.
"I don’t know how I would get through all of this without you," she whispered, feeling the rock-steady beat of Ryan’s heart against her cheek.
"Not to be too nitpicky, but you wouldn’t have these problems without me, Jamie. I know that you don’t regret being with me, and you know that I wouldn’t change a thing, but the fact remains that my presence has caused the rift with your father, and I’m very, very sorry for that."
"Nope. You couldn’t be more wrong," Jamie said confidently, her head slowly moving back and forth against Ryan’s chest. "If not you, it would have been something else. He’s unwilling to let me make my own decisions, Ryan. I think it’s almost irrelevant what those decisions are. This would have come up at some point, with you or without you. I’m just glad that you’re here to help me through it."
"I always will be here for you, Jamie. No matter what." She wrapped her arms a little tighter around her partner, trying to convey her support through her physical presence. "Do you feel like talking about it?"
"Not much," she admitted. "I’m pretty drained. But I know you’re anxious, so I’ll give you a quick version."
"If you don’t want to, I can wait…"
"No. It’s all right, Honey. You should know this." She took a deep breath and said, "My father didn’t just have you followed. He also sicced his hounds on my mother."
Ryan’s body tensed appreciably and Jamie asked quietly, "You didn’t know about this, did you?"
"No. I know nothing about your mom that you don’t know," she said immediately, feeling a twinge of regret that her partner had to question that.
"Well, the bottom line is that she’s been having an affair in Italy. With a married man," Jamie added, still not quite comfortable with the facts.
"Oh, Honey," Ryan crooned, holding her close. "How awful for you to learn that."
"No, no, I’m okay with it," she decided. "Well, not okay, I guess, but I’m certainly not angry or upset with her." She lifted her head and gazed into Ryan’s eyes, their heads so close that she could make out each individual eyelash. "If I had listened to you earlier, this might not have gotten to this point."
"Huh? Listened to me about what?"
"You told me early on that I shouldn’t be so judgmental of my father’s behavior, Ryan, and if I had listened to you he might not have gone this far. He was trying to show me that both you and my mother have done the same things that he has."
"What a bastard," Ryan mumbled, feeling her ire rise at the man who would intentionally try to poison his daughter’s feelings for her mother.
"Yeah. No argument there," Jamie agreed. "Nonetheless, Ryan, if I hadn’t made such a big deal about his affairs, he might not have felt that he was justified in trying to dig up dirt on both you and mother."
"Jamie, it certainly isn’t your fault--" Ryan began, but Jamie interrupted.
"No, of course it isn’t. He acted with malice, Ryan, I know that. All I’m saying is that I think I pushed him a little by being so sanctimonious about his affairs. It really isn’t my business, and I’m sorry that I made such a stink about the whole thing."
"That’s very mature of you to admit," Ryan said softly. "You’ll always have feelings about the way your parents conduct their relationship, but it’s really not a good idea to take sides. A relationship is just too complicated." She sighed deeply and added, "To be honest, I lost all respect for your dad when I learned he was cheating on your mom. I wouldn’t tell him that, of course, but it really pissed me off."
"I don’t know, Ryan," Jamie said softly. "I really do understand that I should stay out of it—but I don’t know how to learn that kind of information and not get involved." She shrugged and added, "It doesn’t matter much anymore I suppose."
Hearing the defeated tone in her voice, Ryan said, "I assume that you’re pretty angry with your father for having your mother followed."
With a heavy sigh, Jamie admitted, "You know, I think I’ve reached my capacity for anger. I’m no angrier than I was when I went there today. Maybe I’m just numb…I don’t know." She snuggled back down and added, "Maybe he’s finally killed the love I still had for him. He just seemed pathetic today, Ryan. I almost feel sorry for him." She climbed off Ryan’s lap and extended her hand, helping her partner up. "Maybe he should hook up with that young associate and start over. He could start a new family and try to do it right this time." She turned and gazed at Ryan with a look of pure determination. "He might as well start a new family, because he’s lost the one he had."
Ryan was waiting outside of Coach Placer’s office on Tuesday when he emerged to walk over to practice. "Have you made up your mind about taking me this weekend?"
He laughed at her determination and promised, "I’ll let you know after practice, Ryan."
"Just let me know what I have to do to convince you, Coach," she said earnestly. "If you’re worried about the cost of taking me, I’ll even pay my own way. It’s really, really important to me to be with the team this weekend, even if you don’t think I can play."
He shook his head, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to refuse her. "Okay, Ryan, let’s go over right now and measure your vertical leap. If you can show me that you still have any explosive power in those skinny legs, you’re on."
When they arrived at the RSF, she ran a few easy lengths of the gym and bounced around a little bit before she did a few deep squats. She exploded out of a couple more squats and pronounced herself ready. Dipping her fingers in the blue chalk she made her first mark on the wall. Concentrating fully, she crouched down a little and began her approach. She exploded from her mark and propelled herself towards the wall, brushing the surface with the tips of her fingers before she landed softly. Coach Placer gave her a puzzled glance as he pulled out his tape measure, then he called Erin over and asked her to confirm his measurement. Ryan just stood there grinning with a satisfied smile on her face.
"O’Flaherty," he finally said, "I don’t know how you go from being critically ill to improving your leap by two inches in less than two weeks, but if it works I want the whole team infected!"
She gave him a happy smile as she revealed, "Losing twelve pounds made a big difference in my leap. I feel much lighter and more explosive. I’m going to try to play at this weight and see if my stamina can hold up."
"Well, we should have an indication by Saturday night," he said with a twinkle in his eyes. "Erin, make sure Ryan’s on the roster for this weekend."
Her exuberance got the best of her and she performed a flawless standing back flip in front of the startled coach. "Don’t break your neck!" he yelled. "You’re going to be the death of me, Ryan!"
"Nah. If I haven’t driven my father mad yet, you’re safe."
As they snuggled together later that night Jamie slid her hand around to cup Ryan’s breast. Taking a tender nip of a pink earlobe she teased, "You’ve lost a substantial amount of my favorite assets, Sweetie. What are we going to do about that?"
"Are they really smaller?" Ryan asked as she looked down, finding herself unable to judge.
"Yeah, they really are. I can get one all the way into my mouth now," Jamie said as she wiggled an eyebrow.
"It felt like you were trying to suck my ribs out of my chest," Ryan gently chided, reaching around her shoulder to flick the tip of Jamie’s nose with her index finger. "You were quite the voracious little lover tonight."
"It was funny," the blonde said seriously, her face pensive. "It felt a little like making love to a different body. Everything felt a little strange." She let her hand slide down Ryan’s still moist body, pausing occasionally to consider the changed contours. "You were still you, of course, and you acted the same, but you felt so different that it was odd.
I know every little part so well—it’s going to take me some time to get used to the new topography."
"Would you be willing to live with the new look until the season’s over?"
"Sure, if you want to stay this light. But why would you want to? You told me that 200 is your ideal weight, and you’re a very, very long way from that."
"200 is my ideal for lifting weights, looking muscular, and having power. I generally try to get up to around that before the AIDS Ride. But volleyball rewards quickness and jumping ability much more than power. Even though I’m weak right now I felt like my first step was quicker today. I think I’m going to try to play at this weight and see how it goes."
"That will give me an excuse to go buy you new bras." She clambered over her partner’s sweat-slick body and grinned widely at her. "And you know how I love to buy you lingerie," she whispered.
"I don’t know why you enjoy it so much," Ryan reasoned. "You never let me keep it on for long."
"It’s kind of like having really pretty wrapping paper on a present. It really dresses up the gift, but you can’t wait to get that paper off and get your hands on the present," she said with a big smile, her hands roaming all over her big live present.
"You’re incorrigible," Ryan said with a smile as she felt her lips being captured in a sultry kiss. "And that’s just how I like you."
Wednesday dawned foggy and cold, and the tall figure in the dark gray suit had to occasionally wipe the condensation from his eyes as he walked along. It was a good walk from Jim’s apartment to Nob Hill, but he hadn’t considered taking a cab. He was rising so ungodly early lately that he was usually looking for ways to occupy the long hours before dawn. A bracing walk fit the bill, and as he neared his destination he was pleased to note that it was past six. He’ll be up by now, he decided.
His prediction proved accurate a few minutes later when his father opened the door to his small house and blinked at his visitor in surprise. "Good morning," he managed. "Is everything all right, Jim?"
"Not really, Dad," he admitted with uncharacteristic honesty. "May I come in?"
"Oh!" His father looked completely flustered as he stepped aside and let his son enter. He followed the younger man into the sitting room, pausing at the door to inquire, "Coffee?"
"Oh, no thanks, Dad. I stopped twice on the way over here. It helped to keep my hands warm."
"You walked over here?" Charles asked, cocking his head in question.
"Uh, yeah. I uh…I’m having a hard time sleeping in the morning. It helps to get up and get going. I crossed paths with the cleaning crew in the office yesterday," he chuckled mirthlessly.
His own coffee forgotten, Charles sat down and gazed at his son for a moment, seeing the lines of stress that had settled around his mouth. His color was unusually pale, and his eyes bore none of their typical sparkle. "Tell me what’s bothering you, Jim."
Looking into his father’s eyes, Jim had a brief flash of recognition as he realized how starkly similar the warm green eyes were to Jamie’s. "Has Jamie talked to you, Dad?"
"About?" the older man asked, noncommittally.
Jim sighed, realizing his father would guard his secrets carefully, as usual. "About what’s happening between her and me. About me having a private investigator look into Ryan and Catherine’s lives."
The gray eyebrows shot up, Charles’ eyes growing wide. "No, she probably didn’t want to give me a heart attack," he muttered, shaking his head. His eyes fluttered closed as he asked rhetorically, "What will it take for you to come to your senses?"
Jim took the question seriously and looked at his father with eyes bright with emotion. "I think I have, Dad," he said earnestly. "I really think I have." Now only one eyebrow remained arched and Jim continued, "I don’t know why it took me this long, but it finally sank in," he insisted. "Jamie’s just as hard-headed as I am, Dad, and she’s not going to let me dictate to her about her choice of…companions," he said, not being able to come up with a more palatable word. "It finally dawned on me that either I drop the issue, or I’ll lose her…permanently." His eyes were unfocused as they stared at a space over Charles’ shoulder. "I can’t lose her, Dad. She’s my life."
Charles got up and sat on the sofa, next to his son. "I’m glad to hear that, Jim. It’s a start."
The younger man looked up at him. "A start?"
"Yes. It’s just a start. You’ve decided to honor her choices because of the harm that will come to you if you don’t. That’s not the same as truly validating her, son. That’s just protecting your own self-interests."
"What are you saying, Dad? What do I have to do?"
The older man sighed and patted his son on the shoulder. "You need to realize that you have a lot of work to do here. This is not going to be an easy journey for either of you." He gave him a speculative look and asked, "Is Jamie willing to work on this with you?"
"That’s why I’m here," Jim admitted, shifting nervously in his seat. "I uh…thought that you might be willing to talk to her for me, Dad. She won’t take my calls, and I don’t think that she reads my letters. I can’t reach her—no matter what I’ve tried."
"That’s not really surprising, is it?" His words were harsh, but his eyes held their normal warmth, softening the sting. "You’ve done some things that are very hurtful, Jim. You can’t expect her to ignore that just because you see that your tactics were ineffective."
Jim stared at the floor, his lips pursed in a long-familiar pout. "That’s where I thought you might come in," he mumbled.
The older man was slowly shaking his head. "I can’t do that. You need to find a way to make amends to those three women. It’s not going to be easy, Jim, but you’re going to have to do it. All I can advise is that you keep trying—over time she might give you another chance."
Getting to his feet, Jim walked over to the window, watching the increasing activity on the street as the residents of Nob Hill set off for work. "I find it hard to believe that you won’t even try to go to bat for me, Dad." His voice was low and soft, and revealed only some of the deep hurt that he felt. "If not for me, I thought you’d get involved for Jamie’s sake."
The priest walked over to his son and lightly touched his shoulder. "There isn’t a thing in the world I would deny you, Jim. I swear, if I could make this all go away, I’d do so in a minute. But my getting involved wouldn’t do a thing to solve the problems that exist between you and Jamie. The only way out is for the two of you to work this out together." Patting him gently he added, "I know patience isn’t one of your strong suits—but this time you’re going to have to try to be patient."
"But I’m leaving for Washington on Friday! I can’t leave with things like this!"
"I think the die is cast, Jim. Jamie’s in charge here, and you can only pray that she’s willing to forgive you some day."
"I’m not so sure Jamie is the one in charge," the younger man grumbled. "I still think Ryan has an undue influence over her."
Charles grasped his son’s shoulder and turned him so they were facing each other. "That’s not true," he said firmly. "There’s a very big difference between having undue influence over someone, and caring deeply for them. Of course Ryan’s opinion is important to Jamie, but her influence is anything but undue. I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but at this point in her life, Ryan’s influence is greater than yours, and that’s as it should be."
Jim leaned his head against the window frame, staring vacantly for a few minutes. He sighed softly, then nearly whispered as he said, "If that’s true--I’ve lost her."
"You don’t know that," Charles warned. "I know how difficult this is for you, but this is one time that you can’t force your will. You have to let Jamie approach you—when she’s ready."
With a decided slump to his shoulders, Jim walked to the door. He paused for a moment, and gazed at his father with eyes filled with pain. "You don’t know how hard this is, Dad. It’s…it’s truly devastating." He sighed deeply, then opened the door and
stepped out into the dull gray morning.
Charles went to the window and watched him walk down the street. He felt a deep, familiar ache in his chest, as his considered his only son. I know exactly how it feels to have my best efforts to reach my child rebuffed, Jim. I know that feeling all too well.
On Thursday morning Ryan asked, "Wanna go to Union Square with me this evening?"
"Uh…sure. You know I’ll go anywhere as long as I’m with you. Although why you want to go to the shopping district is anyone’s guess."
"Hey, I shop too," Ryan insisted. "I do wear clothes, ya know."
"Well," Jamie grinned saucily, "that’s not a requirement to keep me happy, but I guess some people aren’t as open-minded as I am."
"This is true," Ryan agreed, placing a kiss on Jamie’s forehead. "I’ll be home about the usual time. We can eat there if you want, or you could make sandwiches or something if you have time."
"What are we going for, Ryan? And what’s the rush?"
The taller woman narrowed her eyes, looked suspiciously over both shoulders and said, "Top secret. Can’t reveal our destination."
Ryan was released a little early that night since they were going to have a run-through the next morning before they left for Washington, giving them a little extra practice time. She and Jamie parked in the lot at Macy’s and as they exited the lot, they immediately crossed the street. When Ryan opened the door to the Levi’s Superstore Jamie shot her a glance as she passed. "We came all the way over here for jeans? They sell jeans three minutes from our house."
"Not these jeans," Ryan assured her, immediately heading to the glass-enclosed elevators for a quick trip to the upper floor. She led the way to a section of the store with a long counter and a series of dressing rooms, and not much else. "Hi, I need to order some custom fit jeans," she told the first saleswoman who approached her.
Jamie’s mouth gaped as she said, "They make them to order?"
"Oh, yeah," the woman said. "Any style, any fabric, any color. It’s your choice."
Honesty - SF8 Page 25