Disclosures - SF4 (34 page)

After another moment, Ryan's face lit up in a delighted grin. "You should be a psychologist," she said affectionately.

"But you do agree with my obtuse point?"

"Yes. You’re right, Jamie. My mother would have been glad that they had each other. She probably would have wondered what took them so long. If it would be okay with her, it should be okay with me, too."

"I think so, Baby. They were both entirely faithful to their spouses while they were married to them. But it's been so long for both of them. Almost 17 years for your father and 11 years for Maeve. Isn't that long enough to mourn?"

Ryan tossed her legs back over the arm of the love seat and threw her arms around her lover. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you."

During dinner, Jamie noticed that Ryan was pretty close to her normal self. Brendan was there and they all chatted about their respective weeks. The boys and Da were extremely interested in Ryan's tryouts, all delighted that she had chosen volleyball for her sport. "I don't think I could have watched your matches if you had decided on soccer," Martin admitted.

"You would have been proud of her, Martin," Jamie said. "We talked about the risks and she immediately decided that she wasn't willing to take the chance, no matter how remote."

"Have you ever seen her play soccer?" he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

"No, not really. I saw her work out, but that's all."

"You wouldn't think the risk was remote if you had seen her play," he said with a laugh. "My little girl could make sipping tea into a dangerous sport if there was a competition involved."

After dinner they all joined together to clean the kitchen. At around eight Jamie and Ryan went down to their room, but scant minutes later they heard footsteps on the stairs. It was their new habit to leave the door open unless they did not want to be disturbed, and tonight the door was open. Martin stuck his head in and asked, "Can I speak with you girls for a minute?"

"Sure, Da," Ryan said as she motioned him in. She sat down on the bed and Jamie grabbed the desk chair. He paced around a bit before settling on the love seat.

"I take it that Siobhán told you my news?" he asked Jamie.

"Yes, she did, Martin, and I want to tell you how happy I am for you both. You're two of my favorite people, you know."

"Thank you, dear," he said with a smile. "I hope we do as well as you two have. But I came down to see how you were doing with the news, Siobhán. You didn't seem quite yourself tonight."

Jamie started to stand, saying, "I’ll go upstairs so you two can talk."

Almost simultaneously, both father and daughter urged her to stay, with Ryan lifting her arm in a welcoming gesture. "I want you to stay, Babe, and Da does too, right?"

"Indeed," he nodded. "Everything that impacts Siobhán has an impact on you too, Jamie."

She smiled at the pair and sat down next to Ryan, snuggling into her side as requested. It still felt a little odd to be physically close in front of Martin, but she knew that the only way to get through her discomfort was to slowly desensitize herself. Accepting Ryan’s offers of close contact was a small step in that direction.

She could feel some of the tension leave her partner’s body and was glad that she had accepted her invitation to sit next to her. Ryan took in a breath and said, "It's going to take me a while to get used to, Da. Jamie and I talked about it, and I feel a lot better than I did earlier. She pointed out some things that I hadn't thought of, and it cleared up some things for me."

"Is there anything you want to tell me about?"

Ryan looked a little shy about revealing her feelings, but she decided that honesty was the best way to proceed. "Jamie pointed out that it probably feels to me that Maeve and you are already related. When I thought about that I realized that is exactly how I feel. So it feels odd to hear you talk about marrying someone who feels like a blood relative."

He looked down at his folded hands for a long minute. Finally he shook his head and said, "I see your point, Darlin’. I've never thought of Maeve as a blood relative, even though I love her like one. But she's always been in your life, and it makes perfect sense that you would feel that way. I imagine the other kids will feel the same."

"I think that's a real possibility," she admitted. "But I don't think it's an insurmountable problem. It's just something that we should acknowledge so we can get over it."

"Anything else troubling you, Siobhán?"

She debated again but once again decided to tell him the truth. Jamie could feel her stiffen, and she had a very good idea what was coming. "Part of me feels that you're being unfaithful to Mama," she said quietly as she stared at the floor.

The look of shock that passed across his face was painful for both women to witness. He began to flush and looked like he wanted to defend himself, but instead he asked, "Why do you feel that way?"

Ryan ran her free hand through her hair and Jamie could feel the muscles in her torso coil even tighter. "In my rational mind, I want you to fall in love again, Da. Loving Jamie has let me see what it was that you lost when Mama died," she said as tears began to roll down her cheeks. "But there’s a part of me that doesn’t ever want anyone to try and take Mama’s place. I know it's selfish and I hate that I feel this way...." she said as she began to sob. Jamie started to wrap her arms around her partner, but before she could blink, Martin beat her to it. He sat down next to his daughter and put his arms around her shaking shoulders.

"There, there, Sweetheart," he soothed as he rocked her and patted her back. "It's okay, Siobhán. I feel that way too. No woman could ever take her place in my heart. And part of the reason I never dated when you were younger was because I didn't want anyone to come in here and try to take your mother's place. But you're all grown now, Sweetheart, and to tell you the truth...." he paused for a moment and gathered himself, "I'm very lonely," he said quietly. "When you were all younger, I didn't have time to think about myself, but now, with you all home so seldom..." he trailed off.

"Oh, Da," she said, "I'm sorry I said that. I had no idea that you were lonely."

"You've neither said nor done anything that you should be ashamed of, Siobhán. The only way we'll get through this is if we all promise to be honest about how we feel. I'd rather spend the rest of my life alone than cause any permanent rifts in our family. And the only way to avoid those rifts is to talk about them."

"Okay, I promise I'll talk to you about anything else that comes up. But Jamie helped me with the last issue. She asked me how I would feel about her remarrying if we had children and I died."

A look of absolute panic crossed his face as he gripped her more tightly.

"It's not something I like to think about either, Da, but her question was--would I mind if she fell in love and married Conor?" Martin relaxed his grip and sat back a bit.

"Would you mind?"

"Of course not," she said firmly. "I would be overjoyed for two reasons. One, I would definitely want Jamie to know love again. And two, I don't know of anyone I would trust to raise my children more than one of my brothers. I was too young to know how Mama and Aunt Maeve got along, but from what you tell me, they were very close."

He sat up slightly, one heavy arm still draped across his daughter’s shoulders. A small smile played at his lips as he asked, "Did you know that the biggest reason she came to America was so that she could be with her sister?"

"No, I didn't know that," she admitted. "You don't talk about her life in Ireland very much."

"As you know, your mother was between Maeve and Moira in age--five years younger than Maeve and three older than Moira. But she idolized her older sister from the get-go. They say she was never content from the time Maeve left home until she arrived six years later. It actually has always reminded me of how you and Conor have always gotten on, Siobhan."

"Yeah, it makes more sense that I would have been Rory's pal, but I was a goner for Conor from the day I was born."

"The affection has always gone both ways, Darlin’. That boy carried you around the house so much I thought you'd never learn how to walk. And the doctor had us a little worried that it took you so long to talk." He laughed at the memory, giving her a little squeeze. "We finally figured out the problem, and we forbade Conor to give you anything until you asked for it. Within weeks you were babbling away."

"She hasn’t stopped, Martin," Jamie laughed, giving her partner a little tickle.

"That’s the blessed truth," he agreed. "Even though you picked up words quickly once you started, you had some trouble with the names of the boys. I swear I've never seen a boy with a bigger smile than the day you could finally say Conor’s name. He was particularly happy that you didn’t even try to pronounce Brendan or Rory, but you could enunciate Conor so clearly, it was just a marvel. I can still hear it now," he smiled.

Ryan tried to sniff away her tears, looking around for a box of tissues. Jamie got up and grabbed a few, bending down to give her a small kiss as she did so. Ryan pulled her down onto her lap and rested Jamie’s head against her chest. "It's going to be okay, Da. We'll all be fine after a period of adjustment. I do think we need to give some long thought to your living situation, though. That will be hard for either Conor and Rory or Kevin. I know you couldn't afford to buy another house in the Valley at today's prices, so we'll have to do some negotiating."

"Yes, Sweetie, my biggest fear is that one or the other will think they need to move away, and I absolutely do not want that to happen."

"We'll figure out a way, Da. We've faced tougher hurdles as a family."

"I know we have Darlin’. I just want to make sure that you all feel comfortable with this before we move on."

"You know, Da, what Jamie said earlier has made me think about this in a different light. I know how much Mama loved you and I know how much she loved her sister. I can’t imagine anything that would make her as happy as knowing that you two were going to care for each other for the rest of your lives. I not only feel comfortable, I support you totally. I’m terribly happy for you, Da," she said, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tightly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes after Martin left. Ryan was sitting backwards on her desk chair, her face failing to hide her still-swirling emotions. Jamie came over to stand behind her and give her a shoulder massage, helping to ease some of the tension she could see radiating from her body. After a few minutes, her dark head started to roll with the rhythmic touch, and Jamie leaned over and whispered, "Let’s lie down together, Honey. I can give you a better massage that way."

"Okay," she agreed, rarely refusing her partner’s offer to rub her back. "Let me brush my teeth first—I know I won’t later."

She went into the bath first, and while she stood in the doorway flossing her teeth, Jamie asked a few more questions about the family situation. "I don’t think you’ve ever said much about Maeve and her husband. I know they were separated, but what was the story? I can’t imagine anyone being unable to get along with her."

Ryan chuckled at the truth of that statement. "My Uncle Charlie could have picked an argument with a lamppost if he’d had one too many," she admitted, shaking her head at the memory.

"Ooh," Jamie murmured, very sorry to hear that Maeve had been married to a difficult man.

"It wasn’t that bad until Michael was diagnosed with AIDS," she recalled. "He drank a lot, but he didn’t seem like a mean drunk until then. The fact that they found out Michael was gay at the same time didn’t help matters much. As Michael got worse, so did his Dad’s drinking, until one night about six months before Michael died, Charlie came home drunk and threw Maeve against a wall, nearly fracturing her skull. She spent the night in the hospital and when she came home, Charlie was gone."

Jamie was absolutely appalled. Maeve Driscoll was one of the kindest, gentlest women she had ever met, and it was unthinkable that her own husband would wish to cause her harm. The shock clearly showed on her face and Ryan nodded slowly. "Luckily for him, it was the first time he had ever physically harmed her. I can’t think what Da and my uncles would have done to him if he had ever touched her again."

"So what happened?" Jamie looked like she was about to cry, and Ryan regretted answering her original question in so much detail, but she was in too far to drop it now.

"His guilt, and probably his fear, over the incident overwhelmed him. He found a tiny apartment in Bernal Heights and lived apart from his family. They saw him often, but he refused to attend family functions. As his health failed, Maeve tried to convince him to return to the home, but he steadfastly refused, insisting that he had lost the right to live in his own home."

"Well, at least he had the good sense to stay away," Jamie mused.

"I guess," Ryan said slowly. "But I think it was a way to get extra attention too. Poor Aunt Maeve had to drag herself over to his apartment two and three times a day to take care of him during his last years. It would have been far preferable for her to have him back home, but you could never tell Charlie Driscoll a thing."

"When did he die?" Jamie asked, assuming it was long ago.

"Just two years ago," Ryan revealed. "Liver failure."