"Yeah, she really was. I lost touch with her when her order left our parish, but I still think of her often," Ryan said.
"I do have one more question," Jamie finally said. "That balletic performance of cleaning the kitchen was something to behold. How did that come about?"
"That's another effect of my mother's illness. When she was too ill to cook or do housework we were all assigned jobs. I was so little that I had to do the jobs closest to the floor. Brendan helped me with the moping for years, but I think it was important that they made me feel a part of it," she smiled at the memory. "After my mother died, we just kept to the same tasks. Da transferred from active fire fighting and became a cook. He did it mostly because he just wasn't willing to risk his life anymore. We couldn't afford to lose him, too. He became a good cook and we just drifted into him doing all the cooking and us doing all the cleaning. It's a little militaristic, but that's how a firehouse is run."
Jamie spent a few more minutes looking at the photos placed all over the room. She found one of Ryan's mother when she was about Ryan's age. "Wow, she was a great looking woman," Jamie said.
Ryan grasped the picture in her hand and looked at it for a few moments. "Yeah, she was," she said softly. "I used to wish I looked more like her. She was small and delicate, fair skinned, with auburn hair and vivid green eyes. She had a lovely soprano singing voice and just the gentlest touch you could imagine. When I was going through puberty I felt so big and awkward that I wished I had inherited her bone structure. But it all worked out in the end," she admitted.
"Yeah," Jamie agreed with a chuckle. "I don't think you'd get much sympathy complaining about your looks, Ms. O'Flaherty."
Ryan blushed deeply as she changed the subject quickly. "Let's go see what the boys are doing," she suggested. As they returned to the second floor Conor came out of the bedroom and asked with a hopeful grin, "Jamie, Ryan said you have a Boxster. Could I take a look at it?"
"Sure, Conor, you can drive it if you want."
"Can I really?" he asked with delight. "I've never driven a Porsche. Cars are kind of my passion but I have to drive a truck for work," he said sadly.
"Here's the keys," she replied as she tossed him the set.
"Aren't you gonna go with me?" he asked as his baby blues lit up.
"I will if you want me to, but it's okay if you want to go alone," she replied.
"I don't want to hurt anything. You can show me where all the buttons are," he grinned.
As they began to make their way to the stairs Ryan grabbed Jamie's arm and whispered, "Be careful. He thinks he's God's gift to women."
Jamie wrinkled up her nose and whispered back, "And you don't?"
Conor wore a look of childlike exuberance as they walked down the street to the waiting Porsche. "Thanks a lot for letting me do this, Jamie," he said with a dazzling grin.
"It's my pleasure," Jamie replied. "If your love of cars is anything like your sisters, it would be a crime to deprive you of this experience," she teased.
"I think I've got the car bug more than Ryan does," he said reflectively. "But she's got the motorcycle bug a lot worse than I do. We used to drive Da crazy. We were always in the garage working on some engine. I got my license when she was only 12, and from that time on you couldn't keep the grease off of her."
"So she gets it from you?"
"I guess she does. Neither Brendan nor Rory cares much about cars. Da just sees them as transportation. I think I got my license at a time when Ryan idolized me a little, and she took it up to be able to spend more time with me."
"That's so cute," Jamie laughed. "But didn't it bother you to have your little sister hanging around all the time?"
He looked at her quizzically as he opened the driver door. "Why would it bother me? You know Ryan. She was always pretty much like she is now. She never was a pest. She picked things up really quickly and was always eager to do the grunt work. She had a lot of patience for a little kid, and her small hands fit into a lot of spots that mine wouldn't."
Jamie was charmed by this open expression of affection. "You all seem so close, Conor. It's really nice."
"Yeah, we are. I guess we're lucky that way, huh?"
He was now firmly ensconced in the driver's seat, carefully noting all of the gauges and switches. He adjusted the side view mirrors and brought the engine to life. "Oh, this is sweet", he said as he closed his eyes and let a satisfied smile cross his lips.
"Conor, that is exactly what Ryan looked like when she turned the car on!" Jamie said in amazement.
He looked at her with a leer. "I bet she didn't punch it like this!" he said as he hit the accelerator hard and they lurched away from the curb.
Conor drove much faster than Jamie thought prudent. But the streets of the Noe Valley were deserted on this early Sunday evening, so she allowed him to conduct his test drive as he chose. She noted that he seemed much more aggressive than Ryan, and that he seemed to get some satisfaction from making her squeal as they crested a rise in a hill. I bet that's not the only way he likes to make women squeal, she thought. He could certainly be a bad boy fantasy for a lot of women.
"Do you think I could drop the top?" he asked after they reached a more congested neighborhood.
"Sure, as long as you keep it under 40 or so. I'll freeze if you go as fast as you have been," she warned.
"Scout's honor," he promised as he raised 3 fingers in pledge.
They glided down Market for a while, Conor keeping his promise about the speed. They had crossed nearly the entire city when Conor noticed that Jamie looked a little cold. "How about a hot drink? There's a Starbucks right up ahead."
"I'd love a latte', " she admitted.
"Your wish is my command," he said gallantly, as he found an on street parking spot. "Come on in with me. You can warm up a bit."
"Okay, but I think I'll call your house to tell them we'll be gone awhile," she said as she pulled her Startac from the glove box. "What's the number?"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a $20. "You go on in and order me a latte' too. I'll call and then put the top back up. Go get warm," he said firmly.
As Jamie hopped out he dialed the little phone. Ryan answered on the first ring. "Hi, Sis, it's me."
"Where are you?" she said crossly. "You've been gone over an hour."
"You sound a bit possessive, Ryan. I thought this one was on my team," he laughed.
"She is on your team, but she's somebody else's starting pitcher--so keep your mitts off her," she warned.
"I have no intention of touching her...unless she asks me to of course. We're going to stop for coffee to warm up a bit. We'll be home soon. Don't wait up if you get tired. I'll make sure she's well taken care of."
"Conor, if you harm one hair on her head I'll kick your butt all the way down Market Street," she threatened.
"How can I hurt her getting a cup of coffee?" he asked innocently.
"Just bring her back in one piece...and still engaged!" she said as she hung up.
"Gotcha!" he crowed as he shut the phone off.
Jamie was sitting at a little table with two steaming cups of latte' in front of her. Conor slid into a chair and accepted the mug with his thanks. "So Jamie," he said as he gazed at her with those intent blue eyes, "Tell me about yourself."
"What would you like to know?" she inquired, as she tried to avoid his penetrating gaze. Boy this guy could be trouble. He's a real operator.
"Well, you know all about my family, tell me about yours."
"I'm an only child. We live down in Hillsborough. My dad is an attorney and my mom stays at home. We don't have a dog. There--now we're even," she teased.
"Gee, could you be a little more succinct? You were rambling so much I think I missed a lot."
"I'm just teasing you. What do you really want to know?"
"What do you do for fun?"
"Do you mean when I'm alone or with my fiancée?" she asked innocently.
He gave her a charming smile as he drawled,
"Oh yeah, Ryan mentioned something about a boyfriend. Isn't he getting out of San Quentin soon?" he asked as he pursed his lips in thought.
"Something like that. He's graduating from Stanford law school this year."
"Right. I knew it had something to do with law...or prison," he added as he looked a little confused.
"His name's Jack and we're getting married a year from June."
"How old are you, if I can be indelicate?" he asked.
"I'm 20 now. I'll be 22 when we get married," she said.
"Isn't that kind of young to be making permanent life choices?" he asked with a note of concern. Gosh, I'm 27 and I can hardly decide what to have for lunch. There are so many choices on the menu and they all look so good," he drawled.
"Yeah, but when you find that perfect, one of a kind sandwich, you better order it before someone else does," she replied, keeping up the analogy.
"With my luck, there would be some hidden ingredient that I was allergic to," he laughed.
"Well, I'm really happy with what I've ordered," she stated firmly.
"Well, Lassie, if you ever get hungry for a little Irish fare," he said with a heavy brogue, "don't forget me."
"Between you and your sister, no woman in San Francisco is safe," she said as she laughed heartily.
"You're telling me," he agreed. "I'm just glad she's a lesbian. If she were a guy, there wouldn't be any straight women left unsullied."
"Does her, um, sexual orientation bother you, Conor?"
"No, it really doesn't. It was obvious from very early on that she was never going to be swooning over guys. She never did any of that teenaged girl stuff. She never had crushes on guys or anything. And it's not like she wasn't good looking or anything," he added. "When she was 14 I had 18 year old friends who wanted to go out with her, and Rory had to stop bringing guys over because they all wanted to hang around until Ryan came home. She finally told us when she was 17 and we were all like, 'What took you so long?" he laughed at the memory. "I'm sure it helps that we live around a lot of gay people and we had a gay cousin that we all loved, so it doesn't seem like such a big deal."
"I'm sure my family would not be so accepting as yours," she said disparagingly.
"Well, lucky for you, you'll never have to find out, will you?" he said as his blue eyes bore into hers.
"No. Of course not," she said a little defensively as she averted her gaze.
The next day Ryan's head was swimming from the plethora of questions that Jamie threw at her. They were sitting outside having their usual juice break. It was a clear sunny day keeping with the usual Bay Area phenomena of the best weather of the year being in the fall. Ryan was wearing a black warm up suit made of a fabric that looked like washable silk. A bright white T-shirt peeked out from behind the jacket. Ryan looked carefully at Jamie as she spoke. She was wearing a sleeveless golden yellow sweater that just covered the belt of her green khaki pants. A matching cardigan was loosely tied around her shoulders. Ryan thought about how much she liked Jamie's clothing. She always wears something that compliments her. Like that sweater. It is just a shade or two darker than her hair. I wonder who taught her how to dress? Probably her mother, unless her mother hired someone to do that too!
"So what instruments does Rory play?" Jamie persisted as she asked her fiftieth question of the day.
"He plays keyboard and accordion."
"Do the rest of you play anything?" she continued.
"Yes," Ryan answered patiently. "We all have some competence with an instrument. And the answer to your next question is that I play clarinet, flute and the Irish whistle," she grinned. "I can muddle along on keyboards and I was rabidly interested in the guitar for a few years, but my ardor has cooled recently."
"Tell me about the kind of music his band plays," Jamie inquired. "I don't know much about Irish music."
"I can see there is only one way to satisfy your curiosity," Ryan laughed, "The next time he plays locally I'll take you to hear him. Then all of your questions will be answered."
"I'd love to," Jamie enthused.
The week passed in its usual fashion. On Thursday night Jamie was riding her bike home after a long night at the library. It was about 9 o'clock and the wafting scent from 'Sufficient Grounds' called to her. She locked up her bike and walked in to the warm space. As she stood at the counter waiting for her latte' she spied Ryan sitting in the corner, her head bent in conversation with a young woman. A very young woman. A very, very young woman. Boy does she not fit the mold. The woman had a shaved head and a riot of piercings on her ears and eyebrows. I bet she's got some that are hidden, also. That bet was quickly resolved when she got up to go to the restroom. She walked right by Jamie and fairly large rings clearly showed their shape upon her nipples through her thin tank top. Jamie stared at her in shock. She couldn't be out of high school! She turned her gaze to Ryan who was staring at her with a bemused expression on her calm face. Jamie marched right over to her, her outrage growing with each step.
"Gee, Ryan, isn't it a school night?" she asked sweetly. "You don't want your date to be late for the bus!"
"What do you mean, Jamie?" Ryan inquired with a look of pure innocence on her face.
"That woman doesn't look like she's even out of high school!" she fumed.
"Don't be ridiculous, Jamie," she said with a big grin. "Jennie isn't in high school."
"Well, you could have fooled me..." she began but was cut off by the woman's return.
"Jennie, Jamie thought you were in high school," she laughed.
Jennie laughed too, and mumbled, "I wish."
"Jamie, Jennie is in grade school," she said with a sweet innocence that matched Jamie's earlier tone. "She just turned 13."
Jamie felt as though her head would burst. She knew her face was bright red and she felt completely unable to form a word or a thought.
Ryan turned to Jennie, "You don't mind if I tell Jamie about the nature of our relationship, do you?"
"Nope," Jennie replied easily as she smiled up at Jamie.
"I work with Jennie though a group called 'Gay Teens in Crisis'. She had some tough times at home, and is currently living in a group home here in Berkeley. She's kind of my little sister," she said as Jennie beamed at her.
Jamie felt all of the color drain out of her face. She struggled to pull out a chair and sit down before she fell down. As soon as she looked up at Ryan's sweet smile, she felt her color rise again, this time in shame.
"Did you order something, Jamie?" Jennie asked looking at the empty space in front of Jamie.
"Uh huh, a latte'," she mumbled in reply.
"I'll get it for you. Then I gotta take off, Ryan. 9:30 is my curfew," she said as she rose from the table.
Jamie stared at Ryan who just looked back at her placidly. They sat that way until Jennie returned. She kissed Ryan on the cheek and picked up her book bag and her bike helmet. "Put it on," Ryan ordered.
"It's so rank, Ryan. I've got an image to maintain."
"Well, I happen to like your brain," Ryan said as she stood and plunked the helmet on the stubbly head, "and since you don't even have hair to cushion it, you've gotta wear this."
"Okay, you win," Jennie said as she gave Ryan a quick hug. "Good to meet you, Jamie," she said over her shoulder as she hiked up her huge khaki pants and left the shop.
Jamie dropped her head to the table with an audible thunk. "I am such a jerk!" she moaned into the wood.
"It's okay, Jamie," Ryan replied as she patted her back. "It's not like it's outside of the realm of possibility that I would be with a younger woman," she admitted. "Although 13 is a little young, even for me. I like my women to at least be able to go to an 'PG-13' rated movie with me," she teased.
"I am such a jerk!" Jamie repeated, still not lifting her head from the table.
"You are most definitely not a jerk, Jamie. I was taunting you a bit. I made it worse, and I'm sorry," she said sincerely. After a moment she added, "As long as you've got your head do
wn there can I ask you something?" she inquired.
"Sure," she mumbled from her new table top home.
"Were you at the bookstore last Wednesday night?"
"Ohhh, God," she moaned, and sunk even lower in her chair. "Is there no end to my humiliation?"
"What did you see?" she asked gently as she again placed her hand on Jamie's back and gave it a reassuring scratch.
"I saw you...um... talking to someone," she said as she lifted her head, hoping that Ryan did not know what she had seen. "How did you know I was there?"
"I saw your car when I went outside. I figured you were there, but I was kind of a... occupied," she admitted with a little blush. Now Jamie felt much better. She was beginning to get her normal color back and had risen to sit upright in her chair. But Ryan decided she needed to be completely honest with Jamie, so she told her the rest. "Plus, Babs told me she thought she saw you," she admitted.
As Jamie's color rose, her body sunk until she was again face down on the table. "Shoot me now, please," she moaned. "What did she tell you?" she asked with a quavering voice.
"Ummm, she was under the impression that we had benn...umm... dating," Ryan explained. "And she said that you looked kind of upset." Ryan paused a bit. "I wasn't going to say anything, but I thought that maybe that was why seeing Jennie bothered you," she revealed.
"Yeah, that's probably true," she said with her muffled voice.
"Why didn't you say something, Jamie? I hate to think that my behavior upset you in any way. Tell me what happened," she said gently as she lifted Jamie's head with both hands.
Jamie lifted her head the entire way and sat up straight. "I had to pick up a book for that report we were doing. I went and was just leaving when I saw you. It was like watching a train wreck, Ryan!"
"Um...I don't think I get the analogy," she said with a confused look on her face.
"You know, when something happens that you know you shouldn't see, but you can't help it. I saw you getting kind of um...frisky, and Babs came up behind me. I felt like I had been caught doing something wrong. She jumped to all sorts of conclusions, but I was too embarrassed to set her straight. I just stood there unable to explain a darn thing."
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