Beginnings - SF2 (13 page)

"Are we okay?" she asked quietly, trailing her fingers along Jamie's cheek.

"We're fine, Ryan," she said firmly. Grasping her hand she kissed the curved fingers gently. She pulled the hand back a bit to gaze at it carefully. "Is this my competition?" she asked with a chuckle.

Ryan gave her a slightly puzzled look but caught on quickly. "Nope, this is," she said, holding up her left hand. "Righty gets involved too but Lefty is indispensable." Raising an eyebrow she twitched her head in the direction of Jamie's hands. "How about you?"

One hand shot up as she revealed, "Right hand only. And I'm guessing that yours has a lot more miles on it," she smirked.

"Yeah," she mused, blowing on the fingers. "The odometer's about to turn over on mine. Yours got a workout last night though, didn't it?" she asked, trying to make sure there were no hard feelings.

"Not much of one," Jamie said with a wry laugh. "I think I was finished by the time you hit the stairs!"

Ryan smiled back at her and gently grasped her right hand. Bringing it close to her face she waved it back and forth in front of her nose a few times. "Smells delicious," she intoned with a sexy smile. "I can't wait to taste for myself." Leaning over she placed a gentle kiss on the shocked face and informed her, "Let's get moving. Breakfast calls!"

Jamie stared after her, feeling unable to move as the thought of her lover tasting her flooded her brain.
Paybacks are a bitch
, she moaned as her feet hit the ground.

Even though she knew her breakfast would get cold, she could not go upstairs in her abbreviated pajamas. She took a lightening quick shower and got back into yesterday's clothes, but in lieu of her own sweater she added one of Ryan's big tshirts, as much to smell her fragrance as anything else.

Running upstairs, she was pleased to see that Brendan had joined the group. All of the men greeted her warmly but Martin got up and wrapped his arms around her for a lingering hug. "I'm so happy you've chosen my little one," he murmured into her ear. "I couldn't wish a better partner for her."

She was shocked at this display of sentiment but very grateful. She was especially pleased by the way he had phrased it--as if she had done Ryan a favor just by choosing her. Blushing furiously she sat next to her lover at the table. Ryan informed her, "You've been officially given Conor's place at the table, Jamie. First change we've had in 17 years."

Now her blush grew even more furious as she took in the four smiling faces gazing at her. "Thank you, Conor," she got out as Ryan leaned over to kiss her.

"Oh, I like this arrangement much better," her tall lover commented with a wide grin. "Finally some kissing at breakfast!"

After breakfast they cleaned the kitchen in a much more cursory way than dinner called for. The women went onto the deck to soak up the remarkably bright sunshine, accompanied by a very happy Duffy. The big dog had taken to Jamie more than they had ever seen him do with anyone else. He followed her around the house as though he were her dog, causing all of the men to compliment his good taste. As soon as Jamie chose a chair he tried to share the cushion with her, so today she anticipated his needs and chose the chaise lounge. Once she was settled she patted the cushion and Duffy hopped up, lovingly nuzzling against her thigh for long minutes. "He obviously doesn't acknowledge that you prefer women," Ryan scoffed as she smiled at his antics. Leaning over to pet him as she grabbed a chair she whispered, "I know just how you feel, Duff. I fell for her the first time I saw her too."

"I'm going to become an ego-maniac if I hang out here too much," Jamie declared. "All I get are compliments!"

"That's all you deserve," Ryan said, somewhat seriously.

To deflect the focus from herself Jamie said, "I'd better put some sunblock on. Do you need any?"

"Huh-uh," Ryan advised. "It's in my medicine cabinet."

Jamie returned moments later, rubbing her SPF 15 in as she walked.

"I guess your tan lets you stay out as long as you want, huh?"

"I don't really have a tan," Ryan said. "And I do use sunblock. I usually put it on my face, neck and arms as soon as I get out of the shower. Then I don't have to worry about it all day."

"But, you're very tan," she complained.

"No, I'm not," Ryan insisted. "Check it out." She pulled her t-shirt up with one hand while the other pushed her flannel pants down past her hip. Although there was about one shade of color difference between her tummy and her hip, Jamie had to agree that the untanned skin was pretty darned tan.

"But…I just assumed that because you're outside so much…"

"Nope. I'm just dark-skinned. All of us are except Rory. He got my mothers' coloring."

"But I thought the Irish were fair-skinned," she insisted.

"Most are. But the O'Flaherty's are what they sometimes call 'Black Irish'. I'm not sure if it's a compliment or not though. It's not much of a thing now but people used to look down a bit on the darker-skinned people. They used to say that they weren't pure Irish. I'd always heard that the coloring came from the sailors in the Spanish armada that came to Ireland in the 1400's. But I read an interesting web site not long ago that says that couldn't have happened. So I don't know where it comes from but I like it."

"I like it too," Jamie agreed enthusiastically. "Especially for California. Again, I believe it's part of your super-evolved genes. Your family moved to a sunny climate and your skin immediately adapted."

"Good theory, but it doesn't explain why my great grandfather was known as 'Black Jack O'Flaherty, the Terror of Tralee'." This last was said with one raised eyebrow and a rakish grin on the dark face.

"The 'Terror of Tralee'! What was he, the czar or something?"

Ryan laughed and replied, "No, just a local bare-knuckle fighter who packed a wallop."

"Wow! Do you know a lot about your family in Ireland?"

"Some," she agreed. "I only go back to Black Jack's father on my father's side, but I know of five generations on my mother's side all from the same tiny town. They were as far from nomads as you can get!"

"What do you know about this Black Jack character?" Jamie asked, obviously very interested.

"Not a lot. Only that his reputation was so fierce it filtered down to my father's generation. They didn't go to Tralee much but when they did people cut a wide swath to avoid offending any of the boys."

"Wow, that is a fierce reputation. Was he a professional?"

"Of sorts," she admitted. "It certainly wasn't like it is here with governing bodies who watched over boxing but it was how he made his living—such as it was."

"So…he wasn't successful?"

"Oh, he was very successful at boxing. But much of every purse went straight to his liver. I assume he also used his skills on his wife and children, too. Not a nice man, from all reports," she said soberly.

"God, that sounds horrible," she cried.

"Ahh, different time, different culture. The Church and the husband ruled with an iron fist. I doubt that their lives were much different from many in their town," she said with a resigned shrug of her broad shoulders.

"But that's so sad," Jamie insisted. "To drink and abuse your family."

"Sure it's sad," she agreed. "I'm just saying that it wasn't uncommon."

Her face had grown even darker and Jamie sensed that she was finished with the discussion for the moment. To move to lighter topics she asked, "Your skin does get darker in the summer doesn't it? I seem to remember my first thought of you being how white your teeth looked against your tanned face."

"Yeah, it does," she admitted. "I use block every day but I'm outside so much that I darken up in the summer. I almost got the lead in 'West Side Story' because of my skin color," she said with a laugh.

"No!"

"Yep. My senior year the drama department was casting for Maria. My music teacher begged me and begged me and I finally agreed to audition. We had a decent number of Latina's but none of the women who could sing wanted to do the play. The drama teacher loved my audition and I probably would have done it but word was out about my lesbianism and the principal not so tactfully suggested that they should go with another girl."

"They wouldn't let you be in the play because you were a lesbian?" she cried loud enough to wake Duffy and cause him to start licking her face.

"Umm, not just because I was but it was a factor. There was a lot of controversy about me and a lot of the girls were uncomfortable with me and I think she just thought it was easier to avoid the mess."

"Easier for her!" Jamie cried, outraged at the cruel way her lover had been treated.

"I didn't care that much," Ryan lied. "And just after that things started to go down that made that little slight seem like a day at the beach." Now her face had become a dark mask and Jamie scolded herself for her unerring ability to find a topic that would depress her lover.

"Well, you would have been fabulous!" she said forcefully. "And I bet you still know some of the songs, don't you?"

"A few," Ryan replied with a smirk. "I'll serenade you some night."

"Some night soon," she soothed as she wrapped her arms around Ryan's neck and pulled her over almost into the chaise. "When we're in bed, just after we've made love. I want to see you all sweaty with a satisfied grin on that beautiful face, singing to me as we fall asleep." The luminous grin and dancing eyes that greeted this wish made her reassess her ability to improve her lover's mood.
Not bad
, she smirked.
Not bad at all.

Even though the temptation was strong, Jamie refused Ryan's offer to join the family for dinner that evening. "I've got to make some progress on my big paper," she explained. "It's got to be at least 50 pages long and I don't even have a good outline yet."

"I understand," Ryan assured her, even though she was inordinately depressed by her partner's decision. "God knows I've got enough to keep me busy."

"Yeah, we should spend the evening getting caught up so we're a little less stressed this week."

"You're right…as usual," Ryan smiled as she walked her to her car. After a few minutes of giving the neighbors a free R-rated show Ryan climbed the stairs to the front door and spent a few moments on the deck, watching Jamie's car descend Noe.
Could I
be
any more lovesick?
she asked herself with a smirk.

Dinner would be ready in 45 minutes, which wasn't enough time to really make much progress on her studies. Instead, she decided to take care of some housekeeping issues. Grabbing the phone from the living room, she took it onto the deck and plugged it into the outside hookup. She then started to make a few phone calls that were a little overdue.

She started with Ally but her old friend wasn't home, so she left a brief message. "Hi, Ally, it's Ryan. Good news. Jamie and I have finally hooked up and I'm in L-O-V-E. Call me some time if you want to work out together. I've been slacking off in the weight room--other things on my mind. I hope things are going well for you. Bye."

Next on the list was Alisa Guerra, her friend, the assistant district attorney. As she dialed the memorized number she spent a moment reflecting on the relationship they had.

Alisa was almost ten years older than she. Physically, she was one of the most attractive women that Ryan had ever dated, with her long wavy black hair and deep brown eyes. But those eyes had seen a lot that had hardened Alisa and Ryan knew from the start that they could never make it as a couple. Alisa's perspective on life was always jaded and sometimes cynical and after a while that attitude wore on Ryan. Even though Alisa could find the dark cloud around every silver lining, Ryan secretly thought that there was a hidden optimist buried behind that tough shell of sarcasm. Alisa didn't seem to want a partner to help her release that lighter side, though. She actually seemed rather happy being a cynic, so Ryan took what she had to offer and was thankful for it.

They had been seeing each other for just over three years, with most of their liaisons coming after an exuberant mountain bike ride. They had drifted in and out of each other's lives but Ryan felt close to Alisa in many ways and she knew that she had to tell her about Jamie before she found out through the lesbian grapevine.

"Alisa?" she asked when a sleepy-sounding voice answered.

"Yeah," the voice croaked out. "Who the hell is it?"

"Ahhh, wrong number?" Ryan tried, but her friend had recognized her voice by this time.

"O'Flaherty," she said with pleasure. "Where the hell have you been? I could really use a fill up, Baby. My tank is dangerously low." Her lightly accented, honey smooth voice dropped into it's lowest, sexiest register as she said this and Ryan felt just the slightest stirrings of desire trickle down her spine.

"Ahhh, that's kinda why I wanted to call, Alisa…" she began, but the sexy voice cut her off.

"I'm already in bed, Querida, come on over and remind me why I love to see you."

"Umm," Ryan gulped. "You see Alisa…it's ahh…well, I can't come over any more…"

"What?" she snapped sharply. "Why can't you come over?"

Ryan shook her head slightly as she recalled why she had always thought Alisa would be a good trial attorney. She had an uncanny knack for lulling someone into an unguarded moment but in an instant could pounce on them like a panther. "Because I've fallen in love," she said clearly. "I'm in a monogamous relationship."

"YOU!?" Alisa cried, sending Ryan's teeth on edge. "You, of all people, are monogamous?"

"Yes, I am," Ryan said with her own voice taking on an uncharacteristically sharp tone. "I thought I owed you a phone call, Alisa, so I'll see you around…"

"NO, no, don't hang up,
mi hija
. I'm sorry I've offended you. I just didn't think you had any interest in that type of thing. You always said you wanted to wait until you were through with school to find a lover."

Ryan felt her temper abate as Alisa tried to placate her. "That was my plan," she agreed. "But you don't always have control over your heart."

"So…tell me, Dulcita, tell me about your lover." Alisa's voice had grown warm and comforting again and Ryan found herself spilling everything about Jamie--her engagement and her confusion about her sexual orientation; her family's wealth; her well-known and powerful father. To her surprise, she even told the attorney about Jamie's attempt at reconciliation with Jack. Alisa asked few questions, but she gently encouraged Ryan to continue until the whole story was out. It had taken quite a while to tell the tale and just as she was finishing Conor poked his head out to tell her that dinner was ready.

"I've got to go, Alisa," she explained. "Dinner's ready."

"Come see me after dinner," she said firmly. "We have more to talk about."

"But Alisa," she began, but once again the older woman insisted.

"I won't touch your perfect little body, Ryan. I don't want to change your mind…I just want to talk to you."

She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as she considered the invitation. "Just talk?" she asked suspiciously.

"I promise, Ryan. Just talk."

"Okay. I'll be over about…seven," she decided as she checked her watch.

"I'll be waiting," Alisa agreed as she disconnected.

On the way over to Alisa's apartment in Bernal Heights Ryan mused that she probably should have told Jamie where she was going. She really didn't have a good read on Jamie's feelings about her past lovers, though, so she decided to tell her after the discussion was over rather than have her worry about it.

She wedged her bike into a semi-legal space between two cars that looked like they were in for the night and approached Alisa's apartment with some trepidation. She knew that nothing Alisa could offer could compromise her fidelity to Jamie but she wasn't entirely sure that her friend wouldn't try to tempt her. Alisa loved to play…and she was very good at most of the games she chose. Even though Ryan knew she could take anything her friend could dish out, she was not interested in having a scene.

Alisa's roommate Mike answered the door, and he gave Ryan a hug as she entered. "Hey, Ryan," he said happily. "Long time no see."

"Yeah, I've been pretty busy," she smiled as she entered. Mike was also an attorney in the D.A.'s office. He was straight and Ryan had met many of his girlfriends, but they never seemed to stay around for long. As she entered the living room she saw what she assumed was the girlfriend of the week and Mike confirmed this fact as he introduced her.

"Ryan, this is Ellen. Ellen…Ryan." The women shook hands as Mike said, "Alisa's in her room. Go on back."

"Good to meet you Ellen," Ryan said as she continued on through the apartment. She wasn't too happy to be consigned to Alisa's room but she didn't have much choice at that point. Knocking lightly, Alisa's warm voice bade her to enter. "Hi," Ryan said as she breathed a sigh of relief that her friend was fully dressed and sitting on the neatly-made bed.

"Hi yourself," she said as she scampered off the bed and wrapped her arms around Ryan's waist. "Can I kiss you or are your sweet lips off limits?"

Ryan gave her a smirk and a friendly kiss, adding a little squeeze for good measure. "I'm not really sure what the rules are, to tell you the truth," she admitted as she sat on Alisa's desk chair. "I've never had a steady girl before."

"I know, Querida," she said softly as she ran her fingers through Ryan's hair in an almost maternal gesture. "That's why I wanted to talk to you. Let me get us a glass of wine, okay?"

"Okay," Ryan said. "I'm not going to study tonight anyway."

Alisa's laugh floated over her shoulder as she left the room for the kitchen. "You could pass every class without opening a book and you know it. That struggling student act doesn't work with me."

Ryan laughed at her friend's teasing, admitting the truth of her statement. She knew that Alisa had also done exceptionally well in school, earning a full scholarship to Stanford undergrad as well as a free ride at Harvard Law School. The gorgeous, poised woman could have had her choice of any law firm in the city and Ryan mused that Alisa must have been courted by Jamie's father's firm. But she had political aspirations and she thought the D.A.'s office was the best way to move up in the public eye.

Alisa had done very well for herself as a prosecutor. She had been promoted three times in her seven years and was now prosecuting high-profile death penalty cases. Ryan knew that Alisa was very committed to working for the Latino community and she had every confidence that someday her friend would make it in politics if she continued on that path. But she also knew that Alisa would probably never have a permanent lover as long as she sought that goal. Lesbianism was no longer an insurmountable bar in San Francisco politics, but such was not the case in the Latino community. Alisa had told Ryan on many occasions that her own father would disown her if she ever admitted to her lesbianism and she firmly believed that her political aspirations would be foiled if her private life was revealed. So she dated a lot but kept the relationships mostly sexual. Ryan had a lot of empathy for her friend's dilemma but she privately thought that perhaps Alisa used her reasons as a shield so she didn't have to risk being in a more intimate relationship. She wasn't going to figure that out tonight, though, so she brushed the thoughts away as her friend returned with two glasses of red wine. "Cabernet okay?" she asked.

"Perfect," Ryan agreed as she accepted the glass.

Alisa clinked the rims together and toasted, "To happy endings." She leaned over and placed another very gentle kiss on Ryan's lips and pulled back a little to lightly stroke her face. "I wish you every happiness, Ryan. You deserve only the best."

"Thank you, Alisa," she said softly. "That means a lot." They resumed their previous seats with Ryan astride the wooden-backed desk chair and Alisa sitting cross-legged on the bed. "So what did you want to talk about?" she asked after she took a sip of the tannin-rich wine.

"I'm concerned about you, Ryan," she admitted. "I don't want you to get hurt and I'm afraid that you're setting yourself up to do just that."

"Because…" Ryan drawled.

"You know why," Alisa said gently. "Straight girls are the kiss of death, Querida. And I don't want her to break your sweet little heart when she goes back to men. She will do so, Ryan. They always do."

Ryan knew that her friend was speaking from painful personal experience. She and Alisa had spent the better part of a weekend once eating carryout and drinking wine while they tearfully confessed their broken hearts. Alisa's wounds were just as deep as Ryan's and even though the stories had different results, they were equally painful.

Alisa had fallen in love for the first time in college. The object of her affection was a teaching assistant in the political science department at Stanford when Alisa was an undergraduate. Linda had equally strong feelings for Alisa but she steadfastly refused to be open about their relationship. The end came rather violently when an acquaintance had greeted them on campus one day by asking Alisa if Linda was the mysterious girlfriend that none of her friends had met. Linda had been polite as she denied their involvement to the woman but as soon as they were alone she told Alisa she couldn't see her any longer. All of Alisa's attempts to contact her were rebuffed and less than six months later Linda married a professor in the Spanish language department. Linda had gone on to earn her doctorate and the last Alisa had heard she was on the faculty at Stanford and had just published a book on the increasing political clout of Latinos in California politics.

"I know that's a possibility, Alisa," Ryan said. "But there are risks with any lover. Anyone can break your heart."

"Not like a straight girl," she said bitterly. "That is the worst! To love you and be pleasured by you and then to run back to their safe little world when things get difficult…it is…it is horrible," she concluded, her shoulders now slumped in defeat. "It is different for us, Ryan. We have no choice…we either love women or we don't love at all. But a straight girl can always choose the other way…and they will!"

"Jamie won't," Ryan said firmly, her face full of confidence.

"Ryan, sweetheart, you already told me that she tried to go back once. What made her do that? Did she have a bad experience when she told someone about you?"

Ryan had to take in a calming breath before she could answer. She knew that the truth was strong evidence for Alisa's point but she had no interest in being less than forthright with her old friend. "She hasn't told anyone yet. To be honest she tried to reconcile with her fiancé just because she was afraid of committing to being gay."

Alisa tried to jump in but Ryan held up a hand, asking for a moment to complete her thought. "She worked that through, Alisa. She really regrets that she tried to take the easy way out and she's spent a lot of time in therapy trying to get comfortable."