"Thanks, Mr. Regan," Ryan said, and Jamie echoed her words. They scampered down his wobbly stairs and crossed the small back yard, finding a smiling Kevin standing next to the ivy choked fence, leaning against a tall ladder.
"We thought you might prefer not having to scale a fence on your way home," he said.
"Hi, guys," Conor’s voice called from the other side of the fence.
"You two are godsends," Jamie sighed, looking at the rickety six-foot-tall stockade fence.
Ryan climbed to the top of the ladder, then carefully stepped down the treads on the other side of the fence. Her judicious moves signaled her bother that her muscles were still complaining, and his offered hug was far gentler than normal. "Thanks for doing this, Con. I could have boosted Jamie, but we’re both still a little sore."
Playfully ruffling her hair, he said, "Anything for you, sis."
"Hey," she said, "here’s something you can do. Mr. Regan’s back steps are so bad he’s gonna fall and break a hip. Will you fix them for him?"
"Sure," he said. "You caught me in a generous moment."
Charles left Hillsborough not long after Jamie and Ryan, then Marta, and finally Helena packed their bags and took off, leaving Jim and Catherine alone with the swarm of reporters. It was just dusk, and they went into the living room to unwind. "Drink?" he asked.
"No, no, thanks," she said, wishing that she could grab the bottle and guzzle it, but determined to keep her promise to herself to cut back to one drink a day.
"You didn’t drink yesterday either," he said. "Is that a conscious choice?"
She paused a moment, not sure of how much she felt safe revealing. Deciding that she didn’t want supervision in case she didn’t toe the line, she said, "I’m just not in the mood, Jim." Taking a seat on one of the sofas, she kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet up on the cushion. "It’s been a rough couple of days, hasn’t it?"
"Having your daughter’s life in danger gives a whole new meaning to the word rough," he said, shivering as he recalled the incident.
"I don’t think I could have gone on if we had lost her," Catherine said, her face grimacing in pain at the mere thought. She was relaxed enough that some of the fear and the terror she had felt that night started to break through, and she began to cry. Jim moved to sit close, and wrapped his arms around her, letting her get some of her feelings out and allowing a few of his own tears to slide down his cheeks as well.
"We didn’t lose her, Cat. She’s fine, and safe, and well. Don’t let yourself dwell on could-have-beens."
"I’ve always loved her desperately," she said, her voice almost inaudible through her tears. "But now that I’ve come to know her better, I feel bonded to her in a way I didn’t know was possible. It would destroy me to lose that now," she choked out in a rough, thin voice.
"I know, sweetheart," he said, closing his eyes to fight back the tears. "I really do understand. She’s given us both a second chance to be better parents. God knows I didn’t deserve one, but she’s such a loving person that she’s even taken me back. Looking at her makes me so proud, Cat. She’s the only thing in my life that I’m genuinely proud of."
"Sometimes when I’m feeling particularly down, I think of Jamie, and remind myself that I’ve made a small contribution to the world by giving birth to her," Catherine said, surprising herself by revealing something so personal to her husband.
"You make my world a better place," he said softly, tightening his hold on her body.
She didn’t comment, not wanting to ruin the moment by injecting reality into the situation. The phone rang, and she felt relieved to be able to get up and answer. Her laughing voice filled the house as she spoke to her daughter, and Jim smiled contentedly at both the sound and the obviously positive message that Catherine was receiving.
Catherine knew that bedtime was going to be a trial, but even with this knowledge, she couldn’t make herself discuss their future. As expected, Jim got up and followed her upstairs when she announced that she was going to bed. When they got to the top of the stairs, he cocked his head as she said good night. "Would you like to sleep together again?" he asked, trying to sound casual. "It really helped me last night. First good night’s sleep I’ve had since Wednesday."
"I uhm … I don’t really think that’s wise, Jim." Seeing the disappointment in his green eyes, she reminded him, "I’ll be gone tomorrow, so we might as well get used to sleeping alone tonight."
He placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her near. "We don’t have to sleep alone, Catherine. Not tonight, or any other night. We can still give this another try."
She shook her head slowly, glad that she had prepared herself for his offer. "No, we can’t, Jim. Nothing has changed. We’re supporting each other because of this trauma, and I’ve been very grateful to have you here – but now that it’s over, we need to move on."
"But, Cat, why not try again with someone who loves you … who supports you? You must trust me a little to have been so close to me the last few days. Isn’t that something to build on?"
Nodding slightly, she admitted, "Yes, of course that’s something. It’s just not enough to build a relationship on. Especially not since we have so much emotional baggage we're carrying."
"Cat, I know that the biggest problem is my infidelity, but I swear … I swear I’m willing to give up other women for the rest of my life if you’ll only give me another chance."
She gave him a sad smile and placed her hand on his cheek. "I know you didn’t mean it this way, but the way you framed that speaks to exactly what the problem is. I didn’t decide to give up other men when I married you. I stopped desiring other men. That might sound like an exercise in semantics, but it’s a very, very meaningful difference for me. I don’t want you to give up something you desire, just to be with me. I’m unwilling to be with a man who doesn’t desire me above all others." She fixed him with an intense gaze and asked, "Can you honestly say that you desire me sexually more than any other woman? Do you want me more than you want Kayla?"
"I haven’t slept with her since the fall …" he said, but she squeezed his shoulder to interrupt him.
"That’s not what I asked. I asked who you desired more."
He was determined not to lie, even though every instinct demanded that he do so. Images flashed through his brain of the youthful vigor of his young associate. He thought of her passion for sex, her complete lack of inhibition, her willingness to try anything that he asked for – things that Catherine would likely faint from the mere suggestion of. Trying to evade the question, he equivocated. "That’s not a fair question, Catherine. Being in love with someone has so many elements … sex is just one of them. It seems unfair to base our future on that one thing."
She nodded slowly. "You may be right. It may be unfair … but it’s how I feel. I may be alone for the rest of my life, but the next man who shares my bed is going to want me … and me alone."
As was so often the case, his mouth started to speak before he considered his words. "Is that true of your lover in Italy? I’m sure his wife wouldn’t like to think you were the only woman he desired."
Giving him a cold stare she said, "You make a good point. I’ll give that some thought while I’m there." Turning abruptly, she said over her shoulder, "Good night."
He stared after her, painfully disgusted with himself. Maybe in the next 46 years you can learn to think before you talk!
The phone rang early on Sunday morning, and Ryan put the paper down and got up from the breakfast table to answer it. "Nollaig shona duit," she said, her Irish accent in full force.
"Siobhan, have you gone Gaelic on us?" her father asked, laughing heartily.
"Nope. I decided to answer the phone wishing whoever was calling a Happy Christmas. Anyone who knows me will recognize my voice … anybody else can kiss my …"
"Now, now, let’s not start with the profanity on the day after the Savior’s birth, young lady."
She laughed and said, "I am feeling a lit
tle feisty today. Some reporter called earlier, and I said, ‘Go n-ithe an cat thú is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat,’ before I hung up on him."
"What does that mean, love?"
"That’s one of Granny’s favorites, Da. May the cat eat you, and may the cat be eaten by the devil."
"A lovely wish for the holiday season," he said with amusement. "Your aunt and I were heading off to Mass. Will you go with us?"
"I don’t think so, Da. I’m not up to having flashbulbs popping in my face today."
"How bad is it?"
"Not too," she admitted. "But only because they think we’re still in Hillsborough. I don’t know what they’ll do when Jim and Catherine leave today."
"It’s a bloody crime," he grumbled. "You risk your lives to save a child, and now you’re hunted like a fox. It makes no sense."
"I know," she said. "I think you can come over here through the front door, Da, but we’ve got an escape route through the neighbors’ back yards. We’re not leaving the house in the traditional way until this is over."
"We’ll come by on the way to church. I miss you," he said.
"I miss you too, Da, but I think we’re going to stay in Berkeley after my practice today. It’s just too much hassle getting back and forth."
"I understand," he said, "but we’ll miss you for dinner. How will you get to Berkeley? Didn’t you leave the car in Hillsborough?"
"Yeah, we did, but Jim’s bringing it back over here. We’re going to figure out a way to meet up without detection."
"Let me drive you over there," Martin said.
"I don’t even know where we’re going to meet, Da. Besides, the reporters know your car by now. Jim’s gonna call us when he gets to the city, and we’ll decide what to do." She sighed and said, "This is really a bitch, Da."
"I share your feelings, darlin’. Not your words, of course, but I share your feelings."
When he reached the city, Jim called from his cell phone. "Where should we meet?" he asked.
They negotiated for a few minutes, and finally decided to meet at the Noe Tennis Courts, located just off Diamond and 24th. After traipsing through the neighbors’ yards again, Jamie and Ryan managed to make it to the park. Jim was right where he said he’d be, but he wasn’t in the Range Rover.
Ryan opened the rear door of the big, black BMW, and said, "Nice wheels ya got here. I noticed this the other night, but it was too chaotic to comment then. Is it new?"
"Yes. My lease on my other car was expired, and I decided to go with a little extra horsepower this time. Like it?"
"Very sweet," Ryan said as she sank into the black leather seat.
"Really nice, Daddy," Jamie said, "but how will we get to the Range Rover?"
"I want you to drive this car," Jim said. "It will take you anywhere you want to go … a lot quicker than the Range Rover will."
"I don’t know, Jim," Ryan said as she scooted around in the unbelievably comfortable rear seat. "This is a little rich for my blood."
"Nice back seat, isn’t it?" he asked, looking in the rear-view mirror. "Forty one inches of leg room."
"That’s just about what I need," she said. "But I hate to take your brand new car."
"It’s got … let’s see … 90 miles on it, Ryan," he said at his glanced at the odometer. "I’m almost ready to trade it in." He shot her another glance and said, "I’d feel better if you girls took this one. This is the 750 iL Protection model. Bulletproof glass, run-flat tires, light body armor. I don’t think you’ll need any of that, but this big V-12 will leave anybody who’s following you in the dust." He gave Jamie a grin and said, "Ask the idiots in the news van that tried to follow me to the airport to drop your mother off. I lost them before we hit the freeway."
Ryan reached over the seat and patted his shoulder. "I don’t think I’ll be taking any evasive maneuvers in your car, Jim. What about you, honey? Feel like drag-racing any reporters?"
"Unh-uh. No way."
"So, it’s settled, girls? You can leave the car at the airport when you go on your trip."
"We’ll drive it until we leave," Ryan said. "But Jamie will have to go the airport alone. I have to ride the bleeping bus with my teammates to get there. I’m sure Coach won’t cut me a break just because of our little incident."
"Would you like me to …?"
"No," Ryan said immediately, not sure what Jim was going to offer, but quite sure that she wanted no part of it.
"It sure would’ve been nice if I’d ever taken the time to get to know my neighbors, wouldn’t it?" Jamie asked wryly as they sat at the end of their block, mentally counting the cars double parked in front of the house.
"Well, do you want to go to practice with me? Maybe we’ll get a bright idea while we’re there."
"Not many other options," she said with a shrug.
Ryan trotted across the court, finding Coach Hayes chatting with Lynette. Lynette immediately wrapped Ryan in a hug, and the coach even patted her on the shoulder, displaying a rare degree of warmth. "Good to see you’re all right, Ryan. Tough break. How are you -- physically?"
"Not great. I’m as stiff as a board, and I’m still taking muscle relaxants, but I should be okay by the time we’re ready to play in North Carolina." She twitched her head towards the door of the gym and asked, "Is it all right for Jamie to stay and watch practice while she waits for me?"
The coach narrowed her eyes, seeming to give the matter her consideration. "I don’t think so, Ryan. It’s important to keep the practices for players only. She can walk over to Telegraph and do a little window shopping while she waits for you."
It took Ryan a minute to let the message reach her brain, and just a moment longer for her to control her mouth. Saying what was on her mind would clearly get her suspended, and she didn’t want to leave the team just when they had started to play better. Lynette gave her a sympathetic look, but she couldn’t offer much more than that. Practically dragging her feet across the floor, Ryan poked her head out of the door and said, "You won’t believe this, but she won’t allow you to watch. Do you mind just hanging out on Telegraph?"
"Don’t worry about me. I’ll wait in the car. It’ll take me two hours to get all of the radio stations programmed." She gave Ryan a bright smile, even though every muscle twitched to go kick Mary Hayes’ ass all over the court.
Lily and Ella entered the gym just then, squeezing past Jamie and offering a nod to Ryan.
She nodded back, and then continued her rant. "Do me a favor, will you? Remind me never to join a team if the coach is a complete asshole, okay?"
Ryan’s voice was tight with anger, and her volume was quite a bit louder than normal. Jamie’s eyes widened as she looked up to see the coaches walking back to the locker room, clearly within earshot. Looking sick, she muttered, "I think she heard you."
Surprising the heck out of her partner, Ryan shrugged her broad shoulders and said, "I don’t give a flying fuck." With that, she placed a gentle kiss on Jamie’s cheek, and marched into the locker room.
Maybe it was because Jamie was being so gracious, maybe it was because the coach had been so curt and unfeeling, maybe it was just because Ryan was at the end of her emotional rope – but whatever it was, by the time she reached the locker room, she was even angrier than she had been moments earlier. She walked up to the two coaches and stuck her chin out defiantly. "Coach, you told us that if we win both games in North Carolina, I can go directly to the Bahamas."
"That’s right," she said.
"Whether or not we win those games, Jamie and I are going to the Bahamas," Ryan said. "We’re not coming back here first." Her arms were crossed, and she stood at her full height, daring the coach to try to make her back down.
The other players were all trying to get as close as possible, without being too obvious about it. There wasn’t a sound in the normally bustling place – every ear tuned to the showdown.
"We have a team rule about returning as a group, Ryan. I know you’re aware of it."
&nbs
p; "I am," she said. "I’m telling you in advance that I’m going to break that rule if we don’t win both games. I need a break, and flying back and forth across the country isn’t the way to get one."
"You’re the one who set it up this way, Ryan. You could have chosen a vacation on this side of the country. People do it all the time."
"That’s not what we chose to do," Ryan said. "So what’s the verdict?"
"The usual. If you miss the plane, it’s 25 laps. You can do them after our next practice." She looked unconcerned, and Ryan actually thought that the confrontation had gone well. Lynette shot her a relieved glance, and after another moment, the rest of the team gathered around as the coach called them to order.
"Okay, we’ve got a lot on our agenda for today. But first, I have a small addition to our team rules. From here on in, we’ll be conducting bed checks. Every player will sleep in her assigned room – with her assigned roommate. Violation of this rule will result in an indefinite suspension." She looked around at the puzzled faces, finally landing on one face that was not puzzled in the least. Ryan’s dark, glowering visage was burning two laser-like holes through her, but she merely gave her a half smile and cocked her head. "Understood?"
As soon as practice was over, Lynette followed the coach into her office. She opened her mouth to speak, but the coach beat her to it. "I know, I know … Ryan didn’t really deserve that." She sat down in her chair, shaking her head. "I swear I don’t understand that woman. She’s the best practice player I’ve ever seen … she has more talent than any two women I’ve ever coached … but she continues to break the simplest rules! What confuses the hell out of me is that most of the time she doesn’t seem like a prima donna. Why in the hell does she jerk me around like that?"
"Well," Lynette said, "most of the rules she’s broken were right at the beginning of the season. She wasn’t aware of most of the ones she broke, Mary. I think she just got a bee in her bonnet after being called on the carpet a few times. Ryan’s a very proud woman – as well as a little thin-skinned."
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