"But she said I could," Ryan whined.
"She most certainly did not!" Jamie insisted. "You told her you were going to start basketball as soon as volleyball ended, and she said that if you didn't start sleeping more and gain some weight that you would never make it through another sport! That's not exactly a ringing endorsement, Ryan!"
"Well she didn't say I couldn't," Ryan reminded her as she stuck her lower lip out in her adorable little pout.
Jamie dropped her head to the table and smacked it lightly against the surface. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you," she moaned.
Ryan turned to Mia and gave her a childlike grin as she admitted, "I'd bet I've heard that refrain at least 1,000 times in my life!"
The next morning when Ryan got back from working out at the gym there was a note taped to the refrigerator. "Open Me!" it read. Grinning widely, she opened the door and found two complete meals and a snack, all ready for her consumption. A large container of oatmeal was labeled, "Add two bananas and blueberries and eat by ten a.m." A container of hearty potato soup was marked, "Eat by two p.m.", and a pint container of plain, nonfat yogurt bore the legend, "Add strawberries and blueberries and take to gym to eat between practices." The blender was in the refrigerator, and it had been filled with orange juice, a sliced banana and strawberries. Its label read, "Add nonfat frozen yogurt and drink whenever you wish as long as it's before three p.m." There was a little heart or a series of x's circled with o's on each note. I would have had a girlfriend years ago if I'd known it would be this nice, Ryan thought fondly, kissing the container of oatmeal as a substitute for her partner.
The downside of having a concerned partner made itself known when Ryan showed up at three o'clock for her workout with Lynette. The older woman gave her a look and said, "Jamie called me today, Ryan. You really should have told us about the real reason for your weight loss. Losing 25 pounds to illness is a lot different than playing light."
"I know," she said, both chagrined and miffed with Jamie for interfering. "I just didn't think you'd let me play if you knew I'd kept losing weight."
"That's a good guess, Ryan, and if I told Coach Hayes, that's just what would happen. But I know how much you want to play, and I'm willing to keep this our little secret. Two things I need from you, though."
"Name it," she said immediately.
"One-no weight lifting until you've gained a few pounds. You're working plenty hard at practices-you don't need any more strain on your body."
"Okay. That's a good idea," Ryan agreed.
"Two-no more running. It's not doing you any good at this point, and it's sapping calories. Do we have a deal?"
"Yes, Coach, we do," she agreed.
"One more thing, Ryan," Lynette said. "Don't be angry with Jamie for calling me. She's worried about you, and I think she has good reason."
"Yeah, she does," Ryan agreed. "I get too focused and forget to take care of myself sometimes."
"You're going to have to do a better job of that, Ryan, or this schedule will eat you alive. It's a lot more demanding than the volleyball schedule. The games are often longer, and Coach Hayes is a hell of a lot harder to play for than Coach Placer." She gave her a worried look and said, "I just hope that you don't regret your decision to play, Ryan."
"I won't," she assured her. "I just love to play, and this is the highest caliber of competition I'm ever going to have. It's worth it to me, Coach."
"I hope so," she said. "I sincerely hope so."
Catherine walked into the baggage claim area of National Airport in Washington, D.C. and immediately noticed the uniformed driver holding aloft a sign that read "C. Evans." She signaled the man and he helped her retrieve her luggage, escorting her to the limo just minutes later. The flight had been uneventful, but she had not been able to sleep, her mind far too active to allow her to relax. She had flown most of the night, and dawn was just breaking over the Washington skyline when the car reached the hotel. The bellman took her bags, and before she was halfway across the lobby Jim appeared, looking fully awake and ready for the day. He was dressed in a dark blue suit, crisp white shirt, and a gold and navy print tie that she had given him after a trip to Italy. She smiled broadly at him, and allowed him to give her a warm hug. "God, it's good to see you," he whispered, squeezing her tight.
"How did you know I was here?" she asked, delighted that he cared enough to come down to greet her.
"I asked the doorman to alert me as soon as a limo carrying a gorgeous blonde woman pulled up." He was giving her one of his most rakish smiles, and she could only respond with a small shake of her head.
As he led her to the elevator she said, "You look good, Jim. You actually look more well rested than I've seen you in years."
"Don't tell anyone," he whispered conspiratorially, "but this job is a day at the beach compared to practicing law."
"Your secret's safe with me," she chuckled, finding herself charmed by his boyish exuberance. When they arrived at his apartment, he gave her a brief tour and directed the bellman to put her bags in the spare bedroom.
"I'm sure you want to spend most of the day sleeping, but I'd love to give you the grand tour of the Capitol if you're up for it," he said. "I think you'd enjoy it."
"All right," she agreed. "Either today or tomorrow. My flight back isn't until five, so we can do it either day."
"Oh, good!" he said excitedly. "I can arrange for a special lunch in the Senate dining room. I'm sure you're too tired to do that today."
"Yes, I think I'll need most of the day to make myself presentable for tonight," she laughed.
"That's where you're wrong, Catherine," he assured her, looking deeply into her eyes. "You'd be the most beautiful woman there if you went just as you are. You look absolutely lovely," he added, his green eyes boring into her.
She blinked at him, on the verge of tossing off a self-deprecating comment, but the sincerity in his expression stopped her. What is going on with him? she wondered. He acts like he wooing me again!
"I have a breakfast meeting this morning, so I have to get going," he said, crossing to the closet to retrieve his overcoat. "If you need anything, anything at all, call my secretary. She can reach me at a minute's notice. Also, the concierge of the hotel is wonderful, and room service has a great salad that I know you'd like." He was smiling broadly at her the entire time he talked, and she mused that his tone showed more excitement than she had heard in years.
"I'm sure I won't have any problems, Jim. I honestly think I'll sleep most of the day-I was unable to on the plane."
"OH!" He walked across the room and handed her a slip of paper from a pad resting near the phone. "I arranged for a massage for you for late this afternoon. I thought that would help you feel refreshed for tonight. I know what a tough time you have sleeping on airplanes."
His expression was that of a schoolboy who was waiting to hear if he had passed an important test, and she smiled broadly in return. "Thank you, Jim. This is very thoughtful of you."
"All of the details are listed right here," he said. "You can walk to the spa…it's almost across the street."
"Thank you again," she said, and was surprised by the enthusiastic hug he gave her.
"I'm just glad you're here, Catherine," he said softly. "I'm very, very happy to see you."
Once she was unpacked and dressed in her pajamas, Catherine tried to get to sleep, but her mind was still racing. She decided to call Jamie and chat with her for a moment, hoping that being able to vent her feelings would help. The younger woman answered on the third ring. "Hello?"
"Hi, honey, it's mother."
"Hi, Mom!" Jamie whispered. "Hold on a sec…I've got to go outside." She was quiet for a moment, then said in a normal tone of voice, "Okay, I can talk now."
"Am I disturbing you?"
"No, not at all. You just saved me from actually falling asleep in the middle of class. Wow, who knew accounting could be so boring!"
Catherine laughed and said, "It doesn't s
eem like that's a subject that matches your personality, but it's a good thing to know."
"Yeah. I keep telling myself that," she smirked. "So, are you there?"
"Yes. I'm going to try to go to sleep for a while, but my mind won't let me relax."
"How come, Mom? Is something bothering you?"
"Did you see that movie where aliens come to earth and infiltrate the country by starting with the President, and then working their way through the Congress?"
"Uhh…no. Was that the movie on the plane?"
"Hardly. Anyway, I think it's happened…and they've obviously gotten to your father."
Jamie chuckled as she said, "He's seemed like he's been under someone's mind control this year. Do you have any further evidence?"
"He must have found the Fountain of Youth at the same time. He's acting like he did when we were dating…actually he's nicer than he was then. He honestly acts like he's trying to impress me, and he hasn't done that in a very, very long time."
"Maybe he really is sincere in his desire to try again, Mom. Do you think you can trust him?" she asked warily.
"No, I see no reason to trust him yet, honey. He's got a very long way to go before I do that again. But he is trying, and that's very good to see."
"I'm glad to hear that, Mom. If he's got a brain in his head, he'll put all of his energies into trying to win you back."
"The limo should be here soon, Catherine. Are you about ready?"
The door to the second bedroom opened, and Jim took a step backwards, his mouth gaping open as he took in the vision of his wife. Catherine always looked lovely when she was attending a formal dinner, but she was fairly ravishing tonight, and the look on Jim's face left no doubts that her extra efforts had paid off.
Jamie had convinced her to buy a dress she would not normally have been drawn to--a burnished gold silk strapless gown, with a form-fitting bodice and full train. The bustline of the dress emphasized her meager cleavage to very good effect, with the smoky topaz solitaire pendant she wore helping to set it off. Catherine didn't have a distinctive tan, but she had been swimming recently, and the kiss of the sun showed faintly across her shoulders, making her look healthy, robust, and very attractive.
"I am stunned," Jim murmured, walking slowly around his wife, looking at her from every angle. "I have never seen you look lovelier, Catherine." He took her hand and walked down the hallway with her, his eyes never leaving her. "I don't think I've ever seen you in that color before," he mused. "I don't even know what it's called…but they should name it after you."
She couldn't remove the smile that settled on her face, even though she knew his compliments were ridiculously outlandish. "You look very nice yourself, Jim. I like this tuxedo better than any you've ever had."
"Thank you," he smiled. "That's probably because I finally let you talk me into having one made in Italy. I don't know why I ever argue with you about fashion. You clearly know what's best."
"I'm actually excited about tonight," she said as they walked to the door. "Believe me, I can't remember the last time I was looking forward to a formal dinner."
"No, I've had my fill also, but this one should be special…especially now," he added, as he placed his hand against the small of her back and guided her out the door.
Catherine wasn't sure if she had forgotten, or if Jim had failed to tell her that this dinner was in honor of the president of Italy. Various members of the Italian consulate were in attendance, scattered among the tables, and Catherine was seated next to one such dignitary. Jim watched her out of the corner of his eye as she managed to charm the Ferragamos right off the fellow, chatting easily with him and his wife about all things Italian. She was the only other person at the table who spoke Italian, and even though the man spoke perfectly acceptable English, it was clear that he and his wife preferred conversing in their native tongue, so Catherine became the translator for the table.
After dinner they adjourned to the Red Room for dancing. Catherine was a little surprised when Jim insisted on having the first dance with her, but she settled comfortably in his arms and let him lead her around the large, polished floor. "Are you having fun?" he asked, his breath warm and moist as it passed over her ear.
"Very much so," she replied, tilting her head to gaze into his eyes. "Are you?"
"Yes," he said, "but I'd like it even better if all of these other people would leave us alone."
"It looks like someone's about to cut in, dear," she whispered, and his face flashed a frown of displeasure. "Oh, I'll be right back," she chided softly. "You can't say no to the leader of the free world!"
When Jim had been reunited with his wife, he sulked for a few minutes about the temerity of the President. "Two songs! Why did he have to dance with you for two songs! He's got his own wife," he grumbled.
"Uh-huh," Catherine said, thinking that Jim and the President had some of the same habits where women were concerned. "You could have asked Hilary to dance," she suggested.
"I don't think he'd have noticed," he groused, clearly angry that he couldn't trump the man. He blinked down at Catherine and said, "He's as stupid as I am. He clearly doesn't see what a wonderful woman he's married to. After all she's been through, I can't imagine it's not over for them." He paused for a second, taking in a deep breath. "I hope it's not over for us, Catherine."
She patted his back and leaned against his chest, not speaking for a few minutes as they moved gracefully around the dance floor. "It's not over yet, Jim. I don't know what's in store for us, but it's not over yet."
When they were back at their table, Jim sipped a cognac and mused, "I wish I hadn't had to leave my cell phone at the guard station. I would love to call Jamie from the White House."
Catherine gave him a puzzled glance and raised an eyebrow at one of the hovering attendants. "The Senator needs to make a long distance phone call. Can you help him?"
"Yes, Senator, right this way, sir," the tuxedoed man said.
Jim smiled as he rose and extended his hand to his wife. "Mrs. Evans will be joining me for the call," he said, and they were escorted to an elegant sitting room, far down the hall from the dinner.
After securing a line, the man handed Jim the phone and said, "Do you need the operators to connect you, sir, or do you know the number?"
"I know it," Catherine said, and proceeded to dial.
Jim smiled at the man and said, "See why I need her?"
On the way back to the apartment, Jim sat closer to Catherine than she was used to, and after a few blocks, his arm was resting lightly around her shoulders. "Remember the first formal dance we ever attended?"
She looked at him as if he were mad and said, "Yes…how could I forget? I have a permanent reminder of that night, Jim, and we just spoke to her on the phone!"
He smiled and said, "I meant a little earlier in the evening."
"Oh…before I got so drunk that I had unprotected sex with you in the car." She had never spent a day regretting the gift of their daughter, but if she could turn back time she would have been in her right mind at the time of her conception.
He looked a little taken aback by her tone, and he blinked at her slowly before he asked, "Do you regret it, Cat?"
She patted his leg and assured him, "No, I don't, Jim. I didn't like the timing, and I wish I hadn't been so drunk, but I don't regret sleeping with you, I don't regret marrying you, and I certainly don't regret having Jamie. It doesn't do much good to complain about the details-especially when the outcome is so wonderful."
"She is wonderful, isn't she?" he asked rhetorically, sliding his arm lower and drawing Catherine close. "She's the best parts of both of us…how did that happen?" he asked with a wry chuckle.
"I don't have a clue, but I'm very grateful for it," she agreed, feeling uncommonly comfortable nestled against his body.
"She seemed very happy to hear from us," he commented softly.
"I think she was. How often do your parents call from the White House?" She was quiet for
a moment, and then said, "I think she'd be very happy if we got back together."
"I know I would," Jim whispered, pulling her still closer, his arms wrapped tightly around Catherine's body.
"I'm willing to try, Jim, but we have to go slow. I need a lot of proof before I'm going to trust you again."
"I've stopped seeing Kayla, Catherine. As soon as I returned here after the unfortunate incident with Jamie and Ryan-I broke it off that night."
"Why?" she asked.
"Because I know it's wrong," he said softly. "It's childish and immature. I'm like a four-year-old…I see a new toy and I immediately lose interest in the one that I was perfectly happy with. I've turned into the man I used to make fun of, Catherine. I don't want to be known as the old letch who can't be trusted around a pretty girl. It's not how I was raised, Cat."
"No, it certainly isn't," she agreed. "You had a very good role model, that you chose not to follow."
"It's not too late," he insisted. "I can change this time…I know I can."
"I'm willing to try, Jim," she reiterated. "You're going to have to be patient, though. I won't rush into anything."
"I will be." His promise was whispered directly into her ear, and she felt a shiver roll down her body. "I will do my best."
"Care for a nightcap?" he asked, holding up a bottle of cognac.
"No, I don't think so," she said. "Feel free to have one, if you wish. I'll stay up and keep you company." She'd had wine with dinner, but she wanted to have her faculties about her, having a feeling that Jim would try to re-ignite their sexual relationship immediately.
Her guess was proven correct just a few minutes later. He sat down next to her on the couch and leaned dangerously close. "I've been thinking about what you said in the car earlier," he mused as he let his fingers trail down her neck, pausing to lightly touch her necklace.
"What's that?" she asked lazily, unconsciously tilting her head to give him better access.
Journeys - SF10 Page 12
