Fidelity - SF6

by Meagher, Susan X

  "Dismissed," Ryan smiled, snapping off a salute.

  As soon as she could make her getaway, Jamie excused herself and headed for bed. She dropped her clothes to the floor as she walked across the room and plucked a T-shirt from the dresser. After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she settled down on the window seat to stare out at the inky stillness of the ocean at low tide. The night was very warm, not even a breeze coming through the open window, and as she stared out at the night sky she felt a few tears start to roll down her cheeks. A few minutes later she was startled out of her mood by a quiet knock on the door.

  "Come in," she said flatly.

  Catherine opened the door and stepped in, shutting it quietly behind her. Seeing the bereft look on her daughter’s face, she immediately crossed over to the window and sat down. "What’s wrong, Honey?" she asked as she caught the tears with a fingertip. "Has all of this started to get to you?"

  "A little, but mostly I miss Ryan," she said as she started to cry more forcefully.

  Catherine scooted closer and pulled her daughter near, running her fingers through her hair and patting her back gently as she let her cry for a while. A wave of sadness hit her as well, and she said, "I can’t tell you how much I regret not holding you like this when you were small. We both missed out on so much."

  Sniffing softly, Jamie looked up with red-rimmed eyes and asked, "Why didn’t you?"

  Catherine closed her eyes and let the memories fill her mind, trying to recall the young woman she had been 20 years ago. "I’m not sure, Honey," she said, the sadness feeling like a sharp pain in her stomach. "I guess I just didn’t know how."

  "I don’t understand that, Mom," she said, her lower lip quivering. "Didn’t you want to hold me?"

  "Of course I did," Catherine said, holding Jamie close. "You just didn’t react well to me. When your father held you, you quieted down immediately, but when I did it, you always fussed even more. Either he or Elizabeth used to take you from me almost immediately," she sniffed. "I thought you didn’t like me."

  Now Jamie cried even harder, her tears merging with her mother’s as they both mourned for the wasted opportunities of those early years–irredeemably lost forever. "I don’t ever remember not liking you. I thought you didn’t like me," she choked out.

  Pulling back slightly, Catherine fixed her daughter with a fierce stare, her brown eyes flashing with an inner fire. "I loved you then…and I love you now. I love you more than I’ve ever loved another soul, Jamie. You mean the whole world to me! I’m so sorry that I wasn’t able to show you that then."

  Clinging tightly to her mother, Jamie released some of the hurt and pain that she had been storing in her heart for so many years. "Thanks, Mom," she said finally. "That means a lot to me."

  "I have so much to make up for, Jamie. It’s not too late, is it?"

  Catherine had such a hopeful look in her eyes that Jamie would have told her it wasn’t, even if it was. Luckily, she was able to answer honestly. "It’s not too late, Mom. Not at all."

  "God, I’ve been hoping for this," Catherine sighed, resting her head on her daughter’s shoulder. "You don’t know how much."

  Jamie kissed the fine blonde hair and asked the question that had been in her mind for weeks. "What made you decide to try to get closer to me?"

  Taking in a heavy breath, Catherine wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, smiling when Jamie pulled one of her enormous T-shirt sleeves out and dabbed at her eyes. "Thanks," she said. Looking at the inscription on the shirt, she smiled and asked, "Ryan’s?"

  Jamie looked down and blushed as she read the front of her shirt. "Um…I’m not really a Lesbian Avenger…and neither is she. She just likes Tshirts with a message." Blushing even more fiercely she admitted, "I took it out of the dirty clothes so it would smell like her."

  "When I was young I used to wear your father’s dress shirts before I had them sent to the cleaners. Elizabeth thought I was mad." She chuckled softly, adding, "Marta used to take them from the laundry chute for me. I think she approved."

  "She would," Jamie agreed. "Too bad Marta wasn’t my nanny. I think we would have done much better as a family."

  "I couldn’t agree more," Catherine said. "Although having Elizabeth for a cook would have been frightening also!"

  "Good point," Jamie agreed, the elderly Englishwoman’s penchant for the blandest of foods legendary in their house.

  Now that the wash of emotion had passed, the embrace they shared began to feel a little too intimate for both of them, and they slowly broke apart, but not before Jamie leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her mother’s cheek. "Let’s do that again soon, okay?" she asked, putting words to her fear that this developing closeness might evaporate.

  Catherine gazed at her and smiled, nodding her head slightly as she did so. "We have a lot of hugs to make up for, Jamie. I’ll do my best."

  The younger woman stood and stretched, releasing some of the tension and sadness that had been building up in her body. "You didn’t answer my question," she prodded, as she recalled getting sidetracked. "I really think you made the first move here. What made you decide to do so?"

  "I might have made the first move, but you’re entirely responsible for that, Dear. I saw the light when I came to your house this past spring to ask you about your relationship with Ryan."

  "Huh? Why did that make you want to be closer? I thought you were angry with me."

  "I was, Jamie. I was angry that we didn’t have the kind of relationship where you felt safe to be honest with me. The next week I got on the phone and found a therapist. I’ve been seeing her twice a week ever since."

  "You have?!"

  "Yes, I have, and it’s been wonderfully helpful. She’s helped me see how much of the distance between us is just a legacy of my family. But she also helps me realize that just because I was raised that way, doesn’t make it all right to continue the tradition with you. I’m responsible for my actions–irrespective of how I was brought up."

  "That’s true," Jamie said thoughtfully. "We are each responsible for our actions. That’s why we need to make sure we keep talking like this. We have only ourselves to blame if we don’t try to make our relationship better."

  Catherine got up from the window seat and crossed the room to stand directly in front of her daughter, the light scent of her perfume wafting on the air to reach Jamie seconds before her mother did. Catherine placed one small hand atop each of Jamie’s shoulders and tilted her head up to be able to gaze directly into her taller daughter’s eyes. "This is a life goal for me, Jamie. I know that I’ll never be the best mother in the world, but I promise to try to be the best that I can be."

  Sniffling away the latest wave of tears, Jamie nodded her head, unable to reply with words. She wrapped her arms around the remarkably thin waist and held her close, relishing the comfort and security of a mother’s love.

  "Hi, Sweetheart." Ryan’s deep voice came through the phone line clearly, making her sound like she was nearby, rather than 3,000 miles away. "I didn’t wake you, did I?"

  "No, no," Jamie sniffed a little, looking around the room for a tissue. Catherine handed her one and gave a small wave as she walked towards their adjoining door. "Mother and I were just talking."

  "Honey? Are you crying?" Ryan’s voice was immediately full of concern, and Jamie smiled broadly as she soaked up the love she could feel speeding her way through the phone line.

  "Just a little, Love. But they’re good tears." She paused a moment, trying to decide how to characterize her feelings. "I just realized that I’ve felt more loved in the past three months than I have in the previous 21 years."

  "Even with the problems you’ve had with your father?" The question was out before Ryan could censor herself, and she mentally kicked herself since she had decided to wait until her partner was home to tell her about Jim’s visit.

  "Yeah." Jamie paused a beat then added, "I’m angry with him, but I don’t feel that he loves me any less than he did before.
I just think he’s misguided, Hon. I’m hoping that by the time I get back he will have had some time to reflect on this, and be able to be more open minded."

  "That would be nice," Ryan agreed. It’s not gonna happen, but it would be nice. "So tell me about these happiness tears," she asked.

  "I’ve got so much to tell you, Love, but it’s too late to go into detail. Let me just say that this is the second best trip of my life. I’m so glad that I came."

  "What was the absolute best?" Ryan asked, having a pretty good idea that she accompanied her partner on the one in question.

  "That’s a toughie," Jamie teased. "It’s either the summer Olympics in Barcelona in ‘92…or being on the AIDS Ride with you."

  "Hmm…I can see why that would be a tough choice. Either being up close with some of the most gifted athletes of our time, watching people show off their gorgeous bodies, seeing people perform feats that you could barely imagine…or going to the Olympics. I think it’s a flip."

  "It’s a flip all right," she giggled. "God, I miss you. Nobody makes me laugh like you do."

  "Me either," Ryan sighed. "I enjoy your sense of humor more than anyone else’s I know."

  "I enjoy every one of my senses when I’m with you," Jamie murmured. "I was thinking today about what I miss the most. It was a very difficult job, since a thousand different things came to mind, but I think I came up with the answer."

  "Don’t tell me, let me guess," Ryan said, thinking for a moment. "Is it a part of my body?"

  "Mmm-hmm."

  ""Let’s see…a part of my body. Do I have two of them?"

  "Mmm-hmm. You sure do."

  "Is it the part of me that you can’t wait to get your hands on when we make love?"

  "Nope. Not even close."

  "You like a part of me better than my breasts? I’m stunned!"

  "Hey, just because I have a fetish doesn’t mean that I’m fixated only on your luscious breasts. I like other parts of you equally well."

  "That’s good to know," Ryan said. "I was beginning to feel objectified," she sniffed. It was clear that she was kidding, Jamie’s interest in her breasts a long-standing point for teasing between them.

  "The things I miss most about you don’t even factor into my arousal–give up?" They loved to play guessing games, and it was no small issue that Ryan almost invariably won. Today, Jamie was confident that she had her stumped, and she was wringing every bit of satisfaction she could from that fact.

  "Hmm…at this point I’m just guessing, so I’ll say that you miss my eyes." Before Jamie could reply, Ryan’s voice dropped into its lowest register, causing a warm tingle to inch its way up Jamie’s spine. "When I look at you, I know that you can see in my eyes how much love I have for you, how much I respect you, how much I desire you. You can see the unquenchable need I have to be near you and to share my life with you. I know that you can look into my eyes and see that you make all of my dreams come true, and that you’re the answer to every prayer I’ve ever made."

  A low, slow whistle came from Jamie’s end of the phone, and she murmured, "I thought I missed your hands the most, but I just changed my mind. Lord, Ryan, the things you do to me with just a few words."

  "Ummm, my hands…don’t get me started on what I’d like to do to you with my hands," she whispered.

  "Oh, Ryan, I need to see you. I miss you so much…My world just doesn’t feel right when you’re not beside me."

  "I know, Love, I know," she soothed. "I feel the same. Only two more nights, though, and we’ll be together again."

  "Two more nights after this one, my little optimist," she reminded her.

  "Just trying to put the best spin on things," Ryan admitted.

  "Well, I hope you clear your calendar for the first two days that I’m home, Love, because you’re not going to see the light of day. Actually, your feet might not hit the floor."

  "I’ve got a teensy little bit of bad news on that front," Ryan said. "Annie paged me earlier today and said that Tommy’s days off got switched. He’s off from Sunday afternoon until Thursday. I uh…I said I’d pick the baby up on Sunday morning so they could get ready to leave."

  "So we’re gonna have Caitlin from the minute I get back?" Jamie tried to contain her disappointment, but she failed miserably.

  "It’ll be okay, Babe. We’ll figure something out so that we can have some alone time."

  "How soundly does she sleep?" Jamie asked, only partially kidding.

  "Not that soundly," Ryan laughed. "Don’t worry, Honey. We’ll have our time together. I promise."

  "I sure hope so," Jamie sighed. "Now that you’ve turned me into a sexual being, you can’t just pull the plug on me!"

  "I’ve got a week’s worth of love saved up for you, Sweetheart," Ryan crooned. "This little bout of abstinence is the longest I’ve gone without for a very, very long time. Lefty thinks I’m mad at her!"

  "Poor Lefty," Jamie empathized. "You kiss her and tell her that she’ll be put to good use soon. I think she’s kinda partial to me now, anyway, Ryan. She’s probably glad for the rest."

  Kissing her left hand audibly, Ryan informed her partner, "She’s waving at you, Babe. Says she misses you and that you are the favorite."

  "Heh heh. I’m winning over all of your body parts…one by one. Soon I’ll have complete control over you, Buffy."

  "You already have my heart, Jamie. That’s the most important part."

  Part 10

  After a quick breakfast, Jamie decided that she needed to get her heart rate up for the first time all week. Ryan’s down in Santa Cruz working her ass off, and I’m sitting on mine eating enough butter and cream for a small country! She wasn’t familiar enough with the neighborhood to feel comfortable going for an extended run, so she decided to swim. No one else was up yet, since it was only seven o’clock, and she slipped down to the pool area, relishing the alone time.

  Her mind was occupied with thoughts of Stephanie and Trey, and she had slept quite poorly, now feeling disconnected and a little frazzled. Even though she was able to speak to Ryan every day, and they were able to connect emotionally, there was something vital lacking in their interchanges. I think it’s because we don’t spend our time talking about our days, she decided. I don’t really want to burden her with the details of what’s going on with my cousins. I mean, she can’t do anything about it, and it seems like such a waste to spend the little time we have available talking about problems that neither one of us can fix. Still…not knowing everything about her day and not sharing all of mine is so different from what we usually do that it is really making me feel unsettled.

  She stepped into the warm water, her skin reacting with goose bumps as she did so. The day was going to be a warm one, but there was still a bit of chill in the air, and the 85-degree water felt soothing to her stressed body. Submerging herself fully, she shook her head to get the water out of her eyes and then began to loosen up. A few slow laps of each of her stokes had her feeling awake and energized, and she began to extend her body in the water, enjoying the tug and pull of her lats and traps as her back muscles powered her through the water.

  Nearing the end of the pool, she decided to work a little on her racing turns, her technique having severely eroded since she no longer swam regularly. The first one was more than a little sloppy; while her flip was good, she hadn’t twisted her body properly to return to her lane, and she wound up a few feet away from the line she was carving in the water.

  I bet this week is harder on her than it is on me, she reflected. She’s not only away from me, she’s separated from her whole support system, and my baby needs her family to keep her happy. I hope she’s gotten to know Jordan or some of the other women on the team better so she has someone to talk to down in Santa Cruz –although I haven’t seen much indication that Jordan is the sensitive chat kinda girl. Oh well, maybe Ryan can help her to learn how nice it is to be able to share your feelings openly. She’s the poster child for sharing, she thought, as a warm feelin
g settled in her stomach at the mere suggestion of being able to share all of her own thoughts with her partner very soon.

  As she executed her 35th racing turn, Jamie straightened her body to the fullest, cutting through the water as swiftly as possible. Her form had smoothed out, but she was not really concerned with it. Nor did she care about her time, which was actually quite good. Rather, she was trying to use Ryan’s technique of full immersion in a task to dispel her anxieties about her cousins

  It took 22 strokes to reach the end of the pool, one strong racing turn and another 22 strokes to the other end, and soon the only thing on her mind was "stroke, stroke, breathe, stroke, stroke, breathe." It had taken many laps, but she slowly began to enter that state of flow that Ryan seemed to achieve so easily. Thoughts of Stephanie and Trey and Adam and Carolyn and Skip and Sara all drifted away as she sliced through the warm water, concentrating only on her breathing and the cadence of her strokes.

  She began to feel lighter, both physically and emotionally, as she continued to lose herself in the experience, eventually becoming one with the water to achieve a kind of high that she had realized only a few times in her athletic endeavors.

  By her 50th lap she began to tire, and she slowed down a few laps later and turned onto her back to do a few lengths of a lazy backstroke.

  When she climbed out of the water, her mother was sitting in a lounge chair, sipping a cup of coffee. Catherine gave her daughter a bemused grin as she padded over to her chair. "Are you going out for the swim team or the golf team?" she teased.

  "Definitely golf," Jamie answered with a smile. "I hardly ever swim."

  "Really? You look so sleek in the water, like you are a natural swimmer. I guess it’s a good thing I married your father," she reflected. "No one in my family has one iota of athletic talent. Our best sports seem to be drinking and doing drugs," she added with a healthy dose of self-derision.

  Jamie patted her leg as she sat back completely in her chair. "Anyone can become an addict, Mom. You don’t have to be a Dunlop."