As her expression reverted to one of warmth, she turned and shared a small smile with her daughter. "Oh, I’m sure that was your intention, Laura," she murmured with obviously false sincerity. "Of course I’m gratified that you are so concerned about her. I’ll relay your good wishes. Yes, of course I’ll be at the board meeting on Monday. I’ll see you then."
After Catherine replaced the receiver onto the cradle, she sat absolutely still for a few minutes. She got to her feet and turned to a still-shaken Jamie and said, "I’ve just one question, Dear. Will you join me for a drink?"
A long silence passed between them as they sat in the same chairs Jamie and Marta had occupied earlier. The robotic pool cleaner was making quick work of the few leaves that had the temerity to spoil the pristine aqua waters of the large, deep pool, and Jamie spent a few minutes watching it, glad to have something to occupy her mind.
Marta had prepared a large tray that held decanters of vodka, gin, and scotch, sweet and plain soda, vermouth, and Campari. Jamie decided on Campari and soda, and Catherine echoed her choice, mentally extending the feeling of Italy when she took a sip.
"I had a Campari every afternoon at around this time during my trip," she said softly, a wistful look in her eyes.
"I bet part of you wishes you were still there," Jamie offered, deciding to break the ice.
Her mother turned and looked at her closely for a minute, then said, "Not in the least, Dear. It was a lovely surprise to see you when I walked in—I haven’t changed my mind."
Jamie was a bit nonplussed by the tone in her mother’s voice. For the first time in her life, her mother sounded…tired. There was some quality of resignation—almost of defeat—but the words themselves were gentle, welcoming.
"Are you…all right with this?" she asked, unsure of how to approach the topic.
"All right?" she said slowly, trying to decide what her reaction should be. "I don’t think that term would convey my feelings, no."
"What would, Mother?"
Catherine took another sip of her drink and set the glass on the table. "That’s difficult to say, Jamie. I would suppose that I could best sum up my feelings by saying that I’m far from surprised--and I’m deeply wounded."
"Wounded?" she asked in puzzlement, thinking that was an odd choice of words.
"Yes, Dear, I’m wounded. I tried to get you to be honest with me when I came to your house. It was clear to me then that something was going on, since I found Cassie’s original story too believable to be dismissed. I truly wish that you had told me then. It hurts to know that you lied to me, especially since I made it clear how important it was to me that you tell me the truth." The look on her face was still calm and her voice was cool and even. But Jamie could see a deep hurt reflected in those velvety eyes, and she knew that she was responsible for it.
She hung her head, unable to face her mother. She had never knowingly lied to her before that incident, and it still bothered her despite Ryan and her grandfather's reassurance that she was just protecting herself. "I’m sorry, Mother, I really am," she insisted. "But I couldn’t tell you then because I was in the midst of figuring it out for myself."
Catherine tilted her head to stare at her daughter for a moment. "Tell me more," she said softly.
The sun was obscured by a very large bank of clouds, and Jamie began to shiver, both from the cold and from her trepidation about revealing the intimate details of the journey of her sexual awakening.
"Let’s go inside," Catherine suggested. "You look chilled."
"Okay," Jamie agreed, glad for the break. She carried the tray into the house, deciding to take it into the living room for the inevitable refills.
Once they were settled, she began to speak. "I’ve had some notion that something was amiss in the way I felt about men for a very long time."
Her mother tilted her head in question, but did not comment.
"I didn’t tell you this, but last fall I took a class called, The Lesbian Experience. Jack and I had been engaged three months at the time, but I was so unsatisfied." She glanced at her mother’s concerned face and added, "Physically as well as emotionally."
Catherine nodded, encouraging Jamie to continue. She leaned over and refilled her glass, this time adding vodka to the mix.
"I met Ryan on the first day of class, and what started out as a friendship grew to be more and more. The day after Jack broke up with me, I realized that I was in love with her." Even though this was a hard thing to discuss, Jamie could not help but smile when she said these words. Her mother caught the look and reflected it, her smile erasing years from her face.
"That was a very, very hard time for me, Mother. I was so devastated by all of my conflicting emotions that I decided to get into therapy. My therapist and I worked on this issue non-stop through April, and it was only then that I revealed my feelings to Ryan. We decided to take things slowly—very slowly—so that I could get used to the way I felt. We waited until just three weeks ago to be together physically."
Catherine performed the simple math and recognized that her daughter had used the house in Pebble Beach as more than just a small vacation getaway. She knew it was small-minded, but a part of her was angry with Jamie for using their family retreat as a place to tryst. She tried to dismiss the thought, but her mind was assailed by images of her daughter in another woman’s arms.
Jamie did not notice her look of consternation, since she continued, "I was unwilling to tell anyone until I was absolutely sure that this was right for me, Mother. When you asked me if I was involved with Ryan, I just couldn’t be honest with you."
"Well, technically, you could have been," Catherine corrected, "but you obviously did not feel that I would be supportive. I must bear the responsibility for that." Her eyes were dark, and she suddenly looked every one of her 41 years. "I have a question about all of this, Jamie. I know you’re justifiably angry with her, but I should tell you that Cassie told Laura about your attempts to get back with Jack. How does that fit into this equation?"
Jamie stood and walked around the elegantly decorated room for a few minutes. She picked up various items and examined them as she considered the question. A picture of the three of them caught her eye and she held it so that her mother could see it. "I was afraid," she said quietly. "I was afraid that I couldn’t have this if I admitted who I really was."
Catherine got up and stood next to her daughter. She placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and asked, "I don’t understand your point, Jamie. What were you afraid of?"
Jamie blew out a breath and said, "It’s so much easier to be straight, Mother! I was ready to jump into a relationship with Ryan, but I pulled back at the last minute. I thought I would be willing to have a relationship with a man even if it wasn’t what I really wanted, because it would be so much easier!"
"But you couldn’t do it?" she asked carefully.
"No, I couldn’t. When Jack made love to me I could only see Ryan’s face, and once I acknowledged that, I just couldn’t go on with the charade."
"I’m sorry, Jamie," Catherine said softly. "And I’m sorry this has been so hard for you."
"But it’s not now!" she said with genuine enthusiasm. "Once I made the decision it’s been so freeing! I’m amazed at how marvelous I really feel, Mother. I swear I’ve never felt this wonderful in my whole life!"
"I’m happy for that," Catherine said with a small smile as she walked back to the sofa. "I just...I just wish that you felt that you could work out your issues with us, rather than just inform us of them."
Jamie had a very strong suspicion that her mother’s wish was rather fanciful, so she asked, "Is that really what you want, Mother? Would you really want me to tell you I was attracted to Ryan if it was just a passing interest?"
Catherine considered this scenario for a moment, pursing her lips as she tried to determine how she felt. "I’m not sure, Jamie. There is a part of me that would like to help you figure things out, but I will admit that it might be difficult for m
e to help you struggle through your sexual feelings. I suppose that talking to a professional was the best choice."
"I just didn’t think that people who loved me could be objective about this," Jamie said, trying to convince her mother that she was not trying to shut her out.
"Even though I admit that I’m not objective, I would hope that I could listen to you without trying to influence you too strongly. I would really love it if you would at least try to talk to me before you make any major life choices, Jamie."
"Maybe I will be able to in the future," she offered "I would be happy to try to be more open with you about things in my life, if you would really like me to."
"I would, dear. As I told you at your home, I wish that we were closer. I just feel like you’re slipping away from us, Honey, and it scares me." Tears began to slide down Catherine’s patrician features, and Jamie stared at her for a moment, paralyzed with indecision. She had never seen her mother cry, and she was confused as to how she should react. She decided to just go with her feelings, so she moved closer and put her arms around her mother and held her close. Catherine was tense at first, but she soon loosened up and gratefully returned the hug. She clung to her daughter tightly, her head on her shoulder, just letting the tears come.
After a long while, she sat up and looked for a tissue. Jamie got up and brought the box over to her, watching as Catherine took a few, wiped her eyes, blew her nose, then looked up at Jamie and said with a small smile, "That felt strangely good."
"I’ve cried more this past year than I did all of my previous years put together," she conceded. "And you’re right, it does feel strangely good."
Catherine placed her hand on her daughter’s cheek and trailed her fingers down her face in a loving way. "Why have you cried so much?" she asked softly.
Jamie considered the question for just a moment. "Partly because of my breakup with Jack," she revealed, "but mostly because I feel so much with Ryan. Everything is more vivid, Mother. When I’m sad, I’m really sad. When I’m upset, I’m terrifically upset. Yet, I’m happier than I’ve ever been, Mother," she insisted. "No matter what the emotion is, it’s indescribably intense!"
"It sounds like opera," she said softly.
Jamie had to laugh at this characterization, but she also had to admit that it was accurate. "I guess you’re right," she admitted. "Everything is brighter and louder and more emotion filled."
"That’s because you’re really in love," Catherine said softly. "That’s what every opera is about."
Jamie leaned against her mother and let her wrap her arms around her. "You understand," she said as her tears began to flow. "You really understand."
"I’ve been in love myself," she whispered into her ear.
They sat that way for a long time, holding each other for the first time in years. The feeling was strange for Catherine, who felt rather exposed emotionally. But she fought with herself to stay connected to her daughter, and after a few minutes she actually felt some portion of her emotional self-protection diminish as she opened her heart to her only child. Jamie finally sat up and drained the rest of her drink. Her mother did the same and mixed two more. Jamie laughed wryly and observed, "We’ll be drunk when Daddy gets home."
Catherine gave her a surprisingly rakish grin and laughed. "He can get drunk on his own time. This is for women only."
Hearing her mother’s usually hidden sense of humor surface gave Jamie much more confidence. Somewhere deep in her soul she had the calming thought that everything would eventually be all right with her mother—perhaps even better than things had been before.
After they sat for a few more minutes, she asked, "Don't you have any questions for me?"
"Thousands," Catherine laughed softly, shaking her head a bit. "But I’ll let your father run through his list first. You did tell him earlier, didn’t you?"
"Yes. I wanted to tell you separately so that you could each have your own reaction."
With a slight tilt of her head, Catherine asked, "Did it go all right?"
Jamie’s brow furrowed a bit and she considered the question for just a minute. "Yes, I suppose it did. Daddy started to act like I was on the witness stand," she observed. "But he calmed down and seemed okay by the time he left."
A sardonic smile crossed Catherine’s face. "He’s a man and he’s a lawyer. That’s a tough combination when you’re talking about feelings."
"I suppose," Jamie agreed. "You don’t have to let him ask all the questions, though, Mother. I’d be happy to tell you anything that you wish to know."
"I do have questions, Jamie, but none that can’t wait. I would like to finally meet the woman who has captured my daughter’s heart, but other than that, there’s no rush."
"Are you really okay with the fact that I’m with a woman? I thought it would be harder for you."
Catherine gave that a moment’s thought. Shaking her head softly she admitted, "I would not say that I’m ‘okay’ with it, no. It’s not what I would choose for you, Dear, but I’m coming to realize that my vote doesn’t carry much weight any longer."
Jamie started to interrupt, but her mother placed a hand on her arm and continued. "You’re an adult now, Dear. What little influence I had on forming your personality and character is in the past now. You need to follow your own heart."
A tear slid down Jamie’s cheek and she struggled with her emotions. She was so overwhelmingly grateful for this simple acknowledgment that she wanted to throw her arms around her mother and hug her. But even though they had done just moments before, she felt reluctant to do it again. She honestly thought that they had pushed their boundaries far enough for one day, so she merely patted her mother’s hand. "Thank you, Mother," she whispered. "I can’t tell you how good that makes me feel. It’s okay with me that you don’t embrace this part of me immediately. It’s just nice that you aren’t put off by it."
"I have so many gay friends and acquaintances that homosexuality really doesn’t have much of a negative connotation for me any more," Catherine admitted. "The gay men that I know seem just as happy about their sexual orientation as I do about mine. This is a tough world, Jamie. If you can find someone to help you hold the darkness at bay, you have my blessing."
Unable to contain her natural exuberance for another minute, Jamie grasped her mother’s hand and squeezed it gently. "That’s such a perfect way to put it, Mother. That’s just what it’s like with Ryan! I feel safe! I feel like things can’t hurt me when we’re together. Does that make any sense?"
"Perfect," she agreed, sharing a smile with her beaming daughter.
Just then the front door opened and Jim strode through the door. He was every inch the confident, high-powered attorney now, and Jamie immediately recognized that this meant nothing but trouble. "I’ve figured out what was wrong with this whole thing," he stated proudly.
"What’s that, dear?" Catherine asked absently as she drained her drink. Jamie was shocked beyond words that neither of her parents even bothered to greet each other. They had been apart for three weeks now, but they acted as though Jim had just stepped out to get the mail. She was also nonplussed to see that her mother’s usual cool demeanor had descended like a shroud, and wondered if it was only her father’s return that had caused it.
"I’m talking to my daughter as though she were to be married. She’s talking about everlasting love, and commitment, and I haven’t really even spoken to this person. You would never do that with a man, Jamie. You’re trying to get the sanction of our approval, but you don't even have the gumption to bring this woman here to face us. How are we supposed to react?"
"This is more about me than it is about Ryan," she said defensively.
"So tell me," he said as he went for the kill, "if you were not in love with Ryan, would you be actively searching for another woman? Are you a lesbian?"
I hate it when you’re right, Poppa. "I’m not comfortable answering that question," she said shakily.
He sensed her weakness and continued
his line of questioning. "Jamie, this is a major change in your life and your identity. It is important for us to know the ramifications of this. Are you a lesbian, or just in love with Ryan?"
She swallowed hard and answered, "I can only say that I’m in love with Ryan."
"Then how can you say this isn’t about her?" he crowed. "This is primarily about her!"
"I disagree, Daddy, but I can see that you don’t want to give in on that point. So let’s say that it is; what do you want to do about it?"
"I want her to come down here and answer my questions. I want to know who this woman is, Jamie. I can’t give you my approval until I’ve spent time with her."
Jamie knew that bringing Ryan down here would be like throwing a lamb into a den of wolves, so she tried to talk her way out of it. "I’m sure that Ryan would like to come down to spend some time with you, but I think we should work out some of our issues first."
"Jamie," he said firmly, "I have only one issue at this point. I want to sit down with Ryan and get to know her a little bit. If you’re unwilling to have her come today, have her come tomorrow, or even to my office on Monday."
None of those options sounded much better, and she reasoned that Ryan would probably rather get it over with. "I’ll call her and see if she can come down," she said as she rose to go to her room for a little privacy.
Ryan answered the page in less than three minutes. "Hi, Baby," Jamie said rather lethargically.
"Are you okay?" the anxious voice responded, her panting indicating that she was a bit winded.
"Yeah, it’s been hard with my father, but incredibly easy with mother. You were right again--it’s never what you think it’s going to be."
"So are you coming home?"
Jamie had a hard time hearing her over the din. "Where are you?"
"I’m playing basketball with Conor and Brendan and Kevin and Donal and Niall. We’ve been playing three on three for hours. We’re killing ‘em," she laughed as Jamie heard the ball bouncing nearly inside the phone. "They miss you," she said with another laugh, pushing Conor away from the pay phone she was using.
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