A full-fledged grin crossed Ryan’s face. "Careful," she drawled, "you might just find that she would like having her butt….kicked."
The blush deepened and Jamie crossed her legs, thinking of the evening’s activities. She cleared her throat and glanced at her mother, who was assiduously perusing her way through the flight magazine. She self-consciously lowered her voice. "Ain’t gonna happen, Babe," she said, repeating her earlier declaration.
"Uh-huh," Ryan smirked. "It’s gonna be a week, Love. A verrry long week. Filled with hours and hours of only phone sex. Speaking of which, I love those sexy panties you’re wearing. Know what I’d like to do…" She broke off and smiled at the barely audible moan issuing from the tiny receiver.
Jamie half-turned in her seat and lowered her voice almost to a whisper. "Ryan, behave yourself," Jamie scolded. "My mother is sitting right here!"
"Well, she’s gonna have to find her own phone pal, Baby."
"Eeeuuugh. Ryan!"
"Okay, okay," Ryan laughed. She was feeling a lot better. "Thanks for calling me, Love. And thanks for thinking of this way for us to keep in touch while we’re apart. I love you, Jamie."
"Love you, too. And if things get too bad, I’ll just get on the next plane and come home."
"To Santa Cruz," Ryan corrected.
"Absolutely. To Santa Cruz," Jamie agreed with a smile in her voice. "I’ll be the first volleyball groupie."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
"And you’ll call me every day?"
"Several times," Jamie assured her.
Ryan’s voice took on a deeper, seductive timbre. "And we can really try out phone sex? You know what they say about the phone–‘It’s the next best thing to being there.’"
"Honey, if it will make you feel better, we can leave the line connected all night long and sleep together. At least I’d be able to hear you breathing."
Ryan chuckled. "I think that’s how the phone sex starts…" She could hear the muffled announcements crackling out of the loudspeakers in the plane.
"Ryan, I’ve got to go now. Time to shut down the cell phones. I’ll call you when I get there, okay?"
"Okay, Babe." There was a brief pause before Ryan added, "Uh, Jamie…"
"Yes?"
The response was sultry and sexy and full of promise. "Be sure it’s from your room…and that you’re alone."
Jamie laughed. "That’s my girl."
"And don’t you forget it," Ryan threatened with a growl.
"No chance, Babe. Gotta go, I love you."
"Love you, too," Ryan answered, then heard the dial tone following the disconnect.
She took a deep breath and replaced the phone on her waistband, somehow drawing comfort from its presence there, as if it was a direct link to Jamie.
Ryan shook her head. In a lifelong relationship, there are going to be some times when we can’t help being separated. The thing to hold onto is that it is a lifetime commitment. We have the rest of our lives together.
Still smiling, she turned to go collect the Lexus, fingering the phone on her hip. Their being apart was going to be difficult, but it did present some interesting possibilities. Possibilities that she couldn’t wait to explore.
The opening bars of Beethoven’s "Ode to Joy" slowly invaded the sleep-clouded mind of the woman lying face down across a very disordered bed. She was clothed in a once neatly pressed blue blouse and a pair of equally rumpled khaki pants. Low black boots encased her feet, which dangled off the end of the bed.
A large, jet-black, curly haired dog lay at her side, her arm draped across his broad chest. His right ear twitched at the sound, and as the woman’s arm lifted from his body, he leapt to his feet and took off for the front door, growling ominously at the imagined intruder.
"Duffy," Ryan moaned, her voice muffled by the mattress. "Quiet!"
Still the music played on, persistently repeating the same sequence, and the woman tilted her head in an irritated fashion, searching for its source. "Shit!" she cried, getting to her hands and knees and scrambling across the bed. She grabbed the small neoprene-encased cell phone that rested on her bedside table and blinked rapidly, trying to focus her eyes clearly enough to find the "talk" button. "H’llo," she gasped, pushing the raven hair that had fallen forward in sleep back from her eyes.
"Good morning, Sleepy. Sounds like someone didn’t lie awake all night cursing my absence."
The teasing voice coming from the phone brought a smile to the dark woman’s face, and she nearly moaned in pleasure. "What a nice way to wake up," she said rather dreamily, forgetting about the irritations of the barking dog and the ringing phone.
"I miss you, Ryan," her partner’s voice murmured.
"I miss you too, Jamie," she said. "I was asleep, as you could tell, but I tossed and turned all night long. Worst night’s sleep I’ve had since we’ve been together." She surveyed the tangle of sheets that surrounded her, and looked down to see that she was still fully clothed. A small chuckle escaped as she admitted, "Although I am still in my clothes, so I guess I fell asleep rather quickly."
Jamie laughed gently, having a perfect image of her lover as she had left her five hours earlier at the airport. She allowed her mind to imagine how she must look now–mentally adding wrinkles to both her clothing and her face, mussing her hair thoroughly, and imagining her clear blue eyes cloudy and puffy from lack of sleep, "I think you look absolutely beautiful," she murmured, meaning every word.
"But you can’t see me," Ryan laughed. "We need those video phones." Oops, better watch that; she’d probably buy some.
"I can see you just fine, Babe," she disagreed. "I have very keen powers of visual memory."
Ryan’s voice dropped an octave, a feat easily accomplished so early in the morning. "Excellent," she growled. "That will come in very handy during your trip."
"Even from 3,000 miles I can see your blue eyes flashing when you think about sex, Ryan O’Flaherty." Her tone was very playful and filled with longing for the object of her affection.
"I miss you," Ryan said again, wishing desperately that she could reach out and touch her precious partner. "I know I’m repeating myself, but I can’t get past it. This is the first time since May that I haven’t woken to the feeling of you in my arms."
"I know, Love," she soothed, feeling their distance like an impervious barrier. "I fell asleep as soon as we got on the plane, and didn’t wake up until the landing gear dropped. I didn’t even feel that tired, but I didn’t want to be awake if you weren’t there to share the trip with me."
"Where are you now?" Ryan asked, thinking as she looked at her watch that this was far too early for Jamie and her mother to be at their destination.
"Boston. Mother’s waiting for her luggage, but since I didn’t have any I thought I’d let you know we made it safely."
"I’m glad you called, for several reasons," Ryan informed her. "One–because I miss you like crazy. And two–if you hadn’t, I might have slept all day. I forgot to set my alarm!"
Jamie laughed at her practical lover. At least her missing me was number one. "You’d better get going, Love. You have to get to Berkeley and get packed, you know."
"Yes, I know," Ryan agreed, uncharacteristically not looking forward to spending a week in Santa Cruz with her volleyball team, getting ready for the season. "I’ll have breakfast and get going. Jordan’s coming over at ten, and then we’re heading down together."
"Coach didn’t give you a hard time about driving yourself, did he?"
"No, not really. I just had to sign a waiver saying that I was over 21 and had voluntarily declined to accompany the team. He’s pretty easygoing about stuff like that. It really makes me glad that I chose the volleyball team."
"I’m glad too," Jamie agreed. "I think you’re gonna love playing, Baby, and I know I’m gonna love watching you. Oops…luggage is here. I’d better go help Mother."
"Are you going to sleep when you get there?"
"Yeah…pr
obably for a while. Why?"
"Before you do, look in your bag. I put a little something in there to help you sleep."
Jamie paused for a moment, casting a quick glance to make sure her mother’s bags had not arrived on the conveyor belt. "Does it have to be plugged in?" she asked cautiously, knowing that her lover would most likely gift her with some form of sex toy to relax her.
"Nope. No batteries required either," Ryan chuckled. "It’s completely innocent, Babe. I’m turning over a new leaf."
"Don’t you dare!" she responded with some alarm. "I’m just starting to exploit the old leaf!"
Ryan laughed gently, the deep rumble causing a shiver of delight to travel down Jamie’s back. "You got it. I’ll stay my naughty self until you tire of me."
"Never," Jamie whispered fiercely, the longing she felt for her partner like a sharp pain in the pit of her stomach. "I’ll never tire of you in any way, Ryan."
"I love you, Jamers," she said with a catch in her voice. "I wish I didn’t have to go."
"I love you too, Sweetheart. I’ll call you tonight."
"Bye."
"Bye."
As Ryan disconnected, she replaced the phone on the table and flopped over onto her back, staring at the ceiling for a long while, the ache she felt for her partner nearly palpable. "Jesus, it’s gonna be a long week," she grumbled, finally getting to her feet to tread upstairs for breakfast.
After attending early Mass with her father, playing with Duffy in the park to deplete some of his energy while retaining as much of her own as possible, and driving back across the bridge, Ryan was hard-pressed to get organized before Jordan arrived. They didn’t have to be in Santa Cruz until four, so they didn’t have to leave as early as they were planning, but Jordan had a favorite place she liked to stop for lunch about halfway down, so they wanted to allow plenty of time.
The doorbell rang at nine, and Ryan uttered a small curse as she ran down the stairs to answer. "I’m barely going to be ready by ten, Jordan, give me a bre…" As she threw the door open, Jim Evans stood staring at her, a look on his face that could only be described as intense.
"May I come in?" he asked, not waiting for permission as he did just that.
"Uhhh…sure," Ryan said as she reached behind him to close the door. "You do remember that Jamie’s gone, don’t yo…"
He turned quickly, fixing her with his vivid green eyes, so like Jamie’s in color–so unlike hers in warmth. "I’m well aware that she and Catherine have left, Ryan. It’s you that I wanted to speak to."
Every instinct told her to turn and run as fast as her long legs would carry her, but she knew that was not a viable choice, so she walked slowly towards the sofa and sat on the edge of a cushion, waiting for him to choose a spot. He didn’t sit, instead pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, not saying a word, marshalling his thoughts. Ryan briefly considered that he looked a little like a windup toy, but she feared that the energy he was mustering was going to be released in her direction very soon.
Her fear proved valid when he finally stopped and stared at her, his hands balled into fists. "What have you done to my daughter?" His question was simple, deceptively simple, but Ryan had no idea how to answer him.
"I don’t know what you mean…" she began, but he started to advance on her, finally standing dangerously close as he leaned over, his eyes blazing with anger.
"She’s not the same reliable girl she was before she met you, Ryan. There’s not one part of her personality that has remained intact, and Jamie was a wonderful person just the way she was. Need I recount the dramatic, unpalatable changes that have occurred?"
Ryan didn’t want to sit here and have him tower over her, but at the same time she certainly didn’t want to have a physical confrontation with him–even though she was sure she would come out on top if one became unavoidable. Deeming, for the moment, that discretion was the better part of valor, Ryan didn’t say a word, scooting back on the cushion to get some distance from the irate man.
He straightened up and began pacing again, ticking off the changes he found so objectionable on his fingers. "One–out of the blue, she starts having doubts about her engagement. Two–she decides to buy a bike and undertake a grueling physical conditioning program to support a charity that I’m sure she did not even know existed before she met you. Three–she starts picking fights with Jack, her mother and even me…something she had never done with any of us. Four–she pushes poor Jack until he’s forced to break off their engagement, just to preserve some semblance of his dignity. Five–she marches in here one day and declares that she’s entered into a permanent relationship with a woman. Six–she and I have had more disagreements in the few months she’s been with you than we have had in the blissful 20 years before you darkened our door. Seven–she decides that all of a sudden her investments are not aggressive enough…not earning enough…not growing enough. Suddenly she’s a market analyst, and she believes she’s competent to manage her own multi-million dollar trust. This from a girl who doesn’t know how to balance her own checkbook!"
She’s one of the brightest people I’ve ever met, you jerk! she cried to herself, knowing that she had to hold her tongue.
He stared at Ryan angrily, his face getting redder by the moment. "All of these things are so unlike Jamie. I want my daughter back!" he yelled, his voice so loud that Ryan’s ears rang.
Deciding that she didn’t want to be trapped on the couch again, Ryan got to her feet and started her own pacing routine, safely away from Jim with the couch as a barrier.
The silence hung heavily in the room until Ryan finally answered, "I don’t know what you expect me to say. It’s not in my power to give you what you want. Jamie is her own woman. Everyone changes, Jim…especially someone 21 years old. Jamie’s just growing up and learning to make her own choices."
"I don’t have a problem in the world with her growing up or making her own choices," he spat. "She did that when she became engaged to Jack, when she chose her course of study at school." He paused to look accusingly at Ryan. "My problem is that she isn’t making her own choices…you’re making her choices for her!"
Ryan could feel her anger start to boil, and she tried every trick to calm herself down. "I…am…not," she enunciated slowly, each word spoken with fervor. "I never have…and I never will. She’s a mature adult who is more capable of making her own choices than any ten women her age. You should be proud of the person she’s become…not angry that she’s not your little girl any more!" Oh shit! she chastised herself when she saw his anger blaze at her words. You went too far, Big Mouth! "I didn’t mean it like that Jim," she said in a conciliatory tone, knowing in her heart that it was too late.
To her surprise, her wounding words seemed to calm him down. He quickly controlled his temper and within seconds his face was an expressionless mask. In a monotone he responded. "I’ll not have you telling me to be proud of my daughter. I have always been proud of my Jamie. You know nothing of our relationship." As he spoke, his emotion grew until his voice was once again dripping with sarcasm. "You’ve been her lover for what…two months now?"
"Six weeks," Ryan supplied, constantly amazed that it had been such a short time.
"Six weeks," he mused. "Six weeks. And in these six weeks you’ve come to know her better than her mother and I do, is that right, Ryan? You know her better than Jack, who was her boyfriend, and then her lover, for three years. You know her better than her friend Cassie, who’s known her since preschool. Are you just naturally perceptive, or do you have some special skill at learning my daughter’s deepest feelings?"
"You’re always more perceptive concerning your soul-mate's feelings," she announced, a defiant look in her eye. "But I’ve never claimed to know her better than any of you do. I know her just well enough to know that she’s able to make her own decisions. And I love her just enough to allow her to do so…without interfering." She knew that she was inciting him, but she could not allow him to continue denigrating Jamie
or their love.
He paced back and forth with his hands linked behind his back, head bowed in concentration, silently thinking of the young woman who had brought him so much joy before this interloper appeared on the scene. "This is getting us nowhere," he decided. "I think it’s time we stopped playing games and got to the point, don’t you?"
"I have no idea what your point is," she countered.
"Oh, I think you do, Ryan." He turned and sat in one of the upholstered chairs, reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, and extracted a cigar. While she waited for the punch line he fussed with the precious object, finally lighting it and taking several deep puffs. Blowing out a stream of smoke into the air above his head he gazed at Ryan and asked, "What exactly do you want from my daughter?"
"I have no idea what you’re getting at," she stated, folding her arms across her chest.
"Okay, let me make it more clear." His tone was now almost conversational, and Ryan realized that he was adopting his deal-making persona. "When Jamie comes to her senses and goes back to her true sexual orientation, as I am certain that she will, what do you hope to take away from this relationship?"
Ryan couldn’t conceive of her life without Jamie, but considered his question seriously since she assumed he was asking it in the same fashion. "I suppose I would take my shattered heart and try to recover enough to start over. But I would question my judgment for a very long time if I could be so wrong about someone."
Jim had expected her to be evasive concerning how she was using Jamie, so he phrased his intent more directly. "I think you know that I was referring to your monetary aspirations," he said quietly.
"I have no monetary aspirations when it comes to Jamie," she replied in a tone even quieter than his. "And if you knew how special she was, you would know that no amount of money could ever make up for the loss of her love."
He was taken aback by this simple declaration. He didn’t believe it for one minute, but the thought crossed his mind that Ryan could make a good trial attorney since she was able to come up with such ready, yet sincere-sounding lies.
Fidelity - SF6 Page 6
