"How'd you know it was me?" Ryan asked.
"You have a distinctive ring. I can pick it out from among thousands. Now, what's up? I had to sneak out of class to answer the phone."
"Sorry to bother you, but I'm about to spend a lot of money and I wanted to check with you before I did so."
"Ryan," Jamie said in a warning tone, "you know how I feel about this. We have about $25,000 in our checking account. As long as you leave a couple thousand dollars to cover outstanding checks, you can spend every dime. You not only don't need my permission, you don't need to inform me."
There was a long silence as Ryan tried to digest this information. "That's probably never gonna happen, but I appreciate that you trust me that much."
"I trust you with my life, Ryan. Now let me get back to class. Have fun!" She hung up before Ryan could utter another word, the tall woman staring at the phone in her hand for a long while.
When Ryan came home from practice that night, Jamie was in the kitchen, busily making dinner. "Hi," she smiled when Ryan entered. "How was your day?"
"Good," Ryan said, giving her a kiss. "Yours?"
Jamie proceeded to tell her about a funny little thing that happened at golf practice, all of the details of her day's classes, and every other bit of minutia that she felt compelled to share with her partner. By the time she was finished, dinner was ready and Ryan spent a moment setting the table. As usual, two additional hungry mouths miraculously appeared, Jordan and Mia sitting down before Jamie could get the food on the table.
"Long time no see," Ryan drawled, having left Jordan's side not twenty minutes before.
"We'll clean up?" the blonde offered, giving Ryan a winning smile.
"It's a deal," the tall brunette decided, looking forward to a very early night in bed to make up for the previous evening.
Leaving Jordan and Mia to their tasks, the pair went up to bed at 8:30, Ryan not even feigning an attempt at studying. She was stripping out of her clothes on the way up the stairs and had her T-shirt and bra off by the time she crossed the threshold.
Jamie was chuckling at her exaggerated attempts to get into bed quickly, and as Ryan went to brush her teeth she asked, "You seemed quiet at dinner, Honey. Everything okay?"
"Yeth," the tall woman replied, her mouth full of toothpaste. She finished up quickly and came back into the room, shucking her pants as she walked. When she climbed into bed, she rolled onto her side and rested her head upon her arm. "I uh…had a little revelation today," she said, her eyes unfocused as she stared at a spot on the wall.
"Tell me," Jamie urged, softly stroking her bare side.
"It's about the money," Ryan said. "I got a taste of what having access to this kind of money is going to mean. It's weird, Hon. I'm still a little numb."
"Ryan," Jamie soothed, "you don't need to tell me how you spend our money, but I'm very interested in how you feel about this. Come on…tell me. What happened today?"
Ryan rolled onto her back and rested her head in her joined hands, letting out a long sigh as she related, "I was at the airport, thinking about my family. It dawned on me that none of this would have been possible without your…our money," she corrected herself. "I thought about the little Irish town my family lives in, and it dawned on me that I could help Da and Aunt Maeve have a nice little party."
She looked at Jamie and said, "I've never really talked about their situation, Honey, but my grandparents barely get by. I'm sure my Granny hasn't bought a new dress in ten years. Da has tried to give them money over the years, but Granny won't take it. I get the impression that she takes a little from Aunt Maeve and Moira, but that's about it." She laughed wryly and added, "My Uncle Eamon teaches at the national school, and I bet he doesn't make the equivalent of $20,000 American. They're the last people who should be trying to support my grandparents."
"How do your grandparents support themselves?" Jamie asked.
"My grandfather was a self-employed fisherman," she answered. "He never made much, but they did all right. Their needs are very simple, so it wasn't too bad when he was working. Ireland has an Old Age Pension, but when my grandfather was working he wasn't covered by social insurance, so he didn't qualify. The government added a special provision for people in his situation, and he gets a pension now, but I think it's only about 80 Irish pounds a week."
"How much is that, Honey?"
"With the current exchange rate that would be about ninety dollars," Ryan mused. "In essence, they live on less than $5,000 a year." She shook her head and said, "It dawned on me today that I could help make the wedding nice and help my grandparents a little in the bargain." She looked up at Jamie and said, "It's a weird feeling. Really weird."
Jamie's mind was still reeling over the fact that Ryan's grandparents lived on such a meager sum, and she patted her lover absently, trying to imagine how it would feel to not be able to afford the simplest luxuries. "What did you decide to do, Honey? We can take my distribution and send them as much money as you want."
Ryan smiled and gently stroked her partner's arm. "I don't think that would go over well, Love. My granny is more hard-headed about accepting money than I am…if you can imagine that," she said, while rolling her eyes. "I decided to do an end-around, so I called my Aunt Moira and we decided that she'd take the money I sent and offer to pay for a reception in the local pub. She said she'd order some nice flowers for the church, and take my grandparents out and buy them each something nice to wear." Ryan smiled fondly as she said, "My grandfather's only suit is so shiny that it looks like it's made out of spandex!"
Scooting across the bed, Jamie cuddled up next to her partner and said, "How do you feel about doing that?"
Ryan let out a long breath and said, "It feels really good. Scary good, to be honest. Making the day a little nicer for my…parents," she said, experimenting with the word for the first time, "feels awfully good."
"Wow," Jamie said softly, looking up into Ryan's deep blue eyes, "It sounds funny to hear you refer to them like that."
"Yeah," Ryan said. "I've been trying to determine what feels right…you know? I mean, after Saturday, she's not really just my aunt. I refuse to refer to them as 'my father and my aunt,'" she declared, a look of distaste on her face, "but I'm not sure what does feel right."
"It will come to you. Don't rush it. It does make sense to refer to them as your parents, though, at least when you're speaking to people who don't know them well. Maeve has been a mother to you, Ryan, and it's nice to acknowledge that."
"I know," she said softly. "I just can't call her 'Mom,' Jamie. It doesn't feel right, and I don't think she'd even like it."
"Don't push it. You'll know what feels comfortable, and that's what you'll do." She had been softly stroking Ryan's back and felt her start to drift off. She tilted her head up and placed a gentle kiss on the rose-colored lips, surprised when Ryan's eyes opened fully and the kiss was returned.
"Thank you for letting me send that money, Jamie. It means a lot to me," she murmured as she wrapped her arms tightly around the smaller woman and fell into a contented sleep almost immediately.
Friday was Jamie's easy day at school, and after golf practice she decided to balance their checkbook, a task that she was becoming more and more comfortable with. She opened the check register and saw the precise handwriting from Ryan's entry of the day before. $5,000, she mused. My baby acted as though she had written a check as big as the national debt. We've got to find a way to provide for her grandparents on a routine basis, she decided. I'll not have my sweetheart's aged grandparents living on next to nothing!
Jamie was working away at her desk when Maeve called with a progress report, "My goodness, Jamie, I've made more decisions and called more people today than I can ever remember!"
"How's everything going?" she asked, Maeve's excitement bubbling over to infect her, too.
"Just lovely," she said happily. "I was so excited about seeing Martin that I nearly burst!"
"Can I speak with him?" Ja
mie asked.
"He's not here, Dear. The curate wanted to talk to him about the wedding, so I came back home to make more phone calls."
"How's he doing? Ryan says he was acting more like Caitlin than himself," Jamie revealed. "She said she didn't think he even needed the airplane to get him across the Atlantic."
"He certainly does seem excited," she admitted. "This is all turning out so well, Jamie. Our curate pulled some strings and helped get everything organized. I think Mam helped convince him of a few things," she laughed. "Moira and I took Mam and Da shopping today, and she bought them both the most lovely things! I don't know how she afforded it, but she insisted." She took a breath, her words spilling out so fast that she was hard to understand. "Did I tell you she's arranged for a luncheon for everyone at the pub after the ceremony? My goodness, Jamie, I don't know when I've been so excited! This is the wedding I dreamt of as a girl!"
"Don't forget to take pictures for us, Maeve. We want to see every little detail."
"I brought my little camera, Honey. I'll assign Cormac to that job. We'll do our best."
"Well, you'd better wander over to church to pick up your fiancé, Maeve. You don't want to keep him waiting."
"I wouldn't dream of letting that adorable man wait for me, Jamie. Thanks so much for everything. If it wasn't for you and your mother, none of this would have happened."
"Don't mention it," Jamie insisted. "If it wasn't for Martin and your influence I wouldn't have the wonderful partner that I have. I just hope you're as happy as we are, Maeve. You truly deserve it."
"Thank you, Jamie," she sniffed. "I'd better go now. I've got to go fetch my Marty."
"We love you, Maeve," Jamie said softly. "We wish you all the happiness in the world."
"Bye," the older woman said, her voice choked with tears.
After the volleyball team played a very successful match against Arizona on Saturday night, Jamie and Mia stood near the locker room, waiting for their dates. The team usually had a quick meeting after home games-just a chance for Coach Placer to compliment them on their play and make a few tactful suggestions where needed. No one showered after the match, which Jamie found very strange. Most of the women didn't even venture into the locker room; they just exchanged their sweaty uniforms for Tshirts and their warm-ups, which most of them left in the meeting room during the game.
As the pair waited, a legion of young fans tried to get as close to the athletes as possible, pushing and elbowing each other to be near the spot where the women exited.
Ryan and Jordan were among the first to leave, each toting her enormous gym bag on her shoulder. Ryan immediately handed her bag to Jamie, who gave her a kiss on the cheek as a reward for her excellent play. Jordan gave Mia a shy smile and the smaller woman held her hand out and accepted her bag also. Both players then went into the large, unstructured half of the gym and began signing autographs. Tonight the team had distributed posters with very flattering photos of Jordan and Ryan prominently featured, both because of their play and because they were the only seniors on the team.
The girls who sought them out were anywhere from eight to sixteen years old, and many of them wore Tshirts and sweats that identified them as members of a school or club volleyball team. In fact, many of them came to the game as part of a team, with their coaches hovering around them trying to keep track of the kids in the crowd.
Jamie couldn't help eavesdropping on one pair of girls, who were nearly giddy when they walked away with autographs from their heroes. "Ryan's so tall!" one of them said, in the cross between a scream and a whisper that only pre-teens could manage.
"Jordan's so pretty!" the other exclaimed.
"They're both really nice," Jamie said, catching the girls' attention.
"Do you know 'em?" the bolder of the pair asked, her eyes wide.
Jamie held up the gym bag, with "O'Flaherty" embroidered on the side. "Quite well," she said, smiling impishly.
Mia hefted her bag, too, displaying the "Ericsson" on her burden.
The girls looked at each other, their eyes wide, then emitted twin screams and ran out the door, laughing the whole way.
"My God, were we that weird only ten years ago?" Jamie laughed.
"I'm that weird now," Mia said rather dreamily. "I'm kinda stoked just to be holding her gym bag."
Jamie gave her a look and said, "I've never seen you like this about anybody. You're positively smitten!"
"Oh, I am," Mia agreed. "Maybe it's because I have to work so hard. But whatever it is, I'm absolutely goofy for her."
"I was a little surprised to see that she went home last night," Jamie said. "What's up with that?"
Letting out a wry laugh, Mia said, "We've been staying up most of the night for a month, James! She's on her last legs! Besides, I know everything about her by now. I could write her biography at this point! No, we don't need any more all-night talks. Now, we just need to get busy and make love."
"Any progress?"
"No, as a matter of fact. We actually seem to be doing less, rather than more. I'm going to take her home and push the envelope a little tonight. I don't want to lose patience with her, but I also don't want to hang on forever if she doesn't want to keep moving forward."
Slipping an arm around her shoulder, Jamie said, "I hope you hang in there, Mia. She's really pretty special."
They both gazed at the lanky woman, who was now lying on her stomach on the gym floor signing autographs for the line of kids who waited patiently, posters and pens in hand. Ryan was lying right next to her, adding her signature as soon as Jordan finished. Jordan spotted Heather standing around, looking a little lost, and she called her over and ordered her to hit the floor and start signing. The shy freshman did as she was asked, the kids now making over her as well.
Watching the scene unfold, Mia sighed and said, "She really is special, Jamie, and one of her best traits is that she doesn't know how special she is."
As soon as they arrived home, Ryan grabbed a big bottle of sports drink and she and Jamie went to bed. They had only been gone a few minutes when Mia leaned against Jordan and wrapped her in a hug. "You played so well tonight. It was honestly fascinating to watch you."
"Thanks. I felt good about tonight, to tell you the truth. I worked my ass off."
As Mia released her hold Jordan got a whiff of herself and said, "Wow…I smell like I worked my ass off. I should go home, take a hot shower, and get to bed."
"You know," Mia said, trying to sound casual, "I have a really nice shower here. My bed's not bad either. Wanna see?"
"Uuhhhhhh." Jordan looked like she didn't know whether to run for the shower or the hills, but Mia didn't try to influence her. She wanted her to make up her own mind, and after a minute she did so. "I'd like the shower," she decided. "We'll see about the bed later."
"Good deal," Mia smiled, taking her hand to lead her upstairs. While Jordan was in the shower, Mia paced around the room trying to decide if she should try to set a mood or just act like this was an everyday occurrence. She finally decided to go for it, then turned off the overhead lights and lit a profusion of candles, their flames flickering against the darkened ceiling.
A muffled voice came from the bathroom, "I forgot my gym bag, will you get it for me?"
"Uh…sure," Mia said, instead, handing her friend a blue silk robe. Jordan's hand reached out, and she accepted the offering without comment, then emerged a minute later, looking magnificent to Mia's appreciative eyes. She had washed her hair and it was wrapped in a white towel, showing off her exquisite bone structure even more distinctly than usual. The short robe highlighted her pale blue eyes, and her cheeks glowed from the warm water. She smelled fantastic, having used some of Mia's favorite freesia shower gel.
"Blow dryer?" she asked, her voice a little tight with tension, her blue eyes darting nervously about the room.
Mia indicated her desk chair and said, "Sit. I'll do it for you."
Jordan raised an eyebrow but complied, sitting stiff
ly on the edge of the chair while Mia grabbed a wide-toothed comb that Jordan extended towards her. She worked the comb gently through the thick strands, being careful not to pull too hard. She had never combed another woman's hair before, and she found herself fascinated with the thick, straight tresses. Actually, Mia had technically never combed her own hair. Her curls did not respond well to any attempts at order, so she usually just fluffed her fingers through them to provide some loose organization. When the tangles were combed through, the brunette grasped the blow dryer and worked the warm air through the hair, running her fingers along Jordan's scalp and then letting them slide through the silky tresses. It only took a few minutes to dry the golden locks.
It was clear that Jordan was nervous, but she seemed willing to go where Mia was leading her, giving the smaller woman hope that they would finally make some progress. As Mia continued to touch her gently, Jordan's body grew more and more relaxed, eventually feeling pliable and receptive as Mia started to massage her shoulders a little bit.
"It's getting dry out now that it's fall. Can I put some lotion on you?" she asked softly, breaking the silence. Jordan's head rested comfortably against her hip.
She could actually see Jordan swallow, but to her satisfaction, the tall woman slid the robe from her shoulders, clasping some of the fabric to her breasts, but exposing her back and shoulders to Mia's touch. A massive sigh escaped Jordan's lips as Mia's hands began to work the freesia-scented body lotion into her skin, her fingers gliding over the dips and swells of muscle. "My God, but you have a beautiful back," Mia whispered as Jordan closed her eyes and leaned hard into the touch. "Such soft skin…it's like silk."
"Y…your hands…feel good." The blonde grimaced as she heard the nearly inarticulate sentence escape her mouth. She had so much to say-to share with Mia, but she knew that it would remain locked inside. So much emotion was threatening to burst forth, that she was terrified of allowing the floodgates to open even a tiny bit.
Intentions - SF9 Page 22
