Coalescence - SF3

by Meagher, Susan X

  The water was colder than she would have guessed, the fine, icy needles pricking her skin everywhere it hit. But she did not let that detail deter her—instead it urged her on, and she picked up the pace until she was running at her limit. The sensation was so intense that she heard her own voice let out a joyous whoop of pleasure as she ran through the water. Not surprisingly, the fine, short grass, the foggy morning and the cold spray did not provide a good running surface, and after a short while, she took a header—falling onto her belly, arms extended. She slid a good ten yards, grass tickling her chilled skin. But the fall did nothing to disrupt her enjoyment of the experience—instead it allowed her to create a variation on the game.

  Getting to her feet, she took off in a mad sprint, and then intentionally flopped onto the ground, sliding as far as her momentum would take her. This wild romp continued for some minutes until she heard a gentle, bemused laugh floating up from the pool house.

  Turning quickly, she spotted her lover, clad only in one of Ryan’s Tshirts. The small, shivering woman smiled engagingly at her wild lover, shaking her head in amusement at the antics.

  Ryan started to run over, waiting until she was about 20 feet away to launch herself again, sliding on her belly until she stopped just a foot or so from her laughing partner.

  "You obviously didn’t get the memo, Sweetie, but you ceased to be a three-year-old twenty years ago," she said with a warm smile.

  The dark head shook forcefully as Ryan returned the smile. "I never read memos," she declared. "And if you take that shirt off and join me, you can act like you didn’t read it, either." Dark eyebrows twitched in challenge, and Jamie knew that she had made a tactical error in coming outside in the first place. Still, the luminescent smile on her lover’s face compelled her to whisk the shirt off and grasp the hand her playful partner extended.

  They took off together, Jamie screaming at the shock of the ice-cold water pelting her body. Ryan’s joyful laugh caused her to forget the discomfort and revel in the experience—forcing herself to feel only the exhilaration of the moment.

  They got up a good head of steam and dove across the ground together, hands clasped as they slid through the spiky blades of grass. Ryan grasped her lover’s chilled, soaked body and wrapped her in a joyful hug, their joined bodies almost immediately creating warmth everywhere that they touched.

  "That was fabulous," Jamie cried, throwing her head back to let out a yell.

  "That rocked!" Ryan released her partner and took off one last time, this time executing a stylish feet-first slide, then rolling onto her back and spreading her arms and legs out fully. "Race you to the spa!" she yelled, scampering to her feet and taking off.

  Shaking her wet hair like a dog, Jamie ran after her mischievous companion, laughing the whole way.

  After 15 minutes in the spa, both women were warm and invigorated. Jamie had thoughtfully brought a set of sweats for each of them when she noticed her partner’s antics, and they now each put the welcome outfits on.

  "Got any plans in mind?" Jamie asked.

  "Nope. Not a one," Ryan smiled. "You?"

  "Let’s drag a couple of chairs out by the cliff and watch the sea birds eat breakfast," the smaller woman decided.

  "Okay," Ryan warned. "But watching those birds eat sashimi is definitely gonna make me want a big breakfast."

  It took a few minutes to drag a pair of heavy, wrought iron chaises from the pool house out to the cliff, but the view was worth the effort. It was 7:30 now, and the fog, while still thick, showed signs of dissipating. The temperature was in the high 50s--brisk, but not too bad with the warm sweats covering their bodies.

  They watched the surf crash and thrum against the rocks for a long while, each silently lost in her own thoughts. Jamie finally broke the silence, squeezing her partner’s hand as she asked, "What goes through your mind to cause you to do wild things like that?"

  "Wild?" Ryan laughed. At Jamie’s nod she answered, "I don’t know, Hon. I love to be naked outside—always have. Whenever I get the chance to be out in the elements I jump at it. Today was a perfect opportunity." She smiled broadly.

  "But how do you feel when you do something like that?" Jamie asked, wanting to understand her partner better.

  Ryan mused about her answer for a few moments. She finally turned and said, "I feel…alive. I don’t have a better way to put it, Jamie. I love to feel sensation—the cold, the wet, the sharp blades of grass tickling my tummy—all of those things just remind me that I’m alive."

  "Have you always been like that, Babe?"

  Ryan’s face darkened noticeably. She paused a second, then answered. "I had to make a decision about how I was going to live my life when I was young. I could choose to let the fear of death ruin my life, or I could consciously embrace every day that I had on earth. I try, with all my heart, to do the latter."

  Jamie squeezed her hand firmly, then drew the hand close and kissed the warm palm. "It always hurts to think about that time, doesn’t it?"

  Ryan nodded, lips slightly pursed.

  "I’ve um…been thinking, Honey," the smaller woman said. She had been mulling an idea around in her head ever since the AIDS Ride, and this seemed like a good time to bring it up. "I might not have any idea what I’m talking about, but it occurred to me that you never talk about your mother or Michael without ending on a really sad note. Now, this might not help at all, but I thought maybe you could try to talk about the happy times with them, rather than just their deaths."

  Ryan nodded again, lips still pursed, but a thoughtful look on her face. She ran her hands through her dark hair, fluffing it in the breeze to help it dry. Jamie was resigned to have the short nod be Ryan’s only reply, but after another minute of silence, the dark woman finally spoke. "Do I really never talk about them in happy times?"

  Jamie shook her head, smiling briefly as she grasped Ryan’s hand again. "Um…you might with your family, but…you never have with me," she said softly. "I think I understand more about your mom, but I really don’t know what Michael meant to you when he was alive. I don’t know about the good times you had together, Baby."

  Ryan turned her head enough to make full eye contact with her partner. "Do you really want to know?"

  Jamie did want to know, not just to make Ryan feel better, but so she could feel more like a member of the O’Flaherty family. "Yes," she said, just loud enough to be heard over the waves. "I want to know because he means so much to you, Honey."

  "That he does," Ryan murmured, her gaze returning to the sea. "Okay, I’ll make an attempt. I’ll do my best to tell you about the fun we had together." Her face was set in a stoic grimace, and she looked like she was about to have a few important teeth pulled.

  Jamie wasn’t at all sure that this exercise would help, and she briefly regretted bringing it up. "You don’t have to do it all at once," she cautioned. "I just want to help you get some of the sadness out of your system. It might help to temper it with some good memories."

  "It might," Ryan agreed. "I mean, I know that the family should talk about this stuff, but we really don’t. We talk about my mother, but Michael is still pretty much off-limits."

  "There’s a lot of pain there." Jamie empathized, knowing that his youth, his devastating illness and the split with his father had to make the loss all the more traumatic.

  "Yeah, of course there is, but there’s a lot of joy there too, and I’ve ignored that for a long while. Let’s give this a try, Babe. Maybe we can chip away at some of this frozen grief." She gave Jamie her most winning smile, but the smaller woman could see the sadness hiding behind the bright blue eyes.

  "I’m game," Jamie declared.

  Ryan set her jaw and gathered her thoughts for a moment. "What did Michael mean to me…Let’s start with music. That’s one of his biggest influences on me."

  "Really?" Jamie was a bit startled by this revelation. "I had no idea…"

  "He got all of us started," Ryan smiled. "His life was music…either play
ing, singing, or getting others to play. He played the piano, the guitar, the mandolin, the fiddle…He could pick up almost any instrument and figure out a way to make something pleasant come out of it."

  "Did he take lessons?"

  "Yeah…he took lessons in a number of things, but I think it was mostly just his natural talent that shone through. We all wanted to be just like him when we grew up, so we all started taking lessons in something as soon as we were able."

  "That’s so neat," Jamie said, green eyes twinkling. "What kind of music did he like?"

  "Ha! Let’s start with what he didn’t like! He didn’t like…I don’t think there was anything he didn’t like," Ryan laughed. "I’d have to say his favorite was R&B and soul, but he was an aficionado of traditional Irish music, he knew a lot about African music, and he liked a lot of artists from Western Europe. He didn’t know much about classical music or opera, but he probably would have gotten to them if he’d had time." She laughed gently, but the sadness started to show through again.

  Trying to get back on the positive track, Jamie asked, "R&B and soul were his favorites? That surprises me."

  Ryan laughed and agreed. "It was kinda funny. Here was this big, buff, white gay kid, totally into Otis Redding, Marvin Gaye, Al Green. I’m not sure how he was first exposed to those artists, but it clicked with him."

  "I’m sure you realize this, Honey, but your tastes are the same as his," Jamie gently pointed out.

  Ryan laughed a bit at this. "I know, Babe. I’m just a female clone. If Michael liked it, I liked it. Who knows, if he had been alive when I was developing my sexuality I might have been into guys!"

  "That’s a stretch!" the blonde laughed, confident that Ryan’s sexual orientation was the narrowest part of her expansive personality.

  "Yeah, you’re right there," Ryan agreed. "Hero worship could only go so far!"

  A happy little smile covered Ryan’s face, and Jamie gave her hand a squeeze. "Thanks for talking about him a little bit, Babe. This was helpful for me."

  Ryan nodded her dark head, looking pensive. "It was for me too," she agreed. "We’ll have to do this again."

  "I’ll hold you to that promise," Jamie assured her, leaning over to kiss the smiling lips.

  After the chairs were returned to their rightful spot, the twosome walked back to the house, hand in hand. They were nearing the house when Ryan said, "I think I have a pretty good idea on how to solve the security camera issue."

  "WHAT!! And you’re just telling me this now?!"

  "Uhh…yeah," Ryan laughed. "I’m not certain of the details, so I didn’t want to get your hopes up. I think my expert might call soon, though, so I thought I’d warn you."

  "Your expert?" Jamie blocked the entry to the house, standing with her hands placed firmly on her hips. "Ryan, what is going on?"

  The phone rang in the middle of this exchange, and Jamie dropped her hands and led the way into the kitchen, where they heard Conor’s voice over the answering machine, "Hey, Secret Agent, pick up," he demanded.

  Ryan gave Jamie a crooked grin and trotted over to grab the receiver. "Hi, Conor, it’s me," she said. She rolled her eyes at Jamie as she added, "Yes, it’s really me." Another pause and a second bout of eye rolling had her providing further identifying information. "Siobhán Ryan O’Flaherty. October 30, 1975." Jamie giggled as Ryan shook her head at her brother’s playfulness.

  Ryan listened attentively for a few moments as a big smile spread across her face. "I owe you big time, Bro." Mere seconds later she shook her head violently, "I don’t owe you that much, and it’s kinda sick to even ask." She pursed her lips as she said sarcastically; "It wouldn’t have the same impact if you cut me out, Dummy." Her smile returned as she said, "I love you, Conor. You’re the best."

  She hung up the phone and sat on her stool with a self-satisfied grin on her face. She crossed her arms and grinned at Jamie, waiting for her to ask about the phone call. The blonde tried to wait her out, but was totally unsuccessful. She finally jumped at her and tried to tickle the information out of her. Ryan fought her off pretty well, finally grasping her around the waist and picking her up until she had her comfortably placed in her lap. Jamie wrapped her arms around Ryan’s neck and kissed her a few times, pulling away with a big grin on her face. "Well, I can’t tickle or kiss it out of you, how do I get you to tell me what that phone call was about?"

  Ryan smiled down at her partner and batted her big blue eyes. "You could just ask, Sweetheart."

  "Where’s the fun in that?" Jamie asked incredulously. "But if that’s all it takes, I give. What was that call about?"

  "I called Conor this morning before I went for my run. I told him the manufacturer of the cameras and gave him a description of the room and where they were located. Then I told him about the door and gave him the manufacturer of the lock. When he got to work, he made a few calls and found the company that makes the system. They gave him the name of the local distributor, and he talked to them, too. "

  Jamie was jumping up and down with delight. She couldn’t bear the tedious recitation of facts, but she knew that she had to bear with Ryan’s thorough style.

  "Now, don’t get too excited, Cupcake." Ryan’s face grew serious as she tossed a major problem into the mix. "Not surprisingly, the local alarm company wasn’t willing to give out too much information to a complete stranger. They wouldn’t even confirm to Conor that they had done the work here."

  "What do we do now?" Her frustrated plea was accompanied by a frightened look that caused Ryan’s heart to clench.

  "Worry not, Babe. We have other avenues. Conor’s gonna work on finding out who put the lock on the door. If he can’t find that out, he’s gonna buy a new lock and replace the one on the door after he cuts it off. Then we can have the new lock re-keyed tomorrow to match your parents’ original keys, but we do have to find those keys if we can’t find the lock installer."

  Jamie leaned back and gazed at Ryan with open-mouthed surprise. "I can’t believe you two got all that done and it’s only eight o’clock."

  "Yep. Actually, the best time to reach a lot of these guys is between seven and eight. Most of them are in their shops during that time, so it worked out great. Plus, the alarm manufacturer is on the east coast, so it was normal business hours there."

  The frightened look was beginning to disappear from Jamie’s face, but she still didn’t have any idea about what their next step should be. "What can we do on this end, Honey?"

  "Do you have any idea where your parents keep documentation on work they’ve had done?"

  "I looked around pretty carefully yesterday, but I didn’t think to look for receipts for the work. Daddy is a real neat freak when it comes to paperwork, and my guess is that they would keep all the bills and stuff for this property in the library. Let’s look through it all and see if we can find the original paperwork from when the lock was installed."

  They walked hand in hand to the library, both relieved that Conor was on the job. Ryan sat perched on the edge of the desk while Jamie sat in the big leather chair and sorted through the neatly labeled file folders. "Bingo!" she cried after just a few minutes. "Here’s the work order for the alarm company, and here’s the receipt from Pebble Beach Lock and Key."

  Ryan took the papers and quickly decided on her course of action. "Let’s pursue the lock issue first." Her brow was furrowed with concentration as she slapped the receipts against her open palm. "I think it will be easier to get a duplicate key made than to have to call the alarm company and admit we don’t know a thing about the darned system. Let’s get that door open and hope for the best."

  "What will we do if that isn’t where the system is set up?"

  "Conor thinks it’s the most likely place, and he’s quite knowledgeable about systems like this. The worst thing that will happen is that we have to stay here until Monday and come up with some ruse to get the alarm company out here." Sliding her fingers through Jamie’s soft hair, Ryan added, "Staying here through the week
end isn’t the worst thing in the world, is it?"

  Jamie finally smiled at that question. "No, Honey. It wouldn’t be bad at all."

  Ryan’s eyes held a hint of playfulness as she dialed the lock company. She explained that she was Catherine Evans and that she had lost the key for the door to her security camera room. After a few more minutes of discussion, the locksmith agreed to bring over a spare key later in the day. She thanked him profusely but remembered to ask," What will the charge be for the key?" After a pause she said, "That’s quite generous of you, Michael. So there will be no bill or statement that comes to the house?" She paused again, then said in a conspiratorial tone, "My husband gets so angry when I lose things. I really don’t want him to find out about this." Another pause. "You’re a dear! Thanks so much." She hung up with yet another satisfied smile on her handsome face. "Mission accomplished!" she said happily.

  "My hero!" Jamie said, pulling her from the desk and enveloped her in a firm hug. "Hey," she said as she sat up. "How did you learn to lie so well?"

  "All those years of Catholic school have to come in handy for something," Ryan said with a grin. Standing up, she looked around the room and asked the question that had been in the back of her mind since the previous day. "Are there any other cameras in the house, or are they just in the gym?"

  Jamie looked up with a shocked expression on her face. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" she fumed as she furiously stomped her feet on the floor. "They’re in all of the public areas, like the foyer and the living room, and the main staircase. There might be one in the kitchen, too. And I’m sure there’s one outside the front and side doors. And probably one in the pool house."

  Ryan slid around her to pick up the paperwork from the alarm company, carefully reading the work order, since she knew plenty about contractor jargon. "This clearly says that the controls for everything are in the gym, so we should be able to figure out how the system works once we get that key." She fell back into the big chair and let out a heavy sigh, "Jeez, Jamie, why did we have to be naked, or touching, or kissing, in every imaginable square inch of this house?"