Monogamy

by Susan X Meagher

  "Okay, I think I’m ready," Ryan announced. "Is my hat straight, Catherine?"

  Moving forward to twitch the bright gold cap a half an inch to the left, Catherine said, "That’s a cute hat. I like the little blue bear paw on the back."

  "I like it, too," Ryan said. "I’m the only one who wears it, though. Everyone else wears visors."

  She said the last word with distaste, causing Jamie’s head to cock in question. "Uhm … how does that make it a uniform? Isn’t uniformity a critical element?"

  "No. We have our choice of cap or visor. I guess I should wear the visor, so I look like everyone else, but the bill on the cap is longer. Keeps the sun out of my eyes better."

  "Well, I’m always in favor of protecting those baby blues, so I vote for the cap," Jamie said.

  "My sentiments exactly," Ryan said, tossing her long braid over her shoulder.

  Working quickly, Jamie managed to take an entire roll of film of Ryan, getting her to pose with both bat and glove. As the tall woman ran to take the field with her team, Jamie looked at her mother and said, "Well, my work here is done. Think she’d notice if we took off?"

  Catherine knew that it would take an act of God to get her daughter to leave before watching Ryan play, so she merely smiled at her and nodded her head in the direction of a game in progress. "Let’s go watch that one while Cal warms up."

  They found spots in the stands and watched for a few minutes, with Catherine’s eyes growing wide as she watched the pitcher for Kent State face a short, slim player from Santa Clara. "How on earth does she make her arm contort in that fashion!" she exclaimed. "That’s not human, Jamie!"

  "I don’t understand it myself," Jamie said. "It looks like your arm would pop out of the socket every time."

  Since Santa Clara was a local team, the stands were filled with many parents and local fans. The atmosphere was fairly casual, with people standing around chatting with each other and catching up with old acquaintances. Catherine observed two sets of parents decked out in Santa Clara gear sitting on folding chairs next to the stands. The fathers were studies in anxiety, looking like they were playing the game – even though they were sitting down. They twitched and grimaced when a particular play didn’t go their way – and neither had any problem with yelling loudly when disappointed.

  The mothers sat between the men, chatting with each other, with hardly one eye on the game. Catherine noticed that each woman paid rapt attention when one of their daughters was at the plate – calling out words of encouragement to the girls – but other than that, they could have been having lunch at an outdoor café.

  "Come on, Kelly! Get your head in the game! You know better than to swing at a ball in the dirt!"

  Catherine gaped at the man closest to her who had hollered out. The girl in question was not his child, and she was astounded that he had the temerity to chide her. Leaning over to speak to Jamie, Catherine said, "The atmosphere is quite odd, don’t you think?"

  "Pardon?"

  "I mean, it looks like these people are all members of some big club, even though they’re fans of different schools. Why would that be?"

  Jamie thought of a conversation she and Ryan had recently had about team sports. "Ryan says that by the time you reach college, most people have been focused on their sport for ten years – kinda like Jordan," she added. "Most of them have very supportive families who get involved; chauffeuring the kid around, raising money for their team. They all belong to a club team, or an AAU team, and are either playing their sport, or preparing themselves to play. It’s very focused for most of them."

  "But it wasn’t like that for Ryan, was it?"

  "Mmm … in a way it was – for soccer; but even with that, she didn’t do all of the clinics and club teams that most people do. Remember, she went to Ireland for most of the summer, so she wasn’t available to do most of that. Plus, playing three other sports didn’t give her much time."

  "I can’t see Martin getting involved like these parents seem to. They look like the outcome of the game is important to them – rather than being happy that their daughter is enjoying herself."

  "Oh, Ryan says she’s seen parents try to hit an umpire who makes a bad call," Jamie revealed, shaking her head in puzzlement. "She says that, for some reason, softball is the sport that parents get most involved in – and get the angriest over."

  Just then, one of the fathers jumped up from his seat and signaled to the young woman named Kelly, motioning her to the end of the dugout. He appeared to be lecturing her, and Catherine shook her head in amazement. "Some of these people need to find their own hobbies."

  "I agree," Jamie said. "Martin and the boys attend the games, as you know, and they care about them, but not like this! Ryan never feels pressure from her family – and I think that’s why she still loves sport so much. It’s just pleasure for her."

  "That’s how she plays, too," Catherine said.

  Regrettably, Ryan didn’t get to experience pleasure, even though they played two games. The day got cooler as the late afternoon game began, and the equipment manager brought out stadium coats for the players to wear when they were on the bench. "There’s a couple of extras lying there," Jamie joked as her teeth chattered. "Think they’d notice if I went down there and grabbed them?"

  "Let’s go inside and have some coffee," Catherine suggested, pointing to the two-story snack bar, located right in the center of the complex. "I think we might be able to see the field from there."

  "I’m gone," Jamie said, scampering down the bleachers, seeking warmth.

  When they settled at one of the Formica-topped tables, Jamie said, "It must be cold, when Ryan puts on a coat. Oh! Doesn’t she look cute?"

  Catherine gazed at the lanky young woman, who now appeared to be at least seven feet tall. The navy blue coat covered her body all the way down to her calves, enhancing the illusion of her endless length. Jamie smiled as the back-up infielder stood next to Ryan at the end of the dugout. Lupe Moreno stood 4 foot 10, and weighed about ninety pounds – with her uniform and coat on. The discrepancy between Ryan’s substantial height and bulk and the diminutive woman was striking, and Jamie thoughtfully pondered what it would be like to be so tall.

  "Jamie, look! Ryan’s taking off her coat. I think she might be going into the game."

  Pulled from her musings, Jamie watched her partner begin to limber up. Thinking about the line-up, she decided that she was probably set to replace the first baseman, Jackie, who had not had a hit all day. It was the bottom of the seventh, and the score was tied. Cal had a player on second base, and one of their best hitters was up. Jamie was almost disappointed when Julie, the catcher, hit a home run on the next pitch, winning the game for the jubilant Cal players, but prohibiting Ryan from taking a turn at bat.

  "I guess I shouldn’t be so selfish – but I want to see my sweetie play!" she groused.

  "With as many games as they have scheduled, I think you’ll get your desire soon enough. Now, let’s go congratulate the victors!"

  After the game, the girls dropped Catherine off in Hillsborough and headed on to Noe, managing to make it in time for dinner with the extended family. They ate at Martin and Maeve’s, and for a change, both Tommy and Annie were off work, and were able to join them. Over dinner, Annie spoke of the near-constant decision making process that she and Tommy were going through about whether to move to Niall’s. "Here’s the worst part," Annie revealed. "Niall can only guarantee that we can stay there for a year. He’s not planning on charging nearly as much as the mortgage and interest are, since the place isn’t fully finished. But once it’s done, he wants to either move in, or charge market rates. He wants to keep working on it during the entire time, too," she said, her displeasure with that arrangement evident.

  "That doesn’t sound like much of a deal," Jamie said.

  "No, but it’s so much nicer than what we have," Annie said. "Getting a big place like that for less than we pay now might be worth the trouble."

  Martin
narrowed his gaze and looked at Conor and Kevin. "Has Niall had tests to see if any of the paint in the house is lead-based?"

  Annie and Tommy exchanged looks, and before anyone else spoke Tommy was already shaking his head in dismay, anticipating the answer. "No, he hasn’t," Conor said. "He doesn’t think there’s lead, but he’s afraid of getting bad news, which he would then have to disclose."

  Martin turned back to Annie, raised one eyebrow, and gave Caitlin a pointed look.

  Annie shrugged and looked at Tommy as she said, "Well, I guess that makes up our mind for us."

  "Don’t let it worry you," Martin insisted. "We’ll find a solution if we all put our heads together."

  "I don’t know, Martin," Annie said, shaking her head. "The dot com boom has hit Noe with a vengeance. I can’t imagine anyone but high-tech millionaires in the neighborhood eventually."

  "Please!" Martin said, lifting his hand. "We’re eating here, love. Wait until my dinner settles before you speak of that blight!"

  At the conclusion of the tournament in San Jose on Saturday, the girls decided to stop at Catherine’s for dinner. They left early, and when they got back to Noe, Niall and Conor were watching the Warriors on TV. Jamie and Ryan kept the lads company for a while, and as usual, the men needed a snack by the time the first half was over. Jamie offered to go make popcorn, and a minute after she entered the kitchen, Niall came in to join her. "Hey, Niall," she said. "What’s going on at the house this weekend?"

  "Ehh … not much," he said. "Now that Tom and Annie aren’t going to take the place, I feel like I ought to stop working on it."

  "You know, I don’t think you need to do half of the stuff you’re doing. Why don’t you stop?"

  He cocked his head and asked, "Truth?"

  "Please."

  "’I can’t see myself living there, Jamie. I mean, if I had a girlfriend who I was serious about …"

  "You’re a long way from that, Niall."

  "Yeah," he said, looking sheepish. "I won’t get married for years, and I don’t wanna live over there by myself. I’ve got my ma to cook for me, she does my laundry for me, and I’ve got my brothers to entertain me when I’m bored. I don’t know what got into me in the first place." He shook his head glumly and added, "Don’t tell anyone, okay?"

  "Our secret," she said solemnly, not bothering to mention that everyone had already guessed why Niall was delaying his move. "But my question remains, Niall. Why keep working on the place if it’s not what you want?"

  "I don’t know," he said. "I guess I keep thinking that I might change my mind again. Besides," he said with a grin, "it’s fun doing the work with everyone. It doesn’t seem like work when we all do it together."

  "You have a point," she said. "Nonetheless, if you don’t want to live there, doesn’t it make sense to sell the place now – before you put any more money into it? I mean, what you’ve done so far is great, Niall, but you’re not going to get your money back from doing much more."

  "Ehh … I guess you’re right," he said. "The mortgage for this place is hurting me bad."

  Ryan came into the kitchen, asking, "What’s hurting you, Niall?"

  "The mortgage," he said. "Jamie and I were talking, and I think maybe I should sell the place."

  "Really? Why now?"

  "Well, Jamie has a good point. I’ve done everything that needs to be done, and from now on I’m not going to do anything more than break even. If I’m gonna sell, I might as well sell now."

  Ryan shrugged and said, "Conor knows some good real estate agents. Ask him for a referral."

  "Okay," Niall said. "I might do that."

  "I think you might be surprised at how much the place is worth, Niall," Ryan said. "Very pleasantly surprised."

  Later that evening, Ryan sat up in bed, her laptop on her raised knees. "Hey, Jamers?" she asked.

  "Yeah?" Jamie was sitting on the loveseat, reading a very dry article on the money supply, and she was grateful for every interruption.

  "How would you like to take a long walk?"

  "Uhm … okay," she said, checking her watch. "It’s a little late, but I’ll do it if you need to."

  "No, no, not now," Ryan said. "I was thinking of July."

  Getting up to sit by her partner, Jamie said, "You’re asking me in January if I want to take a walk in July? What’s up, babe?"

  "I was wondering if you’d be willing to do the Avon Breast Cancer walk with me in July," she said. "I thought this could be a nice substitute for the AIDS Ride. I’m sure we’re both in good enough shape to be able to do it without too much training – and I’d really like to show my support for the fight against breast cancer."

  "That’s San Jose to San Francisco, right?" the smaller woman asked.

  "Yeah. There’s one in LA in October, and that would be the one I’d prefer, but I don’t know what we’ll be doing in October. I’m pretty sure we’ll be in town in July."

  "You’re on, baby," Jamie said. "Sign me up!"

  Ryan beamed a grin at her and hit "send". "All done. I had a feeling you’d agree."

  "You know me well – and that’s just how I like it." She got up and walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge and stroking Ryan’s cheek for a moment. "I’m proud of you," she said, gazing into her eyes. "I know what a sacrifice it is for you to give up the Ride, and I’m so pleased that you’re thinking of your health and your enjoyment – rather than only your commitment. I know how hard this is for you, Ryan. Thank you."

  Ryan smiled sadly, putting her arms around her partner and pulling her close. "I can’t only think of myself any longer," she said. "We’re partners, Jamie, and the decisions I make affect you, too. It’s been hard for me to start thinking like your partner, but I’m gonna try my best to do so from now on. I know how important it is."

  "You’re the best partner in the world," Jamie whispered, nuzzling her face against Ryan’s neck. "I’m a lucky, lucky woman."

  "I think we’re both pretty lucky," Ryan said, "and participating in the Breast Cancer Walk is one way of showing support for women who aren’t as lucky as we are."

  When she rang the bell to Ally’s apartment on Saturday night, Sara felt the same butterflies in her stomach that beset her every time she was anticipating seeing her friend. It wasn’t fear, or nervousness – it was just a heightened sense of expectation that kept her a little off-kilter.

  Ally buzzed her up, and when she reached the apartment, she stood, rather awkwardly, gazing at her shyly. "I uhm … never quite know how to greet you."

  "Really?" Ally moved closer and tilted her head a little. "Why’s that?"

  "Well … we’re clearly at the point of giving each other a kiss … but you told me that you like to be the one to make the first move. I don’t want to invade your space if I might make you uncomfortable."

  Ally draped her arms across Sara’s shoulders and leaned over until their foreheads touched. "You’ve got such a sweet heart." Straightening up, she said, "Giving me a kiss when we meet is no big deal. It’s the ‘let’s kiss with salacious intent’ kiss that I have trouble accepting."

  "Great. I can deal with that." She reached up and pulled Ally close, kissing her cheek quickly. "Hi. I missed you."

  "I missed you, too," Ally said, looking down at the floor with that mixture of shyness and sexiness that Sara found absolutely irresistible. "Uhm … is there anything you want to do? Or would you like to hang out and talk?"

  "Let’s talk. That’s what I miss when we’re apart."

  They sat on the sofa together, both a little shy. "Uhm … how did it go for you when you stayed over?" Sara began.

  "It went well … very well, as a matter of fact. I’m not usually that able to open up and let someone get that close. I thought it was a very, very good sign. My psyche trusts you."

  They talked for a long while, with Sara filling her in on her week at work, and Ally telling her about a few clients she was working with. As the evening wore on, the pair began to draw ever-so-slightly closer, u
ntil they were right next to each other.

  Sara blinked up at her, looking into Ally’s gray eyes. "Uhm … you said earlier that you didn’t mind my giving you a quick kiss. How should I let you know I’d like one of those other kinds … you know … the salacious ones," she said, adding a sexy grin.

  "Well, gosh, I’m not sure …" Ally looked a little nonplussed, obviously not used to having this question come up.

  "Why don’t I give you a signal, and you can decide whether you’re able to comply." Sara scooted closer, and closed her eyes, then tipped her head back, letting her lips part gently. "Does this give you the thought that I might want one of those … naughty kisses?"

  Ally let her eyes roam all over the lovely face – taking in the smooth, soft skin and gentle features. "Uhm … yep. I think that’s a sign that most people with a pulse would pick up on."

  "Now, you don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to," Sara said, her eyes still closed, her lips glossy in the dim light. "I want you to know that I’m very, very interested in kissing …"

  Her speech was cut off abruptly by the pair of warm lips that covered her own. Then a moist, determined tongue slipped into her mouth, making her purr with pleasure. Ally kissed her slowly, thoroughly, investigating and probing. The heat between them had been growing all night long, and by now it was nearly combustible. Sara wrapped her arms around her friend and started to explore the taut muscles her fingers encountered, but slowly, Ally began to force her onto her back. Soon, she was lying on the couch, much of Ally’s body lying atop hers, both of her hands held at the wrists in an iron grip.

  Sara was swooning at the sensation of being rendered so totally under the larger woman’s control, via nothing more than Ally’s powerful body and one strong hand. All she could do was open her mouth to the relentless exploration, but that was all she had a mind to do at the moment, and she doubted that her plans were going to change in the near future. Ally was fulfilling every fantasy that she didn’t know she’d had, and Sara let herself luxuriate in the experience.