She hung up and smiled at her partner. "That was my dad. He’s in town until Monday, so we’re going to get together on Sunday. He specifically asked if you’d be able to join us."
"That’s nice. I think I’ve finally made some progress with him, Jamers."
"I think you have, too. So, do you want to play golf?"
"Mmm … no, I don’t want to. But if you want me to go with you, I will."
"No, this is voluntary. If you’re not into it, you don’t have to. I’ll see if Mia wants to go. Maybe she and her dad can join us."
"I think I’d enjoy helping out over at Niall’s this weekend. Some physical labor sounds like just the ticket."
"Do you uhm … want to talk about your afternoon? I don’t want to pry, but …"
"I went to confession," Ryan said, sitting down on the bed and gazing at her partner with an unreadable expression on her face.
"Confession? Have you ever done that … I mean since we’ve been together?"
"No. I used to go every week, but I got out of the habit when I started having sex. It seemed silly to go confess a sin that you had every intention of committing again, the first chance you got," she said.
"What made you go today?"
"I’m looking for solace, babe. I’m trying every possible avenue."
Sitting next to her on the bed, Jamie asked, "Did it help, sweetie?"
Ryan laughed gently and said, "You know, it really did. Father Pender reminded me that God would forgive me if I’d killed the guy in cold blood – so long as I was truly sorry for my actions. It seems silly, but he really reassured me, Jamie. He put his hands on my head and prayed over me." She gave her partner a shy, childlike grin and said, "I feel lighter somehow."
"I’m so glad," Jamie sighed.
"We had a nice time together," Ryan said. "I was the only person to show up for confession, so we talked for the entire hour. He wasn’t able to help much at getting me to let go of my anger at the unnamed traitors, but it was a start. He locked up when we were finished, and we went over to The Dubliner for a pint. Just like old times."
"You were afraid to tell your Da, huh?"
"Mmm … not afraid, but I didn’t want to bring up a sore subject. He doesn’t want to have a relationship with Father Pender, but I do. We don’t have to agree on everything."
"I’m glad you got what you needed from talking to him. Now, how about that walk. Duffy tells me you promised him one."
"That dog never could keep a secret," Ryan said, taking her partner’s hand.
"Kisses?" Jamie asked, drawing her arms around Ryan’s warm body when the larger woman crawled into bed that night.
"Sure," she said. "Kisses are just the thing to help me sleep."
Ryan rolled onto her back and cuddled Jamie to her chest. "Kiss away, sweet lips."
"Okay … I think I can live up to that title." She snuggled close and started to kiss Ryan gently, putting just a little heat into her caress. For the first time since they had returned from the Bahamas, Ryan’s mouth slowly opened during the kiss, and Jamie slipped her tongue inside. A tiny, soft moan escaped from the pink lips, and Jamie went a little further, and let her breasts press firmly against her partner’s.
They continued to kiss and suck on each other’s tongues, slowly increasing the passion until Jamie’s breathing became erratic. Panting softly, Ryan pulled away, and lay her head down on her pillow. Not wanting to lose the connection, Jamie rested her head upon her partner’s breast, pleased to feel the rapid heartbeat. "I can still make your heart race," the blonde sighed, very pleased by her lover’s reaction to her kisses.
"Sure can," Ryan said, relieved that they’d stopped when they had. She knew that some of her excitement was desire, but that another element was fear. She kissed the top of Jamie’s head, and they both relaxed together for a long while. When Jamie was just about asleep, she rolled onto her side, and Ryan followed her, pressing her body against her back.
In moments, Jamie’s breathing evened out, and she fell into her usual state of near-unconsciousness. But Ryan wasn’t able to relax, even with her partner’s soothing presence so close to her. The heat of their kisses had turned her on more than she was willing to admit to Jamie, and now the insistent throbbing between her legs was keeping her from relaxing.
Fighting the guilt that lurked just under the surface, she slipped her hand between her legs and touched herself, the reassuring feel of her own fingers soothing her wounded psyche. Thoroughly relieved that Jamie was such a sound sleeper, she explored herself in painstaking detail, letting her experienced fingers glide over all of her most sensitive spots. As much as she loved her partner’s touch, there was something wonderfully reassuring and familiar about touching herself, and she did her best to allow her body to fully relax and enjoy the sensation. She held off for as long as she could, trying to wring the most pleasure possible out of the experience. Gasping sharply, she came unexpectedly, her toes curling as the rush hit her. She felt so sated and calm that she started to nod off immediately, her wrinkling fingers pressed into her still-pulsing tissues.
On Saturday morning Jamie came upstairs to find Ryan and Conor at the breakfast table. "What are you two up to today?" she asked.
"I’d like to play golf," Conor said. "Any interest, Jamie?"
"Mmm … I’m always up for a round. Ryan?"
"If I have to," she said, shrugging her shoulders.
"It’s not a sentence, it’s a game," Jamie said. "What would you rather do?"
"Ride my bike. I need to get some miles in today."
"Okay, Conor. You’re on. Let me call the club and see when they can fit us in."
She went to the phone and dialed the number, while Conor looked at his sister. "You’re really gonna do the AIDS Ride, huh?"
"Yep."
"Is that a wise thing to do, Ryan?"
"Nope." She stood up and cleared the table, placing the dishes in the sink. Without another word she went down to her room to put her biking clothes on.
Just on the other side of Colma, Ryan got on her cell and called her mother-in-law. "Hey, Catherine," she said in greeting. "Would you like to have lunch today?"
"Of course, dear. I don’t have any plans for the afternoon. Where would you like to go?"
"Uhm … your house. I’m out riding my bike, and I’d like to have a break. My butt is killing me!"
"Oh, Ryan, that’s such a long way to come. Let me come to you."
"No, no, I can make it. I’ll see you in an hour … or two. I’ve forgotten how long it takes to get down there. Wish me luck."
"Good luck, honey, and be safe!"
Ryan arrived just after 1, her body covered with sweat, a bit of road grime on her flushed cheeks. "Damn! Have they moved Hillsborough a few dozen miles down the 101?"
"You look exhausted, dear! Come on in and cool off." Ryan entered, then immediately took off her shoes so she didn’t scuff the floors. Catherine took a long look at her and asked, "You didn’t bring any other clothes, did you?"
"Nope. I really didn’t think I’d get this wet. It’s warmer than I thought it would be."
"Go in the kitchen and get a drink, honey. I’ll get you something to put on. Jamie will never forgive me if I let you catch a cold."
Ryan gave her a slightly aggrieved look, then obediently went into the kitchen, where Marta gave her a tall drink and a long lecture. Catherine returned, holding a light blue dress shirt and a pair of navy blue boxer shorts. "Nothing of mine will fit you, honey, so I brought one of Jim’s shirts. I bought some boxers for him when I was in Italy, but I haven’t seen him to give them to him. This is the only kind he’ll wear, and they don’t do mail order, so I always stock up for him when I visit."
She handed Ryan the shorts, and the dark woman gave her a broad smile. "Silk? These are the softest things I’ve ever felt."
"It’s a silk and cotton blend, so they’re machine washable. I know you and Jamie like to wear boxers around the house, so you just keep those."<
br />
"No argument," Ryan said. She went into the nearby bath to put on the clothes, and emerged a few minutes later. Marta snatched her biking clothes out of her hand so quickly that she didn’t have a moment to react. "Marta! Those clothes are disgusting! I can just toss ‘em in the dryer for a few minutes."
"No, no, no. The sweat will irritate your skin. I’ll wash them for you." She was reading the laundry care tag in the shorts as she walked away, leaving Ryan to shrug her shoulders and take a seat at the table.
"Would you like to take a shower, honey? I’m sure your muscles are stiff."
"No, I’ll be fine. It’s going to take me a little longer than I had planned to get back into riding shape. I’ve never gone this long without logging some saddle time."
"This is terribly important to you, isn’t it, dear?"
"Yeah. I won’t miss the ride, Catherine. I can’t."
"Oh, I wasn’t trying to talk you out of doing it, Ryan. Far be it from me to attempt that."
She smiled slightly and said, "I hate to be so hard-headed about things. I know this isn’t wise, but it means more to me than I can put into words. It gives me a full week to think of my cousin and remember all of the good times we had together. He deserves at least a week of my time, Catherine. He meant so much to me."
"I know, sweetheart," she sighed. "I only wish that you didn’t have to torture yourself to get in shape to do the ride. That’s going to tax you severely, and you don’t have many reserves."
"I know. But I can’t worry about that. I’m going to do my best to get ready, and then do the ride as best I can. Jamie doesn’t believe that I’ll ride in the support van if I need to, but I will," she said, looking into Catherine’s eyes. "I’ve learned that it doesn’t matter how you overcome obstacles, the mere fact that you overcome them is enough."
"That’s the spirit, Ryan," the older woman said.
Marta came back into the room, bent over and kissed Ryan’s dark head. "What can I make to tempt you, Ryan?"
"Oh, just about anything, Marta. I’m not very picky."
Catherine recalled the lunch she’d had with the girls recently, and wondered if she was going to have to feed the lanky young woman just like her daughter had. Shrugging her shoulders, she decided that she was up to the task, if duty called.
After lunch, which Ryan managed to eat all on her own, they went out to the patio and sat by the pool. "Could I prevail upon you for a bit of advice, Ryan?"
"Sure." She sat up a little and looked at Catherine attentively.
"I received a letter from Jamie’s former nanny the other day. I don’t like to keep things from Jamie, but I know that she’d be hurt by it, and I hate to do that."
Ryan scowled and said, "Given what she’s told me about Elizabeth, I can only imagine the content."
"She’s very old fashioned," Catherine said. "Flexibility isn’t part of her makeup. She’s antagonistic to nearly every bit of progress since the Second World War."
"Sounds like my granny," Ryan said. "So, what did this missive say?"
"It was quite odd, to be honest. I started to think that Elizabeth might be going a little senile, but other parts of the letter made her seem just as sharp as ever." She sighed and said, "She wrote to apologize for any role she might have played in Jamie’s downfall." Shaking her head she continued, "She theorized that faulty genes might have played a role, but she was quite adamant that environment had to be at least partially responsible. She didn’t seem quite sure of what she should have done differently, but she mentioned that she should have probably used corporal punishment on her. Her reasoning seems to be that Jamie was brought up in such a permissive way that she feels free to indulge in her darker urges."
"If you add a few references to Jesus dying for our sins, my grandmother could have written that," Ryan said, shaking her head in dismay. She shrugged her shoulders and said, "I agree that it will hurt Jamie’s feelings to read that, but she really hates it when things are kept from her. Why don’t you tell her you got it and briefly synopsize it. Just tell her that, as expected, Elizabeth was unhappy to read that Jamie was a lesbian."
"That’s a good idea, dear," Catherine said. "I’ll burn the damn thing so she can’t read it even if she asks to."
"It hurts me when my grandmother is so judgmental," Ryan said. "I know it’s just her upbringing, but it still hurts."
"I can imagine that it does." She patted Ryan’s hand and asked, "But you still love her, don’t you."
"Of course. She’s had a tough life, Catherine. She grew up dirt poor, with an abusive father. The Church was the inviolate authority when she was growing up, and it provided a vision of eternal happiness so long as one toed the line. I can only imagine how appealing that was for a woman like my granny. She only made it through sixth grade, so she didn’t ever have the opportunity to really examine the teachings of the Church on her own from an intellectual standpoint. She never learned critical thinking skills. She followed the law to the letter, but given her situation it makes perfect sense."
"I suppose it does," Catherine said.
"She also believed that punishing a child could take some of the evil out of her. I suffered more than my share of beatings, but Granny still thought I had too much starch in my sails."
"Oh, Ryan, I didn’t know," Catherine said, reaching out to cover her hand. "I … I’m speechless …"
"It’s okay," she said softly. "I went through a short period where I thought that I deserved to be beaten, but it didn’t last too long." She pursed her lips and said, "Kid’s minds are very funny. You can’t understand that your elders are acting irrationally, so you have to believe that you’re the problem. I used to feel kinda … purged, when she’d spank me – like she’d taken some of the evil out."
Catherine closed her eyes, looking like she was on the verge of tears.
"Really, Catherine, it’s okay," Ryan said. "My aunt Moira found out what was happening, and she got involved. It was a good lesson in a funny way. It made me realize that adults make mistakes, too, and that there are some people in your life who you can always depend on." She smiled gently and said, "Aunt Moira’s never let me down."
"Have you heard from your grandparents since the carjacking?" Catherine asked, not sure if Ryan had revealed her lesbianism to the elderly couple.
"Yeah. I think she was proud of me for what I did, but she reminded me that if I hadn’t led such a sinful life there wouldn’t be anything scandalous for the newspapers to print." She gave Catherine a sly grin and added, "Jamie got the condensed version of that one, too."
"Good Lord!"
"Yeah, she never misses an opportunity to point out the error of everyone else’s ways. Jamie really wants to go visit Ireland this summer, but I know the experience will be mixed, at best. I’d hate to have my little protector deck my Granny."
"You can return the favor," Catherine said. "Jamie would never be that close to England and fail to visit Elizabeth."
"Oh, boy! An elder abuse tour!"
Catherine laughed heartily, then patted Ryan’s shoulder. "You’ll get through it. You two have been through worse."
"Now, that’s the truth," Ryan said. "And I should be able to use that line for years to come."
They whiled away most of the afternoon, and at 3 o’clock Catherine said, "Why don’t you let me give you a ride home, sweetheart? I’m afraid it will be dark by the time you reach San Francisco."
Ryan scrunched up her face and thought for a moment, then she nodded decisively. "My instinct is to ride home," she said, "but I’m going to deny my instinct this time. I’m tired, my butt hurts, and it probably will be dark by the time I get home." Her expression turned a little sad when she said, "I have to be more careful. The carjacking showed me just how fragile life is. I have to remind myself every day how much Jamie loves me and how much she needs me. I can’t afford to be so cavalier about how I behave."
"That’s a hard lesson to learn, isn’t it, honey?" Catherine asked gently.
"I do, too," Catherine said. "Do you want to go now?"
"Sure. Stay for dinner?"
"Oh, I wish I could, but I have an event tonight."
"Let me have Conor come pick me up then. You don’t want to spend your afternoon driving me around."
"Yes I do. Besides, I want to see my girl for a few minutes. I want to spend every minute with her that I can."
"You and I think alike, Catherine. Let’s rock."
Walking home from church on Sunday morning, Ryan held Jamie’s hand snugly in her own. "I’m gonna miss you today," she said, giving her a shy smile.
"Are you disappointed that I’m going without you?"
"No, not disappointed. I’m sure I’ll have a better time hanging with the boys. Construction work suits me so much better than playing golf. I just wish you were going to be with me."
Jamie smiled up at her and reached around to hold onto her arm tightly. "This is one small area of our lives that I think we have to agree to disagree on. I don’t mind helping once in a while, but it doesn’t bring me joy."
"You’re entitled to a few flaws," Ryan said. "The fact that you like to stay clean is a quirk that I’ve learned to live with." She leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "I just hope our children don’t inherit your clean gene."
"Watch it, dirt devil. We clean people have our pride, ya know."
"Your dad won’t be offended that I didn’t want to come, will he?"
"No. He knows you’re not a golf nut. He doesn’t understand it," she said, "but he knows it."
Lifeline Page 44
