Coalescence - SF3

by Meagher, Susan X

  "Nope. I just understand momentum and confidence levels. I say, play bold until you lose it."

  It took Jamie two putts to bring the ball home, but she was intensely pleased with herself for taking a risk. Chip didn’t say much, but she could tell he was impressed also.

  After they finished nine, they passed a snack bar and stopped to buy some treats. Ryan bought three candy bars and a big bottle of Gatorade, while Jamie decided on a bag of pretzels and some water. They packed their goodies in the cart and took off again moments later.

  As they stood on the tenth tee, Jamie marveled at the fact that she was still two under par. She felt absolutely fabulous: strong, fit, well rested and well loved. She did not recall ever feeling better. She smiled over at Ryan, "I feel so totally good," she said happily. "Is this what being in love does to you?"

  "So it would seem," Ryan replied with a chuckle.

  They made their way around the course quickly, and Chip complimented Ryan repeatedly on how rapidly she played. Driving up to the 17th after another compliment, Ryan muttered, "That sounds like when I compliment someone at the gym on how well they’re breathing. That’s what you say when you’ve got nothing else positive to comment on."

  Jamie patted her leg reassuringly. "This doesn’t happen to you very often, does it?"

  Ryan knew just what she meant, and she had to admit that she was being a baby about the experience. "I don’t like doing things I’m not good at," she agreed a little sheepishly.

  "And it doesn’t happen very often, does it? Hmmm? Come on, Tiger, tell the truth."

  Ryan blushed deeply, suddenly finding the snap on her golf glove to be very interesting. "No. It doesn’t."

  "I don’t know if this will reassure you, but golf is one sport where your success only comes from long hours of practice. I know you could be quite a decent golfer if we play once in a while, but to be really good you’d have to dedicate yourself to it."

  "No, thanks," Ryan said quickly. "I like it, and I like doing something active with you, but I wouldn’t give up anything else to do this."

  "Agreed," Jamie said. She gave Ryan a shy smile and admitted, "I kinda hoped you didn’t like it that much, to be honest. I really want to be better than you at something."

  "Oh, Sweetie! You’re better than I am at lots of things! You’re clearly a better golfer, you’re a better cook, I haven’t read your stuff, but I’m sure you’re a better writer, yo…"

  Jamie patted her leg as they neared Chip’s cart. "Thanks, Hon. Just a momentary insecurity attack. All better."

  Ryan leaned over and whispered, "You’re better at making love to me than I am." Jamie’s eyes became so wide at that comment that even Chip noticed.

  "Hey, Jamie, are you okay?" he called out.

  "Fine. Just fine," she said as airily as possible. As she exited the cart, she gave her partner a pinch and jumped out before even Ryan’s quick reflexes could allow her to retaliate.

  The 17th and 18th holes at Pebble Beach are two of the most stunning finishing holes in all of golf. When they stood on the 18th tee, they looked down the Cove edge that ran all the way along the fairway. Two beautiful cypress trees waited near the landing area, and The Lodge beckoned in the distance. Waves crashed violently over the walls of the cove, and gulls cried out loudly, trying to be heard over the thundering surf. The hole was made for Jamie’s natural action. Putting every ounce of her power into ripping a drive down the left side of the fairway, she was astounded when she drove to the ball and saw that it had landed almost 290 yards from the tee. She pulled her three wood from her bag with such an intense look of determination spreading over her face that Ryan had to stifle the urge to laugh. Jamie gave the three wood all she had, and it traveled a good 240 yards, leaving her just a wedge to the green. She strode back to the cart with a deeply satisfied grin on her face.

  Ryan matched her infectious grin, completely forgetting about her own struggles on this beautiful hole. She loved seeing her partner so full of confidence. After she finally reached the green herself, she watched as Jamie shut out all distractions to concentrate on her putt. She was lying about eight feet from the hole, and she looked at the putt from every angle, getting down on her haunches three times to eye it from every perspective. Ryan was surprised with how she finally chose to approach the ball. It looked like she was aimed all wrong, but she kept her mouth firmly shut. Jamie drew the club back and smoothly rolled the ball directly into the hole. She let out a "whoop" as she thrust her right arm into the air in exultation. Ryan went over and high-fived her as she gave her a winning smile. After Ryan holed out, they drove the short distance to The Lodge, where Jamie offered to buy lunch for all of them. Chip couldn’t stay, since he had a 12:30 lesson, so he bid goodbye to Ryan, again mentioning her quick play. "Now don’t forget our date tomorrow," he said to Jamie with a very friendly smile.

  "Oh, I won’t."

  "I could make room for you on Thursday and Friday, too," Chip added, as he turned to leave.

  Jamie started to walk toward the grill, but she turned when she noticed Ryan was not with her. A dark look had come over the normally smiling face, and Jamie scampered back to see what the problem was.

  Ryan’s hands were shoved in her pockets, and she rocked back and forth as much as her cleated shoes allowed. Jamie knew these were obvious signs of upset, so she placed her hand on her arm and guided her back outside where they could speak privately.

  "What’s wrong, Honey?" she asked quietly.

  "Date," was the only word that came from Ryan’s pursed lips.

  "Date?" Jamie was at a loss, wracking her brain trying to decipher this code.

  "Chip said you have a date tomorrow." The words came out crisp and clipped.

  "Oh!" Jamie relaxed and laughed, finding it rather funny that Ryan would take the statement in that way. "We’re just having a lesson tomorrow, Babe. I can’t believe you’d think I would date him, or anyone else!"

  To her surprise, this information did not brighten Ryan’s mood. Her face was still set and unyielding, her posture rigid. "I was under the impression that this was our honeymoon," the dark woman said, enunciating each word. "I don’t think I would have signed up for the trip if I knew it included the golf package." With that, she strode back into The Lodge and made her way to the ladies’ lounge.

  Jamie resisted the powerful urge to follow her partner. She knew that Ryan tended to get angry, blow off some steam and was then able to have a rational discussion, so she decided to stay outside and wait her out, hoping that the storm would pass quickly.

  Four days. We have four full days for our honeymoon. We could have had seven, but nooooo. We had to stay at Mia’s; we had to do laundry before we came down here; and she has to go to Jack’s--goddamned Jack’s, she quickly amended--graduation. Fine…just fine.

  Taking the band from her hair, Ryan used one of the provided brushes to remove as much sand from her hair as possible. She was yanking the brush through her locks so forcefully that a dark halo of statically charged hair floated around her head. Wetting her hands, she smoothed the flyaway hair into place and splashed some cold water on her face.

  Still steaming, she grabbed one of the thin washcloths and used it to thoroughly clean her face and neck. As the suds slid down the drain, so did much of her pique.

  You wanted to stop and see Mia, too, ya big dope. And it was you that wanted to do laundry. She folded her arms across her chest, staring at herself in the mirror. Jamie offered to skip Mia’s and come directly down here, so don’t act like this is all her fault.

  Narrowing her eyes at herself, she added, She asked you if you minded if she went to goddamned Jack’s graduation. If you were going to pitch a bitch, you should have done it then. It’s childish to agree to everything, and then cry about it.

  Her lids fluttered closed as she took in a deep breath, then let it out in a controlled stream. Face it, Ryan. You’re pissed because she didn’t want to make love this morning. You thought you’d be horizontal
the whole time, but she obviously has other plans.

  Her eyes opened just enough for her to catch the bemused grin that was tugging at her lips. Married life is all about communication and compromise—now get out there and start compromising.

  It took about ten minutes for Ryan to reappear, and Jamie fought with herself as each minute ticked away. She was just about to go find her when Ryan came back out. To Jamie’s experienced eye, her partner looked much more like her normal self. Her gait was easy and fluid, and her eyes once again were able to meet Jamie’s.

  "I’m sorry," she said quietly, coming up alongside Jamie. The smaller woman was leaning against the wooden railing that surrounded the clubhouse, and Ryan imitated her posture.

  They looked out on the course together for a few moments, until Jamie finally spoke. "I’m sorry I didn’t ask you if you minded if I took a lesson tomorrow. That was thoughtless of me, and I’m going to cancel when we go by the pro shop."

  "No." Ryan placed her hand on Jamie’s arm and squeezed it lightly. "I was acting immaturely. If you want to do that, I want you to do it."

  "Can we go inside and have a bite to eat?" she asked, knowing that Ryan had to be starving.

  "Sure."

  They were escorted to a nice table with a view of the 18th fairway and green. After they ordered, Ryan sat back and considered how to approach the issue. A few moments of thought, and she jumped in. "I guess I don’t understand why you want to take golf lessons at all, much less on our honeymoon. I mean, it’s not like you’re not good enough already."

  "Thanks," Jamie smiled, deciding to take her compliments as she found them. "I’m sure it seems that way, but there are some big flaws in my game. Chip thinks I’ve really improved, and he wants to work with me a little bit to develop a better fade. I like to work with him, and he’s available, and I guess I just wasn’t thinking." She started to reach for Ryan’s hand, but remembered where they were and drew back. "I shouldn’t have been making any plans without consulting you, Honey. I’m gonna cancel."

  "No, no, no," Ryan insisted. "I’m clueless about this, but I want to understand. Why do you want to improve your game?"

  "Well he thinks, and I stress the ‘he’, that I could maybe play for Cal this year," she said with an embarrassed smirk.

  "Is that something you’d like to do?" Ryan asked, having never considered that her partner had an aspiration to play golf competitively.

  "I think I would," she admitted. "I really didn’t want to stop playing after high school, but I wasn’t able to keep up with the guys by my senior year, so I didn’t even try when I first got to Berkeley."

  "Why was it important that you couldn’t keep up with the guys? Didn’t you compete against other girls’ teams?"

  "I wasn’t on the girls’ team," she said with a twinkle.

  "You were on the boys’ team?" Ryan asked, rather shocked.

  "Yeah, my school didn’t offer golf for girls, so I played my butt off to finally make the team. I worked at it so hard--I was just a maniac. I had calluses on my hands so thick, I looked like a lumberjack," she laughed. "My mother thought I was insane, but Daddy was so proud of me," she said fondly.

  "But you liked it for you, too, right?"

  "Yeah. I did it for me too. I really like to play, and I’m pretty good at it. I like the fact that you compete mostly against the course; there aren’t any judges to make subjective decisions. I also like having to be mentally tough to accomplish something."

  "Wow," Ryan muttered, "this never crossed my mind."

  "I won’t do it if you don’t want me to, Babe." Jamie tilted her head to make eye contact with her partner.

  Ryan fixed her gaze and sat still for a minute, formulating her response. "Is Chip the right guy to give you this advice?"

  Jamie nodded confidently. "He’s known me for a few years, and I like his teaching style a lot. I don’t think he’d lie to me, Ryan."

  "Then I think you should do it," she urged. "You’ve only got a year of school left, so it’s now or never. I think you’d regret not having tried, Jamie."

  "Thank you for understanding," Jamie said, now giving in to her need and tracing her finger down Ryan’s hand. "It means a lot to me to have your support."

  "I do support you, Jamie. I’m sure you can do this, if it’s something you really want."

  "Maybe." The smaller woman was not as convinced at her partner seemed to be, but she was willing to give it a shot. "I’ll work with him for a while tomorrow, but I promise not to commit to any more time without talking to you first."

  "Agreed," Ryan smiled, feeling fairly normal again. "I have confidence that you can do this if you work hard, Babe."

  "I so enjoyed having the AIDS Ride as a goal," the smaller woman mused. "I feel like I need a new goal now that it’s over."

  "That’s a good point," Ryan smiled. "I might need to reassess my goals too."

  "What do you mean?" Jamie asked.

  "You’ll just have to wait and see, Cupcake," she said with a grin as their food was delivered.

  Part 7

  When they arrived home, Ryan immediately got into the shower to remove the sand that had hidden itself beneath her clothing. She emerged a few minutes later, hoping to find Jamie in bed, but no such luck. Tugging on a bright yellow nylon tank top and a pair of blue and white print running shorts, Ryan went in search of her partner.

  A thorough scan of the house failed to locate her, so the dark-haired detective walked out the back door to search the grounds. She stood outside of the door and scratched her head for a moment, thinking that the grounds were large enough to make her task rather monumental. "Jamie," she called, in a slightly raised voice. Hearing no response, she started to walk around the building. Both outdoor patios were vacant, so she jogged down to the pool house, which also failed to pay off. Trying her voice again, she yelled, "JAMIE!"

  That did the trick as she heard a faint, "Up here, Honey."

  "UP WHERE?"

  "Up here," her elusive partner replied, shedding absolutely no light on the matter. Ryan looked around again, starting at ground level. The house was set back on the lot with a large expanse of lawn that led to the fabulous view of the ocean over a high cliff. The pool house was at a 45-degree angle to the house, fairly close to the cliff. Near the house, almost directly across from the pool house, she noted a possible hiding place. Built into a tall, gnarled cypress was an elegant little tree house. It was unlike any such structure she had ever seen, which didn’t surprise her in the least, given that the Evans family was unlike any she had ever known. The house was sturdily built out of wood with real casement windows and a little Dutch door. The roof was shingled in shake and weathered a dull gray; the outside walls were clapboard and painted a complementary dove gray. The properly scaled casement windows were open, and the top half of the door was also propped open.

  As Ryan walked under the tree house, she spotted the means of access--small rungs nailed to the tree at about nine inch increments. One had to climb around the circumference of the tree to reach the door, obviously so that a small child could maneuver up the height, but she managed it easily, even with her rather large feet.

  She poked her head over the closed bottom door to see her lover, clad in madras plaid cotton boxers and a sky blue T-shirt. "Hey, little girl," Ryan said seductively. "Can I come over and play?"

  Jamie regarded her pink face for a moment. "That depends," she answered quietly. "Do you play nice?"

  "I haven’t had many complaints," she admitted. "But I’m sure that I’d be happy to let you choose the games we play."

  "Okay, come on in," she decided.

  Ryan just grinned as she clambered over the closed door. She sat down on the floor, imitating Jamie’s posture and looked quizzically at her partner. Jamie didn’t seem to be in the mood to explain herself, and it seemed that she was feeling uncomfortable again. Ryan was determined to draw her out, so she commented, "I bet you spent a lot of time up here as a kid."

 
A small smile lit Jamie’s features as she recalled, "Yeah. It was one place that was my own. I could come up here with my dolls and toys or a book, and while away the afternoon."

  "You know, it’s funny," Ryan said. "I’d guess that I didn’t have an entire afternoon to myself…well…ever. I mean, I guess I could have, once I was in college and the boys were working, but I was usually working or going to class. Being down here has made it clearer to me how differently we were raised." She kept a careful eye out for her partner’s reaction to her next statement. "I think we’re both going to have to make some adjustments."

  "Like what?" Jamie asked, looking interested.

  "Like having a need for quiet time, or alone time …those kinds of things. I’d guess that you need time alone every day, don’t you?"

  "Yeah, I guess I do," Jamie said thoughtfully. "I’ve not thought about it much, but I am used to having time to reflect and write a little every day. I haven’t been doing that much for the last few months, and I miss it a little bit. What about you?"

  "I get my alone time in the morning, when I run. That time is pretty precious for me, you know."

  "I’m not sure I knew that," Jamie said. "But it makes sense."

  "Yeah, it lets me work out problems and plan my day. I’ve missed it a little in the last couple of weeks."

  "I guess we have upset each other’s schedules," Jamie mused. "How do we get back to them?"

  "Let’s start now," Ryan suggested. "I’m nearly dressed for a run. Let me go on a nice long jog along the water, and you can spend some time up here in your little house."

  "You don’t think my house is silly, do you?" she asked with an embarrassed laugh.

  "Not at all," Ryan insisted. "Any place that allows you to get in touch with your young self is a good place. I do some of my best thinking playing on a playground."