Table of Contents

- PART ONE

- PART TWO

- PART THREE

- PART FOUR

- PART FIVE

- PART SIX

- PART SEVEN

- PART EIGHT

- PART NINE

- PART TEN

- PART ELEVEN

- PART TWELVE

I FOUND MY HEART IN

SAN FRANCISCO

BOOK 16

PARADIGM

BY SUSAN X MEAGHER

Ebook by

PDAFiction.com

PARADIGM

PART ONE

JAMIE EVANS OPENED her eyes slowly, hoping she’d be greeted by the quiet stillness of the dark of night. Instead, she noted bright, clear light peeking through the curtains. Curtains?

There was no sound save that of cool air blowing from the air conditioner. Air conditioner?

Quicker than she would have liked, her mind cleared and she recalled they were in Los Angeles, at another nondescript hotel. She turned her head and saw that Ryan was wide awake—lying on her back with an ankle crossed over her raised knee. She didn’t move, which indicated to Jamie that she was lost in thought.

Shifting the tiniest bit, Jamie blinked to clear her eyes and looked at her lover for a few moments. Her hair was severely mussed, long strands draped over her forehead. Normally clear eyes were a little puffy and slightly bloodshot. But those little imperfections didn’t diminish the pure, unadulterated beauty that nearly always caught Jamie by surprise when she spent time gazing at her partner. Even though Ryan was, by any account, a beautiful woman, Jamie knew that her true beauty wasn’t in her features or her form. It was the indefinable “Ryanness” that made her so incalculably lovely. And no matter how many years passed, Jamie knew that the Ryanness would only grow more attractive to her. She wasn’t sure how she knew this to be true, but she would have staked her life on it.

As usual, she couldn’t look at Ryan for long before her lover’s senses detected her wakefulness. Head turning, eyes brightening, Ryan leaned over and kissed Jamie’s forehead. “Morning, princess.”

“Hi. Been awake long?”

“Eh.” Ryan shrugged. “Not sure.”

“Was it dark when you woke up?”

“Nope.”

Jamie checked her watch. “It’s just 7:00. I’m not sure when sunrise was, but it couldn’t have been too long ago. Whatcha thinking about?”

“School.”

Seeing that her lover was rather monosyllabic this morning, Jamie prodded, “What about school?”

Ryan looked at her and said, “The end.”

“Like graduation?”

A small, firm head shake was Ryan’s preliminary answer. She looked blankly into the distance. “The end, in general. I’m not sure I’m ready for it.”

Pulling herself up towards the head of the bed by using her good elbow, Jamie arranged a few pillows behind her back and leaned against Ryan. “More, please.”

Ryan’s head swiveled and she showed an off-center grin. “Not verbal yet.”

“Okay.” Jamie started to rub her partner’s bare belly, smiling when goose bumps appeared immediately. “Let me guess; I’m getting pretty good at that.” She pressed her lips together and thought for a minute. “Is it creeping up on you too fast?”

Ryan nodded.

“Do you feel unprepared?”

Another nod.

“Worried about your French exam?”

A dismissive shake of the head.

“Sorry,” Jamie said, sliding her hand up to pinch Ryan’s side. “I forgot you don’t have scholastic worries like the rest of us dopes.”

Ryan gave her an evil look.

“Well, you don’t!” She thought for another few seconds and tried again. “I assume this feels like a big transition for you.”

The nod was a little more pronounced this time.

When Jamie saw that, she knew the answer. “Cal feels a little like home for you, doesn’t it, baby.” Immediately, she could see tears form in Ryan’s eyes. She sat up and put her arms around her and gave her a squeeze. “It’s gone too fast for me too. Especially these last two years.”

Ryan pulled away from the hug and fell back against her pillows. “Yeah. Too fast. I barely noticed the time flying by. I hate that.”

“It’s hard not to have the time fly by when you fill every moment, honey.”

Jamie’s voice was soft and didn’t contain a shred of judgment, but Ryan shot her a quick look. “Meaning?”

“Just what I said. You pack your days so full that each one seems long, but they kinda run together, don’t they?”

“Like…what exactly?”

Her expression was closed and Jamie couldn’t tell if she was going to snap at her or if she sincerely wanted to hear her opinion. “Like…uhm…” She looked around the room. “…like this. We’ve both woken up in so many anonymous rooms this year that I can never tell where I am. The first night we slept together I remember waking up and knowing we were at The Osprey Inn. It was special. Being with you was special. The whole thing is etched in my memory. But this…?” She moved her hand around, pointing at the universal armoire, table and two chairs. “We could be in Portland, Oregon or Portland, Maine and it would look the same. The games are all pretty much alike. The meals are all alike. They blur, babe.”

“And…that means…what, exactly?”

Jamie still had no idea if Ryan was perturbed or curious. “It means nothing much. Just that we’ve both been busier than most college students. We’ve played more sports, participated in more things, gotten involved in more conflicts and had more traumatic things happen to us in two years than most people have in a lifetime.”

“So what?”

Now it was clear than Ryan was miffed. Jamie wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t back off from making her point. “So, nothing. You said the time had flown by, and I offered my view on why that happened. College went five times faster than high school did for me and I think it’s because stuff started happening to me once I met you. High school was just the same old stuff—day after day.”

“So…it’s good that we’re…that I’m so busy?”

Ah, she thinks I’m blaming her. “It is what it is, baby. I was honestly just speculating.” She put her hand back on Ryan’s belly and rubbed it gently. “What’s wrong, Tiger? Feeling grouchy?”

Ryan rolled her eyes, always hating to be caught in an off mood. “A little. I got my period this morning. I’ve got cramps and my back hurts.”

“My poor punkin’.” Jamie kissed her cheek and stroked her arm. “Lie on your tummy and I’ll rub your back.”

“You don’t have to,” Ryan grumbled.

“I know I don’t have to. I like to. Gives me a chance to touch you.”

That brought a reluctant smile to the deep pink lips. “You touched me a lot last night.”

“I know. But this time I wanna comfort you, not drive you mad.”

The reluctant smile turned enthusiastic. “You did drive me mad. I’m glad we didn’t have my toys, ’cause I would have used that pile driver to make myself come again. And I don’t wanna spend the day itching while I have cramps.”

“Come on, my little lamb. Lie on your tummy.” Ryan rolled her eyes again, giving Jamie the “you don’t have to make over me” look. But Jamie had learned that right behind that look was the “if you don’t make over me, I’ll be even grumpier” persona that Ryan would never admit she had.

Ryan pushed the pillows out of the way and rolled onto her belly while Jamie got up and retrieved some moisture lotion from the bathroom. “I should have brought a heating pad,” she said. “I knew you were due right around now. Did you take some pills?”

“Yeah. But the cramps woke me up. It always takes longer to get rid of ’em when they get a head start.”

“I know, baby. But we’ll try.” She warmed some lotion in her hands and applied it to Ryan’s back, then started to work on her lower back—always the site of her discomfort.

“Umm, feels good,” Ryan mumbled into the mattress.

“We’ll fix you up. Want me to order some breakfast for us in the room?”

“Nah. It’s always cold.”

“When’s your bus to UCLA?”

“9:30. Breakfast is at 8:30.”

“No offense to the hotel, but buffet breakfasts suck. We’ll go somewhere nice. There’s a good place in Westwood.”

“Aww, Jamie.”

“Don’t give me the ‘aww Jamie’ routine. You know you love a good breakfast, and you love it more than usual when you’re not feeling well. Now just play along. Tell your buddies that I insisted and you’re too nice to refuse me.”

Ryan peeked over her shoulder. “I am.”

Leaning over, Jamie kissed the back of her neck. “You’re a living saint.”

Scooting around on the bed, Ryan put her hands under her forehead and relaxed, letting Jamie work on her spasming muscles.

“You’re right, you know,” she said, grunting out the last word when Jamie pressed hard on her.

“That you’re a saint? I know, honey.”

“Ha. Ha. You’re right that I try to put too much stuff into a day.”

“I can’t be right if I didn’t say that,” Jamie said, her tone playful.

“You meant it. I know you.”

“Then I suppose I don’t need to talk. I’ll just let you guess what I’d say.”

“That’d work,” Ryan decided, which earned her a hard pinch on the waist.

“Watch it, Tiger. I have a lot of bare skin at my disposal.”

“You know I’m teasing. You didn’t specifically say I do too much, but we both know I do. And when I’m forced to step back and assess a certain time period, I realize that I didn’t slow down enough to enjoy it.” She twisted her neck to meet Jamie’s eyes. “It woulda been nice if we’d spent the last year sitting in the library trading kisses all day. I don’t think we’ve spent more than an hour all year walking around campus together.” She dropped her face onto her hands. “Where did the time go?”

“It went into four sports, one carjacking, one troubled teenager, one pair of divorcing parents, one pair of marrying parents, one Putnam competition, one broken elbow, trying to spend time with about forty family members, and as much sex as we could manage.”

Ryan turned and met her gaze again. “Not nearly enough of that. We had a long dry spell.”

“We’re getting back to normal, sport. We’ll catch up.”

Sighing deeply, Ryan flexed her back muscles and said, “I feel like I’m always in a hurry. I should be lying here just feeling your hands, but I’m thinking about how soon I have to get into the shower to get to breakfast, how we’ll get from breakfast to the field, all kinds of details are just zooming through my head.”

Jamie leaned over and pressed her body against Ryan’s. “I understand. I do the same thing. Let’s shower and eat, and that’ll take a couple of things off your list.” She rolled off and Ryan turned over and grasped her, holding on tightly.

Nose to nose, they gazed into each other’s eyes. “I’m gonna try my best to focus today. Really try to enjoy it. This is my last trip to UCLA and I wanna remember it.”

“After breakfast, we’ll walk to the softball field. It’s not far. We can stop and smell the flowers.”

“You’ve got a deal.” Ryan released her and slipped out of bed. “Thanks for reminding me to take it a little slower.”

“Me? I swear I didn’t say any such thing,” Jamie protested, trying and failing to look innocent.

Jamie was sitting in King Student Union on Monday morning, sipping a tepid cup of coffee to force herself to stay awake. While she was glad she was learning things that would help her manage her money and organize the boyos’ building project, she wasn’t, in her heart, a business major. She missed the long class discussions of Jane Austen and Charles Dickens, finding the intricacies of the economy a very poor substitute. But she was determined to learn as much as she could, and figure out ways to apply her knowledge to achieve her goals.

Her ringing cell phone provided a very welcome distraction. She opened it immediately. “Hello?”

“Hi,” Catherine said. “Are you home?”

“We are. We got home late last night. How was your weekend? Did you do anything fun?”

“Fun?” Catherine hesitated, then said, “Nothing to speak of.”

It was the pause that did it. That slight pause made Jamie think of the things that her mother might have done, but was unwilling to share with her. It was her turn to speak, but all that filled her head were images of her mother with Giacomo: sitting on the terrace of her Milan apartment, strolling around Chelsea looking at galleries, having breakfast by the pool in Hillsborough. Catherine’s voice snapped her back to the present.

“Did you two have fun in Los Angeles?”

“Sure,” Jamie managed. She was quiet for a moment, finding herself unwilling to talk about the nice dinner they’d had. She knew her mother was involved in Ryan’s finding a trendy restaurant and securing reservations, but she couldn’t thank her. She felt as though she was unable to speak her mind, resorting to a trite, “LA’s always fun.”

“Did you have any time alone with Ryan?”

“Oh, we snatch a few hours away from the crowd whenever we can, but it’s not really a pleasure trip.”

“No, no, I suppose it isn’t.”

A good half minute passed in silence. “I’m trying to stay awake today,” Jamie said. “Even though LA is in the same time zone, I always feel a little jet-lagged after these trips.”

“It’s probably just the travel. And traveling with a group has to be more tiring than going alone.”

“Yeah, I guess it is. I’m drinking coffee, but it doesn’t seem to be working.”

“Maybe you can take some time out for a nap.”

“No, I don’t think so. Finals start soon. I’ve got a lot to stuff into my head.”

“Well, I’ll let you get back to your work, honey. I just wanted to make sure you got home all right.”

“Yeah, we did. Thanks for calling, Mom.”

“We’ll talk soon, okay?”

“Sure. I’ll give you a buzz in a few days.”

“Don’t work too hard.”

“I won’t. Bye.” She clicked off the phone, but couldn’t stop thinking about her mother and the distance that still remained between them. She desperately wanted it to end, but she didn’t feel able to be unguarded with her. It reminded her of how they’d interacted when she was trying to hide her sexuality…and she hated it.

Jamie pressed the door latch and entered the house, waiting a second for Ryan’s greeting. When one didn’t float down the stairs, she assumed her partner had left early for practice. She laughed at her disappointment, finding it amusing that she’d grown so fond of such a small thing. After checking the mail that Ryan had laid out neatly on the table, she dropped her book bag and trudged upstairs, wishing for a nap but determined to study for an hour and then start dinner. She was still a little unsettled from her chat with her mother, but she didn’t have any idea of how to make things right between them again.

She was lost in thought when she reached the landing and she stopped abruptly when she looked into the bedroom, shocked to see Ryan flat on her back with her sweatpants and underwear bunched around her ankles. Her feet were planted on the bed and her legs spread wide apart. Her industrial-strength vibrator was pressed against her and her eyes were tightly closed. For a second, Jamie wasn’t sure what to do. She felt like a sneak, but she hadn’t been stealthy in her actions and she’d had no way of knowing Ryan was at home—much less masturbating. She considered slipping back down the stairs, but she didn’t want to disturb Ryan’s rapt concentration. So, she stayed where she was, but averted her eyes. She wasn’t sure why she did so, but it felt wrong to watch her partner do something that was in every way a deeply private act.

Luckily, she didn’t have to wait long. She heard Ryan’s breathing, then a few soft moans and an expulsion of air. Then the vibrator was turned off and thunked onto the bed.

Now Jamie had to make another decision. Did she try to sneak away or announce her presence? She guessed that Ryan would hear her, now that she was finished, so she cleared her throat and said, “Knock. Knock.”

Head snapping towards the door, Ryan stared at her with wide eyes. “Oops!” she said, giving what Jamie perceived as a guilty grin.

For some reason, her response triggered something in Jamie and she felt herself beginning to get angry. “Oops?” she asked, frowning. She went into the room and walked to her dresser to change clothes.

“Umm, no kiss?” Ryan asked. She quickly pulled up her pants and stood.

“You were busy.” She felt Ryan’s hands on her waist and mouth near her ear.

“Did it bother you to see me doing that?”

“Bother me?” Jamie turned and looked at her lover for a second. Unaccountably, she felt as if she didn’t know her, and she wondered who this woman really was. One thing she was sure of: she didn’t want to talk to her about this and she didn’t want to be near her. “No. But I wish you’d closed the door or gone into your own room.”

“Why?” Ryan’s head was cocked like Duffy’s and her open expression conveyed the same level of ingenuousness.

“Because that’s a private thing. I don’t want to watch you go to the bathroom or scratch your butt or pick your nose. Private things. Do them in private.” She turned and considered her dresser for a moment, then changed her mind about a new set of clothes. Scooting away from Ryan’s gentle grasp, she started for the door. “It’s no big deal. I just don’t want to feel like I’m sneaking up on you.”

Staring at her back, Ryan said, “I don’t feel like you’re sneaking up on me.” She followed Jamie from the room and added, “You love to watch me masturbate when we’re making love. What’s the difference?”

Jamie sighed heavily as she turned the corner and headed for the kitchen. “If you don’t see the difference, I can’t explain. It’s no big deal. Forget it.”

Clearly stunned, Ryan stood right where she was. After a minute she went into her room and got ready for practice, stopping by the bed to unplug the vibrator and put it away. Five minutes later she went into the kitchen. Jamie was sitting at the table, munching on a bowl of raw vegetables while she read a book entitled, “Financial Management of Residential Real Estate.”

Jamie looked up and gave Ryan a half smile. “I can’t make practice tonight. I’ve got a lot of reading to do. Mind if we get carryouts?”

“No.” Ryan sat down and looked at her lover. “What happened upstairs?”

Sighing dramatically, Jamie said, “Nothing. Give it a rest, will you? Every little incident doesn’t deserve dissection. I was surprised to see you doing that in plain view; I asked you to do it in private. That’s it.”

Ryan reached across the table and touched Jamie’s hand. Her voice was low and soft. “If I could understand why it bothered you, I’d have a better chance of not upsetting you next time.”

With a faux smile, Jamie said, “Go in your room and close the door and there won’t be a next time. It’s as simple as that.”

As quickly as a slamming door, Ryan’s guileless expression closed. She stood up and went to the refrigerator and took out a container of yogurt. Then she searched for and found a plastic spoon. As she walked out the door, she said, “Carryouts are fine,” then left the room. Seconds later Jamie heard the door close…hard. She winced, then slammed her hand against the table and uttered a curse.

Ryan got home a little later than usual. For once, she didn’t offer to stop for dinner on her way home from practice, so Jamie had ordered food from a local Thai place. Dinner was displayed on the kitchen counter—still in the takeout containers. Ryan took a look, let her gaze wander to Jamie, and said, “Are we going to eat together?”

“I’ve been picking at it since it got here. I timed the order so it’d be here when you usually get home.”

“So, that’s a no?” There was still not a hint of emotion in Ryan’s expression.

“I’m really swamped…”

Ryan nodded and took the plate that had been set out for her. She didn’t wash her hands, which were obviously dirty even from Jamie’s distance. She picked up one container at a time and turned it upside down, letting about half of the contents fall onto her plate. When her plate was piled high she turned and left the room, pointedly ignoring the utensils and the napkins.

Jamie’d been staring at her, trying to get her attention with a glare, but Ryan had ignored her completely. For a moment, she was tempted to jump up and follow her, but she really did have a load of work to do and she decided to let her anger fuel her concentration. She got up and took the remnants of the honey ginger duck back to the table and carefully speared a few pieces with her fork, chewing thoughtfully while trying to concentrate on her work.

Ryan didn’t make another appearance in the kitchen, and by ten o’clock Jamie had had her fill of real estate. She got up and packaged the leftovers for Ryan to snack on the next day, then washed her dinner dishes and turned off the lights. Heading upstairs, she noticed that their room was dark and she wondered if Ryan was already in bed. But when she turned on the light she saw that Ryan was in neither the bedroom nor the bath. The door to Ryan’s room was closed, giving Jamie one more small indication of her lover’s mood. She didn’t want to have another extended discussion over something so unimportant, so she knocked on the door and waited for Ryan to reply.

“Yeah?”

Jamie opened the door halfway. “I’m going to bed. Coming soon?”

Slowly, Ryan looked up. She was lying on her stomach on the bed, reading what looked like a magazine. “Probably.”

Her expression gave away nothing and Jamie felt her ire rising, but she tamped it down and nodded. “Okay. See you soon.”

As she turned she heard an icy voice say, “I still don’t merit a kiss?”

Grinding her teeth, Jamie paused to control her voice and reaction. Turning, she said, “Of course you do. I assumed you’d be coming to bed soon and I’d kiss you then.” She started to move towards Ryan but she was waved off dismissively.

“Fine. Go to bed. See ya.”

Barely managing to stop herself from shaking the stuffing from her partner, Jamie closed the door and mumbled obscenities while she brushed her teeth. By the time she got into bed she was still fuming, but she found that she was remarkably tired. Her mind flashed to all of the unsettled fights she and Jack had gone through and how she’d always fallen asleep quickly when she was particularly angry. She tried to assess why this happened, but she was sound asleep before she could give it any serious consideration.

The morning sun warmed her face and Jamie turned to snuggle up to Ryan, but the other side of the bed was cool to the touch. Blinking her eyes open, she was hit with a wave of anger mixed with dismay. God damn it! If she won’t sleep with me over something so minor, what’ll we do when we have a big fight? Every fucking thing has to be beaten to death!

Her feet hit the floor with a thud and she marched into Ryan’s room, ignoring her need to use the facilities. Ryan was right where she’d left her, but her magazine was on the floor, open to the article she’d been reading when she’d fallen asleep. Her hands dangled off the bed and they were dark with pooled blood.

Sighing, Jamie picked up the magazine, noting the title, Chaos, Solitons & Fractals. The article that Ryan had stopped on was Chaotic motion of magnetotactic bacteria, but neither title helped Jamie figure out what kind of magazine or journal it was. She recognized the word bacteria, which pointed to biology, but she was pretty sure that chaos and fractals were math things. And she knew this was leisure reading since Ryan had only one exam to prepare for. And no matter how much things had changed since she’d learned the language, she was sure this wasn’t assigned reading for French class. For no logical reason, the fact that Ryan read things like this for fun pissed Jamie off.

Ryan’s interests usually didn’t bother her, but today they seemed to widen the gulf she felt between them. She thought back to the previous afternoon and felt a small wave of panic when she considered how much she didn’t know or understand about Ryan, yet she’d pledged her life and her entire future to her.

Her heart was beating loudly in her chest when Ryan made a sound that was partly a cry and partly a whimper. “My hands,” she mumbled, turning onto her back. She stretched her arms up into the air and cursed under her breath.

Jamie sat on the edge of the bed and asked, “Do they hurt?”

“They’re asleep.” Ryan looked like she was sucking on a lemon. Her eyes were closed tightly and her mouth was twisted into a grimace. She shook her hands, which made her grimace worse. Jamie didn’t say anything, sitting quietly until Ryan’s expression returned to normal. “I must have had them hanging over the bed all night. They’re almost completely numb.”

Her first instinct was to try to comfort her partner in some way, but Jamie couldn’t make herself do it. She was still so torn between anger and confusion that she didn’t feel safe offering up any part of herself.

Ryan blinked a few times, then pushed her hair from her eyes. “What in the hell is going on between us?”

Jamie lifted and dropped her shoulders, partially avoiding Ryan’s eyes. “I dunno.”

“You’re obviously mad at me. Why won’t you tell me what’s pissing you off?”

Temper flaring once again, Jamie said, “I’m not pissed off! Or at least I wasn’t at first. I asked you to do something in private and you’re the one who got all huffy. I don’t like to beat things to death and you do.”

Ryan didn’t respond immediately. She shook her right arm again and then rested her head on her braced hand. The intensity of her gaze made Jamie feel like she was being x-rayed and she got up and went to the window. But that didn’t make Ryan talk. After feeling the blue eyes burn her back, she turned and snapped, “Will you stop staring and say something?”

Seemingly not flustered in the least, Ryan shook her head. “No.”

“Fine. I’ve got to use the bathroom.” Jamie strode from the room and closed the door. She was biting her lower lip to avoid cursing, but she relieved herself and then turned on the shower. She felt unaccountably lonely getting into the warm water when she knew Ryan was just a few feet away, but she was certain her partner wasn’t going to say another word until she explained why she’d been angry in the first place. And she did not want to discuss the whole matter. She just wanted to move on.

She lingered in the shower, hoping the warm water would soothe her emotions. But other than pruning her fingers, all she managed to do was waste water. She got out and dried her hair, then went into her room and got dressed. When she went downstairs, she found a note from Ryan on the kitchen counter.

I don’t understand what’s bugging you and I need to. I can’t ignore things like this, even though you want me to. Call me when you want to talk. I can’t ignore the tension when I’m at home and I need to study. If I don’t hear from you I’ll go home tonight.

R

Jamie ripped the note into strips, then crumpled them together and threw them in the trash. Emotional blackmail! We have to do it her way or she’ll run home to the people who really love her. She kicked a chair, then grabbed her foot and hopped up and down, growling from the pain. “Fuck!” she cried loudly enough to wake the neighbors.

Ryan was sitting on a wide expanse of concrete on the side of Koshland Bioscience Library, forcing herself to conjugate verbs when she caught sight of Jamie walking on one of the paths that crisscrossed the campus. Her gaze sharpened and her stomach flipped when she recalled seeing her partner look just like that so many times when things were going badly between her and Jack.

Ryan was angry, but she was much more puzzled than mad. She knew there was probably a very simple explanation for why Jamie had been upset with her, and she knew that the only reason her partner didn’t want to discuss it was because she was embarrassed about her feelings. Ryan knew she could guess and probably come up with the answer, but she didn’t want to do that. She wanted Jamie to be able to tell her when things bothered her, even if they didn’t make sense.

But seeing her partner’s head dip and her shoulders a little slumped made her heart hurt, and she suddenly didn’t care about the fight. She just wanted to make that lovely face smile. Leaving her books, Ryan jumped up and started to lope across the grass, making a beeline for her lover. When she reached her, she touched her lightly. “Hey. Are you in a hurry?”

A bit startled, Jamie stopped, forcing a dozen students to veer around her. She moved towards Ryan and looked into her eyes for a moment. “Are we speaking?”

“Yeah.” Ryan leaned her head in the direction of the library. “My stuff’s over there. Do you have time to sit with me?”

“Uh-huh. I’m finished for the day.”

Ryan’s eyes grew large and she looked at her watch. “Damn! No wonder my butt hurts! I’ve been sitting here since ten o’clock!”

Jamie smiled, shaking her head. “Five hours on concrete’ll do that to ya. Let’s sit on the grass.”

“Deal.” They went over to where Ryan’s books were and found a sunny bit of grass located far enough from the paths and the entryway to the library to let them talk in peace. Ryan took Jamie’s hand and said, “I’m sorry for being such a jerk. I heard what you asked me to do and I’ll do that. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.” Ryan wasn’t sure that this tactic would work, but she knew that if she opened up, Jamie would likely do the same. Ryan couldn’t help but smile as she watched, fascinated, as Jamie’s posture straightened, her head rose and her lips began to form a delighted grin.

“Really?”

“Yes.” Ryan nodded somberly. “Really. You asked me to do something and I should have just agreed.”

“That’s it?” Jamie asked once more, looking tentative.

“That’s it.” Ryan slapped her hands together, dismissing the argument.

It was clear that Jamie had her doubts. “We don’t have to discuss it?”

“No.”

“I don’t have to go over every possible thing that went through my mind when I saw you?”

“No.”

“You’re not gonna bring this up again when I let my guard down?”

That stung a little, but Ryan hid her reaction. “No. It’s over.”

“You’re really gonna let this drop.” This time it wasn’t a question, but Jamie’s voice held a good bit of trepidation.

Forcing herself to smile, Ryan said, “I was doing something you don’t want to see. You asked me to do it in private. I will. We’re done.”

Slowly, Jamie’s cautious smile began to droop. “So, you are going to do that again?”

Ryan was caught by surprise. This wasn’t where she thought things were headed. “Uhm, if the situation warrants it.”

Frowning, Jamie asked, “What situation?”

Ryan closed her eyes and scratched her head with both hands, mussing her hair severely. “I thought you didn’t wanna talk about it.”

“I don’t! Or I didn’t until you admitted that you’re gonna do that again.”

“I didn’t say that,” Ryan insisted, flummoxed. “I said I’d do it in private if the same situation came up.” Now her expression matched Jamie’s, and her voice became strident. “What business is it of yours, anyway?”

“I thought our sex life was both of our business!”

Ryan shook her head rapidly. “Our sex life? What does a quick orgasm have to do with our sex life?”

“Do I have to explain everything?” Blonde eyebrows were raised as high as they could go.

“Yeah, obviously you do. ’Cause I can’t figure out how my getting rid of cramps affects our sex life.”

Jamie leaned back on her hands. “What? What are you talking about?”

Ryan’s gaze sharpened and she stared at Jamie for a few seconds. “Do you want me to explain what happened?”

Staring back, Jamie said, “Yes, Ryan. I want you to explain what happened.”

“Fine. I just don’t wanna be accused of beating something to death.” The crack didn’t cause a reaction, so Ryan continued. “All right. I was getting ready for softball and started to feel crampy. I’d taken some pills just an hour earlier and I didn’t wanna take more, so I gave myself a quick orgasm. It really helps the pain if I come when I have cramps.”

“You weren’t…doing that rather than making love?”

“Hell, no!” Ryan stared at her, clearly puzzled. “I just wanted my uterus to stop contracting. Shit, I had like ten minutes until I had to leave. If I was gonna do myself rather than make love, I’d spend a little more time.”

“Oh, damn.” Jamie lay down on the ground. “I’m sorry. I just assumed…”

“Assumed what?”

Wincing, Jamie said, “I assumed you were doing that in lieu of making love.”

“Well, what if I was? Do I have to ask permission to touch my own clitoris?” Ryan was clearly steamed, and her voice was loud enough to travel to a few students walking by.

Jamie gave her a withering glare. “No. But we’ve just barely gotten back into a good rhythm. I’m hot for you like I’ve never been, and it hurt me to think you got more pleasure out of touching yourself than letting me touch you.”

“Damn it, Jamie! If you thought that, it really sucks that you not only wouldn’t tell me, you made me promise not to bring it up again! Why in the hell would you rather ignore something like that than find out a perfectly reasonable explanation?”

“I don’t know,” she growled. “I just get sick of talking about everything.”

“Fine,” Ryan said, starting to get to her knees. “I’ll start to act like Jack and ignore you whenever something emotional comes up.”

Jamie grabbed her waistband and yanked it, dumping Ryan onto her seat. “That’s not what I want and you know it. You’re just trying to hurt me now!”

Gathering herself, Ryan sat quietly for a minute, then lay on the grass. “You’re right. I’m sorry for snapping at you. It hurt my feelings when you said you’re sick of talking. That’s the thing that makes our relationship work.”

Jamie lay down next to her partner and took her hand. “You’re right. But sometimes it’s too…too. I feel like you’re looking into me with a microscope.”

“Sometimes I have to. You close up like a clam.”

“So do you. When I close up, you do the same thing. You follow me with those cold blue eyes and make me feel like you’ll never open up until I do it your way.”

Ryan sighed, then tucked her arm around Jamie and tugged her up against her side. She put her feet on the grass and Jamie put the fronts of her thighs up against the backs of Ryan’s thighs, just as though they were in bed. Chuckling softly, Ryan said, “It was just a year ago that you didn’t want me to kiss you when anyone might see us. Now we’re cuddling on the lawn.”

Laughing, Jamie reached up and planted a long kiss on Ryan’s lips. “A year ago people in Uzbekistan didn’t know we were lesbians. I’m not sure we’d get a second glance around here if I went down on you.”

“Wanna try?”

A warm, inviting grin lit Ryan’s face and Jamie had to kiss her again. Jamie slipped her hand down the front of Ryan’s khaki shorts, making big blue eyes bug out.

“Shit!”

Giggling demonically, Jamie pulled her hand out. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I do that, Tiger. But I could squeeze you in at home.”

Ryan hugged her tightly. “Know what I was thinking about when I had my quickie yesterday?”

“Do I wanna?”

Ryan pinched her. “Yes, you do. I was thinking about making love to you. I’m hornier than usual when I have my period and I’d been thinking about you all afternoon. I really wanted to make love. The orgasm I had was just a tiny snack.”

“But we couldn’t have had sex last night without pulling out the pile driver,” Jamie said, still a little miffed.

Giving her a puzzled look, Ryan asked, “Says who?”

“You have a hard time coming twice. Don’t act like that’s not true.”

“No,” Ryan explained patiently. “I have a hard time coming twice in an hour or two. But I can always have sex in the afternoon and again in the evening. And if I just use the vibrator for a minute or two, I’m even hungrier for sex. If I don’t have much foreplay I’m ready for seconds pretty soon. I would’ve been ready and willing last night.”

Jamie sat up and stared at her. “You would’ve been?”

“Yeah. I was just having a therapeutic orgasm. That doesn’t affect me like making love does. It’s like making myself sneeze or something. Just a vasodilator.”

“So I got pissed for nothing.”

“Nothing at all,” Ryan agreed.

“And you wanted to have sex last night.”

“I was dreaming about it all afternoon. The dream stopped when you came home, of course. Nobody feels sexy when she’s in trouble.”

“Arggggh!” Jamie slumped back into Ryan’s arms. “How do you put up with me?”

“It’s not easy. But your money makes it all worthwhile.” Ryan started laughing and after a short delay Jamie joined her; both of them laughing so hard that a few students finally noticed the pair of women lying on the grass—bodies intimately entwined.

They walked home together, holding hands and enjoying the warm, sunny afternoon. “Mind if we clear up one little thing?” Ryan asked.

Jamie looked up at her and gave her a sly grin. “I release you from your promise. You can express yourself.”

“Good. ’Cause I wanna talk about expressing myself. How do you really feel about my having myself if I’m in the mood?”

Her arm was around Ryan’s waist and Jamie let her hand drop to pat her butt. “I think it’s cute that you call it ‘having yourself.’ And…I guess…hmm…I’ve never given this much thought. I always assumed—”

Ryan saw the look on her face and jumped in. “I like making love a lot more than I like having myself, Jamers, but I don’t like having to ask your permission if I ever feel like doing myself. It’s one thing if I turn you down for sex ’cause I’m always doing it alone. But if I just feel sexy and I’m alone…I don’t wanna feel like I’ll get in trouble for scratching an itch.”

Jamie was nodding throughout Ryan’s comments. “I know, I know. Uhm…I guess that I kinda feel like I did yesterday. I don’t wanna know if you masturbate. It’s really a private thing and I don’t want to catch you doing it. Even if you don’t feel caught…like any woman properly embarrassed about her sex drive would, by the way.”

Ryan knew the teasing was genuine and she tucked her arm firmly around Jamie’s body. “I’m sorry I’m not more guilt-ridden. I’ll try harder.”

“I thought I could count on a good Catholic girl to agonize about masturbation.”

“Sorry. If I feel the need, I’ll make sure to do it in private, but I’m not gonna feel guilty about it. So if my door’s closed…don’t open it. I’m either working on something that I need to concentrate on…or working on myself. You can assume whichever you want.”

“I’ll assume you’re doing something with chaos. That is what you were reading last night, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. Something along those lines. Hey, does this mean you don’t wanna have phone sex again?”

“Oh, no! If we’re apart, phone sex is good. I like to think of you lying in bed having yourself while I talk dirty to you.”

“Huh. So it’s only when you’re in town that it bothers you.”

“Yeah. And that’s only because I don’t wanna miss an opportunity. I’m wild for you, honey. I don’t want you throwing away orgasms when they’re a precious resource for you.”

“Got it.” They walked along for a while, then Ryan said, “Was anything else bothering you yesterday? You seemed kinda…easily annoyed.”

“Nothing much. I guess I’m a little stressed about exams.”

“Yeah, that’s always a bitch. But you seem pretty prepared. You worked a lot harder this term than last.”

“I’m prepared,” Jamie admitted.

Ryan slowed down and gazed at her partner for a minute. “Something else is going on. I can see it in your pretty face.”

Jamie shook her head. “Nothing. Really. Well…maybe I’m a little down about my mom. We’re building the dam back up that we’d just managed to demolish. Pisses me off.”

“Giacomo?”

“Not really, but kinda. She called to ask how our trip went and I acted like a big baby and refused to tell her anything about it. I know I’m being a jerk, but I don’t like talking about my life if she won’t talk about hers. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Jamie shot her a look. “Do you understand, or not?”

“I do. I mean, I don’t share things with people who don’t share with me. Christ, look at all of the stuff I didn’t know about Ally. For me to risk something, I’ve gotta feel that the other person risks something. But your mom…your mom is only trying to keep one little part of her life private. It’s a lot like when you weren’t ready to talk to her about me.”

“Exactly!” Jamie said, looking triumphant. “And that really hurt her feelings because she was interested and ready to help if I needed it.”

“Right. But you weren’t ready, and that was the important part.”

“Nope. Not gonna fly.” Her lips were set and Ryan knew Jamie wasn’t in a receptive mood. “She was guessing, Ryan. She didn’t know what was going on. I know she’s been having sex with Giacomo. We’ve discussed it and she’s told me she feels like she’s accepting crumbs. It’s more like she doesn’t want me to remind her of that. She doesn’t want me to support her decision to break up with him. She wants to keep it going and act like it’s good enough for her.”

“That’s her decision, honey. Even if you don’t like it. Even if it isn’t great for her. Even if she could do a thousand times better.”

“How do I support her doing something that sucks?” Jamie asked, glaring at her partner. “What if she starts drinking all day long? Should I mix martinis for her?”

Ryan rolled her eyes. “There’s a difference between drinking too much and dating the wrong guy. She’s over forty, honey. She’s really old enough to choose her own companions.”

“Fine! Then she should have the courage of her convictions! If she’s proud to be with him, she should admit it!”

Ryan could see their discussion was getting nowhere, so she backed off and tried to put it to bed. “I predict this won’t last long. I can’t see your mom doing something she’s ashamed of. Once she makes up her own mind, she’ll talk about it or break up with him. I think she’s just on the fence right now.”

“I’d like to knock that Giacomo character off the fence with a mallet,” Jamie grumbled. “He’s so damned charming and oozing with compliments. I hate guys like that.”

“I know,” Ryan said. “He doesn’t seem particularly sincere.”

“Sincere? He seems like he’s auditioning for a part as a gigolo!”

“Your mom won’t be happy with a gigolo,” Ryan said, hoping that she was right.

On Wednesday morning, Ryan was lying on her bed, flipping flashcards over one by one. She was doing pretty well, but she had a rule that she couldn’t stop until she’d gotten fifty cards in a row correct. She’d amassed over five hundred cards over the year and she was more than ready to stop for the day, but the most she’d gotten in a row was forty-two. The phone ringing was a welcome respite.

“Hello?”

“Ryan?”

“Hi, Catherine. Boy, it’s nice to hear from you!”

“Goodness! I wish Jamie sounded as happy to hear from me as you do.”

“Jamie’s always happy to hear your voice. I’m just extra happy because I can take a break from doing my flashcards.”

“Flashcards?”

“Oh, haven’t you seen me toting my box of cards around with me? It’s how I pound some French into my thick head.”

“Oh, you poor dear. I’ve never had to learn a language as an adult.”

“Your mom got you started when you were young, too, huh?”

“Not as young as Jamie, but she wanted to take me to France when I was fairly young and she got me a tutor. I did very well and she decided I had a gift for language. Little did she know that children pick up language very easily. So, I studied Italian after I’d mastered French. Whenever I needed an easy class, I’d take French or Italian and breeze through. It certainly came in handy.”

“I’d pay good money to be able to take a nice differential equations class right about now,” Ryan said, laughing. “I could do that in my sleep!”

“We all have our strengths. I doubt that I could pass seventh grade algebra.”

“I’d tutor you. It’d be a snap.”

“My offer still holds to help you with French, Ryan. Any time.”

“Thanks. But I do better just cramming the words into my head. I don’t even try to delude myself into thinking I’m learning French. I’m just trying to learn enough to be able to pass a proficiency exam, so I don’t care about pronunciation or any of that stuff. I just want to know enough words to be able to make sense out of written passages.”

“Well, I’d hate to clutter up your mind with speech if you don’t need it,” Catherine said, chuckling softly.

“I try to keep my hard drive as clean as possible. I assume you called to talk to Jamie, but she’s at the library. Want me to have her call you?”

“To tell you the truth, I called to talk to you.”

“Cool! What’s up?”

“I’d like some advice, if you have any to spare.”

“I’m your woman, Catherine. I’ve got an opinion on everything, even if it’s based on nothing but a guess.”

“Oh, I’m sure you have an opinion on this, Ryan. It’s about Jamie.”

That caught Ryan up short. “You’re right. I always have an opinion about Jamie. What do you want to know?”

“I’d like to know how she’s feeling about our relationship. I can tell she’s uncomfortable with me, but I can’t tell if this is a passing phase or if it’s hurting us at a deeper level.”

“Umm…yeah…that’s a big one. I’m not sure what to say.”

“As much as I would like your input, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I know you have your secrets.”

“Well, sure we do. But I’m not sure if I know what’s going on. I can’t tell if she’s really angry with you, or if her feelings are just hurt. I kinda think she’s just hurt because you’re shutting her out a little bit.”

Catherine sighed heavily. “Parenthood can be tricky, Ryan. There should be better courses before you get involved.”

“I’m sure that’s true. Of course, being a child isn’t always easy, either. I’m still getting used to having Aunt Maeve be my stepmother, and she’s been in my life forever.”

“Good point. Good point,” Catherine said contemplatively. “Do you have any advice for me, honey?”

“I don’t know if I’m the best person to give advice about this. I’m sure not unbiased.”

“I’m not asking for an unbiased opinion, Ryan; my therapist can give me that. I want to know what I can do to make sure I don’t cause a rift with Jamie that will be difficult to heal.”

Ryan was quiet for a minute, thinking of what she could say that wouldn’t betray Jamie’s confidence. “I’d say that Jamie would be a lot happier if she felt you weren’t hiding something. I think she could handle not liking what you do if she didn’t feel you were embarrassed about it or felt that she wasn’t mature enough to hear what you had to say.”

“Uh-huh. So…you think that’s her perspective?”

“I’m not sure, honestly. It’s just a guess. But she always handles things better if she feels like she’s being treated as an equal.”

“Yes, that sounds like Jamie.” Letting out another long breath, Catherine said, “I’ve always had a hard time judging how to treat Jamie. I’m not able to guess how like a parent I should be. It seems like I’m either telling her too much or too little. It’s frustrating!”

“I’m sure it is. And if you were my mom, I’d rather not know about your private life. Jamie’s not like that. You two started getting close again when you started being more like friends and backing off from that…”

“I see what you mean. I do.”

“I’m not criticizing you, Catherine. I know you’re doing your best to be a good mother. And I don’t think kids should know everything about their parents’ lives. But Jamie doesn’t agree with me. I think she feels that you and she and Jim are all about on the same level.”

“At various times, she’s been the adult,” Catherine admitted. “I can hardly blame her for feeling like our equal.”

“Well, I think she’s the kid and you’re the mom, but I’m sure there’s some equilibrium you two can find. Someplace where you don’t tell everything and she doesn’t feel too shut out.”

“I’ll give it a try. I have to do something to break the ice.”

“Don’t worry too much, Catherine. Your relationship is very dear to her. She’ll meet you more than halfway if she doesn’t feel cut off.”

“Good. Very good. Thanks so much, Ryan. You’re a good sounding board.”

“Anything else you want to talk about? I’d love to stay on the phone for a few hours.”

“Get back to work,” Catherine said in a forceful tone that made Ryan giggle.

“You so can’t pull that off. Thank God you didn’t dream of being a Marine drill sergeant!”

PART TWO

ON WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON, Martin walked into the children’s house and called out, “Anyone home?” Getting no response from a human, he bent over and allowed Duffy to make over him with abandon. “How’s about a little walk for the boy?” he asked, smiling. Duffy’s tail wagged so fiercely that Martin was afraid he’d injure it. “Now, now, calm down a bit. I know you’re lonely, but we’ll take care of that.” He clipped the leash to Duffy’s collar and let the dog drag him to the door. “It’s a lovely day for an outing,” he said. “Let’s go visit all of your favorite spots.”

Duffy seemed to understand the enormity of the invitation. As they walked down the stairs, he whimpered and whined, then took off up the street, sniffing every bush and tree he encountered.

It was after 5:00 when Martin brought the still-excited dog home. He saw that Conor’s truck was on the street and announced to Duffy, “Himself is home. Maybe you can talk him into taking you for another walk or a little run.” Once again Duffy strained at the leash, intent on getting to Conor. They jogged up the stairs and burst into the house.

“Whoa!” Conor said, nearly knocked over by Duffy’s greeting. “Where’ve you two been?”

“I got home at around 3:00 and thought I’d wear the dog out,” Martin said. “I was unsuccessful.”

“I’ll take him for another walk. Might as well go now since I’m dirty.”

Martin scanned his son’s appearance. “Now that you mention it…”

“Dirty day. Spent most of the afternoon under a porch. When footings are rotten they always seem to be in a place you don’t wanna be. I’ll take Duffy out and then get clean.”

Martin picked up a box that rested on the dining room table. “New shoes?”

Conor’s eyes lit up. “Not just shoes,” he intoned dramatically. “John Lobb shoes.” Lifting the lid of the box, he leaned over and sniffed. “Don’t these smell great?”

Martin’s face scrunched up in a look that blended bewilderment and distaste. “They’re shoes, boy! They should smell like leather.”

“Calfskin,” Conor said. “I never thought I’d have shoes this nice. Catherine really knows my weak spot.”

Martin’s gaze sharpened. “Catherine? How is she involved?”

“Oh. She got me a few things so I can be a proper escort.”

“What do you mean she got you a few things? Do you mean she paid for these?”

“Well, yeah. I could never afford shoes like this.”

“What? Are you mad? You make a damn fine living for a young man. What are you doing with your money if you can’t afford a pair of shoes?”

Conor took a breath, trying not to snap at his father’s intrusiveness. “I can afford shoes, Da, but I can’t afford the kind of clothes that I have to wear to fit in with Catherine’s crowd.”

Martin picked up one of the shiny brown shoes and shook it at his son. “It’s a pair of shoes! No one looks at what a man has on his feet. The only time I notice shoes is when a man wears dirty, unpolished ones. You take a good pair of shoes and polish them properly and you can go to dinner at the White House.”

Clearly frustrated, Conor shook his head forcefully. “Da, this is different. These people care about the little things. It’d look bad for Catherine if I showed up for every event in my one pair of nice shoes.”

Blinking, Martin stared at his son for a minute. “If these people are so small minded that they’ll look down their noses at you, and you care about what they think, then you should buy your own. It might cost you a couple of hundred dollars—but that’s the price you have to pay.”

Conor tried to stop himself, but he laughed. Loudly. “Da, if they were a couple of hundred, I would have bought them. I’m not sure how much these were, but I’m sure they were more than I bring home in a week. Everything Catherine buys is the best there is.”

Blue eyes narrowed dangerously. “What else has Catherine bought for you?”

Stepping back a pace, Conor hedged, “N…nothing much. Just a couple of things.”

“Show me,” Martin said in a tone that Conor would never have considered refusing.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” Conor walked into his room and spent a few minutes gathering his bounty. He returned with a tuxedo, two suits, a blazer, two pairs of slacks, five shirts, seven ties and two pairs of shoes. His head was down, his longish hair falling to his forehead.

“You’ve taken all of this?” He plucked at a sleeve of one of the suits. “This wool is softer than a baby’s bottom!”

“That’s true, Da. All of this stuff is expensive. Very expensive. But Catherine really wants me to wear this kinda stuff.”

“And you didn’t complain too much, I’ll wager.”

“Hell, no, I didn’t complain. I love nice clothes!”

“Don’t go wishing for hell, lad. It comes to you if you deserve it.”

Conor slapped his hand on the table. “I’m not wishing for hell, Da. And I’m not gonna apologize for liking nice clothes. I didn’t ask for this stuff; Catherine insisted. And don’t forget that I’m helping her out by going to these things. I sure wouldn’t choose to go to a benefit for some goofy museum with people older than dirt, but she doesn’t like to go alone.”

Martin stared at his son, his gaze so intent it looked as if he was trying to see inside his mind. “I know you’re a good man, but this is beyond your usual level of generosity. You’ve never been the type to give up your free time to do something you didn’t enjoy. What’s in this for you?”

Conor looked like he’d been shocked with a live wire. “Me?”

“Yes, you. Are you doing this for the clothes?”

“No! I…like being with Catherine. She’s a lot of fun.”

“How many of these events have you been to?”

“Uhm…I don’t know…maybe ten?”

“It’s only been a few weeks! How many events does she go to?”

“A lot,” Conor said. “Museums, the opera, the symphony, things at Stanford, art galleries. She’s really busy.”

Martin looked more than skeptical. “And how does she introduce you?”

“She just tells people my name. Why?”

“I’m wondering what’s in this for her,” Martin said, his mouth quirked into a scowl. “Does she want people to think you’re dating each other?”

“I could do a lot worse!”

“What’s that supposed to mean? She’s your sister’s mother-in-law!”

“I know who she is,” Conor snapped. “And I’d be lucky to have a woman half as nice and funny and pretty as Catherine is. I have more fun with her than I’ve had in a long time with the women I usually date. She’s a great dancer and she has a wicked sense of humor. She’s like Jamie, but sexier.”

Martin shoved his son with the heel of his hand. Conor took a step backward and put up his hand to ward off another push. “Don’t you dare say that about Catherine!” Martin fumed. “She’s a member of our family, not the usual flah you drag home.”

Insulted on many levels, Conor stared at his father for a moment. “I don’t think of Catherine as an easy lay! How could you even think that! She’s a great woman, and I’m gonna hang out with her as often as she wants. And if she wants to buy me clothes…she can.” His strong chin stuck out at a defiant angle even as he braced himself for the likely physical response.

Grabbing the back of a dining chair, Martin took several deep breaths and calmed himself. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and even and his gaze didn’t move from the table. “You’re asking for trouble, son. What you’re doing is dangerous…for you and her. It’s one thing to go with her to things so she’s not alone. It’s another to go with her because you like her better than your…usual girls.” He lifted his eyes and looked at Conor. “Don’t start something that will lead you into trouble.”

Conor’s voice rose again. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“You don’t think of a family member as sexy,” Martin said, the word sounding like a curse. “When you feel that way, you back off until you come to your senses. You don’t ask for temptation.”

“What’s the big deal? We’re not related!”

“She’s your sister’s mother-in-law!”

“And Maeve is my aunt! That didn’t stop you!”

Martin grasped the chair in front of him and slammed it down so hard that the splintering of wood cracked through the quiet house. He turned and walked out without another word to his stunned son.

Jamie’d been home for a few hours, forcing herself to study some of her drier material. She liked to get the worst of it out of the way as early in the day as possible so that she could read the more interesting things when she was tired. But no matter how good her resolve, her mind wandered constantly when she was reading about various economic theories. She knew she’d never develop a real love for economics, but she’d thought she’d like it more than she did. It was a real chore for her to focus on something she didn’t click with. It had crossed her mind more than once that she’d made a mistake in making business her minor. She desperately missed reading novels and discussing them with a group of people who enjoyed reading for subtext as much as she did, but it had been months since she’d been able to read for pleasure, and she’d finished all of the courses in her major.

She got up and found a couple of colored exercise bands in Ryan’s room and spent a while stretching her muscles. It wasn’t easy with one arm straight out, but she’d gotten fairly adept at using her injured arm. Her doctor had urged her to use it as much as possible, and since it didn’t hurt much she was following his instructions.

Her mind wandered to Ryan, and the first time Ryan had trained her at the gym. It astounded her to think that had been a mere year and a half earlier. It seemed like Ryan had been part of her life forever. So much so that she had to force herself to concentrate to recall even a glimmer of how she’d felt when she was engaged to Jack.

But it was easy—very easy to recall that first day with Ryan. Feeling her warm, sure hands on her body, smelling her scent when she leaned close to help with an exercise, feeling the heat of her body when they brushed against each other. She recalled tingling with sensation through the entire hour, then trying to figure out why she was so energized and longing for touch when they were finished.

She laughed ruefully, remembering how often she surprised Jack with uncharacteristically keen sexual interest after she’d been working out with Ryan. Even though he didn’t care for her developing muscles, he clearly wasn’t going to ask her to stop working out when she was more amenable to sex after she’d been at the gym.

Lying down, Jamie held the band as well as she could with her broken arm and stretched for a few minutes. She wasn’t trying to work up a sweat—just make her muscles move enough to get the blood flowing…hopefully to her brain.

When she was finished, she went downstairs and made herself a smoothie with bananas, strawberries, and some non-fat yogurt. She sat in the living room to drink it while making one more attempt at her econ work. Her mind continued to wander, so she stood and paced while reading. That helped a little, but she was still not fully present. So she started to read the text aloud, finding that helped quite a bit.

She was walking around the room, textbook cradled in her right arm while she proclaimed the boring sentences in Ciceronian declamations. The technique worked amazingly well, and she finally dropped the book onto the table, satisfied that she’d given it her best effort. She was standing by the door when she heard Ryan’s key in the lock. Her face morphed into a delighted grin and she turned the lock before Ryan could withdraw her key. “Hi!”

Ryan cocked her head a little at the enthusiastic greeting. “Uhm, hi. Do you often stand by the door waiting for me to show up at unexpected times?”

“Nope. I was just putting my book down.” Ryan was still standing on the porch, but Jamie didn’t let that stop her. She went to her and wrapped her good arm around her neck, giving her a long kiss filled with lascivious intent.

Ryan swayed a little when Jamie released her, her eyes half-closed. “What a nice welcome. Can I come in now?”

“Wish you would.”

Ryan took two steps, not enough to let her close the door, then blinked when Jamie started to unbutton her shirt. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Undressing you,” Jamie said, her eyes narrowed in concentration as one hand fumbled with the buttons.

“I usually close the door before I change for softball. As a matter of fact, I almost always go upstairs.”

“Not today.” Jamie said, smiling in satisfaction when she finished with the shirt. “Take it off. And your bra. That’s too hard for me.”

“Honey, I’ve gotta change,” Ryan said gently. “Softball practice starts in thirty minutes.”

Jamie grabbed her neck and pulled her down again, nearly burning her lips with a long, hot, desire-filled kiss. “What happens if you’re late?” she whispered, breathing heavily.

“Uhm…” Ryan’s brow furrowed. “Nothing. Lots of people are late because of different classes and stuff. I’m usually one of the first ones there.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow, then twitched her head in the direction of Ryan’s open shirt. “Take it off.”

Ryan shrugged agreeably, but closed the door first. She grinned while she removed her shirt and bra, then stretched and shook her shoulders as she often did when she freed her breasts from their confinement. Jamie watched with rapt interest, then commanded, “Do that again. Slower.”

Ryan started to move, pushing her lover back towards the sofa, shaking her shoulders slowly and deliberately. Her breasts swayed gently, her eyes fixed on Jamie’s while she let her more dominant personality emerge. By the time they reached the sofa, the predator that lurked under Ryan’s placid exterior was in place and ready to rock. She grasped Jamie’s face with both of her hands, holding her still while she gazed into her eyes for a long moment, then she let her eyes drop a few inches, focusing on Jamie’s open, moist lips. A ravenous smile lit her face and she moved in, capturing those lips while she held her head so tightly that Jamie couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to.

Ryan purred softly, kissing her partner with firm, unyielding determination. Still holding Jamie’s face, she bent her knees, leaning in to force her lover to sit. Ryan straddled Jamie, letting all of her weight rest on her lap while her hands continued to hold her head and her lips continued to kiss her with total possession.

Moaning in response, Jamie stroked the backs of Ryan’s hands, silently encouraging her to take and keep control. But Ryan didn’t need encouragement. Even though this wasn’t the way they usually interacted, like a well-worn pair of jeans, Ryan slipped into the role without a thought, her comfort obvious.

She took Jamie’s hands and placed them on her own breasts, squeezing Jamie’s hands firmly to guide her. Immediately, Jamie followed instructions, letting Ryan’s kisses warm her from the outside in while she teased her breasts until she started to lose track of where they were. She shook her head, a little confused when she felt herself being pushed onto her side then her back as Ryan grasped her slacks and pulled her into position. Their mouths were still locked together, Ryan’s sultry kisses never stopping.

The coffee table made a scruffing noise as it was pushed across the rug on which it rested. Ryan knelt, her fingers deliberately undoing the buttons on Jamie’s shirt. Then one hand caressed a breast, palming and gripping it tenderly while the other slipped down Jamie’s belly to undo her slacks.

Ryan’s breathing was a little ragged while she wrestled with the material, pulling at them with one hand while Jamie shifted and lifted her hips to aid in the quest. The slacks were thrown over Ryan’s shoulder, then she slipped her hand into Jamie’s panties, her mouth forming a slow smile when her delving fingers touched warm, wet flesh.

Jamie gasped, yanking away from Ryan’s mouth to suck in a breath, but Ryan obviously didn’t want to give up control. She slipped her hand through Jamie’s hair, forcefully guiding her back to the kiss. Sighing, Jamie submitted, pushing her mouth against her lover’s while she thrust her hips against Ryan’s fingers.

Ryan’s hand curled into a fist and she pressed it against her partner, pushing Jamie’s entire body with each thrust. Her mouth still covered, her hair pulled just to the point of pain, Jamie didn’t have the freedom or the ability to say a word. Ryan controlled everything she felt, everything she wanted, everything she needed.

One more dip into the wetness made Jamie shudder. Slipping her hand out of Jamie’s panties, Ryan once again held Jamie’s face in her hands, bestowing a flurry of heated kisses onto her voracious mouth. Just when Jamie decided she didn’t need another thing in life, Ryan pulled away and snaked her hands down Jamie’s body until they touched her panties, then removed them without a pause in the course of her long caress. The touch had been so soft and gentle that Jamie blinked in surprise when her body was roughly pulled and lifted until her legs dangled across Ryan’s shoulders. Before she could react, Ryan was kissing Jamie’s vulva with the same intensity she’d shown her mouth.

Jamie had to concentrate with all of her power to resist her impulse to squirm out of Ryan’s firm grasp. Submitting this completely was not easy for her, but it was so deliciously freeing. She grasped for something—anything to anchor her body to the sofa to guarantee that Ryan never, ever stopped what she was doing.

Her ass was half a foot off the sofa, Ryan’s warm hands grasping her cheeks and playing with them roughly while she kissed and nuzzled against Jamie’s fiery need. Jamie’s skin felt hot and tingled with sensation as Ryan squeezed and pinched her while licking her so tenderly that her brain had a hard time keeping the sensations separate. At times it felt like Ryan was pinching her clit and caressing her ass, but Jamie was sure just the opposite was actually happening. She finally stopped trying to think and let herself just feel—feel whatever happened, without analysis.

Turning off her conscious mind let all the sensations gather into a ball of pure energy radiating between her legs, a hot, pulsing life form that exploded in a burst of pleasure so intense that Jamie sensed a small tear in the fabric of her consciousness. She had no idea how she had come to be lying across the sofa again with Ryan kissing her and stroking her face so tenderly. Her eyes opened and she had trouble focusing for a moment, but then the contours of Ryan’s lovely face sharpened and she could see the beatific smile on her lips.

“Hi,” Ryan said softly. “You okay?”

“I have no idea.” Jamie reached up to make sure the top of her head was still attached, then noticed how hot and flushed her face was.

“You’ve gotta breathe, baby,” Ryan whispered. “You’ll black out if you don’t breathe.”

“I think I did. Black out.”

Clearly concerned, Ryan’s smile disappeared. “You did?”

“Maybe,” Jamie said, patting her absently. “I felt like I had this…supernova between my legs and then it exploded. Next thing I knew, you were kissing me and I was lying down again.”

Ryan put her fingers against the pulse in Jamie’s throat, frowning a little. “Your heart’s really racing.”

“Isn’t it supposed to?” Jamie asked, smiling lazily.

Ryan looked into her eyes and nodded. “You look okay, but I want you to lie still for a few minutes, okay?”

“Can’t do it.” Jamie put her arms around Ryan and pulled her down for a hungry kiss. “I’ve gotta see a woman about an orgasm.”

Ryan drew back and patted Jamie’s cheek. “No can do. I hate to come and run and that’s what I’d have to do.”

Grinning, Jamie said, “I meant me. I kinda missed the last one. I need a few more.” She took Ryan’s hand and snuggled it between her legs. “Come on, it’ll just take a few minutes.”

“Unh-uh.” Ryan gave her a sexily defiant smile. “Gotta keep you hungry. You stay here and think sexy thoughts until I come home, ’cause you’ve got two or three minutes of work cut out for you when I get here.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Wish I were.” Ryan stood and stretched to get the kinks out of her back and legs. “But I can’t relax and enjoy myself when I know I’m gonna be late. And I have to make sure you’re unsatisfied. Purely selfish motives,” she admitted happily.

Jamie dramatically draped an arm across her forehead. “You’re the spawn of the devil!”

“Can’t help it.” Ryan shrugged and took off for the stairs.

A few minutes later Jamie heard the shower running and she grinned impishly, knowing that her charms hadn’t been lost on her partner since she needed to shower before going to get dirty.

Too enervated to get up, Jamie lay on the sofa for quite a while after Ryan left, idly thinking of what she wanted to do to her partner the second she came in the door. She was still very turned on, but she didn’t give in to the fleeting desire to touch herself. It was more fun to simmer—something Ryan had never been able to understand.

Finally, she got to her feet, collected her discarded clothing and went upstairs to shower. She knew that Ryan wouldn’t care one way or the other, but she had a thing about being clean when they made love. Every once in a while she’d shower in the middle of an extended lovemaking session—much to Ryan’s bemusement. She chalked it up to one more instance of Ryan’s liking nearly every earthy, natural sensation and aroma, while she thought just about everything smelled and tasted better after a good scrubbing. She did have to admit that she loved to smell Ryan when she had worked up a good sweat, but it had to be fresh, and it helped if she was turned on at the time.

She was smiling at her own little idiosyncrasies when she reached her room. Going into the bath, something caught her eye in the mirror on her dresser. She turned around and craned her neck to see her butt, finding a clear impression of Ryan’s hand imprinted there. Stunned, she thought carefully about the preceding half hour and could not recall one slap. My God, I was so out of my head, I didn’t feel her swat me hard enough to leave a handprint! Good thing, or I would have swatted her right back! Getting into a slap fight would probably have ruined the mood!

Ryan bounded up the stairs a couple of hours later, playfully removing her clothes before she was all the way in the front door. “Almost ready,” she said, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth while she hopped on one foot to get her shoe and sock off.

“Do you want your spanking now or later?” Jamie asked dryly, trying to look stern.

Ryan stopped, one foot held in both hands, wobbling a little bit. “Huh? What did I do?”

Standing up, Jamie turned and pulled her robe aside, then lowered her panties. She bent over and pointed to the still-visible handprint. “You slapped me!”

Dropping her foot, Ryan’s expression grew skeptical and she walked over to her partner. Caressing the soft, slightly warm flesh, she said, “I only do as I’m told, ma’am.”

Jamie quickly dropped her robe and stood up straight, staring at Ryan. “What?”

Ryan bent over and pulled her lover’s panties up, settling them just so on her hips, smiling a little bit while she worked. Still not looking at Jamie, she said, “You asked for it, you got it. You’ve gotta learn to control that cute little mouth.”

“You’re kidding.” It wasn’t a question.

Ryan finally made eye contact. “No, I’m not. You were squirming around like a trout on a hook. I felt like my ears were being boxed.” She smiled but Jamie didn’t join her. “Uhm…” she went on, a little more tentatively. “You kept begging for me to do it harder, but I wasn’t sure if you meant that you wanted me to lick you harder or play with your butt harder, so I used the scientific method and tested each alternative.”

“So you just slapped me?”

“No, of course not. I started playing a little harder, and you kept begging for more. I tapped you a couple of times and you yelled something like, ‘Make it hurt!’ so I did. I gave you a wallop and you came as soon as I did.” She shrugged, smiling hesitantly. “We were having sex. You don’t always think about what you want; you just want it.”

Jamie flopped down on the sofa. “I wanted you to hurt me.” Her tone was flat and she sounded disappointed with herself.

Ryan sat next to her, not touching. “That’s not really the best way to look at it. Your limbic brain gets involved and all bets are kinda off.”

Giving Ryan a fairly annoyed look, Jamie said, “I know that word but I don’t know what it is, other than a part of the brain.”

“Oh. Right. Uhm … well, if we’re talking about the triune brain …” She paused when she was met with a blank stare. “Okay.” As she always did when she talked about something that truly interested her, she started to use her hands. She made an ovoid shape and said, “There are three main parts of your brain: the reptilian, the limbic and the neocortex. The reptilian brain is down here.” She used her finger to draw on Jamie’s head, outlining a portion of her lower skull and neck. “That’s the part that keeps you breathing and doing all of the other involuntary stuff. The next part is the limbic brain; that’s what we share with other mammals. That’s the part that makes you want things that you can’t explain, or even like, when your neocortex gets involved.”

Jamie sighed loudly. “I know this stuff is second nature to you, but it doesn’t help me much. I just want to know why I asked you to do something I can’t remember and don’t particularly like. A nice, simple, non-scientific explanation would be ideal.”

Gesturing with her hands again, Ryan said, “Give me one more minute. It’ll help you if you get the differences in the parts of your brain. Really.” When Jamie didn’t respond, she continued. “Your limbic brain controls most of your emotions and your needs and your desires. When you’re turned on and reacting, rather than acting, your neocortex plays a much smaller role. And that’s the part that…for lack of a better word...thinks. That’s the part that gives us consciousness, and speech, and abstract thought. When you’re really turned on, you’re feeling much more than thinking. And sometimes you want a feeling or a sensation that you wouldn’t want if you were filling out a survey.” She put her hand on Jamie’s thigh. “Remember a week or so ago when I wanted to have an orgasm right after I’d had one? I had to use the big vibrator to come.”

“Yeah.” A small smile started to bloom. “I remember.”

“My limbic brain was demanding an orgasm, but my neocortex was involved too. That’s why I was able to think about how I’d feel and know it wasn’t wise. But that damned limbic brain wanted to come. It’s the same part of the brain that wants drugs even though the neocortex knows they’re not a good idea. Your limbic brain felt the sensations and liked the way I was playing with your ass. It wanted more. That’s nothing to be upset about. We’re all animals.”

Jamie was frowning, and blithely tossed out, “You’re more animal than I am.”

“Thanks.” Ryan pulled away and put her hand in her own lap.

Wincing, Jamie reached out and took her lover’s hand. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way. You’re just more comfortable accepting your body and your desires than I am. I like to be more in control. I don’t like asking for you to hit me and then not even recalling it! What if I’d asked you to poke me in the eye!”

“Well, since I wasn’t as turned on as you were, I might have said no.”

Jamie shot her a quick look and saw the deadpan expression on Ryan’s face. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. I’m your lover, not your out-call. You can’t trust a trick to take care of you, but you can trust me. I’d never do anything to hurt you, and if you don’t know that, we’ve got a big problem.”

“I do, I do. I’m just…I hate to be out of control. Can’t you understand that?”

“I understand the words,” Ryan said, “but I love to be out of control. I’ve dedicated my life to turning off my neocortex as much as possible. Maybe you’re further along evolutionarily than I am, but I like to turn off my thoughts and feel as much as I possibly can. I love it when we get wild and my nipples are sore the next day.” Her voice grew lower and quieter and she slipped her arm around Jamie’s shoulders. “I like the way my clit throbs when you’ve sucked on it too hard or too long. And I love the ache I get in my cunt when I beg you to put just one more finger inside me.” She dipped her head and nibbled a clean, pink earlobe. “Sensation is such a turn on for me—the way you smell and taste and feel when I’m touching you. My mind is turned off and I’m just wallowing in sensation. I…can’t…get…enough.”

Jamie turned and smiled at her, then brought her hand up and caressed Ryan’s neck before pulling her forward. They kissed softly, just brushing their lips together. Jamie pressed a little harder and kissed her roughly, smiling when Ryan gasped. Pulling away, Jamie took a sniff around her lover’s mouth. “You smell like hot dogs.”

“I grabbed a couple of dogs on my way home. I hoped we wouldn’t have time to eat.”

“Come on.” Jamie took her by the hand and led her upstairs. “Let’s take a shower together.”

“You look pretty clean to me.”

“Not for long, if I’m lucky.”

“Oh, you’re lucky, all right,” Ryan said. “You’re gonna be so, so lucky.”

Rory entered the house at around eight o’clock that evening and was surprised to hear the mournful sounds of Conor’s mandolin coming from his bedroom. He was used to hearing his brother play, but it was odd for Conor to play in the middle of the evening, and even odder for him to play such sad music. Deciding not to intrude, Rory went into the kitchen to scrounge up some dinner for himself. He was pleased to find some meatloaf, probably leftovers from the firehouse.

He sat at the dining room table and ate, reading the paper while he did so. When he finished, he realized that Conor was still playing and that the mood of the pieces he was choosing was just as gloomy as it had been earlier. Sighing, he went into the kitchen and tidied up, then knocked on the door to Conor’s room.

Conor was sitting on his bed, playing his mandolin with his eyes closed. Rory assumed his brother would stop when he entered, but since that didn’t happen he had to make a decision about whether to stay or leave. Conor looked so down, Rory felt he’d better stay and ask what was up.

At the end of the piece, Conor let the instrument slide down his chest. “What?” he asked, looking at his brother with an annoyed glare.

Rory immediately regretted his decision to intrude. Conor was usually good-humored, but when he was in one of his black moods it was impossible to communicate with him. Still, he had to give it a try. “Wanna talk about what’s bugging you?”

“No.”

The answer surprised Rory. Conor would usually not acknowledge that he was upset or angry, and the fact that he had gave Rory pause. “You sure? When I’m pissed-off, it helps me to complain to somebody else.”

Conor pursed his lips so hard they whitened at the corners of his mouth. To Rory’s amazement, he looked as though he might cry. “Every once in a while,” he said, spitting the words out, “I wish Da had been the one to go early. Everything would have been better—for all of us—if Mam was still here.”

Rory was too shocked to respond immediately, so he nodded slowly, taking a few moments to think of a way to answer. “You’re probably right,” he finally said. “Everything would have played out differently if Momma was here. But she woulda had a helluva time supporting us all. It woulda been tough, having her wait tables or something. She didn’t have any job skills.”

“She was the best mother in the world,” Conor said, his voice tight and a little high.

Rory wanted nothing more than to run upstairs. He’d only seen his older brother cry once or twice, and it wasn’t something he ever wanted to see again. “She was,” he said, trying not to tip Conor over the edge. “But you don’t get paid for mothering. It would have been hard on us not to have a father. It just sucks to lose a parent, I guess.”

“She wasn’t a judgmental prick,” Conor sneered. “She didn’t have her nose in your business all the time. And she wasn’t the queen of morals and ethics and all of that other shit.”

Rory began to feel like he was on solid ground again. Conor’s anger at their father was a subject he could understand and empathize with. “What’d he do?”

Conor was holding his mandolin by the neck and he slapped it forcefully against the bed, making Rory wince. He knew his brother could snap a sturdier piece of wood in half without much effort, and he knew Conor’d be furious with himself if he broke his mandolin. He got up and slid the instrument away from Conor while his brother began his rant in earnest. “He came over here and started ragging on me for letting Catherine buy me clothes and shoes.”

“She…buys you stuff?” Rory asked, dumbfounded.

“Yes,” Conor snapped. “Don’t you start with me or I’ll bloody your nose.”

Rory placed the mandolin on the desk and held up his hands. “Hey, I don’t care if she buys you a car. That’d be like me buying you a beer.” He smiled, trying to make light of the situation. “I just didn’t know.”

Clearly frustrated, Conor slid down the bed and rolled onto his stomach. He placed his hands under his chin and stared at the wall for a few seconds. “It started out with me doing her a favor,” he said quietly. “She hangs out with people who go to France for the weekend when they hear about a new restaurant opening.” He looked at Rory, his expression plaintive. “Know what I mean?”

“I don’t know people like that, but I know they’re different than us.”

“Really, really different,” Conor said. “Going to things with her has made me see how different they are. And one thing I know is that it doesn’t matter who you are, it’s all about how you look and how you act.”

“Really? I would have thought that you had to be one of them to matter.”

Conor made a face. “Well, you probably do, but Catherine kinda wanted me to tag along so the other women didn’t think she couldn’t get a date.”

“Oh,” Rory said, the situation becoming clear. “You fit in because the women think you’re Catherine’s young stud. I bet no guys talk to you, do they?”

“No,” Conor admitted. “I was supposed to look like I belonged by having the right clothes and looking good. But since we’ve been doing this, I’ve been having a really good time. The events suck, but Catherine’s a load of fun.”

“You didn’t tell Da that, did you?”

Conor nodded and flinched. “I said she was sexy.”

“Oh, fuck,” Rory groaned. He bent over, making a face. “You didn’t!”

“Yeah, I did.” Conor started to laugh and Rory joined him, both men releasing a load of tension. “He almost shoved me through the wall.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t knock your teeth out!”

“The old man’s not as old as he seems,” Conor admitted. “He broke the legs on one of the dining room chairs just by slamming it down.”

“Shit!” Rory’s green eyes were wide. “Good thing he didn’t hit you, Con. You can’t hit him back!”

“Don’t I know it! Thank God he used the chair, or my legs would be snapped in half. He took off after he broke the chair, but it’s not over.”

Rory shook his head solemnly. “It never is.”

“I guess I’ve gotta apologize and say I didn’t mean it, but I do!” He looked at his brother, his expression defiant.

“Hey, that’s your business. Catherine is sexy, and Da knows it. Maybe he’s thought the same thing and got mad because you said it.”

“Eh…he got mad because he said I couldn’t think that about a family member. Then I reminded him that Maeve was a family member, and that hadn’t stopped him from going after her.”

“You didn’t!” Rory’s eyes almost popped from his skull.

“I sure did. I woulda walked on hot coals to get those words back, but they were long gone.”

“You’re in deep, deep, deep,” Rory said, stating the obvious. “You can say what you want about Da, but you’re looking for trouble when you talk about Aunt Maeve.”

“I wasn’t!” Conor insisted. “I was talking about him! But he didn’t see it that way.”

“You’d better get over there tonight. You know he gets madder as time goes on.”

“I know,” Conor said glumly, “but I’m pissed off! He has no right to tell me I’m not allowed to take clothes from Catherine, and he can’t supervise my thoughts.”

“No, but he’s gonna try. You just have to nod and act like he’s right. Haven’t you learned that by now?”

“I can’t get along with everybody like you do. You lucked out and got Mam’s disposition.”

“Well, no matter what, you’d better go make it right with him. And, Conor, I know you didn’t ask for advice, but don’t try to get close to Catherine. No matter how cool she is, it won’t be worth it.”

“Says you,” Conor grumbled.

“Okay, then, how about this? If you want to take the risk, don’t tell anyone until you’re ready to get married. And I do mean no one! That’s the only way Da got away with it. If he’d told us the first time he was gonna ask Aunt Maeve out, we would have pummeled him!”

Later that night, Ryan was lying on her back, her legs spread wide, one knee bent. Jamie’s head rested on her thigh and she was gently stroking the tender skin at the apex of her leg. “Do you like the word cunt?”

“Huh?” Ryan’s voice was raspy and her throat was obviously dry.

“You used the word cunt earlier today. I can’t remember your using it before.”

“Umm, I don’t know if I have or not. I kinda got in the habit of using the proper terms for things.”

“When did you get in the habit?”

“I guess last year, when we used to talk about sex. I didn’t know you that well and I tend to use clinical terms when I’m talking about sex in the abstract.”

Jamie used her finger to trace all around Ryan’s vulva, asking idly, “What do you normally do?”

“When I’m having sex?”

“Yeah.”

“Depends on the person and the setting. When I think back, I guess I tended to let the other woman set the tone.”

“How come?” Jamie was intently grooming her partner, gathering a few damp hairs and curling them together.

“What are you doing?” Ryan lifted her head to try to see.

“Playing. Do you mind?”

“Nah. Just stay away from my clit.” She paused a second. “I say clit, don’t I?”

“Yeah. We both do. But we use the medical terms for everything else.”

“Clit is kind of a medical term too,” Ryan said. “I’m just usually in too much of a hurry to get ‘clitoris’ out.”

Jamie laughed. “That’s the truth. I’m surprised you have enough time to say ‘clit.’ You’re still my Quick-draw.”

“I told you not to let that get around,” Ryan said, laughing softly. She raised her head again. “Do I need a trim?”

“What?”

“You’re being very intent down there. I thought I might need a trim.”

Blinking, Jamie said, “You trim? Down here?”

Looking rather indignant, Ryan said, “Of course I do.”

“Have you always?”

Giving her a goofy grin, Ryan said, “Not until I started having sex.”

“Really?” Now Jamie’s attention was even more intent. “I can’t tell,” she said as she trailed her finger carefully along the hair line.

“I’m not real furry. I just take a little off the top.”

Jamie looked up and met her eyes. “So, it’s just length?”

“Yeah. I took it down pretty low when we were first together. I thought the whole concept would be easier for you if you could see everything pretty clearly.”

Putting her head down, Jamie tenderly kissed the smooth skin at the apex of Ryan’s thigh. “You’re so thoughtful. It charms the heck out of me to hear how much planning you put into our being together.”

Reaching down, Ryan ruffled Jamie’s hair. “You were worth every moment. Giving myself a trim, stopping myself from using my normal vile and vulgar vocabulary…”

“You’re silly,” Jamie said, giving her a little pinch. “So, what words do you like?”

“Just about anything. If I was with someone who was really raunchy I could go there. Some things sound better to my ear, but nothing really offends me. Surprise,” she added, chuckling.

“I kinda like cunt,” Jamie said, “but only for sexy talk. Like today when you used it, it was hot. Made me tingle.”

“Cool. Any terms you don’t like?”

“You know me,” she said, pulling on a few hairs until Ryan slapped her hand away. “Dozens of ’em. But you’ve never used a term I dislike.” She scooted up until they were on the same plane.

Ryan rolled over and kissed her. “Pussy?”

Looking slightly ill at ease, Jamie said, “I’d have to be pretty worked up to use that, but you could use it and it wouldn’t bother me.”

“Twat?”

Making a face, Jamie said, “Not good. I couldn’t get turned on enough to think that was sexy.”

“I was teasing. I don’t like that one either. I don’t know why, but it sounds vulgar.”

“Yeah, to me too. Do you know any Irish words?”

Ryan reached down and cupped her hand under Jamie’s breast. “Diddies.”

“That’s cute.”

Moving her hand down, she patted Jamie’s vulva. “Box.”

“Eh, nothing good about that. And it doesn’t sound Irish. I hear that here.”

“If we were kissing and I snuck my hand inside your pants that’s ‘dropping the hand.’”

“Cute enough, but inapplicable. You can drop your hand anywhere you want.”

Ryan kissed her ear. “That’s not technically true, but I won’t argue.”

Jamie rose up on an elbow, about to protest, then Ryan’s meaning dawned on her. “Right. You can drop your hand on my diddies and my box.”

“Just sayin’…”

“Yeah, yeah. It’ll be a cold day in hell before you touch my…”

“Gicker?”

“Gicker?”

“One of many terms. But we don’t really need a word, since we’ll never have to refer to it.”

Jamie pulled her over and kissed her. “Such a brat.”

“I’m perfectly satisfied to play with your gee. You know I think you’ve got a lovely gowl. Nicest growler I’ve ever seen.”

“Let’s stick with vulva, okay? Or better yet, just point.”

Ryan chuckled. “Fine by me, my little bean flicker.”

Jamie rolled her eyes. “Bean flicker?”

“Lesbian.” Ryan pointed her tongue and wiggled it up and down. “Flick your bean.”

“Yes, you may, now that you mention it.” She was giggling when she put her hands on Ryan’s shoulders and tried to push her down the bed. “Go play with my growler or I might bite. I’m still throbbing from this afternoon.”

“Oh, I’ll play with all of your available parts. But don’t direct me; you know I like to drive.”

Jamie released her grip and lay back. She put her arms out and spread her legs apart. “All yours, honey. Feel free to render my neo-whatever completely useless.”

Conor sat in his room, trying to convince himself to visit his father. He knew that Rory was right and that Martin would only get angrier with time. Still, he hated to grovel, and he knew he’d have to kiss his father’s ring to get back into his good graces. It was almost 9:00 and he knew his father and Maeve went to bed fairly early, so he got up and started to trudge over to the house. For no reason in particular he decided to take Duffy, figuring he and the dog could go for a walk to drain off some tension if things didn’t go well.

After a perfunctory knock he entered the house, calling out, “Anybody home?”

“We’re in the kitchen,” Maeve responded. “Come on back, dear.”

“It’s dear and dog,” Conor said. Duffy ran ahead and said hello to Martin and Maeve in his usual enthusiastic fashion. When Conor entered the kitchen, Maeve was leaning over rubbing Duffy’s head and Martin was standing at the sink, a dark glower on his face.

“What a nice surprise,” Maeve said. “How about a slice of cherry pie?”

“I’m…pretty full. I thought I’d go for a walk. Wanna go with me, Da?”

Maeve looked a little puzzled, and she gave Martin a quick glance. His expression was a little less malevolent, but it was clear he was unhappy.

“I’m not sure I’m in the mood,” Martin said. His voice was low and quiet, and before Conor could blink, Maeve was leaving the room. She didn’t say a word as she left, and neither man commented on her departure, but Duffy dutifully followed her.

Conor sat down on a chair and studied the table for a moment. The room was so quiet he could hear the clock ticking. When he spoke, his voice sounded loud. “I came to apologize.”

“For what?” Martin asked. He remained at the sink, but he was no longer washing dishes. His sleeves were rolled up and his arms crossed over his chest, his expression blank.

“For what I said this afternoon. For…everything,” he added, trying to cover all bases.

“And what about Catherine?”

The question hung in the air for a few moments, then Conor cleared his throat and said, “That’s my business, Da. I’m really sorry for what I said about you and Aunt Maeve. I’m really glad you two fell in love, and it’s been good for all of us. I just hope you know that I love the family as much as you do. I wouldn’t do anything to screw things up.”

Martin pushed away from the sink and moved to the table where he pulled out a chair and sat. Leaning over, he looked carefully at Conor. “You don’t always know what’s ahead of you, son. You also don’t know what’s going on in Catherine’s head. If you have a lick of sense, you’ll stop accepting her gifts and her invitations.”

Conor looked back at his father, gazing into his eyes until he began to feel uncomfortable. “I do have sense. And I am an adult. I need to make my own decisions, but I’m happy to listen to you, Da. Advice is one thing, though. Being told what to do isn’t gonna work.”

Clapping his hands together, Martin stood. “Fine. You know what my advice is. And whether you believe this or not, Maeve and I would have cut it off if we were sure you children didn’t approve.” His eyes filled with tears. “It would have broken my heart in two,” Martin said. “But nothing is more important to me than the happiness and safety of my family.”

Conor pushed his chair back and stood up. He wrapped his father in a hug, both men slapping each other loudly on the back. Pulling back he said, “I know that, Da. I promise I feel the same. But there’s nothing wrong with what I’m doing. I’m helping Catherine out and enjoying her company. Nothing to worry about.”

Martin grasped his son’s shoulders and looked into his eyes. “I hope that’s true, boy. I truly do.”

The next morning, Maeve let herself into the children’s house to deliver a basket of muffins she’d made. It was early, but someone was up since she could hear the upstairs shower running. She placed them on the dining table so they’d notice them, and when she started for the door she saw one of the chairs leaning against the wall. Investigating closer, she saw that two of the legs had been shattered. She didn’t know a lot about carpentry, but she knew the chair had been destroyed by force, not use. Briefly, she wondered if the boys had been fighting, but then she recalled the look on Martin’s face when Conor had visited and added the fact that Martin had been completely silent about the reason for Conor’s visit.

Maeve tried to dismiss the entire incident, but found herself unable to. Whoever had fractured the chair had been very angry as well as fearsomely strong. A chill came over her, along with images of Charlie’s face just before he would slap her or one of the children. She wished she could wipe the images from her mind, but they were embedded. In her heart she knew that Martin was nothing like Charlie, but seeing the broken chair took her back to those awful times and she wished she’d not visited the house at all.

Instead of heading home, she decided to go to St. Philip’s for the early Mass. A little prayerful reflection always made her feel more centered, and this was shaping up to be a day that begged for calm.

PART THREE

JAMIE WAS WALKING across campus, the mid-afternoon sun feeling good on her skin. It was warm for May, and dozens of students were lying on the broad expanses of grass that dotted the campus. She was on University Drive, and as she passed Evans Hall, the math building, she glanced over and recognized the unmistakable figure of her partner. Ryan was on the west side of the building, below the open plaza that was filled with students. If Ryan had been alone, Jamie would have thought it odd that she was leaning against the building in a relatively private spot. But given that she was talking to an attractive woman, tendrils of an emotion Jamie hated to recognize—jealousy—seemed to reach out and envelop her heart. She stopped in her tracks, causing the man behind her to bump into her. He mumbled an insincere “sorry” and she moved off the street, trying to decide whether or not to approach Ryan.

Ryan looked interested, animated, but Jamie was relieved to see that her “predator” look was absent. As she studied her, she had to admit that the predator look wasn’t entirely absent, but it was just a glimmer of what it used to be. Nonetheless, seeing even a shred of it made her stomach hurt.

Jamie had never seen the woman Ryan was talking to; she was pretty sure she’d remember her if she had. She was tall, but not nearly as tall as Ryan, with wavy blonde hair that just reached the nape of her neck. The sun was shining on the pair, and the woman’s hair seemed like it was a dozen different shades, ranging from gold to a light brown. It was the kind of blonde that had to be natural, and her gentle curls seemed completely authentic, too. Jamie was beginning to assess her clothing when she caught herself and tried to stop. But it was hard, very hard to ignore the fact that her lover was standing in an isolated spot with a very pretty woman who Jamie didn’t know.

Since she was standing by the side of the street with no apparent purpose, Jamie decided she’d better say hello or go home. She wasn’t sure why, but she chose to go home, turning around and going the wrong direction so she didn’t have to pass close by Ryan.

X

Nearly an hour later, Ryan came bounding up the stairs to the house, not noticing Jamie sitting in a chair on the porch. “Running late?” Jamie asked, making Ryan squeal and drop her books.

“Christ!” She put her hand on her heart and took a big breath. “You scared the crap out of me!”

“Just saying hi.”

Ryan walked over and dropped a kiss on her partner’s head. “Nice day, huh?”

“Great. Are you running late?”

“Yeah. Very. Some kid stopped me when I was leaving your hall.”

As always, Jamie smiled when Ryan referred to the math building as hers. They both knew that Jim Evans was the first Evans with any significant money, and that he gave his university donations only to Stanford. Nonetheless, Ryan was unremitting in her belief that Evans Hall was Jamie’s.

“A kid?” Jamie asked, trying to sound mildly interested.

“Yeah.” Ryan picked up her books and opened the door. “Somebody who wanted to talk to me about the Putnam.”

“Oh. I guess you’re the person to see if a woman wants to take the test.”

Ryan cocked her head. “I didn’t say it was a woman.”

Trying hard to keep the color from her cheeks, Jamie said, “I just assumed it was. I mean, if I was a woman and I wanted to take the test, you’re the one I’d ask about it. Since you got the highest score…of all of the women…you know.”

“Yeah, I guess I did,” Ryan said, smiling inscrutably. “Gotta get ready.”

Jamie waved, affixing the most natural smile she could. “I’ll be here.”

When Ryan entered the house, Jamie’s head dropped back to hit the chair. “Smooth. Very smooth. Maybe I should join the C.I.A.”

At dinner that night, Jamie once again tried to draw her partner out. “What kind of advice did the person you talked to this afternoon want about the Putnam?”

“The person,” Ryan said, emphasizing the word with a sly grin, “wanted some advice on what kinds of things to study, how early to start, how much time to spend on it. Just the usual.”

“What did you tell him or her?”

Ryan carefully pulled a slice of yellow pepper from her salad and nibbled on it delicately while she thought, looking a little like a rabbit. “Are you really interested?”

“Sure. Of course.”

“Mmm…I said that a person could devote years to boning up on all of the areas they test, but that I didn’t think that was wise. I recommended a few basic books that give a good overview of all of the disciplines and said they’d be a good place to start.” She pulled out a green bean and ate it just as she had the pepper. “I wanted to make it clear that the Putnam isn’t all that important in the scheme of things. It’s silly to let your coursework slip to work on it.” She shrugged her shoulders. “If you’re lucky, you do well. If not, no big deal.”

“Easy for you to say,” Jamie said, her nose wrinkling when she smiled. “You’re a very lucky woman.”

Ryan’s eyes met Jamie’s and she smiled lovingly. “True. I met you and that’s the luckiest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Taking Ryan’s hand, Jamie kissed the back of it, then noticed a scratch across her knuckles. She kissed along the scratch, saying, “Bad owie.”

Ryan took a look. “I didn’t notice. Must have happened at practice.”

“So…” Jamie said, once again trying to lead Ryan, “will you help this person study for the test?”

Sitting up and giving Jamie a very puzzled look, Ryan said, “I won’t be on campus next year. I don’t have any plans to tutor people.”

“I just thought you might have made plans.”

“Nope.”

Ryan focused on her salad again, and Jamie had to admit defeat. She ate listlessly, frustrated by her inability to pull any information from Ryan and wondering if her lover was intentionally hiding something. When Ryan was finished with her salad, she got up and put her dish in the sink, then took the quiche Jamie had made from the oven. After filling their dishes, she delivered them to the table. “Looks great.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Loading her fork, Ryan blew on it to cool it down. Not looking at Jamie, she said, “Her name is Chloe, and she’s a sophomore. I’ve never met her before, but Robin Berkowitz is her advisor and she told her to look me up. She’s an applied math major, and her focus is computer science.” She popped the bite of quiche into her mouth and nodded. “Good.” Chewing, she added, “Other than the fact that she’s damned good-looking, I didn’t learn anything else about her.” She focused her gaze on Jamie and smiled. “Okay?”

Glowering, Jamie said, “If you knew I wanted information, you could have just told me.”

Still smiling, Ryan said, “When you see me on campus, you should just come say hello. There’s no one in that whole place I’d rather talk to than you. And, just for the record, I guarantee that I’d be more discreet if I were going to cheat on you.”

Jamie stabbed at her entrée. “I don’t know whether to be embarrassed or angry.”

“If you have a choice, I’d go with embarrassed, ’cause I didn’t do one thing wrong.”

“You played with me!” Jamie’s eyes were filled with fire.

“You played with me! When I told you I was talking to someone, you could have said you’d seen me. But you didn’t.” Ryan lowered her voice and reached for her lover’s hand, stroking her thumb across the back of it. “Why do you assume I have something to hide?”

“I don’t,” Jamie said, nearly whining.

“Yes, you do. If you didn’t, you would have waved or stopped and said ‘hi’, or mentioned it when I brought it up. You were worried, Jamie, and the fact that you go there worries me.”

Shaking her head in a gesture of pure frustration, Jamie said, “I talk about this all of the time in therapy. I swear I’m trying to get over it.”

Ryan pushed her chair away from the table and patted her lap invitingly. Smiling a little, Jamie got up and sat on her lap, draping her arm around Ryan’s neck. “If you’re aware of it and trying to overcome it, that’s all I ask,” Ryan said. “It hurts to have you doubt me, but I can be patient.”

“I swear I’m trying.” She rested her cheek against Ryan’s, sighing deeply. “Since I’m trying to stop being suspicious, will you stop playing with me when I do it? It makes me feel stupid.”

“Yeah,” Ryan whispered. “I’ll try. I guess I am trying to make you feel stupid, and that’s wrong of me. But you hurt me and I try to get you back. Not very mature.”

“No, it’s not. But at least you’re honest.” She bumped against her, a very soft laugh bubbling up.

“We have to be honest to have a good marriage. We have to.”

“I know. I really do know how important it is.” Jamie kissed her cheek and got up, then sat in her own chair. “I wasn’t like this with Jack. But once I found out about both of my parents’ cheating…”

“I’m sure that makes it hard to trust.”

Finally taking a bite of her dinner, Jamie nodded at the quality of her quiche and said, “They’re the people I trust—or trusted—the most in my life. And they were both lying about something really important.”

“True. But they weren’t lying to you.”

Giving her an irritated look, Jamie said, “Yes, they were. They were trying to maintain this image of a good marriage when they were tearing each other apart. The whole thing was a lie.”

Ryan nodded, realizing they could easily get bogged down in semantics. “The important thing is that you know why you’ve become distrustful, and you’re trying to change. That’s a big deal.”

“It is. And it’s a lot harder than it looks.”

“I’ve had some tough things in my life, but I’ve never had to doubt either of my parents. I’m sure I’d see the world differently if I had. So I’m really trying to be patient, Jamers. But sometimes…”

“You get hurt.”

“Yeah. I get hurt and I react. Usually by trying to make you look dumb. I’m not proud of that.”

“Well, like I said, you’re honest about it. I know you’ll try to stop.”

“I promise,” Ryan said, looking into her eyes.

“I do, too. Now, can we eat before this is ice cold?”

“Yep. I put the rest back into the oven. Let me get you a hot piece.”

Jamie held up her plate. “Normally, I’d tell you not to bother, but you did start this right when I was about to take a bite.”

Ryan got up and kissed her head. “You make a good point. I was a bad girl and my timing sucked.”

After dinner, Jamie could not summon the fortitude to study, so she engaged in one of her guilty little pleasures and called Mia. She was pleased when her friend answered on the first ring. “Were you sitting on the phone?”

“Nah. This place is so small that I just have to lean one way or the other to reach everything. What’s goin’ on, girlfriend?”

“Not much. I should be studying, so I’m resisting the imminent boredom by calling you. Is this a good time?”

“Sure. Any time’s a good time. I’m watching TV and Jordy is acting like she’s awake.”

Jamie could hear Jordan mutter, “I’m awake.”

“My woman’s upstairs studying. But I’m nowhere near the gunner she is. I’ve really been slacking off. I order carryouts more often than I cook. I’m turning into a real slug.”

“Better watch out. Cal’s full of gorgeous, rich, smart, available lesbians who want to cook a little somethin’ somethin’ for Ryan.”

“Ugh! Don’t remind me!”

“Hey, I was kidding. You’re one of a kind.”

“Eh, I don’t know about that. But Ryan caught me trying to squeeze info out of her earlier today. I saw her chatting some woman up and didn’t have the sense to just tell her I saw her.”

“Damn, James, will you never learn?” Mia laughed heartily. “Ryan’s got that damned big brain and she has it on all the time! You can’t fuck with her!”

Joining in the laugh, Jamie said, “I must think I’m a genius or something, ’cause I keep trying. But since I never, ever succeed, I’m obviously not. A smart woman would learn from her mistakes.”

“So, tell. Who was the chick?”

“You’ve gotta let me set it up,” Jamie said. “Then you’ll understand why I tried to trick her.”

“Go for it.”

“You know Evans Hall?”

“No. I mean, I know it’s tall and I know where it is, but I don’t know it inside and out.”

“But you know how it sits? With that big, blank wall in the back?”

“Kinda. You know I don’t pay attention to things that don’t affect me.”

“Well, there’s a big, wide kinda plaza in the front of the building where people hang out. It’s about, I don’t know, fifteen or twenty feet off the ground. Under that plaza thing is this bare wall. There’s no path or anything close to it, and there are some trees around there, so it’s not a good place to sit in the sun or anything.”

“Right,” Mia said, obviously recalling the building. “It’s boring looking.”

“Yeah, it is, but it’s also a good place to talk to someone in private.”

“But it’s not hidden, is it?”

“No, I guess not. If you’re walking down Uni Drive you see it—if you’re looking. But,” she added mysteriously, “you never are!”

“And this is where Ryan was?”

“Yep. Hiding in plain sight.”

“But you saw her,” Mia said slowly. “So it wasn’t a very good hiding place. Now if you want hiding places—”

Jamie cut her off. “I don’t want ’em. And we found a few of our own before I came out to you.”

“Well, look at you! Good work, girlfriend.”

“Thank you. Of course, Ryan found them all, so I can’t really take credit.”

“What was Ryan doing? Was she doing that thing she used to do where she’d put her hands on either side of the victim’s shoulders? That was a great one,” she said with obvious admiration. “If I was taller, that would have been a great one to steal.”

“You saw her doing that?”

“Sure. We worked out together at the gym, you know. And, if I’m gonna be totally honest, I used to look for her around campus. Seeing her used to perk up my whole day.”

“You were watching my sweetheart?”

“Sure. I was with Jason then, and we clearly weren’t monogamous. If I had a chance, I woulda pounced on her.”

“Damn! You’ve never told me that.” She paused for a minute. “I bet you’ve never told Jordan that, either. She’s gonna hear you.”

“I’m not stupid,” Mia said. “I got out of bed and came into the living room. She’s sound asleep.”

“Then tell me more about this Ryan thing. Why didn’t you hook up?”

“I never had a chance. I never got a vibe from her. None! And I’ll admit that I was a little insulted.”

“Huh. No vibes at all?”

“Zip. And I was open to ’em. I must not be her type.”

“You’re exactly her type,” Jamie said ruefully. “I’ll have to ask her. Maybe it’s because she knew you had a boyfriend.”

“Doubtful. She went out with a girl I knew who was engaged.”

Jamie was silent for a moment, once again trying and only partially succeeding in keeping from judging Ryan on her past behavior.

“Uhm, is it cool that I said that? I know you hate that she did shit like that.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know she didn’t have a problem with dating women in relationships.”

“You know I agree with her. We’ve talked about this, bud.”

“I know, I know. It’s a sore spot between us, and I’m beginning to think we’ll never resolve it.”

“Come on, buddy. You’ve gotta loosen up.”

“I know that. It’s not fair of me to even think about Ryan’s past.”

“Or mine,” Mia said quietly. “I fooled around with anyone I liked. It didn’t matter to me what was going on in their lives. Ryan and I must fall in the same category in your book.”

“Oh, baby, I don’t think less of you or of Ryan. It’s just hard for me. Learning about my father changed so much for me. It’s given me a jaded view of so many things. Think about how you’d feel if you found out that your mom had been screwing every delivery boy who came to your house for the last twenty years. Wouldn’t it freak you out a little?”

Mia sighed. “Yeah, of course it would. Especially if my dad didn’t know.”

“I know it’s none of my business, especially since all of this happened before Ryan and I were together, but it makes me question her fidelity to me. If she didn’t respect other relationships, how do I know she’ll respect ours?”

“Babe, if you’re really questioning that, you’d better talk about it. A lot. I couldn’t be with Jordan if I thought she doubted me.”

“She doesn’t? Ever?”

“Never,” Mia said emphatically. “She doesn’t ask about my past and I don’t volunteer. For all she knows, I had one boyfriend.” She laughed softly. “Well, that’s not true. When we were first together, I told her about Mark and Melissa. So she knows I was tag-teaming a guy and a girl when I was in high school. Oh. And she asked about Conor. But we had a fight about that, and since then, she doesn’t show the slightest interest in my prior relationships. I’m not sure if it’s lack of interest or fear, but either way it’s good.”

“I made the mistake of asking a billion questions,” Jamie admitted. “I wish I would have kept my big mouth shut, or that Ryan would have told me it was none of my business.”

“She’s not the type. She’s one of those sickeningly forthright people. Unluckily for you.”

“She’s my sweetheart and I love that she’s so forthright. I’ve just got to learn how to get past this. We can’t erase the past, and I can’t make her feel guilty about something.”

“But you can’t change how you feel. And you shouldn’t,” Mia said. “You have morals you shouldn’t feel bad about.”

“I don’t feel bad for having morals. But they’re mine. I can either find someone whose match mine exactly, or I can learn that having a different view isn’t horrible. That’s what I’ve gotta work on.”

“That makes sense. Good luck with that,” Mia said, chuckling.

“Are you implying I’m inflexible?”

“No, I’m not implying it. I’m stating it.” Mia giggled. “But you’ve loosened up a lot in the last year. You can let go of this if you try.”

“I’m trying. Now, do you want to hear about the woman Ryan was talking with?”

“Depends. Was she hot?”

“She was cute, but not hot, if you know what I mean.”

“Got it.”

“All Ryan will give me is that her name’s Chloe and that she’s a sophomore math major. She’s got great hair, though. Really great.”

“Why was Ryan talking to her?”

“She said that Chloe wanted some advice on how to study for that big math test Ryan took.”

“Sounds pretty harmless―a math major asking for some advice from the woman who just kicked ass in the test. She might actually be telling the truth, James.”

“I believe her, Mia. It’s just that when I first saw them, I froze, and I let all sorts of things get into my head. Then I tried to trick her into telling me about the girl. She caught me in two seconds.”

“You’ve gotta quit trying that shit. She’s like a fox.”

“I know, I know. I’ve also gotta start trusting her.”

“Right. Do that. Now on to the next topic. Have you gotten your stuff on graduation yet? I just got mine and I wanna see if we graduate anytime near each other.”

“Yeah, I got mine. English is at The Greek on May the fifteenth.

“When’s Ryan’s?”

“Mmm…” Jamie looked around the room and spotted Ryan’s organizer. “Let me look in Ryan’s book. I’m sure she’s already neatly entered all of the information on the proper day. Hold on.” She dashed over to the table and picked up the heavy book, then carried it back to where she had been sitting. “I can’t believe she carries this huge thing around, but she’s always writing in it, so I guess she needs it with her.”

She opened the book and ran her finger down the plastic ruler that Ryan used to mark the current day. Just to check, she looked at the page and saw that it rested on May the third, the current date. There was an entry in Ryan’s bold hand stating, “Call Chloe,” and the number. The name was underlined four times and bore an exclamation point as well.

“Oh, fuck,” Jamie muttered.

“What?”

“I just looked in her book and she has a big entry to call that woman. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“James! We just went over this.”

“I know! If I ask her now she’ll know I was snooping.”

“I meant that you have to trust her, doofus, not that you should figure out why she’s gonna call the woman. Damn, James, this really is a big deal for you. You were never like this with Jack, and he could have been up to all sorts of shit down in Palo Alto.”

Jamie’s answer was immediate and unequivocal. “I didn’t feel like this about Jack.”

“I guess that’s the good and bad news for Ryan. You don’t trust her because you’re really in love with her.”

“I do trust her, dammit. I just….”

“Want to know who she talks to, calls, and thinks about. That’s a little more like stalking than trust.”

Annoyed, Jamie said, “I know I’ve got work to do. You don’t have to remind me.”

“Fine. How about this? Does she mind if you look at her stuff?”

“No. Well, I don’t think so. I don’t do it often, but she leaves her book out, so it must not be something she wants kept private. Besides, she’s asked me to check things in there before.”

“This might be too radical, but you could do something wild and tell her the truth. The whole truth.”

“Mmm, I think I’d better talk to Anna first. She’ll tell me the same thing, but I’m paying her to do it.”

“I’m in trouble when I say the same thing a therapist says. I’ve gotta put a stop to that right now.”

“Well, she might also tell me to stop snooping and keep my suspicions to myself. I’m not sure.”

“Let me know, so I never repeat a professional opinion.”

“Will do. Aside from listening to me whine, whatcha been up to?”

“Just working on my senior thesis.”

“You have a senior thesis? Really?”

“Yeah. American Studies is a real major. Do you think I’m in the trade school section?”

“No, of course not. But you’ve never mentioned one. I thought you might be in one of the majors where you could opt out.”

“Unh-uh. Wish I was.”

“But don’t you have to take a thesis seminar? Won’t they know you’re not there?”

“I took it last term. Now I just have to write the paper.”

“You haven’t started?!?”

“Of course I have. I had to do a lot during my seminar. It’s all organized and stuff, it’s just the writing I have to do.”

“All of it?”

“Yep. And it’s due next week. Guess I’d better get busy, huh?”

“Fuck, Mia,” Jamie whispered. “Is that even possible?”

“We’ll see. Wish me luck, huh?”

“What’s your topic?”

“The title is ‘Fly-Girl Feminists.’”

“Huh? What in the hell—”

“It’s about hip-hop and rap, and about how women who are politically sensitive can love the music even though some of the lyrics are way beyond sexist.”

Jamie sounded more than a little skeptical. “You can do that for a topic?”

“You know,” Mia said slowly, “you’re really dissin’ me today. Just because I don’t spend my library time in the dusty section, doesn’t mean that my topic’s bullshit. I’m in American Studies, babe. And rap and hip-hop are very important American creations.”

“Damn, Mia, I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think that I’m belittling you. I’m really not. It just surprised me that you could do something so…current. I guess I do really have a Nineteenth Century perspective.”

“Eh, that’s okay. I’m just kinda sensitive about the whole thing. My mom was giving me a hard time about it the other day, acting like she’d thrown away her money on my degree.”

“That’s not fair.”

“When are parents fair?” Mia asked, chuckling. “She has a weird view about school. When she was young, she took classes in Stanford’s extension program, and she only took things like philosophy and literature and history. All the boring stuff. She thinks that’s what college is for.”

“Kinda old school,” Jamie said.

“Literally. But I’m not interested in that stuff. I am interested in hip-hop, and I think I can do a good thesis. I’d better, ’cause I really wanna graduate with you guys.”

“Oh. Let me check Ryan’s book. I assume I won’t find anything worse than I already have.” She thumbed through the pages. “Here it is. Math is on May seventeenth at 3:00 and MCB is on the nineteenth at 7:00. Same day as yours. Oh, shit!”

“What? Now what did you find?”

“Nothing bad. But she has to be in Fresno if the softball team makes the NCAAs, which I’m sure they will. She won’t get to go to her own graduation.”

“Or mine!”

“Damn, Mia. She can’t miss yours and hers.”

“Can she make the math one?”

“Yeah. But that doesn’t help.”

“I know. But I guess you’ll have to satisfy yourself looking at how cute she is in her little group of nerds just once. And that’s only if her gown’s long enough. Nothing looks worse than a short gown.”

“Good point. I’ll have to investigate. I can’t have my baby looking like she’s wearing hand-me-downs.”

“Will you go order mine? We’ll wear the same size.”

“Sure. I was gonna go this week. But maybe you should send Hannan,” she said, laughing.

“Nah. I’d have to pay her. You’re cheap.”

“One of my best features. Hey, do you want a stole?”

“A stole.” There was a few seconds of silence, then Mia said, “Is that the sash thing?”

“Yeah. It’s gold satin. Goes around your neck and hangs down. It just dresses up your gown a little bit.”

“Sure. I’ll take one.”

“Want it embroidered with anything? You could have a club or a sorority, but you’re not in anything like that. You can also have the year put on it.”

“Whatever. Think they’ll let me put ‘Jordan Ericsson Fan Club’ on it?”

“Doubtful, but I’ll ask. Now I’m gonna go figure out a way to let Ryan be in two places at once. I’m a busy girl.”

“Get on it, girl. It’s a big job. And Jamie, forget about her calling that chick. I’m sure it’s just to give her some info about the test.”

“I know. If she was cheating, she’d never let me catch her. She’s so friggin’ wily.”

“Good news and bad,” Mia said. “But she’s worth the trouble and you know it.”

“All true. Give my love to Jordan, and keep a big hunk for yourself.”

“Same to you and Ryan. Call me soon.”

“I will, hon. Love you.”

After she hung up, Jamie stayed in the downstairs library. She could have easily studied in her bedroom, but with Ryan right next door she’d found that she continually peeked into her room to tell her something or ask a question. Ryan was always patient and acted like she was happy to be interrupted, but Jamie knew it wasn’t optimal studying conditions for her intense partner.

Even in another room, Jamie had a hard time keeping her mind on real estate financing. Her eyes kept darting to the phone, checking to see if Ryan picked up the extension in her room. It took hours, but finally, at 9 o’clock, Jamie saw the green light flicker. She waited for a few minutes, partly to try to compose her expression. Then she went upstairs and turned on her computer. She made more noise than usual, just so Ryan would know she was upstairs. Then she opened the door to Ryan’s room, saying, “Honey? Did you—” Seeing Ryan lying on the bed, talking into the receiver, she put her hand over her mouth and pointed to the phone, whispering, “Sorry.”

Ryan waved her off and patted the bed, inviting Jamie to join her. Surprised, she did, snuggling next to her lover’s warm body. Ryan was clearly speaking about math classes, saying, “I probably made a mistake by making geometry and logic my semi-electives. I should have taken more computing. 128A would have helped me more than 130. I mean, classical geometries interested me, but I should have paid more attention to things I might need in the future. I know that over the long-term, computing will be more important than geometry. But that’s what happens when you don’t plan for the future.”

Chloe spoke for a minute, then Ryan offered her opinion on a professor. “I’d choose Wu. She’s kinda hard to understand, but once you get used to her speech pattern, you won’t have a problem. Actually, I’d take her and try to make myself known. I’d be surprised if she doesn’t wind up with a Nobel for the work she’s doing on fast algorithms. She’s really on to something, and it’s gonna change things big time if she’s right. Having someone like her write a recommendation for you would really get you noticed. If you go to grad school, that is. I assume you’re planning on it.”

Jamie felt so comfortable lying against her lover that she was nearly asleep. Her anxieties were gone, and she felt so good about Ryan inviting her into the room that she was calm and peaceful.

Ryan said, “Thanks. But I’m skating this term. The only exam I have is in French.” She laughed softly. “No, and I wouldn’t take it at all if I didn’t have to.” She paused. “For grad school.” Another pause. “For the language requirement.” Jamie was jerked awake when Ryan sat up like a shot. “What do you mean? Why not?” Her voice was rising, and she nearly shouted, “Are you sure? Really sure?” Then she fell back onto the bed. “Fuck me. Fuck. Me.”

Jamie looked at her partner with wide eyes, but Ryan’s pique didn’t last long. Now she started to laugh, and kept going until tears were running down her cheeks. Jamie wasn’t sure what was funny, but she had to laugh as well. Watching Ryan laugh was so contagious that she couldn’t help herself, even without having the slightest idea of why she was laughing.

Ryan got control of herself and said, “I don’t know why I’m laughing. French has been kicking my ass! I’d rather take Diophantine approximation with al Naqshband at 7 a.m. than elementary French!”

She laughed again. “Yeah, French is easier to understand than English when al Naqshband is talking. I don’t know where he’s from, but he obviously didn’t take English when he was young.” Another chuckle. “Yeah, I guess it’s possible he never took it.” She looked at Jamie and rolled her eyes, mouthing, “I’m stupid.”

Jamie put her hand on her thigh, patting her gently.

“I’ve gotta go. I have to bang my head against the wall for a while, then study some more French verbs. Damn me and my laziness.” She laughed again and said, “Sure. I don’t mind. When I transferred in, I didn’t know anyone who’d taken upper division courses at Cal. I woulda loved to have someone to bounce ideas off.”

Ryan nodded and said, “Any time. You’ve got my number. See you around.” Then she hung up. Before Jamie could ask a question, Ryan jumped up and went to the wall, then softly banged her head against it. “I’m the stupidest, laziest woman in the Western Hemisphere.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

Ryan turned and looked at her. “There’s no language requirement for grad school in the sciences or math. I. Didn’t. Have. To. Take. French.”

“Oh, honey,” Jamie said, trying unsuccessfully not to laugh. “You poor thing.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t check!” Ryan put her hands to her head and acted like she was going to rip out handfuls of hair. “You told me you had to know a foreign language in grad school, and I just assumed I’d have to.”

“I…I guess I thought you might need another language to read scientific journals. Isn’t French important in science?”

“Yeah, it is. But there’s no requirement. At least that’s what Chloe says.”

“Oh,” Jamie said, trying to sound surprised. “Is that who you were talking to?”

“Yeah.” Ryan went to her computer and pulled up the site for the graduate program in biology at Berkeley. “It doesn’t say one feckin’ thing about a foreign language.” She turned in her chair and gave Jamie a blank look. “Is it too late to drop?”

“Ryan, don’t be like that. You’ll do just fine and you know it.”

Eyes wide, Ryan shook her head. “No, I don’t know it. I’m sure I’ll pass, but…” She trailed off, looking disgusted. “There were lots of fun courses I could have taken.” She looked thoroughly dejected. “I really wanted to take this seminar on RNA-controlled gene expression, but I knew it would be a lot of work and I didn’t think I could do it with my independent project and French.”

“My poor girl,” Jamie soothed, getting off the bed and standing next to Ryan. She took her lover’s head and nuzzled it against herself, threading her fingers through Ryan’s hair. “You didn’t get to take a nice, fun course like RNA-something-I-don’t-understand.” She laughed, making Ryan’s head bounce.

“Don’t make fun of me. I’m really disappointed.”

“I’m not making fun of you. I understand how much enjoyment you get out of learning things.”

“Things I’m interested in,” Ryan corrected. “I’m not interested in French. It’s fine with me if I never use one of the words I’ve temporarily forced into my medium-term memory. I’m gonna be like Mia and do a core-dump when I walk out of that final.”

“I wish I looked like you so I could take the test for you,” Jamie said. “I could be your Hannan.”

Ryan’s head tilted up and she grinned. “You’d have to use stilts, too.”

“I’d do it for you.” Jamie leaned down and kissed Ryan’s head. “I’d do anything for you.”

“Then why didn’t you check to see that I didn’t need to take a stinkin’ language? That woulda been helpful!”

An hour later, they lay in bed, with Jamie trying to stay awake while Ryan finished an article she was reading. It was early, not even 10:30, but Jamie was fading fast. She’d been idly thinking about having sex ever since Ryan got home, but she didn’t mention her desire, preferring to let it build until they had an opportune time. The moment seemed right, even though Ryan was engrossed in whatever she was reading, so Jamie made a small move to signal her interest.

She lifted her hand from Ryan’s hip and placed it on her belly. Slowly, she made small circles with the flat of her hand, just letting Ryan know she was there. After a moment, Ryan’s hand covered hers and patted her absently, but the blue eyes didn’t waver from the text.

Jamie moved her hand to Ryan’s leg and palpated the muscles in her thigh. Even though Ryan wasn’t working out as often as she used to, her legs were still in great shape. She was running and sprinting for softball, and she’d taken to blading around Berkeley to keep strong and agile. Jamie loved to see her zooming across campus, looking about seven feet tall and as graceful as a ballerina.

The thigh rubbing wasn’t having its intended effect, and Jamie was anxious to get something started, so she took a bottle of moisture lotion from her nightstand and scooted down to the end of the bed. “Mind if I rub your feet?”

Ryan slowly lowered her magazine, giving Jamie a wry, puzzled smile. “Under what circumstances would I say no to that offer?”

“Can’t think of many, so I won’t bother to ask next time.”

Ryan made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “You have explicit permission to rub my feet any time you want.”

Jamie put some lotion on her hands and started rubbing it in. “You’re getting some rough skin around your heel,” she said, looking carefully. “I should give you a pedicure.”

“If you want,” Ryan said, her magazine back in front of her face.

“Not tonight. I’m kinda tired.”

“Mmm, I’m getting tired too. That feels awfully nice.”

Finally! “I love to rub your feet. I know they’re one of your favorite body parts.”

“Uh-huh.” Another page turned, but no signs of interest were shown.

Jamie tried to put all of her building desire into the way in which she touched Ryan’s feet. She massaged them as if she were making love to them, lavishing loving touches on them for several minutes. Finally, Ryan dropped the magazine to the floor and held her arms up in the air to stretch.

“Feels great,” she murmured. “Come up here.” Ryan patted the bed next to her.

Grinning, Jamie scampered into place, waiting for Ryan to make her big move. But instead of a heated kiss, Ryan offered a sisterly buss on the top of the head and held Jamie tenderly in her arms, sighing heavily. “That felt so good,” she said. “It makes me feel so loved and cared for when you do something like that. It’s especially nice that I don’t even have to ask. You just instinctively know when I’m a little wound up.” She hugged Jamie harder and nuzzled her face into her hair. “Such a good girlfriend.”

“Thanks. I love to touch you. From head to toe.” She tilted her chin and puckered her lips, waiting for Ryan to kiss her properly.

But once again she was either rebuffed or misunderstood, because Ryan gave her a quick peck. “Are you ready for bed?”

“Totally,” Jamie said, smiling what she hoped was a sexy, inviting smile.

“Me, too.” Ryan turned out the light and shimmied her hips until she was flat on her back. She patted her chest. “Put that sweet head right here.”

Jamie didn’t comply. Instead, she stared at her partner in the darkness. “Are you intentionally ignoring my signals?”

Even in the darkness, there was no mistaking Ryan’s look of complete surprise. “Signals?”

“Yes! Can’t you tell I want you to make a move?”

“A move?” Ryan’s confused look turned to a smirk. “You wanna have sex?”

“Yes!” Jamie hit the mattress with her fist. “Don’t you? You’re going to Oregon tomorrow. What do I have to do to get you to start something?”

“Me? Why don’t you start something? I don’t think I’ve ever turned you down…when I was in my right mind.”

Jamie could see the fragile look that often settled onto Ryan’s face when she thought about the tough times they’d had reconnecting after the car-jacking. Trying to dispel it, she stroked her head and said, “You’re always responsive when I tell you what I want.”

“Well?” Ryan rolled onto her side and rested her head on her hand, eyes twinkling in the moonlight. “What do you want?”

“I want you to make the first move!” Jamie’s frustration was obvious, but equally obvious was Ryan’s confusion.

“Why?”

“Because…because that’s how I like it.” Jamie’s lower lip was sticking out, making her look like she was asking for a piece of candy rather than sex.

“And, I don’t usually make the first move?”

“No, you do…or you used to,” Jamie amended. “But lately you just kinda lie there and make me ask for it.”

Ryan’s eyes nearly bugged out. “Are you accusing me of being a pillow queen?”

“I don’t know. What’s a pillow queen?”

Laughing, Ryan said, “A woman who lies on her back and waits for her partner to please her. A lazy lay.”

“Well.” Jamie looked at her thoughtfully, the dim light barely allowing her features to be seen. “Lately you have been a pillow queen. You used to pick up the smallest signal I gave you. But lately I have to make a clear sex move if I want you to respond. What gives?”

“Come lie by me,” Ryan said. Jamie did, lying so they were sharing the same pillow. Ryan put her hand on her hip and scooted closer, so their bellies touched. “I wasn’t aware that I was doing anything differently. I don’t feel any different. I’m sure of that.”

“Really?” Jamie asked, sounding like she very much wanted to be reassured.

“Really. You’re the only woman I want, and I want you every time you have desire.”

“What about you? You’re the one who used to run the show, and you’re not doing it anymore. That’s what’s got me worried.”

“Huh.” Ryan breathed out slowly, clearly thinking. “I don’t feel particularly sexual lately, but that’s not odd for me. I always lose my edge at the end of a term.”

“Not last spring,” Jamie said, giving Ryan a droll look. “You had enough edge for all of Cal.”

“That’s not a fair comparison. We were just falling in love. No one could keep up that pace. I was so turned on every time you looked at me, my hair hurt!”

Jamie reached up and grasped the T-shirt Ryan wore, shaking her a bit. “I miss that.”

“I don’t,” Ryan said slowly. “I don’t know if I’ve thought of it before, but I love the security of being with you. It’s so nice to know that I have someone who loves me and desires me waiting for me at the end of the day. I never want to go back to that quest for the holy pussy I used to be on.”

“Nice turn of phrase.” Jamie looked slightly ill.

“You know what I mean.”

“You felt you were just waiting for pussy last spring?”

“No, of course not. Once we fell in love, everything was different. I’m talking about before that, when I was always sniffing around looking for new talent.”

“What does that have to do with us now?”

“It’s, it’s a lessening of pressure,” Ryan said. “I don’t have to be like a scent-hound, always on the watch. I can just be myself and listen to my own body for cues.”

“And mine,” Jamie said, her words not covering their sting.

“Of course. Of course. It’s my job to pay attention to your cues, and I’m sorry if I haven’t been. It’s just…it’s just that I’ve never been in this position before, Jamers. I’ve never had sex available to me whenever I wanted it. It’s taken me a year to get comfortable with that, and maybe I’m too comfortable.”

“I don’t want you to be too comfortable. I still want you to want me.”

“I do! But in the old days I was always semi-turned on. I was always receptive in case I happened across a partner. I was like a hunter/gatherer. If I found sex, I took it. Even if I hadn’t particularly been looking for it. I never knew if there was gonna be a famine, so I had to gorge when it was available.”

Jamie patted her indulgently. “You were a hunter/gatherer in the Garden of Eden, sport. There was no famine in sight.” Even in the dark, Jamie could see that Ryan was blushing.

“I’ll admit I had pretty good luck, but I was always in a state of heightened awareness. It’s so nice not to feel like that anymore. Maybe I’ve gotten lazy.”

Jamie kissed her lips softly. “You’re always receptive if I make it clear that I want to make love. I’m just used to you being the other way—the ‘give you an inch and you’ll take a mile’ way.”

“Guilty. Totally guilty.”

“If I’d touched your tummy, then your leg, then rubbed your feet last summer…well, I wouldn’t have gotten past your tummy before you would have had me on my back.” She smiled warmly. “I loved that.”

Ryan let her eyes roam all over Jamie’s face, closely observing her. “It makes a big difference to you, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. I wish it didn’t, but I like it when you know what I want and give it to me.”

Ryan moved her head closer, so close Jamie could feel her breath warm on her lips. “I want to give you what you want.” She ran her hand from Jamie’s hip up and across her back, stroking her firmly. “I like to take you,” she whispered. “Just put you on your back and take what I want.”

Eyes blazing, Jamie nodded, nostrils flaring. “Anything you want.”

“I want you,” Ryan said. “I want all of you.” She flipped Jamie onto her back and was astride her in a moment. Reaching down, she grasped the hem of Jamie’s shirt and pulled it from her body. She leaned over, keeping her eyes locked on Jamie’s. Right before she attached her mouth to a plump breast, she said, “I hope you’re ready, baby, ’cause I’m gonna give you a workout.”

“You know you’re the best trainer in the world.”

“It’s a big world,” Ryan said, eyes glittering. “Let’s just say…Northern California.” She latched on to Jamie’s breast with a vengeance, making her lover cry out and nearly push her head away.

“You’re so modest,” Jamie whimpered. She started to rub the back of Ryan’s head, stroking her in time with her suckling. “Don’t stop, baby. Don’t stop. Keep that up all night long.”

Ryan was true to her word. Jamie had been put through her paces, finally begging Ryan to let her stop orgasming. “Dear God,” she panted, fully exhausted.

“Is that what you like?” Ryan asked, hovering above her, a self-satisfied grin on her face.

“Yes, baby.” Jamie stroked her face. “That’s exactly what I like. But I won’t see twenty-five if you give that to me every night.”

Ryan flopped down next to her. “Special occasions. Like…days that end in ‘Y’.

“Wow. I’m drained! What did you do to your fingers the last time? They felt so soft.”

Ryan took Jamie’s hand and put it on her breast, letting her feel the dampness. “I used my breast.”

“You used your breast?”

“Uh-huh. I could tell you were getting sore, so I thought I’d mix things up. I wanted to use something soft and my tongue was tired.”

“It felt fantastic.” Jamie pinched the damp nipple. “It was firm and taut, but so soft.”

“Felt great to me too. I put myself between your lips and jiggled it until you responded.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Turned me on.”

Jamie kissed her, lingering a long while, exploring Ryan’s mouth. “Can you go again, baby?”

“Don’t think so.” Ryan reached down and felt around experimentally. “I’m too swollen. I’d have to use the pile driver.”

“My poor baby. I wish you could have more orgasms. I can feel how turned on you get.”

“That’s the truth. The spirit is very, very willing.”

“But you’re okay, right?” Her tone was solicitous.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m used to this. I tingle for a while, but it’s not distracting or anything.”

Jamie patted her gently. “Don’t you love lying together after we make love?”

“Nothing better. Truly. I never feel better than when we’ve been touching and kissing and sharing everything. I feel satisfied in ways that have nothing to do with sex.”

“Me too. The sex is great, don’t get me wrong, but this…” She hugged Ryan tightly, feeling her warm body and smelling the various musky scents their lovemaking had created. “This is so much more than sex.”

“It is,” Ryan whispered. “So much more.” She lay on her back and Jamie shifted so she was lying against her side. “Now how can we make sure I read your signals better?”

“I don’t know. I guess you have to pay a little more attention.”

“Just for the record, how many times have I ignored your signals? Dozens of times?”

“No, not dozens,” Jamie said quickly. “Not nearly that often.”

“Take a guess. Ten times?”

“No, not that many.”

“Five?”

“Mmm.” Jamie sucked her lower lip into her mouth and ran her teeth across it. “I can only think of one other time. Yesterday when I jumped on you when you came home to get ready for practice.”

Ryan’s eyebrows jumped up. “I wasn’t even home! I walked in the door and you started undressing me. How can you say I wasn’t reading your signals?”

Smiling sweetly, Jamie cocked her head and gazed at Ryan fondly for a moment. “If you’d made love to me that morning, I wouldn’t have been so hot.”

“Ha! The one way I can guarantee you’ll want to have sex at night is if we have sex in the morning. It’s like I’ve turned on a faucet.”

Shrugging while she smiled, Jamie said, “You’re addictive.”

“So I’ve misread your signals twice, huh?”

“Twice this week,” Jamie said, holding up two fingers and waving them in Ryan’s face. “I detected a trend and thought we should stop it quickly.”

“You’re very vigilant,” Ryan chuckled. “You know I’m happy to take the lead, but wouldn’t it be easier if you were more direct when you’re in the mood? We won’t always be in synch.”

Jamie was quiet for a moment. “I can be, but I really love it when I don’t have to be.” She moved her head and kissed Ryan again. “How’s this? I’m so totally hot for you that you can assume I want to have sex every night. Don’t forget that any time of day is fine with me,” she added.

Ryan laughed softly. “You are a little firecracker, aren’t you?”

“I have been. You have your confidence back, honey, and when you’re confident and feeling good—you’re so sexy it should be illegal!”

“Illegal? That seems harsh. I prefer immoral,” Ryan said thoughtfully.

“That’s my bad girl. You always prefer immorality, when given a choice.”

PART FOUR

WHEN THE ALARM went off the next morning, Ryan shut it off immediately. She had a 7:00 a.m. flight to Eugene, but it was so dark out and Jamie felt so warm and welcoming that she couldn’t bear the thought of getting up. Still, her conscience wouldn’t let her fall back to sleep, so she softly and delicately stroked Jamie’s body. That was a nice way of waking up, plus she had the benefit of being able to touch her partner fairly aggressively without waking her.

She concentrated her attention on Jamie’s belly, playing with the soft skin, trying to feel the abdominal muscles that used to be so evident. Much to her surprise, a sleepy voice asked, “What are you doing?”

“Sorry.” Ryan kissed the back of her neck. “Go back to sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Wanna have sex?” Jamie asked amid a yawn.

Ryan laughed. “No…well, yes, but I don’t have time. I was just touching you to wake myself up. You feel so nice.” She gently rubbed Jamie’s belly. “Makes me want to stay here all day.”

“I feel fat,” Jamie said. “Go ahead and say it.”

Ryan stopped and lifted up on an elbow. “What? Where did that come from?”

“It’s true and you know it. I haven’t done a thing since I broke my elbow. All my hard work is a complete waste. I’m as doughy as I was before I started to work out.”

“Jamie, you are not doughy. You’ve just lost some of your definition. You’ll get it back.”

“A few weeks…and I look like a marshmallow.”

“That’s nuts,” Ryan said. “Nuts.” She sat up and turned Jamie onto her back so she could see her face. “If you feel bad about how you look, why haven’t you said something?”

Jamie looked at her intently. “I was waiting to see if you’d say something.”

“What would I say?” Ryan was puzzled. “You look and feel fantastic.”

Green eyes were sparking through the darkness. “Then why were you kneading my fat gut like a ball of dough?”

“I don’t know where this is coming from, but you’re not fat, you don’t have a gut, and I wasn’t doing anything but touching one of my very favorite parts of your body. Now I’ve gotta jump in the shower, but we need to talk about this some more.”

“No, we don’t. I’m just grouchy about not being able to work out. And I hate losing all my muscle tone so quickly. It’s so frustrating!”

“I know how you feel.” Ryan got out of bed and stretched, showing off her fabulously toned body. “After my skull fracture, I looked like I’d never been in a gym. And I had to look ripped to make my clients think they could do the same thing.”

Jamie looked at her through half-closed eyes. “How long did it take to get back in shape? Don’t lie.”

“A while. A couple of months.”

Jamie thunked her splint onto the bed. “Fuck me.”

“But I was out of commission for a long time. If you wanna get busy, we can start doing some stuff now.”

“I can’t ride my bike, I can’t run; what can I do?”

“I’ll think of some things. We’ll get started when I get home from this trip.”

“Promise?”

“Yep. Now kiss me and go back to sleep. I love you, sweetheart.” They kissed gently, then Ryan pulled back and rubbed noses. “Miss me,” she whispered.

“I will. I already miss you. Come home soon.”

“Soon as I can.” After one more kiss, Ryan made a mad dash for the shower.

They’d had a long day. Getting up for the flight had not been fun for anyone, but winning the late afternoon game had given the team a burst of energy. A big group met in Lupe’s room to play cards. By 9:30, Ryan had lost all of her chips—real chips, since they played with Pringles. Jackie continued the poker game, but Ryan decided to sneak off to call Jamie. It was near bedtime, and Ryan knew that her partner would be struggling to stay awake. She lay on her back on her full-sized bed and crossed one ankle over a raised knee. Pressing a button on her cell phone, she said, “Jamie,” and waited for the phone to dial. Jamie answered on the second ring, sounding sleepy and slow.

“Hey, baby,” Ryan said. “Is my girl ready for bed?”

After a comically long yawn, Jamie chuckled and said, “Did that answer your question?”

“Yeah, I suppose it did. How’d your day go?”

“Good. Fine. I’ve been working since I got home.”

“Did you get dinner?”

“Mmm, what did I have?” She paused, then said, “I poured some salad dressing in a little cup and dunked vegetables.”

“That’s not much, buddy. You need some protein.”

“I’ll have some tomorrow. Don’t worry about me.”

“I always worry about you. You’re my life-focus.”

“Nice. I like that,” Jamie said. “But I won’t waste away. As you know, I’m carrying around a spare tire.”

“You will never, ever get me to even acknowledge your saying that, much less agree with it. You might have issues about your body, but I’m not playing that game. I only care about how you feel—and if you don’t get enough protein you won’t be able to study well.”

“Sorry,” Jamie said, sounding chastised.

“No big deal. I’m just not gonna ever agree that your body is less than ideal. It’s the most perfect wrapper in the world. As a matter of fact,” Ryan said, her voice dropping into a lower register, “I’d love to be touching your wrapper right now. I was daydreaming about you on the flight, thinking about how responsive you are and how you react to my kisses.”

“Aww, isn’t that sweet?”

Ryan was wishing Jamie would take the bait and show some receptivity towards a little phone sex, but she wasn’t getting any discernibly responsive vibes. “You sound really tired.”

“I am. I was dozing when the phone rang. I’m already in bed.”

“Oh. Sorry. I don’t wanna keep you on the phone.”

“Don’t be silly. I always want to talk to you. I love you, Ryan.”

“I love you, too. Now cuddle up with my pillow and sleep tight.”

“I will.” Another massive yawn punctuated the promise. “Call me in the morning.”

“Okay. Love you.” Ryan clicked off and set the phone on the bedside table. She was feeling itchy and considered going for a run, but she knew that wasn’t wise. They were staying in another anonymous chain motel along an access road created solely for the motel and a number of fast-food restaurants, and she didn’t know the neighborhood.

Jackie came in and took a look at her roommate. “What’s up?”

“Nothin’. I’m bored and I wanna burn off some energy.”

“Energy?” Jackie took a look at her watch. “You’ve been up since 5:00 and we’ve gotta get up tomorrow morning at 7:00. Go to sleep like a human.”

Ryan laughed. “You know I’m not human.” She reached for the slim directory of services provided by the motel. “Does this place have a gym?”

“Nope. They have a hot tub, but it closed at 10:00.”

Tossing the book back onto the table, Ryan growled, “Why can’t we stay on campus? There’s something to do there.”

“You know the answer to that,” Jackie said as she went into the bathroom. She left the door open enough to be able to continue their conversation. “The men’s baseball team is here, the swimming teams are here, and the soccer teams are here. They’re all higher up on the food chain than we are.”

“That sucks!”

“Yeah, but only the soccer teams are on campus. Everybody else is stuck at a motel, just like us. Be glad the baseball team isn’t at this place; we’d never get to sleep.”

“If they were here, I could probably find somebody to wrestle or box,” Ryan said, only partly joking.

Jackie came out of the bathroom and tossed a hand towel at Ryan. “You’re a wild one, O. I don’t know how Jamie keeps you entertained.”

Ryan grinned evilly. “Then you need to get laid more often.”

Holding up her middle finger, Jackie pulled down the covers and sat on the edge of her bed, adjusting the air conditioner. “Mind if I turn it to ‘deep freeze’?”

“That’s fine. I like it cold.”

“You can leave the light on if you want.” Jackie put in her bright green earplugs. “You can turn the TV on, too, just don’t wake me up one second before 7:00.”

“Goodnight,” Ryan mouthed dramatically. Jackie smiled and rolled onto her side. Ryan flipped the TV on, but turned the sound off. She flipped through the channels three times before landing on a science fiction show with a muscular woman working out in a gym on some type of spaceship. Ryan didn’t care for sci fi, but she was intrigued by the woman. She was blonde, and had short hair and well-defined muscles. She didn’t look like Jamie at all, but there was something just familiar enough to make her think of her partner and how hot she looked when she was working out.

The scene changed and people started running around the spaceship, obviously trying to solve some crisis. Ryan turned off the set and got up to take off her clothes. She and Jackie were familiar enough with each other to sleep in their underwear, so she took off her jeans and her bra and put them in her bag. When she lay back down she was unable to stop thinking about Jamie, so she tried to switch her mind to another channel. She owed Ally a call. The second she thought of her, she started thinking about Ally working out. The image, though pleasing, seemed wrong, so she tried to back up. But when she changed her focus, she thought of Ally and Sarah and how incredibly hot it must look when they made love.

Perturbed with herself and frustrated, Ryan was on the verge of putting her clothes back on and walking up and down the access road until she was tired. But she knew she just needed a quick orgasm to relax, so she decided to go for it. Jackie slept like the dead and her earplugs would allow Ryan to moan with abandon, if the need arose, so there was no real chance of being discovered.

Her mind kept going back to Ally, so rather than fighting it, Ryan tried to imagine Ally and Jamie together. The thought was remarkably enticing, and she was almost able to convince herself it wasn’t wrong to think of her ex and current lovers having sex—almost, but not quite. She knew she wouldn’t have a problem with it, but she knew in her heart that Jamie wouldn’t appreciate it. And she hated to use Jamie in a fantasy that would, in any way, offend her.

Her clit had no morals, though, and it was ready to go. She slipped her hand past her waistband and smiled with satisfaction when her fingers split her lips and gathered up the moisture that just a few moments of thinking of Ally and Jamie had caused.

Then a brilliant idea hit her, and she tingled with anticipation. Why not think of Jamie—with an Ally attitude? Her clit twitched noticeably and she felt a fresh squirt of lubrication wet her fingers. “Oh, that works,” she purred quietly.

She imagined lying in bed at their home and having Jamie come out of the bathroom with lust in her eyes. Just seeing those green eyes spark with desire sent Ryan’s libido into high gear. She sank into her fantasy, blocking out the motel room and the air conditioner and the fact that she was alone. Looking at her lover in her daydream, she said, “Come to bed.”

Jamie smiled inscrutably and shook her head. “Don’t rush me. You know I’ll get to you when I decide you’re ready.”

Ryan’s heart rate picked up immediately. “What can I do to show you I’m ready?” she asked, her voice a barely audible plea.

Jamie sat on the desk chair backwards, leaning over the back so that her breasts were outlined by her tight, sleeveless T-shirt. “Hmm…what can you do?” She looked thoughtful, then said, “You can start by taking off your panties.”

In a blur, Ryan had the panties off. Now she lay on the sheet wearing just a black bra, her nipples so hard they begged to be pinched.

“Better,” Jamie said, assessing her carefully. “Roll over.” Ryan did, then shook her ass by lifting her hips off the bed.

“Did I tell you to move your ass?” Jamie asked quietly.

“No, you didn’t.” Ryan lay still, waiting for her lover’s response.

“Good. You know I like it when you’re totally honest with me. Now, tell me, why did you shake your ass like that?”

Ryan looked right into her eyes. “I want you to want it.”

Jamie’s eyebrow lifted a millimeter. “You want me to want your sweet, sexy ass?”

“Yes. I want that…badly.”

“What do you want me to do to your ass, Ryan? Do you want me to kiss it, spank it, lick it?” She paused dramatically, then looked at Ryan intently. “Or do you need me to fuck it?”

“All of that,” Ryan forced her weak voice to reply. “Most of all, I want you to fuck me. I need you, baby.”

“That’s my call,” Jamie said, not unkindly.

Ryan nodded. Her lover spoke the truth.

“How do I know when you’re ready?” Jamie asked softly.

“You know when I show you.” Ryan had been well trained. She knew Jamie would never take her word for it. She had to see indisputable evidence.

“Then why aren’t you showing me? If you really need me, I’d think you’d want to get moving.”

Clambering for position, Ryan got to her knees, her ass facing her partner. Letting her head rest on the bed, she turned so that she could just barely see Jamie’s face. She reached behind herself and used her hands to open herself as wide as possible. Every part of her was exposed to Jamie’s intent gaze. Ryan slowly rotated her hips, feeling a droplet of moisture slide down onto her hot clit—making her purr with sensation.

Jamie rolled the chair close, just close enough to be able to lean forward and breathe on Ryan’s sensitized body. “Nice,” she said in a near growl. “Very nice. Now show me how you’ll move when I’m inside you.”

Ryan resisted for just a moment, but she bit her lip and started to pump her hips slowly, moving her ass up and down, begging Jamie to take her. Suddenly, two fingers were unceremoniously slipped into her, making her gasp. Unable to stop, Ryan came—rubbing her clit so hard she winced in pain.

Coming down into reality, Ryan opened her eyes and realized her right wrist was aching. She’d had to assume a very uncomfortable position to put her fingers inside herself, and her underwear wasn’t making things any easier. She was ridiculously wet—so wet that she knew she’d have to go clean up to be able to sleep. But the afterglow was so nice, so fulfilling, that she was loath to get up.

Ryan chuckled softly, knowing that it would be years, if ever, before Jamie would want to role-play like that. And some even bigger changes would have to take place before Jamie would be interested in fucking her in the way she dreamed of. But she smiled contentedly, knowing that she didn’t have to have every need satisfied to feel completely happy with their sexual relationship. She’d loved the way Ally had fucked her, but Ally had never made her feel as fulfilled as Jamie did in the simplest ways. Five minutes of Jamie’s fingers on her clit was as satisfying as an hour of Ally’s role-playing, and she wouldn’t trade for the world. Still, she’d never tell Jamie that she dreamed of her being more dominant. There were things, many things, that she’d learned were best kept to herself, and putting Jamie into a dominant role was one of them. It might happen one day, but if it didn’t, Ryan knew it wouldn’t matter one little bit.

On Saturday night, Conor sat at a small table impishly eyeing the substantial portion of sesame encrusted seared tuna that remained on Catherine’s plate. Acting as if she hadn’t seen his hungry look, she gazed across the room while sliding the plate towards him. When his laugh reached her ears, she turned and smiled. “You could always ask for another portion.”

Cutting the small pieces of tuna into even smaller pieces, he grinned back. Keeping his voice low, he said, “It’s bad enough that I eat like a bear, you don’t want the whole room to know it.”

Catherine leaned over and whispered into his ear. “Our table companions are barely awake. You could lick the plate and they wouldn’t notice.”

He stifled a laugh and ate another piece of tuna. After chewing for a few seconds he said, “If I eat too much, I know I’ll fall asleep during the speeches. I need to be a little hungry to stay upright.”

“Not a fan of natural history?”

“I like the museum,” he said. “They used to bring us here on school trips. But hearing about how much money they need and what old bones they’re gonna buy isn’t as interesting as you’d think.”

She giggled, nudging him with her shoulder. “Behave! We only have to stay until the main speaker is finished, then I’ll take you out for ice cream.”

“How long will that be?”

Catherine glanced at her watch. “Probably another hour.”

Conor’s eyes widened and he flagged down a passing waiter. “Coffee, please. Extra-caffeine.”

While they waited for Catherine’s car to be brought around, Conor said, “Hey, let’s go back to the house. Maeve dropped off some shortcake and a quart of strawberries this morning. If we get there before Rory or Kevin, they’re ours.”

“That sounds a little risky. Maybe we should stop and buy a back-up.”

“There’s always a back-up. Kevin’s an ice cream freak and he always has five or six different flavors stored up. And Rory likes cookies, so he hoards a bag in the freezer just for emergencies.”

“I don’t think I’ve had cookies or ice cream in the house since Jamie left for school, unless the girls are visiting, of course. I learned my lesson one night when Ryan had to go out for ice cream after we’d finished dinner.”

Conor chuckled. “You can’t deny the poor girl dessert.”

“We’d had dessert. The ice cream was her after-dessert snack.”

As luck would have it, they were the first to arrive at the O’Flaherty house. Conor turned the oven on low to warm up the shortcake, and Catherine went into the dining room to set the table. “Conor?” she said, poking her head into the kitchen. “You’re missing a chair.”

“Oh.” He adopted a rather sheepish look. “I’ll tell you about that in a second. Let me clean the strawberries first.”

She watched his back for a moment, then returned to the dining room. When she’d finished setting the table, she went back to the kitchen. “No shortcake for me, just a few strawberries.”

He shook his head, but didn’t argue. After he’d made a large bowl for himself and a small dish for Catherine, he took the food into the dining room. “Coffee or tea?”

“Neither. I’m fine. Sit. Tell me about the chair.”

He’d initially hoped she’d forget, but then realized he wanted to discuss the incident with her. He looked at her for a moment, gazing into her warm brown eyes. “Da and I had a fight the other day. He was mad at me and he picked up a chair and slammed it down. Broke the back legs.”

“Goodness! I can’t imagine how strong you’d have to be…” She trailed off, clearly at a loss for words.

“Yeah, he’s strong, and he gets stronger when he’s mad. Good thing he takes out his anger on furniture.”

She looked very tentative, but asked, “Do you want to talk about the argument?”

“Yeah, I’d better, because you’re involved.”

She blanched. “Me?”

“Yeah, but not in a bad way. He saw the shoes you bought me. By the way, they feel like leather socks.” His smile showed the immense pleasure his new shoes brought him. “He asked if I’d bought new shoes and I said you’d gotten them for me. That led to a long lecture about how wrong it is to accept anything from anybody, ever.” He smiled sardonically.

Catherine looked suspicious. “And that led him to break a chair?”

“No, it was more than that. He asked what else you’d bought me and I told him.”

Making a face, Catherine said, “That was probably a little much for him.”

“A whole lot too much for him. He thinks I’m…” He spent a moment deciding how much to tell. “Using you. That I’m going to things with you so that you’ll buy me stuff.”

“That’s not true!” she said indignantly. Then a wave of doubt crossed her face. “Is it?”

“Hell, no. I told him I liked hanging out with you, but…he didn’t buy it.” Realizing how that sounded, he added, “He believes you’re fun to hang out with, but he doesn’t believe I’d go to museums and lectures just to hang out. He thinks you’re renting me by the hour.”

“I’m amazed at that!” She dropped her gaze and spooned a strawberry into her mouth, chewing daintily. Clinking the spoon on the edge of the glass bowl, she said, “I might not be able to read you well, but you certainly seem to be having fun.”

“I am. I’ve told you this is like seeing a whole new world. I don’t think I’d wanna live there, but it’s fun to visit. Especially with you.” He smiled at her and she responded with a bright one of her own.

“Should I talk to him? I hate to think he’s suspicious of your motives. You’ve been a tremendous help to me, Conor, and I want your father to know that.”

“Nah.” He waved her off, shaking his head. “He’d be mad that I told you about the fight. He probably didn’t even tell Maeve. He’s not mad at me anymore, but I thought I should tell you just to warn you not to buy me any more clothes. I don’t want him to break my legs.”

“Oh, Conor, I’m sorry this happened. I really would like to tell him how you’ve cheered me up and taken my mind off things. It’s just not right that he thinks you’re taking advantage of me. Nothing could be further from the truth.”

He was gazing at her mouth, watching the way her lips moved—exposing and hiding her perfect teeth—when he realized she was looking at him and probably waiting for a reply to something he hadn’t heard. “Uhm, this is really nothing to worry about. Da gets his back up about things, but then he forgets all about it. I promise this will go away.”

Catherine looked at her bowl, nudging a berry with her spoon. She looked at Conor slyly and said, “Would your father notice if I snuck two more shirts into your closet? I had them monogrammed, so I can’t take them back.”

“Monogrammed?” he asked, looking like a child waiting to open his birthday present. “I think he was too overwhelmed by what he saw to get an exact count.”

“They’re in my trunk,” she said, giggling when Conor ran for the front door, Duffy barking and following him as if they were running to a fire.

After he’d enthusiastically praised her and her tailor, Conor walked Catherine to her car. When they got there, she said, “You’re going to get a little vacation from boring dinners. I’m going to Italy for a few days.”

His eyes narrowed and he tried to keep the irritation from his voice. “Really? When?”

“After the graduation convocation. I’ll never understand why Cal has the big celebration before finals even start, but that’s how they do it. I thought I’d go right after that’s over and be back by the time the girls have their departmental graduations.”

“Where in Italy are you going?” He tried to sound casual, but was fairly certain that he didn’t.

“Milan.” She cocked her head and made a face. “Yes, Conor, I’m going to see Giacomo. Jamie’s already expressed her displeasure, so don’t feel that you have to lecture me.”

“I’d never do that. You just sounded kinda…undecided the last time we talked about it.”

“I am. Sometimes. Other times I know this is right for me.” She rested her hand lightly on his forearm. “So, I want to go spend a few days with him and be more honest about my feelings and my needs. I need to make some decisions.”

“Then you should go. I’ll have my shoes shined for when you come home.”

“You’re a dear,” she said. Rising to her tiptoes, she was still nowhere near his cheek. He bent down to her and when she pressed her lips against him, he felt a current chase down his spine. He knew his face was turning pink when she took her thumb and gently rubbed the lipstick from the spot. “Don’t want to give your father any more ammunition,” she said. “Buying you clothes is one thing, he’d have me in jail if he thought I was getting fresh!”

Smiling vacantly, Conor watched Catherine get into the car. He stood there until her taillights were dim red dots, thinking about how wonderful she smelled and how soft her lips were.

“Jamie?”

“Hi, Mom. What’s up?”

“I’m at my house in the city. How would you like to come over for tea?”

“For tea? That’s kinda cool. But Ryan’s away this weekend.”

“I know. I wanted to talk to you about something alone.”

“Oooo-kay. Is everything all right?”

“Yes. Everything’s fine. Can you come?”

“Sure. How about 3:30.”

“Marvelous. We’ll be waiting.”

Jamie hung up, wondering with a quickening heart who “we” was.

Jamie had just gotten back into study-mode when her cell phone rang. Looking at the name in the display she opened the phone and said, “Hi, Daddy.”

“Hi, cupcake. How’s my favorite girl?”

A mental picture of Kayla popped into her head, but Jamie forced herself to ignore it. “I’m good. I’m trying to get some work done. Tomorrow is our last day of class, then it’s finals.”

“Ooo, I recall those days. I don’t miss them, but I recall them. How are things going? Are you prepared?”

“I’m fine, I think. I miss my nice English classes, though. As soon as these exams are over, I’m gonna start reading real books again. I can’t wait.”

“You and Ryan can spend the summer reading,” Jim said, chuckling.

Jamie paused for a minute, then said, “I’m not sure she reads for pleasure. Damn! I should know something like that, shouldn’t I?”

“Well, yes. I’d think you would have noticed.”

“Things are different when you’re in school; hardly anybody has time to read for fun. But all of the books she has at home are textbooks and math and science books.”

“That’s a big clue. You could start a lending library with all of the books you’ve still got in Hillsborough.”

“Weird. It’s hard to imagine I’m partnered with someone who doesn’t read for fun.”

“It could be worse,” Jim said, laughing. “At least you know she can read.”

“Oh, she can read. She reads journals and things and I can’t even tell what topic they cover. She’s just got a very different brain than I do.”

“Differences make life interesting. Maybe you can get her hooked on reading fiction.”

“Well, the chances of that are better than my reading her stuff.”

“Are you two ready for the big convocation?”

“Yeah. We don’t have to do much—just put on our caps and gowns and show up.”

“Is Mia going to be there?”

“Yeah. She’s coming in on Tuesday. Her parents paid for her to come, so things are a little better in that arena.”

“Great. I knew Adam wouldn’t let that estrangement drag on too long.”

“But Jordan can’t come and we’re all down about that.”

“Why can’t she come?”

“Oh, she has practice that day. I’d think she could miss one day, but there’s no way she can get here and get home in the same day. Flying into Colorado Springs isn’t easy.”

“That’s a shame. I assume she’s not graduating.”

“No. She’s gonna finish up after the Olympics. But I’m sure she’s really upset about not being here for Mia.”

“I suppose the USOC doesn’t have money for special travel.”

“I don’t get the impression that the USOC hands out money like that. And besides, if it was only about money, I’d pay for her to come. But I’d have to hire a private jet and she’d never get over that. She’s as self-reliant as Ryan is.”

“Where did you find all of these friends who don’t want your money? That’s not normal.”

“Funny, isn’t it? Ryan and I still have fights about money, and they’re always about her not wanting me to spend it.”

“I know you’re thinking it, but you don’t have to tell me that I had her pegged wrong,” Jim said. “She’s a good woman.”

“She sure is. But she’s away this weekend, and I miss her.”

“Oh. She’s on a road trip?”

“Uh-huh. They’re doing really well, Daddy. They’ve been ranked in the top ten for the last month. They’ll make the NCAAs for sure.”

“Good for her! I’ll bet that’s got her jazzed.”

“Not too much. She doesn’t like to assume anything. She’s pretty laid back about things like that until they happen.”

“Well, I’m happy for her. She’s a hard worker.”

“That’s an understatement. So, when are you going to be here?”

“I’m not sure. I have a couple of things I could do on the way. I might not arrive until Wednesday. Is that all right?”

“Sure. The ceremony’s at 4:00.”

“Oh. I guess I didn’t mention this, but they asked me to sit on the dais.”

“They did?”

“Yes. But I turned them down. I don’t want this to be about me; this is your day, baby.”

“Daddy, you can get a little press if you want to. I don’t mind.”

“No thanks. If there’s an Evans in the newspaper, I want it to be you.”

“I don’t think I’m going to win any prizes, Dad, but thanks for thinking of me. I really appreciate it.”

“I love you, sweetheart. And I’m proud of you. You win the prize for the best daughter.”

“Thanks,” she said quietly. “I’ll see you on Wednesday. We’re gonna have a little party at Mom’s house in the city. You’ll come, won’t you?”

“Sure. If I’m invited. I’d like to see her place.”

“I know you’ll be welcome, Dad. Mom’s very cool about you. Will Kayla be with you?”

“No, she’s gonna hold down the fort here.”

“Everything okay with her?”

“Oh, sure. She’s starting to look for a new job—but we’re okay.”

“New job?”

“Yes. She’s decided to stay in Washington when I return home. I’m helping her to find something that she’ll like.”

“Wow.” Jamie was quiet for a moment. “Are you okay with that?”

“No,” he said, laughing bitterly. “But she’s very good at taking care of herself, and this is what she thinks would be best for her career.”

“Ouch.”

“Yes. Ouch, it is. But I can’t expect more, Jamie. She knows me too well to expect much from me.”

“Oh, come on. You say that like you’re a bad guy.”

“I am. Where women are concerned, I am.”

At 3:30, Marta answered the door to Catherine’s home, bowing deeply when Jamie entered. “Welcome, madam,” Marta said, almost hiding her grin.

Jamie waited for her to straighten up, then hugged her tightly. “I’ve missed you,” she said, kissing Marta’s cheeks.

“And I’ve missed you. Come in and sit down. We’re almost ready.”

“We?” Jamie asked with trepidation.

“Yes. Your mother and I. We’ve been making tea sandwiches.”

“Both of you?”

“Yes, yes,” Marta said excitedly. “Your mother is quite the sandwich maker.”

Jamie followed her into the large kitchen, finding her mother fastidiously cutting the crusts off some thin-sliced white bread. “This is harder than it looks,” Catherine said, looking up and blowing a few strands of hair from her forehead.

“Are you two starting a catering business?” Jamie asked, going to her mother to kiss her cheek.

“No, but that’s not a bad idea. What do you say, Marta?”

“I’d love to be paid for actually cooking,” Marta said, frowning at Catherine. “I feel like I’m stealing money every month.”

“Don’t be silly,” Catherine said. “You’re worth three times what I pay you.”

Jamie smiled at the interchange. It was a long-running battle. Marta felt she was overpaid for the little work she did, but Catherine viewed her as much more than a cook. She knew that her mother had set up an annuity for Marta’s retirement, mostly to get around arguing about her salary, and she had a feeling that Marta would flip when she learned about it.

Jamie sat at the counter and helped prepare the rather elaborate toast points with crème fraîche and smoked salmon, then worked on the blini with golden caviar. They had enough for four, but Marta set out only two cups and plates in the living room. Once she’d presented the food on a silver tray, she disappeared, leaving Jamie to wait patiently while her mother poured the smoky black tea into her cup.

She added a little milk and sipped the tea, watching her mother over the top of the delicate china cup. She could tell that her mother was a little nervous, but she wasn’t sure what was coming, so she couldn’t reassure her.

After a few moments of polite silence Catherine said, “I’ve made some mistakes in the last few weeks, dear, and I’d like to clear things up.”

“Mistakes?”

“Yes. I was quite unyielding when I said I wouldn’t talk about Giacomo, and that was unfair of me.”

Jamie sat back in her chair. “I wouldn’t say unfair…”

“Whatever you wish to call it, it wasn’t fair of me to tell you everything about my life and then refuse to talk about Giacomo. That was—well, it wasn’t right. And I’m sorry.”

Smiling warmly, Jamie nodded. “That’s fine, Mom. I haven’t been very mature about the whole thing. And Ryan’s been all too willing to agree with me on that point.” She narrowed her eyes. “Traitor.”

“Ryan only wants what’s best for you, and you know it.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s not a traitor,” Jamie said, smiling slowly as her frown disappeared. “She’s supposed to take my side, no matter how stupid I’m being.”

“You’re never stupid, Jamie. Never.”

“Sure I am. Everyone does stupid things. I am still the child in this relationship, as Ryan always reminds me.”

“Factually true, but that’s not how we’ve always run things. So, if you think this will help, I’d like to change the rules a little bit.”

“Okay. What would you like to change?”

“For one thing, I’d like to be more open about my relationship with Giacomo.”

Jamie stared at her mother, wide-eyed. “All right.”

“But, and this is a big caveat, I only want to do that if you can withhold your disapproval.”

“My disapproval of…what?”

“Of my seeing him. I know you don’t think it’s a good idea, and that’s fine. I know how you feel, and it’s registered. But what I do is my decision.”

The frown returned. “So, you’ll talk about your life so long as I don’t tell you how I feel about it.”

“That sounds a little harsh, but I suppose it’s correct. I’m asking you to do what I did when you started to date Ryan.”

Jamie’s mouth dropped open. “You’re equating Ryan and Giacomo?”

Catherine nodded. “Yes, I am, and this is exactly the kind of reaction I don’t want to hear. I didn’t think you should break off an engagement and jump right back into a life commitment with a woman.”

“But you didn’t tell me that!”

“I know, dear. It wasn’t my place. I thought you should have taken the whole thing much more slowly and decided if lesbianism was truly right for you. You know that I love Ryan and that I support your partnership, but at the time I thought it was a rash decision.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“No one, not even a parent, can talk someone out of being in love. All that can do is cause bad feelings. So I’m asking you to honor my feelings for Giacomo and defer sharing your thoughts with me until I’m ready to hear them.”

Taking a sip of tea, Jamie let the heady brew linger in her mouth for a moment. “Do I have to act like I approve?”

Catherine looked at her daughter for a bit, her eyes roaming around Jamie’s delicate features. “How do you treat your father and Kayla? Do you talk to him about dating a woman just a few years older than you are? A woman who was just out of school when he, the managing partner of the firm, took up with her? Do you give him your opinion of the power imbalance implicit in a relationship like that?”

Pursing her lips, Jamie let her head drop. Her cheeks turned pink—first in anger, then embarrassment. “No, I don’t. I suppose I figure he’s always going to have some arm candy. Kayla seems like she’s able to stand up for herself pretty well. She’s mature for her age.”

“But you think I’m, what, salvageable?”

“Damn it, Mom, don’t make me sound like a Puritan. I just want what’s best for you. I want you to have a relationship with someone from whom you can get all that you need.”

“That’s my job, Jamie. Only I know what I need. Only I know what I’m willing to settle for.”

“I know, I know!”

“I’m not sure you do, honey. I deeply appreciate your love and your concern, but I can’t be lectured. My father lectured me and withheld his approval; my mother did the same thing. Your father…well, you know I don’t like to talk about our relationship in detail, but I think it’s fairly clear who controlled it.”

“Yes, it is,” Jamie said quietly.

“I need to make my own way, my own mistakes. I can’t…I won’t have another person I love and want to please make me feel guilty for doing something he or she doesn’t approve of. So I’m willing to tell you where I go and what I do, but I truly need for you to dispense with expressing your disapproval. If you can’t do that, then I need to keep that part of my life to myself.”

“What kind of things do you want to share?” Jamie asked, trying to keep her expression as neutral as possible.

“I’m going to visit Giacomo for a bit between your convocation and your graduation. We can leave it at that if you want, or I can tell you about my trip.”

Jamie nodded. She drank a bit more tea, then said, “I’d like to know. I want to know what’s important to you, Mom, and if it’s Giacomo…that’s fine.”

Catherine smiled. “Let’s take it slowly. I’ll tell you where I’m going and you can ask me anything you want to know, but it’s probably best if we keep it topical.”

“Like where you go…how much art you buy…that kind of thing?”

“Yes. All of that sort of thing. I just don’t think it’s wise to get into anything too intimate.”

Jamie laughed softly. “Mom, I don’t think I’ll ever ask anything that could even vaguely be considered intimate.”

With a scolding glance, Catherine said, “I’m not talking about sex, I’m talking about feelings. I won’t use you as a confidant about the process I’m going through in deciding to be with him, and it would be best if you don’t ask me questions about my choices.”

“Got it,” Jamie said. “I’ll do my best. But I might make a few mistakes while I get used to this.”

“I’ll be patient. I just ask that you be the same with me.”

Putting her cup on the butler’s table, Jamie moved to kneel down next to her mother. She hugged her and murmured into her ear, “I just want you to be happy, Mom. I swear that’s all I want.”

“I want the same for you, dear. As long as we remember that, we’ll be fine.”

“So, when do you leave?”

“I’m going to take the red eye on the night of your convocation. I’ll be gone about nine days. I’ll be home on Thursday so I can make sure to be back for your actual graduation.”

Jamie’s color rose and her voice turned soft. “Uhm, that’s Ryan’s graduation. Mine’s Monday.”

Catherine’s eyes grew wide. “Monday after Ryan’s?”

Shaking her head, Jamie said, “Monday before hers.”

Her eyes closed, and Catherine’s head tilted back. “You can’t be serious.”

“’Fraid I am. Five days after the convocation.”

Catherine blew out a long, weary breath. “I’ll cancel my trip. I won’t even get there until Friday morning. It hardly seems worth it to go for the weekend.”

“You could go the next weekend.”

Frowning, Catherine said, “No, I don’t think so. It took a certain amount of planning for Giacomo to arrange things. He’s leaving for a buying trip to Spain on the day I leave…or was planning on leaving.” Pasting on a determined smile, she said, “It’s no matter. We’ll arrange another trip. June might work out…but we have the breast cancer walk.” She looked thoughtful, obviously going through her calendar.

“Maybe July?”

“No, no, I think we’ll be too busy planning your ceremony. I don’t think I can spare a week.” She briskly shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll work something out.”

Jamie tentatively took her mother’s hand, causing Catherine to look at her with a look of curious surprise. “This trip means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”

“I…I’d rather not talk about that, Jamie. We’ve just decided we’d stay topical, remember?”

Jamie’s gaze was intent and open. She looked at her mother with an expression of empathy and concern. “Yeah, I remember. But you look very disappointed, and I don’t like to see that.”

“You’re sweet,” Catherine said, squeezing her hand. “But plans are made to be broken.”

“Not if they mean a lot to you.” Catherine started to look away, but Jamie pressed her hand firmly. “It means more to me to have you at convocation than my graduation. Convocation is a bigger celebration, and I’ll be with Ryan and Mia. My graduation is just another speech. It’s fine with me if you miss it.”

“No, no, I wouldn’t even consider that,” Catherine said, her head shaking quickly.

“You’re not considering it, I’m suggesting it.” She fixed her mother once again with her gaze. “I’m being sincere, Mom. I’d be disappointed if you missed both ceremonies, but convocation means more to me. It’s gonna be fun to have a huge procession and be with my girls. The English department graduation is just not that big a deal.”

Catherine looked at her daughter, blinking slowly. “This is hard for me,” she admitted. “I’m not sure if you’re telling me this because it’s true or you’re being generous.”

Smiling, Jamie said, “Maybe both. But I promise that I won’t be angry with you if you miss it. I promise.” She took her mother’s hand and held it over her own heart. “Really.”

“All right.” Catherine paused, then said, “I’m sure I could arrange for Giacomo to come here for a week. Which would you rather—having me miss your graduation, or having Giacomo attending it?”

It was obvious that Jamie was trying not to show her feelings. Her expression was carefully crafted into a blank palette. “There must be a reason you decided to go to Italy, Mom. You probably already have plans.”

“We might, but I’m not sure what they are,” Catherine said. “Giacomo is in charge.”

“Then go ahead and go. He’s probably got some things planned. Besides, it’s a lot of trouble to change your arrangements at this late date. It would cost a fortune to change your reservations now.”

Catherine smiled, tempted to remind Jamie that she always flew unrestricted first class, a category that allowed for last minute changes, but she realized her daughter was trying to be tactful, so she let it pass. “Fine. I’ll go ahead with my plans. I’m sure Giacomo will appreciate your graciousness.” She patted Jamie’s cheek. “I know I do.”

As usual, Ryan and Jackie settled into the emergency exit row on the airplane. Since Ryan was by far the tallest player on the team, the student travel coordinator always assigned her to that row so she could have a little extra leg room. The plane was fairly full, and before they took off Ryan took out her Discman and loaded a relaxation CD she’d borrowed from Jamie. Jamie referred to it as New Age, but it made Ryan fall asleep, so she considered it a relaxation aid.

Jackie frowned at her. “Aren’t you gonna talk to me?”

“Can’t,” Ryan said, putting on her headphones. “I’ve gotta get some sleep.”

“Finals?”

“Yeah.” Ryan smiled a little. “I’ve gotta study when I get home.” I’ve gotta study a certain woman’s body—in depth.

“Then I’m moving. I wanna play cards.”

Ryan put on a fake pout. “You mean I’ve gotta have this whole row to myself so I can put my feet up and get comfortable?”

Jackie gave her an elbow to the ribs. “You’ll miss me when I’m gone.”

“Only one way to prove that,” Ryan teased. She flicked her hands. “Go. Go.”

As she often did, Ryan prevailed upon the Cal bus driver to drop her off at her street as he made his way to the campus. She had a few blocks to walk, but she preferred that to having Jamie drive over to pick her up. To her great surprise, Jamie was standing on the corner waving when the bus pulled over.

Jackie opened her window and called out, “Is this what they mean by crazy in love?”

Jamie stuck out her tongue and said, “Yes. Don’t be jealous.” Ryan got off the bus and dashed over to her partner, lifting her off her feet. She turned in a circle, making Jamie throw her head back and laugh.

“Kiss her! Kiss her!” several players yelled.

Obliging them, Ryan stopped spinning and puckered up, waiting for Jamie to drop her head and kiss her. It only took a second, and as soon as their lips met the players made all sorts of catcalls and whoops. Ryan could just hear Coach Roberts shout, “For crying out loud, O’Flaherty! Have a little decency!”

Ryan laughed, putting Jamie back onto her feet. “Would you rather I carry you?” she asked, picking up her bag.

“No, I like to hold your hand.” Jamie took Ryan’s warm hand and held it to her heart. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too. This is the first time in a while we’ve been apart. I don’t like it.”

“It sucks,” Jamie agreed. “But I got a lot done. And I’m sure I was more comfortable at home than I would have been sitting on a bed in a motel all weekend.”

“Did you do anything fun today?”

“Yeah. I went over to see my Mom for a while.”

Ryan turned to be able to see her face. “How’d that go?”

“Good. She wanted to set some new ground rules.”

“About?”

“About how she talks to me about her boyfriend.”

Ryan was certain Jamie could have made those words sound more sarcastic, but it would have been a stretch. “You sound much more accepting, so it obviously worked,” she deadpanned.

Jamie shot her a look. “I don’t like him, Ryan; I’m never going to like him. But I want to have a good relationship with my mother.”

“All you can do is have an open mind.”

Jamie looked at her and saw that Ryan’s face was nearly expressionless. “If you’re trying to be funny, it’s not working.”

Ryan grasped her hand a little firmer. “I’m not trying to be funny. But I am pointing out that you’re not giving her a lot of room.”

“This guy is wrong for her,” Jamie said slowly. “You don’t wanna admit that, but you know it’s true.”

Dropping Jamie’s hand, Ryan switched her heavy bag onto her other shoulder. “Don’t put thoughts in my head. I said I didn’t care for him much when we met, but I have no idea if he’s right or wrong for her.”

Glaring at her, Jamie said, “So, a married man with small kids who lives on another continent is the guy you’d pick for my mother?”

“No. I’d pick my father for her.”

Jamie squealed. “What?!?”

Chuckling, Ryan said, “If I could pick your mother’s husband, I’d pick my father. He’s the best man I know. He’d treat her very well and he’d appreciate every single thing about her.”

“That’s crazy! He’d hate to go to all of her social things, and he’d never want to travel like she does.”

“Jamie,” Ryan said softly, “you didn’t ask me to pick someone she’d want. I just said that if I had to pick, I’d pick my father. He’s the kind of guy I’d like to see her with. But they wouldn’t make each other happy. She needs someone she clicks with, and I can’t possibly know who that would be.”

“Oh. So that was just one of your little parables. Thanks, Jesus.”

Ryan grasped her shoulder as Jamie was about to storm away. “Besides being intentionally snotty, that wasn’t fair. I wasn’t lecturing you, I was just explaining that I can’t know what your mom wants in a man. I rather doubt she’d pick me for you, but she sure didn’t give you a very hard time about being with me.”

“Fine.” Putting on a serious pout, Jamie walked alongside Ryan, scuffing her heels against the pavement as she always did when she was angry.

“I think we’d better make some new ground rules, too,” Ryan said after a few moments. “I don’t wanna argue about this.”

“Then be on my side!”

Ryan looked at her for a second, then said, “You’re right.”

“I am?” Jamie looked surprised. “About what?”

“I shouldn’t try to make you see things the way I do. She’s your mom and you’re upset with her. So feel free to tell me why you’re upset. I’ll do my best to listen and keep my trap shut.”

“That won’t work,” Jamie groused. “I’ll know you’re just humoring me.”

“No, I won’t be. There are two elements here.” She ticked them off with her fingers. “One is whether I think you should be upset, and the other is the fact that you are. I’ve been stuck on the fact that I don’t think you should be up in your mother’s face about this, but that’s really none of my business.” She stopped and put her arms around Jamie, hugging her tightly. “You’re my business; your feelings are my business.” She kissed her tenderly, murmuring, “I’m sorry I haven’t been more supportive.”

Jamie looked up at her, smiling brightly. “Thanks. I feel better.” She rested her head against Ryan’s chest. “I’m sorry for being snotty. I hate when I do that.”

“It’s okay. But you did hurt my feelings. I don’t like to hear that you think I’m a blowhard.”

Jamie pulled away and looked up at her partner. There was a certain wariness in Ryan’s eyes that made her wince. “I’m sorry, baby. Really, I am. I don’t think you’re a blowhard at all. It’s just that sometimes my mouth starts going and I can hardly stop it.”

Ryan was looking down, studying Jamie’s eyes. “I know. But sometimes you go out of your way to hurt me. That leaves a mark.”

Closing her eyes to avoid Ryan’s laser-like scrutiny, Jamie leaned into her partner, hugging her tightly. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.”

Patting her back, Ryan placed a soft kiss on her head. “Okay. Let’s drop it. Wanna tell me what happened today?”

“No.” Jamie took her hand for the last part of their walk. “Let’s quit while we’re ahead.”

“Deal. Besides, we’ve got a lot to do.”

“We do? It’s eleven o’clock.”

“I know,” Ryan said seriously. “I’ve gotta take a quick shower, then I’m gonna strip every inch of clothing off of you and make love to you well enough to make up for being gone three days. That’s gonna take hours.”

Beaming at her, Jamie took off. “Race ya!”

They were still laughing when they reached the house. Jamie hit the stairs first, being unencumbered by a big duffle bag. She threw the door open, not having bothered to lock it. Ryan was about to chide her for her negligence, but she didn’t want to go over the same old thing right at the moment. Jamie wasn’t prudent enough about safety for her comfort, but she’d lectured her dozens of times to no effect. Besides, Jamie was already upstairs, probably getting ready for bed. So she put her bag down and double-locked the door, then paused to look at the mail.

There were a few interesting things in her pile and the communal pile, and she opened a letter from the dean of the biology program at Stanford, smiling in satisfaction at the deferential tone of the note. She’d been receiving calls and letters from most of the major universities for almost two years, and usually didn’t bother to read them. Things had settled down when most seniors had made up their minds about graduate school, but they had apparently figured out that she was still uncommitted and they were giving it another shot.

She heard Jamie coming down the stairs and said, “I should start going to visit some schools now that I’ve got free time. It might be nice to—”

A set of teeth sank into her neck, making her wince. Then a hand slipped around her body and cupped her sex, holding her firmly. Instinctively, Ryan pushed her ass against Jamie, finding that her butt fit right into the apex of her partner’s pelvis and thighs. It was clear that Jamie was standing on a step, since they would never have fit together in quite that way if she were on the ground.

Another hand palmed Ryan’s breast, then started to squeeze—while the teeth raked across her flesh. She pushed hard against Jamie, rotating her hips sexily while she covered her partner’s hands with her own and pressed—urging Jamie to handle her even more roughly. Ryan started to pant, Jamie’s dominance making her head spin. But after a few minutes of grappling, Jamie turned her around and started kissing her gently and lovingly. She seemed less sure of herself and the passion was starting to ebb, so Ryan bent her knees and tossed Jamie over her shoulder. As she struggled to carry her weight up the stairs she ran her free hand over Jamie’s legs and ass.

“I’m gonna have you begging for mercy in minutes. Or seconds.” A sharp slap to Jamie’s ass had her pressing her pelvis into Ryan’s shoulder. “I’m gonna put you on your back and do whatever I want with you.” Another pat to the ass was met with a soft groan. “And I wanna do lots and lots of things to you, things you’re gonna love.”

“I love everything you do to me,” Jamie said, her voice muffled because of her position.

“I’m gonna bury my face between your legs and lick you and suck you until you can’t stand it. Tonight we’re finally gonna figure out how many times you can come before you pass out from exhaustion.”

“Promise?” Jamie asked, her voice bright with enthusiasm.

“Promise.” Ryan slapped her ass one more time for her own pleasure, smiling when Jamie once again pressed into her while whimpering softly. Perfect. Just perfect.

PART FIVE

RYAN WAS FINISHED with her final college class by 11:00 a.m. She walked home, heavy-hearted, reflecting on how quickly time at Cal had gone, and how long it seemed since she’d started college at USF.

Jamie was just leaving the house when Ryan came walking down the street. “Hey,” Ryan called out, her greeting devoid of its usual cheer.

Jamie turned and waved. “Are you finished?”

“Yep.” Ryan’s eyes were a little dull and her smile was wan.

“I’ve gotta run to get to my last class. Wanna do something fun afterwards?”

The blue eyes brightened a bit. “Sure. What do you wanna do?”

“Something athletic.” She patted her belly. “I’ve gotta get rid of my paunch.”

“No comment.” Her smile precluded any offense Jamie might take. “But I’ll think of something and meet you after your class.”

“Really? I could come home.”

“Nah. There’s more to choose from on campus.”

“Okay. I leave it in your capable hands.”

She stood on her tiptoes and puckered up, and Ryan dropped a kiss onto her waiting lips.

“See you in about an hour and a half.”

“Okay, sweetie. Remember,” she said, waving her splint while she backed away, “I’m injured.”

“I’ve been hit by that thing often enough to know it’s there, Jamers. I’ve got the bruises to prove it.”

Ryan put her things away and sat down at her desk to study for an hour. But she had a very difficult time staying on track. Finally giving up, she collected some things in a large gym bag and left for campus. The day was fairly gray, and it looked like the fog would roll in early. The gloom didn’t help Ryan’s mood, but the dim day wasn’t what had her down.

She’d been reminiscing all morning, thinking of the first time she’d been on campus, the soccer games she and Sara had attended when they were still in high school, the way she and Sara had painted Oski, the Cal mascot on each other’s cheeks when they’d watch a Cal football game. She couldn’t ever recall wanting to go to another school. It had, in an odd way, seemed like her destiny. And to have that destiny delayed, and nearly denied, still hurt. It hurt more than she liked to admit, and she had a feeling it would always smart a little.

USF had been a fine school, and she’d enjoyed her years there. She’d made friends and played sports and started to feel like a kid again. But she never felt like she really fit in. She’d always felt like she should have been at Cal—that she wasn’t getting the college experience she’d dreamed of.

Ryan wasn’t sure why she’d finally decided to transfer. It was partly because she knew Sara would be gone and she’d never have to see her on campus. But Sara had graduated after Ryan’s freshman year at USF, and she hadn’t even been tempted to transfer then.

Maybe it had been fate. Or luck. Or her mother’s guiding spirit. But she’d come to Cal at exactly the right time. She was sure of that. Even though she hadn’t known it at the time, she had been ready to fall in love. She was just waiting for the right woman.

Ryan started to walk a little quicker, a definite spring in her step. She’d found the right woman. There wasn’t a hint of doubt in her mind. And even though she hated to leave Cal after having spent only two years there, she couldn’t have asked for a better two years. Meeting and becoming friends with Jamie was a huge gift. But to fall so deeply in love with her was a prize beyond measure. And the mere thought of seeing her made her want to skip all the way to campus. I don’t know what kind of spell you’ve put on me, Jamie Evans, but I hope it’s never broken.

Jamie walked out of her class and caught sight of Ryan. Playfully, she took her textbook and launched it as high into the air as she could. Ryan watched its flight path as it passed over her head and crashed to the ground a few feet behind her. The binding cracked sharply as it landed. Chuckling, Ryan picked it up and stuffed the pages back into the binding as well as she could. “You busted it pretty bad,” she said as Jamie approached.

“Who cares? It felt great to throw it. As soon as my final’s over, I’m gonna burn it…page by page.”

“Tsk, tsk. Such a wasteful girl. I never make a mark in mine so I get full value when I turn them in at the end of the term. I hope our kids take after me.”

“Let’s go home and practice having babies,” Jamie said, leaning heavily against Ryan and looking up at her longingly.

“I thought you wanted to exercise.”

“Making love burns lots of calories, when you want it to. I could straddle you and grind against you while you do push-ups.”

Ryan laughed and wrapped her arms around her partner. “That would give me a workout, but it wouldn’t do much for you. But if you wanna skip working out, that’s your choice.”

“Mmm…” Jamie looked at the big nylon bag Ryan had with her. “Whatcha got?”

Ryan unzipped the bag a little. “Rollerblades. I got permission for us to use the track at the football stadium.”

“You did? Isn’t that kind of a big deal?”

Ryan lifted her chin and strove to look imperial. “I’m a three sport letter earner; they’d let me rappel off the campanile if I asked.”

Jamie grinned up at her partner. “Ooo, I’m so lucky to be with such an important woman.”

“Damn straight. Now, do you want to go home or go work?”

“Both,” Jamie decided. “Work first, then go home.”

“That’s my girl. Hard work is always the right choice.”

Ryan led Jamie to the service entrance into the stadium. She called out through the chain link fence, “Anybody home?”

A man emerged from a small office and looked at her questioningly.

“Somebody from the athletic director’s office said she’d call over here to authorize my using the track. Ryan O’Flaherty.”

“Oh, yeah.” He walked over and opened a side door. “How long you gonna be?”

“Maybe an hour. Is that okay?”

“Sure. I’m here all day.” He squinted a bit, his head cocked. “Don’t I know you from TV?”

“Yeah,” Ryan said, smiling. “I do the weather on Channel 7.”

The man’s face scrunched up and he looked even more confused. “Really?”

“Chance of fog in the A.M., should burn off by noon.” She gave him a very photogenic smile, then took Jamie’s hand and led her to one of the tunnels that opened to the field.

Jamie bumped shoulders with Ryan. “Why’d you do that?”

“No reason,” Ryan said, still smiling. “I get tired of telling people why they’ve seen me on TV, so I’ve started making stuff up. It’s fun.”

She looked pleased with herself, and it took Jamie a moment to realize that Ryan was happy because she was doing something to take care of herself. It was still too painful for her to talk about the carjacking, and making up a harmless lie was giving her a little enjoyment from a situation that could have been upsetting. She wrapped her arm tightly around Ryan. “I love you,” she said, smiling up at her.

“I love you too. Now let’s get moving while the sun’s out. I’ve called for fog to roll in late this afternoon.”

Jamie slapped Ryan on the butt and followed her to the track. They sat on a bench in the infield and Jamie waited patiently while Ryan knelt and helped her put on her skates. “I haven’t used these in months,” Jamie said. “I was just thinking that it was a waste of money to buy ’em.”

Ryan looked up at her. “Sports equipment is never a waste of money.” She put Jamie’s wheels on the ground. “How’s that?”

“Feels fine. Help me stand up and get comfortable, okay?”

“Sure.” Ryan stood in front of her, blocking the skates from moving. She helped her up and waited a moment while Jamie stood tall, moving her weight from side to side.

“They’re fine. I’ll just sit down while you put yours on.” She did, watching Ryan swiftly get her skates properly adjusted.

Ryan got up and held out her hands. “Let’s go.”

With a nervous smile, Jamie took hold of them and hesitantly stood. “I’m a little worried about falling again.”

“Makes sense. We’ll go around the track a few times together. Just hold my hand; I promise I can catch you if you start to fall.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay.” Jamie gripped Ryan’s hand ferociously. “Don’t let go. Promise.”

“Honey, I promise you won’t fall. Now don’t think about falling, think about moving.” Ryan started slowly, taking very small strides and dragging Jamie along with her.

“This is—okay,” Jamie said tentatively. “But I wasn’t even very good on ’em when my arm wasn’t broken.”

“Sure you were. You’ve got great balance, great legs, and a great ass. You could be a really good blader if you wanted to work on it.”

Smiling at the compliment, Jamie looked up at her. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. You’ve got a perfect body for blading: compact, low center of gravity. And you have great glutes.”

“Used to,” Jamie said, pouting.

“Your glutes are perfect, now let’s start using them.” She started skating a little faster, and Jamie started pushing out a little more with her legs. They were moving fairly quickly when Ryan said, “Now bend your knees a little bit.” Jamie watched and imitated Ryan, who was flexing her knees quite a bit. “How do you feel? You look good.”

“Thanks,” Jamie said. “I feel good. I think I’m stable if you wanna let go.”

“Only if you’re sure.”

“I am.” Ryan dropped Jamie’s hand but stayed right next to her. They skated around the big oval three times, and Jamie was panting by the time they returned to their starting spot. “Let me rest for a minute, okay?”

“Sure.” Ryan helped her sit down, but it was clear she wasn’t tired. “Mind if I keep going?”

“Like I could stop you,” Jamie said, smirking at her lover.

Ryan smiled brightly. “I wanna do some distance work. Will you time me?”

“Sure. How long?”

“Mmm, give me fifteen minutes. That should do it.”

“Okay.” Jamie waited until Ryan got back on the track and into a ready position. “Go!”

Ryan started off in her usual style, but then she bent her knees more, inclined forward at the waist and really started moving. She kept her hands clasped behind her back on the straight-aways, but dropped her right arm when she went around the curves. She looked more like an ice-skater than a Rollerblader, but she was eating up track at a very fast clip. As the minutes passed, Jamie could see she was getting winded. Her pace slowed with each lap, but Ryan didn’t stop. By the time fifteen minutes was up, Ryan moved as if she was wearing concrete skates. Jamie called out the time and Ryan put her hands on her knees and slowly glided to a halt. Then she started moving again, standing up and taking small strides. By the time she was back at the bench, she was dripping wet and breathing heavily. “Damn, fifteen minutes seems like an hour!”

“You were really moving at the beginning.”

“Yeah. I’m not good at distance. I always start out too fast, then I die in the final laps.”

“Can’t you force yourself to go slower?”

Ryan grinned, her face bright red, her breathing heavy and quick. “What fun is that?”

“Help me up, speedy.” Ryan did and Jamie stood for a moment, making sure she had her balance. “I wanna do some more. Do you mind?”

“Of course not. I’ll go with you.”

“You don’t have to, hon. You look beat.”

“I am, but I wanna keep an eye on you.”

“Okay.” Jamie held her hand and they started out slowly, partly for Jamie and partly for Ryan. They gradually increased their speed, with Jamie finally sitting down into a pretty good squat. “Ooo, I’m gonna feel this in the morning.”

“That’s the point. This should give you a good aerobic workout and keep your hot little legs in shape.”

“I like it. It’s a lot more fun than being on the treadmill.”

“I’m happy to go with you any time, babe. This is good exercise for softball.”

“It’s a date. You just have to ensure we’re gonna have good weather.” She stuck her tongue out and giggled as Ryan tried to grab it.

Jim Evans was working in his office when he heard a soft knock on his inner door. “Come in.” He didn’t look up immediately, finishing the stack of papers he was signing first. When he did lift his eyes, he saw Kayla lingering in the doorway. She looked particularly good, and he realized he hadn’t seen her that day. He’d left while she was still asleep and he’d been too busy to come up with an excuse for why he needed to meet with her. “Hi, there,” he said, slowly looking her up and down. Putting his chin on his fist, he said, “I can’t imagine a better color for you. What do you call it?”

She entered and sat on the edge of his desk. “Green,” she said, chuckling.

He put his hand on her knee and gently rubbed up and down her leg, hoping to find evidence of stockings or a garter belt. “I know it’s green, but what shade?”

“Who are you — Giorgio Armani’s brother?”

“No. I just think you look so wonderful that I’d like to know exactly what you call that color.”

She grasped his hand and stopped it from creeping any higher. Giving him a droll look, she said, “Your mouth says you want to know what color my dress is, but your hand seems more interested in my underwear.”

He removed his hand, but not before giving her a suggestive look. “I’m multi-tasking.”

Giving him a quick kiss, she said, “My dress is…” She looked down, considering the color. “I’d say grass green.”

“In the springtime,” he said contemplatively. “Before it turns dark.”

Kayla tugged on his earlobe. “You’re in a mood today.”

“I worked hard and now I’m ready for a good dinner and a couple of drinks. Care to join me?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” A sound slap reverberated in the quiet room when Jim’s hand strayed into forbidden territory as Kayla slid off the desk. “Not in the office, Senator.”

For dinner, Jim chose one of Kayla’s favorite places, a restaurant he found a bit loud and rushed. But she liked the trendy, spicy food, and seemed to brighten up when they dined there. They were sipping mojitos and munching on tortilla chips dipped in a spicy salsa when he asked, “Have you given any thought to where you’d like to work next year?”

Her tongue poked out of her mouth to delicately lick a bit of salsa off the edge of her lips. Her head shook quickly. “Not much. Have you heard of anything?”

“Nothing concrete, but if we win the election, I’m sure you could stay on here. You’d be a big help to a newcomer.”

She smiled shyly. “Really?”

“Yes, of course. I love being with you, Kayla, but I’d never have given you the tasks I’ve asked you to do if I wasn’t sure you could do them well.” He chuckled softly. “If I’d thought you weren’t capable, I would have just brought you with me and supported you.”

Her smile faded. “I’m not the kind of woman to do that.”

“I know,” he said, nodding enthusiastically. “That’s another one of your good points. You’re not here just to have an easy job.”

Huffing a bit, she said, “If that were my goal, then I’ve really screwed up. I’ve been working my butt off since we’ve been here.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “You work harder than I do.”

“Duh. Staffers always work harder than MOCs.”

“The members of congress are always posing for pictures and going to receptions and on fact-finding missions. We don’t have time to do much real work.”

“Well, we minions have nothing but time. Especially when we’re expected to work sixty to eighty hours a week.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No. Not at all. I like this so much better than practicing law.”

He loaded a chip with salsa and put it into his mouth, chewing for a moment. “You didn’t get much chance to really practice, Kayla. You were never even first chair at a trial.”

“That’s true, but I think I learned the important things when I was at the firm. It seems that the most important tenets in corporate law are to delegate all of the repetitive stuff to underlings, be a good negotiator, and spend most of your time making contacts to bring in more clients. Of course, you have to kiss your current clients’ butts on a continuous basis. I don’t mean to demean the job, but it was pretty boring.”

He looked nostalgic when he said, “I loved preparing for trial. That was a rush for me.”

“Oh, me, too,” Kayla said, insincerity dripping from her words. “I worked on three trials. Two of them were exactly the same: ninety hour weeks, eating cold pizza at 3:00 a.m., spending hours a day prepping witnesses. Then both cases settled the morning of opening arguments. The third one was settled after about a week of trial. I’ve never felt more like I’d thrown away months of my life. I learned next to nothing, except for the indisputable fact that I hate to be sleep deprived.”

Jim laughed. “It’s not like that when you’re the lead attorney. It’s fun then.”

“And I could be the lead attorney in what—seven years? No thanks.”

“Hey, you’ve gotta put your time in. Big firms aren’t in a rush to create more partners. Every addition is a subtraction—”

“From your big, fat share of the profits,” she said, finishing his analysis.

“I thought it was worth a few years of heavy lifting to earn seven figures.”

“Not to me,” she said confidently. “Being here lets me feel like I’m actually doing something. I like it a lot.”

“You are doing something,” he said, looking into her eyes. “I can tell you take this very seriously.”

“I like giving you position papers and helping you decide how to vote on various bills. And being able to introduce legislation that means something…” She shivered noticeably. “It’s a rush.”

“I think you’re made for this, Kayla. Much more so than I am.”

“I wouldn’t like your job, but I’d like to work in the White House one day. I’m not sure what I’d like to do, but policy work has really grabbed me.”

“Who knew you’d be a policy wonk?” he asked with a chuckle. “If Al wins, I’ll do whatever I can to get you a spot in his administration. He’s a bigger wonk than Clinton, and that takes some effort.”

“Cool!” She beamed at him, showing her bright, white teeth. “I’d love to get in there and help him make some progress against global warming. I shudder to think what’ll happen if that idiot Bush wins.” She made a face. “But I have faith in the American people. Al might be wooden, but he’s smart. Bush is lazy and has no intellectual curiosity. Who’d want to be led by a guy who isn’t curious?”

“No one I know,” he said, smiling. “But, Bush has more personality than Gore does. I hope that doesn’t win the day, but it might.”

“Don’t even talk like that! The economy’s in great shape, we’ve got a big surplus, the market’s booming. Why would people wanna change what’s working?”

“I’m worried that Clinton’s nonsense with Lewinsky will dirty Gore. The Republicans have made it seem like Clinton’s a lying sex fiend.”

“Well, he probably is.” Kayla laughed. “But if we only had moral icons in Congress, you’d never have to wait to be served in the congressional dining room.”

“That’s all too true.” Their entrees were delivered and they each spent a few minutes trying their selection and offering bites to the other. Jim looked down at his plate and said, “So, when I go back to California, is it over for us?”

“We’ve talked about this,” she said, her voice soft and tinged with warning.

“I know, I know. But we’re getting along well. You won’t find a new man the second I leave, will you?”

She was also staring at her plate. Her shoulders rose and fell. “No, I suppose not. But why drag it out? I don’t want to return to California and you can’t stay here. Long distance relationships just don’t work.”

“They can if the people are really in love,” Jim said wistfully.

“Love?” She raised an eyebrow. “Since when are we in love?”

“I have a lot of feelings for you, Kayla. Really, I do.”

Her mouth full, she nodded. After she swallowed she said, “I have feelings for you, too. But I’ve been careful to remind myself this isn’t permanent. I thought you had too.”

“But, you’re so—you’re such a good woman, Kayla. I think we could…” He trailed off, at a loss.

“We could what? See each other every month or so? And then what? You don’t want more kids, and I might. And I work so hard I want someone to help me relax at the end of the day. Having to fly across the country to see you would just add to my stress.”

“I could come see you,” he said, smiling hopefully.

“Jim,” she said softly, “let’s not get into this now. It’s May, and I can’t know what I’ll be doing until after the election. If Bush wins and we lose your seat, I might be out on my butt.”

“No way. Even if that happens, God forbid, you could get on with a lobbying firm. I could help you with that.”

“We’ll see,” she said. “No rush.”

“But you’ll consider seeing me?”

“Sure,” she said, her gaze showing a hint of amusement. “I’ll consider it.”

He smiled at her, even though he felt that she was humoring him.

On Wednesday morning, Ryan found Jamie on her hands and knees, her head under the bed. She was wearing a pair of mint green satin panties, and the view was too much for Ryan to resist. As stealthily as possible, she got to her knees and crawled to straddle a leg, then placed her lips on the satin-clad ass and blew the loudest raspberry she could muster. Along with a shriek, Ryan heard a loud thump. She grimaced, knowing the thump had to be a skull or other hard surface hitting the mattress slats.

“My head!” Jamie’s butt started to twitch as she backed out. She sat down heavily, scowling at Ryan. “Very funny.” She rubbed the injured spot. “Why’d you do that?”

Ryan crawled to her, trying to look contrite. “Your butt looked so cute. Really.” Her eyes were wide and brimming with sincerity, fooling Jamie not at all.

“Can it. You just like to freak me out.”

Ryan shrugged, grinning. “Well, there’s that, too. Sorry you hit your head. But I bet you win an award at the athletic department luncheon, and that’ll cheer you up.”

“I doubt it. Remember my roommate, Lauren?”

“I’m not sure…”

“Sure you do. She was that really, really shy freshman. Nice kid.”

“There were two shy freshmen. Which one was yours?”

“Oh, never mind. Anyway, she did nothing but study. I’m sure she’s got the highest GPA on the golf team.”

“Well, maybe you’ll get some other cool award.”

“I like to keep my expectations realistic. I’m just counting on a nice sandwich.” She gestured for Ryan to come closer. “Now you scramble under the bed and get the sandal I was trying to reach. And don’t complain if something gets swatted while you’re under there.”

Ryan’s sexy smile made the slight pain in Jamie’s head disappear as if by magic.

The luncheon was much more crowded than either woman had expected. Looking around, they noted most teams were gathered together. Jamie saw Lauren and Samantha from the golf team sitting at a table, neither of them speaking or looking like they were having fun.

“Don’t make me sit with them,” she stage whispered.

“Who?”

“My teammates. They’re nice kids, but I have to talk constantly when I’m with them.”

“God knows you hate that,” Ryan said with a straight face.

“I wanna sit with you.” Jamie smiled sweetly and took Ryan’s hand, digging her fingernails into her palm.

Ryan yanked her hand away and tucked it around Jamie’s waist. “Always makes me happy to sit with such a calm, quiet woman.” She waved enthusiastically at her volleyball teammates, who were sitting about twenty feet from the entrance. “Ooo, I’m gonna have to pick a group.”

“That’s what you get for playing three sports, sport.”

“I guess I’d better stick with softball, eh?”

“Sure. Works for me.” They went over to the volleyball group and greeted everyone, then Ryan explained she had to keep moving. While they walked, Ryan spotted Janae from the basketball team, standing on the periphery of the crowd. Ryan made some hooting sound that reminded Jamie of a large animal and Janae replied in kind, smiling broadly.

“If it isn’t the pride of the athletic department,” Janae teased.

They hugged in a rough, large woman athlete fashion, and Jamie mused that she’d be bruised for days if Ryan was that rough with her.

“What’s up?” Ryan asked. “Where you sittin’?”

“I haven’t decided. I’m the only one from the team who was invited. I guess I can sit with…” she craned her neck, looking around.

“Us,” Ryan said. “I wanna sit with my softball teammates, and my antisocial girlfriend doesn’t wanna be with her teammates.”

“What team is that?” Janae asked, bending to hug Jamie gently. “All disabled?”

Jamie held up her splint. “I was on the golf team, but you have to have two working elbows to be any good.”

“Ouch! What happened?”

“Nothing interesting. I just took a header and cracked the bone.”

“Still hurts, though, right?”

“Oh, yeah.” Jamie rolled her eyes dramatically. “But it’s almost healed. I get the splint off soon.”

“I’ll sit with you and help you cut your meat.”

Jamie wrapped her good hand around Janae’s beefy arm, just barely refraining from commenting on how much bigger it was than Ryan’s. “We probably won’t get meat, but you can cut whatever we get.”

They made their way to the softball group, a small, but boisterous crowd. Lupe was standing and waving to get Ryan’s attention, although her diminutive size didn’t allow her to stand out in the crowd of athletes. She, Heather, and Kim were chanting: “Notorious R-O-F,” making Ryan smile, wave with both hands, then bow dramatically.

“Ladies,” she drawled. “My posse and I would like to class up this table. May we?”

“Yes, yes,” Lupe said, her enthusiasm apparent. Jamie was sure Lupe was straight, and just as sure that she had a girl-crush on Ryan.

They sat down and Ryan did the introductions, making Janae sound like she was ready to be drafted by every NBA team. Servers started placing simple plates of penne pasta with red sauce in front of each person, and Jamie picked up her fork and said to Janae, “Maybe I’ll need you for dessert.”

Janae snickered, “We’ll probably get Jell-O.”

“If we’re lucky.”

The hosts didn’t allow much time for dawdling over lunch. As soon as the majority of people had been served, the athletic director introduced himself and spoke for a few minutes about how important athletics were to creating a well-rounded student and member of society. Nearly everyone continued to chat, ignoring the earnest man. It wasn’t until he brought up a pair of assistants and they began to announce awards that anyone paid the slightest bit of attention.

Ryan heard Janae’s name in the first group. “What did you win?” she asked as Janae stood to a round of applause.

“Pay attention, Money.”

“Money?” Jamie asked.

“Money in the bank when Ryan’s at the free throw line,” Janae explained. She sat down and said, “I won a PAC-10 Postgraduate Scholarship.”

“Cool!” Ryan gushed.

Jamie leaned over and kissed Janae on the cheek, “Way to go.”

“Yeah, the $3,000 should get me through med school…if I go to Beijing University.”

“Three thousand? That’s all?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah. And each school can only have four winners. It’s a big deal in terms of prestige, but $3,000 won’t pay for my books.”

“Where are you going?” Jamie asked.

“UCLA. I was going to stay here, but I decided to live at home. It’ll be an adjustment for all of us, but I don’t wanna spend money on rent and food if I don’t have to.”

“I don’t blame you,” Jamie said. “You’ll probably be too busy to notice where you’re living, anyway.”

Janae laughed. “Probably true.”

“Hey,” Heather said, “they’re doing the team award. We’ve got a chance, guys.”

The announcer said, “The Golden Bear Team Award goes to the women’s golf team, with a team GPA of 3.25.”

“Hey, I win,” Jamie beamed.

“Stand up,” Ryan urged.

“No way. I didn’t want to sit with my teammates, I can’t stand up now; I’m a traitor.”

Ryan leaned over and whispered, “I’m gonna pinch you until you get up.”

Jamie stuck out her tongue. “Don’t even think about it. I’ll pop you with my splint.”

Ryan pulled her hand back. “Sitting down is good.”

“Now for the Golden Bear Achievement Awards,” the announcer continued. “This award goes to the student-athlete with the highest GPA in each sport.” He then started on a long list, going down each of the men’s teams first. When he finished with them, he started with basketball for the women. “Janae Harris and Siobhán O’Flaherty are virtually tied. Since spring semester grades aren’t yet available, the committee has decided to give both women the award.”

“Cool for us,” Ryan said, while she and Janae slapped hands so hard Jamie was afraid they’re break a bone.

“You can’t be that smart,” Kim, one of the softball players, teased. “You’re too goofy.”

“I cheat,” Ryan said, grinning while she crossed her eyes.

After a few more sports were announced they got to golf. “This is you, Jamie,” Heather said.

“No, I don’t think so. I’m here by the skin of my teeth.” As predicted, Lauren took the award, and Jamie clapped loudly for the shy young women. “Told ya,” she said.

“You probably woulda won if you hadn’t broken your arm,” Janae said, smiling.

“More than likely. I lost at least ten I.Q. points when I fell.”

“Hey, volleyball is next,” Heather said. “You gonna take it, O?”

“More than likely,” Ryan said. “I’m a freakin’ genius.” She didn’t even blush when her name was called.

“You really are a genius,” Kim said, looking stunned.

“Told ya.”

Jamie was mildly puzzled that Ryan seemed to delight in her awards, but she certainly did seem proud of herself.

The last award to be announced was for women’s softball and the team members started to quietly chant, “O’Flaherty, O’Flaherty.” Before her name was called, Ryan pushed her chair back and started to stand, rising to her full height when the announcer said, “Once again, the award goes to Siobhán O’Flaherty.”

Ryan looked as confident and proud of herself as Jamie had ever seen her. She gave a quick wave and sat down again, letting out a big breath. “It’s tiring getting up every couple of seconds.”

“Show off,” Jamie said, backhanding her in the gut with her splint.

“Show ’em if you’ve got ’em,” Ryan gloated.

After another few awards were handed out, the Anna Espenschade Award for successful integration of athletic and scholastic pursuits was announced. “This year’s award goes to the very busy Siobhán O’Flaherty,” the athletic director said. Ryan looked a bit nonplussed, but she stood and nodded when people began to applaud. “Siobhán was PAC-10 player of the month twice this year and was a PAC-10 All Academic team selection. She’s graduating this year with a double major in mathematics and molecular and cell biology.” Ryan started to sit down, but she was called to the podium to accept her award, a large gold cup with her name engraved on it.

When she returned, Kim was staring at her, open-mouthed, and Lupe looked just as shocked. “You’re a double major? In math and bio?” Kim asked.

“Yeah,” Ryan said, ducking her head in the way she always did when she was embarrassed about her accomplishments.

Jamie leaned over and hugged her, kissing her cheek as well. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered.

Ryan nodded briefly, leaving no doubt that she wanted the spotlight to be turned off.

Next was the Neufeld Scholar Athlete award, given to graduating senior man and woman who held the highest GPA. “You’ve got this one locked,” Lupe said, beaming at Ryan.

But Ryan was slumping down in her seat, looking like she’d rather be anywhere but here. The athletic director said, “Once again…” and Ryan put her hand over her eyes. Jamie was afraid she was going to slip to the floor, but she perked up when the A.D. said, “Janae Harris and Siobhán O’Flaherty will share this honor.”

Janae got up first and pulled an embarrassed Ryan to her feet. Ryan was blushing furiously, and Jamie felt a wave of sympathy for her partner now that she was acting like herself. When Ryan sat down, Jamie just squeezed her thigh, not wanting to make a bigger deal out of it than she had to. Ryan gave her a thankful glance and took Jamie’s hand.

The PAC-10 medal was next and Jamie thought she could hear Ryan mutter, “Please, no,” under her breath. This award went to the outstanding male and female student athlete at each PAC-10 school. The athletic director built up the award for a few moments, going into the requirements for the winners. He mentioned not only scholarship and athletic performance but leadership. When he announced the name of one of the women who’d won a scholarship, Jamie could see Ryan let out a relieved breath. They all applauded, but Kim stage-whispered, “You were robbed, Rof. Robbed!”

“I’ll steal it from her on the way out,” Ryan said, cockiness back in force.

The next award was for the most academically improved student athlete, and everyone at the table was surprised and pleased when the athletic director announced, “Lupe Moreno of the softball team” as the winner. Lupe looked like she’d faint, but Heather and Kim helped push her to her feet. She was in tears by the time she sat back down and her teammates immediately surrounded her with hugs and pats on the back.

“I’m so proud of you,” Ryan said when she reached her for a big hug.

“It was hard when I first got here,” Lupe whimpered. “I worked every minute, but I nearly got dropped from the team because of my grades.”

“You stuck with it, Lupe. And you did great. Really great.”

Lupe looked up, meeting Ryan’s eyes. “My parents don’t speak English, and I didn’t learn until I got to school. I’ve always had to work hard to keep up.”

Ryan looked like she was on the verge of tears as she reached into her pocket and took out her cell phone. “Call your parents and tell them.”

Lupe beamed at her. “Really?”

“Yeah. Call ’em right now. They’ll be so excited for you.”

Lupe turned her face to the wall behind her and furtively dialed while the A.D. announced the last award. It was for community service, and Jamie was glad that Ryan hadn’t had time to volunteer like she had when she was at USF. She still wasn’t sure how Ryan had time to do so much volunteer work while working so many hours, but she figured that was one of her lover’s many, many secrets.

Ryan held Jamie’s hand on their leisurely walk home. She seemed fine, and a casual friend wouldn’t have noticed anything different in her demeanor, but Jamie could tell there was something rumbling under the surface of her placid expression.

“How come you don’t get to take that big-ass trophy home?” she asked in a teasing voice.

“Oh, please.” Ryan looked supremely aggrieved. “That was so embarrassing. They should have asked me if I wanted all of that stuff.”

Cocking her head, Jamie gave her a curious look. “You’ve got me guessing at things here, Tiger.”

“What things?”

“Well, when you were named as the GPA queen of three sports, you seemed to think that was cool. You were kinda cocky about it, which isn’t, may I observe, your normal reaction. Wassup with that?”

“Oh.” Ryan nodded. “I, uhm, was pretty sure I was gonna win those, so I was prepared. I knew they weren’t gonna say what my GPA was, so I didn’t think it’d be too embarrassing.”

“Why is it embarrassing to be recognized, baby?”

Ryan fidgeted, looking like she had a few fleas hiding in the bright blue striped cotton shirt. “I dunno. It just is.”

“But you said you were prepared for that. What do you mean?”

“You don’t have to have a really fat GPA to win those. You just have to be the highest on the team. I could’ve had a measly little 3.2 or something and still won. That’s not a big deal.”

Jamie elbowed her. “Hey! I’ll be jumping for joy if I get a 3.2.”

“Fuck,” Ryan muttered. She looked beseechingly at her partner. “That’s not what I meant. 3.2 is great. Really. It’s just that it’s not…astronomical or anything.”

“What’s your GPA?”

“Not sure,” Ryan said dismissively. “The ‘F’ I’ll probably get in French will affect it.”

Jamie made a face, trying to tease a smile back onto her partner. “Is it astronomical?” She snuck a hand in and tickled Ryan’s armpit, making her lover dance away and slap at her hand.

“Maybe.”

“Hey,” Jamie said thoughtfully. “Why didn’t you try to win the University Medalist award? I’m sure you would have had a good chance.”

Ryan put her hands up. “No interest. You’ve gotta ask for it.”

“Ask for it?”

“Yeah. You have to apply and write an essay and get a bunch of recommendations. It’s a big deal. You have to actually ask for it.” She shook her head, as though wondering who would ask for such an honor.

“I had no idea what the requirements even were. Why do you know so much about it?”

“Uhm, some people wanted to write recommendations for me, but I wasn’t interested.”

“That seems so odd. Why not be recognized for what you accomplish, baby?”

Ryan’s expression resembled the one she usually wore only while eating sour pickles. “It’s politics and popularity and all of that junk. So are grades, for that matter. I don’t like the whole deal.”

“Grades are politics?”

“Sure. I’ve got a, well, kind of a rep in my majors. Professors assume I’m gonna kick ass. If I didn’t do quite as well as they expected, they’d probably give me the benefit of the doubt. Like on my independent study. I didn’t really prove much of anything, but I know Robin will give me an A plus. No doubt.”

“But you worked like a dog! You could have taken a full load of classes and not worked that hard. You deserve an A plus for the effort and your methods.”

Ryan shrugged. “Eh, maybe. But she didn’t know how hard I worked. She just saw the results.”

“The results of hours and hours of work, Ryan. It had to be clear to her that you busted your butt. That matters.”

“Oh, who knows? It all seems like a game to me. I learned a lot in college and that’s what matters. Hell, Lupe should be the one who gets awards. She works constantly and plays ball with every ounce of her energy. Why don’t we award people who make the absolute best of what they have?”

“You’re no slacker, Ryan. It’s not like you sit on your ass and win things because of your gifts.”

“Sure I do,” she said testily. “I dabble at things. I don’t put all of my effort into any of my sports. I can’t even pick one major. Hell, I can’t decide where to go to grad school. I could do so much better if I could pick one thing I love and dedicate myself to it.”

Jamie looked at her and saw the angst etched into her lover’s beautiful features. It truly pained her to see how Ryan struggled to prioritize her enormous talents, but she knew this wasn’t the day to praise her. It was a day to distract her. “You have done that,” she said quietly, her voice sincere.

Ryan had to pause for a second to let Jamie’s comment reach her brain. “What? How do you figure?”

Jamie squeezed her hand and smiled at her. “You picked me. And you’ve dedicated yourself to loving me every day since. You deserve the Jamie Dunlop Smith Evans award for the world’s best lover. And as soon as we get home, I’m gonna give you the trophy.”

A luminous smile lit Ryan’s features. “I get a trophy?”

“Sure do.”

“Is it about…” she held her hand out to touch the top of Jamie’s head. “…this high?”

“About that. Yep.”

“Is it warm and soft and cuddly and sweet?”

“Immodestly, I’d have to say yes.”

“Let’s go,” Ryan said, taking Jamie’s hand and starting to walk quickly. “This is one loving cup I can’t wait to get my hands on.”

PART SIX

SINCE JAMIE HAD told Ryan she was constantly hungry for her, her partner had responded with remarkable vigor and tenacity. Not sure if Ryan’s libido was truly in overdrive, or if she was responding primarily to her request, Jamie had decided not to pursue the answer, just enjoy.

One element she delighted in was the closeness they created when they made love often. She’d forgotten how bonded they’d been when they were first together, but those feelings all came back now, and made her more aware of how deep her love for Ryan was.

Now Ryan slept, her breathing so heavy that it was almost a snore; Jamie was dozing lightly. Ryan’s head was on Jamie’s sternum, one of her long arms draped between Jamie’s thighs, while the other was splayed over her head, fingers tangled in blonde hair. It looked like someone had hit Ryan with a tranquilizer dart just as she was about to devour her partner. In fact, she had practically devoured her in the figurative sense.

Jamie wished Ryan was facing her so she could see her lovely face, but she had to content herself with occasionally opening her eyes and seeing Ryan’s head move up and down with each breath.

The phone rang, startling her and waking Ryan.

“Wha…? Where?” Ryan mumbled, sitting up and trying to get her bearings.

Jamie patted her, then tried to extricate herself to answer the phone with her uninjured arm. “Hello?” she finally said on the fifth ring.

“Jamie. Niall.”

“Hi, Niall. What’s up?”

“Talked to Tommy. He’s in. Time to buy.”

“Okay,” she said, shaking her head at his machine-gun style of talking. “What do you want me to do?”

“The deal.”

“You want me to make the offer?”

“Yeah. Okay?”

“Umm, yeah, I guess. What do you want to offer?”

“Whatever you think. Let me know.”

“Wait!”

She could hear him put the phone back to his ear. “What?”

“That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“Yeah. We want you to handle it.”

“Niall,” she said, frowning at Ryan who was now awake and giggling. “You have to give me some parameters.”

“Huh? You know the deal. If it’s really underpriced, we’re good. Whatever works.”

She sighed, knowing this conversation was not going to end in a way that satisfied her. “Okay. I’ll call the agent and see what I can come up with.”

“Good. See ya.”

“Bye, Niall.” She hung up and looked at her partner drolly. “A fine mess you’ve gotten me into.”

“He wants you to do everything, right?”

“Right.” She sat up and tried to arrange a pillow behind her back. When it became clear she wasn’t having great success with one hand, Ryan helped. “He bought and sold a house recently. Didn’t he learn anything?”

“Nah. His da told him what to do. He’s clueless.”

“Why doesn’t his da take over now?”

“No way,” Ryan said, laughing. “My Uncle Patrick would never put himself into a position where everyone in the family was second guessing him.” Like a naughty child, she put her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. “Did I say that out loud?”

“If I had better mobility, I’d swat you with a pillow.”

“Just kidding.” Ryan scooted up the bed so they were shoulder to shoulder. “No one will second guess you. They think you’re smart.”

“Thanks,” Jamie said, chuckling.

“I know you’re smart, but they think so based on no facts. They’re intimidated by a woman who has money and education and confidence. You or Maggie could tell them to jump off the Golden Gate and they’d assume you had a good reason as they were falling to their deaths.” Finding her teasing particularly humorous, she giggled again.

Jamie put her arm around Ryan’s shoulders and pulled her down to kiss around her ear relentlessly. Ryan was careful with her because of her injury, and Jamie knew she could get away with murder. “You’re gonna help me with this, smarty pants. So get up and put your thinking cap on.”

“I don’t need a special hat,” Ryan said, wrinkling up her nose. “But I’ll turn my computer on. We can crunch some numbers, my favorite hobby.”

“Mine too,” Jamie said, wishing the phone hadn’t rung.

After an hour on the phone with Ray, the real estate agent, and a short conversation with Mr. Merriman at her bank, Jamie was ready to make an offer on the building. She and Ryan had decided to go in at 20 percent below asking price, assuming their offer would be rejected. But Jamie wanted to get a read on how negotiable the seller was.

Ryan drove them to the city, where they met with Ray to write up the offer. He filled out the standard real estate offer form, blinking in surprise when Jamie said she was making an all cash offer.

“All cash?” he repeated, dubious.

“Yes.”

She didn’t elaborate, and even though he looked like he wanted to ask why they didn’t need a mortgage, he just crossed out the section that asked for mortgage information. When he was finished, he cocked his head. “Are you signing for the group?”

“Yeah.” She pulled out the partnership agreement that Maggie had created for them. “Two of us have authority to bind the partnership—Niall O’Flaherty and me.”

“I’m a little worried that the seller will be reluctant to deal with such a large group. In my experience, it’s always easier with fewer people.”

“I’m sure that’s usually true,” Jamie said agreeably. “But I’d like for you to stress to the seller and his agent that I’m funding the project alone. When it comes to money, they’ll only have to deal with me.”

He smiled briefly. “I won’t tell them you don’t look old enough to drive.”

Jamie stiffened. “My age has nothing to do with my business sense.”

Ray held up his hands. “I didn’t mean I thought that. I just—well, it’s pretty rare to have someone as young as you are come in here and offer to write a check for an apartment building.”

“I’m sure it is. But we’re serious about buying. If not this building, then another. I’m old enough to know not to fall in love with a building. This is nothing but business, Ray. I only care about the bottom line.”

“Gotcha,” he said, putting his head down as he finished filling out the form.

When Jamie got home, she called Niall and told him they’d made the offer. “I don’t want to have to call everyone,” Jamie said. “Will you call someone from each family and pass the word on?”

“Yep. Call me when you need to.”

She chuckled, thinking Niall would be the last person she’d call just to chat.

Around 10:00 the next day, Ray called to say he had received a counter-offer. But to Jamie’s dismay, he wanted to present the offer in person. “Well, I don’t have time to come to the city,” she said. “So you’ll have to come here or wait until I have time.”

“Oh.” He was quiet for a few moments. “I guess I’ll come there. When’s good for you?”

“On second thought, I’ll ask my brother-in-law if he’s available. He lives close to you.”

“That’d be great,” Ray said. “I’m booked solid today. I’d have to come to your house late in the evening.”

“That won’t work,” Jamie said. “So expect Brendan O’Flaherty or Maggie Reardon to contact you to set up a time.”

“Okay. Let me hear from you when you decide what to do.”

“Will do. Bye.”

About an hour later, Jamie’s cell phone rang. “I’m on the ground, ba-bee!”

“Mia!”

“Where are you gonna meet me? I don’t have a bag checked, so I can be at the curb in about fifteen minutes.”

“Great. I just got here and I was gonna park, but it’ll be easier if I just pick you up. I’ll lurk along the curb outside of Arrivals and wait for you.”

“Are you in the Boxster?”

“No. I’m in Ryan’s car. I still can’t work the shift on mine.”

“Okay. I’ll look for one big blue car with one little blonde driver.”

“Smart-ass.”

“You know you love me. Don’t even try to act like you’re not joyous at the thought of seeing me.”

“I can’t lie that well. Now, get off that plane and into my car!”

Mia ran to the driver’s door and waited impatiently as Jamie lowered the window. Her infectious grin made Jamie smile so broadly that her cheeks hurt. As soon as the window was down, Mia planted a big kiss on her lips. “Pop the trunk, you gorgeous thing.”

Giggling, Jamie did as she was told. Mia tossed in her bag, then got into the passenger seat. “Take me home,” she instructed imperially. “I wanna have some fun before I have to go to my parents’ house.”

Jamie leaned over and wrapped her good arm around Mia, squeezing her tightly for a long moment. “I love you,” she finally whispered, kissing Mia again as she pulled away.

Mildly puzzled, Mia gave her a wary smile. “Do I have a terminal illness I don’t know about?”

“What?”

“You’re acting…kinda strange. You don’t usually get all mushy with me.”

“Well, I should. I love you, and I’m not sure I always let you know that.”

Mia leaned back in her seat, still looking a little puzzled. “Yes, you do. I don’t ever doubt that I’m your BFF.”

“Good.” Jamie nodded decisively. “You’re my best friend forever, and I always want to be sure you know it.”

“Is this about the conversation we had on the phone last week?”

“Maybe a little. I feel like I hurt your feelings, and it’s been on my mind.”

Mia reached over and tousled Jamie’s hair. “Don’t be nuts. I was feeling sensitive about my thesis. You didn’t say anything wrong.”

Jamie let out a big sigh. “I feel like all I do these days is bitch. I’m on Ryan’s case for talking to a girl, I’m down about how out of shape I am, and I’ve been really pissy to my mom.”

“Your mom? What’s she done?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m just a bitch. I feel like I’ve got PMS all the time.”

“You don’t have premature menopause, do you?”

Jamie smiled a little. “I rather doubt it. I think I’ll just accept the fact that I’m a bitch.”

“You never were before, and I don’t think you are now. Now take me home. I’m sick of sitting here and having that security guard stare at us.”

Jamie gave her a smile that was so sincere it was almost comical. “I love that you think of our Berkeley house as your home.”

Eyebrows rising, Mia said, “It is our home, isn’t it?”

“Yep. Sure is.”

“I’m glad we think the same way.” Mia put her hand on Jamie’s leg and squeezed it roughly. “I’m so glad to see you, girlfriend.”

“Me, too. As much as Ryan can fill up a house, it’s just not the same without you and Jordan. I want her to be happy, but I wish she’d win a gold medal and retire.”

“You and me both. I want her to be happy too, but I’d rather she was happy doing what I wanted her to do.”

“A girlfriend’s prerogative. What do you want her to do?”

“I’d like her to finish school and then get her masters in architecture. She really wants to be an architect and I think she’d be good at it. Then I’d go to law school and we could settle down to being a lesbian power-couple.”

Jamie was pulling onto the freeway, but she managed a sideways glance at her friend. “But you’re not a lesbian.”

“I know that, and Jordan knows that, and you know that, but we’d be viewed as lesbians because of our near-constant lovemaking. People make assumptions…” She chuckled.

“So, things are good?”

“Things are great. Jordy’s happy, and when she’s happy, I’m happy. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be?”

“Near as I can tell. That’s the way it is at my house.”

“Ryan’s good? She’s not dating anyone else yet?”

Jamie blindly slapped in Mia’s direction, managing to hit her on the shoulder. “She’s not fooling around; I imagine she’s fooling around. Big difference.”

“Probably not to her,” Mia said, her tone more serious and thoughtful.

“Yeah,” Jamie said, matching her friend’s affect. “You’re probably right. It hurts her a lot when I doubt her. And it hurts our relationship. I’ve gotta get over this, Mia, but I’m not making great progress.”

“Can’t that shrink work some magic? You’re paying her enough.”

“I’d pay her double if she could make this go away. But I think I have to work the magic.”

“I might be off, but I think Ryan’s like me. If I’m single, I’m, let’s say, fond of human contact.”

Jamie laughed. “Okay. I’d agree with that.”

“But once I’m into someone, that’s it. I’m not looking anymore. And even if I look at men and women, I’m just looking. I would never, and I do mean never, cheat on Jordan. If I wasn’t happy, I’d tell her and try to fix it. But my sex drive is pointed in her direction. Only. Other women and men hold no interest for me—other than as a tiny portion of my fantasy life. But the thought of having sex with someone else, is…it’s actually repellant.”

“Really?” Jamie asked, sounding a little amazed. “It’s repellant?”

Mia’s voice was soft and low. “Yeah. Jordan and I don’t just have sex. We make love. She touches me in a way no one else ever has. Thinking about someone else just giving me a fuck is…crass.” She made a sour face. “I can’t imagine a situation where that would happen. I honestly can’t imagine it. And I’m not even a lesbian!”

“I know.” Jamie giggled along with her friend. “I think you’re right. I think Ryan’s like that, too. I know how much she loves me and I know how honest and loyal she is. I have no reason on earth to mistrust her. That’s why it’s so frustrating and annoying when I do. It’s based on a gut-instinct that I can’t let go of, even though it’s hurting the woman I love more than anyone on earth.”

Mia reached over and placed her hand on Jamie’s leg, squeezing it gently. “I bet it’s hard for you.”

“It really is.” Her voice was near-breaking and Jamie reached up and wiped away a tear. “I hate the fact that I doubt her. But the closer we get to our commitment ceremony, the more I worry. I just think of how my parents were both committed to a lifetime of fidelity and how easily they broke those vows. It must be easier to cheat than it seems. That’s all I can guess.”

“I don’t know, James. It just doesn’t seem smart to assume Ryan’s gonna be like your dad. She’s not like him in any other way. Why pick this one?”

“It’s not that I think she’s like my dad. I worry that we’re not mature enough to make this commitment. I see so many people act like they’re so ridiculously in love, and then they’re not speaking a year later. Where’s the disconnect? Did they not know what love was? Or can you really fall out of love that easily?”

“I don’t know,” Mia said. “But it makes me sick to think of not loving Jordan. It’s impossible to imagine.”

“I feel that way, too,” Jamie said earnestly. “But doesn’t everyone feel that way? And if they do, how do half of all marriages end in divorce?”

“Don’t have a clue. And I don’t ever want to get one.”

Coach Roberts had polled the softball team and found that they preferred to practice earlier in the day, now that classes had ended and everyone wanted their evenings free to study for finals. He had to schedule practice for a different time every day, since the players’ finals schedules were all different, but he was able to accommodate everyone.

So Ryan was finished for the day when she burst into the house at 2:00 p.m. “Who wants to kiss me?” she bellowed, her voice ringing through the house.

Mia was the first one to reach the railing on the second floor. “Me! Me! I wanna kiss you!”

“Excellent.” Ryan beamed up at her and extended her arms. As she suspected she might, Mia ran down the staircase and leapt at her, hurling both of them back against the front door. “Ooof!”

The air burst from Ryan’s lungs, but she kept her feet and managed to hold onto Mia, who pulled her head back and said, “Where’s my kiss?”

“Where’s my air?” Ryan panted. “You’re quite a handful.”

Mia gave her a good smack, the kiss so noisy that Jamie heard it. “Leave some for me,” she called, descending the stairs.

“I’ve always got a kiss for you,” Ryan said, looking around Mia’s curls to smile at her partner.

Jamie slapped Mia on the butt. “Make way. I called dibs.”

Mia released her hold and slowly slid down Ryan’s body until her feet touched the ground. “Jordan can’t hold me as well as you do. But don’t tell her that.”

“Our little secret,” Ryan said.

Jamie gave Ryan her welcome home kiss, then said, “I know you’re hungry, Tiger. What’ll it be?”

“Anything,” Ryan said dramatically. “I’m faint with the hunger.”

“We’re having sushi for dinner, if that influences your decision.”

“Oh, it does,” Ryan said. “I’ll have a couple of sandwiches first.”

“But you won’t be hungry for dinner.”

“That’s the point,” Ryan said, grinning.

After Ryan’s fairly moderate lunch, the girls sat in the living room, catching up on the minutia of their lives. “When I talked to you the other day, you didn’t talk about your trip to Texas,” Jamie said to Mia.

“Not much to tell.” Mia was sitting sideways in one of the overstuffed chairs, looking almost boneless as she often did when relaxing. “We got there, the team practiced, we had a very early dinner, then we left for the match. But the good news is that there was another cut after the games and Jordy’s still wearing the red, white and blue.”

“How many outside hitters do they have now?” Ryan asked.

“I’m not sure.” Mia’s expression was one of intense concentration. “I think…five. But maybe six.”

Ryan nodded. “They’ll probably keep four, unless a middle-blocker can also be an outside hitter.”

“Yeah, I think Jordy said they’ll keep four. She won’t know for sure until like…July. They wait as long as they can.”

“God, that must be so frustrating!” Jamie said.

“It doesn’t seem as bad now. But maybe it’s just not as bad for me. I’m sure Jordy’s gonna make it. She won’t even talk about it, but she’s been the first substitute after the usual starters. They wouldn’t do that if they weren’t serious about her.”

“It’s cool you noticed that,” Ryan said, obviously impressed.

Mia shot her a small scowl. “It’s her career. And it means everything to her.”

“I know that. And I didn’t mean it to sound like I was insulting you. I just meant that, well, I know sports isn’t your thing. If Jordan’s not talking about it, you’re being observant, and that’s really nice.”

“I love her, you dope. I notice when she eats less than usual or if she isn’t sleeping well. Her body’s like a sports car or something. We both treat it like it’s more of a machine than her.” She scrunched up her face. “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does to me,” Ryan said. “I’ve never competed at her level, but I know it’s a very different thing when your career rides on your body.” She shook her head. “It’s gotta be a lot of pressure.”

“It is. And it’s only gonna get worse.”

“Is she still as skinny?” Jamie asked.

“I don’t think she has the capacity to be sturdy like Ryan is.”

“Nice term,” Ryan said, wrinkling her nose.

“Well, you are sturdy. But Jordan’s always gonna be kinda reedy. Her mom has the same build and she couldn’t weigh five pounds more than Jordy. I’d say that she’s put on a few pounds of muscle since she hit bottom, but she’s still awfully thin for my tastes. She’s eating a lot of protein now, but still almost no fat. But she’s able to eat more vegetables, which makes dinner a little easier. We can at least have big vegetable salads. She wants tofu on hers, but I’m not going there,” Mia said, making a face.

“You get to have rice tonight,” Jamie reminded her.

“Ooo, who ever thought I’d be excited about having rice? It’s hard being in a relationship!”

Dinner was artfully laid out on the kitchen counter, and Jamie stood back a little to watch her partner fill her plate. Ryan tried to be a good sport, but she was still very skittish about Japanese food. Jamie knew that her experimental nature would eventually lead her to love the food, but Ryan was a long way from being comfortable. She poked at the eel with her chopsticks, her nose slightly wrinkled in disgust. The soft-shell crab didn’t receive a much warmer reception and the octopus was ignored without a second thought. It wasn’t until she hit the salmon sushi and the tuna sashimi that she looked happy. Jamie knew those were her favorites, so she’d ordered eight of each, knowing that Ryan would eat most of them.

Mia, who loved Japanese food as much as Jamie, dove into the quail eggs, salmon roe and salmon skin with gusto. “This looks so good, James. I haven’t had Japanese food in forever.”

“Seems like yesterday,” Ryan mumbled, looking over her shoulder to see if Jamie was taking her teasing well.

Jamie picked up a plate and swatted Ryan’s butt. “I’d have this every week if I had my way. I go easy on you because you’re so cute.”

Ryan leaned over and kissed Jamie on the top of the head. “You don’t have to do that. I can keep up with you.”

“I want you to be happy.”

“And I want the same for you.”

Mia made a growling sound. “Knock it off! Stop trying to out-polite each other.”

Ryan wrapped an arm around Jamie, holding her close. “We can’t help it. We’re so disgustingly polite that we’re gonna have to start a support group.”

“You have the best ideas,” Jamie said, looking over her shoulder at Ryan.

“No, no, you do,” Ryan said, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face.

“I’m gonna eat before I barf,” Mia declared, flouncing into the dining room.

Kayla stopped by Jim’s office after almost everyone else was gone for the day, as she often did when he didn’t have an engagement for the evening. It was a very open secret that Jim and Kayla were sleeping together, but they both made it a point not to interact personally during the day. All of their business conversation was strictly business, and no one could say that Kayla wasn’t one of the hardest working aides in the office. Still, they both knew that having an office romance wasn’t good for either of them, particularly given lingering effects of the Clinton/Lewinsky scandal. Being impeached for lying about having sex was harsh, even by Washington standards. And while everyone in Congress knew the impeachment was theater, it had made everyone, particularly Democrats, a little edgy. So Jim and Kayla tried to be circumspect and keep their private and public lives as separate as possible.

Jim was on the phone when she slipped into the office, so she kicked off her shoes and sat down, putting her bare feet onto another chair. She watched him speak, noting his habit of doodling and jotting notes onto a legal pad the entire time he was engaged.

Kayla had no idea who he was talking to, but it clearly wasn’t business. He was relaxed and chatty, something he never was when Senate matters were at hand.

“I know it sounds crazy,” he said, laughing a little, “but she’s going to be going to the same place you are. Why not hitch a ride?” He looked up briefly and smiled at Kayla.

“I’m sure you will feel uncomfortable, but what’s more important—being there for Mia or feeling comfortable?” He nodded, writing “yes” in big, bold letters before he turned each of the letters into a three dimensional look. “That’s the girl! And it’s not like you’ll be alone. The plane will be filled with people. She won’t even notice you’re there.”

He looked at Kayla again, giving her a very satisfied grin. “I’ll get you back to Colorado on the last flight tomorrow night. You’ll miss most of the party, but that’s not a deal-breaker, is it?” He nodded emphatically. “Good! So, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. And you don’t have to dress up, either. Most of the people on the plane are reporters and they always look like hell.” He chuckled and said, “See you then.” He hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. “I’m pretty cagey when I want to be.”

Kayla privately thought that Jim was cagey even when he wasn’t trying, but she thought she’d better not offer that opinion. “What are you cooking up?”

“Just a little surprise for my daughter.” His phone rang again and he scowled when he saw the caller identified. “Gotta take this.” He picked up the phone. “What’s up, Jason?”

Hearing that name prodded Kayla to go back to her desk. Jim’s senior aide wouldn’t call him from home unless it was important, and she hated to waste time watching him talk on the phone. So she decided to work until he was ready to leave for his late flight, hoping she wouldn’t faint from hunger before then.

While they ate, Jamie asked Mia, “How long do we get to keep you?”

Speaking around a bite, Mia said, “I have to go home with my family tomorrow. Peter’s coming home and I assume we’ll have a little party or a special dinner after the convocation.”

“That sounds like fun,” Ryan said. “When can you come back?”

Mia batted her eyes coquettishly. “Sure you want me?”

Ryan stared at her. “Hell, yes. I want you and Jordan to move back here and you know it.”

“I do,” Mia said, giggling. “I just wanted to hear it. I guess I can come back late tomorrow night or Friday morning. I have a final on Friday afternoon.”

“What other finals do you have?”

“Mmm…” She squinted, thinking. “Tuesday morning, Wednesday morning, and Wednesday afternoon. Then I’m all done.”

“Want me to come get you?” Ryan asked. “I just have one final on Monday, so I’m pretty available.”

“Nah. Somebody can bring me back.”

“Just buzz me if nobody’s available. I’d be happy to do it.”

“You’re my first alternate,” Mia said, pointing her chopstick at Ryan. “If I’ve worn out my welcome in a day, I’ll hit you up for a ride.”

Brendan called just as Jamie began to brush her teeth. Ryan answered and spent a few seconds talking to her brother, but, to Jamie’s surprise, Ryan didn’t ask him about the sale. She just handed over the phone and lay down on the bed, listening raptly to Jamie’s side of the conversation.

“Hi, Bren.”

“Hi. This isn’t too late, is it?”

“No, not at all. What’s up?”

“Well, it looks like the seller is willing to deal. He countered at 10 percent below asking price. Ray thinks that’s a very good sign.”

“I do too. Did you ask him why he needed to see you to tell you the details?”

“Eh, I did, but he gave me some bull about wanting to make sure we could go over the entire thing and have all of our questions answered. I think he thinks we’re slow.”

“He’s wrong,” Jamie said, chuckling. “What do you guys think we should counter with?”

“I talked to Maggie, and she thinks it shows good faith if you meet halfway.”

“So, 15 percent under ask?”

“Yeah. That’s what she thinks, and I tend to agree.”

“Sounds good.” She sighed heavily. “It’s so nice to talk to you, Bren. You actually have opinions.”

“So do the cousins. Just not about anything worthwhile,” he said, laughing.

On Wednesday morning, Jordan got up before the sun rose. That was her habit, but even if it hadn’t been, she wouldn’t have needed the alarm. She was a bundle of nerves, having tossed and turned all night long. Having Mia gone disturbed her sleep, but that wasn’t what was making her nervous.

She got up and nabbed the shower first, washing and starting to dry her hair before anyone else was up. The dryer was noisy and she didn’t hear the knock on the door. Toni opened the door a little and shouted, “Can I come in and pee?”

“Sure.” Jordan kept drying her hair, absently thinking about her schedule.

When Toni was finished she stood behind Jordan and said, “Want some lotion on your back?”

“Sure. I can do it, but it’s easier to have help.”

Toni moisturized Jordan’s skin, giving her a mini-massage at the same time.

“That feels good. I’m pretty tense.”

“You feel it.” Toni worked on the muscles in her neck for a few minutes, then reached up and took the dryer from her. She held the appliance while Jordan continued to use her brush to present sections of her hair to the heat. “Your hair is getting so long you’re gonna have to pay somebody to do this,” Toni said.

“Nah. I can do it. And I’ll have it trimmed soon. I just never have time.”

“Your arm must be getting tired.” Toni took the brush and performed the entire task. Jordan put her hands on the sink to brace herself while Toni assertively brushed her long hair. “Good thing Mia’s not here,” she said, giggling. “She wouldn’t like how this looks.”

Her head tilting just a tiny bit, Jordan gave her teammate a puzzled look. “Why?”

Laughing again, Toni said, “You’re naked, holding on to the sink; I’m behind you in only my panties…”

Still clueless, Jordan continued to look at her. “I don’t get it.”

Exasperated, Toni said, “I look like I’m about to fuck you!”

Blue eyes didn’t register the imagined scene. “With a hair dryer?”

“Never mind.” Toni looked a little put off. “I sure wouldn’t like to find my naked lover in a bathroom with another woman.”

Jordan’s gaze sharpened and her eyes became hooded. “Then why are you here?”

“Uhm, well, Mia’s not home…”

“So you wouldn’t offer to dry my hair if she was?”

“Uhm, no, I guess I wouldn’t.”

Jordan turned and took both the dryer and brush from Toni’s rather limp hands. “Then you shouldn’t do it now. I don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do in front of Mia. I’d appreciate it if you did the same.” She managed a small smile and made a shooing gesture. “I’ll be out in a couple of minutes.” Wordlessly, Toni backed out of the room, leaving a mildly scowling Jordan.

By 7:00 a.m. Jordan was in Mia’s car, driving the relatively short distance to the Air Force Academy. She briefly considered Toni’s behavior, puzzled about her teammate’s comments. She didn’t understand why Toni would do something that she wouldn’t do when Mia was home, and, even more puzzling, why she’d admit to it. Jordan would never behave in a way that Mia would disapprove of, and she was confounded by her friend seemingly delighting in it.

By the time she’d spent a few minutes thinking about the issue, she was at the gates of the complex. It took a while to get through Security, but everything had been arranged, and after showing her driver’s license to a few guards she was directed to a visitor’s parking lot. She got out and walked to the impressive building where she was supposed to check in. A man about her age, looking alert and sharp-eyed, was sitting at a desk. “I’m here to meet Senator Evans,” she said.

“Yes, Ma’am. May I have your name?”

“Jordan Ericsson.”

“Just a moment.” He picked up a phone and dialed a number, waiting a moment for someone to answer. “Jordan Ericsson for Senator Evans.” He listened attentively, then said, “I can provide her with an ID badge and have someone escort her. Thank you, Sir.” He turned back to Jordan. “Go through the door to your left and you’ll be photographed and given a badge. Come back here when you’re finished.”

She nodded and did as he said, slightly amused when another young man, just as stiff and sharp as the first took her photograph and checked her license again. He filled out a form on his computer, asking for her social security number. An ID card rolled out of a printer and he put it into a plastic holder attached to a lanyard. When he extended it to her, he held on for just a second. “This is optional, Ma’am, but if you’d like to offer your telephone number I’d be most appreciative.”

She started to give it, then it hit her. She laughed. “I’m partnered.”

He smiled agreeably. “Doesn’t surprise me, Ma’am. It’s not often a beautiful woman who lives in Colorado Springs drops by, though, so I had to ask.”

“I’m flattered,” she said, gracing him with one of her generous smiles. “Have a nice day.”

“Tell your friends this is a fine place to meet single men with stable jobs.”

“I’ll be sure to.”

She went back to the front desk and there was a third starched young man waiting to take her to meet Jim. . In silence they took the elevator to the third floor and exited to find a row of offices. He took her to an office marked “Lt. Colonel Avery Weiskopff” and opened the door for her. She entered and was not surprised to find yet another neat young man sitting behind a desk in the anteroom. Her guide saluted and said, “Ms. Jordan Ericsson for Senator Evans.”

His salute was returned and she was handed off. “Please have a seat,” her new attendant said. She did, and was no sooner in the chair than Jim emerged, smiling and happy-looking.

“Jordan, you made it.” He enveloped her in a friendly hug. “You’re looking very well.”

“Thanks, uhm, Senator—”

“If you don’t call me Jim, you can’t get on the plane.”

“Thanks, Jim,” she corrected immediately.

He laughed and tossed an arm around her shoulders. “Have you had breakfast?”

“Not much. I was too nervous.”

“Then let’s go get something.” He looked at the desk-bound man. “Sergeant, where can a couple of civilians get a bite to eat?”

“Exit this building and turn left, Sir. Follow the path until you reach the mess hall. You’re welcome to use it.”

“Thank you,” Jim said. He poked his head into the inner office and said, “I’ll be back in a bit. I’m going to go get some breakfast. Want anything?”

Jordan couldn’t hear the response, vaguely wondering who Jim was with. Before she could spend another minute thinking about it they were walking briskly down the corridor, following the sergeant’s instructions.

“So,” Jim began, “tell me how things are going. I don’t talk to Jamie often enough to keep up with everyone.”

“We’re doing well. I’m not sure how Mia can keep herself entertained, but she claims she likes being here.”

“Maybe being entertained isn’t her top priority,” Jim said, giving her a wry grin.

Jordan blushed a little, nodding her agreement. “She’s a very determined person. She made up her mind and there wasn’t anything I, or her parents could do to stop her. I’ve learned that it’s a waste of time and energy to try to talk Mia out of something. And since I benefit from her choice, I’m selfishly happy that I couldn’t talk her out of it.”

“I know Mia pretty well,” Jim said. “She’s a lot like her father was when he was her age. Adam made a decision and stuck with it, even if it didn’t make sense to anyone else. He was a very headstrong guy…until he got married.” Jim chuckled. “I never would have thought he’d marry a woman who ruled the roost, but Anna Lisa sure does!”

Jordan couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t know either of them well, but it’s always surprised me that a guy who’s supposed to be a powerful lawyer takes a backseat to his wife. He seems to follow orders pretty well.”

“Yeah, that’s Adam. He’s in charge when he’s away from home…and that’s it! But he seems happy in his marriage so I sure as hell can’t criticize him.”

“Whatever works,” Jordan agreed. “I wish he would have been more supportive when Anna Lisa was so mad at Mia, but he just vanished.”

“Mia can’t do any wrong where Adam’s concerned, but I can’t see him crossing Anna Lisa.” He shook his head. “I just can’t see it.”

“So I should spend my time making Anna Lisa like me, huh?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.

“And her mother. Adam says his mother-in-law makes Anna Lisa look like a teddy bear.”

Jamie called Ray on his cell phone at 8:00. “Jamie Evans,” she said when he answered. “This isn’t too early, is it?”

“No, I’m up,” he said, but he didn’t sound particularly awake.

“I want to make a counteroffer, but I can’t go to the city today.”

“Oh. Well, maybe Brendan—”

“He doesn’t have signing authority, Ray. We can do this with faxes, and that’s how we’re going to work from now on. I don’t have time to come to your office to sign a paper and I don’t want you to have to come over here.”

“Oh. Okay. I guess we can do that.”

“Of course you can. I’ve written instructions telling you exactly what to offer. Just fill out the form and fax it to me. I’ll sign it and fax it back.”

“All right,” he said hesitantly. “I’m not used to doing—”

“Then this will be a fun, new experience,” she said with feigned enthusiasm. “I’ll be available until about 1:00, then I’m booked for the rest of the day.”

“Okay,” he said, sounding much more awake. “I’ll get right on it.”

“Excellent. Let me know.”

They were seated at the mess, Jordan eating some of the fresh fruit and cottage cheese that the fairly health-conscious mess offered. “Did you stay here last night?” Jordan asked.

“Yes.” He took a bite of scrambled eggs and chewed quickly. “I stayed at the Broadmoor. It’s a very nice resort. Have you been there?”

Jordan smirked. “If it’s nice, you can be sure I haven’t been there.”

“I could have stayed here, but…” he smiled rather rakishly, “I’m used to the sweet life.”

“What are you here for, if you don’t mind my asking?”

He waved her off. “No secrets. I’m on the subcommittee that oversees the service academies. I didn’t have to be here exactly today, but this seemed like a good time to take a look around. I haven’t been here before.”

“Wow,” Jordan said, a smile creeping out of her composed expression. “That’s a lucky break—what with having to be in California this afternoon anyway.”

He winked at her. “Funny how things work out, isn’t it?”

They finished their meal and strolled back to Jim’s borrowed office. As soon as they entered the room, a young man came out of the inner office and said, “They’re ready. We’ve got to hurry.”

He handed Jim his briefcase and a raincoat, then dashed back into the office to grab his own things. He was back in seconds, then exited and walked down the hall so briskly that Jordan and Jim practically had to jog to keep up. Once they were in the elevator, the young man said, “Jason Farlington,” and extended his hand to Jordan.

“Jordan Ericsson.”

“You’re Jamie’s friend, right?”

“Yeah.”

“The Olympian.”

“Uhm, not yet, but I’m still on the team. If I make the next two cuts, I’m going to Sydney.”

“Very cool. Good luck with that”

They got into a waiting car and were whisked to the airfield. From a distance, Jordan could see a plane that looked out of place. It was gleaming white and The United States of America was stenciled along the side. “Is that Air Force One?” she asked, her voice breaking.

“No,” Jim said. “It’s number two. The vice president is here, too, but he doesn’t need to make the side trip to San Francisco.”

“This is kinda freaky,” Jordan said. She was unnaturally pale and her voice was softer and a little higher than normal.

“Nonsense.” Jim put his hand on her knee and gave it a squeeze. “When you see the riff-raff that gets on with us, you’ll think you’re flying coach.”

“But…that’s the vice president’s plane.”

“And we’re hitching a ride,” Jim said with enthusiasm. “It’s an adventure.”

They were let out of the car just about twenty yards from the plane. Jordan watched as a group of men and women were allowed to climb the stairs and board the plane. They did, she had to admit, look a bit scruffy. “Reporters,” Jim said, seeing where she was staring. “We’d better get on or they’ll take all the good seats.”

They got into the line and many of the reporters spoke to Jim, asking why he was at the academy and why he was traveling to California. He proudly said he was going to his daughter’s convocation after having conducted some business for his subcommittee.

They found seats and Jordan was surprised at how boisterous the plane was. There was a moment of quiet, then Madeleine Albright, the Secretary of State, boarded the plane, cordially saying hello to many of the reporters by name. She stopped at Jim’s seat and looked at Jordan for a second. “Is this your daughter, Jim?”

Jordan jumped up to shake her hand, hitting her head sharply on the bulkhead. Her eyes were squeezed shut in pain as Jim quickly came to her rescue. “No, my daughter’s about half a foot shorter than Jordan. This is one of her best friends, Madam Secretary. Jordan Ericsson’s a member of the U.S. Olympic volleyball team. She and my daughter Jamie would have been graduating together, but Jordan postponed finishing school to compete.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Jordan,” Ms. Albright said. “It’s not every day that I get to meet an Olympian.”

“The pleasure’s mine,” Jordan said, reaching out to shake her hand. “I’m really looking forward to hearing your speech today.”

The Secretary laughed. “You can’t mean that, but I hope it doesn’t bore you too much.” She nodded and moved to the back of the plane, being followed into a private cabin by several aides.

“That was cool,” Jordan said, her voice so full of awe that both Jim and Jason laughed.

“I guess we forget that this is a pretty big deal,” Jim said to Jason.

“I suppose,” Jason said, his attention already diverted to the stack of documents that nearly filled his lap.

A massive SUV was waiting for Jim on the tarmac of the Oakland airport, but it was dwarfed by the retinue that Secretary Albright had on hand. The Secretary and her aides and bodyguards exited the plane first, then Jim and his group were next in importance. Jordan felt a little odd to have the reporters looking at her critically as she passed, and she knew some of them were barely restraining themselves from asking who she was and why she was with Senator Evans.

They made it to Berkeley in good time, even though they didn’t receive the police escort the Secretary merited. Jordan got out in front of the house and found herself smiling broadly in anticipation of seeing Mia. She waited impatiently as Jim finished speaking with Jason before sending him on his way. Jim nudged Jordan with his elbow. “Let me go ring the bell while you wait on the side of the porch. Wait for a minute or so, and then come in. The surprise will be better that way.”

Her eyes popped open. “I don’t know if I can wait.”

He smiled at her. “Isn’t being in love wonderful?”

“It’s the best,” she said, giving him an unguarded, glowing smile.

They walked up to the wide porch and Jordan went to the far corner. He knocked once, and in seconds Jamie opened the door. “Daddy!” She put her arms around his neck and hugged him, then Jim went inside and Jamie closed the door.

Shifting her weight and fidgeting, Jordan stood the delay for as long as she could. She wasn’t sure that even a minute had passed, but she didn’t care. She didn’t want to waste another second. Her stomach was fluttering and her palms were sweaty when she grasped the door handle and pressed down with her thumb. Swinging the door open slowly, she saw that Jim and Jamie were just a few feet away from the door. Ryan was sitting on the back of a nearby chair and Mia was on the second step of the staircase, looking mildly interested in what Jim was saying. The breeze coming in through the open door caught Mia’s attention first, and she shrieked, “Jordy!” In a flash, she was in Jordan’s arms, hugging her so hard that Jordan was briefly worried about a rupture. But it felt so good to see Mia so happy that she ignored the pain and luxuriated in her lover’s embrace.

Jamie did a double-take, then said to her father, “You were behind this, weren’t you?” Before he had a chance to answer, both she and Ryan were trying to grab a piece of Jordan to hug—but Mia hadn’t left them much to work with.

Jordan managed to say, “You dad called me and arranged for the whole thing. I got to fly with him and Madeleine Albright!”

Ryan maneuvered Mia enough to one side to place a kiss on Jordan’s cheek, then went back to Jim. “That was very, very nice of you. Having Jordan here makes the day a whole lot better.”

He snuck a look at Mia, who was still holding on to Jordan and seemed to be crying. “If you and Jamie care for her half as much as Mia does, that’s an understatement.”

After regaling the group with the excitement of her trip, Jordan went upstairs with Mia so that Mia could get dressed for the ceremony. As soon as they crossed the threshold to her bedroom, Mia started to kiss Jordan, feathering her entire face and throat with the gentle touches. “I’m so happy you’re here,” she finally sighed. “It just didn’t feel right not having you with me. It didn’t really feel like a reason to celebrate, you know?” She looked up at Jordan, her big brown eyes radiating love.

“I do.” Jordan held her close, not saying another word, just gently rocking her while she rhythmically stroked her back.

Jamie was prepared for guests. She assumed someone from the family would come to the house at some point, and she wanted to train herself to observe the O’Flaherty tradition of always offering a bite to eat. She and Ryan set out a spread of cold cuts, cheese, olives, and raw vegetables, along with condiments and dip. Ryan wasn’t quite finished slicing some French bread when Mia came into the kitchen, closely followed by Jordan. “I smell food.”

“You have a better nose than I do,” Ryan teased. “Go ahead and start munching.”

“It’s gonna be a long day,” Mia said. “I won’t get another meal until seven or eight o’clock. I’m glad the weather’s nice, though. And it doesn’t look like it’ll be too hot.”

“It’s a long way from hot,” Jordan said. “It’s in the fifties, but the wind is fierce. You guys will never keep your caps on.”

“Ooo, was the flight bad?” Mia looked up at Jordan, searching her expression.

Jordan looked a little stiff when she said, “Yeah. A little. I didn’t like it.”

“It wasn’t too bad,” Jim added. “Our take off was pretty bumpy, though. I’m glad I didn’t have a cup of coffee in my hand; it would have been all over my suit.”

Mia protectively wrapped her arm around Jordan’s waist, and rested her head on her chest. Jordan didn’t say anything, but she and Ryan shared a small, knowing grin, acknowledging that their lovers were both protective of them.

Jordan and Mia nearly shared a chair at the table, but they managed to eat a good-sized meal, giving Mia energy for the day.

Jamie nibbled contemplatively on a carrot, then commented, “I’m surprised you’re wearing a dress, Mia. Are you just dressing up for Jordan?”

“No,” she said, beaming a sweet smile at her partner. “My grandparents are coming, and if I don’t wear a dress, the lecture might take as long as the speeches.”

“Are all of your grandparents alive?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah. My dad’s parents are cool. They kinda sit back and watch the fireworks.”

“The fireworks come from…?” Ryan led.

“My mom and her mother. Her father’s really quiet unless you get him worked up about something, but my grandmother makes my mother seem like she’s on Xanax.” She shot a charming grin at Jim and added, “If I had any idea of what Xanax makes someone act like, that is.”

Jim laughed. “You don’t look a lot like him, but you’re definitely Adam Christopher’s daughter. It’s hard to believe how many years it’s been since he and I were getting ready for our graduation from Stanford.”

“It’s kinda cool that you and my dad were buddies in college,” Mia said. “I hope Jamie and my kids are close enough in age to be friends.” She and Jamie made fists and pressed their knuckles together. “Too cool, huh?”

“I hope your kids take after Jordan,” Ryan teased.

Mia shot back, “And yours had better take after Jamie, so they don’t run around sleeping with…” She stopped dead, her eyes growing wide.

“My father knows about Ryan’s…popularity before she met me,” Jamie said quickly, putting Mia out of her misery.

Exaggeratedly wiping her brow, Mia looked at Jamie quizzically. “That’s going pretty far on the ‘introduce your girlfriend’ scale, isn’t it?”

“We share everything,” Jamie said, giving her father a smile that a stranger would have known was theatrical.

“I tell my parents my address and phone number,” Mia said. “Any more than that’s too revealing.”

“I don’t know your mother well,” Jim said, “but if your father gives you a hard time about anything, you just let me know. I can tell you things about him that would make your head spin.”

“Tell me now,” Mia said excitedly.

“No, no, I’ll only do that if he deserves it. God knows he’s got the goods on me, as well.”

Jordan watched the exchange, privately wondering what Mia’s father could have on Jim that would be more embarrassing than the things she already knew about him.

Catherine called about an hour before the girls were due on campus, and after consulting with Jamie, they agreed that she’d stop by and pick up Jim on her way. Jordan volunteered to take the graduates to campus and then return the car to the house. “Would you save me a seat, Jim?” she asked.

“Don’t you want to sit with my family?” Mia asked, looking hurt.

“Oh, sure, but I haven’t met anyone but your mom. I don’t think I could find them in the crowd.”

Scowling, Mia said, “I guess that’s true. But I could call Peter and have him look for you. He’s seen your picture.”

“I’d rather meet them when you’re there,” Jordan said, thinking that Mia’s description of her family dynamic was less than appealing.

“Okay. You’ll probably have a better time with Jim and Catherine, anyway. My grandmother tends to complain when people talk for too long. She’ll probably start grousing after about ten minutes.”

“I’m used to people talking about nothing for hours at a time,” Jim said. “I’ve got ninety-nine colleagues who do nothing else.”

PART SEVEN

CATHERINE WAS RUNNING late, so she didn’t even come inside. She called as she reached the corner and, after kissing Jamie goodbye, Jim went out to meet her.

Jamie turned to Ryan and said, “No more distractions. We’ve gotta get ready, bud.”

“I’m ready.”

Jamie looked at her, taking in the white “Berkeley Math” T-shirt Ryan had bought for all of her friends in her major. The shirt was cute, with the pi symbol centered on an American flag. Jamie just hoped that Ryan didn’t keep whistling the song “American Pie” all day, or she was afraid her classmates would strangle her. Besides the shirt, she wore neatly pressed navy blue shorts and a gold and blue striped web belt. Her hair was pulled back in an elastic band, adding to her ultra-casual look. The only fashion concession she’d made for the event was to wear both of her blue diamond earrings. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

“Yeah. I’ll be hot in the gown, so why waste decent clothes? I’ll get ’em all sweaty.”

“It’s not very hot out, Boom,” Jordan reminded her. “I don’t think it’s gonna hit sixty.”

Ryan put on her “don’t waste your time telling me what to do” expression and said, “It’s sunny, and we’re wearing black. I’ll be hot.”

Pouting slightly, Jamie said, “You’ll look goofy in the pictures.”

“No I won’t. Since my legs are bare, it’ll look like I’m wearing a dress.”

“Not with those running shoes on.”

“It’ll be fine.” She patted Jamie on the butt. “Promise. Now go get dressed. We need to leave in ten minutes.”

Jamie climbed the stairs, mumbling just loud enough for her friends to hear. “She’s gonna look dumb.”

Jamie put on a sleeveless, summery dress in a pale blue print, grousing to herself while she dressed. She couldn’t recall ever being seriously disappointed in how Ryan looked, but this disappointment was pretty acute. It didn’t make sense to her to even bother going to the ceremony and wearing the gown, only to wear running shoes and a ponytail. When she returned downstairs, everyone was ready and Ryan was holding the door open for her. “Hurry up, babe.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

Ryan looked at her and asked, “Where’s your splint?”

“I’m not wearing it.” Jamie’s eyes locked on to Ryan’s, daring her to protest.

“Fine. But you’d better have some support on that arm. You won’t be happy if you have to have surgery.”

Jamie drew back the arm of her black gown, showing the elastic bandage she’d been able to wrap fairly adeptly.

“Can I check it out when we get on campus? I wanna make sure it’s tight enough.”

“It is,” Jamie said, giving her that no-nonsense look again. If she had to bite her tongue to not criticize Ryan, she wasn’t about to allow Ryan to criticize her.

Holding up her hands in surrender, Ryan wisely chose to remain silent.

As they walked to the car, Jamie pointed to the paper sack her lover carried. “What’s in the bag?”

“Nuthin’.” Ryan was wearing her angelic expression, and Jamie didn’t press, as she knew she’d find out sooner or later what her secretive lover was carrying.

They hit traffic almost the moment they left the house. “How many people are in our class?” Ryan asked.

“I think I read there were maybe six thousand?” Jamie said.

Ryan grumbled, “I think every one of them has a car and is in front of us.”

“I bet my dad regrets not sticking with the Secretary of State,” Jamie said. “He’d probably get airlifted in to the ceremony.”

The area was so congested that Ryan finally gave voice to the inevitable. “We’re gonna have to walk if we wanna get there on time.”

“I’m wearing heels,” Jamie said.

Ryan pulled over to the curb and removed the key from the ignition, handing it to Jordan. “If the traffic’s too terrible, just find a spot and leave it somewhere. The police won’t be able to tow everybody.” She opened the back door and noted Mia’s glare. “I know. You’re wearing heels, too. So go barefoot.”

Mia cocked her head, looking at Ryan like she was just a little insane. “My mother and my grandmothers would flip if I went barefoot.”

“Carry your shoes. Just leave ’em off until we get close.”

“I’ve got nice stockings on.”

“So do I,” Jamie added.

“Then wear your shoes. We don’t have many options, girls. We haven’t moved in five minutes.”

Grudgingly, both Jamie and Mia took off their shoes, but Jamie demanded that Ryan hand over her socks, putting the very large socks on, then sticking her tongue out at Ryan. “My stockings cost more than your socks.”

“Jordy, do you have socks?” Mia asked.

“No, but I’ll bring you another pair of stockings from the house. How’s that?”

“Perfect.” Mia kissed her, then turned her towards the car. “Get going so you can get back here fast.”

“Got it.” Jordan jumped in and took off, actually making progress since she was moving away from campus.

The walk was moderately long, but since they were passing so many cars, it seemed like they were moving very quickly. “Think we’ll make it?” Jamie asked.

Ryan looked at her watch. “We won’t be there an hour early like we were supposed to be, but nothing at Berkeley ever starts on time. If we get there five minutes beforehand, they’ll let us into the procession.”

Mia moved to stand between Jamie and Ryan, and grasped both their hands. “Am I the only one who’s sad?” she asked, looking from one to the other.

“No,” Jamie said, immediately reaching up to wipe her eyes. “I am too. And don’t squeeze my hand too hard or I’m gonna cry even harder. I still don’t have much flexibility.”

Ryan reached into her paper bag and handed handkerchiefs to both women. “I knew we’d be crying all day and I didn’t wanna bring a whole box of tissues.”

“Why aren’t you crying?” Jamie demanded. “You always cry first.”

“Yeah, but if you cry first, I don’t always follow. You kinda act as an overflow for me.”

“Makes sense,” Jamie said. “So, since we were here for two years before we met you, Mia and I will start the crying, and you can come in a little later.”

Ryan winked and blew her a kiss. “You always come up with a good plan.”

They were only about ten minutes late as they approached Kleeberger Field, the area where the graduates were to gather. There were so many graduates, so many signs, banners, and officious people shouting out directions, that the three of them looked at each other for a moment, unsure of what to do. Ryan snapped out of her funk first. “Don’t move. I’ll figure out where we’re supposed to be.”

Ryan ran back up to them a few minutes later. “Okay. Here’s the scoop. We go over there,” she pointed to a distant spot, “and get in line. We’re gonna start moving in just a few minutes, so we’ve gotta hustle.” They sped off, long, black gowns flapping in the steady wind. They’d just reached the spot where they were supposed to be when Conor ran up to them.

“I’ve been looking for you guys for a half hour!”

“We were late,” Ryan said. “What’s up?”

“Catherine bought you these,” he said, opening a big box and showing them three gorgeous leis made up of white and gold orchids.

“Cool!” Mia took one and put it on Jamie. Jamie put Ryan’s on, then she put the last one on Mia, standing back to admire her friend.

“You look fantastic,” Jamie said, kissing Mia and enveloping her in a long hug. “This is the last time we’ll graduate together,” she added, starting to cry again.

“I’m taking off,” Conor said. He bent and kissed Ryan on the head, then gave both Jamie and Mia a kiss on the cheek. “You guys all look great.” He shot a pointed look at his sister. “Except for those stupid running shoes.” Narrowing his gaze, he demanded of Jamie, “Where’s your splint?”

“Don’t rile her up,” Ryan said. “Call us and tell us where you’re sitting,” she called out as he loped away.

Jamie took Ryan’s cap and carefully set it on her head, making sure it was perfect. She kissed her and said, “You look lovely. And I’m going to make myself forget you’re wearing shorts and a T-shirt and running shoes.”

“Does it bother you?” Ryan asked solicitously.

Shrugging slightly, Jamie said, “You’d look so pretty in a dress that every once in a while I wish you didn’t hate them. But I know you really do, so I don’t want to coerce you into wearing one.”

“I do hate them, but I like to please you.”

“Too late now. Hey, we’re ready to move."

They got in line just as the procession began and the huge group began to move in fits and starts.

“Reminds me of the AIDS Ride,” Ryan said, smiling. Her smile morphed into tears in a matter of seconds. “It kills me that Michael isn’t here,” she said, struggling to control herself. “He always used to tell me that I’d be a Bear one day.” She shook her head, her long hair cascading across her shoulders. “Don’t even get me started about my mother.”

“Don’t think of that,” Mia begged. “Let’s focus on the fun we’ve had.” Her lower lip started to tremble and she barely got out, “…that’s over now.”

“God, we’re a big mess,” Jamie said, putting an arm around both Ryan and Mia, making sure her left arm was nice and straight so it didn’t hurt. “We’re gonna drown ourselves by the end of the day.”

Once it got going, the procession moved relatively quickly, and in just a few minutes they drew near to the rear of the theater. “Lots of protestors,” Ryan said, being able to see over much of the crowd. “I had a feeling this would be a big day for dissidents.”

“What are they pissed off about?” Mia asked, straining to see through the crowd.

“Secretary Albright,” Ryan said. “Let’s see…I see signs saying ‘Baby Killer,’ ‘Clinton and Albright Condone Genocide,’ ‘Iraqis Are Human Beings,’ and…‘Secretary of War.’” Ryan looked at her friends and said, “They seem to be upset with our speaker.”

“What’s up with Iraq?” Mia asked. “Are we mad at them? I thought it was Iran we hated.”

“We have sanctions against Iraq,” Jamie said. “People are angry that the Iraqis aren’t getting medicine and food.”

“Well, what did they do to piss us off?”

Ryan looked at her askance. “College grad, huh?”

Mia slapped at her. “I’m in American Studies. A-m-e-r-i-c-a-n. Is Iraq in America?”

“Nope. Don’t think so,” Ryan agreed.

“I rest my case. So, why are we pissed?”

“Lots of reasons, but primarily, the sanctions are supposed to force Saddam Hussein to spend money on his people, rather than on building up his army again.”

“Oh. Right,” Mia said. “The whole Gulf War thing.”

“Yeah,” Jamie said with an indulgent smile. “That thing. Hussein’s still in power and we’ve had sanctions against trading with Iraq for ten years now. Most people agree they’re not working, and the Iraqi citizens are the ones who are suffering.”

“Got it. That’s why Albright’s a baby killer.”

“That’s one view,” Jamie said. “I can tell you what the administration says—”

“Nah.” Mia waved her hand. “I’ve got the gist now. That’s all I need.”

“So easily satisfied,” Jamie said, getting a wink from Ryan.

They reached the back of the Greek Theater and were directed to move into single file. Ryan put her arm around Jamie. “Hey…I’ve gotta…hang back a little bit. Do you mind?”

Jamie stopped, causing the person behind her to bump into her. “Sorry,” she said, turning to the poor woman whose cap had flown off. Looking at Ryan, she asked, “What’s going on?”

“I’ve gotta sit…” she gestured to the rear of the procession, “…over there.”

“Why?”

“’Cause they said I have to. Sorry, babe. Gotta go.” She kissed her and tugged on Mia’s lei. “See ya.” Then she took off, running quickly until she had disappeared into the crowd.

Jamie stared after her, but she started to walk again, finally saying, “I never know what she’s gonna do next. For all I know, she’s singing the national anthem!”

Just before they entered, a panting, pink-cheeked Jordan ran up, wearing a black graduation gown and carrying a cap.

Mia started to jump into her arms, but Jordan saw the intent in her eyes and held up her hands. “Don’t, babe. I don’t wanna attract too much attention.”

Mia hugged her and shook her back and forth. “How’d you get here?”

“Ryan. Who else? I don’t know how she did it, but she saw me back there looking for you. I was trying to bring you more stockings,” she said, holding up a pair. “She tossed me the cap and gown and said, “Run and you can catch ’em. So I ran.”

“I’m so glad you’re with us,” Jamie said, squeezing her tightly. “Especially since Ryan ran off.” Struck by a thought, she gulped. “She didn’t give you her gown, did she?”

“No, she had one on.”

“Do you know where she went?”

“No idea. I was with her for about two seconds.”

“My mysterious lover,” Jamie said, smiling in spite of her mild annoyance.

They entered the backstage area, walked through an open curtain, and strode to the stage. Just as they hit the stage, Jamie’s cell phone rang. She opened it and said, “Yes?”

“Conor. We’re on the left side, about two rows up from the hunk of empty seats.”

She scanned the area and saw a group of tall, dark-haired men standing and waving frantically. “Look up there,” Jamie said to Mia and Jordan, pointing out the men.

Both women joined Jamie in waving and Mia yelled, “O’Flahertys rock” at the phone.

Jamie looked carefully and could see her mother, father, and grandfather waving in a much more proper, but no less enthusiastic fashion. She continued to wave, blowing kisses as she finished walking across the stage toward their seats. “Tell my family I love them,” she said.

“Why is Jordan with you guys?” Conor asked.

“Ask your sister.”

“Where is she?”

“I have no idea. Gotta go.” She hung up and waved one more time before being forced to concentrate on the directions they were being given. It took a long time for everyone to file into the seats, but they eventually got organized. A graduate walked up to the podium and announced, “I’m proud to introduce Chancellor Berdahl, our distinguished speakers, honored guests and graduates.”

A long line of people entered and made their way across the stage, and, to Jamie’s complete lack of surprise, Ryan took a seat in the front row.

“Why’s she up there?” Jordan asked.

“Not a clue. Welcome to my life. I’m always the last to know.”

“Are you sure she’s not the University Medalist?” Mia asked.

“Well, we were at the awards ceremony where they announced who it was, and it wasn’t Ryan, but they might have had a tabulating error. Nothing is impossible.”

After the usual singing of the national anthem, a student introduced the chancellor and he took the podium. He presented various medals and awards, then said, “The Anna Espenschade Prize to a graduating senior female athlete for excellence of attitude in athletic endeavor goes to Siobhán Ryan O’Flaherty, a member of the Academic All America basketball team, and a double major in molecular and cell biology and mathematics.”

Jamie clapped enthusiastically, turning to Mia and saying, “I knew she got that award, I just didn’t know that got her a seat on the dais. That’s not bad, considering what she could have been holding out on me.”

“What’s an Academic All America?” Mia asked.

“It should be All American,” Jamie said. “I’ve heard of it, but I have no idea who awards it. Of course, I didn’t know Ryan was one, but that’s par for the course.”

Jordan leaned over and said, “It’s All America, even though it sounds funny. The sports information directors choose teams of players for all the major sports.”

“Are you one?” Mia asked, giving Jordan one of her adoring looks.

“I was. Junior year. Before I met you.”

“Did you get a uniform?”

Jordan blinked. “No, honey. We didn’t have a real team. Just an honorary one.”

“Oh.” Mia looked disappointed. “I thought you’d get to play some other smart team.”

Giggling, Jordan shook her head. “I love your imagination.”

“I’m gonna look into getting you a smart girls volleyball uniform. You’d look cute.” She gazed back at the stage. “Speaking of cute…see how nice Ryan looks? She’s got girl shoes on. She knew she was gonna be on the dais. Even Ryan doesn’t have the guts to wear running shoes up there.”

Jordan leaned over and said, “That’s Jamie’s influence. Ryan actually thinks running shoes are perfect for any occasion.”

“Sad, but true,” Jamie agreed. “And she has her hair down, too. And it’s brushed perfectly. The little minx was just jerking me around.”

The chancellor introduced the University Medalist and the four runners up, but didn’t invite the winner to speak. Jamie looked in the program and said, “Isn’t she supposed to talk now?”

Mia looked at the booklet and said, “Yeah. Maybe she didn’t want to.”

“No way. There’s just no way. They’d never give the award to someone who didn’t want to speak. You have to apply and write a proposal and everything.”

The chancellor then introduced Secretary Albright, but as soon as he said her name, a group of people in the audience and a few graduates stood and started to boo and shout out things that none of the women could understand.

“I guess it wouldn’t be a Cal commencement without protesters,” Jamie said.

But these protesters were very loud and very disruptive. They only got worse as the campus police waded into the crowd and tried to remove them. It looked like the graduates were allowed to stay if they sat down, but everyone else was taken away—forcibly. People were kicking and screaming, and the police were struggling to carry the protesters out while the large crowd watched in stunned silence.

“Couldn’t they let ’em stay?” Mia asked quietly. “Albright has a microphone. She’d drown them out.”

“I don’t know,” Jamie said, shaking her head. “It’s hard to say what’s fair in a situation like this. They want to disrupt the event, and they’d probably run up on stage if they’d let ’em. I’m totally in favor of freedom of speech, but…if every person who had a complaint stood up and screamed, we’d never get anything done around here.”

“It sucks,” Mia said. “I hate to see the cops roughing those guys up.”

“It’s the guys who are making it worse,” Jordan observed. “If they’d walk out under their own steam, there wouldn’t be any problem. They’re the ones who started fighting.”

“They should be able to protest,” Mia said. “They think she’s killing babies, Jordy. If they really believe that, they have to stand up and say so.”

“I think they got just what they wanted,” Jordan said. “They wanted to make a statement and get thrown out. Now their pictures will be in the paper and people will talk more about them than they will about you guys who are graduating.”

“You’ve gotta stand up for what you believe in,” Mia said quietly.

“Sure you do,” Jordan said, “but there’s a way to make your point. Messing up your graduation isn’t the way.”

Mia folded her arms over her stomach and stared at the stage, not saying another word. Once the protesters had been removed, the chancellor finished introducing Secretary Albright. She took the podium and acknowledged the protests in good-humored fashion, smiling and saying, “It’s good to be in Berkeley!”

There were protesters still present, but the ones remaining hadn’t stood up or raised banners. They continued to heckle the Secretary as she gave her speech, but she kept going, never giving them the satisfaction of stopping to respond to them. In the middle of her speech a quiet drone sounded over the auditorium and everyone looked up to see a plane dragging a banner that read, “1.7 million Iraqis dead—End sanctions now.” The crowd noted the message and a hushed murmur rose up as people commented about it. The Secretary received a standing ovation from most of the crowd, with Mia notably refusing to stand.

Looking a little uncomfortable, Jordan looked at Jamie and shrugged. Secretary Albright walked along the row of people on the stage, shaking each person’s hand. But the University Medalist, Fadia Rafeedie, refused to look at her, shake her hand, or stand up. She sat, alone, while everyone else applauded the Secretary.

As soon as she’d made her way down the line, the Secretary left the stage. By the time everyone sat down again, a large portion of the audience had left, and the section reserved for reporters emptied out almost completely, probably as they hurried off to send their stories to their papers.

The chancellor took the podium again and finally introduced the University Medalist, who was greeted with temperate, cautious applause.

With a nod of acknowledgement, she began her remarks. “Thank you, that was way too generous, Chancellor Berdahl. It makes me sound a lot better than I am. I had a speech and it’s right here. It took me so long to draft it and I kept re-drafting it, and this morning I changed it again; but I’m just going to put it to the side and I’m going to talk from my heart, because what I witnessed here today, I have mixed feelings about.

“I don’t know why I’m up here articulating the viewpoints of my comrades out there who were arrested, and not them. It’s not because I got, you know, straight A’s or maybe it is. Maybe that’s the way the power structure works, but I’m very fortunate to be able to give them a voice. I think that’s what I’m going to do; so if you give me your attention, I’d really appreciate it.

“I was hoping to speak before Secretary Albright, but that was also a reflection of the power structure, I think, to sort of change things around and make it difficult for people who are ready to articulate their voice in ways they don’t usually get a chance to.

“So I’m going to improvise, and I’m going to mention some things that she didn’t mention at all in her speech but which most of the protesters were actually talking about. You know, I think it’s really easy for us to feel sorry for her. I was looking at my grandmothers who are actually in the audience—my grandmother and her sister—who weren’t really happy with all the protesters. I think they thought that wasn’t really respectful of them. Perhaps many of you didn’t as well because you came to hear her speak. But I think what the protesters did was not embarrass our university. I think they dignified it.”

As soon as she said that, a large number of graduates got up and ostentatiously walked out, going up the long aisles of the theater. Some looked angry, others sad or disappointed, but the display was upsetting to almost everyone. The crowd was very quiet, as opposed to the catcalls and shouts that had nearly drowned out Secretary Albright at some points.

Jamie strained her eyes to be able to make out the expression on Ryan’s face. It wasn’t easy to see her mouth, but the set of her shoulders and the stiffness of her body made it clear that Ryan was, at best, uncomfortable. Leaning over to Mia, Jamie said, “I hope Ryan doesn’t get up and deck her.”

“No shit!” Mia responded, her voice just loud enough to cause the woman in front of them to turn around and scowl at her. Mia smiled, cheerfully extending the middle finger of her right hand. The woman blinked, then quickly turned back around.

Jamie pinched Mia, then nudged her with her shoulder. “Will you behave?”

“I hate to have people supervise me. Like she never heard the word shit before.” She stuck her tongue out at the woman’s back, then turned to Jamie. “Do you really think Ryan might throw down with this chick?”

“No, not when you put it that way. I’m sure that Ryan’s pissed off about having this ceremony made into a political harangue, but she knows she’d make it worse by causing a scene. She’d never do that.”

“I don’t care what you apologists say. This chick has to say what’s on her mind if she really believes the government is killing people in her name.”

The medalist continued, talking about the government’s actions in Iraq and Colombia, and making the point that much of the trouble in the world was due to the U.S. government’s support of dictators whenever such an arrangement worked to its advantage.

Her speech was fairly short, and when she finished, several people stood and applauded her. But many of the graduates didn’t join in and even more members of the general audience were silent, glaring at the young woman.

“That just wasn’t right,” Jamie mumbled.

“This is Berkeley,” Mia said. “If we don’t have free speech here, where do we have it?”

“I don’t mind having people protest,” Jamie said. “But she had the honor of speaking for the class. You can’t hijack that for your own agenda.”

“But she believes we’re killing thousands of people. Her people.”

Jamie’s eyes took on an intensity that caused Mia to sit back in her seat. “Do you know how many people were killed in Congo this year?”

“I don’t know where it is, much less how many people were killed,” Mia said, smiling wryly. “I know it’s not in America.”

“It’s in Africa, and they think there might have been almost two million people killed. That’s a big deal. The U.S. could have and should have helped stop the genocide. And if we had gotten involved in Rwanda, also in Africa,” she added for Mia’s benefit, “most experts think the genocide in Congo wouldn’t have started.”

“Yeah, but—”

Jamie had a head of steam, and she kept going. “How many girls had their genitals mutilated this year in Africa? That’s at the top of my list. If I had this audience in front of me I could talk about that for an hour! Hell, how about the embargo in Cuba? We’ve been making Cubans live in squalor for a zillion years.” Jamie’s cheeks were flushed and she looked like she could go on all day.

“Easy, girl,” Mia said, playfully stroking her cheek.

“I’m just saying that there are so many issues in the world, so many things to be passionate about. Iran imposes the death penalty for homosexual behavior!”

“Wait a minute. Are we mad at Iraq or Iran? I get confused.”

Jamie’s outraged expression slowly morphed into a smile. “Both, I guess. But for different reasons. And the reasons change with the seasons. Stay tuned. The Middle East, South America, Central America—we prop up dictators when they do what we tell them, then overthrow them when they get out of line.”

“That’s what this chick is saying,” Mia reminded her.

“Right. And I agree with her. I don’t think sanctions are helping. But if I had to speak on international affairs, Iraq wouldn’t be where I’d start. She’s focused on it because she’s an Arab and it’s her people who are suffering. But there are things that are more important to me and you and every other person here. Hell, Ryan could talk for hours about the British in Northern Ireland, but she wouldn’t do it at the convocation.” She blew out a breath. “How did I get so damned agitated at my graduation?”

“Chill, James. Let’s put this crap out of our heads and focus on ourselves. That’s what I’m really good at.”

“You’re good at focusing on me,” Jordan reminded her, tickling the back of her neck.

“They’re playing ‘All Hail Blue and Gold,’” Jamie said. “No more speeches! Let’s see if we can sing along.”

“I don’t know the words,” Mia complained.

Jamie rolled up her program and hit Mia on the shoulder with it. “They’re printed in the program.”

Mia and Jordan turned to the proper page and tried to catch up. They were all smiling and Mia put an arm around Jamie and Jordan, looking at Jordan’s program to be able to sing.

All Hail Blue and Gold,

Thy colors unfold

O’er loyal Californians,

Whose hearts are strong and bold.

All Hail Blue and Gold,

Thy strength ne’er shall fail;

For thee we’ll die,

All Hail! All Hail!

All Hail Blue and Gold,

To thee we shall cling;

O’er golden fields of poppies,

Thy praises we shall sing.

All Hail Blue and Gold,

On Breezes ye sail;

Thy sight we love!

All Hail! All Hail!

By the end of the song they were all rocking side to side, singing at full voice. One quick look at Jordan had Mia in tears, and when Jamie saw her she started crying as well. Jordan put her arms around Mia, managing to slip a hand out to stroke Jamie’s hair. All around them the other graduates were celebrating—hugging, kissing, crying.

Mia dried her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. “That is, by far, the dumbest song I’ve ever heard! Why am I crying?”

“It’s not the song, it’s the setting,” Jamie said. “This is it—our last day as students.”

“It sure as hell isn’t!” Mia wailed. “I’ve still got finals, and so do you.”

Jamie’s face fell. “Why in the world do we have our graduation ceremony when we still have finals? Who’s in charge around here?”

“Obviously no one,” Jordan said, giggling. “I’m a semester away from graduating and I’m wearing a cap and gown.”

Mia hugged her with one arm. “I’m damned glad you’re here. It wouldn’t mean half as much if you weren’t with us.”

“Damned straight,” Jamie said, slapping Jordan on the back. “You should get a semester’s worth of credit for being on the Olympic team.”

“That might work if my major was volleyball,” Jordan said, an indulgent grin on her face. “But I haven’t learned much about architecture in Colorado Springs.”

“You’re going to grad school,” Mia sniffed. “You’ll learn everything there.”

“Grab the chancellor on the way out and put in a good word for me.” Jordan noticed the gleam in Mia’s eye and hastily added, “I’m totally kidding.”

“You’re no fun. I could probably have talked him into something.”

“Without a doubt,” Jordan agreed. “But I don’t mind taking another semester’s worth of credits. I’ve got all of my tough classes out of the way, so I can coast through what’s left.”

“Hey, we’re ready to rock,” Jamie said. Their row had begun to file out and they scampered along behind, all semblance of order ignored. They left via the top of the auditorium, and as they moved along Jamie caught sight of someone she immediately realized she hadn’t wanted to see. Sara Andrews was sitting just off the aisle, and even though she was looking at the stage and was wearing sunglasses, Jamie recognized her immediately.

What in the hell is she doing here? Did Ryan invite her? I’ll pop her one if she did—inviting Sara and giving away one of her precious tickets—and all without telling me. I’m sure Sara saw me. Sure of it! And where’s Ally? Is this just a little meet-up for Ryan and Sara?

She was fuming by the time they exited the auditorium. Friends and family were everywhere, creating such a crowd that Jamie held on to Mia’s hand just so she wouldn’t be swallowed up into the multitude. Jordan’s perspective was much better than Jamie’s or Mia’s and she called out, “Hey, I see some O’Flahertys over there. Way over there.”

Jamie jumped into the air, but she couldn’t see a thing. “Can they see you?”

“No, they’re not looking this way. But I can get us over there.” She looked around and said, “Let’s go to the right. Fewer people there. Then we can circle around and get to them.”

“Don’t lose sight of ’em,” Jamie warned.

“Stick with me. We’ll get there.”

They threaded their way through the throng, slowly heading toward the far exit—where fewer people were gathered. They’d made some progress when Jamie saw Sara leaving via that last exit. She dropped Mia’s hand and headed straight for her—with no conscious idea of why she was going after her or what she was going to do when she caught up. Surprising herself, she reached out and grasped the hem of Sara’s tailored suit jacket, pulling her nearly to a stop. Sara turned, and Jamie could see in her eyes that she hadn’t wanted to be spotted. Her smile was plastic and tentative. “Hi. Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” Jamie said. “I didn’t know you were going to be here. Couldn’t Ally make it?”

“Oh.” Sara looked around, as if Ally would appear. “I didn’t…I only had one ticket.”

“That’s kind of rude of Ryan,” Jamie said. “I hope Ally wasn’t offended.”

“Ryan?” Sara looked completely blank, then shook her head quickly. “Ryan didn’t invite me.”

“How’d you get a ticket?” Jamie knew she was being rude, but she didn’t seem able to control her tongue.

“Craigslist. Somebody who didn’t want to come sold his tickets.”

“But why…?” Jamie trailed off, seeing tears appear beneath the dark glasses. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry,” Sara sobbed, fumbling in her purse for a tissue. She found one and dabbed at her eyes. “I just couldn’t—ignore this. It’s been on my mind so much.” She was crying hard and Jamie couldn’t maintain her distance. She gingerly put her arms around Sara’s waist and squeezed her gently.

Sara returned the hug with much more feeling than Jamie had extended. Sara’s head was resting on Jamie’s shoulder while she shook from her tears. “I’ve made so many mistakes,” she said, her voice shaking. “And my mistakes have hurt Ryan so much.”

“Ryan’s fine,” Jamie said, her voice taking on an edge.

“I know she is,” Sara said, pulling back. “You’ve helped make her all right. But she wasn’t. She wasn’t for a long time. And that’s all my fault.” She shook her head, her shining hair shifting and draping across her shoulders. “I can’t stop thinking about how things might…” She stopped, looking like she wanted to say more.

“You’ve got to let go, Sara.” Jamie was staring at her hard, trying to see through the dark glasses. “Ryan has.” She had to acknowledge that was only partially true, but she knew in her soul that Ryan didn’t want to change the past.

“I have, for the most part. I swear I have, Jamie. I’m happy now, happier than I’ve been in my adult life. But when something like this comes up, I can’t stop from thinking about how different my life, Ryan’s life, would have been if I hadn’t been so spineless.”

“You were who you were. You weren’t ready to lose your family. It was different for Ryan. She knew she could be who she was, Sara. That makes a very big difference.”

“If only I had stood up to my mother when she told me that I wasn’t like Ryan—”

Jamie cut her off. “That sort of thinking is a waste of energy. You can’t change who you were. Focusing on the old stuff is keeping you from living your life. You’ve really gotta let go.”

Sara’s head dropped. “I know. I know I do. And it’s not like I want to change the present.” She lifted her eyes, peering out over the tops of her glasses. “I’m happy with Ally. I love her. I could never hurt her, even if Ryan was available. I just want to—”

“Change something that can’t be changed.” Jamie put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. “It’s over, Sara. You can be friends with her, but you’ve got to let go of the past or she’ll never be comfortable around you.”

“She’s not comfortable now, is she?”

“No, she’s not. I’ve been mulling this over for a while, and it’s becoming clear. I think she feels your discomfort, or your longing, or whatever it is. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know why she’s uncomfortable around you—she can be surprisingly dense about some things—but I know she is.”

“She’s pretty damned intuitive,” Sara said, a thin, wry smile showing.

“Yeah. Too much sometimes. But she feels a lot of things that she can’t put a name to. I think this is one of them.”

“I’m gonna try to let this go. This was the last thing we had in common—graduating from Cal. Maybe seeing her graduate will let me put an end to this.” She reached out and took Jamie’s hand. “Don’t tell her I was here, okay?”

Jamie took in a breath, realizing she’d already made up her mind not to tell Ryan. “I probably won’t. It would upset her, especially if I told her what we’ve talked about. But if I do, you know she’ll call you.”

“I really don’t want her to know, but if you feel like you have to be honest with her, I’ll understand.”

“We try to be honest. But sometimes…well, sometimes it’s better not to tell the whole truth.”

“Yeah. That’s something I’m good at. Ally doesn’t know I’m here and I’m not going to tell her. There are just some things you’ve got to work out for yourself.”

“That’s true,” Jamie said, “but if the things you hide hurt your relationship…”

“No, we’re doing well. Really, we are. This stuff with Ryan’s just like a scab that gets pulled off every once in a while. I really hope this was the last time.”

“I do too.” Jamie put her arm around Sara and pulled her close for a hug. “Sorry I was bitchy when I first saw you. I thought Ryan had invited you and not told me.”

“She’s not the type,” Sara said, smiling sadly. “She’s the most honest person I know.”

“Yeah, she is, but she has her faults.” She smiled. “We’re past that ‘you’re perfect’ stage already.”

“You have a good relationship. And I’m gonna do my best to stay out of it until I can be myself around Ryan. We’re not in high school any more, and I’ve got to try to stay in the present.”

“You’ll get there.” Jamie gave her another quick hug and said, “I’ve lost Jordan and Mia. You don’t see any O’Flahertys around, do you?”

“No, and I’m gonna leave before I do. Don’t worry, Ryan will find you.”

“I’m not worried,” Jamie said, smiling and feeling relaxed. “I know she will.”

PART EIGHT

MIA HAD PLANNED ahead. She knew there would be so many people milling around after the convocation that she’d never find her family, so she’d told them to meet her by the stage of the Greek. She felt bad about abandoning Jamie, but she knew Ryan would find her eventually. She was giggling and holding Jordan’s hand when she spotted her father and brother. “Dad! Peter!” She waved vigorously.

As the two Christopher men waved back, Jordan found herself staring. They looked so much alike and so startlingly different from Mia and Anna Lisa that it seemed impossible the men were actually related to Mia. When they got closer, she saw that Peter had Mia’s smile and that the siblings’ smiles were very similar to their father’s. She also noted that Adam’s smile looked more forced than genuine, and she was immediately worried that her unexpected presence was the reason.

Mia was fiercely hugging her father and then her brother, Jordan standing by her side, feeling very uncomfortable. “Hi,” she said, extending her hand to the senior Christopher. “I’m Jordan.”

Mia released her brother and put an arm around Jordan’s waist. “I can’t believe the two most important men in my life haven’t met the most important woman! Guys, this is Jordan Ericsson. Jordan this is my dad, Adam, and my brother, Peter.”

Adam continued to smile tentatively, but Peter wrapped his arms around Jordan and gave her a warm hug. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to come to Colorado to meet you.”

“No worries; it’s cool. It’s good to meet you, Peter.”

“Where’s Mom?” Mia asked.

“She’s still sitting down,” Adam said, gesturing toward the upper tier of seats. “Your grandmother didn’t want to be caught up in the crowd, so they’re waiting for us.”

“Right. Let’s go get ’em.” Mia started to walk, but Adam didn’t move.

“Uhm, maybe you’d like to say hello first, Mia.”

“We just said hello, Dad.” Grinning, she turned and looked at him, then gave Peter a quizzical glance. “What’s going on?”

“Maybe we could talk…alone for a moment,” Adam said, looking embarrassed.

“No.” Mia crossed her arms over her chest. “Jordan’s part of the family. I don’t have any secrets from her.”

“Maybe your father does,” Jordan said quietly.

“Too bad.” Mia glared at him, hands on her hips. “What’s going on?”

“Well, your grandparents are having a party for you, honey and they…and your mother weren’t expecting Jordan. I thought she…you,” he said, turning to Jordan and smiling that false smile again, “weren’t able to be here.”

“Senator Evans and I hitched a ride with Secretary Albright,” Jordan said. “He really went out of his way to make sure I got to come.”

Adam shook his head, looking terribly confused. “Secretary Albright?”

“Long story, Dad,” Mia said. “So you weren’t expecting Jordan to come. What about it?”

“Uhm, I don’t think your mother is quite…ready to have you and Jordan meet your grandparents yet. As…” he made a vague gesture with his hand, “…a couple.”

“Well, we are a couple,” Mia said, her chin sticking out defiantly.

“I know, honey, but you know how your grandparents are…”

“Nonna will flip,” Peter said. “And if Nonna flips, Mom’s gonna flip even harder. I think Dad’s trying to avoid the drama.”

Looking ill, Adam said, “When all three of you are upset it can get a little intense.”

“So, I’m supposed to what? Leave Jordan in the parking lot?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I just thought that you might be willing to wait a little before you tell your grandparents about your relationship. If Nonna thinks Jordan is just a friend she’ll be much easier to deal with.”

Mia’s color was rising and she looked like she was about to blow. “Look, Dad, you’ve chosen to let Mom’s moods run your life, but I don’t do that. Jordan’s my lover and we have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.”

“That’s a little harsh,” Adam said, scowling. “Just because I don’t like to set your mother off doesn’t mean I let her run my life.”

“Don’t give Dad a hard time,” Peter said, stroking Mia’s shoulder in a soothing fashion. “He’s only trying to keep the peace.”

She shrugged off his hand. “You’re as bad as he is. You both think that you can humor her and she’ll be nice. But that doesn’t work half of the time. You’ve gotta do what you want and let the chips fall!”

“Mia,” Jordan said, her voice a little louder than it had been. “Mia!”

Mia whirled and stared at her, stunned by the atypical volume. “What?”

“Can I talk to you…alone?”

Blinking slowly, Mia nodded. They moved away, out of earshot of Adam and Peter. “Don’t tell me you want to give in, too!” Mia said, glaring.

“I’m not giving in to anyone,” Jordan said quietly. “Including you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just what I said. I’m perfectly happy to let the world know about our relationship, but I don’t have to make it into a huge issue. Your mother and your grandmother are obviously both pretty emotional people. Why would you want to make this into a bigger deal than it has to be?”

“What are you talking about? I just want to act naturally!”

“But you know that will stir them both up! And you’ll ruin the party they’ve planned for you. If you want your grandparents to accept us, you’ll talk to them…alone. You’ll explain our relationship and help them understand. It’s childish to think you can go to their house and spring it on them, Mia. It’s really childish.”

Mia’s cheeks were pink and she looked like she was ready to scream, but she took and held a breath for a few moments and then let it out slowly. “Maybe you’re right,” she said. “Talking to them would be more mature.”

“That’s my girl.” Jordan smiled warmly and held Mia in her arms, rocking her slowly. “Don’t be like your mom and your grandmother, baby. Don’t explode first and then have to pick up the pieces. Think first…then act.”

“You’re right,” Mia murmured into the fabric of Jordan’s blouse. “There’d be a huge scene and we’d be thrown out of the house.”

“That’s not how I want to remember today. I want to remember how wonderful it was that I could be here to see you and Jamie and Ryan in your caps and gowns, and how proud I was of you. That’s what I want to think of when I think about today. Not how hard it was to catch a bus back to Berkeley from…where do your grandparents live?”

“San Mateo.”

“From San Mateo,” Jordan said, kissing Mia’s head.

Mia looked up at her, smiling impishly. “But having a big fight and getting thrown out would be more memorable. You’ve gotta give me that.”

Jordan kissed her, lingering a moment. “I’ll give you that,” she said when she drew back for a breath. “But those aren’t my kinda memories.”

“You’ll get used to ’em,” Mia predicted. “You can’t be in my family and not have a few knockdown drag-out memories.”

“Oh, boy!” Jordan’s enthusiasm was patently fake, but she put on a big smile and raised her fists to sell the act.

“Come on.” Mia took her by the hand and started to walk back to her family.

Jordan cleared her throat. “Uhm, Mia, to be honest, I don’t think I have the time to go to San Mateo and still get back for my flight.”

“Oh, Jordy! Do you have to go so soon?” Mia looked up at her, obviously hurt.

“They have to route the plane back to the Air Force Academy to pick up the Vice President. If I leave now I can fly back to Colorado Springs directly. If not, I have to take the last plane to Denver and then figure out a cheap way to get home from there. It’ll be a much bigger deal.”

“But you’ll miss my party.”

Jordan gently stroked Mia’s cheek, then let her hand fall to rest on her shoulder. She massaged the back of her neck, smiling when Mia’s eyes began to close. “You know I’d stay if I could, but the last plane is at nine o’clock. I’d get to your party and have to come back almost immediately.”

“You can’t take tomorrow off, huh?”

Jordan cradled Mia’s head in her hand, looking into her eyes. “No, baby. I can’t. But there’s no place I’d rather be than with you. You know that, right?”

Smiling, Mia nodded. “Yeah. I know that. You’re stuck on me.”

“That’s the absolute truth. And if I could, I’d never leave your side.”

“But you can’t.” Mia stuck out her lower lip. “You’ve gotta go be an adult.”

“I don’t like being an adult, since it means we’ll be apart for over a week. That sucks.”

“Yeah. But you’ll be back here next week. And you can see me actually get a diploma!”

“That’ll be cool,” Jordan agreed. “And if you wanna talk to your grandparents between now and then, I’ll gladly let ’em take a swing at me.”

“My grandfather’s not the violent type. And my grandmother’s more likely to make you wanna kill yourself than get her hands dirty. My dad’s parents don’t get too wired about anything. They’re just glad I’m not in jail.”

“Those sound like good grandparents, keeping the important things in perspective. Now give me a good kiss and let’s see if your father will drop me off at the Oakland airport.”

“If you’re lucky, Peter drove too. He and I can drop you off, and you can skip out without having to endure my grandmother’s always rude questions. And after that speech…she’s gonna be breathing fire!”

“Gosh, you make her sound like a real peach! I can’t wait to meet her.”

“She’s, well, she’s my grandmother. She’s one of a kind.”

“So are you. And you’re mine,” Jordan said, taking Mia in her arms and kissing her for all she was worth.

Jamie circled the perimeter of the crowd, assuming that a gaggle of O’Flahertys would stand out if she had the proper perspective. She finally found her favorite O’Flaherty—standing with Jackie from the softball team and what she assumed was Jackie’s family. “There you are,” Jamie said, walking up to the group.

“Didn’t Ryan look like a princess sitting up there with all the bigwigs?” Jackie asked.

“Oh, she’s a princess all right.” Jamie tucked an arm around her lover’s waist.

“I was looking for you,” Ryan said. “But I found Jackie first.”

Jackie smiled. “And I’m glad I got the chance to talk to you, but we’ve gotta go. My parents have to drive home after we have some dinner.”

“Will we see you all in Fresno?” Ryan asked the Maloneys.

“Oh, yes,” Jackie’s mother said. “We’re trying to get every ticket we can get our hands on. We have so many relatives who want to come.”

Ryan slapped Jackie on the back. “It’ll be nice to have the stands full of your family. We need to have a rooting section.”

“Most of our friends root for Fresno State,” Mrs. Maloney said. “But we’re not going to let them into the stadium if they don’t switch to our side.”

“Good for you,” Ryan said, smiling. “We’ll see you in a few days.”

Ryan shook hands with Jackie’s parents and they departed, with Jamie giving her a pinch. “I don’t even get introduced?”

“Oh! Sorry. I’ve talked to so many people I can’t keep track of who I know and who you don’t.”

“That’s okay. It was nice to see Jackie in her cap and gown. She looks like her mom.”

“Yeah, she does. Your mom and dad and your grandfather are with my family. Let’s go gather them up and head over to your mom’s.”

“No comment about the speakers?”

Ryan looked thoughtful. “Not about whether it was right or wrong for her to do that. I debated the issue with myself all during the ceremony; I’m done. But I thought it stunk that she threw away her approved speech and went into her harangue. That’s cheating. She should have written the speech she wanted to deliver and been up front about it.”

“I’m sure it will be a topic of conversation at the party. My father will bring it up.”

“Or mine will.” Ryan rolled her eyes. “He has no patience at all for people who disrespect authority figures. He must have been simmering.”

“Mine just doesn’t want the administration made to look bad.”

“Your cynicism’s showing,” Ryan teased. “Better tuck it back in before we meet up with the families.”

They finally located their mingled family by following the hearty applause and enthusiastic hoots from the O’Flaherty brothers when they got within sight. By the time they reached the crowd, Ryan was blushing and Jamie was grinning with pleasure. “We’ve got a celebrity in our midst,” Jamie said, pushing Ryan forward.

“It’s no big deal.” Ryan had on her “aw, shucks” expression, and Jamie delighted in seeing her look both humble and secretly pleased to be acknowledged.

“Why don’t you tell us these things?” Martin demanded as he pulled his daughter towards him for a big hug. “We’re always the last to know.”

“You’re tied with me, Martin,” Jamie said. “We were waiting in line to enter and she just took off. I thought maybe she’d decided to skip the whole thing.”

“Such a girl you are,” Martin said fondly, cuffing her on the chin.

“It was no big deal,” Ryan said. “I don’t even know why I had to sit on the dais. Jocks get enough praise around here.”

Brendan and Maggie wrestled Ryan away from her father, and they both hugged and kissed her. “You looked so impressive sitting up there with the chancellor,” Maggie said. “We’ve got it all on tape.” She held up her camcorder, while Ryan rolled her eyes. “We’ve got you and Mia and Jordan, too, Jamie. But we couldn’t figure out why Jordan was with you.”

“I have no idea. As a matter of fact, neither does Jordan. Ask Ryan.”

All eyes turned to Ryan. “Well, I saw a guy who had some extra caps and gowns for the people who inevitably show up without one, and I slipped him a couple of bucks. I thought Jordan should be able to be with us—even if she isn’t getting her degree yet.”

“You did good,” Jamie said, beaming at her. “Jordan was really happy.”

Ryan unzipped her gown, revealing her strange outfit. “That’s quite unique,” Maeve said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman in shorts, a T-shirt, knee-high nylons and pumps. I don’t think it’ll ever be a fashion hit, though.”

Ryan kicked off the shoes and pulled off the nylons. “Ahh,” she said, taking in a deep breath. “Now I feel like myself again.”

“Put those shoes back on immediately,” Martin ordered. “We haven’t taken pictures yet, and you’ll not be barefoot in them.”

Jamie stood next to her partner and put her arm around her. “I don’t know why I worried about you looking silly in pictures. I should have known your father would make you behave.”

The party at Catherine’s was the smallest one Jamie had ever attended with the O’Flaherty clan. Only Ryan’s immediate family was there, and for once that didn’t mean cousins of cousins. Martin, Maeve, Brendan, Maggie, Conor and Rory joined Jim, Catherine and Charlie Evans for a remarkably quiet fete.

“There’s a whole different vibe when the cousins don’t show up, isn’t there?” Ryan asked Jamie once they were all served a drink by the bartender Catherine had hired.

Jamie straightened the placket on the nicely ironed blouse Ryan had changed into. “It’s weirdly quiet,” she agreed. “I guess Caitlin alone makes up half of the noise at most parties.”

“The bartender would have his hands full if the cousins were all here. He’d need serious back-up.”

Martin and Maeve were standing a few feet to Ryan’s right when Jim came over to them. “You must have been very proud of Ryan being on the dais today,” he said.

Ryan could see her father stiffen at Jim’s mere presence. “I’m always proud of her,” he said curtly.

Maeve looked at her husband expectantly, and when he didn’t elaborate, she did. “Of course we’re always proud of her, but today was very special. And Jamie looked very wise in her cap and gown.”

“Yes, she did, but I’m sure she’d rather have been up on the dais with Ryan.” He chuckled, obviously trying to ingratiate himself.

“There’s nothing to those awards,” Martin said snappishly. “Jamie’s as bright as a new penny. And she’s a wonderful golfer. She’s not a bit inferior to Siobhán.”

“No, of course she’s not,” Jim said, looking perplexed. “I just meant that, well, Ryan’s really made a mark at Cal.”

“So has Jamie.” Martin crossed his arms over his chest, looking like he was spoiling for a fight.

Ryan closed the distance between her and her father. “It was a nice ceremony, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Martin said, “until that self-centered girl had to make a fool of herself. The very idea of being asked to speak at a ceremony like that and turning it into a holy show.”

“I thought it was very inappropriate,” Jim said. “Secretary Albright didn’t deserve that kind of treatment.”

Ryan saw her father’s head start to nod, then he abruptly reversed himself and said, “Well, she’s a young girl. I’m sure she thought she was doing the right thing.”

That was all Ryan could take. She put her arm around him and said, “Let’s go see if Catherine needs help in the kitchen.”

As odd as the request was, Martin was unable to refuse the mere possibility that Catherine needed help, so he compliantly went along with his daughter. Maeve smiled stiffly as Jim said, “I don’t think he likes me.”

Jim wandered over to where Conor was sitting and asked, “I was going to step outside for a cigar? Care to join me?”

“Do you have an extra?”

“Sure do.” He reached into his suit jacket and drew out a worn leather cigar case, flipped it open and showed Conor three neatly lined up cigars.

Conor removed one of the cigars and whistled through his teeth. “Montecristo. ‘D’ Edición Limitado 2000.” He held the cigar to his nose and inhaled. “Nice. Very nice.” Again he looked the cigar over. “Are these legal?”

“It’s not legal to import Cuban cigars into the U.S.,” Jim said, not answering the question.

“Are these Cuban?”

Jim rolled his eyes, obviously exasperated. “Gee, Conor, I don’t know. Do you want to smoke one or not?”

“Sure. Yeah.” He stood up. “I’d just enjoy it more if I knew it was illegal.” He followed Jim outside, standing on the front steps while Jim bored a hole in each cigar with a punch he had on a keychain, then lit first Conor’s, then his own.

“This is a Lonsdale,” Jim said, thoughtfully blowing out a stream of smoke. “One of my favorites.”

“I don’t know anything about cigars,” Conor said, “but this one tastes great. Almost like cocoa.”

“Yeah. Also a little vanilla.”

“It’s good. Very good. I’m surprised at how much smoother this is than the smaller one I usually buy. I thought a smaller cigar would be milder. ”

Jim nodded. “Common misconception. A small ring gauge cigar burns hotter and harsher than a large one. If you only smoke occasionally, I’d go with a large gauge and a medium body. And,” he added, smiling slyly, “it helps to have a good supplier.”

“That I don’t have. I buy from a place that doesn’t even have a humidor.”

Jim made a sweeping motion with his cigar. “That’s a waste of money. There are some very good shops in the city. I can give you a couple of names.”

“Thanks. I don’t buy cigars very often, but I’d do it more if they tasted like these.”

“Well, you can’t get these around here. But you won’t taste a big difference between this and a well-made cigar from the Dominican Republic.”

Conor studied the cigar in the lamplight. “I could get used to this.”

“Rumor has it that you’re getting used to going to the opera and the symphony.” Jim took a puff off his cigar, his eyes narrowing. “I didn’t know you were a member of the cognoscente.”

“I don’t know what that is, so I don’t think I’m a member.”

“That’s someone who has refined tastes, someone who appreciates the good life.”

“Oh.” Conor nodded. “Then I guess that is me. How do you say it again?”

Jim gritted his teeth and pronounced the word again. “Cognoscente.”

“Right. Is that Spanish?”

“Italian. Catherine speaks Italian. She can tutor you in the pronunciation.” He glared at the younger man, but Conor was obliviously puffing on his cigar. “Why are you going out with Catherine?” he finally asked, a little louder and a lot more possessively than he’d intended.

Coughing on the smoke he swallowed, Conor caught his breath and said, “She needs someone to hang out with. I like going to those things.”

“How many times had you been to the opera before Catherine took you?”

“Never.”

“The symphony?”

“Never.”

“Where else have you been with her?”

Conor squared his shoulders and narrowed his eyes. “Why are you interested?”

“Pardon me?”

“I asked why you’re interested.” Conor stood his ground, not letting Jim’s age or position intimidate him.

“I was married to the woman for over twenty years! I’d still be married to her if she hadn’t filed for divorce.”

“And…?”

“Don’t act stupid,” Jim sneered. “You wouldn’t like it if I took up with one of your ex-girlfriends. Especially if you were still in love with her.”

Conor’s posture relaxed and he put the cigar to his lips, looking at Jim through the smoke. “I guess you’re right about that. But I like hanging out with her, and she likes it too. That’s as far as it goes.”

Jim scanned Conor’s eyes, as if he was trying to find the truth in them. “You’re not interested in her?”

With a short burst of laughter, Conor said, “What idiot wouldn’t wanna go out with Catherine? But she hasn’t ever expressed an interest in me.”

“Just biding your time, huh?” Jim’s expression was malevolent.

“Nope. Catherine doesn’t seem to need anything more than an escort. And that’s what I am.”

“Keep it that way.”

Conor laughed, not showing a flicker of intimidation. “Really? Why? Are you gonna try to scare me off like you did with my sister? That worked well.”

His instinct was to lash out in reaction to Conor’s impudence, but Jim took a few seconds to think first. He chose to rein in his temper and be honest. “It was wrong of me to give Ryan such a hard time, but I was just trying to protect my daughter. Your sister had a very checkered past, and I didn’t want Jamie to be another notch in her—whatever. But Catherine…Catherine is in a different category. And I don’t want you to get close to her. I mean it, Conor.”

“Are you honestly threatening me?” Conor bent over and carefully put his cigar out on the step. When he stood, he leaned in close and said, “You don’t scare me. And if I told Catherine what you just said, she’d pop her cork.” He put the cooled cigar in the breast pocket of his shirt and patted it. “I think I’ll enjoy this with a more sociable crowd.”

Conor put his hand on the door and Jim said, “I’m not kidding, Conor. Leave Catherine alone.”

“I’m not the one you should be worrying about, Jim.” He faced him and added, “I’m surprised you don’t know that already. Haven’t your hired dicks told you every move she makes?” He opened the door and started to walk inside, but he paused to ask, “Does your new girlfriend know you still have it bad for Catherine? Or is it just that you can’t be faithful to anyone? Maybe you ought to spend more time working on that and less trying to control someone you basically threw away.”

As soon as Conor closed the door behind him, Jim kicked the step and muttered, “The fucking O’Flaherty family. There has to be a way to ship them back to Ireland.”

Catherine found an opportune moment and pulled Jamie aside. “I have a few presents for you and Ryan, but I didn’t want to give them to you with so many people here.”

Jamie’s eyebrows rose. “What kind of presents?”

Laughing, Catherine said, “Oh, nothing risqué. But I know the O’Flaherty’s don’t often give presents and I didn’t want to make them feel uncomfortable.”

Jamie put her arm around her mother and hugged her. “You’re one of the nicest people I know.”

Catherine impulsively threw both of her arms around Jamie and held on tight. Her voice breaking, she said, “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Seeing that her mother was on the verge of tears, Jamie took her by the hand and discreetly snuck out of the living room. They went into a lovely room that served as a den, although the space was much more elegant than the word conveyed. Jamie sat down on one of the two sofas and Catherine sat next to her. “I’m very sorry for the way I’ve been treating you, Mom. I hope…well, I hope that you know I’ve just been butting in because of how much I care about you.”

Catherine gazed at Jamie for a moment, then reached up and delicately touched her cheek, then her hair. “I know how much you care for me. But sometimes the things you say aren’t very loving. They’re…humiliating.”

Tears sprang to Jamie’s eyes. “They are? But I didn’t ever mean for the things I said to hurt you, Mom. Really!”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Catherine said, continuing to stroke her daughter’s face. “But some of the things you say do hurt me. I sometimes feel that you’re belittling me, that you’re taking the moral high ground. And that hurts me deeply.”

Jamie dropped her head and sighed, trying to keep from crying. “I love you, Mom, I really do. And I just…I just want the very best for you. I want you to have someone who loves you as much as Ryan loves me.” She looked up, tears staining her cheeks. “That’s all I want. I desperately want you to feel that.”

“Shh,” Catherine said, wiping the tears away with her fingers. She wrapped her arms around Jamie and rocked her gently. “I want the same thing, honey. I just need to find what I need in my own way. I know myself better than you might think.”

“I know, I know,” Jamie sighed, her voice muffled by Catherine’s body. “And I know it’s not my business who you date. I just can’t see you getting what you want from Giacomo.”

“Maybe in the ten minutes you’ve spent with him, you didn’t get to know him as well as I do.” She loosened her grasp and smiled when Jamie looked up at her. “Yes, I’m teasing you. But the truth is that you don’t know him at all. And you don’t know what I want and what I need. So we need to put this behind us, sweetheart. I don’t want you to feel bad about expressing yourself, but I also don’t want to feel that you’re looking down on me.” She bent her head and kissed the crown of Jamie’s head repeatedly. “I love you.”

Jamie sat up and kissed both of Catherine’s cheeks. “You know, when I was just becoming friends with Ryan, we had this same kind of thing happen between us. I wanted her to want something that she wasn’t interested in. I pushed her so much she nearly fell in love with another woman.” She chuckled softly. “I would’ve hung myself if that’d happened. I should have learned my lesson then.”

“And what was the lesson?”

“To learn how to support the people I care for,” Jamie said, looking into her mother’s eyes. “And I care for you very, very much, Mom. I’m going to really try my best to be supportive. No more snarky comments. I promise.”

Catherine hugged her again. “You can slip once in a while, but I’d love to feel that you support me, even when I don’t do what you’d like.”

“I promise I’ll do my best.”

“And I know you mean it. Now, go find Ryan and meet me in my room. I’ve got a few things for each of you.”

Jamie had Ryan by the hand, forcefully pulling her into Catherine’s spacious bedroom. “I don’t need any presents,” Ryan was saying. She reached out and grabbed on to the doorframe, acting as if she was being led to her execution.

Catherine looked up in alarm, but she saw that the bright, blue eyes were full of fun. “I hate to torture you, Ryan, but Jamie’s used to getting presents. It would be odd to fill the car up with presents just for her, so play along for her sake.”

Ryan let go of the door and gave Catherine a generous hug. “Oh, all right. But you needn’t think I enjoy this.” She tried and failed to look gruff, then burst into a childish giggle. “I really love getting presents. I never got to vote when my family decided we didn’t need gifts to commemorate events.”

“Marvelous,” Catherine said. “I ordered something special for both of you, but it’s not here yet. I hope it’ll arrive in a few days.”

“That’s fine,” Ryan said. “We’ll have another reason to want you to rush home.”

A brief look of sadness flitted across Catherine’s features, then she went into her closet and started to bring out shopping bags full of…books. Jamie and Ryan exchanged puzzled glances, but Catherine explained all when she said, “I know how hard it’s been for each of you to read for pleasure. So I went to that nice bookstore by your house and asked a young woman to find every significant work of fiction from the last four years for you, Jamie.”

Jamie squealed with delight, taking some of the books out of the bags. “What a fantastic gift! And I’ll have a year to read them all. Thanks so much, Mom!”

She hugged and kissed her mother, while Catherine beamed at the enthusiastic reaction her gift had brought.

“And for you, Ryan, I bought quite a few books on biology, genetic research, and math. Then I spoke to someone at your library and ordered some journals for you.” She took out a list and read, “Nature, Bulletin of Mathematical Biology, The Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences…”

“P-NAS,” Ryan interrupted, grinning.

Catherine looked perplexed. “Pardon?”

“That’s a really popular journal. That’s what they call it at school. Math humor,” she added, grinning.

“I have a few more on this list, but I’m not sure they’re the ones you read. I want you to go through here and add anything you’d like.”

Ryan shook her head, laughing. “Catherine, all of these are available at the library. I don’t need my own copies.”

“Nonsense. You need to have fun this year. Sitting in the library for hours at a time to keep up with your field isn’t any fun.”

Ryan looked as if she’d been hit in the head. “I won’t be on campus. I won’t even have library access.”

Jamie tucked an arm around her waist. “We can pay for a library access card if you want one, honey.”

“Damn.” Ryan plopped down, still a little stunned. “I’ve always been a student.” She looked up at Jamie. “What am I if I’m not in school?”

“You’re a post-grad, pre-grad,” Jamie teased. “You’re post graduation, but pre grad school. There are thousands of us.”

“There are?”

“Sure. Lots of people don’t know exactly what they want to do, or they don’t have the money for grad school. I’ll bet most of our class is in a kinda limbo.”

“Nobody I know,” Ryan said. “Everyone I’ve talked to is going to grad school in the fall. I’ve been ducking my professors for months because they’ve been harassing me about not going on.”

Jamie chuckled. “Everyone I know is just kinda coasting. Hoping someone tells them what to do now.”

“Maybe that’s one difference between English majors and math majors,” Catherine said.

“One of many,” Jamie said, kissing Ryan on the top of the head. “Just one of many.”

Jim stayed outside so long he was sure someone would miss him. But he was well aware that he wasn’t particularly important at this, or any other party that Catherine threw. Given how little most of the O’Flahertys cared for him, he considered just leaving. But he had a plan, and he didn’t want to give up on it without a fight. At around eight o’clock he went inside, sidled up to Catherine and said, “I’m going to tag along with Secretary Albright on her flight. Would you like a ride to the airport?”

“Oh.” She looked at him in confusion for a moment. “I have a limo scheduled, but…” She looked at her watch. “I suppose I have time to cancel.”

“Or…” He smiled, trying to put as much charm into the expression as possible. “We could take your limo together and I could meet the Secretary at the airport. Then you and I would have a little private time to catch up.”

“Do we need to catch up?” she asked, smiling inscrutably.

“Well, I suppose there’s nothing earth shattering…”

He looked a little flustered, and she took pity on him. “That’ll be nice. The limo should be here in about half an hour. We’d better start saying our goodbyes.”

They each made the rounds separately, with Jim finishing the task well before Catherine, since he skipped all of the O’Flaherty men. He caught Marta’s eye and asked her for Catherine’s bags, knowing that they’d be ready. As expected, she rolled them into the entryway moments later.

Catherine was in a corner, having a private chat with Jamie, and Jim tried to stop himself from being jealous. Just over a year ago, he’d have been the one that Jamie went out of her way to save a little extra time for. Watching her and Catherine saying their tearful goodbyes, he wished he could turn back the clock—not only to regain the relationship he and Jamie had enjoyed, but to have another chance at being a real family.

Jamie and Catherine walked over to him and in a moment, Ryan was right next to them. It seemed virtually impossible to speak to Jamie without Ryan hovering, although Jim noted that Ryan gave Catherine alone time with Jamie. Jamie grasped Ryan’s hand and tucked it around her waist, then leaned against her slightly. “We’ll see you next week, right, Dad?”

“Right. I’m not sure when I’ll come back, but I’ll definitely be at your graduation. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He saw the look on Catherine’s face and had a very brief moment of regret for having said that. But he truly felt that way and he wanted to make sure both Jamie and Catherine knew it.

“You’re not going to stay all week, are you?” Jamie asked.

“No, I’ve got a lot to do next week. Oh!” he said, turning to Ryan. “I meant to tell you I won’t be here for your graduation. Is that all right?”

“Sure. No problem. Besides, I’m gonna have to miss one of mine. And I probably won’t get home in time for Mia’s. Your being here today was really nice, Jim. We both appreciated it.”

“My pleasure. Well, are you ready, Catherine?”

“I just have to get my bags.”

“Marta brought them out. She has your purse and a raincoat, too.”

“Then I’m really ready.” She peeked out the window and said, “The limo’s here.” Turning to Jamie she hugged her fiercely and whispered, “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’ll miss you too, Mom. I hope you have a great time.”

“Thanks.” Catherine pulled back and kissed her on both cheeks. Then she released her and hugged and kissed Ryan. “Take care of my baby for me.”

“I will. We’ll see you soon. Have fun.”

Catherine nodded and walked to the entryway, while Jim hurriedly gave Ryan a quick, relatively formal hug, and a longer, more paternal one with Jamie. Then he dashed over to Catherine and they both waved at the small crowd as they walked out.

On the sidewalk, Catherine took Jim’s arm while the driver carried her bags. They got into the back and Jim instructed him about their respective terminals, then closed the privacy glass. “That was a nice party you threw,” he said, loosening his tie. “I think the girls enjoyed themselves.”

“Yes, I think they did. I’m surprised they didn’t want to let loose with their friends, but they both act older than so many of their peers. I wonder if being committed to one another contributes to that.”

“Oh, I think Jamie’s been older than her years since she was a child. I don’t think that’s true for Ryan, though. I think she’s got a lot more kid in her than Jamie does.”

“I see that side of her,” Catherine nodded, “especially when she’s with her various teams. She’s quite young when she’s in her sports-mode.”

“Speaking of being young…” he said, fidgeting a bit in the leather seat. “This is embarrassing, but I was hoping you could do me a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

Jim had a moment of nostalgia for the days when she would have answered “yes” without a second thought. Those days were clearly over. “Could you recommend a good plastic surgeon in the city?”

Her eyebrows rose dramatically. “For you?”

“Yes, for me. I spent too much time in the sun when I was young. And I don’t have the coloring for sun. I’d like to get rid of some of the lines around my eyes.”

Clearly trying to hide a smirk, Catherine said, “I’ve heard of a few good doctors in the city. I’ll look them up and send you their names and numbers.”

“It’s not funny,” he said, a little sharply. “You don’t have a line on your face.”

“Maybe I’ve already seen those doctors.”

“Have you?”

“No!” Now she looked insulted. “I’d think you’d be able to tell if I’d had surgery.”

“I don’t think I could,” he admitted. “You look better every time I see you. I don’t know if you’re just happy or if you’ve had something done.”

“I’m happy.” She looked at him for a moment and said, “Part of what makes me happy is going to Italy to see Giacomo.”

He felt a tightness in his gut. “Oh, that’s why you’re not going to be home for Jamie’s graduation.”

“Yes, but that was totally inadvertent. I thought I’d scheduled my trip properly so I would be here for both of her ceremonies, but I made a mistake. I offered to cancel but…” She smiled at him. “You know how Jamie is. She insisted that she didn’t want me to.”

“Sure. She’d say that.” He looked at her briefly, seeing that he’d hurt her but knowing he couldn’t undo his remark. Before stopping to think it through, he said, “You must really care for this guy.”

“I wouldn’t go all the way to Italy to see him if I didn’t.”

She seemed defensive, and he tried to think of a way to get her to open up a little. “It was something to see Jamie in her cap and gown, wasn’t it?” He knew that was out of left field, but Jamie was one of the few things he knew they could agree on.

“Yes. It was—rather odd.” She took a breath and ran her hands through her hair, ordering it. “She looked oddly young, didn’t she?” He gave her a puzzled look and she continued. “Much of the time she seems so mature and adult, but being in her cap and gown made her look young. I can’t explain it any better. It’s just an impression that I got. That’s what I’ll remember about today.”

“I’m very proud of her. She’s a remarkable young woman.” He gave her a fond gaze. “That’s mostly thanks to you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, making a dismissive hand gesture. “You and Marta and Elizabeth had a lot more to do with her development than I did.”

“That’s absurd!”

He said it so loudly that Catherine flinched. “That’s how I feel.”

“You spent a lot of time with her, Cat. You had a good, strong relationship, no matter how you try to rewrite history.”

“Oh, we had a good relationship, but I don’t think she regarded me as maternal. I think it was more…is there a feminine term for avuncular?”

He chuckled. “Not that I know of. And if there were, it wouldn’t apply to you. You were her mother and you were a darned good one.”

Raising an eyebrow, she cocked her head and asked, “Why are you trying to butter me up?”

“I’m not. I’m just saying how I feel.”

“You’ve never spent much time praising my maternal skills. What’s on your agenda?”

“Damn!” He stared at her, offended. “Do you think I’m always an asshole?”

She shrugged, hurting him even more. “I don’t know, Jim. I suppose I just don’t trust you. I’m a little suspicious of your motives, even when I don’t have a particular reason to be.”

“So I shouldn’t even bother trying to have a civil conversation with you? Does my mere presence annoy you?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” she sighed. “I’m not trying to be rude, I just have to be honest. You destroyed my trust, and that’s the cornerstone of any relationship.”

“And you trust this Giacomo?” he said, sneering a little at having to speak his name.

“I do.”

He knew he shouldn’t say it, but he found the urge unstoppable. “Even though he was seeing you when he was married?”

Her eyes narrowed and she looked him right in the eye. “Yes. He’s worthy of my trust.”

“I don’t get it. He was cheating on his wife, you were cheating on me, but that’s okay. I’m a horrible guy for cheating, but you and he are…what? Misunderstood?”

“The limo’s in my name,” she said, her voice cold and flat. “I’m sure the driver will put you out wherever I tell him.” She looked out the window, seeing a small emergency lane and short guardrail on the freeway. They were on a small hill, and the road dropped off sharply behind the guardrail. “Here might be nice.”

“Don’t be that way. I didn’t mean to upset you. Really.” He scooted around, trying to get her to meet his eyes. She finally did, but she looked so perturbed that he was a little regretful that he’d been successful at capturing her gaze.

She turned her head and stared out the window for a few moments. “Let’s drop it, all right? I hate to fight.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I started it, and I truly regret it.”

“It’s over. Let’s move on.”

A beat passed, then he said, “Have I done something recently to upset you?”

“No. Why?”

“Well, you’re usually nice to me. We’ve been around each other frequently, and I’ve actually been impressed with how cordial you’ve been. Why the change?”

“We’re always with a group. I can treat you like I treat anyone when we’re with other people. But being alone with you...” She shivered and looked away. “It brings up a lot of things that I’d rather not dwell on.”

“Okay. I understand.” A few moments of silence followed, with Jim finally managing, “Are you planning on doing anything interesting in Italy?”

She looked at him for a second, then shook her head. “Is that really a good direction to go in?”

“No,” he said, gritting his teeth. “I…there aren’t that many topics that aren’t loaded in some way.”

“That’s one of the reasons it’s hard to be alone with you. I don’t want to talk about my private life and I don’t much want to hear about yours. That doesn’t leave a lot, does it?”

Her expression was sad and he suddenly felt like crying. “This is hard.” He turned and looked out the other window, trying to get his emotions in check. “I wish we could be friends. At least friends.” He felt his chest tighten and a flash of heat behind his eyes that signaled the beginning of tears. He shut his eyes tightly, hoping to staunch the flow.

She reached out and lightly touched his arm. “Maybe we can be friends—one day. We need some time to let our wounds heal.”

His voice broke when he said, “Yeah. Maybe.”

Once again she patted his arm and looked out her own window, watching the steady stream of cars glide by.

Mia sat in the rear passenger seat of her father’s big, dark gray Mercedes. They’d just left the party that her grandparents had thrown for her and she was wrestling with an urge. She knew it wasn’t wise. She knew it would make the drive home tense at best. But she couldn’t stop her mouth from opening and the words come tumbling out. “Did you know Jordan was at the ceremony, Mom?”

Her mother turned around and stared at her. “What?”

Eyes narrowed and filled with intensity, she said, “I’m asking if Dad and Peter were acting on their own, or if you told them to get rid of her.”

“Mia, what are you talking about?” Anna Lisa looked dumbfounded. “Is Jordan here?”

“Not now,” Mia said, sulking and slipping down in her seat.

Anna Lisa clamped her small hand around her husband’s upper arm. “What’s she talking about?”

Adam’s lips pursed and he fiddled with the air conditioning control, likely trying to buy time.

“Stop that and answer me,” Anna Lisa demanded.

He gave her a quick glance and said, “When Peter and I went to find Mia, Jordan was with her. Jim Evans flew in this morning, and he arranged for Jordan to come with him.”

“Did you know she was coming?” Anna Lisa asked, turning to look at Mia.

“No. It was a surprise.”

“Why is she gone? Did you fight?”

“No,” Mia snapped, irritated. “Dad and Peter thought Nonna would have a stroke or something if Jordan came with us to the party.”

Anna Lisa’s hand was still on Adam’s arm and she squeezed it roughly. “What’s the matter with you? You can’t show a little hospitality?”

Giving her a look as full of irritation as Mia’s had been, he said, “I’m very hospitable, more so than you and your mother would have been if Jordan and Mia had walked in holding hands.” He gave his wife a pointed look and he saw understanding dawn.

“Oh. Well, I certainly don’t think that would have been appropriate. Your grandparents are elderly and frail, Mia. They’re not used to things like that.”

“Things like what? Seeing two people in love?”

“You know very well what I mean. Don’t be coy.”

“I’m not. I’m really not.”

Anna Lisa turned and looked at her daughter.

“I don’t see why my being in love has to be something weird, something I have to hide.” She was on the verge of tears. “I really don’t.”

“It just is,” Anna Lisa said. Her voice was calm and soft and soothing. “I wish it wasn’t, baby, but it is.”

“Only if we let it be,” Mia said, lower lip trembling.

“That is not so. Other people have their opinions, honey, and wishing they didn’t isn’t going to change things. Your grandparents don’t need to be exposed to this. I promise you they wouldn’t understand.”

“What?” The tears stopped, replaced by a stunned, angry glare. “You honestly think I’m going to hide my love, my life?”

“They don’t need to know, honey. It’ll only confuse them.”

“Fuck that!” Mia’s eyes were blazing and her voice shrill.

“Don’t use that kind of language! You sound like a cheap woman.”

“Gimme a break. You’ve heard worse.”

“I don’t want to hear it from my little girl. You’re not a sailor, you know.”

Mia looked bored. “Whatever.”

“Every time I think you’re making progress, that you’re really maturing, you do something like this. It’s always one step forward and two steps back with you.”

“Yeah. That makes sense. Wanting to introduce my partner to my grandparents is ridiculously immature. I see your point.”

“Trying to make a point when you know it will upset your grandparents is the immature thing. And cursing like a streetwalker.”

“You’d probably prefer I was a streetwalker. At least then Nonna wouldn’t think I was gay.”

“I thought you weren’t gay,” Anna Lisa snapped.

Mia was turned in her seat, looking at her fingernails. “I’m not. But it takes an open-minded person to understand how I can love Jordan and not be gay. There’s a dearth of them in this family.”

Adam finally spoke, making both women turn his way. “Will you two please stop it? I’d like to keep my eardrums intact. Jordan’s gone, the party’s over, and you have plenty of time to argue about this later.”

Mia sank further into the seat and Anna Lisa turned to gaze out the window. The rest of the ride passed in a tense, heavy silence.

Jamie and Ryan opened the door to their home, and both noticed the blinking red light on the answering machine. “I wonder if Ray took me seriously,” Jamie said, putting her things down to walk over to the machine.

“I think he did,” Ryan said, smiling to herself. “I heard you when you were on the phone with him this morning. I think he has his marching orders.”

Jamie stuck out her tongue and hit the “play” button. “Hi, Jamie. This is Ray. Good news! The seller accepted your offer. You’re going to have to come by my office to accept, though. Is that all right? If you can’t…” There was a long pause. “I could have a messenger come to your house. Or…” Another pause. “Let me know, okay?”

Ryan put her arms around her lover. “I think he got the message. And you, my little real estate mogul, did a very good job. Now you just have to pay for our new family toy.”

Catherine nearly fell asleep in the limo on the way to The Pierre Hotel in New York City. Her flight had left a little late, and by the time they landed at JFK it was 6:00 a.m. If she’d been staying in New York, she would have forced herself to stay awake until it was time for bed. But she had another long flight ahead of her and she knew her body clock would complain no matter what she did.

Check-in took a matter of moments, and she eyed the bed hungrily while the bellman explained all of the amenities, none of which she planned on using. Her flight to Milan was scheduled for 8:00 p.m., and even though she appreciated that the airlines scheduled European flights to allow business travelers to arrive in Europe in the morning, it made for a very long day for someone from the West Coast…especially someone who didn’t do well on eleven-hour flights. So, she usually flew to New York, slept for a few hours, then went back to the airport. She could have saved time, not to mention money, by staying near JFK, but it didn’t make much sense to her to try to sleep during the day with a plane roaring overhead every three minutes. Besides, the staff at the Pierre acted as though she were an old friend, even though she was fairly sure she’d never previously interacted with any of the staff members she’d encountered on this stopover.

She removed her travel/cosmetics bag and spent a few minutes getting organized. Dutifully, she brushed her teeth and removed her make-up, then changed into a sleek, pale blue satin nightgown that could have passed as a dress if it were shorter. The bed beckoned and she slid between the soft, white sheets with a hiss of pleasure. Within minutes, she was asleep.

Jamie woke slowly, realizing that she’d had far too much liquid before bedtime. With regret, she forced herself to wake up completely and start to get out of bed. Her progress was stopped abruptly when she heard a wide-awake voice ask, “What’s wrong?”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Jamie turned to her partner. “What’s wrong with you?” She looked at the clock and said, “It’s 3 a.m.”

“I know.” Ryan’s hands were laced behind her head, and she looked like she’d been contemplating something important. She turned onto her side and fluffed her pillow. “Can’t sleep.”

“Let me go pee. Be right back.”

Jamie scampered into the bathroom, with Ryan smiling at her exit. She still found it a little funny that Jamie couldn’t bear to leave the bathroom door open so they could continue their conversation.

A few minutes later, Jamie emerged and got back into bed. “Wanna cuddle?”

“No, I’m all right.”

“Are you thinking about something?”

Ryan’s lazy smile took several seconds to reach both sides of her mouth. “I’m always thinking about something.”

“Come here, you.” Jamie lay on her back and patted her shoulder. “Let me kiss that sweet little head.”

“No arguments.” Ryan scooted close and put her head on Jamie’s shoulder, tucking an arm around her lover’s waist to further anchor herself.

Jamie threaded her fingers through the dark hair, murmuring, “What’s got my girl so wired?”

“Nuthin’.”

“Something’s going on in here,” Jamie insisted, tapping gently on Ryan’s head.

“Not much. Just thinkin’.”

“You’re thinking evasively,” Jamie said, placing a kiss on Ryan’s head. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk, sweetie, but if you do, I’m your girl.”

Ryan tilted her head to gaze into Jamie’s eyes for a second. “I hope you’re my girl even if I don’t wanna talk.”

“Sure am. All yours, all the time.”

“That should help me relax. Thinking about how lucky I am to have you as my partner is enough to make me happy as a clam.”

“But you’re still clamming up.” Jamie tickled under Ryan’s chin, then kissed her head once again. “Want me to rub your head or your back?”

“No, I’m okay. I’ll get to sleep eventually.”

Ryan could feel the tension in Jamie’s body as she turned a little. “You haven’t been to sleep yet?”

“Uhm, no. I’m just keyed up from everything that happened today.”

“Everything?”

Ryan sighed. “You’d have been a good police detective. You wear me down.” She rolled onto her back and once again put her hands behind her head. “Something hit me today and I can’t get it out of my head.”

Jamie reached over and rubbed her belly, waiting patiently while Ryan seemed to struggle with her thoughts.

“Okay. Here it is.” She felt a swell of emotion flood over her, and knew she wouldn’t be able to keep her tears at bay. Giving up her desire for control, her voice shook when she said, “I was thinking about how much I wanted to have my mother with me today.”

“Oh, my sweet baby. I knew it’d be hard for you today.” Jamie stroked her gently. “I’m so sorry.”

“’Sokay.” Ryan cleared her throat and said, “I expected to feel sad. I was prepared.”

“Yeah? You were?”

“Uh-huh. But I wasn’t prepared for how I’d feel when it hit me that your mom is alive and well—and she’s not coming to yours—by choice.” She lost all control and started to sob, causing a clearly confused Jamie to wrap her in a hug.

“Why are you upset, baby? We’ve talked about this before and you didn’t seem to think it was a big deal.”

“It is,” Ryan said, still crying. “It’s a very big deal. My mom would have cut off a leg to be able to be here for me. And it makes me mad…” She started sobbing so hard that she could hardly get her breath. “It makes me so mad. If your mom was here right now I think I’d tell her off.”

“Ryan! I’m—I’m amazed. You seemed almost uninterested in her going away. I don’t understand why it just hit you that you’re upset about her trip.”

“I’m not sure. Maybe I was blocking out how I felt about my mom not being here. But when we were at your mom’s house today it hit me—hard. It seemed so wrong to me that she was going on a vacation instead of being there for you.”

Jamie cuddled her partner tenderly, rubbing her back and kissing her cheek and neck. “It’s all right, sweetheart. It’s all right. She would have changed her plans if I asked her to. She offered to, baby. It was my choice.”

“You shouldn’t have had to make that choice. It was wrong—so wrong—of her to put you in that position. I’m so disappointed in her.”

“Don’t be mad at her, honey. She’s struggling right now.”

Ryan’s chin tilted and she gazed at Jamie for a minute. “She is?”

“Yeah, I think she really is. It seems important to her that she see Giacomo. And if she didn’t go now she probably wouldn’t be able to go for a couple of months.” She kissed Ryan’s lips, giving in to the delicious sensation of her warm, moist flesh to luxuriate in the touch. “Think how we would have felt if we had to wait a couple of months to see each other.”

Ryan smiled, but the sadness still showed in her eyes. “No way. It almost drove me nuts to have you gone for a week last summer.”

“Exactly. She’s not just my mom. She’s a woman who’s trying to figure something out. We talked for a while today and I got a much better sense of that. She’s working on something, honey. I’m not sure if it’s whether she loves Giacomo or whether she wants to continue seeing him or what, but it’s something.”

“You don’t sound like you’re mad at her anymore.”

“I’m not. I’ve been busting her chops for a while now and she called me on it today. Made me feel like a jerk.”

“Ohh…”

“No, no, I deserved it. I’ve been very demanding and kinda judgmental. Nobody likes that.”

“No, I guess no one does. But you were just telling her how you felt.”

“No, it was more than that. I don’t think she’d ever mind my telling her my feelings. But she doesn’t like to be told what to do. And she doesn’t like my smartass comments that have a tendency to slip out.”

Ryan chuckled and moved down so she could peer into Jamie’s mouth. “This cute little mouth makes smartass comments? Not possible.” Jamie stuck her tongue out and Ryan sucked it into her own mouth. The playful exchange shifted into something more serious and sensual. “Mmm…” Ryan finally lifted her head and said, “That’s a nice tongue.”

“It’s nicer when it’s used for good rather than evil. I’m gonna try to stop being such a smartass to my mom and you and everybody.”

“You’re not like that.”

“I have been lately.” She laughed softly. “I’m sick of myself.”

“I’m never sick of you.” Ryan kissed her tenderly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now relax and go to sleep. Everything’s gonna be fine. My mom went to the big ceremony and got to see all of the hoo-ha. It’s cool.”

“Okay. I’ll try to let go.”

“You will. You’re the essence of compassion.”

“That’s a little extreme. But I’m sure you’re right. I’m hardly mad at all now.”

“That’s my sweet baby girl. Now cuddle close and dream about reading all of those journals that my mom gave you.”

Ryan plastered herself to Jamie’s back and sighed heavily. “Mmm…P-NAS. Nice.”

Waking with a start, Catherine searched for the clock and saw that it was just 8:00 a.m. Irritated, she tried to return to sleep but found her mind racing. A mixture of anticipation and anxiety had settled over her and both had served to disturb the little sleep she’d gotten. She longed for a cup of weak tea with a dose of bourbon, but she’d been sticking to her resolve to have only one drink per day and she didn’t want to waste it so early in the morning. So she got up and turned on the television, tuning to CNN, hoping the calm, measured tones of the announcer would eventually lull her back to sleep.

CNN apparently did the trick, because she woke again at noon, feeling extraordinarily hungry. A call to room service was the obvious answer. By the time her breakfast arrived, she’d washed her face and put on a robe. When she finished her meal, she gave in to temptation and called Giacomo on his cell phone. The phone rang a few times, then his deep, silky voice answered.

“What a lovely surprise.”

“I hope you have caller ID,” she teased.

“I do. But the phone rings in a special way when you call me.”

She felt a girlish thrill at the way he always managed to make her feel special. “I’ve just had breakfast and I still have five hours before I have to leave for the airport. I wish you were here with me.”

“I do too. I should have come to New York to meet you. It was thoughtless of me.”

She laughed quietly, wondering if he was always so agreeable with his wife. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just a little lonely. I’m ready to see you, and it’s hard for me to wait.”

His voice took on the smoky, husky tone he used when he whispered in her ear. “It’s very hard. I can almost…almost feel you in my arms.”

“Just the thought of that makes me feel good. But I have to make the clock move quicker.”

“Is the weather nice?”

“I haven’t even looked outside.” She drew back the heavy curtains. “It looks lovely. Clear, blue sky. Light wind.”

“Why don’t you go for a walk in the park? You’ll be sitting for a long time tonight.”

“That’s a good idea. I can probably get five miles in. Maybe I’ll have time to stop at one of the midtown galleries. Is there anything you’re dying to have?”

“You. Only you, Catherine. There isn’t a piece of art in the world I’d choose over holding your face in my hands.”

PART NINE

IT WAS PITCH black and silent when Jordan flew into a sitting position, her heart beating so fast that she felt it would burst from its cage. Blindly, she reached out with both hands, frantically patting the bed, trying to find Mia. Her heart slowed a little as she woke up more fully and realized she was alone and that Mia was with Jamie and Ryan.

Sweat pooled at the small of her back and she ran her hands through her tousled hair, trying to regain some semblance of control. The nightmare had been a bad one. A very bad one. One of the worst she’d had since before she’d met Mia. It wasn’t cool in the room, but her sweating body made her feel chilled. She got up and took a T-shirt from her laundry bag, the scent of her own body further centering her.

Whenever the nightmare woke her like this, it took her a few minutes to remind herself she was an adult and that she wasn’t in danger. Being with Mia had made that clear, and had finally convinced her that her former therapist had been right: the dreams were nothing more than a nighttime alarm, a clarion call about her fears of abandonment and isolation. Taking the remarkably terrifying step of being with Mia had stopped the nightmares almost immediately, but having another one made her feel as small and powerless as she had before meeting her lover.

She sat up in bed and pulled the light blanket from its moorings, wrapping it around her shoulders. Grabbing an elastic band from her nightstand, she gathered her hair and wrapped the band around it, securing it and letting the air cool her wet neck. Shivering with a combination of fear and anxiety, she tucked the blanket closer, covering her head with it.

Jordan stole a glance at the clock, hoping it would be close to 5:00, when she’d be able to get up. But it was 2:30, hours from the relief of dawn.

Through the years, her therapist had suggested a variety of relaxation techniques, but none of them had worked well. Now that she was practicing yoga on a regular basis, she decided to meditate to take her mind off the images that kept streaming through her head. Normally, she spent an hour a day meditating and practicing yoga. She’d found that it worked best for her to do it during their long lunch break at practice. Even though she knew Mia would like to watch, she was a little embarrassed to do it in front of her, so she kept it her little secret.

Tossing off the blanket, she stood in the middle of the small room and centered herself by taking many deep, cleansing breaths. She shook her arms, letting them dangle for a moment, then rocked her hips and tried to loosen up. When she felt pliable, she squatted a little by bending her knees.

Her technique was to envision herself as a long blade of grass swaying in the wind. She lifted her hands above her head and clasped them together, then started to move gently. Imagining her roots deep in the ground, she tried to feel the energy of the earth move through her body while she slowly undulated her hips and shoulders.

The imagined wind buffeted her, while her roots held her snugly to the ground. She twisted and turned, moving in the breeze, concentrating only on the earth holding her and the breeze making her sway. As she moved she felt lighter and more centered, more like herself. She continued to move her hips until she felt completely in possession of her body. A wave of lethargy washed over her and she shook her body, starting at her head and moving down slowly. Then she took in a deep breath and lay down, settling the blanket in a ball and holding it to her chest. Trying to keep only an image of Mia in her head, she closed her eyes and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

On Thursday morning, Ryan woke at the first light of dawn. She felt lazy and a little tired, but there were some things she needed to get done, so she contemplated getting up. Jamie was wrapped around her in a very pleasing fashion, using one of Ryan’s breasts and a bit of her shoulder for a pillow. On the other hand, her final was Monday and she was truly anxious about it, something she hated to admit, even to herself.

She had always maintained that grades meant nothing to her, but now that she knew she didn’t need foreign language proficiency for grad school, there was no explanation for her anxiety other than wanting to get a good grade. The truth of this realization forced her to admit that her GPA actually did mean a great deal to her, and, even though she wouldn’t tell Jamie this, she was determined to do well, very well, on her exam. While she didn’t want others to know her grades, they were a form of competition. And she hated to fail at any form of competition, even one that she knew was not of any real consequence.

So, with a regretful sigh, she gingerly turned Jamie’s face away from her breast, watching with a gentle smile as her lover made one soft, complaining mew and rolled over onto her other side. Ryan slid from the bed and went into Mia’s room to shower, emerging a few minutes later, clean and fresh and ready to take on la belle langue.

After a breakfast of “Ryan’s jumble”—which this morning consisted of granola, bran flakes and a sprinkling of Frosted Flakes, or Frosties as her mother had called them, she sat in the backyard and gazed up at the sky. There was a bit of blue peeking out through the clouds, but it looked like the color would soon be lost to the maddening dullness of the overcast skies they’d been experiencing.

Her box of flashcards lay beside her on the garden bench, and she glared at it before taking off the top. There was something so inherently wrong with having finals after commencement that she was truly offended by the entire scheme. She and Jamie should be celebrating their graduation— their having worked and played and fallen in love over the course of their studies. But here she was, on a chilly, gray day, going over verb conjugations when her lover was upstairs sleeping in their big, warm bed. She recalled how decadently delicious Jamie’s naked body had felt when pressed up against hers when she woke. Her eyes turned to their bedroom window, wishing she could see through the clapboards to get another viewing of how touchingly lovely Jamie looked while she slept.

Ryan had been with more women than she cared to admit, but none of them touched her the way Jamie did when she looked at her sleeping face. Her cheeks always seemed pink and healthy, and her often mussed hair only added to her attractiveness. It was truly the best “bed head” Ryan had ever seen—just messy enough to look like she’d had a good roll in the hay.

The thought of Jamie, and her overall grumpiness about the ill-timed convocation, caused Ryan to do something very out of character. She picked up her box of flashcards, carried them into the kitchen, and began to strip off her clothing as she ascended the stairs. It was nearing Jamie’s normal waking time, and Ryan couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate their graduation than to give her lover the gift she’d been seeking nearly every day—a nice, long lovemaking session.

By the time she’d reached the bedroom, a rakish smile had settled onto her face. Jamie hadn’t really been craving lovemaking. She’d been as horny as a toad, and Ryan was very skilled in satisfying a woman’s desire for some down and dirty sex. As a small commencement token, she detoured to the closet of her bedroom, grinning happily as she rooted through her collection, picking out just the right thing for a young woman’s graduation.

Ryan slipped back into bed, filling the space in front of her still-sleeping partner. As she often did, Jamie woke just enough to wrap her arm around Ryan and aim a few soft kisses in the general vicinity of her body. This time she was right on, and the kisses landed on Ryan’s neck. She’d twisted her hair up when she’d showered, and the clip was still holding her tresses against her head, leaving lots of bare skin for Jamie to access.

Ryan was mentally timing her lover to test her response time; it just took a few seconds. She heard a soft intake of breath, then the same smacking sound Jamie made when she had her first taste of something particularly tasty. The arm around her tightened possessively. “Shower?” the low, raspy voice asked.

“Uh-huh. All clean for you.”

“For me?” The surprise in her voice was colored with pleasure. Jamie kissed the clean, lightly scented skin again, this time with more interest. “Umm…nice.” She cuddled up as closely as she could get, draping a leg around Ryan’s hip and pressing her vulva against the firm ass. “All for me?”

“Uh-huh. A little graduation present.”

“Mmm.” Jamie hugged her tightly. “What a nice present. I can’t think of anything I’d rather have.” She started kissing all across Ryan’s shoulders, smacking her lips in pleasure. “You taste so good.”

“Thank you. It wouldn’t do to give you a dirty gift.”

Jamie pulled her leg away, starting to get up. But Ryan caught her and held on. “Where are you going?”

“To take a shower.”

“Oh, no, you don’t. I happen to like my gifts au natural. I love the way you smell when you wake up in the morning.”

“You’re odd, O’Flaherty, but I love you anyway.” She entwined herself with Ryan’s body and stroked her skin. “You’re the softest thing I can ever imagine holding. You’re strong and heavy, but so soft. I never get over the dichotomy.” She trailed her hand up and down Ryan’s side, smiling when her lover arched into her touch. “You love to be touched, don’t you, baby?”

“Uh-huh. All over.” Ryan ground her ass against Jamie, snuggling into her as tightly as she could.

Continuing to kiss her neck and ears and nibble on her bare skin, Jamie let her hand drop to Ryan’s belly, tickling her. Ryan giggled like a child, pressing tightly against Jamie’s body in a wrongheaded move to escape the torment. Her actions let Jamie possess her more fully, scratching and tickling her from her breasts to her belly. As her hand moved a little lower, Jamie was shocked to feel something firm and smooth. Leaning over Ryan’s shoulder, she saw a bright blue phallus peeking out from between her legs. Clambering over her partner, with Ryan chuckling at her antics, Jamie got as close as she could manage, finally asking, “Honey? What’s holding that thing upright?” She reached back and blindly felt across Ryan’s hip and ass, noting the absence of anything resembling a strap. “Isn’t a strap-on supposed to have a strap?” She slipped back down to lie behind Ryan. “That is a strap-on, isn’t it?”

Ryan turned her head to be able to see her lover’s face, grinning at her playfully. “It’s kind of a strap-on. And it’s held in place by magic.”

“Magic?”

“Yes. Magic.” Ryan scooted over, then turned to lay on her back. “I can make it move by magic, too.”

Jamie watched, fascinated, as the phallus wiggled and bounced up and down a couple of inches. “How’d you do that?” she demanded, scooting down to investigate.

“Hey, hey, hold on, sparky.” Ryan grasped her by the shoulder and held on. “Why don’t we play a little bit and you can find out how things work the hard way.”

Grinning wryly, Jamie said, “The hard way, huh?”

“Mmm-hmm. The hard way.” Ryan tucked her hands into Jamie’s armpits and forcibly tossed her onto her back. Leaning over her, she got to within an inch of her face and said, “Buckle up, baby. I’m gonna take you for a spin.”

Jamie’s eyes twinkled with a mixture of desire and excitement. “You know just what to say to a girl.”

“To this girl, I most certainly do.” Ryan leaned in and kissed her hard, pressing their bodies together with a raw, untamed need. She finally broke away and panted, “I know just what my girl needs.”

“Oh, you do, you do,” Jamie murmured, her gaze already unfocused.

Ryan moved so their noses touched. Her voice was heavy with unspent passion. “You’ve been jonesing for a good, hard fuck. And I’m gonna give you one you won’t forget.”

Jamie practically swooned at her lover’s uncharacteristically coarse talk, and the gleam in her eyes and the insistent shifting and pressing of her vulva against Ryan’s leg showed she was more than receptive. “Do me, baby,” she whispered throatily. “Do me good.”

Ryan’s response was another hard, wet kiss, delivered with an urgency and a forcefulness that made Jamie feel lightheaded. Ryan had never been this dominant, but she didn’t give off the faintest hint of indecision or discomfort with the role. She moved slowly, but surely, caressing and biting, sucking and laving Jamie’s skin.

Ryan worked on her lover’s breasts with an intensity that made Jamie’s eyes roll up into her head. The pain was of the most delicious kind. The kind that confused her senses so thoroughly that the line between pain and pleasure was crossed so many times that she gave up trying to decide whether to beg for more or cry for mercy.

When she was sure she couldn’t take another moment, Ryan slid up her sweaty body and began to work on her mouth with the same unbridled focus. She kissed Jamie with tender, soft caresses, then probed her mouth with a firm, searching tongue. Her kisses were wet and sloppy and hard and soft and sweet and rough. Every kind of touch imaginable rained down on Jamie and she barely managed to keep up with her lover’s need. Ryan’s desire was overwhelming, overpowering, but also so loving and so connected that Jamie returned the emotion with the same fervor.

They held each other tightly, rolling over in bed interlocked, their bodies wet and gliding and pressing together. Jamie slid down Ryan’s body and latched on to her breasts, giving them the same rough love that Ryan had given her. “So good, so good,” Ryan moaned, holding Jamie’s head tightly, not giving her the option of pulling away.

Biting and nipping at the pale flesh quickly turned it lush and pink, with a bright flush covering her chest. “Harder,” Ryan panted. “Suck me hard.”

Jamie dove into her with abandon, sucking Ryan’s breast into her mouth—pulling in every bit of flesh she could accommodate. Her mouth was full, and when she began to suck deep in her throat, Ryan grasped handfuls of her hair and clutched her to her breast, demanding that Jamie suck lustily.

They were in a frenzy of lovemaking, their bodies crying with desire. Ryan finally put her hands on Jamie’s shoulders and pushed her away, gasping with pain as the suction was broken. Her eyes were glassy and vacant, her face flushed and wet, and her whole body shook. “I’ve got to have you,” she panted. “Now.”

Jamie threw herself onto her back, ready for anything Ryan could give her. But Ryan had other ideas. She lay down and wrapped both arms around her lover, pulling her onto her own body. After several minutes of reckless, passionate kissing, she said in a clear voice, “Climb on, baby. You’re in charge.”

Lifting her head, Jamie looked into Ryan’s eyes, saw the ultra-confident, proud, knowing demeanor that made her want her with a craving she’d never be able to satiate. She placed her hand on Ryan’s chest, feeling her heart beat so rapidly it almost frightened her. Steadying herself, she got to her knees astride Ryan’s hips, their eyes locked together. Ryan put her hands around Jamie’s waist, waiting for her to take the lead.

Reaching between her legs, Jamie found the base of the dildo and realized she’d have to scoot up so that it could enter her. Before she moved, she let her finger slip down the silicone, finding that it entered her lover’s body. Experimenting, she moved it back and forth, watching raptly as Ryan’s eyes closed halfway, her nostrils flaring.

“Are you fucking me or am I fucking you?” Jamie asked, moving up her lover’s body.

Ryan half-smiled, her gaze still unfocused. “Don’t know. Don’t care. Do it.”

Using her splinted arm for stability, Jamie opened herself with her other hand. Searching for the head of the dildo by shifting her hips, she found it, growling with pleasure as it pushed past her opening. “Ooo…” She threw her head back and hissed softly as the dildo slid into her in one long motion. As she felt her vulva touch Ryan’s, she shifted her hips, watching in fascination as Ryan’s eyes opened wide and she barely uttered a gasp.

Ryan reached for her shoulders and pushed down, making the dildo shift inside both of them. “Fuck me, fuck me,” Ryan moaned, her head dropping back to the pillow, eyes closed tightly.

Jamie sucked in a breath and began to move, quickly getting a feel for how she had to move to have the toy press against both of them. It took a while to synch up with Ryan, to get their hips moving at the same time, but she finally nailed it. Pressing down, then lifting her hips just the slightest bit seemed to make the dildo press against the roof of Ryan’s cunt. The grunting and shoulder squeezing that accompanied each of these moves gave Jamie all of the evidence she needed. And when she slid back on the toy, it did the same to her.

Ryan’s hands moved from Jamie’s waist to her breasts, holding them gently, just squeezing and releasing each time the dildo twitched inside her. Her eyes were still closed tightly, and her lips formed a perfect “O” through which she steadily blew a long stream of air every time the toy touched her g-spot.

Jamie’s whole body was shaking, her knees so wobbly she could barely stay upright. But the sensations were so overwhelmingly fulfilling that she couldn’t make herself go faster—even though she knew just a slight up-tick in rhythm would make her come.

Ryan squeezed her legs together, making the toy rub against her clit every time it moved. She knew she was right on the edge, but she desperately wanted to wait for Jamie. Her body had no such desire, and before she could even warn her partner, she came noisily, moaning and twisting under her lover like a big fish on a tight hook.

Grasping the hands that weakly held onto her breasts, Jamie started thrusting for her own pleasure now, no rhythm but her own guiding her. Her teeth showed through her slight grimace, and her eyes were half closed as she worked. Body covered in sweat, she thrust her hips sharply, now feeling the sensation of Ryan’s hands eagerly palming and squeezing her breasts. Her ass contracted with each thrust, the feeling flowing to every part of her cunt. Finally, she bent over, her breasts tantalizingly close to Ryan’s mouth as she bore down on the dildo, making it rub firmly against her clit. Her breathing grew louder and heavier; sweat dripped from her body as she got closer and closer. Finally, the feeling overwhelmed her and she cried out, nearly sobbing with relief as her cunt clutched and released around the dildo again and again. She dropped onto Ryan’s chest, the dildo still deep inside, engulfed by her spasming flesh.

Ryan kissed her chest and touched her back, gently grounding her. It took a few seconds, but Jamie finally murmured, “Need more.”

“Come on, baby,” Ryan soothed. “You can have as much as you want.”

“Too tired.”

“Oh, my poor girl’s worn out.” Wrapping her arms around Jamie, she warned, “Watch your arm,” then rolled over, placing Jamie on her back. “Is this better?” she asked, moving slowly, pushing the phallus gently into her partner.

Jamie’s satisfied gurgle and lazy smile signaled Ryan to keep pumping her hips against her magnificently beautiful, nearly insatiable lover.

Jordan took another look at the large clock at the far end of the volleyball court. She’d glanced at the clock so many times that she’d nearly been hit in the face with the ball during a drill. But she couldn’t, no matter how hard she tried, concentrate on volleyball. Even though she’d eventually soothed herself back to sleep after her nightmare, the aftereffects lingered, making her skin crawl every time she thought of the dream.

Having Mia gone was affecting her in so many ways, all of them bad, that she was tempted to call her and beg her to come home. But she knew her lover needed to spend some time at home. Being with her family and with Jamie and Ryan always invigorated and calmed her—a seeming disparity. But that’s exactly what the visits did, and Jordan knew Mia needed both the excitement and love she got while she was at home. Still, it was tempting, very tempting.

Finally, their coach blew his whistle, signaling the end of morning practice. “Gonna shower first?” Toni asked, startling her.

“No. I mean, yes. I’ve gotta make a call, then I’m gonna shower. See you at lunch.”

“I can wait…”

“No. No, thanks. I might be a while.”

“Fine,” Toni said, clearly miffed. “See you.”

Jordan went to her locker and got her phone, then put on her warm-ups and went outside to sit in the sun. It was warm, very warm with her fleece on, but she didn’t want to risk having her muscles tighten up. It was 11:00 in Hillsborough, and she hoped Mia would be up. Dialing the phone, she impatiently tapped her foot against the spongy grass.

She counted the rings, hoping her lover would pick up before the magic number elapsed. But when the phone rang for the fifth time, she knew it was going to voice mail. Trying to sound casual, she said, “Hi, honey. I’m sitting outside on a nice warm day, wishing you were sitting next to me. Call me when you can. I’m gonna stay outside for a little while, then go have lunch. I love you.” Looking at the phone with regret, she closed it and laid it next to her.

The grass was thick and deep green, and she was unable to resist lying down. Stretching out to her full length, she spent some time extending her body, trying to make each vertebrae pop. She put her arms over her head and stretched again, reaching as far as she could with each hand. She’d just extended to her full potential when her phone rang and she frantically patted the ground to make sure she caught it before it went to voice mail. “Hi,” she said, trying to sound happy.

“Hey. Sorry I didn’t pick up. I stayed up late last night and just wasn’t in the mood to get up today.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to wake you. Wanna call me later?” She hated even making the offer, and desperately wished Mia wouldn’t take her up on it.

“Nah. I’m just in bed because I don’t have anything to do.”

“Did you do anything after we talked last night?”

“No. Just went to my grandparents’ house. We stayed pretty late, then we had a fight on the way home. Sucked,” she said, giving a succinct assessment of the evening.

“Oh, baby, what did you fight about?”

“Three guesses.”

“I think I can get it in one. What set it off?”

“Me,” Mia admitted, chuckling fiendishly. “I couldn’t let it rest, Jordy. My mother got exactly what she wanted, and I just had to ruin the evening for her. I’m such a brat!”

“No, you’re not,” Jordan soothed. “It hurts your feelings when she doesn’t respect you and your life.”

“True. But I could handle it a little more diplomatically.” She laughed again. “But that’s no fun.”

“Are you all right? Do you wanna talk about it? I have time.”

“Nah. I’m fine. I’m just not looking forward to going downstairs. Peter went back to school this morning, and I’m gonna avoid facing my mother alone until I get too hungry to avoid her.”

“You should have a little emergency stash. They say to have three days of food stored in case of a disaster. You could keep it in your room.”

“Damn fine idea. I’ll buy a case of those energy bars I like.”

Jordan chuckled. “Those are candy bars, honey. They have marshmallows and chocolate chips in ’em.”

“They say they’re granola. That sounds healthy enough for me.”

“I wish you were my nutritionist. He wouldn’t let me eat one of those if that’s all I ate all day.”

“He’s an idiot. Everyone knows that sugar is the key to happiness.”

“I get all of the sugar I need from your kisses,” Jordan sighed, closing her eyes and trying to imagine the sweetness of her lover’s lips.

“You’re such a sweetheart. My sweetheart.”

“All yours. Well, yours and the USOC’s. They have control of a good portion of my body.”

“Keep the sexy parts for me. I don’t share.”

“I don’t either. I don’t even touch ’em when you’re gone.”

“You don’t?”

Jordan laughed at the shocked tone in her lover’s voice. “Unh-uh. I don’t get the urge when you’re not here.” She didn’t ask the follow-up question, already knowing the answer.

“No wonder you’re so hot when we’ve been apart! You’ve been starving.”

“Hey.” Jordan gathered her nerve and asked the question she’d been mulling over all morning. “What do you think about going to Switzerland with me?”

Mia was silent for a few seconds, then she asked, “How come?”

Jordan had to make a quick decision—tell the whole truth, or try to manipulate Mia into coming without being clear about why she needed her. It just took a second to decide to be honest. “’Cause I need you.”

Immediately Mia said, “Okay. Want me to buy the ticket, or can you get a deal?”

Jordan had to close her eyes tightly to stop the tears from escaping. “I love you,” she finally said, her voice breaking.

“Baby, what is it? Is something wrong?”

“No, no. I’m just so thankful that you are who you are. You don’t ask me any questions, you just agree. That’s so loving.”

“That’s because I’m so loving you,” she said, softly. “I’d do anything for you, Jordy. I’ve told you that and I meant it. Anything for you, baby. Anything.”

“I can get the ticket—if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. And if you want to tell me why you changed your mind about traveling alone, I’m always ready to listen.”

“It’s not a secret,” Jordan said, even though parts of her wished she could keep it a secret. “This is a big tournament and I think I’ll play better if I have you there. It’s all about me.”

“Yeah, that’s you—Ms. Self-Absorbed.”

“Sometimes I am.”

“I haven’t seen that part of you yet. Don’t ruin the illusion of your perfection.”

“Got it. I’ll keep up the illusion.”

“You sound happy. Are you?”

Images of Mia in their hotel room, waving to her from the stands, and snuggling up to her in bed floated through Jordan’s head. “I’ve never been happier. And it’s all because of you.”

“Have you had lunch yet?”

“No, I’m gonna go when we hang up.”

“You go fill that little tummy. And Jordy?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m very, very happy that you told me you want me to go with you. Good girl.”

“Thanks,” Jordan said, smiling brightly. “Talk to you tonight.”

Feeling a little more social, Mia took a shower, got dressed, and ventured downstairs. Her mother was in the kitchen, and from the scent wafting from the range, she was stewing a chicken.

“Morning,” Mia said, approaching her mother and giving her a hug from behind.

“Hi, sleepyhead. Did you sneak out last night?”

“No.” Mia went to the coffeemaker and poured a cup. “I had a hard time relaxing.”

“Mmm.” Anna Lisa leaned against the sink and appraised her daughter for a moment. “Me, too.” Pushing away from the sink, Anna Lisa went to Mia and wrapped her in a long, affectionate hug. “I’m sorry your day was ruined.”

“It wasn’t ruined,” Mia said, her words slightly muffled against the cotton of her mother’s blouse. “Part of it is I miss Jordy, and I hated the fact that she had to go back to Colorado.”

“That makes sense,” Anna Lisa said as they parted. “Anything else?”

“Sure. What I said last night was true.” Mia sat at the kitchen table and put a very generous amount of milk into her coffee. “I can’t go to family functions and act like Jordan doesn’t exist.”

Anna Lisa sat down and pulled her chair close to Mia’s. She cupped her hand over Mia’s cheek and gently stroked her. “I’m sorry this is so upsetting for you.”

Warily, Mia looked at her. “Why are you being so nice?”

“Because I love you.” Leaning over, Anna Lisa kissed her daughter’s forehead. “Even when we disagree, it doesn’t affect my love for you. I want you to be happy, Mia. I’m not sure you know how important it is to me that you be happy.”

“No, I don’t know that.” Mia was still stinging from her mother’s comments the night before, and she wasn’t ready to let it go.

“Well, it’s true. And, even though I’ve never been in the situation, it has to be hard to be in a relationship where some—many people—aren’t supportive.”

“Especially when those people are your parents,” Mia said pointedly, giving her mother a narrow-eyed stare from over her cup.

“That’s where you’re wrong, my sweet girl.” Anna Lisa kissed her again, then stood up and went to the refrigerator. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Cereal’s fine.”

“How about chocolate chip pancakes?”

Mia gave her a sly smile. “We can talk like adults. You don’t have to bribe me with sugar.”

“I’m not bribing you, I’m feeding you. Pancakes?”

“Sure. That’d be nice.”

Anna Lisa started gathering the ingredients. “Your dad and I are supportive of you, honey. And so is Peter. I don’t want to brag, but I think I’ve shown that I’m more than willing to meet you halfway.”

“Yeah, you have. But I felt like all of you were ganging up on me last night. Even Peter was involved!”

“I wasn’t part of the scheme to keep Jordan from coming to the party.”

“But you would have been. Don’t even act like you wouldn’t.”

“Well, to be honest, I would have asked you not to tell your grandparents—my parents, at least— about Jordan. They have no frame of reference for your relationship.”

“Don’t even try to get away with that. They live in the Bay Area. You can’t spit and not hit a homo.”

“But you’re not gay,” Anna Lisa said with a sweet tone that Mia heard as a dig.

“Fine. I’ll lie and tell them I’m a dyed-in-the-wool dyke. Would that make them more comfortable?”

Anna Lisa looked a little ill, but her quick wits didn’t fail her. “That would be hard to sell. Remember the night Nonna found you…” She pursed her lips and finally continued, “Giving some boy a…”

“Blow job,” Mia said. “So Nonna caught me giving a guy a hummer. Big deal.”

Looking pained, Anna Lisa said, “A hummer?”

“Another name for a blow job. Nothing bad.”

“Forgive me for thinking it’s not ideal for a fifteen-year-old to be performing oral sex acts in the backyard.”

“Better than the living room,” Mia said, smiling as cherubically as she could.

“Let’s drop that topic, shall we? My point is that Nonna knows you’ve been sexually active for years. And I’ve told her about some of your more shocking displays.”

“So? Lots of dykes have had sex with guys. It’s a phase.”

“I’d bet not many of them have been as dedicated to the pursuit as you have been.”

“I thought we had a deal. I thought we didn’t talk about stuff like this.”

Anna Lisa turned her back to begin cooking. “We did. But that deal’s over now. Besides, now that I don’t have to worry about you getting pregnant, it’s not as frightening for me.”

“Ahh, so there’s one benefit to doing a chick, huh?”

“Yes, dear, there’s one benefit. That’s a lovely way to describe your love, by the way.”

Mia got up and swiped a finger full of the thick pancake batter, sticking her finger in her mouth and sucking noisily. “I could be totally serious about how I feel about Jordan, but I don’t feel safe. Some days you act like you’re fine with it, and some days you act like you want me to go hide until I get over this.”

Anna Lisa gave her daughter a quick glance. “I’ve been reading some books about this.”

“Books?”

“Yes. There are a lot of them, you know. And one of them said that most people have to go through a process to come to terms with their sexuality. I think that goes for parents, too. I’m sure you didn’t just wake up one day and decide to have sex with girls.”

Mia giggled. “I kinda did.”

Looking at her again, Anna Lisa blanched. “Really?”

“Kinda. Melissa and I were at her house and we just started making out one day. I hadn’t planned on it, it just happened.”

“And you weren’t upset about it?”

“Upset? Hell, no. It felt great.”

“And you didn’t have to work through your feelings?”

Mia stood there, looking a little puzzled. “Mmm, I’m not sure if I did or didn’t. That’s kind of a sensitive point.”

Anna Lisa looked shocked. “You have secrets? You?”

“Yes, Mother. Even I have things I’m unsure about. I’m not sure I was entirely fair to Melissa. I think I was afraid to really love her.”

“Fascinating.”

Strolling back to her seat, Mia sank into it. “Glad I could entertain you.”

“Don’t hit below the belt. I said that was fascinating, and I meant it. Learning more about your inner life lets me try to understand you better. Or don’t you want that?”

“Yeah, I want it.” She rested her head on her hand. “Let’s get down to the point, Mom. I have to be honest with my family. All of my family.”

Delivering a pancake, Anna Lisa said, “How about this: why don’t we talk about it for a while and decide when and if you approach them.”

“Not ‘if’, Mom. I’m gonna tell ’em.”

“Fine. Let’s talk about when you tell them. We can work through this. I know we can.”

Mia put a bite of her breakfast into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Would you really do that?”

“Yes.” Anna Lisa hugged her again, squeezing her tightly. “I love you, baby, and I don’t want you to feel distant from us.” She sat down and watched Mia eat.

After a few more bites, Mia said, “Wanna go to Switzerland?”

“Pardon?”

“Jordan called this morning and said she needs me to go to Switzerland with her. I thought you might like to go with us. It’d be like a little vacation, and you and I could hang together.”

Anna Lisa’s face lit up in a relaxed smile. “I’ll talk to your father about it. If he says it’s okay, I’d love to go.”

“Great,” Mia said, grinning at her. “It’s a done deal.”

The flight to Milan was smooth, the seat in first class reclined almost flat, and the Ambien that Catherine took before she boarded worked to put her to sleep for nearly the entire trip. She went into the lounge and called Giacomo, then spent a good half hour freshening up, changing clothes, and putting on her make-up. Her hair was perfect and she was well rested and beautifully put together when he arrived to pick her up.

Giacomo jumped out of his surprisingly suburban station wagon and waved enthusiastically. He ran to Catherine and wrapped his arms around her waist, twirling her in a circle while laughing like a child. She knew they were making a spectacle, but she relished the moment, feeling completely and utterly desired.

When he placed her back on the ground he kissed her gently, almost chastely. Then he directed the porter to put her bags in his car. “I assumed you’d have many bags,” he said. “So I brought the Marea.”

Giacomo opened the door for her and Catherine got into the car. She surveyed the simple, family-friendly Fiat, finding it thoughtful that he’d brought a car that could accommodate her luggage. He tipped the porter and slid into the driver’s seat. Leaning in close, he said, “I wanted to give you a much better kiss, but I never want to embarrass you.”

“What about twirling me around like a toy?” she teased.

He looked down, pretending to be chastened. “I have only so much control.”

“Let’s go to my apartment and you can make up for your errors.”

“Andiamo!”

As they left the airport, Catherine rested her hand on Giacomo’s leg. “It’s so good to see you,” she sighed. “You’ve been on my mind so often that I can hardly get a thing done.”

“I’ve been marking the days on my calendar. My secretary asked me why I’d circled today and put stars on the page.” He chuckled. “I told her it was a very special day and none of her business.”

Catherine slapped his leg playfully. “You did not.”

“No, just the first part is true. But when I didn’t say anything more, she knew it was none of her business.”

“You have a good secretary.”

“Yes, I do. She wants to retire but I won’t let her. I keep sending her to lovely, boring places for little trips so she sees that retirement is not for her.”

“Now that I believe,” Catherine said, laughing. “You know how to get what you want.”

He gave her a quick look. “I hope that’s true.”

His look was too intense to respond to, so she changed the subject. “Do you have to work today?”

“No, of course not! I’m on vacation.”

“You are? I had no idea.”

“It’s been so long since you’ve been here, Catherine. Do you think I’d spend my days in my gallery? You’re like a beautiful painting…but so…what’s the word…ephimera…yes, ephemeral. I have to enjoy every moment.”

“How are we…” Puzzled, she trailed off.

“Everything is fine. Tessa is going to Lake Como with Fiorella, and Donato and Cianna are staying with my parents. We can stay at my home, if you’d like.” He turned and gave her a gleaming smile.

“Your home?” Catherine turned pale at the thought.

“Yes. We’d have so much more room.”

“No, that’s not a good idea. I’d feel much more comfortable in my apartment.”

Catherine didn’t say another word and after a few minutes Giacomo said, “I’ve upset you. Tell me why you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry,” she said somewhat snappishly. “I just can’t imagine staying at your home and sharing the bed you and your wife sleep on. It seems… I just don’t want to.”

“Catherine,” he soothed, “we need to make some things clear. Tessa and I have talked about this and she’s agreed to speak to you about how things are.”

“Pardon?”

Her look brought him up short and he fumbled a bit before he spoke again. “It’s fine, really, it is. You’ll feel better if you speak with her. She thinks it’s a good idea.”

“I don’t!”

“But why? It’s the best way for you to feel good about our relationship. I don’t want you to feel like we’re doing something wrong.”

“We’re not? I can rationalize a lot of things, Giacomo, but I don’t think I can convince myself that being involved with you isn’t wrong.”

“How is it wrong?” He looked truly puzzled.

“You’re a married man. Marriage, by its very definition, is a bond between two people, not three or four.”

“Marriage is what the people involved say it is,” Giacomo responded forcefully. “Tessa and I have worked out a way to stay married, and we’re happy with it. Whose business is it to say that our choice is wrong?”

“What about your children? Don’t they deserve parents who love each other?”

Giacomo shot her another quick look. “Where does this come from? I thought we’d settled this at your house. Are you the same woman who called me yesterday, telling me she was so anxious about being with me?”

Catherine let her head tip back and rest against the seat. “Yes, of course I am. But when I’m here, I start to feel guilty. You offering your house made me very uneasy. I can’t imagine looking at your children’s rooms and seeing their toys.”

“Cara,” he said, touching her leg, “please speak to Tessa. She wants to meet with you today, since she’s leaving in the morning. Please.” He squeezed Catherine’s leg gently. “It will help.”

She blew out a heavy breath. “Fine. I don’t think it’s wise, but I’ll do it if it means that much to you.”

“It does. And you’ll see that it makes you feel better. I’m sure of it.”

Looking at the side of his face, she mumbled, “That makes one of us.”

To Catherine’s displeasure, Giacomo refused to accompany her to meet Tessa. The appointment was set for lunch at a small, quiet restaurant near the Castello Sforzesco, and Giacomo deposited Catherine into a cab at a few minutes to 1:00. He spoke to the driver and paid him in advance. “Trust me,” he said, blowing her a kiss.

As the cab pulled away, she realized she didn’t know what Tessa looked like. She spent the rest of the ride worrying about how to connect, barely noticing when the driver stopped. Befuddled, she emerged and stood on the sidewalk for only a second before a woman approached her.

“Catherine?”

“Yes. Tessa?”

“That is me,” she said.

Tessa extended her hand and they shook. Catherine was surprised by her looks, even though Giacomo had never described his wife. She was attractive, but not astoundingly so. Her hair and eyes were dark, and even though her hair was pulled back it was obviously full and curly. Tessa was thin and elegantly dressed, and to Catherine’s dismay, she was furiously smoking a cigarette. She was indistinguishable from a hundred other fashionable women in Milan, and that’s the element that puzzled Catherine. She would have wagered that Giacomo would have picked a wife like he picked his art—distinctive and rare.

“Shall we go in?” Catherine asked, hoping Tessa would extinguish the cigarette.

“Yes.” Tessa led the way, nodding at the captain and strolling determinedly to a waiting table. A waiter was there to hold Tessa’s chair.

“How lovely to see you, Signora Fontini,” he said in Italian. “Are you well?”

“Yes, quite well,” she replied.

He dashed to Catherine and helped guide her chair, then stood there looking attentive. “I’ll have a blood orange martini,” Tessa said. “For you, Catherine?”

“That sounds marvelous. I’ll have the same.” Catherine decided that today might be a good day to waive the one drink maximum rule.

They sat at the table, smiling insincerely at one another until the waiter returned. The drink was wonderful and Catherine felt a little calmer when the first sip of alcohol hit her stomach.

“So,” Tessa said, switching to English, “Giacomo tells me that you have guilty feelings about seeing him.”

“That’s true. I’m divorced, but my husband had lovers while we were married and each one of them hurt me. I don’t want to do the same thing to you.”

Tessa took a sip of her drink, gazing at Catherine over the rim. With an unkind smile she said, “And it took you how many years to have the guilt?”

Blushing in shame, Catherine shook her head. “I felt guilty from the beginning. Giacomo assured me that you both agreed that seeing other people was fine, but I still felt bad. I tried to break it off with him, but…”

Tessa lit another cigarette, then put the first one out. Waving it, she blew out a plume of smoke. “He gets what he wants. He always has.”

Catherine wasn’t sure if it was smoking that made Tessa look older than Giacomo, but she definitely did. The thought flashed through her mind that Giacomo might have a thing for older women, and for some reason that angered her. Her gaze hardened and she said, “He won’t get me if I believe this is bad for you or your children.”

“How kind of you to care.” Tessa’s delivery was laden with sarcasm, but Catherine didn’t take the bait. She patiently waited for her to speak again. After another puff on her cigarette and another sip of her drink, Tessa said, “Here are the facts, Catherine: my marriage improved when Giacomo and I decided to enlarge our circle.”

Catherine tilted her head, a little surprised at Tessa’s odd definition of her marriage.

“I have been in love with Fiorella for around five years. I hid the relationship from Giacomo for as long as I could, but he found out. That was a very difficult time, as you might imagine.”

“When did he find out?”

Tessa waved her cigarette dismissively. “I don’t know. Two years—three. It doesn’t matter. I don’t know if he’d had lovers before he found out. I never asked. But once he knew that I had another, he started seeing other women…in a most flagrant way,” she added venomously. “We were very close to divorce. I didn’t want my children to hear our fighting, and I didn’t want them to know their father was seeing every attractive woman in Milan.” She exhaled and smiled, a smile that could only have been called devilish. “I assume he hasn’t told you about those days.”

Once again, Catherine steeled herself. She had no intention of revealing any of the discussions she and Giacomo had had, and she refused to give Tessa the satisfaction she obviously sought. “We’re honest with each other,” she said, maintaining a steady, polite gaze.

“No matter. What is important is that he found you. Since then, he’s been happy. When he’s happy, the children are happy. We are happy as a family now that we both have someone else.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to divorce? Why not be honest about your lives?”

Tessa looked bored. “You Americans have such silly views of the world. I have no interest in being called a lesbian. I have no interest in living with my lover. We see each other occasionally, and that’s what we both want. I have a home, a husband, two children and no one needs to know about my sex life.”

Catherine tried to stop herself, but she was curious about Tessa’s agenda. “So, this is just about sex for you?”

“No! I call her my lover for a reason. I love her very much. But I would kill her if I lived with her. She’s in the government and her political views are detestable. But we have a wonderful time together as long as we don’t talk about politics or religion or art. She makes me happy and I don’t want to give her up. Having Giacomo occupied lets me live the life I want.”

“But what about your children? Won’t they figure out that you’re not …”

Tessa cut her off immediately. “My children are my business. I’m not going to give up my lover; and my husband, like all men, needs sex. I love Giacomo, and I would have sex with him occasionally, but he doesn’t want that. He wants all of me or none of me.” She shrugged. “He’s chosen to take nothing. So, if he’s not having sex with you, it will be another woman. The only other choice is divorce, and neither of us wants that. It’s not done in our families.”

“This is hard for me to understand,” Catherine said, ruminating.

Tessa raised a delicate hand and in moments two more drinks were delivered. “It doesn’t matter to me if you understand. This whole discussion is a waste of my time. I didn’t want to meet the woman my husband sleeps with. It’s unseemly. But Giacomo begged me to reassure you that you weren’t harming me or our family. I doubt that I’ve done that, since you seem to have the ridiculous double standards that most Americans have.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?” Catherine asked, her color rising.

“I mean that you marry and have lovers and get divorced and remarry and have more lovers and divorce again and again. Does that set a good example for your children?”

She was glaring at Catherine, who was forced to respond. “Of course not. But it’s not common for people to divorce more than once.”

“Once is too much! It’s impossible to find one person who sexually satisfies you for your entire life. I want my children to respect marriage as a pact that you honor—even if that person doesn’t fulfill your every need. They know their father and mother will always be together—as a family. It won’t matter one bit if they find out we each had lovers along the way. What matters is that we love one another and have a happy home life.”

“Even though you each have a secret life? How can that be good?”

“Everyone has a secret life! How naïve you are. How was it for your daughter to learn about your lover? Wouldn’t it have been better for her if you and your husband had stayed married while you each had your other interests?”

Catherine took one sip of her drink and set it down. She found that her head was becoming a little light and she needed to be in full command of her faculties to respond to Tessa. “Yes, in some ways my daughter would have been happier if she hadn’t learned the truth about her father and me. But it was an untenable situation. I was…humiliated by my husband’s behavior.”

“So you married a man who didn’t have the civility to keep his assignations private. And that’s your problem, not the fact that he had other lovers.”

Catherine sighed, feeling tired and a little ill. “You might be right. But I would have preferred that he was true to me. That’s the message I wish I could have given to my daughter. That marriage and fidelity can work.”

Tessa chuckled. “She’s a little old for fairly tales, isn’t she? Love and marriage and fidelity rarely converge. Stay with Giacomo, Catherine. You’ll have two of those elements. He’s as loyal as a dog.” She stood up and signaled to the waiter. He scurried over and she said, in Italian, “My friend may be having lunch, but I have to leave. Put the bill on my tab.” She turned to Catherine and extended her hand, continuing to speak in Italian. “I wish we hadn’t had to meet, but I can now see why Giacomo loves you. You’re as much an idealist as he is.” With that, she left, leaving the befuddled waiter to stare at the wall, acting as if he hadn’t heard a word Tessa had said.

Feeling a little wobbly, and not yet ready to speak to Giacomo, Catherine ordered lunch. As usual, she didn’t eat much, but she felt much better when she’d finished. The waiters were obsequiously polite when she left, and she stepped into the bright sun and waited a moment for her eyes to adjust from the dim restaurant. She was just about to hail a cab when Giacomo approached, looking concerned. “I thought you’d never leave! Tessa left almost an hour ago.”

Catherine laughed, his expression so childlike that it was both funny and endearing. “Tessa wasn’t hungry. I decided to have lunch.”

“She left before you ate?”

“Yes. And I have good reason to believe you lied to me when you said she wanted us to meet. She acted like she’d rather be sweeping the street.”

He dropped his face into his open hands, moaning dramatically. “I knew she wouldn’t behave. She can be such a child.”

Touching his back, Catherine said, “Let’s go home. I’ll tell you all about my lunch.”

Looking at her carefully, Giacomo asked, “Are you angry with me?”

“No, not at all. I think it’s charming that you wanted to reassure me, even though I’m sure Tessa was less than willing to comply.”

He rolled his eyes and grinned. “You have no idea. She can be quite…how would you say…a handful?”

“That’s exactly how I’d say it,” Catherine agreed. “She seemed like two hands full—at least.”

After Giacomo had sent Catherine off, he’d gone to his home and packed a suitcase. His clothes and personal items were put in one of the guestrooms, and his laptop was open and resting on an antique desk in the room. When Catherine saw what he’d done she linked her arms around his neck and kissed him. “This is the first time we’ve ever shared a room.”

“No, it’s not,” he said, smiling contentedly. “We shared a room at your home. It was just for the weekend, but it was nice.”

“That doesn’t count,” she said. “We slept in the pool house and I was torn about your being there at all. This,” she held her hand out and swept it around her apartment, “is mine, and I want to share it all with you. Will you put your things in my room? I want to smell that delicious shampoo you use and watch you comb your hair.”

“You are such a romantic,” he teased, then kissed her again and again. “You’re everything I want in a woman.” He buried his face in her neck, hugging her so tightly it was almost too much. “I want to make love with you so badly it’s torture, but I must know what happened between you and Tessa.”

She pulled away and took his hand. “Come. I’ll make you a drink and we can sit on the balcony and talk.” In the kitchen, she saw that the pantry was fully stocked. “Simone has been a Godsend, Giacomo. Thank you so much for finding her for me.”

“She’s a nice young girl,” he said. “Her mother works for my parents. They’re from Ethiopia, but Simone speaks Italian well. It seems silly to have to have an empty house cleaned, but it’s not good to let a place lie empty and uncared for.”

“Simone bought everything I asked for, so I can make whatever you’d like.”

“Allow me,” he said. “What can I make for you?”

“Mineral water. I had a martini at lunch and my head is still a little light.”

“One of Tessa’s new favorites? She loves the blood orange martini.” He handed her a glass of Ferrarelle water.

“Exactly. It was good, even though the company wasn’t particularly warm.”

He quickly poured a little vodka in a rocks glass and added a few ice cubes, then he took Catherine’s hand and led her outside. “Let’s go talk.”

They sat in the recently cleaned deck chairs and Catherine kicked off her shoes and put her feet up on a stool. “I’m glad I went, even though it wasn’t very pleasant.”

His brow furrowed. “She wasn’t rude to you, was she?”

“Not rude,” she said slowly, even though Tessa had clearly been so, “just not friendly. It was clear she didn’t want to lift the curtain on the production.”

“Curtain? What do you mean?”

“Mmm, I think you know.”

“What do I know?” Giacomo tugged on his ear, an unconscious signal that Catherine took to mean he was being disingenuous.

“You and Tessa have had what you describe as an open marriage, but it hasn’t been very open. It’s been more of an open secret.”

He sucked on his lower lip for a second, then nodded. “Yes, I suppose that is a better way of describing it. We haven’t always discussed things that are difficult. Maybe that’s a mistake.”

Catherine took his hand and kissed it, letting the dark hairs on the side of his hand tickle her nose. “I’m the last person who should tell you how to deal with your marriage. But I want us to be honest with each other. Completely honest. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes,” he said immediately, staring into her eyes. “Yes, I can.”

“If you’ll give it your best efforts, I’ll do the same. But I want everything to be clear between us, even if it’s difficult sometimes.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want to be intimate with you, Giacomo.” He was leaning towards her as she spoke, and she barely had to move to kiss him. When he pulled away, she patted his chest. “I want to know what’s in your heart and in your head. I want to love you.”

“That’s exactly what I want. Exactly!”

“But we have to acknowledge that we have many things that can get in our way. Besides your marriage and your children, we live on different continents and neither of us wants to move.” He looked crestfallen and Catherine’s heart beat quickly.

“No, I cannot. I love my family and my country. I could never leave.”

“I could be persuaded to leave America, but I could never leave Jamie. So we won’t be able to see each other very often. That’s not ideal.”

“No, it’s not. But I’d rather see you twice a year than some other woman every day.”

He was still very close, resting his elbow on the arm of her chair. She kissed him again, letting his full lips and woodsy scent make her pulse beat quicker. “There’s more,” she whispered. “Jamie isn’t happy about my seeing you, and we’ll never be able to be open about our relationship here.”

“No, I suppose not,” he said glumly.

“Maybe I should sell this apartment and buy another in a place where we can go to dinner and the theater without worrying about one of your friends or family members seeing us.”

“But don’t you love Milan?”

He looked so hopeful that she felt she had to lie. Catherine had chosen Milan because of its connection to opera, fashion, and modern art. Except for those three things, however, it held little interest for her. She thought she’d be happy there, but if she hadn’t met Giacomo she probably would have already moved to a different city in Italy. “Of course I do. But we could be more open somewhere else—Rome or Florence or Venice, even Turin or Pisa or Bologna. I don’t feel comfortable seeing you during stolen hours. When we get together, I want to have you all to myself.”

He was quiet for a few minutes, but finally nodded. “I didn’t like talking to Tessa about all of this, but it was nice to be able to make plans so we could each be happy. Stolen hours aren’t good for any of us. I don’t think she’s ever had time away with Fiorella.”

Catherine privately thought that extended time with Tessa might wear on Fiorella’s nerves faster than either woman would like, but she kept that to herself. “This is part of the honesty I need to have, Giacomo. And there’s another thing. If you and Tessa have a sexual relationship, it’s completely fine with me.”

He started to speak, but she squeezed his hand and he stopped. “I don’t want to know whether you do or don’t. But she’s your wife, and if you could get back to the place where you love only each other, I think it would be best for you.”

“That won’t happen,” he said firmly.

“I just want you to know that it’s fine with me if it does. But other than that, I want you to be with only me. If you meet someone who appeals to you, I need for you to tell me. I might be comfortable sharing you, but if you lie to me, I’ll never see you again.” She moved slightly, leaning into him until she could barely maintain her focus. “I can’t bear to be made a fool of again.”

“I would never, never do that, Catherine. I’m not that kind of man.”

She kissed the tip of his nose. “I can be very open-minded. But don’t lie to me.”

“I will not,” he said dramatically.

“I won’t lie to you, either. And I don’t rule out finding someone in America to love. Not that I’m looking for someone,” she added when his expression turned sad. “But I won’t even accept a date without telling you.”

“I want you to be all mine,” he said, grasping her hand tightly. “But if someone in American can make you happy, I would be happy for you—one day.”

She smiled and kissed him, slipping her arms around him and holding on tightly. In seconds they were standing, and then she was in his arms, being carried to her bed.

PART TEN

JAMIE GOT UP early on Friday morning and took a combo of BART and Muni to get to Ray’s real estate office on Castro. It would have been faster to drive, but that would have required her going later in the day to avoid rush hour, and she wasn’t in the mood to dawdle.

Ray had obviously just gotten to his desk; his cup of coffee was still steaming. “Hi,” he said, smiling when he stood to shake Jamie’s hand.

“Hi.” She sat down and said, “Ready to wrap this up?”

Chuckling, he started sorting through his papers. “You don’t waste time, do you?”

“No. Not in business. Besides, I’ve got things to do today.”

“You’re a busy young woman.”

“Yeah, I sure am. I’m got finals to prepare for.”

He stared at her, his hands holding the papers a few inches off the desk. “You’re still in school?”

“Yep. For another week.”

“Amazing,” he muttered, focusing on his tasks once again.

When Jamie was finished signing all of the papers, she called Brendan and arranged to stop by. She was in a hurry, so she went up to Market and grabbed a cab, getting to Brendan’s office in ten minutes. She’d been to the office before, and she was able to navigate the crowded space to find his small office. “Hi,” she said, poking her head inside.

He leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Ahh. You’re a good fix for a bad day.” He got up and kissed her cheek, then they both sat down. “How’d it go?”

“Fine. No problems. We should be able to close in thirty days if the title search comes back quickly.”

“Excellent. Niall and the boys can get together and start making plans for where to start. If they order some of the materials now, they can start work as soon as they close.”

“That’s beyond my ken; I’m just the silent partner. And that’s why I wanted to talk to you. We haven’t talked about how to structure repayment.”

He laughed, showing his teeth. “Funny family, isn’t it?”

“Truly,” Jamie agreed, shaking her head. “But I’d like to have things written down. You never know.”

Brendan grew serious. “That’s true. Do you want me to draw up a contract?”

“Mmm, I don’t think it’s necessary for the family, but, in terms of estate matters I think it’s best.”

“Estate matters?”

“Yeah. If I die, I want to forgive the debt. So I want to make a codicil to my will. If we have a contract, things will be easier for the IRS to understand.”

His smile returned and he gazed at her long enough to make her uncomfortable.

“What?”

“Oh, I was just thinking about how lucky Ryan was to find you. Not many women would worry about how not to get paid back.”

Blushing mildly, Jamie said, “You’ve gotta be prepared. And, even if the cousins aren’t crazy about it, I want to add the interest to the principle and delay repayment until the apartments are rented. I don’t want them to have to scramble to pay me while they’re working.”

“That’s easy to do, but, you’re right—they won’t like it. They’ll know they’d never get a deal like that from a bank.”

“Sure they could. Well, not a bank, but lots of investors would make a deal like that.”

“With a bonus to the investor.”

“I’ll get the bonus, Bren,” she said, rolling her eyes. “The interest gets added to the principle, and that makes the total amount repaid higher than if they paid it down from the start.”

“Someone has been studying real estate financing,” he said, smiling.

She grasped her throat. “I hate it, but it’s coming in handy. But as soon as my finals are over, I’m going to start reading those books my mom gave me for graduation. And I’m certain that there isn’t one of them that concerns real estate financing.”

“Good for you. It’s hard to get any recreational reading in while you’re in school, isn’t it?”

“Sure is. But I’m gonna spend the summer with your sister and a batch of guilty pleasures.” She paused. “Well, your sister is a guilty pleasure, but I’m also gonna have some fun with my books.”

Late that morning Ryan encountered Mia, who was turning into the O’Flaherty/Evans driveway. “Hey,” Ryan said, leaning into the open window.

“Hey, yourself. Want a ride?”

“Nah. I like to walk. Lets me get into softball mode. You coming over with Jamie to watch our game?”

“I think so. I have a final at 2:00, but I should be done by 3:00.” She looked at the clock on the dash. “Why are you going so early?”

“I’m going to work out with a couple of my teammates. Nothing too intense. Nice wheels, by the way,” Ryan said, stepping back to admire the British racing green Jaguar.

“My mom’s. I’ve just gotta figure out how to get it back to her.”

“Why didn’t you let us come get you? You know we would’ve been glad to.”

Mia gave her a deadpan look. “You’d carry me if I needed you to. You guys do too much.”

Ryan stuck her head back into the window and comically tried to reach Mia’s lips with her own, but she was making such grotesque faces that Mia laughed while trying to push her away. “But we looooove you,” Ryan crooned. “We loooove you so much!”

“Take that scary face and go do whatever it is you jocks do.”

Resuming her normal behavior, Ryan blew her a kiss and pulled herself from the car. “See you soon. Good luck on your final. And after the game we’ll drive down to Hillsborough to take your mom’s car back.”

“No!” Mia called out to Ryan’s departing body. “I’ll figure something out myself.”

She finished pulling the car in and went into the house via the back door. “James!”

Faintly, she heard Jamie call back. “Mia?”

Mia walked into the dining room, looked around, then went to the table by the front door and scanned the mail. “Yeah. You busy?”

“Nope. Just doing some bills. Be right down.”

Jamie trotted down the stairs a moment later, finding Mia sitting on the edge of the table. They embraced and kissed, then Jamie said, “What’s up? You don’t seem—quite right.”

With a wan smile, Mia said, “You’re not the first to mention that.”

Jamie bumped her with her hip. “You know what I mean. Everything okay?”

Sighing dramatically, Mia stood and walked over to the sofa, collapsing onto it. “Yeah.” Her legs dangled over the arm of the sofa, and she stared at the ceiling. “I have a final this afternoon, and all finals suck. Plus, I never feel great when I’m away from home.” She turned and looked at Jamie, her smile a little more genuine. “I’m seriously messed up when I start calling that crappy apartment home.”

“It’s where you and Jordan live right now, so it’s your current home. This is your more permanent home.”

“More permanent? What’s the expiration date?”

“You know what I mean,” Jamie said, laughing. “We’ll eventually live in the city. Then that house will be your home.”

“Gotcha.” Mia turned a little and gazed at the ceiling again. “Don’t try to move without telling me our new address.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. So, how was your visit with your parents?”

“Not bad. We had some minor fireworks about my coming out to my grandparents, but Jordy straightened me out about that.”

“I assume you don’t mean that literally,” Jamie said, smirking.

Mia turned and caught the smirk. “No, she can’t make me stop loving her, even to please my parents. She just reminded me that it’d be a better idea to do it with some planning. She was right, as usual.”

Jamie took a slip of paper, wadded it up, and threw it at Mia. “They can be annoying, can’t they?”

“Who? Our girlfriends?”

“Yeah. Ryan’s always right, too. Drives me nuts.”

Scooting around so that her head hung over the seat, Mia put her hands to her throat. “It’s sickening. They’re both so mature.” Her smile faded as she added, “Hey! So are you!”

“That’s why you love me.” Jamie smiled confidently. “You’ll always be the one that people think is younger. One day you’ll thank me.”

Sliding back into a fairly normal position, Mia nodded. “I guess that’ll come in handy.”

“Wanna go to Ryan’s game with me?”

“Yeah. I ran into her when I was turning into the driveway. She volunteered you to follow me to Hillsborough so I can give my mom her car back.”

“Cool. I can stop by and…never mind.” She shook her head quickly, looking a little flustered.

“Oh, right, your mom’s gone.”

“Right. She’ll be home next week.”

“Kinda freaky that she’s gonna miss your graduation. What’s she doing, anyway?”

“Uhm, I’m not sure. She’d made her plans before she knew when the date was. She said she’d be happy to change things around, but that seemed silly.”

Mia’s legs dropped to the floor as she sat up. “You don’t look like you think it’s silly. You look like I feel—kinda…abandoned,” she finished when Jamie gave her a quizzical look.

“Oh. Right.” Jamie crossed her arms over her chest, almost looking like she was hugging herself. “I’d rather have her here, but it’s not a big deal. She had some things she wanted to do, and she would’ve had to rearrange a bunch of stuff. I felt silly asking her to change plans.”

“But you wish she would have insisted.” Jamie’s mouth opened, then shut. Mia got up and sat on the arm of Jamie’s chair. “She should have just changed her plans without asking if you minded. That’s not like your mom. Your new mom, that is.”

Chuckling soundlessly, Jamie nodded. “No, it’s not really like my new mom. But she would’ve changed in a second if I hadn’t insisted.”

“Still…” Mia put her hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “I’d be hurt, too.”

“Ugh.” Jamie shook her head. “Let’s talk about something lighter. This is kinda depressing me.”

Mia sat on the floor, then lay down and put her feet in Jamie’s lap. “Take off my clogs and rub my feet, will ya?”

“Who could resist such a lovely invitation?” Jamie tugged the shoes off and tickled Mia’s insteps, making the feet shake and twitch.

“Rub ’em!”

Tsking at her, Jamie took one foot and started to manipulate it, stretching the tendons and muscles. “Feel good?”

“Yep.” Mia put her hands behind her head and said, “Let’s talk about sex. That always cheers me up.”

“Oh, God,” Jamie moaned. “I’ve been on a…I don’t even know what to call it. If Ryan doesn’t wanna have sex every day, I act like she’s committed a crime. Thank God she takes hints. She came at me yesterday morning like…well, I don’t even know how to describe it. But she got me good.” She grinned evilly.

“Oh, that’s the look of a satisfied woman.”

“I don’t have words,” Jamie admitted. “She actually got me so good I didn’t even think about sex when we went to bed last night, and I haven’t forced her to service me yet today.” She giggled. “I think she’s happy to have a few hours off.”

“That’s good news that you’re feeling so sexy and she’s keeping up.” Mia’s smile was bright and perky. “No more aftereffects from the carjacking?”

“No, doesn’t seem to be. She seems like her old self, except she’s not as ravenous as she used to be. Like I said, she takes hints very well, but I think she’s doing it because she knows I’m hot for her. She says her drive is down a little because she feels comfortable with me, but I don’t think we’ve been together long enough for her to be comfortable.”

“She taking you for granted?”

“No, nothing that severe. It’s just that I had to set a fire under her to make her act like she used to when she was jumping on me every few hours.”

“Oh, I understand that. I don’t feel as needy, I guess, as I used to.”

“That’s kinda what Ryan said. She’s ready to go if I make the first move…”

“But you don’t like to,” Mia said, finishing her sentence.

“No, I usually don’t. But once in a while, it’s kinda fun.”

“We pretty much take turns,” Mia said thoughtfully. Her contemplative expression morphed into a sly smile. “She can top me really good when she’s in the mood. She’s got the gift.”

“I don’t think I have that gift. Or if I do, I don’t like to use it very often.”

“Whatever works for you. I just think it’s funny that a year ago you were worried about being alone with her and now you’d let her—do anything!” Mia started to laugh, but stopped when Jamie slowly shook her head. “You don’t?”

“Nope. Not everything. But we’re much more relaxed with each other. Everything isn’t a big deal now. She can pull out a sex toy and we don’t have to discuss it like the Maastricht Treaty before I’ll let her use it.”

“That’s progress. Good progress. So what won’t you do?”

“Kinda personal,” Jamie said, pinching a toe.

“Oh, please. You can’t start holding out on me now.”

“Well, it is pretty personal.”

“Huh. Personal. There’s only so many options.” Closing one eye, Mia looked up at the ceiling again. “I know you go down on her.”

“And just how do you know that?”

“Well, she’d dump you if you didn’t. She’s not a fool.”

“Ryan’s not like that. She’s doesn’t have a list I have to satisfy.”

Mia smirked. “You are actually trying to tell me that Ryan would let you go this long without going down on her?”

“Well, she’d probably have urged me…” Jamie stopped and laughed. “She’d grab my face and hold it there until I started licking. She’s patient, but not that patient.”

“Thank you for your honesty. But even if I didn’t know better, I’ve heard her begging you to move just a little to the left or the right. You only do that when somebody’s going down on you.”

“Damn!” Jamie tossed the foot from her lap, only to have it dropped right back on her thigh. “Did you used to sit by our door?”

“No. But neither one of you is very quiet. If I had my door open, I’d hear you guys going at it all of the time. Like you never heard us.”

“Harder, harder!” Jamie yelled, then panted heavily. “Harder, Jordy!”

Mia dug her heel into Jamie’s belly. “Smartass.”

“A couple of times Ryan wanted to take you in to make sure your cervix was still intact. You like it rough, girl.”

“Maybe Jordy just likes to give it to me very, very gently.” She stuck her tongue out. “So, if it’s not giving head it has to be…butt love.” She bared her teeth as her eyebrows rose. “That’s it!”

“Yes, you wily detective. I don’t let her go there.”

“Why not?” Mia looked genuinely puzzled. “It’s fun. Mixes things up a little.” She paused for a second, then said, “But you go there on her, right?”

“Occasionally,” Jamie allowed, smirking. “When she’s been a good girl.”

“Damn. She puts up with that?”

“With what?”

“With…having limits.”

“Everyone has limits,” Jamie said. “I wouldn’t let her hurt me, no matter how much she wanted to.”

“Yeah, yeah, everyone has limits, but if Ryan likes ass-play I’m surprised she doesn’t give you a hard time about it.”

“Never.” Jamie shook her head. “She’d never do that. She lets me be me. And I try my best to let her be who she is. If she really needed me to do something, I’d do it—unless it was really disgusting.”

“So, you don’t think it’s disgusting?”

“Mmm, no, not really, which surprises the heck out of me. I can appreciate that there are a lot of nerves around the area, and Ryan comes in a second when I touch her there. It’s hard to think of something being disgusting if my baby likes it.”

“Has she tried to do it to you?”

“Sure. She tries everything.”

“And you say no?”

“Yeah. I’ve said no very clearly. I don’t think she’ll try again if I don’t ask for it.” She chuckled quietly. “She gets really close, though. I think she thinks I don’t notice.”

“So why not let her take a dip?”

“Honestly?”

Mia gazed at her drolly. “No. Lie to me. You know I love it.”

Laughing, Jamie pushed Mia’s foot off and lay down on the floor next to her. She rolled onto her side and whispered, “It’s secret.”

“I won’t tell.” Mia ostentatiously crossed her heart. “Promise.”

“I have to keep her hungry.” Jamie rolled onto her back and crossed her arms, looking very satisfied with herself.

Now Mia rolled over and braced her head on her hand. “Hungry? Hungry for ass-play?”

“No, it just worked out that way. It wasn’t planned.”

“You’re gonna have to give me a little more, babe. I’ve got nuthin’.”

Jamie rolled back onto her side and mirrored Mia. “When we were first together, she was very patient with me. Thank God,” she added, laughing. “She just pushed me a little bit at a time, making sure she wasn’t asking for too much.”

“That makes sense. That’s what I did with Jordy, until we’d been together about two weeks. Then I let her have it.” She giggled demonically.

“Ryan’s more patient than you are. It took her a couple of…months, no, it was probably weeks, too, before she made it clear she wanted me to go there.”

“But you wouldn’t?”

“No, I did it, and it was fine. But I didn’t want her to do it to me. I was nowhere near ready for that. I’d just gotten used to her going down on me, for goodness sake.”

“Damn, I can’t believe you were with Jack that long and didn’t do that every weekend.”

“Believe it,” Jamie said somberly.

“So you’ve just made up your mind, huh?”

“No, not really. But it’s become kind of a game. She really wants me to let her do that, but it’s fun to say no.”

“It’s never fun to say no,” Mia said. “Yes is the fun word.”

“Not always. She’s the one with all of the experience and she’s usually the one who directs things. It’s fun to make her want something that she can’t have. I wasn’t really clear about this until I realized I was doing it on purpose. So I thought about it and realized that I wanted to make her want things that I wouldn’t give her.”

“Why? That seems nuts.”

Excitedly, Jamie said, “No, no, it’s not, really. It’s a way of keeping some things off limits to keep her interested. I mean, I know she loves me and she’d love me if I let her do everything or not much at all. But there’s a certain…look she gets in her eyes when she’s just a little frustrated. I can just see her mind working, figuring out how to get me to let her do everything in the world. It keeps her engaged. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, I guess it does. She clearly likes to be a bad girl, so keeping something in the bad category is probably a good idea.”

“You and Jordy don’t have things like that?”

“Hell no!” Mia said, laughing. “I just put her hand or her mouth where I want it and she goes to town. She gets so carried away I don’t think she realizes half of what she does until it’s over.”

“I’ve been there,” Jamie said. “But I’m gonna keep some things off limits until we’ve been together for a good, long time. I don’t ever want her to think she doesn’t have anything to look forward to.”

“I’d say you think too much,” Mia said, grinning, “but knowing Ryan you have to think a lot to keep up with her.”

“That’s the truth. I’ve gotta stay up nights just to try to keep up with her.”

“Give up, babe. You’re smart for a human, but she’s some kinda other-worldly smart.”

Laughing, Jamie said, “I’m still surprised she didn’t make University Medalist. And knowing her, I wouldn’t have found out about it until she walked up there to give her speech.”

“I know one thing,” Mia said. “She would’ve shaken Madeleine Albright’s hand.”

Jamie rolled her eyes. “She’d never embarrass anyone she disagreed with. But she’d probably try to get a minute alone with her and charm her into changing policies.”

About a half-hour before the softball game, Jamie drove by Jennie’s house to pick her up. She felt guilty that they’d spent so little time with Jennie recently, but she was powerless to change the situation. With Ryan’s practice and game load plus her travel, it was all she could do to keep up with her one class. And Jamie’s schoolwork had been fairly arduous, especially since she wasn’t really drawn to the subjects she was studying. Still, she felt like they’d relegated Jennie to seeing her at softball games, and that was unacceptable.

She gave the horn a quick beep and Jennie came bounding down the stairs, a big grin on her face. “Hi,” she chirped when she got in. She leaned over and kissed Jamie’s cheek, then sat back and buckled her seatbelt.

“Hey. You look particularly sharp today.” Jamie took a second and really looked the girl over. “New haircut?”

“Yep.”

“New shirt?” Jamie reached out and touched the cute striped T-shirt.

“Yep. I’ve been shopping.”

“Cool. I play golf, but shopping’s my real favorite sport.”

“That’s what your mom always says about you,” Jennie said, giggling. “She said that just the other day.”

The car was rolling down the street, but Jamie turned sharply at Jennie’s admission. “You saw my mom?”

“Sure. We went shopping and we got haircuts.” The girl’s speech slowed and she looked unsure of herself. “Is that okay?”

“Oh, sure, of course it is. I love that you and my mom see each other. She just didn’t mention it.”

“Mmm.” Jennie looked confident again as she looked out the windshield. “Probably because it happens all the time. She just doesn’t think to tell you.”

“All the time?” Jamie asked, eyebrows high.

“Sure. If she’s in the city and isn’t busy, she picks me up after school. And if not, sometimes Marta comes and gets me.”

“Marta picks you up?”

Jennie could obviously sense Jamie was out of the loop. “Yeah. It’s no big deal. We don’t do anything special most of the time.”

“Most of the time?”

Jamie’s voice was getting higher with each question, and it was clear that Jennie sensed she was telling too much. “Well, yeah,” she said, a touch defensively. “Sometimes we do something cool, but most of the time Marta gives us a cooking lesson, or your mom helps me with my homework. Then the guy she hired takes me back to Berkeley, and if Heather isn’t busy she helps me, too.”

Jamie shot her another amazed look. “Marta teaches my mom and you how to cook?”

“Yeah. Your mom doesn’t know how. Neither do I,” she added. “Marta says you have to know stuff like that to be able to take care of yourself.”

“I know,” Jamie said. “She taught me.”

“Weird.” Jennie giggled. “Why didn’t your mom learn then?”

“I’m not sure.” Jamie was afraid she was going to cry, so she tried to focus her mind on another topic. “Your hair looks good.”

“Thanks. We both got our hair cut last week. Your mom wanted to look good for the big graduation and I wanted to look good for the little ones. She gave me her tickets,” she added, her voice filled with delight.

“We got tickets for the departmental ceremonies for you, Jen. We just couldn’t get any more for the convocation.” Because we didn’t go out of our way to look on Craigslist, she chastised herself.

“I’m good. I’ve got one for yours and one for each of Ryan’s. You can use the extra for somebody you might’ve forgot.” She smiled happily. “I’m really excited. I’ve never been to a graduation before.”

Good Lord, she’s making me feel like a total asshole!

Now that the end of the season was nigh, and Cal was ranked in the top ten teams nationally, tickets for games were becoming scarce. Jamie was intent on being at the games to support Ryan and the rest of the team, but Jennie had become super-fan, and she would have arrived at nine o’clock for a one o’clock game if Jamie didn’t keep an eye on her. Today’s game was at 3:00, so they arrived at 1:30, the late arrival time making Jennie twitch. But they easily bought three tickets, and Jamie left one at the box office for Mia, who she expected to show up well after the game started.

It wasn’t the best day for a softball game, but it wasn’t supposed to rain. The heavy cloud cover and relatively high humidity made it seem like it would, though. The temperature was in the low sixties, which Jamie knew would make Ryan happy. When it was too chilly, hitting the ball made her lover’s hands hurt, and when it was too hot, the heavy polyester fabric of their uniforms was very uncomfortable.

“Ashley’s got a final at 3:30,” Jennie said, not taking her eyes from the field, where the groundskeeper was working on the pitcher’s mound.

“So she’s not coming?”

“Unh-uh. I guess it’s just us, huh?”

“No, Mia’s coming. But she won’t be here for a while. She has a final, too. Speaking of finals,” Jamie said, reaching over to tousle Jennie’s hair, “when are yours?”

“We start next week. But I’m cool.” The young woman appeared calm and confident, surprising Jamie a little.

“Really?”

Jennie met her gaze. “Really. You can’t get as much help as I get and screw up, Jamie. It’s almost impossible.”

She looked so sincere that Jamie had to stifle a laugh. “You’re doing the work yourself, Jen. Other people are just giving you a hand.”

“I know, but I’d be dead meat if it wasn’t for everybody helping. Your mom especially.”

Once again Jamie was taken by surprise. “My mom?”

Jennie looked at her, puzzled. “You don’t know how much your mom helps me? Don’t you guys talk?”

“Sure, sure, we talk, but she doesn’t tell me what she does every day. I, well, she doesn’t tell me everything.” She ordered her mouth to smile, given how concerned Jennie looked. “Every woman likes to have some secrets. My mom must like to sneak around tutoring.” She whispered this last part and winked.

Jennie laughed. “You mom is so not a sneak. She probably just doesn’t think it’s important.”

“No, that’s not it. She thinks the world of you, Jen. I know that for a fact.”

“Really?” Jennie’s eyes lit up, making her look even younger than she was. “For sure?”

“For sure.” Jamie nodded solemnly.

“She’s awesome, Jamie. You got so lucky to have a mom like her. You don’t even know.”

Nodding slightly, Jamie had to admit to herself that Jen might have a point.

“I can tell her almost everything, and that’s so weird for me. I couldn’t tell my mom if something great happened, ’cause she’d think it was bad for me or that I’d stolen it or something.”

Jamie put her arm around Jennie and gave her a long, affectionate hug. She whispered into her ear, “Your mom doesn’t know you very well. That’s all.”

Jennie ducked her head, leaning against Jamie for a minute. “Maybe,” she finally said, her voice a little shaky.

They broke apart and Jamie asked, “What kinds of things can’t you tell my mom?”

“Huh?” The Cal players had just taken the field to begin warm-ups and Jennie was distracted.

“I asked,” Jamie said, tilting Jennie’s chin towards her, “what kinds of things can’t you talk to my mom about?”

“Oh. You know. Just stuff.” Her head swiveled right back to allow her to watch the field.

“No, I don’t. I didn’t confide in my mom very much when I was your age. I’m just wondering how you and I are different.”

“Ha!” Jennie looked at her, clearly amused. “There’s a million ways. Maybe a billion.”

“Name two.”

“Okay. One—Mrs. Evans, I mean Mrs. Smith, I mean Ms. Smith, is your mom. She’s more my…friend, I guess. It’s just different.”

“I can see that. What else?”

“You’re…” Jennie looked at Jamie carefully for almost a minute. “You’re Jamie. I’m never gonna be like you.”

Laughing, Jamie said, “I have no idea what that means.”

“You’re totally different than I could be. You’ve got class and manners and money, and you know all sorts of stuff. You’re like a super adult—just like your mom. I’ve never met people like you.”

“Everyone’s unique, Jen. I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”

“You don’t hang out on the right street corners,” the young woman said, the expression on her face not revealing much.

“You were hanging out with a tough crowd, Jen. They were too old and too experienced for you. You were exposed to too much for someone your age.”

“I know,” she said. “I have to keep my mouth shut a lot of the time at school ’cuz I’ve seen things my friends haven’t seen. I don’t want ’em to know about…you know…stuff.”

“I can see that,” Jamie said, even though she was a little sketchy on what Jennie wanted to conceal. “How about at home? Can you be yourself there?”

Jennie’s expression clouded over just as the sky had done earlier that morning. “Yeah,” she said with a certain degree of either disgust or dismay, Jamie wasn’t sure which. “I have to be myself.”

“Hey.” Jamie put her hand on Jen’s thigh and squeezed it reassuringly. “Is everything okay at home?”

“Yeah,” the girl tossed off. “Fine.”

She said this with such finality that Jamie didn’t think she should pursue it. Instead, she went back to a previous thread of their conversation. “Hey, you didn’t tell me what kinds of things you can’t talk to my mom about. Is there anything on that list that I can help with?”

Jennie looked at her with what could be described as suspicious interest. “Really?”

“Sure. I’m a good listener. And I’m not too many years away from high school.”

“That’s so not normal,” Jennie said, giggling. “You seem lots older than my dad.”

“Hey! I’m only twenty-two. Your dad has to be older than that.”

“He is. He just doesn’t act like it,” Jennie clarified. “But I can’t talk to him about stuff either, so he might as well be old.”

“What is it, Jen?” Jamie grasped her knee and vigorously shook it. “I’m very discreet.”

“You mean you won’t tell?”

“Yeah. That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Not even Ryan?”

“Not if you don’t want me to.”

Jennie laughed softly. “Nah. You can tell Ryan anything. She’s discreet, too.”

“She is. She’s discreter than I am,” Jamie said, chuckling.

“It’s nothing huge. I just don’t have anybody to talk to about sex.”

Trying to keep the composed look on her face, Jamie said, “That’s cool. What do you want to know?”

“It’s not about knowing stuff.” Jennie was quiet for a moment. “Well, maybe it is. How do you know if somebody really likes you?”

“Likes you…as a girlfriend?”

Jennie looked confused. “Oh. I don’t know about that. I don’t think so. But, maybe.”

“Huh?” Now it was Jamie’s turn to bear the look of confusion.

“What if somebody tries to do stuff with you? Not like be girlfriends or anything, just do stuff.”

“I guess it depends on the kinds of stuff you’re talking about.”

“Sex stuff,” Jennie said, looking at Jamie as though she were slow to catch on.

“So you wanna know how you can tell if someone who wants to do sexual things with you really likes you?”

Jennie nodded. “Yeah. I guess.”

I wish Ryan would run up here and sit by us, but scant chance of that. “I think I can answer that, but the bigger question is how you feel about this girl? It’s a girl, right?”

“Uh-huh. Yeah.”

“How do you feel? Do you like her as a girlfriend?”

“No, not at all.” Jennie’s face scrunched into a look of distaste. “No.”

“Then why is it a question? If you don’t like her, that’s all there is to it.”

“Right,” Jennie said, sounding like she was waiting for the punch line.

Now Jamie was sure she was missing something. Something big. “Yeah. If someone likes you, but you don’t like them, that’s the end of it. You tell her you’re not interested.”

Jennie scowled and leaned over to put her forearms on her knees. “Right,” she repeated.

Jamie touched her shoulder. “What do you mean? Did I misunderstand you?”

“No, I guess not. It’s just not that way.”

“What isn’t?”

“Things.” Jennie shook her head and moved her shoulder from Jamie’s touch. “No big deal. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Come on, Jen,” Jamie entreated. “Don’t shut me out.” Jennie didn’t turn to look at her or say a word. “Can I tell you something?”

Jamie took a short grunt as permission.

“Ryan and I argue about things like this all of the time.”

Jennie turned quickly and stared at Jamie. “Things like what?”

“Like not talking about things that bother us. We both do it. And we both hate it when the other one does it.”

Jennie smiled slowly. “Ryan always likes to talk about stuff.”

“Yeah, she usually does, but if I don’t want to talk, she shuts down and won’t talk to me at all. It drives me nuts!”

“Then why don’t you talk?”

“I’m not always ready to,” Jamie said. “Or I might be upset about something or embarrassed about it. Or sometimes I’m sure she won’t understand.”

With another laugh, Jennie said, “Ryan understands everything.”

“No, no, she really doesn’t, hard as that is to believe. Ryan has her faults, too. Not as many as most humans, but she has some.”

“Whatever you say,” Jennie said, clearly trying to humor Jamie.

“Well, even if you don’t believe Ryan has faults, I can guarantee that I do. And one of mine is not talking about things I really should be talking about.”

“Like what?”

Jennie’s open, innocent expression made Jamie regret bringing the whole subject up. “Oh, like every once in a while I’ll do something that I realize was silly.”

Jennie’s interest grew. “Like what?”

“Uhm…well, the other day,” she forced herself to think of a way to use the story without traumatizing Jennie. “I came home and Ryan was…eating dinner without me. She was eating something in the fridge that I wanted to share with her. You know how much she eats,” she added for verisimilitude. “Well, I’d really been looking forward to eating with her, and now I couldn’t.”

Jennie’s skepticism showed. “You look forward to eating with her?”

“Yeah, I do. Especially if it’s something really delicious that we don’t have every day.”

“What was it?”

“Mmm…something French. Very rare.”

“Okay,” Jennie said, clearly still not convinced. “So what happened?”

“I got really angry that Ryan did that. But I didn’t tell her why I was angry, because I was embarrassed about being angry about something so immaterial.”

Jennie snickered. “That was pretty silly.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But everyone overreacts sometimes.”

“Did you have PMS?”

“You know,” Jamie said, rolling her eyes, “I did. I hate to admit it, but I really do get short tempered before my period.”

“Me too. I cry easy, too.”

“Oh, me too. Like a faucet.”

“So what happened?” Jennie asked, now looking like she was fully invested in the story.

“Ryan wanted me to tell her why I was upset, but I wouldn’t. So she got mad and stopped talking to me. She just stared at me,” she said dramatically. “With those big, blue eyes.” She made her eyes big and stared at Jennie. “And she kept that up for a whole day. Just those eyes. Staring. At me.” She reached up and put both hands around her neck. “I was going nuts!”

“She didn’t talk at all?”

“The bare minimum. And everything she said made me madder. It could have really gotten out of hand.”

“What happened?”

“Oh, the usual. Ryan acted all adult and apologized for eating all of the food. She said she didn’t need for me to tell her why I was mad, either. She’s so mature,” she said, sticking her tongue out like she was ill.

“That’s funny! But…there’s one thing I don’t get. If she apologized for eating everything, how come she didn’t know that’s why you were mad?”

“Oh. She…guessed. Yeah, she guessed. But she didn’t make me actually say that’s what I’d been angry about. That was the mature part.”

“That’s kinda cool,” Jennie said, grinning happily. “I don’t ever see you guys fight or anything. It’s nice to know you’re not perfect.”

“I wish we were. But we’re a long, long way from perfect. Sometimes I feel like we’re not even average.”

“You’re a lot better than average.”

“Some days, but not always. Everyone makes mistakes, Jen. And we make plenty. Now, how about telling me some more about this sex thing? I know I didn’t understand exactly what you were talking about, but I want to. I’m interested.”

Jennie took a breath and held it for a second. “It’s not a big deal. There’s just a girl who likes me, I guess, but I don’t like her. I guess I don’t know what to do to…keep her away from me.”

“Ahh. Things like that have happened to me, too. It’s a tough situation.”

“That happened to you?”

“Yeah. In high school a lot of guys asked me out, and I didn’t always want to go.”

“Asked you out? Out where?”

“For a date.”

Jennie laughed. “Nobody’s askin’ me out for a date. I don’t know anybody who’s ever gone on a date.”

“You don’t?”

“No. People don’t do that anymore. They just hang out.”

“So…what are we talking about?”

Jennie patted Jamie in much the same way Jamie had patted her earlier. “It’s no big deal. Really. I’ll just do what you said and say I’m not interested. I can do that.”

“Are you sure? I’m happy to talk about this.”

“I know. But it isn’t important. I can handle it.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am. But thanks, Jamie. I like hearing about you guys. Makes me feel like I might be able to find a girlfriend someday.”

“Oh, you will. I guarantee it. You’re as cute as a bug, Jennie. The girls are gonna love you.”

Mia arrived in the bottom of the seventh, squeezing into the tiny space Jamie and Jennie made for her. “What’s rockin’?” she asked.

“You missed everything!” Jennie declared. “Nobody’s scored and Heather’s got a two hitter going!”

“So I missed…nothing?” Mia asked, grinning.

“Good nothing,” Jennie said. “This is only the third time Heather’s started, you know.”

“No, I didn’t. Is she the pitcher?”

Jennie rolled her eyes and turned to stare at the field again. Mia giggled, winking at Jamie.

Jackie came to the plate and watched one pitch sail wide. She caught the next pitch with the fat of her bat, sending it deep to left field. Jackie dropped her bat and watched it leave the field, then she sauntered around the bases while Jennie and Jamie and the rest of the Cal crowd stood and cheered.

People started to leave and Mia asked, “What’s up?”

“Game’s over,” Jennie said. “Heather wins!”

“Woo-hoo!” Mia yelled. “We get to leave.”

Jim and Kayla arrived home after a long day at the office and an even longer reception at the Swedish embassy. Jim wanted to attend because a major Swedish technology company did a lot of business in California, and he’d talked Kayla into accompanying him. She went in her professional capacity, and spent the evening talking to Swedish functionaries at approximately her level of importance. By the time they returned to the hotel, both were anxious to get off their feet and have a snack.

“A good caterer could make millions in this town,” Jim said as Kayla searched through the armoire that housed both the television and the few edibles he kept in the suite.

“Let’s order a pizza,” Kayla said. “I don’t think I had five bites of food tonight.”

He shrugged. “Okay. We haven’t done that in a long time.” He went to the phone and dialed the one place they’d found that had decent pizza and ordered what Kayla liked—vegetarian with light cheese. When he hung up, he untied and removed his shoes and socks, then took off his suit pants and hung them neatly over a chair. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“No,” Kayla said, smiling. “I’ve seen you in your underwear.”

“I meant that you’d have to answer the door when the delivery comes,” he said, chuckling.

“Ooo, I was just about to go put on as little as possible. I’m so sick of being dressed up that I’m nauseated.”

“I’ll put my pants back on. They’re easier than…” he sidled up next to her and ran his hands over her ass, “…a dress and a bra and…” His fingers slipped down her legs, searching for signs of interesting underwear.

“Just pantyhose today. Sorry,” she said, giving him a quick kiss. “But you’re right. Slacks are easier. I’ll go change into something more nonexistent.” She waved and opened the door to her studio apartment, leaving him to deal with the delivery.

Kayla didn’t return until the doorbell rang. When she did, she was wearing a snug black camisole and matching close-fitting, boy-cut panties. “Feed me,” she said, heading for the box on the table. Not bothering to use the plates that came with the order, she put the box on the coffee table and grasped a piece before she sat down. She tilted her head back and let the vegetable-laden slice fill her mouth. Biting, she hummed with pleasure, then sat down heavily and inelegantly. “Nothing better than watching TV in your underwear while you eat pizza,” she declared. “Reminds me of college.”

Jim once again removed his slacks and added his tie to the neat pile of clothing. He sat next to Kayla while he unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt and then unfastened his cuffs and rolled up the sleeves. “So…did you and your roommates all sit around in your underwear?” She gave him a puzzled look and he added, “Your sexy underwear?”

“Uh-huh,” she said, playing along. “We all dressed up in the sexiest things we had—thongs, G-strings, push-up bras. Then we’d eat pizza and lick any drips off each other with our hot, wet, pulsing tongues. Half the time we’d wind up in a pile, having wild, ravenous sex.” She gave him an evil look and said, “Sounds like dinner time at Jamie and Ryan’s house, doesn’t it?”

“For Christ’s sake!”

He looked like he was on the verge of vomiting, making her laugh so hard she nearly cried. “You deserve it! Everything a woman does isn’t centered on sex. Unlike guys,” she added, smirking.

“I’ll never be able to have another college girl fantasy,” he pouted.

“I’ve seen your porn,” Kayla deadpanned. “One of those DVDs will work for you.”

“Porn isn’t the same as a real fantasy. Thinking of you and some other girls at school is so much better. Are you sure you’ve never been with a woman?”

“I refuse to answer on the grounds that I might want to make up a story to get you off some day.”

“Good answer!” he said, beaming with happiness. “I tell you, you’re the perfect girlfriend.”

“Emphasis on the ‘girl,’” she said quietly, looking away.

“Huh? What’s that mean?”

She took another bite of her pizza, her mouth forming another small smile. “Part of what you like about me is my age. A big part,” she emphasized. “Once I have a few crow’s feet, you’ll start looking for a replacement.”

He scowled, turning his head so he didn’t have to look at her. “I know we have the three strikes and you’re out law in California, but does it apply to non-criminal behavior?”

“I’d probably give you three,” she said, “but I know three of your strikes, not including me. And I’m sure there have been others.” She touched his shoulder, softening her voice. “It’s who you are. You like young lovers, Jim. You’re not going to change.”

He got up and moved to a chair on the other side of the coffee table. He didn’t take any pizza with him, and it looked as though he’d lost his appetite. “I had a long talk with my father when he was here and I’ve been thinking about how I’ve behaved in the past.” He shook his head, his sandy hair falling across his forehead. “I don’t like what I’ve become, Kayla. I don’t want to be the dirty old man chasing women just for their perky breasts. I want more than that.”

“You had more than that. Your wife was beautiful, smart, funny, and as rich as hollandaise sauce. What more could you have wanted?”

“I was stupid. Just stupid.” He folded his arms across his chest, looking like a boy pouting after a lecture from his mother. “I wasn’t ready to get married. We never should have done it. Everyone would have been happier.”

“Why did you?”

He sighed, looking tired. “Catherine was pregnant. It was all my fault, and I punished myself, and her, by marrying her. I love Jamie more than anything in this world, but our marriage was a mistake. A big mistake. Catherine would have been better off if she’d gotten an abortion.”

“But you wouldn’t have Jamie.”

“I know. But I would have had other children when I was older and more settled. It just came at such a bad time. There was so much pressure.”

“Her parents?”

“Yes. They both wanted her to have an abortion.”

“They did?” Kayla dropped her pizza slice back into the box. “That’s an odd reaction.”

“Not really. She was too young, too inexperienced. She got pregnant the first time we had sex. I was so sure she was going to continue to hold out that I didn’t even have a condom with me. Getting drunk and deflowering a lovely young woman in a car and creating a human life because of my negligence is not something I’m proud of. As a matter of fact, I’ve never told anyone the circumstances.”

“Wow.” She stared at him, waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, she said, “What do you wish you’d done?”

He looked at her for a moment, his brow knitted. “I wish I’d never met Catherine. She was too good for me. I wish I’d just kept fooling around with easy women until I finally had it out of my system.”

“How long would that have taken?” she asked, shrugging off the sting of his comment about easy women.

“I don’t know.” He relaxed in his chair, thinking. “It would have been nice to spend my first years as a lawyer just having fun and blowing off steam. I probably would have been ready to marry when most of my peer group was. Maybe when I was thirty, thirty-five at the latest.”

“And you think that would have changed you?”

He nodded. “Yes, I do. I’ve been thinking about this a lot. I’m in some state of continued immaturity, according to my father. I think I might have actually grown up if I’d been able to be wild for a few more years.”

“But you seem to need variety, Jim. I mean, come on, you’ve been cheating for how long?”

He dropped his head and said, “Since the first year we were married.”

“Nice,” Kayla said, her voice filled with disgust. “While Catherine was pregnant?”

He nodded, his lips pursed together. “I was working so hard and she was so needy. I felt trapped. I didn’t want to be married and she didn’t either. We were both terrified about the baby and…I…when I was with another woman I could be free again. Just for a little while.”

“That’s pretty fucked up.”

“I know, I know.”

“I don’t know if you can change, Jim, but you’ve definitely got your work cut out for you.”

Jamie and Ryan were lying in bed that night, while Jamie recounted as much of her conversation with Jennie as she could recall. Ryan was listening carefully, asking a few questions. When Jamie was finished, Ryan said, “Tell me again how she put it when she said a girl was asking her for sex.”

“I don’t remember, honey. I was puzzled because I knew I wasn’t on her wavelength. I was talking about going out on dates with boys, and she was talking about some girl trying to get her to do sexual things. I still don’t know what she meant.”

“Is this someone from school?”

“I…I guess. She didn’t say.”

“Did she say anything that would let you guess what kinds of things she was talking about?”

“No. She just said it was sex things. I assumed she meant making out or something like that.”

Ryan’s gaze sharpened. “But she didn’t specifically say that.”

“No. I’m sure she didn’t.”

“Mind if I ask her?”

“No, feel free. I know I didn’t do a good job.”

“You did great. Really. Spending time with her and talking to her about her life is a very big deal. That’s exactly what she needs.”

Jamie cuddled close and rested her head on Ryan’s chest. “Will I understand our kids better than I do Jennie?”

Ryan’s soft laughter made Jamie’s head bounce. “No guarantees. But we’ll know our kids as well as possible. We should be able to tell when something’s bothering them.”

“But if they take after me, they won’t talk.”

Ryan chuckled. “I’ll have the kids. They’ll be hyperactive, but they’ll talk.”

PART ELEVEN

CATHERINE WOKE ON Saturday morning, her nose itching where Giacomo’s chest hair tickled it. She wasn’t sure how long they’d been asleep, but from the pale light coming in the window it looked like it was almost dawn. She was amazed that she didn’t feel jet-lagged, but her mind was humming along at its usual morning pace.

She stirred a tiny bit and heard Giacomo’s sleepy voice ask, “Why doesn’t your daughter like me?”

Lifting her head from his chest, Catherine looked at her lover. He was barely awake, but he looked deeply troubled. “It’s not you,” she said, moving up to kiss his cheeks, then his lips. “She doesn’t like that I’m seeing a married man. She thinks it’s wrong on every level.”

“And what about you? Why have you changed your mind about being with me?”

“You look so worried,” Catherine said. She scooted up and pressed Giacomo’s head against her chest, ignoring the bristly stubble of his beard as it rubbed against her skin.

“I am,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to change your mind again. I can make myself sick thinking about the day I received your letter.”

“My poor dear,” she soothed. “I never should have written to you that way. I honestly didn’t realize how deep your feelings were.”

He tilted his head, gazing up at her, his expression so sad that her stomach flipped. “I always made it clear. Didn’t you believe me?”

Hating to tell the truth, but resolved to do so, Catherine said, “I suppose I didn’t. I know this isn’t a good excuse, but Jim lied to me so consistently that I have trouble believing you. And it’s still hard for me to believe that a handsome young man like you truly desires an older woman. It’s almost always the other way around at home.”

Giacomo showed a wan smile. “Age doesn’t matter. I’d be attracted to you if you were eighteen or fifty-eight.”

“Do you…do you prefer older women?”

His smile grew. “Do you think I have an attraction only to women older than me?”

Catherine shrugged, a little embarrassed.

“It’s not true. Tessa is older than I am, but I’ve loved women who were younger.”

“We don’t have to discuss this—”

“No, it’s good to talk. And I like to think about why I do things.” His eyes closed for a few moments, his forehead lined with thought. “The first woman I had sex with was much older. Maybe that let me see that women of all ages can make magic.”

Catherine nodded. “The logical part of me knows that. But Jim always wanted young women. The girl he’s dating now is just a few years older than Jamie. That has always made me feel…old and worn out.”

Laughing, Giacomo turned his head and nuzzled between Catherine’s breasts. “I’m the one who’s worn out! I think we should go back to sleep until at least noon!”

“I don’t feel worn out when I’m with you.” She stroked his dark head, running her fingers through the thick hair. “I feel young and energetic and so very alive.”

“While I feel old and tired and depleted,” he joked. “You’ll be looking for a younger man to keep up with you.”

“That won’t happen, Giacomo. You’re just perfect for me.”

He pulled away and scooted up to her eye level. “I had a perfect idea during the night! I thought of what you said about not being able to be ourselves here in Milan. So, let’s go to Capri!”

“Capri? Do you know a place there?”

“Yes. Several. When I was young, my family went often to Capri. I have many wonderful memories there and I’d like to share them with you.”

“That sounds like fun,” Catherine said. “When should we go?”

“After you hold me in your arms and let me sleep. I must replenish myself to be able to love you the way I wish to.”

Catherine kissed him, while squeezing him tightly. “How could I ever say no to a request like that?”

Giacomo was awake and brimming with energy when he woke again. Shortly after he’d fallen asleep, Catherine had snuck out of bed and showered and dressed. “Cara!” he called. “You’ve abandoned me!”

She started down the hall, but he met her before she’d gone three steps. “What a delightful vision,” he purred, giving her one of his most lascivious looks. “We can go to Capri another day.”

“No, no, no,” she said, pinching his chin. “I’m not going to drain your energy just when you’ve gotten it back. We’ll travel today and spend tomorrow in bed.”

“A wonderful plan,” he agreed, smiling broadly. “I’ll be ready in moments. Then we can have some breakfast and go to the station.”

“Station? We’re taking the train?”

“Yes, yes, it’s the easiest way. It’s how my family always went.”

“All right. I’ll go down to the bar and buy you an espresso. I already have some bread.”

“I’d like a double, please. I have to be at my best!”

The ride was long, but Giacomo had secured first class accommodations, so they were able to enjoy the trip in private. As the train sped past the industrial cities and small towns, Catherine mused that Giacomo never allowed her to pay for anything unless the cost was inconsequential. He’d bought the train tickets, and she knew he’d pay for their hotel. She had no idea how much money he had, but she guessed he did well. There was something nice about not knowing how well fixed he was, and she hoped she would never find out.

Giacomo was holding her hand and he gave it a slight squeeze. “Are you dreaming?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling at him. “I was day-dreaming.”

“What is it that you dream of?”

She stretched and moved her shoulders back and forth. “I dream of seeing the ocean in Capri. I’ve only been there once, I think, and it was many years ago.”

“You will love it,” he said with his usual zeal. “I haven’t been in a long time, either. But it will be wonderful.” He brought Catherine’s hand to his lips and kissed it, then spent some time looking at it closely. “Such lovely hands you have, so tender and soft.”

“They haven’t been subjected to much hard work,” she teased.

“No, that’s not it. They’re gentle and delicate, just as you are. If you were a grape-picker, they’d be just as gentle.”

“Giacomo,” she said, her voice suddenly serious. “Why do you love me?”

He turned and blinked, his dark eyes searching her face. “Why do you ask me that? Do you not believe that I do?”

“No. I believe you. But I… I’m not sure what made you love me. I’d really like to know.”

Looking puzzled, he spent a few moments gazing contemplatively out the window. “I don’t think I have the ability to tell you why I love you, Catherine. That would be like listing the reasons I love art. I don’t have words for the things that mean the most to me. Feelings and words don’t work together very well.”

“Never mind,” she said, giving his leg a squeeze. “It’s not important.”

“If you asked the question, it’s important,” he said. “I know you.”

She looked at him curiously. “Do you?”

“Yes, I think I do. And when you ask a question like that—there’s a reason.”

“Not a good reason. I just,” she looked away, thinking for a bit. “I didn’t know why Jim loved me, if he did.”

“Then I’ll try to tell you.”

His expression grew serious and thoughtful. Catherine put her arm around him and said, “Don’t worry about it. It was just a passing question.”

“No, I’m going to make the words come,” he said, lips pursed. “Give me a moment.”

She hugged him, then sat back in her seat, delighting in watching him struggle with the question. After a few minutes, he looked at her and said, “I have some explanations. They’re not the best, but, as I said, this isn’t something I can put words to.”

“I understand,” she said, unable to stop smiling at his earnestness.

“I love the way you inhabit your body.”

She blinked. “Pardon? What do you mean by that?”

“Did I not say it properly? I mean that you seem very confident and comfortable in your body.”

“Hmm, that’s what you said, but I don’t know what you mean.”

He looked a little unsure of himself, but he explained. “Some people look like they’ve borrowed a body that they’d like to return. You look like you fully inhabit yours. That’s very appealing.”

“Thank you,” she said, still not really seeing his point.

“You walk with a beautiful, graceful fluidity. You’re never clumsy or ungainly. Your body is you. Do you understand?”

“I think so. Yes, that makes sense.”

“You’re very elegant, very refined. There is nothing coarse about you. Every part is beautiful. Your manners, your speech, everything.”

She smiled and shrugged. “My mother’s influence.”

“Whoever guided you did a very lovely job. Your voice is never harsh or grating. You have no bad habits at all! I’ve never known a woman who didn’t annoy me in some way.”

“You shouldn’t annoy someone you love,” she said, leaning over to kiss him.

“No, you shouldn’t, but everyone does!”

“You don’t annoy me, either. It must be fate.”

“I’m very thankful for fate if she brought you to me. Your elegance and sophistication would be enough for any man, but you’ve been blessed with a wonderful mind. I admire the way you think, Catherine. You have your own views, and I can tell that you don’t parrot other people. You think for yourself, and you express yourself in the most gracious manner. And the best thing about you is that you don’t force your views on others. I admire that very much.”

“How do you know I don’t do that?” she asked, truly mystified.

“Because you’ve never done it to me and I know you don’t do it with your daughter. I recall how sad you were when she was falling in love with Ryan but she wouldn’t confide in you. Even though you were hurt, you didn’t punish her for keeping her secret.”

“I couldn’t very well do that—”

“Of course you could! Most people do! It’s so easy to hurt the people we love when they hurt us. But you don’t do that. I know you don’t.”

“You know a lot of things about me that I’m sure you haven’t had the opportunity to test.”

He gazed at her for a moment, his eyes filled with love. “You don’t test the people you love. Love is built on faith.”

She smiled at him. “That’s beautiful.”

“So is love. I’m not good at telling you why I love you, but I feel so much love for you that it hurts me sometimes. I feel like my heart will break when I look into your eyes when we make love. Why? I don’t know. Why does Carravaggio make me cry? I can’t express why, but he does. That’s what matters.”

Catherine gently touched his cheek, then cupped his chin in her hand. “You’re right. It doesn’t matter why you love me, it only matters that you do. And I believe you do, Giacomo. I truly do.”

The phone rang early on Saturday and Jamie picked it up. “Hello?”

“Jamie. Niall.”

“Hi, Niall. How are things?”

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” she said, smiling. “Just making conversation.”

“Oh. Right. Well, Bren gave us the contract he drew up. Are you sure this is fair?”

“To me?”

He paused for a second. “Yeah. Who else?”

“No one,” she said, very glad the boys hadn’t found a profit-motivated investor. “Yes, it’s perfectly fair.”

“Sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay. We’ll sign.”

“Great. Will I see you at Ryan’s graduation?”

“Uhm, I don’t know. Mam hasn’t told me if I’m going.”

“Well, I hope you do. But you’ll be at the party, right?”

“Right-o. See ya.”

“See ya, Niall.” She hung up and gave her lover a silly smile. “Someone could fleece those boys out of their own clothes.”

“Yeah, but they’d beat the guy to death if they ever found out.”

“Finding out might be a bit of a problem. They’re not particularly savvy when it comes to business.”

“Not particularly,” Ryan agreed, laughing. “That’s what happens when you still live with your parents and never have to make any decisions.”

“Niall doesn’t know if he’s coming to your graduation ’cause your Aunt Deirdre hasn’t told him his schedule.”

“See why he didn’t want to live in his house alone? Can you imagine?”

“The mind reels.”

Later that morning Ryan busied herself around the house, doing things that didn’t need to be done. Maria Los still cleaned the house every week, and she did an excellent job. But Ryan was dusting the books in the library, rearranging them according to some system that was over Jamie’s head.

Taking a book off the shelf, Jamie asked, “Why is George Sand next to Willa Cather?”

“She’s blue,” Ryan replied, not looking at her partner as she continued to dust.

“Which ‘she’ is that?”

“Huh?”

“George Sand is a woman, too.”

“Weird. Well, they’re next to each other because they’re both blue.”

“Explain, please.”

Ryan looked at her for a moment, seemed to take in a breath, then said, “I felt like rearranging. Does it bother you?”

“No, honey.” Jamie touched her back and scratched it lightly. “Bad mood?”

“No. I’m just cleaning.”

“Okay. Clean away.” She started to walk out of the room, then took one more look, seeing that Ryan was organizing the books by the colors of the bindings—something that she hoped her lover would change before anyone had to find anything quickly.

Jamie went upstairs, and when she reached the landing heard Mia call out, “Oh, James.”

“Yes?” She went into the messy room and sat on the bed.

Mia was standing in front of her closet, wearing nothing but a pair of very brief pink panties. “What should I wear?”

“To the game?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to both games?”

“Huh?”

“It’s a double-header. Two games.”

Mia laughed. “Oh sure. I’d go to three if I could find another one.”

“That’s why I asked. Are you sure you wanna come at all?”

“No, I don’t, but I like to support Ryan. And it’s fun to sit with you. For an hour or two, that is. All day on those benches is not my idea of fun.”

“Then come to the first game and leave when you’re bored.”

“Okay. So, what should I wear?”

“It’s nice out, and we’ll be in the sun, so wear something sleeveless.”

“I don’t have anything sleeveless. What to do?” She looked at Jamie with her most angelic expression.

“Come on.” Jamie took her by the hand and led her to the bigger, better stocked closet. “Shirt or dress?”

“Hmm, a dress might be nice for later. I’m gonna go out to dinner with some of my main gays.”

“Are you going to a club after dinner?”

“Probably. The boys love to dance. And look at other boys.”

Jamie chuckled, still looking through her closet. “Hmm, then you’ll need a jacket, too. It’s supposed to get cooler.”

“Oh, all right. If you insist.”

“Here’s a shirt for the game. Do you need shorts?”

“I don’t need them…”

“Here’s some shorts and sandals. Do you need a bra?”

“Oh no, I’ve got bras; I’m just not in the mood.” Mia put on the shorts and shirt, then assessed her look in the mirror.

“Speaking of moods,” Jamie said, “Ryan’s in a bad one.”

“What’s up? PMS?”

“No. She’s anxious about her games, but she won’t say so.”

“Why’s she anxious? She never gets to play enough to have performance anxiety.”

“True. She’s worried because they’re playing Arizona, and they’re in the PAC-10. They haven’t beat ’em this year.”

“So?”

“Well, even though Cal will make it to the NCAAs, they haven’t done well against the PAC-10. If they can’t beat ’em in the regular season, it’ll be even harder in the playoffs.”

“Gotcha. She wants to do well, but she can’t really help much if she doesn’t get to play.”

Jamie looked at her and smiled. “Good guess. I bet that’s it. She must feel powerless, and she really hates that.”

“Who doesn’t? Besides, she’s so good at everything she does, it must drive her nuts to sit on the bench and chew those disgusting seeds.”

Jamie laughed. “She likes the seeds. But I think you’re right about her not playing. So far she’s been cool about it, but she really loves her team and she wants them to do well. Not being able to make a difference must be getting to her.” She kissed Mia on the cheek. “Thanks!”

“No prob. Thanks for the daytime clothes. Now find me something to wear to dinner.”

Jamie and Jennie sat in the fading sun, waiting for Ryan and Heather to leave the locker room after the double-header. “Bad day,” Jamie said.

“6-14 in the PAC-10,” Jennie said, sighing. “Arizona doesn’t seem that much better than us, they just don’t make mistakes like we do.”

“Yeah.” Jamie nodded. “And when Arizona does make a mistake, they don’t seem to get rattled by it. But when Cal makes an error, you can count on a run or two scoring.”

“Yep.” Jennie rested her chin on her fists, looking utterly disconsolate. “Bad, bad day. Heather didn’t play, Ryan didn’t play, Ashley didn’t show up, Heather’s gotta study tonight, and your mom’s gone. I guess I’ve gotta go home.”

The girl looked so sad that Jamie immediately said, “No, you don’t. Let’s go out to dinner.”

The smile reappeared on Jennie’s face. “Really?”

“Yeah. Ryan and I haven’t been out in forever. Unless we’re on a road trip, that is. And that doesn’t count.”

“Sure you want me with you?”

“Absolutely. And you get to pick the place.”

“I can’t do that. I don’t know any place.”

“Well, then pick your favorite food.”

“Pizza.”

“Okay. Ryan will be very happy. There’s always a long wait at our favorite place, so we’ll get to chat for a long time.”

“Cool!” Now Jennie looked as happy as she usually did, and Jamie realized it wasn’t the dinner plans, it was her and Ryan’s company that made the girl happy.

It was dinnertime when Giacomo and Catherine reached Naples, and when they went into the station Giacomo took his cell phone from his pocket and made a call. The station was noisy and Catherine hated to eavesdrop, so she moved away to give him some privacy. She watched him from a distance, smiling privately as he gestured with his hands while he spoke. When he hung up, he walked over to her. “Everything is arranged.”

“Everything?”

“Yes. We’re staying at The Grand Hotel Parker’s and having dinner in the hotel at George’s.” He snuck a look at his watch. “Our reservation is in 45 minutes, so we must rush.”

“You accomplished all of that in just a few minutes?”

He nodded and winked conspiratorially. “I have a service that acts as a concierge for me. They can arrange anything.” He snapped his fingers sharply. “They’ll have a hotel for us in Capri in a few minutes.”

“I think I need the number of this service,” Catherine said, taking Giacomo’s arm to head toward the cabstand.

Late that night, they stood on the balcony of their room, looking at the waxing moon making the water of the Bay of Naples sparkle like gems. “This is so beautiful,” Catherine said, her voice so quiet it was difficult to hear.

“One of the many things I love about you is how exquisitely you experience beauty. I can see it in your eyes. You’re often moved, and often speechless.”

“That’s true,” she said. “That’s one of the things I love about you, as well.” She turned and slipped her arms around him, tucking them under his jacket, relishing the feel of his starched, white linen shirt. “I feel so bonded to you when we look at art together. I know you experience the same level of pleasure I do, even though I’m sure we each have very different reactions to a particular piece.”

“Ahh…art. While we were eating I was thinking about Caravaggio and then I recalled that one of Artemisia Gentileschi’s paintings of Judith slaying Holofernes is at the Museo di Capolodimonte. I think we must stay long enough to see it, don’t you?”

“Just mentioning Caravaggio precipitated that plan?”

“Almost,” he grinned. “I love his painting of Judith, and Artemisia painted it twice. The earlier painting is here, but it’s nearly as good as the later one at the Uffizi. The piece bursts with emotion.” He put his hand over his heart while pretending to swoon.

“You don’t have to go overboard,” Catherine said, trying and failing to move him. “Goodness, you’re hard to move when you don’t want to!”

“But easy when I want to,” he said, once more lifting her and cradling her in his arms for a few moments. “The bay is lovely and Capri prettier still, but neither compares to you.” He kissed her tenderly, then whispered, “To bed?”

“To bed,” she murmured, pressing her lips to his as he carried her inside.

The wait was indeed long at the restaurant, so Jamie, Ryan, and Jennie took a long walk up and down College Avenue. Ryan didn’t wait long to try tactfully to find out what Jennie had been hinting about with Jamie at the previous game. “Who’re you hanging out with these days, Jen?” she asked.

“Same people—my buddies from school.”

“Nobody new?”

“Unh-uh. You get in a group and you kinda stay in it.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Ryan said. “Especially in high school.”

“I bet you were in the jock group,” Jennie said, looking at Ryan with her usual blend of admiration and love.

“Pretty much. I bet Jamie was in the nerd group. What do you think?”

Jennie laughed while Jamie swatted Ryan on the seat. “I was not,” Jamie said. “I was in the ‘hard-studying, well-behaved, respectful’ group. What do you call that?”

“Nerd,” Ryan and Jennie said in unison.

Jamie laughed. “I wasn’t really in that group. I couldn’t have been, since Mia and Cassie were in my clique.”

“I bet you were in the cool kids group,” Jennie said.

“Always was, always will be,” Jamie agreed, winking.

“What about the other girls in your house, Jen? Anybody new? I haven’t been over in a while,” Ryan said.

Jennie’s expression grew guarded and she answered quickly, “Yeah. One girl.”

“What’s her name?”

“Pebbles.”

Jamie fought back a laugh. “Pebbles?”

“Yeah. Dumb name.”

“How old is she?” Ryan asked.

Jennie seemed fascinated by the display in a deli. “My age,” she said. “What’s panini?”

“It’s like an Italian sandwich,” Jamie said. “It’s grilled. You’d like it.”

“Tell me more about Pebbles,” Ryan said.

Jennie looked annoyed, but she answered. “Nothin’ to tell. She’s new, stupid, and lazy.”

“Sounds like a nice girl,” Ryan said, making Jennie look at her to judge her expression. “I’m kidding,” Ryan assured her. “Why’s she stupid?”

“Dunno. But she is.”

“Do you have to hang out with her?”

“Yeah,” Jennie mumbled. “I hafta share a room with her.”

“Mmm,” Ryan nodded. “How are you two getting along?”

“Fine.” Jennie started walking, leaving Jamie and Ryan to exchange puzzled glances.

Ryan caught up with the girl in three long strides. “What’s up? You said she was lazy. Is it hard to get your schoolwork done with her in your room?”

Jennie stopped and Ryan could almost see her mind working. “Yeah,” she said, the light back in her eyes. “It’s hard to study. She’s kinda noisy and she never does any work.”

“And that stops you from concentrating?”

“Yeah.” Now she was nearly smiling. “It’s hard to concentrate. I’m worried about finals.”

“Want me to talk to Sandy about switching you with someone?”

Jennie looked like she was going to leap up and kiss Ryan. “Would you? Do you think she’d do it?”

“I’d be happy to talk to her, Jen. If things aren’t working out, you need to speak up. Tell Sandy or me or Jamie, but you’ve gotta say something.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said, looking down. “I don’t like to complain.”

“It’s not complaining, bud. It’s taking care of yourself.”

“Okay. I’ll try.” She grasped Ryan’s hand and started to run back to the restaurant, dragging Ryan with her and laughing. “I’m starving!”

Later that night, Jamie walked into the bedroom and said to Ryan, “How’re you feeling about today?”

Ryan held the flashcard she was looking at in the air and turned to her partner. “What part of today?”

“The softball part.”

“Oh. Well, it certainly wasn’t how I wanted to finish the regular season. When Pam and Julie banged into each other for that error…” Her look of disgust finished the sentence without words.

Jamie sat on the bed and put her hand on Ryan’s knee. “Was that really bad?”

“Yeah. At least it was to me. When you play a game where one run is usually the difference, you can’t make mental errors like that. You can’t.”

“Why was that mental? I’d think running into each other is pretty physical.”

Ryan smiled a little. “It’s mental because it’s each woman’s job to call the other off if she’s gonna make the play. But people get skittish and they don’t attack the ball. They kinda…” She rolled her head around, looking goofy. “Wander around and hope someone else calls it. I hate that kinda play. If you’re not gonna attack it, get out of the way and let someone else make the play. Hell, Lupe could have dropped back from shortstop and had it.” Ryan looked not only disgusted, but perturbed.

“Makes you wish you were playing, doesn’t it?” Jamie asked gently.

“Shit, yes!” Blowing out a breath, Ryan got up and stalked over to the loveseat, where she proceeded to flop down inelegantly. “Drives me nuts to lose a game like we did today. That error just demoralized the team, and I hate that too. It kills me when I can see them give up.” She smiled and laughed softly. “Makes me wanna grab ’em and knock their heads together.”

“They’re pretty young,” Jamie observed, walking over to sit by her partner.

“Yeah, I know.” Ryan put an arm around Jamie. “But for the past ten years, someone’s been telling every player on that team how to make that play. It’s inexcusable.”

“You’re really worked up,” Jamie said, giving Ryan a sidelong glance. She reached over and touched her jaw. “This muscle is all tense.”

“We’re good, Jamers. We really are. And even though Arizona is better than us, they shouldn’t have been able to sweep us this year. They’re not that much better. I hate to miss opportunities, and we did that today.”

“Maybe you’ll get to play in the NCAAs.”

“Oh, it’s not that. One player isn’t going to turn the tide. It’s a mental toughness thing. Some of the players give in and give up pretty easily. I hate that.”

“I know you do, baby.” Jamie cuddled closer and rested her head on Ryan’s chest. “I like how you didn’t give up on Jennie tonight. I think you got to the root of what’s bugging her.”

“We’ll see. I’ve gotta talk to Sandy and see what she thinks.” She pursed her lips together. “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to get over there this week. She doesn’t work on Sunday, and I’ve got something every minute before I have to leave for Fresno.”

“I could go.”

Ryan patted her absently. “No, that’s okay. We can go together when I get home from the tournament.”

“I just hope Jennie’s not distracted this week. She’s got finals.”

“Oh, damn.”

“Hey, why don’t I call Sandy and see if Jen can stay here this week?”

Ryan smiled brightly. “Good idea. But…” She thought for a moment. “If you come down to Fresno, she’ll be here with just Mia. That’s like having the fox guard the henhouse.”

“Oh, Mia could watch her, but I’d hate to ask her to.” They were both quiet for a few minutes, each pondering the issue. “I wish my mom was home.”

“Hey! Marta is, right?”

“Right. And Jen would be close to school. I’ll call Marta in the morning and ask if she’d mind.”

“She’ll love it,” Ryan said, nudging Jamie with her shoulder. Someone to talk to and cook for.”

“You’re right. She’ll be in heaven. Good idea, O’Flaherty. Keep using that big brain.”

Ryan stretched when she stood. She held her hand out to Jamie and helped her to her feet. “I’m feeling pretty antsy. I don’t normally get so worked up about an error.”

Jamie wrapped an arm around her waist, hugging her. “I know you don’t. You’re putting some pressure on yourself.”

“Yeah.” They got into bed and spent a few moments getting settled. “I need to blow off some steam. I haven’t been able to do that for a long time.”

Jamie braced her head on her good arm. “What would you like to do?”

“Study,” Ryan said, sticking her tongue out and making a face.

“No, really.”

“I’ve gotta study, babe. My final’s on Monday.”

“You don’t need to study all day. You’ve worked hard, baby, and you can’t pack much more into your brain at this point. I think you’d do better if you had some fun tomorrow.”

Ryan laced her hands behind her head. “Ahh, fun. I remember what that was like—barely.”

Jamie tickled her gently. “You poor baby. What would be fun for you?”

“Just about anything, anything that gets my heart racing.”

Jamie put her ear on Ryan’s breast, listening to her heartbeat. “I think we’ve been getting it going pretty good lately.”

“Yeah,” Ryan agreed, chuckling. “But I’d like to do something outside first before we get our hearts racing that way.”

“Boy, the bloom is off the rose,” Jamie teased. “Not even a year and you’d rather play outside than inside.”

Ryan pushed Jamie onto her back and leaned over her. “If I had to choose, I’d choose to stay inside.”

Smiling up at her, Jamie said, “You don’t have to choose. We can play all day.”

“Excellent. Now I’ll sleep like a baby, dreaming about playing with you.”

“And I’ll give you the night off so you can rest,” Jamie said, kissing Ryan’s cheek.

“You’re extremely generous to your sex slave. I appreciate it.”

“Oh, you’ll make up for it tomorrow. No doubt.”

Catherine lay in bed on Sunday morning, so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t hear or feel Giacomo waken. He startled her when he flexed the arm he had around her back and tumbled her onto his chest.

“Good morning.” He grinned, his eyes barely open.

“You’ve been tossing me around like a toy,” she said, giggling.

His expression turned serious and his eyes opened wide. “I won’t do it if it bothers you. But it’s fun.” He shrugged his shoulders, looking boyish.

Catherine kissed his chest several times, making her way up to his mouth. “I like it. It is fun and makes me feel young.”

“You are. You’re young and beautiful and very light. I feel like I could put you in my pocket.”

“I’m not that light. But I like the thought of being very close to you.” She rolled off him and tucked a pair of pillows under her head. “Men have often been tempted to pick me up, and I didn’t use to like it. But when you do it, it doesn’t feel like you’re being possessive.”

His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed a bit. “Other men have been possessive?”

She waved off the comment. “I’m talking about years ago, when I was in high school.” She spent a few moments lightly touching his chest, her expression serious and contemplative. “I was thinking about Artemisia Gentileschi when I woke.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I was thinking about her life and what she was going through when she painted Judith the first time.”

Giacomo nodded somberly. “Ahh…you know her story. She had a very difficult life. I think every woman of that time did.”

“Yes,” she said idly, patting him. “That’s what I was thinking of. To create the kind of beauty she did while she was going through so much pain is remarkable. I so admire people who can go on when things are very hard for them. People like Artemisia give me hope.”

“You know much about art history. Why did you not work in the field?”

“Timing, I suppose. I know I could have been happy working in the arts, but…I chose to marry. Given how much I love Jamie, I’m content with my decision. But my life would have been very different, I think. Working might have given me some confidence, which I sorely lacked.”

“You?” he said, his eyes wide and alert. “You lacked confidence?”

“Very much. Even when I complain about aging, I don’t want to have my youth back. I’m much happier with myself now.”

He hugged her tightly while grinning so infectiously she was sure everyone in the hotel was now smiling. “I can’t imagine being happier with you, so let’s promise not to trade our lives away.”

“I promise,” she said, leaning close to kiss him once again.

After a quick breakfast in a bar, Giacomo and Catherine made a brief visit to the local museum to see the Gentileschi. Neither of them spoke when they looked at the painting, but they held hands the entire time. Catherine finally tore her gaze from the moving painting and nodded at Giacomo’s raised eyebrow. They left the museum and Giacomo hailed a cab, speaking quickly to the driver. Catherine didn’t pay much attention, still thinking about the painting, but when she saw they were nearing the port, she asked, “How are we getting to Capri?”

“You’ll see,” he said, smiling impishly.

Her attempts to elicit more information were met with a playful silence. Giacomo seemed very happy and Catherine could see how much he enjoyed keeping his small secret. When they arrived, he led her to a private dock where he revealed his secret—in the form of a fifteen-meter sailboat. “Goodness,” she said, a little wide-eyed. “I hope you know how to sail, because I’m not much help!”

“Of course I know how to sail,” he said, acting insulted. “My grandmother’s family is from Genoa.”

Catherine was fairly sure that not all Genovese were sailors, but she let the claim pass. “I don’t know that I’m strong enough to hoist the sails. Have you hired a crew?”

“Of course not!” He jumped aboard, then held out a hand to guide her onto the boat. “I want to be alone with you.” Once she was on deck, he wrapped her in his arms and hugged her excitedly. “Just you and me…out on this beautiful bay. What could be better?”

Smiling nervously, she said, “I’ve been sailing my whole life, but I’m not a wonderful sailor.” She surveyed the part of the bay she could see. “It looks a little choppy.”

“But the day is glorious!” He lifted his chin towards the sky, letting the bright sun warm his face. “A perfect day for sailing. We’ll have a wonderful time.”

He was so passionately exuberant that she couldn’t continue to express her reservations. She tried her best to look happy and tamp down the anxiety that was building in her. “How will you manage the whole boat? I can probably get the jib up, but the mainsail is beyond me.”

“Have no worries,” he said firmly. “Everything is set. I have to go settle some business. I’ll be right back.”

Catherine sat in the captain’s chair, surveying the harbor while trying to calm herself. She’d always viewed sailing as a test—one administered first by her father, and then by Jim. Both men had loved the sea and the rigors of sailing as close to the edge as possible. She was sure she would love the water if she were in a canoe on a tranquil lake, but it had never been like that. She had been very happy when Jamie was infected with a love for the sea, and she could let Jim take her alone. It gave them time together, which they loved, and it let her not disappoint her husband when she would be holding on, white-knuckled, while the boat cut a razor-thin edge through the water.

She’d never complained, and she wasn’t sure if her father, Jim, or Jamie knew how fearful she was of racing. She’d always tried to put up a good front, but she knew Jim was often disappointed when she didn’t express the same kind of animated joy that he found in sailing.

Giacomo returned while she was swirling lazily in the chair. He brought their bags aboard, then presented her with a large basket containing all sorts of comestibles, as well as two bottles of wine. “Well, you’ve been a very busy man. Or someone at your concierge service has been busy,” she corrected, sticking her tongue out at him.

“The result is the same,” he declared. “The details are of no consequence. Now, let me take the helm and we’ll be off.” She swallowed thickly as he started the powerful engine, then got up and released most of the lines. “Can you hold on to this last line? You can drop it into the water when we’re clear.”

“I can stand on the dock and do that. I’m not entirely helpless.”

“Whatever you choose. I want you to be happy.”

That was a new direction in her sailing history, and she smiled, hoping that Giacomo was sensitive enough to realize she wasn’t a thrill-seeker. She stepped off the boat and held onto the bow line, letting it out slowly as he guided the boat from the slip. Gracefully, she stepped aboard, tossing the line onto the dock. “Brava!” he yelled, clapping loudly.

She bowed, then stepped carefully around winches, lines and stays on her way back to the helm. Standing behind Giacomo, she rested her hands on his shoulders, watching over his head as he guided the boat from the harbor.

The bay was a little rough and the wind was blowing briskly. He turned his head and kissed her hand. “Watch how easy,” he said. He pressed a button and used a lever to unfurl the mainsail, setting and trimming it without leaving his seat. “We could sail to Africa and you wouldn’t get a blister on your lovely hands.”

“This is nice. Very nice.”

“I like to sail the old-fashioned way, but this is much nicer when you merely want to enjoy the day. The less you work, the more you enjoy.”

Kissing his ear, she said, “I like the way you think.”

They were going fairly slowly, but as the boat thudded into gully after gully Catherine began to feel the all-too-familiar sensations of insipient seasickness. Not wanting to ruin Giacomo’s fun, she said, “I’m going below for a moment. I’ll be right back.” She made a mad dash for the head, where she lost her breakfast. She stayed below for as long as she could stand it, even though she knew her seasickness was always worse belowdecks. She wanted to make sure she wasn’t going to be sick again because Giacomo would surely know she was having trouble. When she was as steady as she thought she’d get, she rinsed her mouth and went back outside, smiling as sincerely as possible.

Giacomo was clearly more attuned to her than Jim had been, because he took one look at her and said, “You’re ill.”

“I’m fine. Really I am. I think I needed a little more breakfast. The espresso I had was a little too acidic.”

“Come stand by me,” he demanded. When she complied, he looked at her carefully. “Do you usually get seasick?”

“Not usually,” she hedged. “But it’s not infrequent.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you seemed so happy. I didn’t want to ruin your fun.”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean. I can cure your seasickness.”

She blinked. “You can?”

“Yes. My daughter will sometimes feel sick and I can always make her feel better. Come,” he said, indicating his lap.

Tilting her head, Catherine squeezed between him and the wheel. “Now what?”

“Cianna sits on my lap and steers. It helps every time.”

Catherine turned and gave him a suspicious look. “I think this is just a way to get me on your lap.”

Grinning lasciviously, he asked, “Is that so bad?”

“I suppose not.” With assistance, she sat astride his leg.

“Good. Now hold on to the wheel.” She did, noting that he kept his hand lightly on the wheel as well. “Now, look out at the sea and decide where you want to go and how you want to hit a wave. You’re in control.”

“How do I know?” she asked, her voice tight with fear.

“It’s easy. This boat is yours. You are the captain. It will do what you tell it. You can master the sea.”

“I can barely master the swimming pool!”

“Nonsense. The faster you go, the less you will feel the sea. I’m going to put up the Genoa, then we’ll be able to really move.”

She was too frightened to protest, so he pushed a few buttons and she watched the large foresail unfurl. He nudged her a little and she got to her feet. “Put both hands on the wheel.” She did—hesitantly. “Look at the sea. You’ll feel less if you cut across the waves. Don’t worry about where we go, just make the boat perform like you want her to.”

Catherine did as she was told, and after a few minutes she realized she was concentrating so hard that she no longer felt ill. She also noted that Giacomo was pressing firmly against the pressure points in her wrists. As the minutes ticked by, she started to feel more in control. A good fifteen minutes later, she felt one of Giacomo’s arms encircle her waist.

“You’re smiling.”

“I am?”

“Yes. And your color is good. No more green in your cheeks.”

“Mmm…that sounds attractive.”

“I’ve found that the key to many things is to do your best to have some control. If you can gain that, you can master it.”

“Put your arms around me,” Catherine said. When Giacomo did she leaned back against him, snuggling her head against his neck. “I’ve never felt so good aboard a boat. This is the first time I don’t feel like a bottle being washed out to sea, bobbing around without any control.”

“Then you’ll be the captain when we sail. A very easy solution.”

She took her eyes from the bay and turned to kiss his cheek. But those few seconds of inattention made her stomach roil again and she slipped off his lap and made for the head. Her hand was over her mouth, and she didn’t even try to disguise her plight. A few minutes later she was back, giving Giacomo a wry smile. “The captain is not allowed to kiss the assistant captain.”

“Come back,” he urged. She did, standing between him and the wheel. Being on her feet and steering helped again, and Giacomo went to get some crackers, which he fed to her in bite-sized pieces. When her stomach was calm again she drank some mineral water, then Giacomo guided her towards Capri, only taking over when they were within view of the harbor.

Attendants were on hand to jump aboard the boat and secure it. Giacomo started handing out Euros, and Catherine heard him tell a young man where to have their bags delivered. He led Catherine off the boat, then took her hand. They walked for a while, then entered a quiet café. “Now it’s time for some solid food,” he stated.

When they’d ordered, he took her hand again. “I wish you had told me that you didn’t enjoy sailing,” he said, gazing deeply into her eyes. “I only want to do things that we both like. This is our vacation.”

“But I want you to do things you like.”

“Ridiculous,” he said, scowling at her. “I can do what I like any time. This is our time. For both of us.”

She nodded, then said, “I would have said something, but I thought I might have conquered my seasickness. In the last few years I haven’t had any trouble. Just last summer Jamie and I went sailing in Rhode Island and I didn’t have a twinge of discomfort.”

“Why do you think you were ill today?”

“Just nerves,” she admitted shyly. “I want to please you, but I was afraid I’d get sick—so I did.”

“Oh, my Catherine, you always please me. From now on I want you to tell me what you like, what you don’t like, what you’re afraid of. We can avoid the things you don’t like and revel in the things you do.”

“You make a convincing argument,” she said, grinning when the waiter put a plate of fresh, crusty bread in front of her. “Nothing helps my stomach as much as bread. I’ll be fine in no time.”

They walked around town for over an hour after lunch. The sun was warm and beat down on them constantly. Stopping to sit on a bench in the shade, Catherine rested her head on Giacomo’s shoulder and sighed. “I need a nap,” she said.

“Ahh…something we both like.” He kissed the crown of her head, stood and held out a hand to help her up. “Let’s go home.”

They grabbed a cab and silently watched the little car climb a series of steep hills, finally stopping near the end of a narrow street. Giacomo paid the driver, then led Catherine to a large iron gate snuggled into an overgrown hedge. Giacomo took out a set of keys and dangled them tauntingly in front of a grinning Catherine. “I have a little treat for you,” he sang.

“Show me!”

He jostled the key into the old lock and finally got it to turn. Then he swung the gate open, revealing a lovely white stucco villa surrounded by a profusion of flowers and green plants. “Ahh…the fragrance is fantastic,” Giacomo said, breathing in heavily.

“It’s divine! Oh, Giacomo, the house is wonderful.” She took a breath and her smile grew wider. “Such a lovely scent.”

“The sea, the flowers, the sun—even the earth smells fantastic on Capri.”

She started to walk backwards up the pathway, tugging at Giacomo’s hand. “I can’t wait. Open the door!”

He dashed ahead, laughing when she ran after him, leaning over his shoulder while he tried to open the cranky lock. The lock finally clicked and he threw the door open, revealing a large, two-story entryway tiled in a lovely blue and yellow pattern.

Catherine entered holding Giacomo’s hand. “It’s wonderful,” she purred, looking around the cool, casually furnished living room. All of the furniture was white, and the accents were clear blue and bright yellow, perfectly matching the tile floor. She started through the house with Giacomo’s arm tucked around her waist. “A pool!” she exclaimed when they walked through the dining room and looked out the four large doors that led to the patio and gardens.

“I hate to swim with a crowd,” he said, sniffing snootily.

“This is so wonderful,” she repeated as they went from room to room. They finally climbed the stairs to their room, which was spacious, bright and airy. The doors were open, letting a warm, moist breeze into the room. The sun was shining onto the center of the bed, and Catherine kicked off her shoes. “I love to sleep with the sun on me.”

“If you love it, I love it.” Giacomo began to undress her, taking his time while he interspersed his actions with soft, teasing kisses on the skin he revealed. When he was finished he let her perform the same task for him, smiling at her intensity as she worked on the small buttons of his linen shirt.

He pulled the covers from the bed, exposing soft white sheets. Catherine practically dove for the bed, moaning her appreciation of the luxurious sensations that engulfed her bare skin. Giacomo slid in behind her and began to delicately kiss her neck and shoulders, but Catherine’s response was a series of sleepy sighs and a yawn. So he wrapped his arm around her waist, pressed his head to her back, and held her until sleep came to them both.

Late that afternoon they sat by the pool, light cotton robes covering them. Giacomo had made cold drinks, mixing a pinot grigio with sparkling water. They sipped their drinks, wordlessly watching the light breeze skim over the cool, blue water. Perfectly comfortable with the silence, they held hands and enjoyed the shade. Catherine eventually got up and sat on the edge of Giacomo’s chaise. Without a word she started to kiss him, feeling his smile against her lips. In just a few minutes they were locked in an embrace, enjoying the afternoon in a more active, but equally relaxing pastime.

PART TWELVE

JAMIE WOKE ON Sunday morning, immediately noting Ryan’s absence. “Honey?” she called, her voice a little raspy.

“I’m in my room. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“No need. I just wanted to know where you were.” She grasped Ryan’s pillow and hugged it, falling asleep in moments.

About ten minutes later, Ryan walked into the bedroom, stopping abruptly when she saw that Jamie was asleep. Surprisingly, Jamie woke immediately, blinking her eyes. “What’s up?” she asked.

“I’ve been deciding what I want to do today.”

Jamie looked over her shoulder and noted that the day was gray and overcast. “Work on your tan?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ve made a list.” She sat down and started to read, “We could race go-karts, go sailing, rock climbing, mountain biking—”

Jamie held up her splinted arm while yawning softly. “You can do those things, babe. I’ll watch and call 911 if you need it.”

“Damn! I tried to include things you like to do. I keep forgetting you can’t use your arm.”

“What would you do if I wasn’t going to join you?”

“Go surfing,” she said without hesitation.

“Really? You haven’t done that all year.”

“I know. I miss it. And today’s a good day.”

“Really? It looks pretty drab out.”

“It is, but the surf report is pretty good.” She fidgeted, obviously ready to get going. “Well, it’s not pretty good, but it sounds decent.”

“What did it say? Not that I speak surfish.”

Ryan smiled at her coinage of a new word. “In English, it said that the waves are high and it’s not crowded.”

“That sounds decent. Let’s do it.” Jamie started to get out of bed.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“But you don’t surf.”

“I know, but I can have fun. Is there some place I can buy a wetsuit?”

“Uhm, sure. There’s a good surf shop close to Ocean Beach.”

“Okay. Let’s get breakfast and get going.”

“Let’s just get going. There’s a good place to eat right by the beach.” Ryan started to go towards her room, but stopped abruptly. “Hey, why don’t we pick up Caitlin?”

Jamie appeared to ponder the idea, then nodded. “Okay. If Annie says it’s all right, we’ll get her.”

“Annie always says yes,” Ryan said, chuckling. “What mother doesn’t want a morning off?”

“Good point. Let’s go, wahine.”

It was around fifty degrees, and the wind had picked up a few knots from the time they’d left Berkeley. Ryan was contemplative during breakfast, watching the waves and the few surfers in the ocean. Jamie didn’t speak much, finding it more entertaining to watch Ryan’s stormy blue eyes scan the sea.

“How’s it look?” Jamie finally asked, noting that her and Ryan’s plates were both clean.

“Not good.” Ryan wiped her mouth and tossed her napkin onto her plate. “I recognize one graybeard, and he’s out here every day—no matter how bad conditions are. I don’t know who posted the surf report, but if these are good conditions…”

“The waves are high like the guy said,” Jamie observed. “Are they too high?”

“No such thing,” Ryan said, smiling. “The height is fine, but the shape isn’t good. And there’s a long gap between sets. I haven’t seen anyone catch a good wave. They look like they’re waiting for things to calm down a little.”

“Maybe it will. But now I don’t feel guilty for wanting to go to the surf shop.”

Ryan smiled at her. “Let’s go. I don’t know what you plan on doing, but I guess there’s only one way for me to find out.”

“You’re not the only one with secrets, Buffy.”

They were standing in front of the shop when it opened. Ryan didn’t recognize the man who opened the door, and he looked like he wasn’t at all happy to have customers waiting. But Jamie was in a very good mood, and she started to work her charms as soon as they walked inside.

“Hi,” she said brightly, giving the young man a gleaming smile. “I wanna buy a couple of things and get out of here quickly so you can enjoy your coffee.”

He looked longingly at the large cup on the counter. “’Sokay. Whaddya need?”

“Just point me towards the wetsuits for a woman my size. My buddy here will help me try them on.”

“Cool.” He walked them over to the large selection and said, “If you want a girl’s suit, you’re probably an eight or a ten. You’re an extra-small in a guy’s suit.”

“I want a girl’s. Better colors,” she said, looking at the pink, blue, and lavender trim on the women’s suits.

“Go for it,” he said, finally smiling. He walked back to the counter and started to drink his coffee.

“Girls?” Jamie asked when he was out of earshot. “Not too demeaning.”

“Surfer mentality. Get used to it.”

“I’m not a surfer; I just want the clothes.”

Ryan smiled. “Whatever gets your engine running. Now let’s figure out how to get one of these things over your splint.”

“No need. I brought an elastic bandage. The doctor told me I could take the splint off as long as I was careful with it.”

“So, you’re gonna put on a wetsuit and just watch me surf?”

“No. That’d be silly. Now help me try on that cute one with the pink top.”

It didn’t take nearly as long as Ryan feared it would to make Jamie completely happy with her purchase. Then she walked over to a display near the back of the store and sorted through a bunch of skimboards.

“Are you gonna buy one of these?” Ryan asked.

“Uh-huh. I like ’em.”

“They are cute,” Ryan agreed, pausing a few seconds before tentatively asking, “Do you know how to ride one?”

Jamie gave her an outraged glare. “Even girls can ride a skimboard.”

“No offense. You just gave me the impression you were more interested in the gear than the water.”

“Nope. Now pick up that cute one that looks like it’s just varnished wood.”

Ryan did, nodding in agreement. “Classy.”

“Thank you. Now, let’s get something for the baby.”

“Like a toy?”

“No, silly. Like a wetsuit. It’s cold out there. Even though she’s a thrill-seeker like her cousin, she’s still a baby.”

Jamie was quick with her size-calculation and they got to Tommy and Annie’s house with their new purchases. Caitlin was delighted to see her playmates, but a little less delighted at being encased in neoprene. She was crying lustily while Annie wrestled with her to get her little feet in the neoprene booties, even though Ryan was making faces, jumping up and down and singing. Jamie watched, drolly saying, “Being a parent might finally tire you out, Tiger.”

Ryan smiled, still performing. “No way. I can keep up with any baby in the world.”

“We’ll see.” Caitlin’s face was red and blotchy and she was hiccupping when Annie finally succeeded in getting her dressed. Jamie reached in and picked up the baby, smiling at Annie when she said, “I like to be the good guy. Just stand back and let you two be the evil ones who torture this poor child.” She kissed all over Caitlin’s little face, giggling when Cait kissed her back.

“Smart girl,” Annie said. “Wish I could get away with it. Of course, you two will be the ogres when you try to get her out of the ocean. When we go I can always rely on the bone-numbing cold to help persuade her.”

Jamie made a face. “Oh-oh. We might have made a miscalculation.”

“Yeah, I think you did,” Annie said. “But I certainly wasn’t gonna tell you that before you got here. Tommy’s at work and I’m gonna go to Martha and Brothers, read the paper and drink coffee—alone.” She sighed dramatically. “Alone. Who knew what a beautiful word that would become?”

“I think you might be alone for quite a while,” Ryan said. “Neither Caitlin or I have the sense to come out of the water.”

The threesome drove back to Ocean Beach and found parking only a few blocks away. Ryan carried her board, wetsuit, and Jamie’s skimboard. She said, “I should have put my suit on at Annie’s. I missed my chance.”

“I like it when you get dressed in public. I’ll hold a towel for you.”

“I don’t mind the being in public part, but it’s about fifty degrees.”

“Don’t forget the fog. It’s so heavy now it feels like rain.”

“A lovely day for the beach,” Ryan said. “My heart’s pumping already.”

It took a while for Ryan to get into her suit, especially since Jamie kept dropping the towel just enough to make Ryan think she was going to let everyone on Great Highway see her in the flesh. Cait pulled on the towel as well, but she didn’t seem to know why it was fun to do so. But Ryan’s squeals were enough to keep her well entertained.

Once dressed, Ryan carried her board and Jamie’s little skimboard to the beach, and when they hit the wet part of the beach, they both started taking quick steps. “Cold,” Jamie said. “Feels like needles.”

“Yeah. I know it’s cold, but it almost feels like it’s burning.”

“Should be fun!” Jamie squealed, partly for effect. She was carrying Caitlin, and the baby was struggling to get out of her hold. “I guess I can put her down, huh?”

“Sure. The cold might knock some sense into her.” She smiled, watching the child’s eyes grow wide, then laughed when Caitlin ran for dry land. But the determined child wasn’t going to let the cold water stop her from playing. She toddled in and out of the surf until she acclimated to it, then kept going deeper and deeper until she was in thigh-deep water.

“That’s my girl,” Ryan said proudly. “She’s not an O’Flaherty but she’s as dumb as any of us.”

They stood at the edge of the water watching Caitlin splash happily. “One of us has to be within grabbing range of her.” She looked at Jamie and said, “Honestly, baby, we can’t take our eyes off her out here.”

Jamie looked a little puzzled. “Okay. I know the ocean is dangerous.”

“Very dangerous today. But not so much at the shore. Honestly, the surf looks awful. At least what I can see looks awful.”

“It’s really high.”

“Yep. And I can’t see if there’s anyone in the line-up.”

“I hate to tell you what to do, but it seems a little dangerous to me to surf when you can’t see land.”

“Yeah,” Ryan nodded. “I hate it when you tell me what to do, too.” She leaned over and gave Jamie a quick kiss. “Just kidding. I take this seriously.”

“I love the sign we passed saying, ‘People Swimming and Wading Have Drowned Here.’ How many languages was that in?” Jamie asked.

“I don’t know, but I didn’t recognize the characters in a couple of them. The last one was either Greek or Russian.”

“How could you drown while you’re wading?”

“Easy. This is a very dangerous place. You’ve got millions of gallons of water and sand pouring out of the Bay, and waves and tides and wind coming in from the ocean. It’s almost always wild out here.”

“But you wade right next to the shore.”

“Right. But if there’s a riptide it can pull you off your feet and dump you into the lateral current. That baby is fierce when it’s close to ebb tide.”

“Is it ebb tide now?” Jamie asked, her voice on the verge of breaking. She reached down and grasped the long tab at the end of the zipper on Caitlin’s wetsuit.

“No, no. It’s just past flood tide. It’s safe for her to play.”

“I hate to be so realistic, but flood tide doesn’t sound much better than ebb. In fact, it sounds a lot worse.”

Ryan laughed. “Yeah, I guess it does. But it is safer. The flood tide is much less fierce.”

“How long have you been coming here?”

“I think I was about ten when I started. Da doesn’t know that, by the way. He thinks I waited until I was in high school.”

“Got it,” Jamie agreed, bumping Ryan with her shoulder. “So, are you gonna try?”

“Oh, sure. I’ve gotta try.” Ryan grinned at her. “It might be fantastic through the fog.”

“Right. Very likely. How am I supposed to watch you?”

“Simple. There’s not much you can do to help, so why watch? Besides, you’ve got your hands…I mean hand, filled with Caitlin.”

Jamie took her partner’s hand and squeezed it. “We haven’t even been together for a year, baby. Don’t make me a widow so soon.”

“I won’t. Promise.” She bent and kissed Jamie then splashed water at Caitlin. “I just need to check it out. I’ll probably be back in no time.”

“Just be careful. I can’t make your heart race if I don’t get you back home.”

“You’ll get me back home. Don’t worry.” She kissed Jamie tenderly and walked into the water, squealing like a little girl when the water covered her feet.

Jamie watched her paddle out, grasping more of Caitlin in response to her increasing fear. Caitlin didn’t like seeing Ryan leave, but she didn’t throw a fit, being fairly happy just to be in freezing water. She did stop her play and plaintively cry, “My-my,” her current attempt to enunciate her cousin’s difficult name.

It was clear Ryan was using every bit of her strength to try to get out into clear water. A big wave came at her when she was still fairly close to shore, and Jamie watched her partner move her hands up to the top of the board and push it underwater. She popped out the back of the wave a second later, shaking her head furiously to get her hair out of her face. She was still lying on the board, paddling hard, but she wasn’t making much progress. The pull was obviously very strong. For every two feet she gained, she lost another two to the lateral current. Jamie grasped the tab on Caitlin’s suit and tugged her down beach, following Ryan. She hoped her partner would get into calm water or give up before they passed under the Golden Gate Bridge, knowing that she and Caitlin could never keep up with the current.

Ryan was tiring, that was clear. She let the current carry her for a few moments, and Jamie reached down and grabbed Caitlin, trotting while carrying her under her arm, ignoring her outraged squawk. “Nooooo!” she cried, but Jamie kept running as quickly as she could.

Finally, with a burst of strength, Ryan broke through the current, diving under another big wave to emerge on the other side. Jamie let out a sigh of relief and lowered Caitlin to the water again. The baby picked up right where she’d left off, splashing noisily and singing a song that Jamie was sure would be lodged in her own brain for days.

Luckily, the fog was lighter than it looked, and Jamie could see Ryan fairly well. There was one other surfer in the line-up, and he paddled over to Ryan and seemed to be talking to her. Ryan sat astride her board and neither she nor the other surfer seemed in a hurry to ride one of the big waves. The waves looked well formed to Jamie’s moderately experienced eye, but they were breaking very close to shore.

She finally grew tired of watching Ryan just sit in the water, so she went back to her skimboard and said, “Cait, check this out.” She grasped the board, using her splinted arm efficiently to hold the light board. Cait watched for a few moments, then took off after her when Jamie started to run. “Me! Me!” she cried.

Jamie turned and called out, “Watch!” then dropped the board and jumped onto it. She hadn’t been on a board in two years, but she’d spent so many hours on one while growing up that it didn’t seem as alien as she’d feared. The limited mobility of her left arm kept her from being very aggressive, but she could take off, get up a head of steam, toss the board in front of her and jump on it while skimming along the retreating surf.

She practically had to wrestle Caitlin for control of the board, but it kept the baby away from the surf and occupied. “Me go!” she kept saying. “Me go!”

“I think your mommy and daddy better have another baby at some point, Caitlin or you’re never gonna learn how to share.” She chuckled. “You don’t wanna be like me.”

Caitlin’s begging finally had its intended effect, and Jamie tried to show the child how to jump on a moving board. It was a complete waste of time, but they both had fun playing in the water which didn’t seem so cold now.

She looked up and saw Ryan splashing through the surf, her long hair flying about wildly in the gusting wind. “It’s tough out there!” Ryan hollered.

“I saw you fighting to get out past the waves. You looked like you were going to wind up in Japan.”

“It wasn’t a riptide, but it was close! My arms noodled on me.”

“That was a sweet little nosedive you did to get past the waves near the shore.”

“I had to duckdive three times in the same place.” She tilted her head to the side and hit herself a few times. “I got water in my ear on one of them. The wave caught me a little bit.”

“Did the other guy out there catch any waves?”

“Nah. This is just a day to tell people you were out. There’s nothin’ goin’ on. The guy who posted the report probably figured no one else was dumb enough to go out in the fog and he could tell his friends he was riding big ones.”

Jamie gave her a one-armed hug. “Little did he know you’re dumb enough for two women.”

“At least.” Ryan kissed her partner’s head. “Tell me about this skimboard thing. I had no idea you had experience.”

“Yeah. Lots.” She started to run, but Ryan’s yell made her stop in her tracks. Both Jamie and Caitlin stared at Ryan, but only Jamie responded. “What?”

“You’re gonna jump on that with a broken elbow?”

“Yeah.” Jamie smiled at her. “I think you’re in my position for a change. How does it feel?”

“Awful!” Ryan walked over to her and gently stroked her injured arm. “Are you sure you wanna do this? You could easily fall. I mean easily.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine. I won’t go fast. I just wanna get the feel again.”

“What am I gonna tell your mom if she comes home to see a cast on your other arm?”

Giggling, Jamie started to trot, managing to say, “If you think of something, let me know. I’m sure I’ll be able to use it with your father at some point.” She tossed the board in front of herself, jumping on for a short, but smooth ride. She fought to keep her balance when the board stopped, but she was unscathed. “Wanna use it? I’ve been trying to teach Caitlin, but she seems a little slow.”

Ryan laughed. “No, you go ahead. I wanna be able to drive you to the ER. And I won’t tell Caitlin you think she’s slow. I know most 19-month-old kids can hold a board as tall as they are, run with it and jump on while it’s moving, but she doesn’t need to know that.”

Jamie stuck her tongue out. “I’m being very careful. When my arm heals, I can show you some tricks. I’m not bad, if I must say so myself.”

“You’re not bad at anything. But you’ve never surfed. How come?” She grabbed Caitlin and held her over her head, distracting her while Jamie ran and jumped on a few more times.

Jamie handed Ryan her board, the put her arm around her waist, leading her back up the beach to where they’d started. “My mom. She knew my father wouldn’t watch me properly when I was a kid, and she worried I’d drown. I really, really wanted to go with him, though, so he bought me my first skimboard and showed me how to use it. There were always a bunch of kids on the beach, and I learned some tricks from them.” She smiled at the memory. “Those times I behaved more like a kid than any other time in my life.”

“Sounds like fun. I’ve only been on one once or twice. I’ve never owned one.”

“No!” Jamie looked excessively shocked. “I have a piece of sports equipment that you don’t have?”

“I bet you have horse stuff, too, and I’ve never been riding.”

“We’ll have to remedy that. I bet you’d love riding.”

“I’m not so sure. My grandfather told me never to get on the back of an animal dumber than I was. He hates horses.”

“Some horses are very bright,” Jamie teased.

“Show me a trick, smarty pants.”

“Okay. Pay attention.” Ryan waited patiently, with Caitlin sitting on her shoulders, using her head as a drum. “I think you can easily do a three-sixty.”

“Sounds fun. What do I do?”

“You know how to jump on, right?”

“Yeah. Run, toss it, jump on.”

Jamie grinned at her. “You make it sound easier than it is.”

“Well,” Ryan stuck out her chest, “I am a three-sport athlete at a major university…”

Jamie started speaking louder than her partner, trying to drown her out. “Once you jump on, you squat down and drag a hand. If you’re gliding, the drag will turn you around.”

“Simple physics,” Ryan said. “Did I mention I’m also well versed in the sciences?”

“Get going or I’m heading home. It’s freezing out here!”

Ryan took the board, put the baby on Jamie’s shoulders, and started to lope down the beach, tossing the board well in front of her and jumping on with both feet at the same time. She squatted down and stuck her hand deep in the sand, stopping the board immediately. But Ryan didn’t stop. She tumbled head-over heels, landing flat on her back with the surf hitting her hard and tumbling her over again and again like a piece of driftwood.

Jamie tried to control her laughter, but she was still giggling when she and Caitlin reached the scene of the accident. Ryan’s expression was priceless. She looked truly astounded that she’d wiped out, and more than a little angry at the ocean for treating her so rudely. “Are you all right?” Jamie asked. She put a hand out and Ryan took it, getting to her feet just as another wave came in.

“Damned ocean,” Ryan muttered. “It doesn’t know who I am.”

“You wiped out pretty hard. Are you really all right?”

“Oh, sure. I’m never gonna get the sand out of my hair, but I’m fine.”

“Wanna go home?”

“Before I learn that trick? You’ve gotta be kidding!”

Jamie sighed, hoping that Ryan figured the trick out before they expired from hypothermia.

It only took another ten tries for Ryan to complete a 360 turn. She was just about to try a 720 when Jamie called a halt to the game. “We can’t do this all day, honey. The baby’s getting pissed.”

“Oh, all right.” Ryan walked over and took the child, held her close while she tried to run with the board, failing miserably. “This won’t work,” she said, looking perplexed.

“Give me the board,” Jamie said. She and Ryan ran at the same speed, then Jamie tossed the board, shaking her head as Ryan and the baby jumped on, going just a couple of feet before Ryan jumped off. “You be careful with that baby, Ryan O’Flaherty. Her bones are flexible, but not flexible enough to have you fall on top of her.”

“I’m going slow,” Ryan said. “If I fall, I’ll make sure I land on my back.”

Jamie had no idea how a person would do that, but if Ryan said she could do so, she believed her.

Caitlin was having a blast, even though she and Ryan were taking some of the shortest rides ever recorded on a skimboard. Then Ryan sat the baby down on the moving board and Cait was in heaven. She liked nothing better than doing something by herself. And the fact that Jamie was running and tossing the board and Ryan was running and placing Caitlin on the board did nothing to dissuade the child from believing she was very accomplished.

They kept the game up until Jamie was exhausted. “I’m out,” she said, panting. “I’m out of shape, and I’m out of breath.”

“No problem,” Ryan said. “We’ll go play in the water.” She grabbed Caitlin and ran back into the ocean, both of them screaming from the shock. Jamie just shook her head, mumbling, “Maybe she’ll forget that I said I wanted children.”

An hour later, on the way to the car, Jamie said, “The coldest winter I ever experienced…”

And Ryan finished, “Was the summer I spent in San Francisco.” She laughed. “Mark Twain wasn’t the first or the last to say that.”

At dinner, Giacomo asked to speak to the chef, and when the man walked out of the kitchen, he smiled broadly and embraced him. He introduced Catherine, then asked him to prepare a meal for them. After ascertaining that neither of them were allergic to any food, he disappeared into the kitchen to work his magic. The waiter arrived with a bottle of wine and poured for them. Catherine picked up her glass and they toasted their vacation, but as she took her first sip, she paused and set the glass down.

“It’s not good?” Giacomo asked.

“No, no, it’s delicious. I…uhm…think I’ve had enough.”

“What? You didn’t wet your tongue.”

“I had some wine earlier today.” She stopped and considered, then decided to tell him the truth. “A few months ago I decided that I’d been drinking too much. Since then, I’ve limited myself to one drink a day. It’s…easier that way. I don’t have to think about it.”

He looked very concerned, taking her hand and stroking it. “Tell me more.”

“There isn’t a lot to tell. I was unhappy. You know how I was when we first met.”

“Yes. Very unhappy. I recall how sad you seemed and I was determined to put a smile on your lovely face.” He grinned rakishly. “I love to see you smile. Especially when it’s at me.”

“When I’m sad or lonely or bored, I tend to drink too much. It’s not good for me and I decided I didn’t want to live that way anymore.”

“And you can do this? You can drink a little and stop?”

“Yes.” She nodded, looking proud of herself. “It was hard at first, but now I only want more when I’m upset or feeling down.”

“Do you feel down now?”

“No, of course not. I’m very happy to be here with you.”

“This is …” He frowned, seeming to search for words. “Maybe a difference between our cultures. Here we enjoy wine as much as we enjoy food…as much as we enjoy anything of beauty. Of course we have people who cannot control their appetites, but it seems to me that we have fewer people who go to the…what is it? Anonymous?”

“Alcoholics Anonymous.”

“Yes. And there are other groups, yes?”

“Yes.” Catherine chuckled. “We have a group for anything you do too much. Alcohol, food, sex, drugs, shopping—just about anything you can enjoy.”

“I don’t understand that,” he said, his expression showing just how puzzled he was. “Everything is best when it’s special. I’ll recall those simple drinks we had this afternoon for a long time. I don’t think we had a quarter bottle of wine, and it was watered down, but it tasted so fresh, so fruity. And to then taste it on your lips.” He rolled his eyes, then patted his chest over his heart. “I’ll remember.”

“I’ll remember too,” Catherine said, feeling as though she might cry.

“How does it hurt you to have wine with dinner?” Giacomo asked. “Do you think you’d want more and more?”

“No,” she said, hesitating. “Not really.”

“So…it’s just because of your rule?”

“Yes. I promised myself I wouldn’t drink too much, and limiting myself to one drink seemed the easiest way to do that.”

“But you could change the rule if you wanted to.”

“Yes, I suppose I could.”

“Perhaps the rule should be not to drink alone,” he suggested. “Is it good to have a drink just because you’re allowed to?”

“No…I suppose it’s not.”

“Do you have this one drink every day, even if you don’t particularly want it?”

She gave him a long look, one that seemed to question his sincerity. “I’ve never….” She stopped and took a breath. “Yes. I have one every day.”

“Is that a good idea? It sounds like a medicine you need. Why not have some wine…not too much…when you have a wonderful meal? Enjoy the wine as it complements your food, not to lift a dark mood or to feel less. Enjoy wine to feel more. That’s why it exists, Catherine. To feel more, not less.”

“I’m not sure I know how to stop if I don’t have a limit beforehand,” she said, a frown wrinkling her brow.

“The bottle is only so big.” Giacomo held it up, critically looking at the ruby liquid. “Two glasses…over the course of a long dinner. Would two glasses make you feel drunk?”

“No,” she said, laughing bitterly. “That’s one of my problems. I rarely felt drunk, even though I was.”

He raised a hand and made a flitting gesture. “The decision is, of course, yours. But I would always urge my children to drink for pleasure, not to alter a mood and not to fulfill a quota. That seems unwise to me.” He grinned. “But I have an Italian perspective. I don’t trust another person to tell me I do anything too often or not often enough.”

“The wine is delightful,” she said, picking up the glass and taking another tiny sip. “I can’t wait to see what we’ll be eating.”

“I guarantee you will love it,” he said. “And that the wine will be the perfect complement.” He took a small sip. “I believe wine should be like a spice, a seasoning. Something used in moderation to enhance a meal or an experience. It should never be the meal itself. That, to me, is dangerous.”

“I see your point,” Catherine said. “I’ll give it some thought. But for tonight, let’s enjoy our meal. Here’s to our first course—the wine,” she said, clinking her glass with Giacomo’s.

The girls decided they were too cold to drive back to Berkeley, so, after delivering a wet, tired baby back to her mother, they headed for Noe and a hot shower. When they walked in, still wearing their wetsuits and looking like a rogue wave had just washed them ashore, Martin saw them and cried, “For the love of Mike! Where have you two been?”

Ryan took a long, slow look at their wetsuits, then tilted her chin and playfully asked, “Is that really your best question?”

“You girls were in the ocean today?” Maeve jumped up and came to stand in front of them. “You’re both shivering. Go warm up and I’ll make you some nice oatmeal for breakfast.”

“We already had—”

Ryan jumped in. “We’d love oatmeal. It’s been hours since we’ve eaten.”

Maeve patted Ryan’s side and winked at Jamie. “Siobhan’s view of time doesn’t always follow the clock. Now scoot, you two.”

Duffy happily followed them downstairs, sniffing and snorting at the fantastic scents that clung to their wetsuits. Ryan generously offered to peel Jamie out of her suit, but when Jamie tried to return the favor, Ryan said, “No, I’ll do it in the shower.”

“Why? Did you get sand in it?”

“No.” Ryan walked into the bathroom and got into the tub. She started to ease the suit off. “I peed in it. I’m sure there isn’t any left in liquid form, but I thought I’d better be safe.”

Jamie looked like she’d just heard a very bad joke. “You peed in your suit?”

“Sure.” Ryan yanked the suit off her leg and started to rinse it out. “Everybody does when it’s cold.”

“Au contraire!”

“There’s two kinds of people: those who pee in their wetsuits, and those who lie about it.”

“There might only be two kinds of people, but that would be: people who voluntarily soil their own clothing, and normal people. I’m normal.”

Ryan looked a little suspicious. “You really mean to tell me that you’d take your wetsuit off to pee in the ocean?”

“No.” Jamie handed her partner a plastic hanger for her suit. “I’d get out of the ocean, find an acceptable facility, take off my suit, then pee. Like a normal person.”

“Damn, it’s time consuming to be normal.” Ryan grinned at her. “Do I have to clean the tub for you to get in?”

“Yep.” Jamie handed her a sponge and some cleanser. “And don’t miss an inch.”

Conor and Kevin had finished breakfast and were in Conor’s room watching TV when the girls emerged from their room. “Whatcha watching?” Ryan asked.

“NBA,” Kevin said. “You guys surfing today?”

“Tried to,” Ryan said. “No luck. But Jamie showed me how talented she is on a skimboard.”

Conor sat up. “With a broken arm? You let her do that?”

“I can’t stop her, Con. She’s got a wild streak a mile wide.”

Jamie punched her partner playfully. “Look who’s talking. And I just did a few rides, Conor. Nothing risky.”

“I’ve never been able to get the hang of a skimboard.”

“I think you’re a little large for one,” Jamie said. “Being close to the ground is an asset.”

“Breakfast is ready,” Maeve called.

Ryan put her arm around Jamie and said, “Don’t you love the fact that Da and Aunt Maeve act like they still live here? We’d never get breakfast from Conor or Kevin.”

“That’s the God’s honest truth,” Kevin agreed. “But we’ve always got beer in the fridge.”

After breakfast, Martin and Maeve had a final cup of coffee while Jamie and Ryan cleaned the kitchen. When Martin went in to watch a little basketball, Maeve went over to the church to see if anyone needed help doing anything.

Ryan watched her aunt leave, commenting, “She’s such a good woman. That parish would have to hire six people to replace her. They ought to make her a bishop, just for grins.”

Neither woman was interested in the basketball game, so they went to Ryan’s room to decide what to do next.

Ryan sat down on the love seat and Jamie sat on her lap. “Guess what I’d like to do,” Jamie directed.

Gazing at her curiously, Ryan seemed to think for a minute. “Given how you’ve been acting lately, I think you’d like to go home and make love.”

Jamie smiled at her lovingly. “That’s on my list. With a big, red star,” she said, “but right now I’d like to go to church.”

Ryan cocked her head questioningly. “Really? That surprises me. We haven’t been in so long, I’ve almost forgotten that we used to go regularly.”

“It has been a long time,” Jamie admitted. “But I really miss hearing my grandfather preach. I rarely missed Sunday services before I met you.” She leaned over and kissed Ryan. “Heathen.”

“Heathen?”

“Just kidding. You’re not a heathen, but our schedules have made both of us lapsed churchgoers. I make up for it a little, but only a little.”

“How do you make up for it?”

“When I’m on a road trip I always take my Bible and read some scripture on Sunday. It makes me feel connected.”

Ryan looked a little stunned. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah. I love to read scripture, particularly the Psalms and the parables. I had a beautiful book when I was a little girl that illustrated some of the parables. Elizabeth used to read them to me for bedtime stories.”

“Boy, I thought Catholics were weird.” Ryan giggled when Jamie tickled her.

“No, Episcopalians are weird too, just in different ways. So, will you go with me? We can make the last service if we rush.”

“Sure. I’m always happy to see your grandfather. And it does my soul good to see women priests.”

After the service, Jamie convinced her grandfather to go to lunch with them. Ryan was happy to go; lunch was one of her favorite meals. Jamie felt as if they were eating their third meal of the day, but Ryan thought things were just getting started.

While they were waiting for their meals to be delivered, Reverend Evans asked, “Are you girls just about ready to start your marriage preparation class?”

Ryan playfully dropped her head to the table and lightly pounded the surface with her fists. “Not another test!”

“Yes, it is a little like a test, but the good news is that you can’t fail. As a matter of fact, it’s not even scored.”

“I wish you could talk Cal into adopting that practice,” Ryan said.

“Have finals got you down?”

Jamie reached over and patted Ryan on the cheek. “Don’t let her fool you, Poppa. She has one test and she’s been studying for it practically nonstop for months. I’d be amazed if she didn’t ace it.”

“But it’s in another language,” Ryan said, looking pathetic.

“All of my tests are in another language,” Jamie said. “I sure as hell don’t speak business.”

“Well, the marriage class is definitely in your language. Especially yours, Ryan. It’s all about feelings.”

Jamie moaned. “You know that’s not my favorite language Poppa. But I’ll give it a good try.”

Reverend Evans smiled at his granddaughter. “I think you might like this class. Even though a lot of couples aren’t crazy about it while they’re taking it, almost all of them tell me later that they were happy they went through it.” He chuckled, grinning at both women. “Especially the ones who decide not to get married because of the class.”

“Yikes,” Ryan cried. “Some couples break up because of this?”

“Yes,” Reverend Evans said. “I think most of them knew they were on shaky ground, and taking the class allowed them to process why things weren’t going to work. I don’t think you two have anything to worry about, though.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Jamie said. “I’ve been hell on wheels lately. Ryan might welcome an excuse to get rid of me.”

“If I wanted to break up with you, I would tell you, Jamie,” Ryan said. “You wouldn’t be surprised. If something like that ever happened, it would be after months, if not years of hard work, trying to fix things. I’ve made a lot of promises to you, and one that you can take to the bank is that I’ll always tell you when and if things aren’t working for me.” She reached across the table, picked up Jamie’s hand, and kissed it tenderly. “Things are working very, very well for me.”

Jamie looked a little embarrassed to have Ryan expressing herself so openly in public. “Oh, I’ll wear you down  eventually.”

Reverend Evans said, “I think I’m going to bet on Ryan in this race. All couples have problems. I’ve never met a couple who didn’t have intractable issues that they couldn’t fix. The secret to a successful marriage is not letting those problems obscure the love you have for each other.”

“You’d have to be hiding some remarkably large faults for me to have my love obscured in any way,” Ryan said. “I’m in until the end.”

“Me too,” Jamie agreed. “I’m just afraid that after I drive you mad, you’re going to wish the end would come soon.”

After lunch, they went back to Berkeley. They were both a little lethargic, their early rising and an active morning tiring them out. Ryan sat down on the sofa and gazed at her partner while Jamie organized the papers littering the table. She loved that Jamie kept a nice selection of dresses at the O’Flaherty house so that she could look fantastic with no planning at all. And watching her in her snug-fitting dress was making her think of the next item on their agenda. “I need a little caffeine if I’m going to stay awake.”

“We can take a nap, honey.”

“No. I’d like to stay up. After we play a little bit, I’m sure we’ll take a nap whether we want one or not.” She chuckled lethargically.

“Boy, you are tired. What would you like, hmm? A soda, iced tea?”

“Do we have any chocolate ice cream? And maybe some hot fudge? No, no. Vanilla ice cream and hot fudge. But make sure to use a lot of hot fudge—for the caffeine.” She smiled angelically.

“I’m trying to lose weight and you want a huge hot fudge sundae after eating three meals.” She glanced at her watch. “Before two o’clock.”

Ryan shooed her with her hands. “Hurry, or it’ll be time for another meal.”

With a happy grin on her face, Ryan licked the inside of her empty bowl. “How would you like it if I put some hot fudge on you?” she asked, looking at Jamie speculatively.

“You don’t have any left. Besides, it’d probably go right to my belly.”

“Ha, ha. Assuming it would stay on the surface of your skin, would you like that?”

“During sex? Or just as a vehicle to feed your voracious appetite?”

“Yes.” Ryan smiled. “Well, not just as a vehicle, but in addition to being a vehicle.”

Pursing her lips, Jamie shook her head. “Not my thing. I don’t mind if you want to do it; it just doesn’t sound appealing to me. Too sticky. Too messy. I’d have to wash the sheets, since I wouldn’t want Maria Los to see them. It seems like a lot of work just to have you lick me, which you seem perfectly willing to do with very little enticement.”

“This is true.” Ryan put down her bowl and put her arm around Jamie’s shoulders, pulling her close. “And you sure don’t need any flavor enhancement.”

“Do you like to do that? Eat food off people?”

Quickly self-censoring to make sure she didn’t reveal too many specific details of life before Jamie, Ryan said, “It can be fun. But it’s not really a culinary experience. To be honest, skin and sweetness don’t really go together. Especially the best kind of skin.” She slowly slid her free hand up her lover’s thigh, smiling broadly when her path was unencumbered. “I love how you never wear pantyhose.”

Jamie kissed her. “You told me you didn’t like them. Done.”

“The nylons you wear are really sexy.” Ryan’s voice had dropped into a lower register, and her words tumbled out lazily. She trailed her fingers up and down Jamie’s thigh, while she put her lips to her lover’s neck and sniffed delicately. “You smell so good.”

Relaxing in the embrace, Jamie dropped her head so that Ryan had more skin to work with. “I love it when you kiss my neck. You make me feel so sexy.”

“You are.” Ryan shifted to be able to reach between Jamie’s legs. She delicately stroked her, watching in fascination as her partner stiffened and arched her back. “You look just like a cat,” she whispered into Jamie’s ear. “A graceful, slinky, elegant cat whose back is being scratched.”

Jamie practically hummed her reply. “That’s not my back.”

“No, it definitely is not.” Ryan’s breath was warm and moist and Jamie’s pulse rose with each word. She squirmed in her embrace, pressing her body against Ryan’s. “I love your back, but this little spot,” she patted her softly, “is in another realm.”

Jamie turned her head and kissed Ryan hungrily. “I love how you play with me.”

Smiling warmly, Ryan said, “Playing is the best part of loving.”

“Even if we don’t make love today, like if we had a 7.0 earthquake right under our house in the next few moments, I’d feel loved just because of how you play with me. You make me feel special and very well loved.”

“Oh, you’re loved, sweetheart. You’re loved and desired and needed and…required. Yeah, touching you is an elemental part of my happiness requirement. I’ve never, ever, felt like this before.” She kissed Jamie’s neck, then moved up along her jaw, never stopping the kisses until she reached her lips. Then she took a breath, smiled, and touched her lover’s lips with her own. They kissed for a long time, both of them unhurried, just enjoying the sensation of loving and being loved.

“I love you, Ryan,” Jamie murmured. “I love every part of you.” She playfully bit the end of her nose. “I even love the part of you that likes to pee in your clothes.”

“And I love the part of you that thinks it’s gross.”

Giggling, Jamie said, “No, you don’t, but you put up with me very patiently.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Ryan sat up a little and straightened her shirt. “I love that you’re different from me. I think it’s charming that you get so grossed out so easily. It’s adorable.”

“Adorable?” Jamie asked, cocking an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Yeah, really. I’ve…dated women who were like me. You know, kinda rough and tumble.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“You know what I mean. Someone like Karen Joncas. She’s a ball of fun and I had a great time with her, but I never could have fallen in love with her. She’s too much like me.”

“I don’t get it,” Jamie said. “You’re certainly not given to self-hatred.”

“No, not hardly. But when I’m with someone like myself, it feels like play, only like play. I don’t have the urge to go any deeper.”

“Deeper how?”

“Emotionally. With you I want to expose more of myself, reveal myself. I don’t have that urge with someone who’s like me. It hardly seems necessary.”

“Huh. That surprises me a little, but I’m not sure why.” She placed a quick kiss on Ryan’s lips. “But I’m glad.”

“I’m glad too. You’re just perfect for me.”

“Even when I’m bitchy?”

Ryan grinned at her. “We’ll just have to wait until that dark day comes. I can’t guess about something that’ll probably never happen. I’m not a psychic, ya know.”

Jamie kissed her cheek so hard that she made a popping noise when she pulled away. “Are you sure you were never married before? You know exactly how to answer questions.”

“No. I’ve never, ever given my heart, and my future, to another. You’re the only one for me.”

Jamie sat back and gazed at her partner for a few moments. “Why don’t you go get the hot fudge and meet me upstairs?”

“Hot fudge?”

“Yeah. You wouldn’t have brought it up if you didn’t wanna do it. So warm it up a little and come upstairs. I’ll have your canvas bare and waiting.”

“But the sheets—”

“Washing the sheets is a very, very small price to pay to have your fantastically talented mouth touching me everywhere. And a little more caffeine couldn’t hurt.”

“Well, I do want to study later…”

Jamie kissed her, letting the kiss go on and on. “Meet me upstairs, you sexy beast.”

“After that kiss, I could warm up the fudge with my blood.” Ryan fanned herself dramatically, looking faint.

Jamie stood and held out her hand. “I’m so hot for you that you don’t even need to warm it.” She pulled Ryan to her feet and they kissed again, the kiss gaining intensity as it continued for precious seconds.

Ryan’s head dropped and she rested her chin against Jamie’s forehead. “Who needs fudge?” She bent and picked her lover up, carrying her up the stairs to their bedroom, while Jamie placed sweet, anticipatory kisses all over her face.

THE END

Table of Contents

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE

PART SIX

PART SEVEN

PART EIGHT

PART NINE

PART TEN

PART ELEVEN

PART TWELVE