Monogamy

by Susan X Meagher

  "Then I’m happy for you," he said. "Uhm … did you recently figure out that you liked women, honey? Or have you been hiding your … desires?"

  "Mmm … a little of both, Dad. But, to be honest, I’m glad that I waited for Mia. I want her to be the only lover I ever have."

  Jorgen started to laugh, unable to control himself. "Oh, Jor, that’s such an adorable wish. Sometimes I forget how young and earnest you truly are. It’s delightful."

  Sighing, she said, "Dad, I know that you haven’t had very good luck at having a long-lasting relationship, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t."

  "No, of course it doesn’t, honey. I wish we could get together, but I promise that next time will be different. Tell Mia that I extend my warm welcome into the family."

  "I will, Dad. Thanks," she said. "Thanks a lot."

  "Uhm … did you get a chance to talk to your mother about that little issue we discussed, honey?"

  "Yeah … yeah, I did. I can’t guarantee anything, but I think there’s a chance she’ll be a little more reasonable this time, Dad."

  "Really?" he asked, his voice filled with glee. "Thanks so much, Jor. You don’t know how much it means to me to always be able to rely on you."

  "I can only imagine," she said, her voice breaking on the last word.

  "Hey, now, don’t get all sentimental on me," he said, chuckling softly. "Go give your girl a big kiss for me, okay? I can’t wait to meet her."

  "I will," she said, the tears flowing down her cheeks. "Bye."

  Placing the receiver back into its cradle, Jordan gently patted Mia’s butt. The smaller woman got to her feet, and automatically wrapped her arms around her partner and held her as tightly as she could. Leading Jordan back to the bed, they lay together with the shaking woman sobbing as though she’d lost something vital to her existence. Jordan didn’t say a word, and Mia knew it was futile to ask her to talk. So she held her and rocked her and soothed her as best she could, until it was time to leave for the airport.

  They were halfway down the 405 before Mia pressed her lover to see how she was feeling. "Honey, can you talk about your discussions with either of your parents?"

  "Not really," she replied, continuing to look out the window. "I need to let it settle."

  "Okay. I understand," Mia said, even though she didn’t. She was the type of person who understood her feelings by talking about them – at length – to nearly anyone. But she had quickly learned that Jordan was her exact opposite in the sharing department. It sometimes drove her crazy – like today – but she knew she couldn’t drag it out of her, so she contented herself with being as close physically as they could manage. As her speech decreased, Jordan’s displays of affection grew, until on a day like this, she was nearly molded to Mia’s body. Mia had been driving without her right hand since they’d left the hotel, and Jordan showed no signs of letting go soon. A warm hand rested on her right thigh, and Jordan occasionally gave her a squeeze, to remind her that she was there. It’s not what I want, but at least she can stand to touch when she’s like this, she mused. I don’t feel nearly as shut out when we’re close.

  Dreading the sight, she noticed the first exit for the airport. Even though they hadn’t been together all that much, and they hadn’t spoken much when they were together, Mia felt incredibly connected to her partner, and she knew it would be painful to let her go. They had no firm plans to see each other again, and the time they would have to be apart seemed to stretch into infinity.

  When they got to the point of choosing Departures or Arrivals, Jordan directed her to the Arrivals level, saying, "I want you to get going. I worry about you driving all the way back to Berkeley tonight."

  "But you’ve got another hour until your flight," Mia pouted. "I want to be with you as long as I can."

  Jordan gave her a fond smile and said, "Come on, baby, give in for a change. If you get going now, you’ll be home by the time I am, and I won’t have to stay up waiting for your call."

  The curly-haired woman hated it when Jordan used her concern for her to get her way, but it really did work, so she had to give her credit. "Okay. I don’t like it, though."

  "I don’t like it either," Jordan said quietly, sounding like she was about to cry.

  Mia clasped the hand that held her tightly and said, "If you cry, I’m gonna park. You don’t want that, do you?"

  Her gentle attempt at humor brought Jordan partially out of her lachrymose mood and she gave her partner a wan smile. "I’m okay. Promise," she added for good measure. Mia pulled up in front of the Continental Airlines terminal, and gazed at her partner longingly.

  "How can I miss you already?" she sighed.

  "I don’t know; but I miss you, too, so let me know when you figure it out."

  Even though her tone was light, the sadness in the clear blue eyes was too much for Mia to take. "You’d better scoot," she said. "The police are moving people along."

  Jordan leaned in and kissed her firmly, squeezing her tight as she tried to stave off the tears that were desperately trying to escape. "I love you. Thanks … for everything, Mia."

  "Hey … no big deal. I just loved you. That’s always a pleasure."

  With a wan sigh, Jordan got out and tugged her bag out of the back seat. She stood up, bag in hand, looking more like a lost child than an adult. "I wish that were true," she said, so softly that Mia almost didn’t hear her.

  Fighting to control her emotions, Mia blew her a kiss and waved, then veered her car into the heavy Sunday evening traffic for the long drive home.

  Part 17

  Jamie leaned back in the bus seat, watching the scenery breeze by. She was sitting alone, as was every other player on the team. Having been on Ryan’s team bus, she knew that not all of the athletes on Cal’s teams were so reserved, but she had to admit that golf at the college level was a funny sport. One of the most individually focused sports, their collective success or failure depended on team results. Each individual score was added together, giving the team a score for the day. At the end of the three-day tournament, their cumulative scores were added up to create huge numbers. But even with a total of over 900 points, the difference between first and second place was usually only a few points. So a poor round – a single missed putt – by one individual, could drop a team from first to second or even third place.

  In Jamie’s opinion, most golfers put a lot of pressure on themselves – but to have your entire team counting on you to hit a fairway or make a chip was often more than an inexperienced young woman could handle.

  Scott Godfrey, the head coach, came down the aisle and sank into the seat beside Jamie. Leaning over so only she could hear him, he asked, "How do you feel about doing a little mentoring?"

  "Mentoring?"

  "Yeah. We normally assign rooms at random, but I’m having second thoughts about doing that. I thought that I could assign an upperclassman to a room with each of the two freshmen to give them a little support. Lauren and Samantha both seem a little freaked out, and I thought it might help."

  "I’m happy to help if I can, Scott," she said. "Do you mind a suggestion?"

  "No, not at all."

  "Don’t ask Juliet to do this. I know she’s the only other senior, but she’s so focused on her own game that I don’t think she’d be any help at all."

  "Yeah," Scott nodded, "that would be like having one of the freshmen in a single room, wouldn’t it?"

  "Just about," she said. "How about Margo? She’d loosen one of them up."

  "That’s a good idea," he said. "Margo doesn’t let anything bother her – and that’s the attitude I want the freshmen to develop."

  "Well, I volunteer to room with Lauren," Jamie said. "She’s clearly the more nervous of the two."

  "Good deal, Jamie," Scott said. "Thanks for helping out."

  "My pleasure," she said. "I’m very excited about this season. I think we’re gonna surprise some people."

  After settling into their rooms, the golfers gathered in a go
od-sized banquet room. Scott and his assistant coaches stood in the center of a circle of chairs, and all of the girls chose a seat. Jamie looked across the room at Juliet, regretting that they’d barely spoken since the incident at Juliet’s home. But, even though Jamie felt bad about the chilly reception she got, she wasn’t about to go too far out of her way to reassure the woman. From her perspective, Juliet had issues far too complex for Jamie to understand; and given that the taciturn woman was loath to discuss them, she didn’t see many options.

  Waiting until everyone was settled, Scott said, "Since we start our spring schedule tomorrow, this seemed like a good time to get to know each other. We’re going to have to be each other’s cheerleaders, since we don’t have a home course, and most of our matches are played quite some distance from Berkeley. So, what we’d like to do today is to spend some time learning the basics about everyone.

  "I’d like each of you to interview every other player." The girls all gave each other puzzled looks, while Scott continued. "Ask your teammates any questions about themselves, their families, their golfing careers … anything that you think is important to know about a teammate. When we’re all done, I’ll ask some questions to see who did the best job. We have a very nice prize for the winner – so do your best, girls."

  He passed out pencils and notepads to all of the players, then said, "Let’s go! We’ll be back in an hour to see who the best interviewer is."

  To Jamie’s surprise, she won the competition hands-down; beating her closest competitor by 9 points. "Excellent job, Jamie," Scott said. "I hope you’re planning on going to law school, because you’d be a great trial lawyer."

  "No plans to do that, Scott," she said. "Maybe I’ll become a journalist, instead."

  Scott signaled one of his assistants, and to Jamie’s surprise, he came back in with a beautiful, new golf bag. "One of our alums is working at Titleist, selling golf equipment," he said. "She generously donated this beautiful bag that we’ll have your name put on."

  "Wow," Jamie said, genuinely impressed. The big, navy blue bag had a large gold, embroidered logo of the university on the side, as well as room for Jamie’s name. "This is so cool, Scott!"

  "I hope you enjoy it, Jamie. And, for the record," he announced to the assembled group, "we have one more. We’re going to award that one to the low scorer for the tournament."

  "Thanks very, very much," she beamed, very pleased with the gift.

  After a break for snacks, Scott introduced the next event. "Now, I’d like each of you to talk about your ultimate goal in golf. Don’t be afraid to be immodest," he warned. "Jamie, since you were the winner in the last contest, you can start out."

  She collected her thoughts and said, "As you all know from the interviews, I played on my high school team. But, I didn’t think I had the game to play at the collegiate level, so I didn’t even try to get a golf scholarship. I made some changes last year that allowed me to play more of a power game, and that’s what gave me the nerve to try out for the team this year.

  "I’ve found that I really love the game, and I don’t want to give it up next year. I know I’m not good enough to play on the pro tour, and I wouldn’t want to live that life even if I were good enough – but I don’t want to stop competing.

  "So, I’d say I have two goals. One, is to play as well as I possibly can this spring, and help take us to the NCAA tournament; the other is to continue to play as an amateur, and eventually be able to compete in the U.S. Amateur tournament."

  "Thanks, Jamie," Scott said. "I think that both of those goals are attainable. Now, who wants to go next?"

  By the time they were all finished, it was time for dinner. The dining room was set up with a number of small tables, each one for 4 players. Jamie intentionally sat with the sophomores, since she knew those players less well than any of the others. They had an enjoyable meal, mostly talking about golf, as usual, but Jamie enjoyed herself, nonetheless.

  After the meal, Scott said, "As our last planned activity, I’d like each of you to choose one person who you trust, and talk about your life goals. I know that it’s easy to let golf take over your lives, but I want you to think beyond that. What would you do if you couldn’t play any longer? Do you plan on having a family? What kind of career would you like to pursue? These are questions that many of us don’t stop to think about until our golf careers come to a halt – sometimes involuntarily. So, I’d like you to think about them now, and discuss your thoughts with a teammate. I won’t make assignments, since I want you to be able to open up, and I know that’s not easy to do with a stranger. So, pick your partners, and have a good evening. We won’t meet up again after this, so I’ll see you all at breakfast tomorrow."

  The girls all sat around looking at each other nervously for a moment, then they all sought out their best friend on the team and took off. Not surprisingly, the only two left were Jamie and Juliet. Most of the girls were completely intimidated by Juliet, so it made sense that no one chose her, but Jamie had to admit that she had no more real friends than Juliet did.

  Standing, she walked slowly over to the woman, shrugged her shoulders, and said, "Where would you like to go to talk?"

  "Uhm … we don’t have to tell Scott what we talk about, do we?"

  "No, I think he made it clear that this is private. Don’t worry, Juliet, this is only between you and me."

  "Oh … uhm … I uhm … thought that if we weren’t gonna have to tell him what happened, we could go to our rooms. I don’t really have anything to say, Jamie."

  Jamie stood a little closer to the woman and adopted one of her most serious looks. "Get up."

  "What?"

  "You heard me. Get … up … now."

  Eyes wide, Juliet did so, stumbling a little as she pushed her chair back.

  "Look, you’ve been acting like an idiot. You made a pass at me, I told you no. Leave it behind you, for God’s sake! You didn’t stab me, Juliet – you showed me that you found me attractive. Now, you might be willing to have this level of distance for three and a half months, but I’m not. I want this team to win, and the only way to do that is if we play as a team. Now, get over yourself."

  Juliet nodded, looking mortally embarrassed. "I … I’m sorry, Jamie. I don’t know what else to say. I’m very, very sorry."

  "That’s over, Juliet. I’ve let it go – now, you have to."

  "I don’t know if I can," she said softly.

  "Let’s go somewhere and talk this out," Jamie said. "Do you want to go to the bar?"

  "No, no, I couldn’t talk about this in a public place. Someone might hear."

  Blowing out a frustrated breath that fluttered her bangs, Jamie said, "Fine. Who are you rooming with."

  "No one. I’ve got the single."

  "Come on," Jamie said, heading purposefully for the elevator.

  Annoyingly jingling a pair of coins in her pocket, Juliet asked, "Are you sure you’re willing to come to my room? I mean … after what happened …"

  "Do you have a hearing problem?" Jamie asked, nearly ready to resort to violence. "I told you that I have completely put that behind us. I meant that, Juliet."

  "I haven’t had a thing to drink," Juliet promised. "Actually, I haven’t had a drink since that night. I don’t think I’ll ever drink again."

  "Thanks for the reassurance," Jamie said, giving her a scowl. "Now, I don’t mean to insult you, but if you tried anything again, I’d knock your block off. I’m meaner than I look, Juliet, and after warning you once, I wouldn’t have a problem in the world with popping you one."

  "Jamie, I swear I won’t …"

  The blonde grabbed her teammate by the shoulders and gave her a rough shake. "Shut up! I’ll also pop you one if you apologize again. Jesus Christ!"

  Not another word was spoken as the elevator doors opened to take them up to the third floor. Juliet’s hands were shaking noticeably as she slipped her key card into the lock, and Jamie felt a stab of regret for being so harsh with her. They entered the r
oom, and Jamie sat down at the table, with Juliet choosing the most distant bed.

  "Okay," Jamie said, trying to smile. "I guess I’ll start." At Juliet’s puzzled look, she said, "We have an assignment to complete … remember?"

  "Oh! Right … go right ahead."

  "Well … my goals for the future are to continue to work on my relationship with Ryan," Jamie began. "We’ve only been together since June, and we still have a lot to learn about each other. Actually," she said, smiling more genuinely, "I hope we’re always learning things about each other."

  "That must be nice," Juliet said, trying to match Jamie’s smile.

  "It is. And, since we love each other so much, we want to share our love with at least one child. Ryan hints at having a house full of kids, but I think we’ll be able to work out an accommodation."

  Juliet looked at her with longing in her eyes. "God, I can’t imagine doing that."

  "Having children?"

  "Uhm … yeah. I ahh … don’t think I’ll ever do that."

  "Why not, Juliet? A lot of women on the LPGA tour have kids."

  The taller woman shrugged. "I don’t think I will."

  "Okay," Jamie said, getting the message that Juliet didn’t want to reveal her reasons. "Well, even though Ryan will always be my top priority, both of us plan on having careers. I’m not at all sure what I want to do, but, luckily, I’m not under pressure to make a decision quickly. We’re going to take next year off and spend the time making some long-term decisions." Jamie looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "I used to think that the most important thing was what you accomplished in life. But, I’ve changed my thinking on that completely. For me, I’ll have lived a good life if Ryan and I have a loving, caring relationship; and our children grow up to be good people. Accomplishments are so hollow if you don’t have someone who loves you and can’t wait to see you at the end of the day."

  Jamie had been so focused on her thoughts that she hadn’t looked at Juliet for a while. When she turned to her, she saw the woman bent at the waist, her arms wrapped around herself; crying soundlessly. Jamie got up and went to the disconsolate woman, sitting next to her on the bed and gently touching her back. "Juliet, it’s obvious that you’re deeply troubled by something. I don’t want to intrude, but I would like to help you if I can. I’m a very good listener, and I promise that I’ll never tell anyone anything that you tell me."