Lifeline

by Susan X Meagher

  "I was outside. I was going nuts," Ryan said softly. "I couldn’t stand to be trapped in here another minute. I finally went to the gym and tortured some of the equipment. I guess I didn’t realize how much I was sweating. I couldn’t find a hair dryer …"

  Jamie yawned noisily, and immediately made an offer. "This is silly. Let’s get up and go right now. You’re obviously not going to sleep."

  "Really?" Ryan asked, her hopeful, fragile expression nearly breaking Jamie’s heart.

  "Of course," she said, giving her a firm squeeze. "I might need to crawl in the back seat and sleep, but I think you’ll feel better once we’re out of here."

  "I will," she said, her voice hoarse with emotion. "I’m sure I will."

  "Come on then. We can grab breakfast on the road, and shower when we get there. Let’s get out of here before the reporters wake up."

  When he heard them stirring, Martin came into the living room. "What are you two up to?" he asked. "It’s not 5 a.m.!"

  "We’re going down to Pebble Beach, Da," Ryan said. "I can’t take another minute of this."

  He nodded, understanding that his daughter was one of the last people in the world who could tolerate forced confinement. "How long will you be gone?"

  "As long as we have to be. I’m sure we’ll be there on the weekend," she said. "Any chance of a visit?"

  "You don’t have to ask twice," he said. "We’ll be there."

  "Bring everybody. Come down on Saturday morning and stay over, okay?"

  "We’ll come on Friday," he said. "And we’ll stay the whole weekend. Will you be all right, sweetheart?" he asked, cupping her cheek with his hand.

  She just nodded her head.

  "Call me when you get there, okay?"

  "I will," she said, another few tears leaking out. "Don’t worry about me, Da, I’m sure I’ll be fine as soon as I don’t feel like a rat caught in a trap."

  Her wrapped her in his arms and held her tight, rocking her soothingly for a few moments. "I know that it upset you, darlin’, but I think your coach did you a great favor by asking you not to play basketball for a while. You and Jamie can relax and just focus on building your strength back up. I’ve been worried about you ever since you had the flu, and this stress is just making matters worse." Patting her at various spots, he said, "Why are your clothes wet?"

  "Long story. I went over to the gym to work out and I don’t have anything to change into. This stuff dries quickly, though. It’ll be fine by the time we get to the beach."

  He shook his head, sharing a knowing look with Jamie.

  "I’m going to focus on putting some weight back on her, and making her sleep twelve hours a day," Jamie said, patting her lover’s concave stomach when Martin released her. "I’m looking at this as a blessing in disguise."

  "Now who’s the optimist?" Ryan challenged.

  Ryan drove slowly down the streets of Carmel, looking about anxiously as she tried to determine if anyone was watching them.

  Noticing her darting eyes, Jamie placed a hand on her thigh and soothed, "We weren’t followed. No one knows we’re here."

  "They will as soon as we get out of the car. Someone will spot us and call the tabloids."

  "Eh … I don’t think that’s necessarily true … Carmel is pretty laid back, and people are very used to celebrities. There are practically no tourists this time of year, and I think the locals will ignore us completely."

  "I hope so," Ryan said, the small furrow between her eyes threatening to become a permanent fixture.

  They had breakfast without event, and Ryan started to relax just a little when she began to see that Jamie’s prediction was holding true. No one gave them a second glance at the restaurant, and when they stood on the sidewalk after their meal, the passersby blithely ignored them.

  The weather was damp and cold, the brisk wind whipping through their light clothes – Ryan’s T-shirt still damp from her early-morning workout. "Time to go shopping," Jamie said. "Is there anything you need?"

  "Need? No," she said immediately. "But there are some things that I’d like to have."

  "Name it," Jamie said.

  "Well, I could use a new ski jacket. Mine’s pretty thrashed, and I know the duct tape that holds it together bothers you. And I like those fleece pullovers you have. They look really soft. Maybe some fleece pants, too. Do they make those?"

  "Sure," the blonde said. Cocking her head at her partner, she realized that Ryan was seeking warmth and comfort in any form she could manage, and she decided that her partner would be cuddled in softness the whole time they were in Pebble Beach.

  When they entered the first store, Jamie noted that Ryan was fidgeting within three minutes. "Make you a deal. I’ll shop for underwear, pajamas, socks and shirts. You go down the street to the ski and surf shop and buy yourself a new jacket and some sweats. By the time you get back here, we’ll get you a pair of slacks and some shoes and be done."

  "I don’t need slacks," Ryan said. "Besides, they won’t have any that fit me."

  "You’ve told me you can wear men’s slacks if they’re pleated and cut slim. I want to be able to take you out to dinner, so just humor me, okay?"

  "Okay. Be back in a few."

  Take your time so I can buy some things without being supervised! Jamie thought, but wisely didn’t give voice to her wish.

  Ryan returned with an attractive jacket; a nice spruce green with a little bit of black detailing around the slash pockets. She had also purchased a pair of snug-fitting black fleece pants with a matching vest; a pair of fleece overalls in a green color very similar to her jacket; two turtleneck sweaters; and a pair of running shoes. "How’d I do?" she asked as Jamie poked her head into the bags.

  "Very well! I was afraid every purchase would be a fight."

  "Nope. I’m planning on being very compliant while we’re here. I have enough things to worry about without arguing about money."

  Jamie’s eyes brightened and she said, "Then let’s make one last stop. I’ve got something all picked out for you."

  Ryan gamely went along, allowing herself to be talked into a form-fitting, black knit polo sweater, a pair of men’s Italian-made pleated slacks in a slate gray, and a pair of shiny black leather shoes. "Done?" the dark-haired woman asked hopefully.

  "Done," Jamie said.

  "I don’t think you could look any cuter," Jamie said as she regarded her partner who was modeling in front of a cozy fire in the kitchen.

  Looking at the tall woman, Jamie practically teared up at the adorable, childlike grin on her face. "I feel like I’m three years old," she said, giggling. "I’ve always been a little miffed that they didn’t make rompers and onesies for adults. Now I’ve got one."

  Ryan was attired in her fleece overalls, along with a bright gold turtleneck. Jamie knew that her partner would neglect to purchase anything to keep her feet warm indoors, so she had bought matching pairs of Uggs–fleece-lined shearling boots that would keep them both toasty warm.

  "You do look like a little kid," Jamie said. "It’s a very flattering look on you. Your whole mood seems brighter."

  "I feel like I can breathe again," Ryan said. "I’ve never been as happy as I was when we pulled in here without a news truck or a pack of reporters nipping at our heels."

  "We’re safe here. They can’t get onto the property, and I doubt they’ll even be allowed in the compound." She looked thoughtful and said, "I’m going to call security and warn them that we’re here – just so they’re prepared."

  Ryan’s eyes grew wide at that idea. "But … but … they’ll tell someone!"

  "No, they won’t. I’ll talk to the head of the security force. He’s a nice guy, and I’m sure he’ll do whatever he can to make sure we’re safe. I think it’s wise to let him make some plans before we’re tracked down."

  Ryan swallowed, looking a little sick. "You think they’ll find us, huh?"

  "That’s a possibility," Jamie said. "But if it happens, we’ll just stay on the property. We
have plenty of room to run around here, and we can have the service stock the refrigerator with anything we want. We really don’t have to leave."

  Ryan nodded, not very happy with the thought, but resigned to their fate. "Okay. Give him a call," she said glumly.

  Jamie urged her to take a seat, then crawled onto her lap, snuggling close for a moment. "It will be fine, Ryan. I promise you that we’re safe here. We can swim, we can play tennis … there’s even enough land to run if you want. We won’t feel trapped – even if we have to stay on the property."

  Ryan nodded, acknowledging that the statement was probably accurate. "I’m just twitchy," she said softly. "My startle-response is off the scale."

  "I know, love. Why don’t you go make some phone calls," she said as she patted her gently. "Call your father at work, then call your aunt. I know they want to hear that we’re okay."

  "All right," she said, her face brightening a little. "I’ll page Conor, too, to let him know that we got the car without any problem. Then, I’ll check in with Rory, I know he’s worried …"

  Jamie got up and watched her lover go to the phone, seeing her step actually grow lighter as she went to connect with her family.

  Sneaking upstairs, Jamie stuck her head in the office and saw that Ryan was sitting at the desk, staring at her computer, obviously concentrating fiercely on something. Creeping back downstairs, she took the portable phone and called Anna, leaving her number on her machine. She took the phone and went out onto her favorite patio, the one with the glass wall and the incredible view of the ocean. She wrote in her journal for a long time, and when the phone rang she had to flex her fingers for a moment to get the circulation back into them.

  "Jamie? It’s Anna Fleming."

  "Hi, Anna. Do you have time to talk now?"

  "Yes. Is the way we’ve set this up all right for you?"

  "Yeah, I think it’ll work. If I don’t have to, I’d rather not be tied to a set time to speak with you. I’m sure some days I’ll need to speak with you a couple of times, and I’d really like the flexibility."

  "I think this will work, if you don’t mind having to wait for me to call you back when I can carve out some time."

  "I don’t mind waiting, Anna. I have a feeling I’m going to be housebound while we’re down here."

  "Oh, dear, have the reporters found you already?"

  "No, actually they haven’t. I just think it’s best for Ryan to hide out for a while. She seems to feel safer if she’s certain she’s protected."

  "That’s understandable," Anna said. "But that doesn’t tell me how you feel about it."

  "Well, this wouldn’t have been my choice, Anna. I wanted to go to Central America and lie on a beach until this all calmed down. I’m sure we would have been safe in Belize or Venezuela, and being outside in the warm sunshine was very, very appealing."

  "So, how did you wind up in Pebble Beach?"

  "It’s what Ryan needed. She couldn’t stand to be that far from her family, Anna. They’ll be able to come down and visit on the weekend, and I know that will help her a lot."

  "But, Jamie, you have needs, too, and you can’t afford to ignore them."

  "I’m not; really I’m not, Anna. But Ryan’s about ready to snap! I’ve never seen her like this, and it frightens me half to death. Her needs have to come first right now."

  "I can understand that there are times in every relationship where one partner’s needs predominate, but you have to find other ways to tend to yourself, Jamie. Why don’t you tell me why you didn’t want to visit Pebble Beach."

  "Well, it’s certainly not a bad place to be captive, but I feel a little like a bird in a gilded cage – it’s still a cage. I don’t need to hide like Ryan does right now. What I need is to interact with people – that calms me down. I’d like to spend time with my grandfather, and my mother when she gets back from Italy. I want to be outside, Anna, and not just here on the grounds."

  "Then you’re going to have to find a way to do that, Jamie. You say you’re confident that you’re safe there. Why can’t you leave Ryan for a while and go out on your own?"

  "Oh, I don’t think I could do that," she said. "She couldn’t stand to be here alone."

  "How long do you have before school starts, Jamie?"

  "Uhm … two weeks. Why?"

  "Can you tolerate being cooped up there for two weeks?"

  "Oh, God, I don’t think I can," she said, her voice filled with worry.

  "Look, Jamie, I know how much you love Ryan, but driving yourself crazy to help keep her sane seems like a bad trade-off. I also doubt that she’d like it if she knew that you wanted to go out but didn’t, because of her."

  "No, she’d hate that. But, Anna, you should see the look in her eyes when she gets frightened. It breaks my heart!"

  "I understand that, Jamie, but you have needs, too, and you can’t afford to ignore them. You’re coping well so far, but that could change quickly if you begin to feel trapped."

  Sighing, she nodded and said, "You’re right. I’m already struggling with nightmares, and these dreadful thoughts that keep bombarding me. Feeling like a prisoner will make it worse."

  "You don’t have to be gone for hours and hours. Keep it short at first, and slowly increase the time you’re gone. That will let both of you adjust."

  "Okay," Jamie said, sounding very unhappy. "I suppose I don’t have much choice at this point."

  Late that afternoon, Jamie found her partner diligently working at the computer up in Catherine’s office. "Hi. You’ve been awfully busy this afternoon. Whatcha been doing?"

  "Mmm," Ryan moaned as she stretched languidly. "I answered all of my mail, e-mailed my cousin, wrote real letters to my aunt and my grandparents, then started to sketch out my plans for my independent study." She gave her a sheepish look and added, "I’m doing everything possible to avoid working on my grad school applications."

  Jamie sat down close to the desk and said, "I don’t think there’s a person in the world who likes to fill those out. Is there any way I can help?"

  Ryan sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "No, I don’t think so. I actually finished most of them before the … you know."

  Nodding slightly, Jamie picked up one of the unfinished packets and idly leafed through it. "You’re nearly done, honey. Why not just finish this one up?"

  Taking it from her hand, Ryan went to the part of the application she was having trouble with. "I can’t fill this in," she said, her frustration obvious.

  Jamie looked to where she was pointing and nodded, "That’s a pretty important part, honey. Maybe you should consider if your reticence means something."

  Rolling her eyes dramatically, Ryan said, "Out with it. Say what’s on your mind."

  Reminding herself that Ryan was understandably short-tempered, Jamie ignored her curtness. "If you can’t express why you want to go to medical school, maybe you don’t want to go."

  Looking as though she was trying to curb her anger, Ryan said, "I told you that – in so many words, Jamie. I don’t want to go to medical school. I don’t want to be a physician. But if I want to do genetics research that involves clinical trials, I either have to be a medical doctor, or do my work under the supervision of a medical doctor. I have no intention of having someone else looking over my shoulder through my entire career!"

  Having a feeling that Ryan was overstating the onerous nature of this requirement, Jamie wisely decided not to voice that thought. Instead, she gentled her voice and said, "Do you want to get your Ph.D.?"

  Ryan nodded briefly. "I do."

  "Then why not get your Ph.D. first? You could go to med school after you worked a year or two and got a feeling for how bad it would be to work under the direction of a physician."

  Obviously feeling more than a little intractable, Ryan crossed her arms and shook her head firmly. "No. I know I’d hate having someone supervise me. I’ve talked to plenty of researchers, Jamie, and it’s a common complaint."

  "Well," the blo
nde said, trying to find an acceptable alternative, "you could get your Ph.D. first, and then go to med school, couldn’t you? That way you’d get to have a couple of years doing something you liked."

  Again, the dark head shook. "I don’t want to waste any more time than is absolutely necessary. Doing a joint M.D./PhD. program will save me from having to take quite a few courses. It’s the smarter way to do it."

  Furrowing her brow, Jamie asked, "I’ve never heard you say you want to do work in a setting that would involve clinical trials. I thought you wanted to do basic genetics research."

  "That’s what I think today," she said. "But I might change my mind later on. I want to have a degree that will let me do anything that interests me. It will be a hell of a lot easier to get the credentials now than when we have a bunch of kids."

  Jamie stood and looked at her partner, seeing that the woman was not going to budge from her beliefs – no matter how irrational they seemed to Jamie. "Okay," she sighed. "Then you’d better think of a way to make your reasons for going to med school sound a whole lot more earnest and noble. I don’t think you’ll win many friends on the admissions committee if you say you want to be a doctor just so you don’t have to work for a doctor."

  Surprisingly, Ryan found this funny, and her genuine laugh seemed like music to Jamie’s ears. "That’s what I’ve been struggling with. I’m just not in an ass-kissing mood these days."

  "You’ll get there," Jamie said. "You’re one of the best ass-kissers I’ve ever met."

  "All depends on the ass," Ryan said. "Now tell me about your day. I haven’t seen much of you."

  "I was on the phone," Jamie said as she lay down on the chaise and stretched out. "I spoke with the head of security, then I called my mom – we talked for a long time. Then I spoke with my father, and I called Leslie at the public relations firm."

  "How’s your mom?" Ryan asked, getting to the call she considered the most important.

  "Good," she said thoughtfully. "At least, I think she’s good. She seemed a little down, but it’s hard to tell if it’s because of her own mood, or if she’s just worried about us. I did have to spend quite a while trying to talk her out of coming home early. She’s really upset about all of this."