"How many people live there?"
"Oh, not more than 700," she advised. "It's just big enough for one pub, one shop for necessities, and of course a church."
"A town that small can support a church?" Jamie gaped.
"Oh, certainly," she said. "There are smaller villages nearby and little forks in the road with a few more people to add to the roster. Since nearly everyone is some degree of Catholic, it's actually necessary to have a church. It's a very small affair, though," she admitted. "The big church is in Ballina, and that's where the parish priest, Father McConnell, is. Father Kearney is the curate for our little church. He's the sweetest young man, didn't you think, Martin?"
"He was very nice," Martin agreed. "Even though he looked like he hadn't started to shave yet!"
"Mam says he was just ordained last June. He said we were just his fifth wedding!"
"I'm really happy it went so well," Ryan said. "But you'd better get to bed soon. Da, you have to work tomorrow, don't you?"
"Ahh, don't remind me," he scowled. "I want to stay home and just moon over my beloved half-bride."
"That's a rather odd term, but I suppose it fits," Maeve agreed happily. "I'll make you a deal, Martin. Be a good man and go to work, and I'll bring you a nice lunch. We can walk over to Mission Dolores and have a little picnic."
"You're really not going to stay overnight?" Conor asked.
"Of course not," Martin said indignantly. "Weren't you paying attention, boy? We said we're not married yet."
"It's close enough, Da," he reasoned.
"Not all of us take the laws of the faith so lightly, Conor," he said pointedly.
"Boy, I'm glad I don't have any morals," Conor mused. "That is brutal!"
They returned home at nine o'clock, and Ryan was puzzled to see that nothing in the house had been disturbed: the keys were right where they had been that morning, the note hadn't been moved, there were eight messages on the machine, and Mia's pager was dancing across the table. Jamie hit the message button on the answering machine and heard six messages from Mia's mom, as well as two from her brother, each one a little more perturbed. Jamie checked the pager and saw Mia's parents' number keyed in. "Honey, do you think they're even up there?" she asked, casting a glance at the stairs.
"How could they not be?" Ryan asked. "Jordan can't get into her apartment without her keys, and Mia never leaves without her pager. They've got to be here."
Jamie poked her head into the kitchen and saw that there was not a single thing out of place-no glasses in the sink, no dirty plates piled up on the counter. She took a look in the refrigerator and saw that all of the leftovers from the night before were still in their containers. "Honey," Jamie said, now a little worried, "they didn't eat or drink anything all day. We have to check on them."
"Okay," Ryan said, giving her partner a raised-eyebrow smile. "Check on them."
"Um…I thought maybe you could check on them," the smaller woman hinted.
"Nope. I've stayed in bed for 24 hours plenty of times. It's no big deal."
Jamie scowled at her and said, "I don't know what her mom wanted, but she sounded pissed, didn't she?"
"Yeah, a little, I guess," Ryan admitted.
The phone rang again, and Jamie answered, "Oh, hi, Mrs. Christopher. Yeah, it's Jamie. I'm good." She was rolling her eyes at Ryan the entire time, finally saying, "I just got home, and I'm not sure if she's here. I'll go check and have her call you, okay?" Her face dropped as she said, "No, it's okay, you can hold on. Be right back."
She scowled at Ryan again and ran up the stairs, pressing her ear against the door to determine if there was any sound coming from the space. When she failed to detect any movement she knocked lightly, but didn't hear any response. A louder knock still produced nothing, so she shrugged her shoulders and ran back down. "No, she's not here, Mrs. Christopher. She forgot her pager. It's lying here on the table, so that's why she hasn't called you back. Yes, she could drive a saint to drink sometimes," she chuckled. "Okay, I'll tell her, bye."
"Weird," Jamie said as she gazed at her partner. "Where in the hell do you think they are?"
Ryan gave her a frown and marched upstairs. Not bothering to knock, she opened the door to find Jordan, stark naked, her body nestled between Mia's legs, head resting upon her thigh. Her long legs were hanging off the end of the bed, the top sheet and comforter thrown to the floor, along with all of the pillows. An empty quart of Gatorade lay on top of the discarded bedding, obviously the only nourishment the pair had enjoyed. She walked over to them and lightly touched Jordan's back, shaking her head when she felt how chilled her skin was.
Ryan grasped the blonde's shoulder and gave it a shake, repeating the movement with a little more force when she didn't respond immediately. Jordan finally let out an unhappy whimper, but Ryan persisted and finally got one blue eye to open. "Time to move upstairs," Ryan whispered.
The full lips quirked into a lazy grin, and she started to shimmy up the bed. She dropped her head onto the pillow that Ryan had put into place, but now Mia's head was several inches below hers. Ryan started to move over to the other side of the bed to put a pillow under her head, but Jordan handled the situation by snaking her long arms around her and tugging her into place-curled up against her side, with Jordan's shoulder as a perfectly acceptable pillow substitute.
Ryan unfurled the sheet over their bodies and quickly tucked it in, then added the light blanket, smiling to herself when Jordan made a vague kissing sound in her direction. "I love you too," she whispered before tiptoeing out of the room.
As she closed the door, she nearly ran into Jamie, who was lurking just outside.
"Are they okay?" the smaller woman asked.
"They appear to be just fine…exhausted, but fine."
"Are they awake?" Jamie asked, having heard no speech.
"Nope. Well, Jordan was semi-conscious, but Mia's dead to the world. Even without verbal confirmation, though, I do believe that our little Jordan lost her virtue last night…and this morning…and this afternoon…and this evening…"
The excitement of the weekend caught up to both of the women, and Ryan overslept for the first time in ages. She didn't even have time for a bit of breakfast before class, running down the stairs at full tilt…then screeching to a halt at the passionate goodbye being said in the entryway.
Mia was wearing a blue silk robe, and Jordan had on her warm-ups, the only clothes she had brought with her on Saturday. Their arms were locked tightly around each other, their mouths so firmly glued to each other that they were practically fused. Ryan tiptoed around them, grabbing her book bag from the spot she had dropped it on Friday, nary a book having left the cozy nylon confines the entire weekend.
She secured the bag onto her back and tried to pass by the new lovers, stopping abruptly when Jordan's hand reached out and grabbed her jacket as she passed. "Wait for me," the tall blonde murmured, her lips just far enough away from Mia's to be able to speak.
Ryan rolled her eyes and walked across the porch slowly, waiting for Jordan with as much patience as she could muster. The blonde started to pull away, Mia still hanging on tenaciously as Jordan backed up. By the time they reached the stone steps, Mia was bending over, trying to hold on for yet another tender buss. Jordan reached out to gently break the suction. "Gotta go," she whispered. "See you…tonight?"
"Oh yeah," Mia drawled sensuously, crossing her arms across her chest to hold her robe closed. "I've got plans for you."
Blowing the curly-haired brunette a kiss, Jordan practically skipped down the sidewalk, catching up with Ryan as they reached the street. "Have a nice weekend?" the smirking brunette asked.
Jordan shot her a goofy-looking grin, then launched into a set of three cartwheels, finishing up with a neatly tucked somersault, landing gently on her feet, a laugh bubbling up from her chest. "Why wasn't I informed of how absolutely fabulous it feels to make love?" she asked, sticking her arms out and turning in a tight circle, intentionally trying to m
ake herself dizzy.
"I don't remember you asking my opinion," Ryan smiled, slinging an arm around the happy blonde's shoulders. "I would have given you my enthusiastic endorsement."
"It's not just the physical sensations, Ryan," Jordan said earnestly. "It's…God, I don't even know what it is! It's looking into her eyes when you're touching her, and knowing that you're the one who put that adorable smile on her face."
Ryan just smiled at her friend, knowing exactly what she was talking about, but not feeling the need to give her any feedback. Jordan had grown so animated that she was running backwards while she spoke, trying to make sure that Ryan understood the importance of her point. "Jesus, Ryan, I had no idea it would feel like this! I thought it would be about what you did and how you did it…but it's not! It's about how you feel, and how you make the other person feel," she decided, sure that she had an insight into this mystery that few others understood.
"It is, Jordan," Ryan agreed, unable to keep the wide grin from her face. "It's all about feeling if you do it with the right person." She cocked her head a bit and asked, "So, did you do okay um…technically? You said you were worried about having to learn on the job."
Jordan looked at her with an amazed expression, obviously trying to come to terms with her feelings. "I was horrible!" she laughed. "I didn't have any idea of what to do, or how to do it, but Mia was so wonderful! She was right there for me, helping me to get over my nervousness …just making me feel wonderful. I got better as the weekend went along," Jordan smiled, "but I finally realized that it doesn't matter. You just have to show her how you feel, and everything works out okay. Isn't that weird?" she asked, still a little dumbfounded.
"Weird, but true," Ryan nodded. "All true."
"I kinda thought that I'd have to act like a guy-you know?" she commented, cocking her head quizzically. Ryan's eyes widened, and the surprise on her face made Jordan blush fiercely. "I know I'm a total dunce, Ryan, but you always hear guys talking about how big they are and how long they can last…I guess I thought that was the important thing-like there was some technique to pleasing a woman that I wouldn't be able to master."
"Not true," Ryan agreed. "Guys would do a hell of a lot better if they could understand that. Penis size doesn't matter…heck, I don't have a penis at all, and I've never had any complaints," she laughed. "It's not about equipment-it's about connecting emotionally."
"Yes! Yes! That's it!" Jordan cried, launching into another cartwheel. "It's about connecting emotionally! Too true!"
Ryan smiled at her friend's antics, having never seen Jordan act so free or jubilant. A thought flittered through her mind, and she spent a moment examining it. It took me until I fell in love with Jamie to understand what Jordan's talking about. Is she just gifted, or is this little fling a lot more than a little fling?
"Hey, James? Is that you?" Mia called out when she heard someone walking down the hall.
"Yeah," Jamie replied. She entered Mia's room and immediately walked to the window, throwing it open to get a little air circulating. "I don't even want to tell you what this place smells like," she laughed.
"I bet it smells like twenty-four hours of some of the best sex I've ever had," Mia mused lazily. She was stretched out in bed, obviously naked under the sheet, her arms tossed casually over her head.
"Really?" Jamie asked, dying to learn some details. "I thought it would be kinda rough, what with her not having any experience."
"Well, technically, on a scale of one to ten, I'd honestly have to give her a negative six," Mia laughed. "She was so nervous on Saturday night that she must have lost five pounds just from shivering! She acted like she was lying on a bed of snow, Jamie! Seriously!"
"Okay…so where did the great sex come in?"
Mia looked up at her friend with a slightly puzzled gaze. "It's hard to say, to be honest. It felt so wonderful to be with her that way, Jamie. She was so nervous, and so hesitant, but the trust in her eyes just took my breath away." She shook her head as she said, "She was so tender and gentle with me, like nothing I've ever experienced before. She didn't just focus on making me come either…although she took instruction well," she added with a smirk. "I feel like I saw what's in her heart, James. I don't know how else to say it…I felt like I saw her heart."
Smiling at her friend, Jamie admitted, "I know how that feels, Honey. It's really something, isn't it?"
"It's the best, James. She holds me like I'm some fragile object that she treasures…I've never felt like that before."
Jamie approached the bed and gave her friend a hug, adding a kiss as she pulled away. "Everyone should feel like that, Mia. That's why they call it making love."
"I don't like this, Ryan," Jamie murmured into the navy blue nylon jacket that covered her partner's chest.
"I don't like it either, but it's really okay. As a matter of fact, I would prefer that you didn't come to the game tonight."
"But I've never missed one of your games if I could get to it," she protested.
"I know, but you said yourself that you can't afford the time. Even though San Jose isn't far, it would take at least five hours out of your evening, and with your accounting mid-term tomorrow, you really can't spend that much time."
"Will your family be there?" she asked as her resolve began to weaken.
"No. Da has to work, Rory's got a gig, and I told Conor not to come. He gets up so early that it's not fair to expect him to come down for every game. Besides, the whole clan is going to make an effort to come on Friday to watch Stanford kick our asses, so I'll see everyone then."
"Hey, you beat them last time," Jamie pointed out.
"Uh-huh, I know that, Pumpkin, but they haven't lost at home in over four years. No good reason to think we'll stop that string. I think we just caught them on an off night in Berkeley. We are their only loss, you know."
"Well I know you can do it. I have nothing but confidence in you."
San Jose State gave them no trouble at all and the mood was very upbeat when they straggled out of the locker room. Ryan took the time to take a shower since she didn't want to stiffen up on the long ride home, so she was the last to leave. As she poked her head out of the locker room she was amazed to find Catherine waiting patiently for her. "Catherine!" she exclaimed with delight. "I had no idea you would come tonight. I didn't even look up in the stands because I didn't expect anyone!"
Catherine gave her a firm hug. "Do you really think I would miss a game that was only an hour from my house? What kind of mother-in-law do you think I am?"
Ryan slid her arm around her shoulders as she replied, "The best kind I could ever hope for."
The equipment manager was just coming out of the locker room and she advised, "Let's go, Ryan, you're the last one."
"Oh, I've got to go, Catherine. I wish I could stay for a while, but they'll leave without me!"
"Will you stop for a snack on the way home?"
"No, not tonight. It's mid-term week so everyone wants to get home. I'll just get something there."
"Nonsense. Go tell them you've got a ride. We'll stop and get a snack, and then I'll take you home."
"But…" Ryan started to protest.
Catherine narrowed her eyes and said, "We're family, remember?"
Ryan pursed her lips and gave her a quick nod as she ran to tell the Coach that she would get home on her own.
"Hi," Ryan said from Catherine's cell phone when Jamie answered. She and Catherine were driving to an all-night deli for a snack, and she knew her partner would be worried about her if she wasn't home on time.
"Hi, Baby! How did it go?"
"I had a great night," Ryan supplied. "We won three-zip, and I got picked up by the most gorgeous blonde. We're in her car now, and I wanted to let you know so you didn't worry when I was late."
"Let me talk to that blonde right now," Jamie demanded, suppressing a giggle.
Ryan handed her the phone and Catherine said, "Hello, Dear. I'm taking the star of the game for a little
snack. I'll return her as soon as I top off her tank."
"Thanks for going, Mom. I couldn't bear the thought of her not having anyone watch her play."
"I was planning on it anyway, Dear, but thank you for reminding me."
After studying the extensive menu, Ryan settled on a club sandwich and a chocolate malt. As usual, Catherine stuck with a cup of coffee.
They chatted about the game for a few minutes, but when the food was delivered Catherine said, "I wanted to make a proposal to you, Ryan, but I want to make sure that you understand that you do not have to agree."
"Okay," Ryan said as she put her sandwich down and looked Catherine in the eye.
"I want to call Jim and invite him to come home for the weekend. I know it would mean a lot to him to see Jamie play Stanford, and it might give you a chance to be around him so that he could get to know you a little better. I know that Jamie wants to facilitate a relationship between you and her father, and this seems like a perfect time to start." She blew out a breath after she got the thought out, and Ryan patted her hand to reassure her.
"Does it make you nervous to ask me that?"
"Yes, it really does," she conceded. "If I were in your place, I would have no interest in being in the same room with him. I feel a little uncomfortable even asking you this, but I think it's something that would make Jamie happy."
"Catherine, I would move to Washington and share an apartment with him if it would make Jamie happy. I'd think it's an excellent idea, and I'm sure Jamie will appreciate it."
"I haven't mentioned this to Jim or Jamie. I just wanted to see if you were willing before I did so."
"I won't say a word," Ryan said with a smile. "Why don't you see if Jim is interested, and then you can tell Jamie."
She shook her head slightly and stirred her coffee absently, saying, "Your capacity for forgiveness just amazes me, Ryan. I don't know how you do it."
"It's not really that hard, Catherine. To tell you the truth, I forgive mostly for selfish reasons. There's an old Irish expression that sums up my philosophy on the subject. 'Animosity is like drinking poison and hoping that your enemy dies.' I really do believe that, Catherine. I can't spend my life being wrapped up in this little drama. I have forgiven him, and I'm perfectly willing to move on."
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