Disclosures - SF4 (46 page)

She turned back to Jamie as she closed the door and asked, "Is your father at home?"

"No. We played golf this morning, but he had an appointment to see someone about a car. He said to tell you that he’d be home for dinner."

"That’s nice, Dear," she said, giving Jamie another pleased smile. She looked in the gilt-framed mirror in the foyer and fussed with her hair for a moment. "Oh my, I’m afraid I look as exhausted as I feel."

"You probably want to take a nap before dinner," Jamie realized. "I can come down another time to see you."

"No, no, don’t be silly. It’s not even five o’clock, Jamie. I think I’ll have a little something for dinner and turn in early. I’ve got to get my clock back on west coast time."

"Are you certain?" Jamie suddenly felt very selfish for springing this news on her mother when she was obviously tired. Italy was nine hours ahead of San Francisco, and she knew that her mother had a hard time sleeping on planes. But she was in too deep to turn back now, and she was certain that Laura Martin would not hold her tongue for long.

As if on cue, the telephone rang and Catherine walked into the living room to pick it up. "Hello, Laura," she said graciously after her friend had identified herself.

Her fear becoming fact so suddenly, Jamie nearly fainted dead away. She found her way into the living room, and fell gracelessly onto one of the enormous couches in the massive room. Her stomach clenched violently, and for one fleeting moment she considered jumping up to wrestle the phone from her mother’s hands, but she decided to allow the inevitable to occur.

"No, I didn’t get your message, Laura. To be honest, I just walked into the house. I was very pleased to find my lovely daughter waiting for me." She turned to give Jamie a fond smile, and was startled to see her daughter’s face resembling that of someone being led to execution.

"Pardon?" she said, focusing her attention back onto her friend. "What did you say, Laura?"

"No, she’s alone…why do you ask?"

Jamie leaned over abruptly, dropping her head into her hands. Catherine could see how upset she was, and it was obvious that Jamie already knew what Laura was trying to convey.

Moments later, all of the color drained from Catherine’s face. She blindly felt for and grasped an elegant little carved writing chair and lowered her body into it. "No, I didn’t know that Jamie referred to herself that way," she said in a wavering voice. Jamie felt like impaling herself on the fireplace tools when she heard the tone in her mother’s voice. It was the most emotion she had ever heard from the woman, and she realized how tremendously hard it must be for her to hear this news from outside the family.

To her amazement, her mother’s cool resurfaced almost before she registered its loss. "I’m sure that was a little joke, Laura. Jamie is not Mrs. Ryan O’Flaherty. I can assure you of that." Catherine turned to lock her gaze onto her daughter’s—and saw the guilt reflected in the moss green eyes.

"Of course we know of Ryan, Laura," she said blithely, her face an expressionless mask. "It’s just not possible for women to marry in California. Don’t you have any gay friends, Dear?"

Jamie’s brow furrowed as she tried to get her mind around her mother’s words. It suddenly became obvious that Laura Martin was not going to get the satisfaction that she wished from this interchange. It was all Jamie could do not to shout, "Go Mother!"

"Yes, of course, we know of their relationship. Jamie just hasn’t been ready to share it with the world at large yet." Her large, warm brown eyes softened as she saw the gratitude that emanated from her daughter. "That does, of course, beg the question of why you thought it your place to bring this to my attention, Laura. You obviously thought this was news to me."

A stonily determined look had now replaced the warmth in her eyes, and Catherine looked away from her daughter, staring out the windows of the living room as she said, "Jamie has never given us one moment of trouble, Laura. She is the most wonderful child I could hope to be blessed with, and her sexual orientation doesn’t change that in the least. This is an intensely private issue for Jamie, and I should think that you would respect her privacy."

Catherine smirked, going in for the kill. "No, we are truly not concerned about her. I’m intensely proud of my daughter, and I’m happy to say that she’s generous, kind, and thoughtful to a fault. She’s never hurt anyone intentionally, Laura, and those traits are far more important than who she sleeps with."

As her expression reverted to one of warmth, she turned and shared a small smile with her daughter. "Oh, I’m
sure
that was your intention, Laura," she murmured with obviously false sincerity. "Of course I’m gratified that you are so concerned about her. I’ll relay your good wishes. Yes, of course I’ll be at the board meeting on Monday. I’ll see you then."

After Catherine replaced the receiver onto the cradle, she sat absolutely still for a few minutes. She got to her feet and turned to a still-shaken Jamie and said, "I’ve just one question, Dear. Will you join me for a drink?"

A long silence passed between them as they sat in the same chairs Jamie and Marta had occupied earlier. The robotic pool cleaner was making quick work of the few leaves that had the temerity to spoil the pristine aqua waters of the large, deep pool, and Jamie spent a few minutes watching it, glad to have something to occupy her mind.

Marta had prepared a large tray that held decanters of vodka, gin, and scotch, sweet and plain soda, vermouth, and Campari. Jamie decided on Campari and soda, and Catherine echoed her choice, mentally extending the feeling of Italy when she took a sip.

"I had a Campari every afternoon at around this time during my trip," she said softly, a wistful look in her eyes.

"I bet part of you wishes you were still there," Jamie offered, deciding to break the ice.

Her mother turned and looked at her closely for a minute, then said, "Not in the least, Dear. It was a lovely surprise to see you when I walked in—I haven’t changed my mind."

Jamie was a bit nonplussed by the tone in her mother’s voice. For the first time in her life, her mother sounded…tired. There was some quality of resignation—almost of defeat—but the words themselves were gentle, welcoming.

"Are you…all right with this?" she asked, unsure of how to approach the topic.

"All right?" she said slowly, trying to decide what her reaction should be. "I don’t think that term would convey my feelings, no."

"What would, Mother?"

Catherine took another sip of her drink and set the glass on the table. "That’s difficult to say, Jamie. I would suppose that I could best sum up my feelings by saying that I’m far from surprised--and I’m deeply wounded."

"Wounded?" she asked in puzzlement, thinking that was an odd choice of words.

"Yes, Dear, I’m wounded. I tried to get you to be honest with me when I came to your house. It was clear to me then that something was going on, since I found Cassie’s original story too believable to be dismissed. I truly wish that you had told me then. It hurts to know that you lied to me, especially since I made it clear how important it was to me that you tell me the truth." The look on her face was still calm and her voice was cool and even. But Jamie could see a deep hurt reflected in those velvety eyes, and she knew that she was responsible for it.

She hung her head, unable to face her mother. She had never knowingly lied to her before that incident, and it still bothered her despite Ryan and her grandfather's reassurance that she was just protecting herself. "I’m sorry, Mother, I really am," she insisted. "But I couldn’t tell you then because I was in the midst of figuring it out for myself."

Catherine tilted her head to stare at her daughter for a moment. "Tell me more," she said softly.

The sun was obscured by a very large bank of clouds, and Jamie began to shiver, both from the cold and from her trepidation about revealing the intimate details of the journey of her sexual awakening.

"Let’s go inside," Catherine suggested. "You look chilled."

"Okay," Jamie agreed, glad for the break. She carried the tray into the house, deciding to take it into the living room for the inevitable refills.

Once they were settled, she began to speak. "I’ve had some notion that something was amiss in the way I felt about men for a very long time."

Her mother tilted her head in question, but did not comment.

"I didn’t tell you this, but last fall I took a class called, The Lesbian Experience. Jack and I had been engaged three months at the time, but I was so unsatisfied." She glanced at her mother’s concerned face and added, "Physically as well as emotionally."

Catherine nodded, encouraging Jamie to continue. She leaned over and refilled her glass, this time adding vodka to the mix.

"I met Ryan on the first day of class, and what started out as a friendship grew to be more and more. The day after Jack broke up with me, I realized that I was in love with her." Even though this was a hard thing to discuss, Jamie could not help but smile when she said these words. Her mother caught the look and reflected it, her smile erasing years from her face.

"That was a very, very hard time for me, Mother. I was so devastated by all of my conflicting emotions that I decided to get into therapy. My therapist and I worked on this issue non-stop through April, and it was only then that I revealed my feelings to Ryan. We decided to take things slowly—very slowly—so that I could get used to the way I felt. We waited until just three weeks ago to be together physically."

Catherine performed the simple math and recognized that her daughter had used the house in Pebble Beach as more than just a small vacation getaway. She knew it was small-minded, but a part of her was angry with Jamie for using their family retreat as a place to tryst. She tried to dismiss the thought, but her mind was assailed by images of her daughter in another woman’s arms.

Jamie did not notice her look of consternation, since she continued, "I was unwilling to tell anyone until I was absolutely sure that this was right for me, Mother. When you asked me if I was involved with Ryan, I just couldn’t be honest with you."

"Well, technically, you could have been," Catherine corrected, "but you obviously did not feel that I would be supportive. I must bear the responsibility for that." Her eyes were dark, and she suddenly looked every one of her 41 years. "I have a question about all of this, Jamie. I know you’re justifiably angry with her, but I should tell you that Cassie told Laura about your attempts to get back with Jack. How does that fit into this equation?"

Jamie stood and walked around the elegantly decorated room for a few minutes. She picked up various items and examined them as she considered the question. A picture of the three of them caught her eye and she held it so that her mother could see it. "I was afraid," she said quietly. "I was afraid that I couldn’t have
this
if I admitted who I really was."

Catherine got up and stood next to her daughter. She placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and asked, "I don’t understand your point, Jamie. What were you afraid of?"

Jamie blew out a breath and said, "It’s so much easier to be straight, Mother! I was ready to jump into a relationship with Ryan, but I pulled back at the last minute. I thought I would be willing to have a relationship with a man even if it wasn’t what I really wanted, because it would be so much easier!"

"But you couldn’t do it?" she asked carefully.

"No, I couldn’t. When Jack made love to me I could only see Ryan’s face, and once I acknowledged that, I just couldn’t go on with the charade."

"I’m sorry, Jamie," Catherine said softly. "And I’m sorry this has been so hard for you."

"But it’s not now!" she said with genuine enthusiasm. "Once I made the decision it’s been so freeing! I’m amazed at how marvelous I really feel, Mother. I swear I’ve never felt this wonderful in my whole life!"

"I’m happy for that," Catherine said with a small smile as she walked back to the sofa. "I just...I just wish that you felt that you could work out your issues
with
us, rather than just inform us of them."

Jamie had a very strong suspicion that her mother’s wish was rather fanciful, so she asked, "Is that really what you want, Mother? Would you really want me to tell you I was attracted to Ryan if it was just a passing interest?"

Catherine considered this scenario for a moment, pursing her lips as she tried to determine how she felt. "I’m not sure, Jamie. There is a part of me that would like to help you figure things out, but I will admit that it might be difficult for me to help you struggle through your sexual feelings. I suppose that talking to a professional was the best choice."

"I just didn’t think that people who loved me could be objective about this," Jamie said, trying to convince her mother that she was not trying to shut her out.

"Even though I admit that I’m not objective, I would hope that I could listen to you without trying to influence you too strongly. I would really love it if you would at least try to talk to me before you make any major life choices, Jamie."

"Maybe I will be able to in the future," she offered "I would be happy to try to be more open with you about things in my life, if you would really like me to."

"I would, dear. As I told you at your home, I wish that we were closer. I just feel like you’re slipping away from us, Honey, and it scares me." Tears began to slide down Catherine’s patrician features, and Jamie stared at her for a moment, paralyzed with indecision. She had never seen her mother cry, and she was confused as to how she should react. She decided to just go with her feelings, so she moved closer and put her arms around her mother and held her close. Catherine was tense at first, but she soon loosened up and gratefully returned the hug. She clung to her daughter tightly, her head on her shoulder, just letting the tears come.