Intentions - SF9

by Meagher, Susan X

  "I have the feeling that your brothers aren't in my fan club," Jim mused to Conor.

  "I don't think Rory knows much about what happened," Conor informed him, "but Brendan knows enough. He's not the kind of guy that can tolerate having Ryan hurt."

  Jim looked at his young friend and asked the obvious question. "What about you, Conor? Why do you still speak to me?"

  Conor thought about the question for a minute and decided to be honest with the older man. "It helped when you called me to tell me what had happened," he revealed. "I don't approve of what you did, but I guess I tried to put myself in your shoes. If my kid was doing something that I really didn't approve of, I'm sure I'd be pretty heavy-handed, too."

  Jim nodded and said, "It's been hard, Conor, but I really am sorry for hurting your sister."

  "You didn't really hurt her, Jim. You've upset her, and made her really anxious, but you haven't actually hurt her."

  "Are you sure of that, Conor?" he asked, casting a glance down at the young woman playing her heart out down on the court.

  "Oh yeah," Conor assured him. "If you had, you'd be dead." He gave him a friendly pat on the back, his face curling into a smile. Jim couldn't help but notice, however, that the normally warm blue eyes now bored into him like a pair of surgical lasers.

  There was a small break between the first and second games, and some of the other players' parents came over to say hello to Catherine and Jamie, and finally meet Jim. Jim nearly gagged when Amy's mother introduced Catherine to her husband as 'Ryan's mother-in-law', but he managed to smile and graciously accept a few compliments about his recent appointment.

  As the couple left, Jim leaned over to his wife and whispered, "How many of these games have you been to?"

  "All of them," she said lightly. "It's important to Jamie."

  The match was the most emotionally draining one that Ryan had ever played in. Stanford had gotten so much better since they had last played each other that they seemed like a different team. But against all odds, Cal was having an extraordinary night. The match was so close that every game extended beyond the normal 15 points. Cal won the first 17-15 with Stanford taking the second 18-16. When Stanford also took the third 16-14, Jamie was afraid that the tide was turning. But Cal roared back and rescued the fourth game on a beautiful dig by Michelle that Ryan put away for a kill to take it 17-15.

  Every point in game five was hard fought, with neither team ever being up by more than two points. When Stanford missed an easy block that would have given them the match at 15-13, Jim's voice echoed through the gym as he shouted out, "Hit the damned ball!"

  20 pairs of mostly blue eyes turned and stared at him in shock, but Jamie did her best to avert a mutiny when she said, "He's a Stanford alum. He gets carried away!"

  Most of the relatives smiled at his faux pas, but Brendan locked his gaze on Jim, looking like he wanted to take him outside and teach him a lesson. Martin put his arm around his eldest and whispered something to make him turn around and concentrate on the game again, but he couldn't keep himself from turning around another time or two, his eyes burning with unveiled animosity.

  The match was knotted at 18 when Jordan and Ryan rose as one to extend their arms up and over the net to block a ball powerfully off the Stanford setter. All of the O'Flahertys stood with the other Cal fans as Erika served for the match. She looked entirely focused as she tossed over a high percentage serve just to be safe. The rally went on so long that Jamie's stomach was in knots, but to everyone's amazement, the shortest person on the team, 5'4" Michelle Chang, leapt as high as she was able to record her first kill of the match. The Stanford team was so utterly devastated that they could hardly bring themselves to go to the net for the traditional handshake. Even the crowd lapsed into silence, except for the very vocal Cal rooting section.

  Jamie noticed that Ryan was wiping her eyes as she hugged the seniors from Stanford, obviously feeling empathy for the team that had never lost at home. The Cardinal coach came up to the net and threw an arm around both Jordan and Ryan and spoke to them for a few moments, finally releasing them to continue their celebration.

  Ryan could not contain her joy for another moment, and she raced over to the bleachers and gingerly climbed up to grab Jamie in a powerful hug. "Oh, Baby, I'm so proud of you!" the smaller woman cried, hugging the overheated and thoroughly drenched body.

  Catherine started to put a hand on her back, but she pulled it away quickly when she felt the sweat, not sharing that particular affinity with her daughter. Jim shook Ryan's hand, sincerely praising her efforts.

  She smiled at him as she turned to head back down, saying, "Next time you'd better sit with the Stanford rooting section, Jim. Your comments could be dangerous to your health with my family around."

  Jamie just smirked at her, amazed at Ryan's ability to focus so intently on her game and still hear nearly everything going on in the gym.

  It was ten o'clock by the time the last of the guests arrived, and Catherine and Maeve spent a minute marveling at the energy that flowed from the young women as they cavorted in the pool. "Ahh, youth," Maeve said fondly.

  "I never had that kind of energy," Catherine admitted. "I think athletes are just different kinds of animals."

  "You could be right there," Maeve agreed as Ryan went barreling into the deep end, executing a perfect cannonball.

  "Come sit and tell me how married life is treating you," Catherine urged, leading Maeve over to a table.

  "Ahh! I just so happen to have some snapshots of the trip," the older woman said. "Your daughter arranged to have a professional photographer come, I'll have you know," she said with a big smile, "but we don't have those pictures yet. I just had my nephew take a few rolls of film with my little camera."

  Catherine looked at one of the first pictures, taken the day Maeve arrived in Ireland. "Oh, these must be your parents," she exclaimed.

  "Yes, that would be them. John Ryan and Bridget Casey-married 59 years in July," she said proudly.

  "My, oh my," Catherine remarked. "Such a long time to be married."

  "They're still daft about each other," Maeve chuckled, and Catherine had to admit that she could see the affection the two shared, even in a simple photograph. "I don't think Martin and I will have anything close to their longevity, but I certainly wish our time would come," she said, looking a little disappointed.

  "I was a surprised when Jamie said you weren't living together yet," Catherine said slowly. "Is that because you haven't had your church wedding?"

  "Yes," Maeve sighed. "I didn't mind at first-I suppose I was still so excited about the trip and everything. But I'm 57 years old, Catherine. I don't want to waste a quarter of a year waiting to live with my Martin. It's actually been wearing on my mind…I'm afraid I'll be so cranky by late January that he won't want to marry me any longer."

  Catherine chuckled and assured her that would not be the case. "I think it would take more than a bad mood to scare Martin off. He's clearly very much in love with you, Maeve. How's he faring?"

  "Well, Martin is nothing if not disciplined," she commented. "He believes that one just does what one has to do. We're actually spending a little less time together than we did before." She blushed mildly as she admitted, "I think it's too tempting for him to spend our evenings snogging."

  "Snogging?" Catherine asked.

  "Oh…you know…kissing," she said, still embarrassed.

  "Then why wait, Maeve? Surely you could come up with an alternate plan. Would it bother Kevin if you and Martin lived at your house for a few months while you waited for Niall's house to be completed?"

  "We haven't even asked him," she admitted, looking a little puzzled as she said this. "I suppose we hatched this plan, and now we're stuck with it."

  "Nonsense," Catherine said. "We can put a wedding together in a week or two. Talk to Martin and see if he feels like you do."

  "All right," she said tentatively. "I suppose I could be ready sooner-although I had planned on bu
ying a nice dress." She shook her head briskly and said, "Ahh…no need. I can wear the one my sister bought for me in Ireland."

  Catherine was thumbing through the pictures, and she came upon the ones from the actual wedding. "Is this the dress you mean?" she asked curiously.

  "Yes, that's it," Maeve said. "It's perfectly serviceable," she insisted.

  Catherine surveyed the plain ivory colored gown and thought privately that it did nothing for her friend. The color was too close to her skin tone, making her look exceedingly washed out, and the dress was of a style more suited to an older woman, not showing off Maeve's trim figure in the least.

  The older woman continued, "My darling younger sister took me shopping, since I had not brought anything special enough to get married in. We could have done a better job if we had the time, but we were forced to go to a little shop in Ballina. They only had three dresses in my size," she commented. "This was really the best of the lot."

  "I would love to go shopping with you, Maeve," Catherine said. "This dress is very nice, but it won't do to wear it twice. Isn't that some kind of bad luck?" she asked teasingly.

  The older woman looked a little unhappy as she said, "I can't spend the money on something so frivolous, Catherine. I have a nice navy blue dress that I can wear. I'm sure that will be fine."

  Catherine cocked her head and asked, "Do they have the good luck aphorism in Ireland that you should wear something borrowed for your wedding?"

  "No, but I know what you mean," Maeve said.

  "Let's go up to my room for a few minutes. I'd like to test a theory," the smiling blonde woman said.

  Maeve was more than taken aback as Catherine led her to her walk-in closet. She looked around with a wide-eyed expression and finally was unable to stop herself from exclaiming, "My goodness, this looks like the finest clothing store in Kinsale!" She had never been to Kinsale, but the tony Dublin suburb was well known for having some of the most elegant boutiques in all of Ireland.

  "It's rather ridiculous," Catherine said, acknowledging that she spent far too much money on clothes. "I had to attend so many social functions with Jim and for my own charity work," she said. "It's just not done to wear the same thing to multiple functions, so most of these things have only been worn once," she admitted.

  Maeve gazed around at the gorgeous clothing that was arranged according to color, shaking her head in amazement the entire time. Her hand lifted as she fingered some of the garments, stunned by the rich feel of the fabrics. "Remarkable," she murmured, unable to come up with anything more complex.

  Catherine placed a hand on Maeve's shoulder and said, "My theory is that you and I are about the same size. Would you be interested in testing it out?"

  Maeve blanched noticeably, as she said, "You want to lend me one of these gorgeous things?"

  "No, I want to give you a dress to wear to your wedding," she said, her eyes locked upon her friend's. "I would be honored if you would do me that favor."

  The green eyes were dancing with delight, but Maeve felt duty-bound to try to refuse. "Oh, Catherine," she said, "that's really not necessary. I have a perfectly serviceable…"

  "Maeve," Catherine interrupted softly, "no woman wants to get married in a serviceable dress. Some of these dresses would look positively wonderful on you. Will you at least try a few on?"

  Giving Catherine a nearly giddy smile she said, "Well, it couldn't hurt to just try a few, now could it?"

  "That's the spirit!" Catherine enthused, running her eyes down the long racks, trying to pick the dress that would allow Maeve to stand out as the lovely woman that she was.

  Jamie noticed her mother's absence, and after a half-hour she went to search for her. She was a bit surprised to find Maeve standing in her mother's closet, wearing only a full slip, but when the task was explained she immediately pitched in to help.

  Another half-hour later, both Jamie and Mia were sitting on the floor of the big closet, giving their expert opinions on the fashion show. They had been trying to focus on the colors that would go best with Maeve's hair, the auburn clashing badly with much of Catherine's wardrobe, which tended towards the colors that highlighted her light blonde hair.

  Mia finally jumped up from the floor and went to an untapped source, pulling out a sterling silver silk shantung two-piece suit that immediately caused Maeve's eyes to light up. "Oh my goodness," she said as she lightly touched the fabric. "I don't think I've ever seen anything so gorgeous!"

  "Give it a whirl, Maeve," Mia insisted, having warmed up to the delightful woman immediately.

  She did so, fastening the tiny covered buttons and twitching the jacket into place. The skirt was a little shorter than she was used to wearing, hitting her a little above her knees, but she had very shapely legs, and the look was extremely flattering. As she gazed at herself in the three-way mirror, she shook her head slowly as three other heads nodded in tandem. "I hardly look like myself," she mused, wondering who the sophisticated woman was who looked back at her.

  "We have a winner!" Mia declared, settling the issue to everyone's satisfaction.

  At around eleven, Jim had had enough of making small talk with the O'Flahertys, so he excused himself to Jamie by saying, "I need to get up early and go in to the office for a few hours. You don't mind if I say goodnight, do you?"

  "No, but are you sure we won't disturb you?"

  "No, no, I'm sleeping in a guest room in the front of the house. I won't hear a thing."

  "Okay, goodnight, Daddy. And thanks for trying so hard tonight. I really appreciate it."

  "Anything for you, Cupcake," he said automatically, before he realized that he really meant it.

  It was after midnight when they finally were able to pluck the tiring baby from her 15 babysitters and get her back into her clothes. All of the O'Flahertys thanked Catherine profusely for her generosity as they slowly departed. The team finally got squared away with dry Tshirts and their warm-ups, and they took off shortly thereafter. As Coach Placer got ready to leave he took Ryan aside and said, "The luckiest day of my year was when you walked into my office. It has been a pleasure to be your coach, Ryan."

  "Well, given that volleyball was my least favorite team sport, I have to thank you for elevating it significantly in my estimation," she teased.

  "I don't know what your favorite is, but I'd switch to be able to coach you in something you really love," he said fondly as he patted her back.

  One of the things that the O'Flahertys had trouble with was refraining from cleaning up after a party at Catherine's. "We can't just leave this mess," Martin wailed as he surveyed the damage.

  But even as he spoke, Marta, Helena, and Helena's son, Antonio, came out to attack the mess. Antonio did not work for Catherine regularly, but the 19-year-old college student helped out on an hourly basis when Marta thought they needed an extra pair of hands.

  "It's okay, Da," Ryan assured him. "Jamie and I will help out. You guys head on home. It's late, and I know the boys have had a long day."

  "All right, Darlin'. But it just doesn't feel right to expect other people to clean up after us."

  "I know, Da," she said indulgently. "But things are different down here."

  "You can say that again," he muttered so that only she could hear. "The nerve of that sorry excuse of a man to root for Stanford! And then to leave in the middle of his own party! I'll tell you one thing, Siobhan, wealth doesn't assure good manners!"

  "That's for sure," she agreed, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

  By the time the mess was cleared away it was nearly one a.m., and Catherine decreed that the dishes should be washed in the morning. The staff gratefully retired to their quarters, exhausted from the rare flurry of activity that the day had brought.

  "It's awfully late, Mia," Catherine said. "Would you like to stay over so you don't disturb your parents?"

  "Gee…I guess I could do that," she said, thinking, My bag's already in Jordan's room.

  "I'll have Helena prepare an extra room
for you, Honey," Catherine said, starting off in the direction of the servants' wing.

  "No, don't bother, Mom," Jamie insisted. "We'll set Mia up. Helena's already in bed."

  "All right," Catherine agreed. "Just let me know if you need anything, Mia."

  The grinning brunette smiled at the older woman. I've got everything I need, all wrapped up in one big, tall package, Catherine.

  Catherine kissed the girls goodnight and headed straight for bed, one o'clock being close to her normal bedtime. Jamie looked at her partner with very alert eyes and said, "I'm still keyed up."

  "Yeah, I am too. I should be exhausted, but I just have a surplus of nervous energy bubbling out of me."

  "Let's hop in the spa," Jamie suggested. "Maybe that will relax us." Turning to their friends she asked, "You guys wanna come?"

  Mia batted her eyes at her friend and said, "I haven't been able to touch Jordan all night long. I think I need to make up for lost time."

  "I'd hate to disappoint Mia," Jordan smiled as she took her friend's hand and led her into the house. "'Night, girls," she said over her shoulder. "Don't do anything we wouldn't do."

  Ryan looked down at Jamie and said, "I'm not sure what that would preclude at this point. The house feels like it's gonna shake off its foundation some nights!"

  "Jordan's making up for lost time, Hon." She gave Ryan a smirk and said, "Mia just loves sex."

  "I think she loves more than sex, Jamie. I think she loves Jordan."

  "You could be right, Buffy," the smaller woman agreed, grinning up at Ryan. "It's easy to fall in love with a big, sexy volleyball player. I know I have."

  "Flattery will get you everywhere," Ryan joked, taking Jamie's hand to lead her to the spa. They spent a good 15 minutes soaking in the warm water and were both beginning to relax a little as the water worked its magic.