Monogamy

by Susan X Meagher

  "I’m very, very glad that I came. This makes up for any minor inconveniences," she insisted, taking a delicate nibble of Jordan’s neck. They cuddled for a while longer, with Mia trying to think of a way to bring up the topic of school. Finally decided to get it out of the way, she said, "Uhm … honey? I’ve made a decision about school."

  "Huh?" Jordan asked slowly, neck nibbling always serving to both relax and distract her.

  "I’ve decided to postpone school for a year. I cleared it with Stanford, and I’ve already told my parents. Now, all we have to do is figure out what I can do in Colorado for a year."

  Jordan pulled back as far as she could and stared up at Mia with a stunned look. "You’re doing this for me?"

  "Well, yeah," she purred, playing with her hair. "For you and me."

  "Oh, Mia, I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you, but I’m so glad that you’re mine."

  "You don’t have to earn my love. I give it to you freely. And the day after I graduate, I’m gonna be on your doorstep."

  "That’s a day that will live on in my memory," the blonde sighed, holding Mia in a bone-bruising hug.

  When dinner arrived, they extracted themselves from their loving embrace and directed the server to set up outdoors. Even though they were relatively close to the ocean, there was no wind in their protected enclave, and the private patio was surprisingly warm. Mia hadn’t been quite so immoderate in her menu choices, sticking to some grilled salmon, new potatoes and a field greens salad. They shared a little, but Mia had to act fast to snare a bit of the pasta over Jordan’s low growl. "Oh … territorial, are we?" she said seductively. "I want to hear that growl later."

  "Fill my tummy up, and I’ll growl at you all night long," Jordan boasted. "No problem."

  Mia scoffed at her bravado. "You’ll be asleep while you’re still twitching from your climax."

  "Mmm … I like the sound of that," Jordan said. "You make even the word climax sound sexy."

  Tossing her curly locks, Mia grinned and said, "I do what I can."

  "You do a lot for … and to … me," Jordan said, leaning in close for a kiss. She was obviously still very hungry, since she pulled away after only one and dove back into her dinner. Mia was finished, so she leaned back in her chair and gazed at her partner lovingly, never taking her eyes off of her until the blonde head lifted and Jordan leaned back in her chair, finally sated. "Damn, that was fine."

  "It’s even fascinating to watch you eat," Mia said, reaching across the table to grip her hand. "I love every little thing about you."

  Suddenly serious, Jordan gazed at her intently and said, "I feel the same way about you." She dropped her head slightly and admitted, "It feels wrong to hide how I feel about you. While I stood around yesterday and today, I … uhm … had some time to think, and I decided that I’m going to tell my parents about us."

  Mia nearly slid from her chair at this news. Jordan had never given the slightest hint that she was considering this, and she was frankly amazed. "Is that wise, baby? I mean, have you thought about this carefully?"

  "Of course," she said quietly. "What do you think those two weekly 45 minute calls to my therapist are all about? We’ve talked about this until I’m sick of it!" She got up and fluffed her hair a bit, tossing it over her shoulders. "How can I tell you how much you mean to me when I’m afraid to talk to my parents about you?" She approached Mia’s chair and placed her hands on the arms, tugging at the piece until they were facing each other. Squatting down in front of the shivering woman, she gazed at her with an earnest expression and said, "You mean so much more to me than anyone in my family. Denying my love for you is wrong, Mia. I can’t do it any more. Yours is the only opinion that matters. I love you with all my heart, and I want everyone to know it."

  "Oh, Jordan, that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me." She wrapped her arms around her neck and held on tight, rising with the taller woman as she got to her feet. Jordan swooped her up in her arms and carried her to the canopy bed, settled her gently, and then climbed in next to her.

  "Let me show you how much I love you," she whispered. "Let me worship you."

  Mia answered by grasping her firmly and pulling her atop her body, nearly smothering her with emotion-laden kisses that grew in intensity and passion until they were lost to the love that burned in both of their souls.

  Even though she was fully awake, Mia tried hard not to move a muscle. She was lying on her left side, and Jordan was pressed up against her back. One long arm was tucked across her chest, and Jordan’s long, delicate hand gently held her left breast. The thought occurred to Mia that she could contentedly stay in this position for the better part of the day. She knew that Jordan could feel her steady pulse beating against her palm, and she thought, with a small amount of satisfaction, that the rhythmic beat was likely serving to allow her to relax enough to stay asleep long past her normal waking time. Of course, I might just have sapped all of her energy last night, she chuckled to herself.

  Considering the evening, she had to admit that something had changed between them. Some hard-to-define barrier had been breached – freeing them to be more open with each other than ever before.

  Mia had greatly enjoyed their physical connection from the start, and she was pleased to acknowledge that they seemed to get a little closer with each coupling. But the previous night was qualitatively different from any other time. She shifted a little and placed a gentle kiss on Jordan’s hand, unable to resist tasting her skin. Last night we became partners, she realized. It’s not her and me any longer; it’s us.

  This realization made her feel nearly giddy, and she snuggled down even deeper into Jordan’s loose embrace. It was scary and puzzling, and actually made her stomach hurt a little when she considered all of the complications their relationship would bring to their lives. But, to her amazement, the practical, problematic issues paled in comparison to the utter joy she felt to love and be loved by Jordan. Being with her is worth anything we have to face. Lying in that elegant bed, in that luxurious room, she knew that they had turned a corner – and she hoped with everything that she had that there was no turning back.

  After spending two restful days with her mother, Jamie woke up early on Sunday and got in the shower. When she emerged, her mom popped her head into the bedroom and said, "Going to church, honey?"

  "Yeah, I told Annie earlier in the week that I’d take Cait. Would you like to go with me?"

  "Sure. That’d be fun. Are we taking her to Ryan’s church?"

  "Let’s be bold," Jamie said. "The Episcopal service starts an hour after the Catholic one. We can take our time and see Poppa in the bargain." Jamie put in a call to Annie to tell her of her plans, and the good-natured woman gave her permission to take Caitlin to whichever church she chose, she merely requested that Jamie not shave her head or dress her in a saffron robe.

  The blonde was chuckling at Caitlin’s incessant babbling while she parked the car in the driveway of her grandfather’s small house, one more perk of being related to the priest. "Have you been coming to church again, Mom?"

  "No, actually this is my first time in years. I need all of the centering I can get my hands on these days, and I thought this might help."

  Jamie nodded sympathetically, and watched as her mother unbuckled the toddler from the car seat. "I’m not sure how much focus you can maintain with your biggest fan hanging off of you, though."

  Catherine gave the child a kiss on the crown of her head and said, "Having a sweet soul like this on my lap gives me more evidence of the presence of God than any part of the service."

  They went into the church and found seats in a pew on the far side of the church – hoping to disturb as few of the parishioners as possible. Scooting close, Jamie rested her head on her mother’s shoulder and let her mere presence soothe her. Caitlin flopped down on Catherine’s lap, then slid off – wedging her small body between the two women. The child pressed her head against Catherine’s breast, grasping Jamie
’s hand as she did so. Mother and daughter exchanged warm looks, and Jamie noticed a few tears slipping down Catherine’s cheek. "You’re gonna be the world’s best grandmother," the younger woman said. "Not a doubt in my mind."

  They decided to all have lunch together, and after Charles finished chatting with his parishioners, they set off for brunch at the Mark Hopkins Hotel, Caitlin happily in tow.

  "So tell me how the training for your big walk is going?" Charles asked Catherine as they climbed one of the steep streets of Nob hill.

  "Well, given that I can make it up these hills with no problem, I’d say it’s going well," Catherine said. "I’m honestly in better shape than I was when I was Jamie’s age, and it feels marvelous."

  Charles spared a glance at his daughter-in-law and decided that Catherine looked happier than he had seen her since Jamie was a baby. "I think it’s a grand thing that you’re all doing," he said. "And it will be a nice way to spend some time together."

  "Yes, I figure that we’ll chatter away the whole time," Catherine said. "None of us are tight-lipped, as you know."

  "That was the worst thing about the AIDS Ride," Jamie said. "There were hours a day when I was too winded to speak. It was torture!"

  "The pace I’m going to keep will allow you to have a running dialogue – if you choose to hang back with Maeve and me."

  "That’s our whole purpose in doing this, Mom. It’s a bonding experience for both of us and our moms, as well as a way to make a statement about how breast cancer has affected all of us."

  Catherine reached down and grasped her daughter’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I’m really looking forward to this, Jamie. I think it will be a wonderful experience for all of us. I only wish Caitlin could go."

  "I pray that there’s no need for the walk by the time she’s old enough to join us," Jamie said. "It would be so wonderful if the babies being born now would never have to worry about breast cancer."

  "Wonderful indeed," Catherine said, sighing wistfully.

  Over brunch, Charles asked, "So, tell us about this golf trip, Jamie."

  "It’s our first spring tournament, Poppa, and it’s being held over in Vallejo. Normally, we’d drive up for the day, but Scott decided this would be a good opportunity to do a little team building. So, we’re meeting over at Cal at 2, and heading up."

  "Do you like the girls on your team, honey?" he asked.

  "Yeah, I like them well enough – what I know of them, that is. They’re a very serious, fairly monosyllabic group. For the most part, most of the players live for golf, and, as you know, that’s never been my attitude."

  "Well, if anyone can liven things up a little, you’re the woman for the job," Charlie said, giving his granddaughter a fond smile.

  Jordan was more nervous than Mia had ever seen her, and she desperately wished she could help calm her down. But there was little she could do. The blonde was not in the mood to talk; her responses almost monosyllabic since her conversation with her mother. Mia wanted to go to Jordan’s house for the discussion, but the older woman wanted to come to their hotel, instead. Jordan had muttered something about "sponging a free meal" when she had hung up, and that was all that had been said since.

  She was expected at any minute, but Mia caught the taller woman in a loose embrace, stopping her as she went to change her clothes for the third time. "Honey, you look wonderful. Please don’t spend the rest of our alone time running around like a mad woman."

  Jordan started to defend herself, but she let those warm brown eyes draw her in, and almost immediately she could feel her racing heart start to calm. "Okay." It was a small concession, but one that Mia was very thankful for.

  "No matter what happens, nothing will be very different at the end of the day," she soothed. "You don’t rely on your mother for any type of support – physical, emotional or monetary. She can’t take anything away from you, because she doesn’t give you anything." Mia knew that her words were harsh, but they were true; and she wanted Jordan to be able to look at the reality of the situation.

  To her surprise, Jordan nodded her head firmly. "I know that," she said, her voice filled with emotion. The bright blue eyes were clouded with pain as she whispered, "But she still hurts me. She hurts me so much that sometimes it feels like I’ll die."

  Mia wrapped her arms tightly around her shaking body and hugged her with all of her might. This was the most revealing thing Jordan had ever said about her relationship with her mother, and a large part of Mia wished she hadn’t revealed her pain. But knowing and loving Jordan meant understanding her most broken self – no matter how hard these things were to hear. "I know it’s hard," Mia whispered, "but I’m here for you, sweetheart. We’ll get through this together."

  A light knock on the door made her stomach flip, and she felt Jordan’s entire body go rigid. "It will be all right," Mia said, her voice reflecting a confidence she didn’t feel.

  The blonde nodded briefly, squeezed her hand, and strode across the room to open the door. A tall, thin, elegant-looking woman breezed in, giving Mia a raised eyebrow as she entered.

  "Mom, this is Mia Christopher. Mia, this is my mother, Daniella."

  Daniella turned to her daughter and grasped her lightly by the shoulders. She gazed at her for a moment, then pulled her close and placed a kiss on both of her cheeks. Releasing her, she turned to Mia and graced her with a wide, confident smile. "It’s good to meet you, Mia," she said. "Are you … here for the modeling assignment?" It was fairly clear that the young woman wasn’t a model, even though she was attractive. But women under 5’8" did not appear in Ralph Lauren ads, of that, Daniella was certain.

  "No, no," she replied, trying to make her smile appear genuine. "I’m here with Jordan. We’re friends from Berkeley."

  "Oh! Well that’s very thoughtful of you to come down only to see Jordan," the older woman said.

  What an odd thing to say, Mia thought, but forced herself to smile enigmatically.

  "Are you ready to eat, Mom?" Jordan asked. "I’ve made reservations on the terrace."

  "Yes, I’m famished. Shall we?"

  Daniella led the way, her determined stride indicating her familiarity with the property. Mia hung back a bit and watched her walk, seeing so many similarities to Jordan that she was a bit stunned. Their gait was identical – smooth, long strides that ate up space, but gave the illusion that they were gliding, rather than walking. Their hips twitched in exactly the same way – barely enough to hint at the curves hidden beneath their clothes. The thought flashed through Mia’s head that if Jordan looked exactly like her mother in twenty-five years she wouldn’t have a complaint in the world. She can look just like you, Daniella, but if she starts acting like you, I’ll have to kill her to put her out of her misery.

  They were seated at a table under a wisteria-covered pergola, discreetly hidden heat lamps providing enough warmth to take the chill off. They ordered their meal, with Daniella making noises about how nice it was to be young and able to eat whatever one wished. Mia tried to act friendly and show some of her natural warmth, but she let Jordan take the lead.

  The older woman unobtrusively eyed every other table on the terrace, and Mia let her eyes wander too. "Jordan," she whispered excitedly, after spying one of the stars of her favorite show, "isn’t that Sara Michelle Gellar?"

  "Yeah, it is," Jordan said, a fond look settling onto her face at Mia’s excitement.

  Daniella turned and gave the young woman at the distant table a long look, then raised an eyebrow at her daughter. "She’s nobody," Jordan said, indicating that Sara was no one that her mother should know. Gazing again at Mia, she added, "But, we like her."

  They passed an hour chatting about nothing in particular while they ate their meal. Daniella seemed polite and pleasant enough, but she didn’t have one question for Mia, and didn’t seem curious about her in the least. When Jordan and her mother were engaged in conversation, Mia took every opportunity to observe how they interacted, and it wasn’t good. J
ordan was as guarded and wary around the woman as Mia had ever seen her. She was able to carry on her half of the conversation, but there was no spark at all, not even a hint of a familial relationship between these two remarkably similar-looking women. It reminded Mia of how Jordan would be during a job interview – for a job that she knew she was not going to get.

  The longer Mia stared at the pair the more she realized that there were a few very small differences that played a very large role in differentiating the pair. They had similar coloring, their hair was the same shade and their eyes were carbon copies of each other. Jordan definitely had her mother’s nose, and their high, distinct cheekbones were the same, too. But Jordan was blessed with full, rose-colored lips, one of her most sensually appealing qualities to Mia’s appreciative eyes. Daniella, on the other hand, had thin lips that she tried to make appear fuller via a careful application of lip liner and gloss. And even though their eyes were the same color, there was a warmth and a playfulness behind Jordan’s that Mia was always cognizant of – even if others couldn’t see it. But, Daniella’s eyes went from disinterested to frosty to ice cold; with no indication of any warmth or compassion hidden within.

  As Mia continued to avail herself of every opportunity to study the woman, she also noticed that Daniella’s smile appeared composed and studied, whereas Jordan’s burst onto her face like a bright light being switched on in a dim room. Even though the smile was absent today, Mia reflected that she saw that fantastic smile more and more these days, as Jordan grew more comfortable sharing her inner self.

  She was so lost in her musings that she was startled when she felt a warm hand moving about in her lap. Catching Jordan’s hand in her own, she gave it a squeeze and waited expectantly when she saw the blonde gather herself and clear her throat.

  "Mom," she began, her voice steady, but higher than normal, "I wanted to do more than introduce you to Mia today." Her hand began to grip tighter, and Mia held on tight, waiting for the bomb to drop. Daniella inclined her head, her short, layered blonde hair moving gently with the gesture. "I want you to know what she means to me."