Intentions - SF9 (31 page)

As I look back I'm merely trying to see,

Just what it was that made us spark

'Cause the fire's out, it leaves no doubt,

the flame's not burning in our hearts.

We still are young and both of us have time,

To find our winter love in spring

'Cause we know the truth, it ain't no use.

We're not each other's everything.

Ryan shot Catherine a sympathetic gaze and patted her leg once again. "I can't tell you how sorry I am, Catherine. I know you loved him…I think you still do," she added.

"Yes, yes, I do," she whispered through her tears. "Through everything that he's done…all of the ways he's hurt me and my child, there's something that isn't dead yet, Ryan. I don't know if that means I'm too hard-headed to let go, or if my love for him is still alive, but it eats at me, Ryan. It honestly breaks my heart."

"It's not over yet, Catherine," Ryan reminded her. "You never know what will happen."

"That's true," Catherine sighed. "I suppose I need to see how this story ends." Looking up at Ryan she pasted on a brave smile and said, "Maybe there's still a happy ending in store for us."

They were now in front of the house and Ryan asked, "Do you want to come in and say hi to Jamie?"

"Oh, Honey, I'd rather not. I don't like her to see me when I've been crying."

"She can handle it, Catherine. She's a pretty strong woman."

"You're right, Dear," the older woman smiled. "Perhaps it's just my own insecurities." She looked at Ryan and said, "I'd still rather not."

"Okay," Ryan agreed quietly. She put the car into park and got out, going over to the passenger side as Catherine exited. As the smaller woman looked up at her, Ryan encircled her with her long arms, holding her close until Catherine began to lean more heavily against her, finally allowing the warm hug to break through her carefully erected defenses. She sagged against Ryan, feeling younger and more vulnerable than she had felt in years, and the powerful arms tightened around her to hold her up.

"Let it out, Catherine," Ryan whispered. "It's okay. Just let it out."

The distraught woman cried for several minutes, her tears flowing unabated. Ryan hated to see her so upset, but she knew that her mother-in-law couldn't get through the coming months without a lot of tears falling from her warm brown eyes, and she was glad that she was here with her now, providing what comfort she could.

Catherine's blonde head finally lifted, and she reached into the car for another tissue, blotting her eyes repeatedly. "You've certainly seen me at my worst, Ryan," she said, a mild chuckle rising up from her chest.

"I've seen you at your best, too, Catherine," Ryan insisted. "Any way you are is just fine with me. We're family, remember?"

"Yes, I remember," she said softly. "It's one of the things that's kept me going over the last months. I hope you know that, Ryan."

"You mean a lot to me, Catherine. Are you sure you can drive home? We have an extra bed, you know."

"No, no, I'm fine. Please don't worry about me."

Ryan stroked her still-wet cheek and said, "I do worry about you, Catherine. One of the pleasant duties of family. Call when you get home, okay?"

"I'll will, Ryan…thank you," she added, standing on her tiptoes to place a kiss on her daughter-in-law's cheek.

Catherine walked into the kitchen a little before midnight. She slipped off her butterscotch suede jacket, exposing the off-white cashmere turtleneck, and twitched the sweater smooth over her dark brown wool slacks more from habit than need, since no one was up to see her.

She had called Jim from the car just a few minutes after leaving Ryan, but he had not answered the phone at his apartment. She left a message telling him that she'd be home around midnight if he wanted to call back. To her surprise, the phone rang at twelve on the dot, and she answered immediately.

"Hello?"

"Catherine, it's Jim," he said, sounding a little concerned. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, everything is fine, Jim. I was actually calling to see if you were interested in coming home this weekend."

"Home?" he said slowly, not at all sure of her meaning.

"Yes. As you probably know, both Jamie and Ryan are playing in tournaments at Stanford this weekend."

"And…?" he asked, thinking that she was inviting him, but having his doubts.

"The girls are staying here for the weekend, Jim, and Ryan's entire family will be here for a little party on Friday night. If you would like to come, it might be a good opportunity for you to meet her family and get to know her a little. I think Jamie would like it," she added needlessly.

"I'd be happy to come, Catherine. I appreciate that you're inviting me." He paused for just a second and asked, "How do you feel about me coming? Are you all right with it?"

"Of course," she said quickly. There was a tense silence as she added, "I'd like you to come too."

She could hear his smile even though she couldn't see it. "That's great, Catherine," he said. "I'll have my secretary make the arrangements. I suppose I should stay in San Mateo so I don't have to drive all the way into the city…"

"Stay here, Jim," she said before she had time to stop herself. "Surely we can manage to share a house for one weekend." Her tone was light, and it was clear that she was trying to inject some humor into a relatively tense situation.

"I'd like that, Catherine," he said quietly. "I've missed you."

"It's hard to have your routine destroyed," she ventured, trying to take the emotional note out of the conversation. "I'm sure Jamie will like having you here, Jim." She added, deciding that she'd better be clear, "Will you have a problem with her and Ryan sleeping together?"

He whistled through his teeth, letting out a low chuckle as he said, "You certainly know how to destroy a perfectly good mood."

"I just don't want there to be any nasty surprises this weekend, Jim. The girls are lovers, and they act very familiar with each other. I doubt they'll censor themselves because you're here. I'd rather that you didn't come if you don't think you can tolerate this."

He tried to brush off her concern again, saying, "No 'don't ask, don't tell' policy at the house, eh?"

"This is serious, Jim," she warned.

He sighed and said, "I know it is, Catherine, and I wish I could lie and say that it doesn't bother me, but it does. I uh…I think the sexual element is a big part of my discomfort with Ryan. I just don't want her in my daughter's bed," he said, his voice tight with tension.

"You can either get over that on your own, or you can try to work through it with Jamie, Jim. Those are your only options if you want to be close with her."

"I know that's not politically correct, but it's how I feel, Catherine," he pleaded.

"I hate to have to compromise my beliefs over this issue."

"No one is asking you to compromise your beliefs, Jim." After a pause she asked, "What are they anyway?"

There was a long silence as Jim tried to control his temper. "I don't believe that straight people should always have to tread lightly to avoid offending gay people! I don't want my child to be gay, and I'd prefer that I didn't have to witness her behavior, but I realize that isn't my choice any longer."

"Jim, I don't mean to belittle you, but those are not beliefs. Those are prejudices."

"How do you do it, Catherine? How do you handle seeing her with that woman? Doesn't it bother you in the least to know what they do together?"

She sighed heavily and took a moment to think about her answer, assuming that his question was sincere. "I don't know why, but it bothered me more to think of Jamie with Jack," she admitted.

"What?"

"You heard me. I knew what she and Jack did together-I knew they did the same kinds of things that I did. But I don't know what it's like to love a woman, so I don't really have many mental images to deal with. Ignorance can be bliss, Jim."

He shook his head, mentally chiding himself for all of the XXX movies with a lesbian theme that he had watched from his hotel rooms over the years. "It's different for you," he insisted. "She's not rejecting your entire sex!"

"She's not rejecting yours either, Jim. I certainly didn't feel that she was rejecting women when she was with Jack," she said in a frustrated tone. "Where do you even come up with arguments like this?"

"I don't know," he said glumly, sounding like a little boy who had been scolded. "I just don't want to have to think of them…like that."

"Look, Jim," she said firmly, "I try to treat Jamie like what she is-an adult. I don't get involved in my friends' sex lives, and I don't think I should intrude on Jamie's either. It's still a little odd for me when I see them kiss, but I'm happy that they act naturally around me. I guarantee that she will not spend any time alone with you until you make her believe that you accept both her relationship and her lover."

"Do you have to call her that?" he winced.

"What would you prefer?" she asked calmly.

"Anything that sounded less sexual!"

"All right, let's call Ryan her partner. You can delude yourself into believing it's a business relationship."

"This isn't funny, Catherine," he said in a clipped voice.

"I agree this is far from humorous, Jim. You seem nearly phobic about the sexual aspect of their relationship. I think you have to put that out of your mind and focus on their emotional bond."

"Fine. I'll focus on the bond Jamie has with her and ignore the fact that she used to have that with me!"

Catherine actually felt some empathy for him at that moment. She knew that her husband needed to control every aspect of his life, and she could well imagine that no longer being able to control Jamie was wreaking havoc on his psyche. "She never had that with you, Jim. The love you have for a parent is nothing like the bond you feel for your lov…partner," she said quickly as she corrected herself. "She has the capacity to love you both, if you will only let her."

He sighed, a thoroughly defeated man as he whispered, "Is this the only way?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "It is the only way."

On Wednesday morning Jim put in a call to Jamie's cell phone as soon as he thought she might be up. Ryan had already left, and she was just about to head to class when the call came in.

"Hi, Daddy," she said, finding that she no longer experienced a sense of dread when she heard his voice. "What's up?"

"Your mother called last night, Honey, and she has generously asked me to come down this weekend for the Stanford matches. I'd love to come, but I wanted to make sure you would like me to."

"Oh, well, yes, that would be great." She paused for a minute and asked, "Do you think you're ready for that, Dad? Ryan's whole family will be there…" She trailed off, not needing to mention her wish to have him attend only if he was able to behave himself.

"I want to get to know her better, Jamie," he said. "I can't think of a better way to know someone than to see them with their family."

"Okay, Dad, if you feel like making an effort, I'd be glad to have you come."

"Great, Honey, that's just great. I think I'll come this afternoon and spend some time at the office. I'm still trying to wind up some work that I couldn't get finished before I left for Washington."

"Oh, okay," she said.

"Any chance we could have dinner together?" he asked hopefully.

She considered the offer for just a moment, deciding that she needed to reserve some time alone with her father in order to normalize relations once again. "Sure. I have a lot of studying to do since it's mid-term week, so it'll have to be a quick one."

"Great," he said, sounding very happy. "I'll come by and pick you up. I think I'll be there around 5:30. Is that all right?"

"Yes, that's fine. That'll just give me enough time to stop and buy something simple for Ryan to have for dinner."

He smirked to himself, thinking it rather ironic that his daughter had fallen into a homema
ker role, given her upbringing.
"All right, Honey. I'll pick you up this evening."

Ryan dragged her tired body into the house on Wednesday night, Jordan trailing right behind her.

Mia poked her head out of the kitchen, giving Jordan a wave and blowing a kiss. "I'm in charge of feeding you two. Are you ready to eat?"

"I'm too tired to eat," Ryan moaned as she tossed her legs over the arm of the loveseat and reclined fully.

"Uh-uh, Ryan. Jamie will have my head if I don't pour some calories into you."

"Where is Jamie, anyway?" Ryan asked. "Did she leave a note?"

"Nope. She's out with her dad," Mia informed her. "He came into town early, so she decided to have dinner with him."

"That's nice," Ryan said, preferring to have her partner at home, but glad that she was getting in a little bonding time with her father.

"Look on the table for your messages, Ryan," Mia instructed. "Some girl's been calling here every 15 minutes looking for you. Jennie something or other."

Her fatigue forgotten, Ryan leapt to her feet so quickly she got a head rush. "Damn, damn, damn!" she said as she dashed to the table by the stairs and looked at the message that merely stated Jennie's name. "How do I get in touch with her?"

"She said she has to call you 'cause she's not at home. She sounded really upset, Ryan. What's going on?"

"I mentor her through a program for gay and lesbian kids that have trouble at home. She's really a handful," she said, sitting down on the wooden chair they kept by the table.

As if on cue, the phone rang. Ryan picked up and heard the tremulous voice say, "Ryan?"

"What's wrong, Jen?" she asked immediately.

"I got thrown out again," she sobbed.

"Oh, Sweetheart," she said sympathetically, "Where are you, Hon? I'll come get you and see if can't work this out."

"I'm sick of this, Ryan," she wailed. "I want to go home!"

"We can talk about it when I get there, Jen, now tell me where you are."

"I'm over by the office," she said.

"Jennie," Ryan said, "the office is closed now. What are you doing there?"

"I'm just hanging out, Ryan. It's no big deal."

"It is a big deal, and you know it," she chided her gently. "You're just going to get into more trouble. I'll be over to get you within 15 minutes. Are you at the pay phone on the corner?"

"Yeah, but I have to keep moving. Just ask some of the kids. They all know me."

I bet they do
, Ryan thought to herself. "Okay, don't leave and don't talk to anyone in a car. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Ryan. I hear you. See you soon."

Ryan hung up and blew out an aggrieved breath. "Maybe we shouldn't have kids," she mumbled to herself.

"Ryan, what's going on?" Mia demanded.

"I've got to go," she said absently as she started for the door, but Mia's surprisingly strong grasp pulled her up short.

"No way, Ryan. You're going to eat something before you walk out that door. And that's final!"

"Jesus! She really did put the fear of the Lord into you didn't she?"

"I'm not afraid of Jamie, but I care about you, Ryan," she said softly. "I want to make sure you stay healthy."

Ryan's face broke into a shy grin as she agreed. "Okay, but I've gotta eat quick. God knows how much trouble she can get into in an amazingly brief period of time."

"Well she's been calling here since five, so another 15 minutes won't kill her. Now tell us what's going on?" Mia demanded as she placed a sweet kiss on Jordan's lips and led both athletes into the kitchen.

Ryan took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts, knowing that Jennie wouldn't mind some disclosure of her situation. "As I said, I work with Jennie, and have for almost 18 months. She's a very sweet kid, but she and her mother are like oil and water, and regrettably her father's not in the picture, so it's just the two of them. Her mom discovered she was gay and threw her out of the house-absolutely refused to allow her to return."

Mia and Jordan were staring at her, their eyes wide with shock. Ryan nodded in agreement, "Amazing, isn't it? Well, the Department of Children and Family Services got involved, thanks to one of Jennie's friend's mothers. They finally agreed that Jennie could not go home, given how tense things were, so after a couple of unsuccessful attempts at placing her in foster care, she eventually wound up in this group home for 'throwaway' kids as they're called. That's how I got involved."

"Her mom would rather have her in a home? Just because she's gay?" Mia asked in shock.

"Well, that's open to interpretation. In Jennie's case, being gay doesn't help, but she probably would have been thrown out even if she was straight. She and her mom are both really volatile, and they're on each other constantly. Her mom is very authoritarian, and Jennie just has to push her to the edge on every issue."

"How long has she been at the home?"

"She was there almost a year. She finally went home to her mother a few months ago. Jennie's social worker has been doing everything she can to keep them together-which is what they both say they want, by the way-but it sounds like Mrs. Willis snapped again."

"So where is she now?" Mia asked as she spooned a generous portion of vegetable soufflé onto all three plates.

"The Gay Teens in Crisis office is where the kids hang out during the day. They can use the phone there and get referrals to various programs. They also have counselors and substance abuse meetings. But at night it becomes a big pick-up place for the scum that prey on young, troubled kids. One of the few times I wished I had a firearm was when I went to get her one night and saw a 40-year-old man trying to talk a little boy into his car. I pulled up alongside and made a show of writing his license plate down so he took off, but I assume he came back as soon as I left."

"That's beyond disgusting," Jordan muttered as she shivered involuntarily.

"Anyway, that's why I don't want to waste time. Jennie is prone to act out when she and her mom fight. I don't think she's ever tricked, but I honestly wouldn't put anything past her."

"Should we go with you, Ryan?" Jordan asked. "Sounds like a rough neighborhood."

"Nah. It's not dangerous for adults. It's just vulnerable kids who are at risk in this place."

"You sure?" Jordan asked, not willing to let her friend invite trouble she might not be able to handle.

"Positive. I've done this several times."

"Will you be home late?" Mia asked, knowing that Jamie would be concerned.

"Well, probably not, but I'll have to bring her back here first. I want to talk to her mom on the phone, and if she agrees then I'll take her home. Damn," she muttered, "Jennie was just starting to feel comfortable in her new school. She just started high school, by the way. I hope to God that she doesn't have to go back to the home-she'll have to switch high schools if that happens." Ryan had gulped down all of the food that Mia had doled out, and she bent to kiss her friends, then made for the door. "Tell Jamie where I am if she gets here before I do."

"Oh! She took your car. She said yours is always low on gas so she took it to fill it up for you."

Ryan shook her head as she headed for the door. "I am so terribly spoiled," she said as she shot her friends a guilty look.

"You spoil each other," Mia corrected her, "and that's the way it should be."

Jamie had the top down on the car and rather than waste time, Ryan left it as it was. The night was cool and a little foggy, but she thought the cool air might revive her a bit.
Thank God I took a shower tonight
, she thought wryly.
My clothes were so wet they would have frozen right on me.

She arrived at the run-down industrial neighborhood about ten minutes later. The young kids hung out in about a three-block area, most of them standing in groups of two or three. The older kids and young men liked to work a corner alone, so the area they worked could be six or seven blocks long, depending on how many of them there were on a given night. There were always a few transsexuals on one particular corner, and tonight was no exception. Because of the near-constant harassment and the possibility of gay bashing, during business hours they stayed close to the office in case they had to make a run for it. At night, however, there was no safe haven in this very rough neighborhood, despite the fact that the Oakland police had been trying to crack down on prostitution. It seemed to Ryan that too often the victims became the targets of such initiatives, starting with the transsexuals.

About three blocks from the office, Ryan spotted the first group of young men. Three boys about 15 years old were having a discussion and when Ryan slowed down, one of them immediately came to the car and leaned over, holding on to the top of the windshield as he did so. "Oh no, Honey," he said dramatically. "You're in the wrong place."

"I'm looking for a friend," Ryan assured him.

"Aren't we all?" he coyly replied as he batted his big brown eyes.

"I'm looking for a girl named Jennie. Do you guys know her? Shaved head, baggy bell-bottoms? Usually has on a big white T-shirt?"

"Oh, she's here," the young man assured her. "She was by a little while ago. But she doesn't trick, girlfriend," he said in a dismissive tone.

"I'm glad to hear that. She really is my friend," Ryan said with a smile, before she pulled away.

After her fifth stop, the occupants of an unmarked police car looked to each other and nodded with a knowing smirk. They radioed ahead to the detectives waiting behind the office of the teen center, "Yellow Porsche Boxster. Driver has long brown hair. Obviously looking for something special. License number JDSE 211. Vehicle registered to James Evans, Hillsborough. Looks like Mr. Evans is keeping company outside of his neighborhood tonight. Pull him over if he snags anyone."

"Roger," crackled the radio.

Moments later Ryan finally spotted Jennie. She was standing with two other girls, both of whom looked like they were hooking.
Damn, damn, damn!
Ryan cried in frustration.
If she lives to see 15, I'll be surprised!

Jennie ran to the car and leaned into the passenger compartment. "Do you have any money, Ryan?" she asked anxiously. "My friends haven't eaten since yesterday, and business is so slow they're not gonna eat tonight either."

Ryan rolled her eyes and reached for her wallet but stopped short when she realized it was still in her gym bag. Luckily she remembered that Jamie always kept money in the ashtray for emergencies. She reached inside and pulled out the two twenties and stuck her hand out to offer the money to Jennie just as both of her friends began to run for their lives. The spotlight of the unmarked car hit her at precisely the same time that Jennie accepted the money and started to get into the car. "Don't anybody move!" the disembodied voice from the loudspeaker ordered.

Jennie looked panicked, and before Ryan could say a word, she took off in the same direction as her friends. "Fuck!" Ryan cried as she watched her run down the dark street, holding up her outrageously huge pants.

"Put your hands on the steering wheel," the voice boomed, and Ryan immediately complied.

The two officers approached her car with their weapons drawn. They had parked about ten yards behind her, and one officer came from each side. The one on the right stayed behind the car with his weapon aimed at her head while the other approached the driver door. "Keep your hands on the wheel. Do not make any sudden moves," he commanded.

Ryan knew enough about law enforcement to know it was futile to argue at this point, so she immediately complied with each of their instructions, while remaining silent.

The officer yanked open her door and ordered, "Put your hands above your head and exit the vehicle." She had removed her seat belt when she reached out with the money, so she was able to get out without impediment. "Walk around to the hood of the car," he directed. When she got there he said, "Step back two paces and lean forward with your hands on the hood." As soon as she complied, he whipped a pair of handcuffs onto her right wrist and yanked her arm behind her back as he pulled her left arm back and snapped that cuff on.

"License and registration," the officer demanded.

"Registration in the glove box. I don't have my license with me."

The second officer went to the radio to communicate with the lead officer. "We have the perp in the Porsche cuffed. $40 confiscated. All three juveniles escaped. No identification. Registration looks clean. Check for vehicle reported stolen."

The radio crackled back, "That car belongs to our new senator. If it's Evans, you'd better let him off with a warning."

"Not him," the officer replied. "It's a woman."

There was a pause, then the voice asked, "It's not his wife, is it?"

"No way," the officer confidently said. "I'll identify her."

He walked back to Ryan and asked, "What's your name?"

"
Siobhan
O'Flaherty."

Walking back to the car the officer reported, "She's not an Evans. Some kinda Irish sounding name."

"There's been no report of theft, but I think the Senator's in Washington already. She might have stolen the car. Run her in. Impound the vehicle. We'll wait for the tow."