"Okay," Ryan replied, a little doubtful. She did as she was told and felt herself approximate Jamie's swing. "Hey, that works!" she beamed.
"Don't really think about the club, don't think about hitting the ball. Just concentrate on tossing that big weight," Jamie instructed. She handed Ryan a 5 iron and showed her how to sole the club. She bent over and placed a ball in front of the club. "Give it a whack," she exhorted.
Ryan did so, and made very acceptable contact with the little white ball. The ball shot out past the 100 yard marker and she looked up with a big grin flashing those perfect white teeth. "That was fun!" she said gleefully. "Shall I stop while I'm ahead?"
"Nope, we're gonna hit all of these babies," she said as she poked the bucket of balls.
Ryan got to work, and did an admirable job of dispatching each of the little orbs. When she would whiff one or two Jamie stood behind her and gave her a few simple tips. After watching her for a while she commented, "You'll do a lot better if you loosen your grip on the club. Think about caressing it rather than gripping it." Ryan gave her a cute little smirk but applied her tip and found the results to be quite successful. By the time she was finished her sweater was off and her cheeks were flushed bright pink. She spent a good deal of time just watching Jamie. She was very impressed with her friend's skill. She seemed very comfortable, very much in control of her body.
She's really a good little athlete
, she thought.
Jamie used all of the clubs in her bag to warm up, but she instructed Ryan to stick with the irons for the time being. "Are you ready to hit the links?" Jamie asked brightly when she had finished her bucket.
"If you've got the nerve to play with me, I'm ready."
"My guess is you'd be beating me like a drum in six months if you played regularly," she admitted. "I think I'd better take advantage of you while you're a neophyte."
They hopped in the little cart, with Ryan at the wheel as promised. Ryan drove carefully over to the starter. "Hi, Miss Evans," he greeted her. "Playing alone today, or would you like me to pair you up?"
"We'd like to play alone, Donald. Can we tee off now?"
"Yep. You're cleared for takeoff. Have a good round, ladies."
Jamie was very impressed with how easily Ryan took to the game. She was strong and tall and her balance was very good. She concentrated during her swing, but was relaxed and playful when one of them was not actually addressing the ball. She had no idea what to do with her pitching or sand wedges and they had spent no time at all on putting. So her short game was non-existent. But her iron play was admirable. Of course she hit her share of clinkers, but accomplished players did that frequently. She didn't keep score, as Jamie told her not to focus on scoring, but instead to focus on feel.
Jamie kept score and seemed quite pleased with her game. Ryan enjoyed the look of intense concentration on her face before she hit a shot. When Jamie missed a shot, she didn't get angry, but Ryan could tell that she went over her swing in her head, trying to figure out what she had done wrong.
The course was truly a marvel, and Ryan was tremendously impressed with the quiet and the peacefulness she felt when it appeared that they were all alone on the course. Some of the views were breathtaking and Ryan felt extremely lucky to be here with her friend.
It was nearly noon when they finished and Jamie asked hopefully, "Lunch?"
"I am famished," she admitted, "but I have a 2 o'clock gym appointment."
"Well, you were supposed to do me at 4. We could skip today if you could move your 2 o'clock."
"You are the Devil, aren't you?" she teased as she picked up the offered cell phone and checked her ever present organizer for the number.
She was pleased to be able to rearrange her sch
edule, and they spent a moment
re
fresh
ing
up in the locker room before they entered The Grill.
Ryan was impressed by the quiet understated opulence of the room. Every server knew Jamie by name, but Ryan was pleased that Jamie had taken the time to learn their names also. Martin had always told Ryan that the easiest way to judge a person was to see how they treated food servers. Ryan was pleased to see that Jamie did very well on this test. Ryan ordered a delicious turkey club and a tart fresh lemonade. Jamie had a chicken Caesar salad and a glass of iced tea.
Jamie signed for the bill as she had all day. Ryan pondered how she would repay her, and finally reached a decision. "Jamie, I can't tell you how much I've enjoyed today," she said sincerely. "But I feel like our friendship has reached a close enough level that I feel uncomfortable having you pay me to train you," she held up her hand to stop Jamie's protest. "Yes, I know that this is my profession, and that I would be able to work with a paying customer if I wasn't working with you. But I want to give my talents to you, Jamie. I don't want you to pay for them anymore."
"But Ryan," she protested. "That's $375 a week you could be earning."
"I'm well aware of that, Jamie," she said as she gazed into her sea green eyes. "But money isn't an issue between us. If we weren't working out together I'd still want to be with you, just hanging out. I really enjoy our workouts...I actually look forward to them. So please don't ask me to accept money for spending 3 enjoyable hours with you a week. At this point in our relationship I just can't accept it."
"Okay," Jamie agreed reluctantly as she gazed back into those mesmerizing eyes. "I can tell that you've made up your mind. But can I bring you to play golf every once in a while?"
"Deal," Ryan replied as they shock hands on the agreement.
Ryan had just enough time for Jamie to drop her off at home. As Jamie pulled up to the house, Conor was maneuvering his big black Dodge Ram into a nearby parking space.
Boy, he looks good in that
, she mused. He came over to the Range Rover as Ryan got out and dashed in the house to change. "Gee Jamie, do you have a different car for every day of the week?"
"No, Conor. I actually only have one. This is my father's. We borrowed it so we could play golf this morning."
"Golf? Ryan played golf?" he said in amazement. "I started playing about 5 years ago, and she hasn't stop teasing me about it since. Thanks for the ammo Jamie," he said with a twinkle. "So where did you play, Tilden?" he mentioned the name of a city course in Berkeley.
"No, we played at my father's club," she replied, hoping he wouldn't pursue the point.
"Which is...?" he inquired.
"Olympic," she said without embellishment.
"You took Ryan to play at The Olympic Club?" he said, his mouth hanging open in shock. "Are you still a member, or did they throw you out?" he teased.
"She did very, very well, I'll have you know. I've been playing since I was six, and I bet she could beat me within the year if she worked at it. She's such a gifted athlete," she said admiringly.
"Oh, she'll work at it, all right. She owes me at least 20 rounds after all the teasing I've put up with. That gives me a idea for her birthday though."
"Her birthday? When is it?"
"It's Friday. She's going to be 23."
"I had no idea, the little rat!"
"Well, you've really helped me out. I didn't have any ideas for a present for her until now. Hey, it would be fun if Brendan and I could play as a foursome with you two sometime," he added.
"I'd like that," Jamie agreed.
Ryan was barreling down the stairs to fetch her motorcycle when she spotted Conor still at the driver's door of the Range Rover. "You can't drive that one, Conor. It's her father's," she stated with authority.
"Did you drive it?" he questioned.
"Yeah, but I'm trustworthy," she stated in a superior manner.
Jamie laughed and said, "Sorry Conor, I've got to get back to Berkeley before traffic gets bad. But next time, I'll let you drive it," she promised.
Ryan grabbed her bike from the garage and walked it up next to Conor. "What were you two talking about?" Ryan asked suspiciously.
"Oh nothing, nothing at all," he said airily as he sauntered into the house.
Ryan smiled up at Jamie and said, "I really had a fabulous day, Jamie." After a beat she added, "Have we ever had a bad time together?"
"Nope. But I'm sure I'll wear on your nerves over time," she teased.
"Don't count on it, buddy," Ryan said as she patted Jamie's cheek with an affectionate smile on her face.
One of the class projects they had agreed to tackle involved at least one day spent volunteering at a Lesbian or Gay community organization. Ryan had a long association with one such outfit and she agreed to arrange for two evening volunteer sessions at the Gay and Lesbian Teen Talk Line.
Jamie picked Ryan up from the Biology building at 6:30. They generally didn't see each other on Tuesdays but Jamie knew that it was Ryan's busiest day. She also knew that she had a tendency to ignore her own needs in order to be early for her appointments. "Have you eaten?" she inquired sternly.
"Yep," Ryan replied as she patted her flat belly. "Da fixed me a delicious spaghetti dinner which I ate with gusto."
"Good. Then let's get over there early so we can get set up." Jamie always felt more comfortable when she was early for an appointment and she knew that Ryan had the same quirk.
They drove through the streets of Berkeley and crossed over into Oakland. When they reached a rather seedy neighborhood, Ryan pointed out the building and Jamie pulled up in front. A small sign read 'G.L.T.T.L.'. "That's certainly unobtrusive enough," Jamie remarked. "Do you think they get harassed here?"
"Not that I've ever heard of," Ryan replied. "It's not a bad idea to be cautious, though."
As they went into the small building Jamie noticed several cubicles each about 6 feet in height. She could hear soft voices coming from them and she assumed that people were within each one, taking calls. Ryan confirmed this as they walked into a small office near the rear of the building. A large red-headed woman rose to greet Ryan with a big smile on her expressive face. "Ryan, I have missed you..." she said as Ryan enveloped her in a hug.
"I've missed you too, Yvonne. I really miss having the time to come help out."
"Honey, I think you still hold the honor of logging the most hours of any volunteer we've ever had. Your name is still up on the plaque," she reminded her, indicating a little wooden sign that listed the most loyal volunteers. "We're just glad to see you again," she said as she patted Ryan's back.
"Oh, Yvonne, this is my friend Jamie." Jamie nodded at Yvonne as Ryan continued, "I thought I could take calls and Jamie can listen in. If she wants to handle some, we can do that on Thursday after she feels more comfortable. Does that sound okay to you?"
"That sounds fine, Ryan. You know the drill. You can use Marsha's office to give yourselves a little more room."
Ryan thanked her and escorted Jamie to a second little office. There was a cluttered desk and it took Ryan a minute to find the phone. Once she did she searched for a pair of headphones for Jamie. She came back with the headset and hooked it in to the side of the device.
"All of the calls come in and are answered by one person. She logs them in and sets them into a cue. She tries to match the calls to the abilities of the volunteers. I requested calls from lesbians because that's more germane to our class. The operator knows that I have a lot of experience and that I'm older, so she'll probably send some tough ones our way," Ryan explained.
"But you're going to actually talk to the callers, right? And you want me to just listen?" she inquired.
"No, not just listen. I want you to observe. There are a great number of resources here and I want you to get comfortable with them," she gestured at the disarray that surrounded her, "I just don't know if I can work in all this mess," she admitted. "Sometimes my neatness fetish gets in the way."
Ryan set to work to locate all of the pertinent reference materials. She explained that Jamie could hear, but that the caller could not hear her. She told Jamie that she could mute her own voice so that they could talk about a call in progress. She pointed at a white board on the wall and told Jamie to write down any points or questions that she hadn't covered.
She looked at Jamie for a few seconds with a very serious expression. "The calls can cover anything. I've had people ask me how to use a microwave oven," she laughed. "But about 10 percent of the calls are really serious. I do my best to make appropriate referrals, but sometimes the kids' stories are truly heartbreaking. If any of the calls bother you, just let me know and we'll stop for a while to decompress, okay?"
Jamie was truly touched by Ryan's concern for her. "Thanks for looking out for me," she said with a smile. "I'll let you know if anything gets to me."
When she felt comfortable she pressed a button and told the operator she was ready. Less than a second later, the phone rang. "Gay and Lesbian Teen Talk Line, this is Ryan. How can I help you?"
The first two hours passed in a blur. Jamie was truly amazed at the astounding variety of issues that kids called about. And most of the callers were kids, she thought. They took calls from girls as young as 12, which truly shocked her. One young girl had kissed another girl at a party and she wanted to know if that made her gay; a 16 year old was sure she was gay but her Orthodox Jewish parents prohibited her from going out without being chaperoned; a 19 year old wanted help with a paper she was doing for school. Ryan didn't spend a lot of time with that call, but she knew who to refer her to and she gave her some interesting sounding web sites to look up. Ryan handled each call with professionalism but an amazing amount of empathy. She dispatched the calls as quickly as possible, but let kids ramble on if she thought they needed to.
God, she has an amazing amount of patience
, Jamie thought when a particularly non-verbal young woman could not spit out her question. Jamie jumped to her feet several times to write questions for Ryan on the board, and each time Ryan incorporated them into the call. She would generally mouth a thank you or give Jamie a grin when this happened. After two hours Ryan buzzed the operator to take a break.
Ryan stood and stretched thoroughly. After a minute she lay down on the floor and stretched her back out even more systematically. Jamie did the same, but with much less efficiency. Ryan gave her a little smile and asked if her back was stiff. When she nodded Ryan said, "Come here and put yours arms around my neck." Jamie gave her a puzzled look but did exactly as she was told. She got close and placed her hands around Ryan's neck as the taller woman leaned over to accommodate Jamie's height. "Now lock your hands together tightly," she said from mere millimeters away. Jamie again followed her instructions and was surprised to feel Ryan rise to her full height. She felt and heard the pops as each vertebra seemed to slip back into place.
"Ohhhh God, this feels good," Jamie moaned in pleasure.
"All better?" Ryan inquired with a satisfied grin.
"Pretty much," she agreed as she twisted around a little bit. "Except for one spot right in the middle," she said as she rubbed the spot with her hand.
"I've got another one for that," she replied confidently. "This time put your elbows around my neck," she instructed. Jamie felt her mouth go dry as she contemplated this move. She stood so close and Ryan leaned over so far that they were breathing the same air. The warmth of Ryan's breath on her cheek caused her heart to pick up its beat, but she gamely stood her ground and placed her arms just as Ryan instructed. This time when Ryan rose she was draped along her body and her chin rested right on her broad chest. She turned slightly so that her face lay on Ryan's clean smelling white T-shirt. They both heard an audible snap and Ryan's low laugh rumbled right through her entire body. Jamie hoped fervently that her legs would hold her when she was returned to earth. That low voice rumbled through her again. "Ready?" it asked.
"For what?" was her mumbled reply into the strong pectoral muscle.
"For me to put you down," came her deep chuckle.
"If you must," she heard herself reply after a deep sigh.
Ryan wore a bemused grin as Jamie got her legs functioning. "You really are a pleasure hound, aren't you?" she inquired with a light tone.
"Um, I can't say that I knew that about myself, but I guess I am," she replied with an embarrassed grin.
"Lucky for you that pleasure hounds are my favorite animals," Ryan intoned as she tweaked her nose.
I'm gonna have to sit on uncomfortable chairs more often.
After their little break the first really tough call of the evening came in. It was from a 14 year old girl who had been raped by her mother's boyfriend, apparently because he thought she was gay. Karen related that the man had been with her mother for about a year and had been harassing her because she didn't have a boyfriend yet. She claimed that he drank a lot and that his abuse got worse when he was drunk. Her mother worked nights as a waitress and Karen was often left at home with the boyfriend.
She said that he had come into her room on Sunday night and demanded to know why she never had boys calling. She tried to get rid of him with a flippant answer by telling him that she was a lesbian. He had flown into a rage and beat her severely and then raped her, telling her that he wasn't going to have a queer living in his house.
She was terrified to tell her mother because she was afraid that her mother would believe him rather than her. During the call she was hysterical periodically which was absolutely normal. But the hysteria was followed by long periods of silence which frightened both women. Ryan asked her directly, "Have you had any thoughts of death or killing yourself, Karen?"
Jamie looked at her with wide eyes. She thought it was a very bad idea to suggest such a thing to the girl. She was afraid that it would give her an idea that she didn't currently have. But after a long pause Karen finally answered.
"Yes," she said softly.
"Tell me about them," she urged softly.
"I keep thinking about my funeral. I think about how sorry my mom's gonna be for having him in the house. And I think about the kids from my school finally understanding how much this hurts," she gasped out.
Ryan quickly placed the call on mute and told Jamie, "I hate to do this, but we've got to trace this call. I think she may have already taken something. Go talk to Yvonne and tell her what's going on."
Jamie dashed in to Yvonne's office and hastily told her about the call, and Ryan's assessment. She ran back in after Yvonne immediately agreed to call the phone company to trace the call. During one particularly long period of silence, Ryan caught a look at Jamie's terrified face and grabbed her hand, holding it tight while she continued to talk in quiet, reassuring tones, hoping to draw Karen out again. At least 10 more minutes had passed and by now Jamie agreed with Ryan's assessment of the severity of the girl's mental state. Her voice was becoming slow and dreamy when she wasn't crying uncontrollably. Ryan had been letting her lapse into silence for a few minutes. But after another interminable silence Jamie could see the tension in Ryan's face and felt the pressure of her hand becoming more intense.
Several minutes passed and the tension in the room was unbearable. Ryan finally stood up and started to pace in a small circle. She started to talk in a louder voice, "Come on, Karen
,
talk to me. Please
,
talk to me," she pleaded. Finally she couldn't take the silence anymore and she yelled in a frustrated plea, "KAREN! FOR GOD'S SAKE!! PLEASE TALK TO ME!"
Every muscle in Jamie's body was coiled with tension. Ryan was pale and rigid as she stood in place with her eyes tightly shut. Just when Jamie was sure they had lost her an older female voice picked up the phone and identified herself as an Oakland Fire Department paramedic. She had to hang up immediately to begin resuscitation, but she promised that someone from the department would call back when they got the girl stabilized.
Ryan hit the disconnect button and sank into her chair. Her head dropped into her hands and she sat motionless for many long moments. Jamie was shaking all over and felt like she was freezing to death. When Ryan finally looked up she saw the pallor on Jamie's face and she immediately got up and shoved Jamie's head between her knees. She grabbed a paperweight from the desk and flung it against the wall. Yvonne came running and Ryan instructed her to get a cold cloth. She returned seconds later with the requested item. Ryan told her she could leave, thinking that Jamie would respond better to her alone. She placed the cloth on the back of her clammy neck and slowly massaged her tense muscles. After a few minutes she felt her begin to stir and she helped her sit up.
Jamie was still stark white but she was shaking less and Ryan guessed that she was in no danger of passing out. She helped her to her feet and guided her out of the small office. As they passed Yvonne's office Ryan said quietly, "I'll call in an hour to see how the girl is." Yvonne mouthed a thank you and Ryan nodded her acknowledgment.
As they got to the curb Ryan propped her up against the car and searched through Jamie's bag for the car keys. When she found them, she turned off the alarm and opened the passenger door. Jamie's color had not improved and Ryan began to worry that she should not have moved her. She appeared to be in shock, and Ryan hoped that being in familiar surroundings would calm her down. She had a rather vacant look in her eyes, but she seemed cognizant of where they were.
Ryan maneuvered her into the seat and belted her in securely. She ran around the car to get into the drivers seat. As she started the engine Jamie moaned loudly and started to struggle to free herself from the seat belt. Ryan unhooked her own belt and ran around to the other side. As she opened the door Jamie leaned over dangerously close to the sidewalk and began to vomit. There wasn't much Ryan could do at this point so she just knelt down and placed her hand on the back of her neck for comfort. She grabbed some tissues from the box on the floor and wiped her mouth gently. Then she lifted her back into the car and checked her vital signs. Her pulse seemed a little quick, but Ryan expected that. She reclined the seat as much as possible and placed her limp form back against the seat.