As the players took their places, Jamie noted that Ryan had rolled up the sleeves of her jersey and neatly tucked them in so they were invisible. She wondered why that was necessary, but her question was answered a moment later. Stanford served to open the match and after a flurry of fakes and leaps by both outside hitters and the middle blocker, the setter passed the ball to Ryan. She exploded from behind the three-meter line and slammed the ball so forcefully that after it bounced untouched on the center of the court, it ricocheted into the stands and hit a very surprised woman right in the lap. Catherine slowly turned her head to look at her daughter, her wide eyes nearly popping from her head. "Did you see…?"
"Yep. And I figured out why she doesn’t like sleeves on her jersey," she said happily, realizing that Ryan needed every bit of mobility she could muster.
Cal was very sharp in the first game, and they stunned the Cardinal with a 15-7 win. Conor was making a run for nachos and as he walked by Jamie he predicted, "The next game will not be so easy."
True to his prediction, the Cardinal bounced back and squeezed out a 15-13 win. Their winning point did not come easily, however; Cal was dogged on defense, and the final point came from a long rally that had the entire gym buzzing. Ryan made a spectacular dig by diving for the ball with her entire body perpendicular to the floor. Amazingly, she managed to return the ball as her body hit hard on the rubberized surface, but Stanford’s highly touted middle blocker managed to stuff the ball right back at Cal for the winning point.
A ten-minute intermission followed game two, and the O’Flahertys buzzed about the match for the entire time. Each of the cousins had a theory on what Cal could have done differently to take the game, but Caitlin cared only that Ryan was missing. She was not happy until the team came back out and she got to watch her favorite playmate jump around again.
Game three went to Stanford rather easily at 15-6. Cal looked nervous and tentative for a good portion of the game, and their service game was abysmal. Jamie counted six net serves in a row, and it was clear that the team was becoming frustrated. As point after point went against Cal, Jamie tapped Niall on the shoulder and asked, "Why do they keep congratulating each other when they lose a point?"
"You know, I’ve got to admit that makes no sense to me. I guess it’s a woman thing," he said as he shrugged his shoulders.
Jamie wasn’t sure how it happened or what the difference was, but game four turned into a showcase for her lover’s enormous talent. Ryan was in some kind of a groove that lasted throughout the game. The announcer called her name again and again, shouting out ‘Ryan O’Flaaaa-her-ty’ every time she scored a kill or blocked a ball. Ryan was in the backcourt serving at 13-11 and Niall leaned over and predicted, "She’ll nail this one with a jump serve."
Ryan bounced the ball twice and tossed it high into the air. Just when the ball began to descend she leapt as high as she could and smashed the ball with her open hand. It skimmed just over the tape, barely missing being called a fault. The ball curved wickedly and landed untouched between four diving players who hit the mat in frustration. Jamie detected a glimmer of a smile on her partner’s face, but she knew that Ryan would never show her feelings too obviously in a match like this.
Serving for the game, Ryan zipped another scorcher, but this one was dug out in a desperation play by their talented freshman outside hitter. The rally had been going on for nearly a minute when the ball was perfectly fed to Jordan. She jumped higher than Jamie had seen her go all night and slammed the ball powerfully into the leg of a Stanford player. The ball flew off at a wild angle, and Cal had evened the match.
"This is enervating, Jamie!" Catherine cried as she sank to her seat. "I’m exhausted from watching! How can she play so hard for so long?"
"I have no idea, Mother," Jamie admitted. "She just hates to lose so badly that she would do anything to avoid it. I guarantee she doesn’t even feel tired right now. She can just go into a zone and do what she needs to do, ignoring her own body."
Another short intermission allowed everyone to get up and stretch. There were a few cheerleaders, and they performed while the crowd buzzed about. Caitlin was getting fussy again so, after Jamie and Catherine changed her, Conor took her for a horsey ride around the auditorium. After ten minutes of racing around, they were both able to sit and enjoy the final game of the match.
Both teams were a little tentative at the start. The ball was served at least ten times before a point was scored, and Coach Placer finally called a time out to re-group. The break was only one minute long, but both sides seemed to benefit from it. The points started adding up, and in a matter of minutes the score was knotted at 13. The rotation was in Cal’s favor, as Niall pointed out. Cal’s smallest player was serving and their best middle blocker and the two outside hitters were in the frontcourt. Stanford’s smallest player was at the net and their best middle blocker had been taken out in a defensive strategy, leaving them a little weak.
As the team got ready, Erika Selznick came up behind Ryan and stood so close that their shoes touched. She appeared to be speaking to her, and Jamie noticed that she placed her hand against Ryan’s butt and held two fingers pointed down at the ground for the other players to see. "Niall, what’s the setter doing?" she asked.
"She’s telling the team which attack strategy they’re using," he said. "She gets behind Ryan so the other players can see her fingers. The dark shorts allow the others to see her better, but since Ryan can’t see she needs to tell her directly."
"Okay," Jamie said slowly, only slightly placated at the thought of another woman’s hand on Ryan’s butt.
The next point came quickly on a service ace. Everyone in the stands was on the edge of their seat as the next ball was served. It was returned quickly, and the setter called ‘Ryan!’ before she tossed the ball high into the air. Ryan’s body went up higher than Jamie would have ever thought possible. She pulled her arm back as she flew until she was coiled into an inverted ‘C’. Jamie got ready for a massive spike, and she could see the Stanford team brace themselves. But even though the motion seemed identical to every other spike Ryan had hit that night, when Ryan actually hit the ball she touched it so gently with just the tips of her fingers that the ball seemed to float to the ground. Time seemed to stand still as every Stanford player dove for the softly falling ball, but it settled onto the floor with a satisfying thump as the Cal team leapt into the air as one.
They hugged and slapped hands and squeezed each other until they squealed. The coaches even hugged as the victorious players celebrated, but the merriment only continued for a few seconds. Both teams got into a neat line and ran up to the net to shake hands. As each player lightly tapped hands, Jamie noticed that Ryan seemed to know some of the seniors. She stopped for a second and embraced two of the women, and after the line was finished Stanford’s coach came over and gave Ryan a very enthusiastic hug. She placed her hand on Ryan’s shoulder and spoke to her for a few moments as Ryan beamed down at her. A firm swat on the butt sent her on her way back to the arms of her giddy teammates, but before they trailed back into the locker room, Ryan turned and locked eyes with her partner for just a moment. The look of pure joy on her face was worth any sacrifice that Jamie could have made to allow her lover to play on the team, and she tried her hardest to imprint that blissful smile permanently into her memory.
Jamie knew that everyone would want to congratulate her partner, so she raised her voice and said, "Let’s all go to our house for some dessert!" Everyone seemed in favor of that plan, so Martin, Conor, and Brendan decided to split up to guide all of the cousins to the house. Jamie removed the house key from her ring and sent them ahead while she waited for Ryan. Catherine offered to stop at the store and pick up food and Jamie gratefully accepted, advising her, "Pretend you’re feeding a group of hungry stevedores. These people eat!"
Jamie was waiting by the locker room when the team started to file out. As each player walked by she invited them to the house, and most immediately ac
cepted. Ryan finally came out with Jordan and they both accepted Jamie’s hearty congratulations. "Poke your head back in there and tell everyone else that we’re having a little celebration at our house," Jamie said. "Your family is all waiting for you."
"Excellent!" Ryan cried. "I was afraid I wouldn’t get to talk to them."
"Not a chance, Baby," she assured her.
Ryan looked around and noticed that a large group of young girls was clustered around the narrow opening where both teams exited their respective locker rooms. Narrowing her gaze she elbowed Jordan and said, "What gives? Those kids are all waiting to get autographs from Stanford! Unacceptable!"
Striding over to the crowd she directed a pointed stare at Stanford’s freshman outside hitter, the woman most in demand. The attractive young woman gave Ryan a smile and shrugged her shoulders. Ryan returned her grin, but determined that she couldn’t let this insult continue. Turning to Jordan she asked, "Where do you guys sign autographs?"
"Uh…we don’t," Jordan said. "No one ever asks for them."
"Are you nuts?" the dark woman scoffed. "We’ve gotta create a little excitement here, pal." She cast a glance at Jamie who was holding a free poster that had been given out to everyone attending the game. "Hey, Babe? Do you have any felt-tipped markers on you?"
"Yeah, I have some in my art supplies," she said. "Do you want ‘em?"
"Yep," Ryan decided. "We’re having an autograph session." She strode past the Stanford team and went into the large, unstructured area right behind the court. Speaking to one of the maintenance workers, she secured a long folding table and a few chairs, then set about finding some of her teammates. In a few minutes every chair was full, and when the young girls saw the players busily signing posters, the crowd gathered around like bees to honey. Ryan smirked at Jordan and said, "We might not get any publicity, but we can create our own buzz."
Eleven of the fifteen players were able to make the impromptu party, and Jamie smiled to herself as she watched her mother, Maeve, and Ryan’s aunt Peggy set out the massive amounts of food that Catherine had purchased.
When the team filed in, they were greeting with much acclaim by the crowd. They were all dressed in their warm-up suits; and since Cal had gone to the expense to have their first names embroidered on the breast, each was easily identifiable.
Ryan took quite a bit of kidding for having invited the entire gym to her home, but everyone had a good time. Since it was a school night no one stayed long, and within an hour nearly all of the food was gone. Catherine shook her head as she stared at the empty platters and said, "It…it was like a swarm of locusts!"
Martin slid his arm around her shoulder and advised, "You should have seen the work they did when the boys were teenagers! They ate three times what they do now!"
"I thought I was buying four times more than we could possibly eat," Catherine marveled.
"Leftovers are just an elusive dream at the O’Flahertys'," Jamie informed her.
Martin recruited his brothers to help with the cleanup since they had not been part of the preparation. Catherine said to Ryan, "I don’t think I’ve ever seen men get up to clean a kitchen. Do they always do that?"
"Yep. Since they were raised without a mother they had to learn to take care of themselves. They’re all quite handy."
"You are just a remarkable group of people," Catherine said fondly. "And I swear I have never seen a performance like you and your friend put on tonight!" Jordan was standing close by, and Ryan pulled her over to receive her share of the compliment.
"I’ve never played with a fellow outside hitter who was as talented as Jordan. It’s amazing how much easier the game is when you have a balanced attack."
"Well I clearly know nothing about the game, but I can appreciate talent and you two just shone tonight."
"I’ll say," Jamie agreed as she slid in under Ryan’s arm. "My big boomer really came through didn’t she?"
"Boomer, huh?" Jordan asked with sparkling eyes.
"Jamie!" Ryan moaned. "Do you have to give her any more ammunition?!"
As Ryan and Jamie lay in bed that night, the taller woman asked, "Were you as surprised as I was to see Jordan and Mia this morning?"
"Mmm, yes and no," Jamie said.
"Care to elaborate? Or is that your full statement?"
Jamie sighed and admitted, "I’m not surprised to see her with a woman, but I was surprised to see her with Jordan. I don’t see that there’d be any spark there whatsoever."
She said this so dismissively that Ryan grew a little defensive of her friend. "What? Jordan’s not good enough for Mia?" She paused a second and then realized, "Hey, you knew something kinda big, and you obviously didn’t tell me about it." A wide smile settled onto her face as she added, "Good job!"
Jamie tossed her blonde head dramatically, insisting, "I can keep a secret just as well as you can. And I didn’t mean that Jordan’s not good enough for her, I just meant that Jordan seems so aloof and self-involved."
"Oh, that’s a ringing endorsement," Ryan said, a little pout forming on her lips. "Glad you like her so much."
"I do like her…kinda," Jamie said, trying not to offend her partner.
Ryan half sat up, leaning on her braced hand. "Do you really not like her, Jamie? I didn’t know…"
"No, no, it’s not like that. I just don’t know her well enough to have a real opinion. I don’t share the sports thing like you two do, I’m not real competitive like you both are, and I’ve never had an in-depth conversation with her about anything. I just don’t know her well enough to like her or not like her."
Ryan nodded, agreeing that all of her partner’s points were true. "Okay. I guess I get that. I guess over time you’ll learn more about her…especially if she and Mia start dating."
"Hmm…what do you think about that, Hon? Did they sleep together?"
Ryan smiled broadly and said, "Ask Mia."
Ryan and Jordan emerged from the Recreational Sports Facility the next afternoon, their sweat-soaked clothes draped limply on their bodies. "I love working out hard on a nice warm day," Ryan mused as the afternoon sun him them.
"We don’t get many of ‘em," the lanky blonde acknowledged. "Enjoy it while you can." They walked down the wide concrete entryway to the building, idly chatting until Jordan said, "Wow, could that old guy be any more obvious?"
"Huh?"
"There’s some old dude over there blatantly staring at us."
She was just about to make a rude gesture when Ryan followed her gaze and said, "That old dude is my father-in-law. I’d better go see what’s on his alleged mind."
Jordan placed a restraining hand on her arm, asking seriously, "Are you sure, Ryan? I can stay with you if you think you might need help."
"Nah," she said lightly, pleased that her friend was willing to stick up for her. "I think he finally understands that he doesn’t have any hold over me. He probably just wants to bust my chops again." Just to maintain her normal routine she leaned forward slightly and gave her friend a very light kiss on the lips. "See you tomorrow at practice."
Jordan ruffled her hair, dramatically wiping her hand on her shorts after her hand came up damp. "Man, you sweat!"
"Yup. Part of my charm," the grinning brunette replied.
She jogged over to Jim, approaching him rather gingerly, as she would have greeted a suspicious-looking dog. "What’s up?" she asked, trying her best to be civil.
"I’m uh…I’m leaving for Washington tomorrow," he told her. "I’ll be gone for a couple of weeks, maybe more."
She gazed at him quizzically, her dark eyebrows inching up in a standard "so what?" look.
He was standing awkwardly, looking like he needed to do something with his hands. "I’ve uh… I’ve tried everything, Ryan. She’s blocked my number on her cell phone, my e-mail gets returned as undeliverable, and my letters came back ‘addressee unknown’."
Another shrug from the dark-haired woman. "This surprises you….how?"
No
w he began to let his frustration show. He started to pace in a quick line in front of her, his hands jammed into the pants pockets of his suit. "Catherine won’t speak to me, my own father tells me that he won’t intercede for me." He looked up at Ryan with a look of pure panic and said, "I can’t lose her, Ryan. I can’t!!"
"You could have thought of that sooner, Jim," she said with as much empathy as she could muster. "I think it’s too late in the game to have regrets now."
He grasped at her desperately, gaining large handfuls of wet shirt. "That can’t be true, Ryan! It can’t be!"
She pointedly removed his hands, shaking her head as she said, "I think it is true, Jim. Trying to destroy her feelings for Catherine was the last straw for her. I honestly don’t think she can forgive that."
"Ryan, you’re my last hope. I…I don’t have anywhere else to turn." His eyes had filled with tears, and his trembling lower lip betrayed his vulnerability. "Please…please talk to her for me," he begged, his voice raspy with emotion.
She shook her head weakly, finding it difficult to refuse such a heartfelt plea even though she knew he was getting exactly what he deserved. "I can’t do that," she insisted. "I can’t manipulate her into seeing you. She makes her own choices, and she chooses not to see you."
"Please," he whispered, one last time, the word reverberating in her ears as she turned her back and went to fetch her bike.
"That’s all he did?" Jamie asked again. "He just asked you to speak to me…to get me to talk to him?"
"Yes, that’s all," Ryan repeated. "He’s apparently leaving for Washington, and he’s going to be gone for a few weeks. I guess that made him feel he needed to take some action."
"Best of luck," Jamie muttered, turning back to the stove to finish their dinner preparations.
Both women were unusually quiet during dinner, only making occasional comments about their respective days. It was almost a relief when they finished eating and Ryan could spend a half-hour in the kitchen, focusing on the routine, calming tasks of cleaning up.
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