Intentions - SF9 (29 page)

"So…um…where will you…should I drop your bags at our house, or …" Ryan knew she was fumbling, but she had no idea of where the happy couple was going to live until their house was ready.

"It doesn't matter, Dear," Maeve said. "Kevin can come get me after we have a bite."

Jamie cut to the heart of the issue when she asked bluntly, "Aren't you going to sleep together? You're newlyweds, for goodness sake!"

Martin laughed at her impudence and revealed, "There's a little more to it than that, girls. We didn't talk about this on the phone, but we aren't actually, technically married."

"What?" Ryan barked out as she her head swiveled around so quickly that the car nearly swerved out of the lane.

"The problem was," Maeve explained, "that we didn't have the required three weeks to post the banns of marriage. Father tried his best, but the bishop would not allow an exemption from the rule, especially since we had both been married before."

"What's a ban of marriage?" Jamie asked, now thoroughly confused.

"It's one of the church's requirements to guard against bigamy and the like," Maeve explained. "They post the upcoming marriage for three weeks to allow anyone who has knowledge about a prior marriage to come forward. It's one area where the church encourages gossip!"

"So, what kind of married are you?" Ryan asked, thoroughly confused.

"Father married us in the church building, but he could only certify a civil marriage, so we're still not married in the eyes of the Church. But only Moira knew that. I wanted Mam and Daddy to think they'd finally witnessed the real thing."

"And knowing you two, you don't consider yourselves married at all," Ryan guessed.

"You're right on that one, Ryan," Maeve answered. "So the good news is that our January service is not just for show. It's the real deal!"

"But the bad news is…" Ryan smirked, turning and shooting a glance at her father.

"Your mind is focused on the desires of the flesh as usual," he chided her as he gave her a playful tap on the back of her head.

"Gee, Da, I didn't expect you to emulate the way Jamie and I structured our relationship," Ryan teased. "We waited for almost three months before we had sex. You want to go for the record?"

"That's enough out of you,
Siobhan
," he warned.

"My mother always said that nothing created good character like a little self-control," Maeve joked.

"Yeah, she's all about self-control," Ryan said as a grim look passed over her face.

Jamie turned slightly and caught an astonishingly similar look on Martin's face, but Maeve didn't seem to notice.

"When I was in high school, Mam gave me the lecture about self-control," the older woman related with a chuckle. "I was so terribly naïve that I truly did not know what she was talking about! All she managed to do was frighten me terribly and make me fear the boys at school. Poor Charlie really had his work cut out with the likes of me," she laughed, referring to her first husband.

"Yes, it was quite the shock when we boys got to San Francisco in the 60's," Martin related. "Ireland was still very backwater then, very provincial and proper. To be thrown over here during the beginnings of the hippie movement was quite the experience!"

"So did you avail yourself of all of the free love, Da?" Ryan asked with an impish look.

"I most certainly did not!" he insisted, a bit miffed that his daughter would even entertain such a notion. "Unlike some people I know, I was brought up with a good, healthy fear of any such behavior! The fires of hell seemed like a terrible price to pay for a fleeting pleasure!" He playfully reached into the front seat and slapped his grinning daughter on the shoulder.

Ryan's face grew serious as she turned slightly and said, "Thank you for not putting that fear in us, Da. You never made us afraid of suffering eternal damnation for expressing our sexuality."

"Well," he said thoughtfully, with a smile struggling to get out, "I certainly hope I wasn't wrong on that point. Because if I was, you'll be stuck down in the lowest rungs of hell,
Siobhan
."

"Yeah, but at least I'll have Conor to keep me company," she admitted with a big smile. "And the girls down there will be hot…in every way!"

Jamie called the house from her cell and asked Conor to cook up some oatmeal for the jet-lagged travelers. By the time they reached the house, Brendan and Kevin had joined the group to welcome the new couple home. Both Martin and Maeve were very appreciative of the welcome, their happiness supplanting their exhaustion.

Despite their fatigue, the pair managed to relate most of the details of their trip. The boys were also shocked to hear that they were not married according to church law, but after enduring some good-natured teasing, the nearly-newlyweds continued with their stories. "And which one of you little sprites was responsible for bringing a photographer all the way up from Galway?" Martin asked as he cast a stern gaze on the two women.

"Not me," Ryan said honestly. "I have no knowledge."

"I couldn't let you get married without pictures," Jamie explained quickly. "Did he do a good job?"

"He seemed a little confused," Martin admitted with a chuckle. "I don't think he'd ever been that far out of the city. But once he got used to the scale of things, he did a fine job."

"How did you arrange for that?" Ryan asked, slightly amazed.

"You can find anything on the Internet if you look hard enough," Jamie admitted.

"We truly appreciated it," Maeve said sincerely. "Everyone was so generous," she enthused. "Moira acted like she'd won the Sweepstakes this year. She even bought my dress!"

"So, how many people attended?" Ryan asked quickly, trying to steer the conversation away from money.

"Oh my, the church was nigh onto bursting," she laughed. "I'm not sure how many came, but we have the guest books here. We can count them up later."

"Did any of your family come up, Da?" Brendan asked.

"I was quite surprised, but several carloads came up from Kerry," he said proudly.

"Do you have many relatives still in Ireland, Martin?" Jamie asked.

"Oh, yes. One of the blessings of coming from a large family, Jamie. My father was one of seven, and my mother was the eldest of nine," he related. "Naturally, I've still got a few uncles and aunts there, and my first and second cousins are legion!"

"Now, what's the name of your town?" Jamie asked Maeve.

"If people know Ireland, we say we're from near Ballina-that's the big town. Our little village is Killala, and you have to be familiar with County Mayo to have even heard of it."

"How many people live there?"

"Oh, not more than 700," she advised. "It's just big enough for one pub, one shop for necessities, and of course a church."

"A town that small can support a church?" Jamie gaped.

"Oh, certainly," she said. "There are smaller villages nearby and little forks in the road with a few more people to add to the roster. Since nearly everyone is some degree of Catholic, it's actually necessary to have a church. It's a very small affair, though," she admitted. "The big church is in Ballina, and that's where the parish priest, Father McConnell, is. Father Kearney is the curate for our little church. He's the sweetest young man, didn't you think, Martin?"

"He was very nice," Martin agreed. "Even though he looked like he hadn't started to shave yet!"

"Mam says he was just ordained last June. He said we were just his fifth wedding!"

"I'm really happy it went so well," Ryan said. "But you'd better get to bed soon. Da, you have to work tomorrow, don't you?"

"Ahh, don't remind me," he scowled. "I want to stay home and just moon over my beloved half-bride."

"That's a rather odd term, but I suppose it fits," Maeve agreed happily. "I'll make you a deal, Martin. Be a good man and go to work, and I'll bring you a nice lunch. We can walk over to Mission Dolores and have a little picnic."

"You're really not going to stay overnight?" Conor asked.

"Of course not," Martin said indignantly. "Weren't you paying attention, boy? We said we're not married yet."

"It's close enough, Da," he reasoned.

"Not all of us take the laws of the faith so lightly, Conor," he said pointedly.

"Boy, I'm glad I don't have any morals," Conor mused. "That is brutal!"

They returned home at nine o'clock, and Ryan was puzzled to see that nothing in the house had been disturbed: the keys were right where they had been that morning, the note hadn't been moved, there were eight messages on the machine, and Mia's pager was dancing across the table. Jamie hit the message button on the answering machine and heard six messages from Mia's mom, as well as two from her brother, each one a little more perturbed. Jamie checked the pager and saw Mia's parents' number keyed in. "Honey, do you think they're even up there?" she asked, casting a glance at the stairs.

"How could they not be?" Ryan asked. "Jordan can't get into her apartment without her keys, and Mia never leaves without her pager. They've got to be here."

Jamie poked her head into the kitchen and saw that there was not a single thing out of place-no glasses in the sink, no dirty plates piled up on the counter. She took a look in the refrigerator and saw that all of the leftovers from the night before were still in their containers. "Honey," Jamie said, now a little worried, "they didn't eat or drink anything all day. We have to check on them."

"Okay," Ryan said, giving her partner a raised-eyebrow smile. "Check on them."

"Um…I thought maybe you could check on them," the smaller woman hinted.

"Nope. I've stayed in bed for 24 hours plenty of times. It's no big deal."

Jamie scowled at her and said, "I don't know what her mom wanted, but she sounded pissed, didn't she?"

"Yeah, a little, I guess," Ryan admitted.

The phone rang again, and Jamie answered, "Oh, hi, Mrs. Christopher. Yeah, it's Jamie. I'm good." She was rolling her eyes at Ryan the entire time, finally saying, "I just got home, and I'm not sure if she's here. I'll go check and have her call you, okay?" Her face dropped as she said, "No, it's okay, you can hold on. Be right back."

She scowled at Ryan again and ran up the stairs, pressing her ear against the door to determine if there was any sound coming from the space. When she failed to detect any movement she knocked lightly, but didn't hear any response. A louder knock still produced nothing, so she shrugged her shoulders and ran back down. "No, she's not here, Mrs. Christopher. She forgot her pager. It's lying here on the table, so that's why she hasn't called you back. Yes, she could drive a saint to drink sometimes," she chuckled. "Okay, I'll tell her, bye."

"Weird," Jamie said as she gazed at her partner. "Where in the hell do you think they are?"

Ryan gave her a frown and marched upstairs. Not bothering to knock, she opened the door to find Jordan, stark naked, her body nestled between Mia's legs, head resting upon her thigh. Her long legs were hanging off the end of the bed, the top sheet and comforter thrown to the floor, along with all of the pillows. An empty quart of Gatorade lay on top of the discarded bedding, obviously the only nourishment the pair had enjoyed. She walked over to them and lightly touched Jordan's back, shaking her head when she felt how chilled her skin was.

Ryan grasped the blonde's shoulder and gave it a shake, repeating the movement with a little more force when she didn't respond immediately. Jordan finally let out an unhappy whimper, but Ryan persisted and finally got one blue eye to open. "Time to move upstairs," Ryan whispered.

The full lips quirked into a lazy grin, and she started to shimmy up the bed. She dropped her head onto the pillow that Ryan had put into place, but now Mia's head was several inches below hers. Ryan started to move over to the other side of the bed to put a pillow under her head, but Jordan handled the situation by snaking her long arms around her and tugging her into place-curled up against her side, with Jordan's shoulder as a perfectly acceptable pillow substitute.

Ryan unfurled the sheet over their bodies and quickly tucked it in, then added the light blanket, smiling to herself when Jordan made a vague kissing sound in her direction. "I love you too," she whispered before tiptoeing out of the room.

As she closed the door, she nearly ran into Jamie, who was lurking just outside.

"Are they okay?" the smaller woman asked.

"They appear to be just fine…exhausted, but fine."

"Are they awake?" Jamie asked, having heard no speech.

"Nope. Well, Jordan was semi-conscious, but Mia's dead to the world. Even without verbal confirmation, though, I do believe that our little Jordan lost her virtue last night…and this morning…and this afternoon…and this evening…"

The excitement of the weekend caught up to both of the women, and Ryan overslept for the first time in ages. She didn't even have time for a bit of breakfast before class, running down the stairs at full tilt…then screeching to a halt at the passionate goodbye being said in the entryway.

Mia was wearing a blue silk robe, and Jordan had on her warm-ups, the only clothes she had brought with her on Saturday. Their arms were locked tightly around each other, their mouths so firmly glued to each other that they were practically fused. Ryan tiptoed around them, grabbing her book bag from the spot she had dropped it on Friday, nary a book having left the cozy nylon confines the entire weekend.