Honesty - SF8 (17 page)

"We’ll have it again before I’m through," he yelled.

"Not at the rate you’re going," she said with all of the empathy she could muster. "You’ll be lucky to get a Christmas card from her." With that, she strode up the stairs to her room, further saddened to see that he had removed all of his possessions from the space.

Ryan was alone in the house on Thursday, her roommates having decided that she was well enough to no longer require a babysitter. When the phone rang at ten o’clock she answered, "Miss me, Sweetness?"

"Why yes, I did, Ryan," Catherine laughed. "Is that what you plan on calling me henceforth?"

"Well, I could," Ryan said, pausing to cough harshly, "but Jamie called dibs." Another cough and Ryan said, "Welcome home, Catherine. We both missed you."

"Are you ill, Ryan? That cough sounds dreadful."

"Yeah. I’ve had the flu," she said. "This is my first day where I can sit up. I’m hoping to make it over to the love seat this afternoon if I can get a good nap in."

"Oh my word! You’re the picture of health!"

"The picture’s pretty grim at this point, Catherine. I’m a shadow of my former self. Luckily my beloved spouse has been a spectacular nurse. Goodness knows where I’d be without her."

"Is she home, Dear? I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed her."

"No, this is her long day. She’s not home until six or so."

"Who’s watching the patient?" Catherine asked. "It’s awfully soon to be on your own."

"I think I’m okay," Ryan decided. "Jamie can’t afford to miss any more school. She’s been here almost constantly all week."

"What will you have for lunch, Ryan? Surely you can’t cook for yourself."

"Jamie handled that, Catherine. I’m looking at a very nice peanut butter and jelly sandwich that she made for me. I just have to get up the strength to eat it."

"Nonsense. You need a hot meal, and I’m going to bring you one. I’ll be there by one, Ryan. Now go back to sleep."

Before Ryan could say another word, Catherine had hung up.
Gee, I wonder where Jamie gets her determination?
she wondered idly.

When Ryan woke at noon, she used the bathroom and then made her way downstairs. This was her first trip down the long staircase, and she was proud that she managed to travel the entire length without assistance.
My, how your goals have shrunk
. The long walk exhausted her, and she curled up on the small sofa for a little nap.

When Catherine rang the bell Ryan nearly fell from the sofa, but she collected her wits and made her way to the door. As Catherine took her in, she nearly gasped at the vision that greeted her. Ryan had actually tried to clean up a little, putting on her new pajamas. Regrettably, she was down at least one full size, the pants now so loose that the drawstring was pulled tight to hold them up. Her color was still quite pasty, her eyes a little dull. She hadn’t yet taken a full shower, so her hair was lifeless and dirty, not a trace of bounce or shine in the dark locks.

"Dreadful, huh?" Ryan shrugged, indicating herself.

"No, no, of course not, Dear. You just look like you’ve been through a rough time." She offered a tentative hug, immediately noticing how frail Ryan seemed—almost as if her sturdy muscularity had been surgically removed. "We just have to concentrate on getting some food into you."

"Yeah. Jamie was complaining before I got sick. I lost a good ten pounds this week."

"Well, let’s start here," Catherine said, opening a container filled with a thick, hearty chicken soup with rice and vegetables. "Marta made this when I told her I was going to visit a sick friend," Catherine informed her. "She says that it’s an old family recipe, guaranteed to cure all of your ills."

Ryan’s mouth was watering by the time they had the soup ladled out. She dug in and treated Catherine to a full-blown demonstration of the patented O’Flaherty swoon. Catherine laughed in amusement as she watched Ryan make over the soup in the most delightful way. "I can see why Jamie likes to cook if you give her that type of reaction," she said with a smile.

"This is just awesome, Catherine," she said sincerely. "I love soup, and it seems to settle well on my stomach."

Except for a few coughing fits that were as painful to watch as they were to experience, lunch went very well. Catherine updated her on all of the news from Italy, but since Ryan had no activities of her own to speak of, she told all about Jamie’s golf and her classes. Catherine insisted on clearing the table and, to Ryan’s great surprise, she even washed the dishes. After Ryan directed her to the proper home of every item, she suggested they retire to the parlor.

"I really feel a lot better, Catherine," Ryan said with a happy grin. "A delicious lunch works wonders for me."

"I’m glad you enjoyed it, Ryan. I assume you’ve not been able to play in your volleyball games. Will you be able to rejoin your team soon?"

"I don’t know. We have away games tomorrow and Saturday, and then we’re home on Wednesday. That’s what I’m aiming for."

"Well, you let me know when you are going to play. I’ll be in your cheering section!"

"Thanks, Catherine. That means a lot to me."

"You and Jamie are my family, Ryan. You mean a lot to me."

"Um…speaking of family, are things going all right with Jim? I don’t mean to pry but…"

"You’re not prying at all, Dear. No, things aren’t going well. We’re not speaking. It’s a very, very tense atmosphere at our home."

"I’m very sorry to hear that, Catherine. I know this is hard on you."

"In a way it is, but in another way it’s rather freeing," she said thoughtfully. "We haven’t been emotionally involved for a long while. This is just making that rift a little more defined."

"It’s going to be very hard for Jamie," Ryan said softly.

"I know that, Ryan. I don’t think we’re at the point of divorcing, yet, but it’s going to take a small miracle to keep us together."

"I hope you know that I’ll support you in any way that I can, Catherine."

Catherine gave her a wide smile as she said, "I know that, Ryan, and that means a great deal to me." Getting up to leave, she advised, "Now you take it easy the rest of the week. You can’t afford a relapse."

"I know," she agreed. "I think even Jamie is getting tired of taking care of me."

"I’m sure that isn’t true," Catherine chided as she patted her cheek. "She seems to thrive on a steady diet of you, Ryan."

As soon as Catherine left, Ryan went back upstairs and fell asleep before she had time to let out a deep breath. She stayed in the same position that she fell in, sleeping through to the evening.

The volleyball team was meeting on campus at seven to catch a late flight to Colorado for the weekend games, but before she left Jordan decided to stop by to see how Ryan was doing. Jamie was just finishing with the dinner preparations and, as usual, she invited Jordan to join them.

"Oh God, Jamie, you feed me so often I really feel like I’m taking advantage of you," she said, dropping her gym bag and letting her nose lead her into the kitchen.

"Is that a yes?" Jamie teased as she basted the chicken she was roasting.

"Do you have enough?" Jordan asked hesitantly. "One chicken doesn’t hold up well to Ryan’s appetite."

"It does now," she said regretfully. "Her appetite is way below normal. She’ll eat the dressing I made, but she’ll hardly make a dent in the chicken. We really do have enough, Jordan, and I’d like for you to stay. Her mood has really been down, and I’d appreciate it if you could help me cheer her up."

"Where is she, anyway?"

"She’s in bed. She was out cold when I got home, and I haven’t heard a peep out of her since I got home an hour ago."

Just then Ryan came shuffling into the kitchen. She honestly looked like hell, and Jordan actually gasped a bit when she saw her. She wore a navy blue T-shirt that was probably too big at her normal weight, but now it hung loosely from her shoulders and accentuated her weight loss. The thin, black watch plaid, flannel pajama bottoms that she wore made a more forceful statement, however. Even though the drawstring waist was cinched as tight as it would go, the pants hung so low on her hips that Jamie knew they were less than a couple of inches from revealing her dark curls. Running a hand through her hair she yanked up her pants with the other hand and said flatly, "Hey, Jordan." She walked over to Jamie and gave her a brief hug before she flopped down heavily into one of the kitchen chairs. "What’s going on?" she asked, even though it was clear that she didn’t care.

Jordan still looked too shocked to speak, but she shook her head to force herself. "I’ve got something for you," she said as she scampered from the room to lug her gym bag into the kitchen. She produced two cards and a reasonably intact bouquet of flowers for her friend.

Ryan looked up at her with a small smile and asked, "For me?"

"Yeah," Jordan said as she sat in a facing chair. She placed her hand on Ryan’s knee and said, "We miss you, Ryan. It’s just not much fun without you. I don’t have anyone to harass."

Ryan reached out and ruffled her hair as she sat back to open her cards. She chuckled at both and handed them to Jamie who took them and the flowers and arranged them on the table.

Dinner was just about ready, and Jordan hopped up to set the table and help bring the food over. True to Jamie’s prediction, Ryan picked at the chicken but ate a reasonable amount of dressing, broccoli, and butternut squash. Jordan more than made up for Ryan’s diminished appetite, and the entire meal quickly disappeared.

Ryan didn’t even try to get up to help, satisfied to watch her friend aid in the cleanup. "So, give me the story behind the first game," she finally demanded.

Jordan had avoided this topic since she knew it would only serve to depress her friend, but she couldn’t avoid a direct question so she gave her the scoop. "Well, Hawaii is a powerhouse as usual. They kicked our butts, but it was well deserved. Their middle blockers are just awesome, Ryan. They’re clearly in a class above us."

"Do you really believe that?" Ryan asked, doubting her friend's assessment.

"Well…Heather started in your place, and she just had a terrible game. I don’t know what her problem was, but she didn’t have one kill in the first game. Coach finally took her out, but Ashley didn’t do much better. When it became obvious that we were weak on the outside, they tweaked their offense to target them and just pounded them all night. It was actually kind of sickening. You know how it is when momentum starts to shift against you? We just couldn’t do anything right. Our service percentage sucked, we couldn’t get up for blocks, God, I think we had something like 20 kills for the night! So clearly no one played well, including me. We were just incredibly flat."

Ryan just looked down at the table in silence. It broke her heart to see her team struggling and not be able to help, but she was truly powerless. "I’m really sorry I let you down," she said as a tear started to leak out. "I’ll see ya," she mumbled as she got up from the table holding her baggy pants up as she shuffled from the room.

Jordan gave her a wide-eyed stare as she left the kitchen. She turned to Jamie and said, "I…I…I don’t know…she’s so…"

"I know, Jordan," she said as she patted her back. "She’s just not herself. She gets upset really easily, and I know she blames herself for not being healthy. She’s as depressed as I’ve ever seen her."

"God, I wish I hadn’t come," she mumbled. "I know I made it worse!"

"No you didn’t," Jamie assured her as she squeezed her shoulder. "Believe me, if you hadn’t come, she would be morbidly depressed that no one cared about her. She’s just really ill and it’s affected her mood."

"Should I go upstairs and try to tell her that we don’t blame her?"

"If you want to you can try, but there’s a good chance that she’ll blow you off or cry like a baby."

"I think I’ll try anyway," she gamely replied as she gathered her courage. She shot Jamie a worried glance as she admitted, "I’m not great with emotional situations."

"It’ll be okay," Jamie soothed. "Just talk to her in jock talk. That should help."

Jordan slowly made her way upstairs and paused when she came to the first open door. Ryan was lying on the bed on top of the covers with her arm thrown over her eyes. Jordan sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed the tangled hair from Ryan’s face. "We’re not mad at you for missing the games, Ryan. We know how sick you’ve been. To be honest, I’m amazed you’re not hospitalized! You just look so frail," she said softly as a tear leaked out of her eye.

Ryan kept her arm right where it was, but she did warn her friend, "I’m probably still contagious, you know. You might want to keep your distance."

"Thanks for the warning, but I want to be with you. I didn’t come over here to make you feel bad, Ryan. I really want you to know that I miss you, and not just as a teammate. I miss talking to you and joking with you, and kicking your lame little butt," she said as she patted her cheek.

Ryan dropped her arm and gave her a genuine half smile. "I could probably still take you in a 400, and I’m as weak as a sick pup."

"One time, O’Flaherty. You beat me one time, and I swear that I was carrying at least five pounds of lead in my pockets. When you get well, we’re having a showdown! Loser has to carry the winner’s baggage on all road trips for the rest of the year!"