Disclosures - SF4 (8 page)

"It’s so nice to have your support," Ryan insisted. "It’s meant an awful lot to both Jamie and me."

"You’ll always have it," he replied confidently, grasping Ryan’s shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I’ll help you both in any way possible."

"Maybe it’s just the day and the freedom I feel, but I think I’m going to tell my parents soon, Poppa," Jamie informed him.

"You are?" Ryan blinked in surprise.

"Yeah…I don’t see any point in waiting, Honey. You’re my life, and they need to either accept that, or get out of the way and let us start our lives together. I think they need to know."

Ryan continued to blink at her, unsure of what her response should be. Rev. Evans patted Jamie on the back and offered, "Let’s get together and strategize before you do that, Honey. I can offer you some tips that you might not have thought about."

"Okay, Poppa," she agreed immediately. "I’m not quite ready, and I haven’t really discussed it at any length in therapy, but I want to do it soon. Let’s get together for dinner. Is Friday okay?"

"Yes, I can make Friday," he said. "Is that good for you, Ryan?"

"Sure. My schedule is all about Jamie," she grinned.

"Excellent. Call me later in the week and we’ll decide on the details, okay, honey?"

"Will do, Poppa," she agreed, giving him another hug. "We’ll see you then."

Walking away from the booth, Ryan asked, "Do you happen to have a feather on you, Love?"

"A feather? Ahhh, why would I need a feather?"

"I just wanted to see if you could, in fact, knock me over with one," Ryan mused, giving the question serious consideration.

"Does it really surprise you that I want to tell my parents, Honey?" Jamie stopped and tugged Ryan to a halt beside her. "I guess I should have asked you first, Ryan. I’m sorry that it didn’t dawn on me to."

"No, no," Ryan soothed, fluffing the golden bangs that framed Jamie’s face. "I don’t want you to ask me for permission to do what you need to do, Hon. It just took me by surprise, that’s all."

"Do you think it’s a bad idea?" Jamie queried, now a little concerned by Ryan’s apparent reticence.

The taller woman took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she considered the issue. "No, I don’t think it’s a bad idea," she said. "I guess I’m afraid that it’s going to be stressful, though. A large part of me wants to maintain this euphoria that we’re in for as long as possible." She had such a wistful, lovesick expression on her face that Jamie just had to kiss her tempting lips. They stood in a tender embrace for a long while, oblivious to every person that passed.

"I didn’t think of it like that," Jamie murmured as they broke apart. "It’s a good point though. I’ll wait until the euphoria dies down, then I’ll tell them."

"Now, Honey," Ryan informed her, "let’s not get carried away. The average life expectancy for a man is only 75. I think we should tell them before that!"

"You are soooo cute!" the smaller woman cooed, holding Ryan’s face in such a tight squeeze that her lips went from their normal horizontal orientation to a vertical one.

Jamie placed a few more kisses on the newly oriented lips, deciding that she couldn’t get enough of the pink flesh, no matter how it was placed.

By the time late afternoon rolled around, they had seen every booth and said hello to most of the gay and lesbian population of the San Francisco Bay Area. Once again, Jamie was taken aback by the sheer number of people that her partner knew. "It still boggles my mind how you know all of these people and remember their names," she said as they walked toward one of the dance floors.

"Well, I am pretty good with names, Jamie, and I didn’t just meet most of these people once or twice. I worked at the largest gay gym in the whole Bay Area since I was 17, and tons of people belong there. I met lots more on the AIDS Rides, and got to know lots more through women that I dated. It all starts to add up."

"Add to that a few thousand women who’ve known you in the biblical sense, and you get an even better picture," Jamie teased, sneaking her fingers just underneath Ryan’s ribs, a lethal spot.

Ryan slung an arm around her partner’s shoulders and guided her towards the dance floor. A nice, slow number was playing and as they began to sway to the music, Ryan commented, "You know, I was worried about how you would be with the women I’ve ‘known’ before. You’ve actually surprised me quite a bit. You seemed jealous of them before we got together, but now you seem fine with it."

"I really was jealous then," the smaller woman laughed, only slightly embarrassed by her behavior. "It’s just that I had all of these feelings for you, and I couldn’t express them or even think about them much. I think they came out as irrational jealousy."

"And now?" Ryan’s deep voice burred against her ear as the taller woman leaned over and let the tip of her tongue caress the outer edge of her partner’s ear.

"Huh?" Several moments had passed, and Jamie sensed it was her turn to talk, but she didn’t know about what.

"And you are not jealous now…" Ryan prompted, taking a swipe at the tempting ear once again.

"Honey," Jamie’s voice floated up to Ryan," if you want to have a conversation, you have to stop that."

"Which would you rather have?" Ryan queried. "This…" another long swipe of her warm tongue, "or conversation?"

"Ummm…can I get back to you on that?" Jamie’s somewhat breathless voice replied. "I’m concentrating on something right now." She craned her neck just enough to allow Ryan full access to her other ear. "Continue," she commanded, while sliding her arms around Ryan’s trim waist, holding her close.

Jamie lost track of how many dances they shared, but when they finally stopped they were both sweaty and tired. "You are so cute!" the smaller woman said as they left the dance floor to grab a beer.

"Why am I so cute today?" Ryan grinned in reply.

"You’re cute every day, Goofy. But it’s adorable how you turned down all of those women who wanted to dance with you."

"Hey, I said nothing but the truth," Ryan insisted.

"You told every woman that you had promised the next dance to your spouse," she teased, recalling that Ryan used the same line every time.

"And that’s the truth," Ryan repeated, her blue eyes darkening as she grew serious. She turned to face Jamie, holding her hands up to her lips, where she kissed each one reverently. "Every dance, for the rest of my life, is promised to my beloved spouse."

While they enjoyed a cold beer, they relaxed in the grass to listen to the music from the main stage. It didn’t take long for the events of the day to catch up with both of them and in no time they were sound asleep, curled up together like newborn pups.

Their impromptu nap lasted almost an hour, but they were both relatively refreshed when they woke. "Ready to head home, Love?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah." Jamie stretched and yawned for several moments, getting all of the kinks out. "I guess we’d better. It’s a long walk from Muni."

"I think I’ll page Conor from the station and see if he’ll meet us. I’m beat!"

"Thank God for large families," Jamie agreed wholeheartedly. "There’s almost always someone at home!"

Conor immediately agreed to fetch them, giving his sister pause. "That’s odd," she muttered when she returned to the station platform. "He didn’t make me promise to do anything to pay him back. I usually have to at least wash his car for a ride somewhere."

"Maybe he’s being particularly nice because it’s Gay Pride Day," Jamie suggested.

"Yeah…that sounds like him," Ryan agreed with a good bit of sarcasm in her voice.

Muni was exceptionally crowded for a Sunday afternoon, but a train arrived after just a short wait on the cool, damp subway platform. The closest stop to the O’Flaherty home was Castro, but Ryan knew it would be a madhouse in the neighborhood, so she suggested that Conor pick them up at the stop just prior to that. They weren’t able to find seats together, forced to claim aisle seats, one in front of the other. Jamie was still buzzing from the energy and excitement of the day, and she continually perched on the edge of her seat, leaning close to speak into Ryan’s ear.

Ryan was quite a bit calmer than her partner, having experienced the parade and festival many times, but she recalled how she felt the first time she participated in the event, and she happily shared in Jamie’s enthusiasm.

Unconsciously, the smaller woman played with Ryan’s dark hair, pulling stray locks from the collar of her T-shirt as she kept up her running commentary on the day. Her actions were more nervous habit than sensual, but she couldn’t stand even the foot of separation between them, and the gentle caresses helped calm her.

Ryan, as usual, soaked up the touch greedily. Her eyes fluttered closed as her head dropped onto the plastic handrail on her seat back, allowing Jamie greater access.

Even though her partner didn’t verbally respond much, Jamie kept up her rambling chat, covering many of the sights and events that had captured her imagination throughout the day. Looking around, the smaller woman commented, "It’s so odd to see so many gay people on the train, isn’t it honey?"

"Umm-hmm," Ryan responded lazily, silently hoping for the delightful head scratching to continue. "S’nice."

"I think you’re placating me, my sweet," the masseuse giggled, leaning in just a few inches to place a very gentle kiss onto the crown of Ryan’s head. She added a few more scalp scratches, then sat back into her own seat, looking around the crowded car some more. Several same-sex couples were holding hands or snuggling a bit, and a few leather-clad men were striking poses as they held on to the overhead rail. As her eyes trailed past a young mother with a four-or five-year-old girl on her lap, she was shocked to get in return the most hate-filled look she had ever received. Her mouth dropped open and her stomach flipped queasily as she made, and held, eye contact with the young woman. The woman looked to be about her own age, and she gave no clear indication that she was a tourist, but there was something about her that gave the impression that she was not a native of the city. Her style of dress was more conservative than most young San Franciscans, and behind her venomous glare Jamie detected a stark fear of…her.
She’s afraid of us!!
Her mind reeled from the combination of blatant hostility and obvious fright that covered the young woman’s face, twisting her plain, but attractive, face into a gruesome mask.

Their gaze only held for a moment before the woman shifted her daughter so that the child faced the window, obviously trying to protect the girl from…whatever it was that was disturbing her so profoundly.

They were nearing their stop, and Ryan snapped out of her haze to struggle to her feet, casually sticking her hand out to grab Jamie’s. For the first time in their short union, the blonde felt a flash of embarrassment at accepting the nearly-automatic gesture, and she just gave Ryan a quick pat to let her know she was behind her.

The woman had obviously been trying to banish her fear, and she was plainly successful, for as they passed she looked up at Jamie and spoke in a clear voice. "Godless heathen! Repent before you are damned for all eternity!"

The train was coming to a stop as the words left her mouth, but Ryan heard them, and she whirled to face the woman, catching a glimpse of Jamie’s wounded look. "What did you say?" she spat out, freezing the woman with one fierce look. Jamie pushed past and grabbed Ryan’s upper arm firmly, tugging her towards the door as a few other people struggled to exit.

Ryan flicked her gaze from Jamie to the now-terrified woman several times, softening her features when she saw the pleading look in her lover’s eyes. Immediately deciding where her priorities lay, she followed her partner out the door, not bothering to engage in a battle of wits with a narrow-minded homophobe.

Ryan tugged Jamie onto a bench on the cool, acrid-smelling subway platform. "What happened?" she asked gently.

The words came out in a rush. "She was staring at me, because…because I was touching your h…h…hair." The smaller woman shook her head roughly, trying to make sense of the encounter. "I’ve never, ever had anyone look at me with so much hate in their eyes, Ryan."

Ryan’s heart clutched in her chest at the injured, fragile green eyes that looked up at her. Her eyes fluttered closed with the memory of the first time she had been treated with the same venom, all because she had the temerity to love a woman. "I would do anything," she whispered, her voice sounding strangely loud on the near-silent platform, "anything to spare you from that type of intolerance." Her broad shoulders slumped in defeat as she admitted the truth. "But I can’t, Jamie. God, I wish I could, but I can’t." Her head dropped onto Jamie’s shoulder, and they held each other tenderly for a moment, until they heard footsteps scampering down the stairs. They broke their embrace, neither up to another encounter at the moment. Slowly, they walked to the escalator, standing close enough to brush shoulders, but not holding hands in their usual manner.

Conor was waiting patiently in the truck, and with a conspiratorial glance, the women silently agreed not to mention the incident. Caitlin was still in his care, but she was none too happy to be in her car seat. He was turned around in his seat, running through his normal tricks to calm her, but nothing was working. Jamie hopped in the front as Ryan opened the rear passenger door of the king-cab pickup and climbed in. The crying paused for one blessed moment, but resumed immediately. "What’s the problem?" Ryan asked, launching into her usual baby-pacifying repertoire.