Disclosures - SF4 (43 page)

Cassie looked a little surprised by her actions, but merely said, "I think I left a few things in my old room. Can I take a look?"

"Uhh…." Jamie scrambled for a valid reason to keep Cassie from going into the room. Ryan’s unmistakable mark was everywhere—from the family photos atop the dresser to her clothes hung neatly in the closet. "There’s nothing left in there, Cassie. I had Maria Los clean the room thoroughly."

Cassie’s hand was on the knob, and Jamie considered grabbing her and propelling her down the stairs, but she knew she had to behave like a rational human, at least until she got rid of her former housemate.

"Maria Los was never very thorough, Jamie. I’d like to take a look around." She paused for a moment, tilting her head slightly. "Unless there is some reason you don’t want me to, that is."

"No, of course not," she said smoothly as she put one hand on Cassie’s shoulder and the other on the opposite arm. "I’ve been through the room with my normal thoroughness, though, so I know there is nothing in there of yours. I’m having the room wallpapered, so it’s completely empty now." She guided the somewhat surprised woman down the stairs, preferring to allow Cassie to have suspicions about her rather than facts.

When they returned to the living room, Jamie said, "I really hate to have to rush you, Cassie, but I’ve got some things I have to do this afternoon."

"No problem," she said, looking rather crestfallen. Jamie felt another stirring of guilt over treating her former friend so brusquely but, try as she might, she could not summon the empathy that she needed to treat her in a more compassionate way.

Extending the reading list she said, "Why don’t you e-mail me after you’ve looked at a few of these titles. I’m sure this is a hard time for you, and I’ll try to help you out in any way that I can."

"Thank you, Jamie," she said softly, a few more tears leaking out of her eyes. "You’ve been much kinder to me than I deserve."

She opened the door, still sniffing away her tears. Just as she stepped out onto the porch, a deliveryman came bounding up the stairs carrying a lovely bouquet of golden roses and sprigs of lavender. "Mrs. Ryan O’Flaherty?" he asked, looking from one woman to the other.

Her weeks of scheming were immediately fulfilled, causing a wide, satisfied grin to cross her face. "That’s your woman," Cassie said triumphantly, pointing at a stunned Jamie. The deliveryman handed the arrangement to Jamie and ran back down the stairs accompanied by Cassie’s haunting laugh. "For a minute there I thought you had finally gotten a brain, Jamie." Her glee was so great that she had difficulty forming words through her laughter. She snatched one of the roses from the bouquet and practically skipped down the stairs, adding, "When I tell you I’m gonna kick your ass, you can take it to the bank!"

Ryan came bounding up the stairs at 3:30, her helmet in one hand, the mail in the other. "Jamie?" she called, looking up the staircase as she juggled her burdens, puzzled that the Boxster was still in the driveway.

"I’m here, Ryan." A very small voice came from the upholstered chair to Ryan’s right.

One look at her partner’s face caused Ryan to drop everything with a loud clatter, and she dashed across the floor, covering the few feet that separated them in the blink of an eye. "What’s wrong? What happened?" She dropped to her knees as her hands frantically roamed across her partner’s face and body, looking for some something to explain the desolate look on her face.

"Cassie happened," she mumbled, leaning forward until her head rested on Ryan’s shoulder.

"Cassie…?" This made no sense at all, but Ryan held her questions, trying to provide the calming presence that her partner obviously needed.

"I got your flowers," she mumbled, nudging her head in the direction of the table. "Cassie was here when the delivery guy showed up."

It took a second, but the realization dawned on Ryan with a sickening thud right to her gut. She sank back onto her heels, gazing up at Jamie with a mixture of befuddlement and contrition. "Oh, Sweetheart, I am so, so sorry." Her eyes closed slowly, and she shook her head at her romantic gesture gone awry.

Jamie looked into her eyes as Ryan opened them, and she asked in a small voice, "You’re not mad at me?"

Ryan’s body snapped to attention as she got to her knees. "Mad at you? Why on earth would I be mad at you?"

"Because I invited her in," she moaned, still enormously angry with herself for letting the traitor into the house.

"I’m sure you had a good reason to let her in, Honey. Don’t give that another thought. We just have to decide what to do next." Ryan’s face held nothing but sympathy, making Jamie feel even worse.

"Mia said you wouldn’t be mad," she mumbled, unable to face her magnanimous lover.

Ryan got to her feet and extended a hand to her partner, pulling her from her chair and settling her onto the love seat. She wrapped her arms tightly around her and said, "Come on now, don’t tell me that Mia knows me better than you do."

Jamie shook her head, acknowledging that was not generally the case. "No, but…I was mad at you for letting Sara come over. This was the same thing."

Ryan laughed gently, smoothing Jamie’s hair off her forehead as she placed a soft kiss there. "No, it’s not, Baby. Unless you’ve omitted a very important part of your past, you were never in love with Cassie. My sin wasn’t that I let an old friend come to apologize. It was that I let someone that I cared for a great deal come over when I was alone. There was a risk of temptation there that I should have recognized."

Jamie sat up a little and rolled her eyes. "Not only haven’t I loved Cassie, I’ve often not even liked her," she agreed. "But one thing this incident did is let me see how easy it was for you to allow Sara to come over. It’s very tempting to have someone who hurt you try to make amends."

Ryan’s eyes closed briefly, and she hugged her partner tight. "Thank you for saying that," she whispered. "I was tempted, but I never will be again." They sat in silence for a few moments, letting the events of the day run through their minds. "I’m just a little miffed about one thing, though," Ryan admitted. "Why didn’t you page me?"

Jamie shrugged, knowing that she didn’t have a good reason. "I was embarrassed," she admitted. "I felt like it was all my fault."

"Jamie," Ryan soothed. "Having this come out doesn’t hurt me, Love. Everybody in my life knows about us." She paused for a moment, recalling that her statement was not technically true, then decided to rectify that oversight that very day.

"I know, Honey," she agreed. "Mia knocked some sense into me. She also agrees that Cassie and her mother are probably on their way to my mother’s house even as we speak."

Ryan sat up in shock, finally grasping the complexity of the situation. "What should we do?"

"Relax, Hon, I handled it."

Ryan cocked her head, waiting for the explanation.

"I called Marta and found out that Mother isn’t due home from Italy until Saturday afternoon. Marta agreed to hold any messages from Laura Martin until I came down there."

"How did you explain that little request?" Ryan wondered.

"It wasn’t fun, but I’ve never asked Marta to bail me out of trouble before. I guess she figured I was due. I just said that I needed to talk to my mother before Mrs. Martin got to her, and Marta promised she would help me out."

"No questions?"

"Nope. She’s not the type to pry."

Ryan nodded, figuring that attribute could go a long way to insuring longevity as a domestic. "So…we’ll go down on Saturday and tell them?"

Jamie gave her partner an immensely grateful look—terribly pleased that Ryan assumed they would do the deed together. "I appreciate that you want to go with me, Honey, but I think it would go better if I talked to them alone. I thought I could play golf with Daddy in the morning, and then go down to Hillsborough with him afterwards to tell Mother."

Ryan settled back into the love seat, pulling Jamie close. She nodded her head slowly, knowing that Jamie’s plan was wise, but wishing she could bear some of the burden for her. With a start, she realized that another vital member of Jamie’s support team was not available either. "Bummer of a time to have your therapist on vacation, Babe."

Jamie nodded, adding a wry chuckle. "Thankfully, my grandfather is in town. He’s coming over for dinner."

"Mmm, a therapist that makes house calls. Now that’s a good thing."

When Rev. Evans arrived they all spent a few minutes discussing the events of the afternoon. By prior agreement, Ryan left them to continue the discussion alone. She went to Jamie’s room and booted up her computer, mulling over the task she had assigned to herself.

I didn’t think it would take me this long to come out to my grandparents
, she thought.
I’m not even sure why I’ve delayed so long.
She mulled the issue over in her mind, finally acknowledging that it had been easier to leave it unsaid.

John and Brigid Ryan were in their 80’s, and neither was very worldly. They lived in a very small town--a village, really--in County Mayo on the northwest tip of Ireland. Their village consisted of a Catholic church, a four-room National School, a "necessaries" store that doubled as a post office and bank, a pub, a take-away fish and chips shop, and one small store that seemed to change hands every time Ryan visited. It had been everything from a florist shop to a music/video store, but the town just could not support the ventures.

John Ryan had been a fisherman, working on various vessels in the commercial fleet that plied the cold sea that abutted their village . He had retired when Ryan was quite small, but his profession soon became his only hobby. Most days he could be found on one of the small streams and rivers that blanketed the region, fishing for whatever was running during that particular season.

Brigid Casey Ryan was clearly the force to be reckoned with in the Ryan family. She had an opinion on nearly every topic, and she was more than willing to share it with you, whether you wished to hear it or not. Her headstrong, rather closed-minded outlook had been the deciding factor in keeping Ryan from being honest with them about her sexual orientation, but she decided that if Jamie could do it, she could do it.

An hour and a half later her screen remained blank. When Jamie went to call her for dinner she was lying on the bed, hands laced behind her head, with a very contemplative look on her face. "Honey?" Jamie said, causing Ryan to start.

She shook her head and gazed at her partner. "Whoa…I was really out of it there." Getting to her feet she approached her partner and rested her hands on her shoulders. "Everything okay, Honey?"

A small nod accompanied by a gentle smile was all the reassurance that Ryan needed. "Yeah…I feel pretty good. Poppa has really calmed me down."

Ryan wrapped her in a hug and murmured into her hair, "I’m so glad to hear that. And I’m so glad you have him in your life."

"Me too," Jamie agreed. "We thought we’d grill some salmon steaks outside. Will you perform your usual grill duties?"

"My pleasure. Nothing I like better than showing off for my girl."

Jamie gave her a playful swat to the seat. "No wonder you’re in such a good mood all of the time, Buffy!"

Rev. Evans left early, at about eight o’clock. Jamie insisted on cleaning up alone, since Ryan had done all of the cooking, so Ryan decided to make another attempt at writing her letter.

Jamie came up to find her sitting at a blank computer screen, a faraway look in her eyes. "What’s up, Babe?" she asked, standing behind Ryan and giving her scalp a little scratch.

"I’ve decided that I need to finally write that letter to my grandparents. I want them to know all about you," she said with a smile as she turned her head to meet Jamie’s eyes.

"That’s sweet," she said, leaning over to kiss Ryan’s cheek. "Looks like you’re having a little trouble getting started."

"Yeah, I am. I write to them about once a month but I never really tell them anything personal. I’ve mentioned you before but not to an extent that would let them know what you mean to me," she admitted.

"Are you sure you’re ready to do this?" Jamie asked gently, letting her hands drop to Ryan’s shoulders to continue the rub.

"Yeah. Absolutely," Ryan said firmly. "I’m angry at myself for waiting this long."

"What do you want them to know?" she asked as she grasped Ryan by the shoulders and turned her around in her swivel chair.

"Hmm, I guess I want them to know that I’ve fallen in love and that I’m going to spend my life with you. I want them to know that I’m permanently committed to you, and that you make me happier than I had any expectation of being. And I want them to consider you to be my spousal equivalent."

Trailing her fingers through Ryan’s dark hair, she shared some of the advice her grandfather had just given her. "That’s asking a lot," she mused when she considered Ryan’s list. "I don’t think you can ask for them to consider me your spouse, Honey. I think all you can do is treat me like your spouse and hope they do the same."

Ryan leaned back in her chair and considered this for a moment. "I see your point. I can hope they are open-minded, but I can’t really demand that of them."

"Exactly," Jamie said as she kissed her partner on the top of her head. "You know, I don’t really know how you feel about your grandparents. How do you get along?" She sat down on the bed and kicked off her shoes, placing her feet onto Ryan’s lap on the off chance that her partner wanted to rub them for her.