Honesty - SF8 (5 page)

Jamie nodded her understanding then yawned loudly, her jaw popping. "Can we go to sleep now?"

"Sure." Ryan scooted down in the bed, tentatively extending her arm. "Cuddle?" she asked, the lack of confidence revealing itself clearly.

"Always," Jamie said, snuggling up tight. "I’m sorry I refused to stay with you earlier. That wasn’t a kind thing to do."

"S’okay," she muttered. Her relief was palpable as Ryan sighed deeply, almost asleep in the time it took her to yawn. With a start she jerked awake, gasping, "Shit! I forgot! Your father came here this evening!"

"Did you hit him?" Jamie asked lazily.

"No, of course not."

"Did he hit you?"

"Again, no," Ryan drawled.

"Anything momentous happen?"

"He knows your mom told you about the affair."

"No shit, Sherlock," the smaller woman whispered, placing a soft kiss on Ryan’s cheek. "I love you, Ryan. Even when I’m angry with you, I still love you."

Nuzzling her face into Jamie’s hair, Ryan took in a breath, immediately calmed by the sweet scent. "Even when I hurt you, I hope you never question my love," she whispered softly. "No matter what, Jamie--through every problem, every fight--my love for you is constant."

Rolling onto her side, Jamie pulled Ryan’s arm across her body, tucking the large, gentle hand between her breasts. Sighing heavily, she murmured, "I know, Sweetheart. I might not act like it sometimes, but I know."

They woke a little later than normal on Saturday, neither feeling particularly well rested even though they had slept through the night. Their normal level of playfulness was completely lacking, replaced with a slightly strained politeness that was quickly getting on both of their nerves.
This is going to take a while,
Ryan thought, trying to reassure herself.
We had a very tough time last night, and it’s going to take time to heal, just like any injury
.

Even though she understood it, the dark woman was anxious to have the discomfort pass. Acknowledging that she had no earthly idea how to speed up the process, she felt a stab of hurt when she heard the shower running—Jamie obviously planned on showering alone.
She always showers with me
, she thought glumly.
I guess she can’t even tolerate being naked together
.

Rather than pining away for the closeness she craved, Ryan went upstairs to get breakfast started. Conor was still at the dining room table, idly perusing the
Chronicle
while he finished his coffee. "Hey, how’s it going?" he asked carefully when his disheveled sister entered the room.

" ‘Kay," she mumbled, heading for the kitchen to see if there was any more coffee. "What’s up?"

"I’m going over to Niall’s," he offered. "We’re gonna start taking his roof off. You guys wanna come?"

"Mmm…not sure," she replied, sitting down opposite him, a large mug held in both of her hands to warm them. "Good day for it," she observed, the late summer fog providing a cool backdrop for the work.

Seeing that he wasn’t going to get much response from his sister, Conor got up and started to clear his dishes. "I’ll do that," Ryan offered. "I’m gonna cook when Jamie comes up."

Hesitantly, he returned his plate to the table, deciding to press the issue. Walking over to stand in front of her, he squatted down so they were at eye level. The searching intensity of his gaze made her feel uncomfortable, and her eyes shifted quickly, unwilling to focus on his. "Is everything okay between you and Jamie?" he asked.

She nodded quickly, wishing he would give her some space. "Yeah. It will be," she said confidently, reminding herself that the resolution would not be quick. "We just need a little time."

Standing tall, he ruffled her hair, bending to place a soft kiss on the top of her head. "Take care of yourself, Sis," he said. "You look like you’re really hurting."

Patting the large hand that rested on her shoulder, Ryan assured him, "We’ll be fine, Con. Thanks for caring."

"See you later," he said, heading for the front door. "Give Jamie a kiss for me."

As soon as the door closed, Jamie appeared, showered and dressed for the day. She'd been miffed that Ryan was missing by the time she got the shower ready, but she assumed that her partner just needed some space.

"You just missed Conor," Ryan said when Jamie came into the dining room.

"I missed Conor on purpose," the smaller woman said, taking the seat he had vacated. "I’m embarrassed to face him after my little display last night." She shivered involuntarily as she recalled her high-decibel outburst. "I assume he thinks I was a jerk." She knew that Conor cared for her, as did all of the O’Flaherty men, but she also knew that their allegiance would always remain with their sister.

Cocking her head in puzzlement, Ryan said, "I have no idea what he thinks, but I assume he thinks we had a fight. I’ve driven him to scream at me many times, so it’s just as likely that he thinks I was being a jerk to you."

Now Jamie was puzzled. "What did he say last night? Didn’t you tell him what was going on?"

"No, of course not," Ryan said immediately, shocked that Jamie would even ask such a question.

"But you tell him everything," Jamie gaped.

"No, I don’t," Ryan demurred. "To explain what had happened, I would have had to tell him about your dad. I couldn’t do that," she added, looking helpless.

As she blinked slowly, it dawned on Jamie that Ryan had not been able to seek her family’s support and that she had dealt with the upsetting events all on her own. "You could have told him about our fight," she suggested. "That would have been okay, wouldn’t it?"

Ryan’s rapidly shaking head was a clear reply. "No, I couldn’t," she insisted. "I will never tell my family about the problems we have, Jamie. They love us both, and it’s unfair to try to get them to take sides."

Suddenly feeling very cruel, Jamie said, "It must have been hard to not be able to share with him."

"Yeah. It was. But this is
our
life, Jamie. We have to work things out between ourselves."

Leaning back in her chair, Jamie scrubbed at her face with clenched fists, rubbing her still-irritated eyes. "Thanks for keeping this between us," she said. "It would be hard to feel like they were mad at me too." She stretched a little in her chair, trying to get the stiffness out. "I feel like I’ve been pummeled all night long. My body hurts all over."

"Mine too," Ryan admitted. "I think I’d feel better if I used my muscles a little, kinda got the blood flowing."

Laughing gently, Jamie replied, "I’d like to spend the day soaking in a hot tub and writing in my journal."

That sounded like the seventh circle of hell to Ryan, and her face reflected her opinion. "Uh…okay…I guess we could do that."

Cocking her head, Jamie asked, "What do you want to do today?"

Feeling very much in need of an infusion of family, Ryan proposed, "Um…the fellas are going to Niall’s to take his roof off. I’d like to help…" She trailed off weakly, seeing the look on her partner’s face.

Pasting on a smile, Jamie proposed, "Let’s each do what will make us feel better, okay? You go play with the boys, and I’ll spend the day at a spa. I’ll take my journal and process some of the stuff that’s going on in my head."

"You sure?" Ryan asked, already getting to her feet.

"Positive," Jamie replied, seeing the relief on her partner’s face. "Just promise me that you won’t fall off that roof."

"I won’t," Ryan vowed, deciding not to mention that she would likely be at the top of the structure, since she was the lightest member of the crew. "I’ll stop for coffee and a bagel on the way over, okay? You don’t mind making yourself breakfast, do you?" Her face was creased into the first smile of the day, and Jamie realized how much it meant to her lover to be surrounded by her family.

"Of course not. You get going. And have fun today, okay? I’ll miss you."

"I’ll miss you too. Have fun being pampered."

As the dark woman scampered down the stairs, Jamie mused that they were both going to be pampered, just in very different ways.

When Ryan and Conor arrived home that night, Jamie had to spend a moment trying to determine which O’Flaherty belonged to her. Both siblings were covered with a layer of grime so thick that it looked like it would have to be chiseled off. They both wore bandanas tied around their heads, ostensibly to keep the grime out of their hair, but also effectively disguising their identities since it was impossible to see who had the longer hair. Both siblings wore heavy denim work shirts, nearly hiding Ryan’s most identifiable asset. Luckily, her full breasts poked out just enough to provide the means to I.D. her, and Jamie approached her gingerly, not wanting to touch the crud that covered her. "What did they do? Drag you over the roof until the shingles disintegrated?"

"No," Ryan laughed, "but it felt that way. 30 years of San Francisco dirt was infused into those shingles, and I think about half of it is on us. I almost called a cab so I didn’t get my car dirty."

"You get downstairs and get in the tub," Jamie ordered. "And don’t you dare take those clothes down with you. You strip right here."

Both O’Flahertys gave her guilty looks as they started to peel out of their clothes. The smaller woman blinked in surprise, but Conor assured her, "I’ve seen Ryan in her undies hundreds of times. No biggie."

"Well I haven’t seen you in yours!" Jamie cried, scampering down the stairs to the laughter of the siblings.

"Conor! Ryan! Dinner’s ready!" A few minutes after the call, Conor came slowly down the stairs, his body feeling the stress of balancing on the peaked roof for the better part of a day. When Jamie heard no activity from the basement she went down to fetch her partner.

Poking her head into the bath, she found her sound asleep in a tub full of murky water.
Thank God she’s got such long legs! She would have drowned if her body could have sunk down low enough!

It started like all of the others, and even in her dream Ryan groaned and cried, "Not again!" But even though she fought it, the old nightmare began to play out and she was drawn into the scene, just as she had been so many times before.

She parked her motorcycle and turned slightly to make eye contact with her passenger, puzzled to find Jamie smiling back at her.
Jamie?

The smaller woman swung her leg over the bike, lightly holding on to Ryan’s shoulder for stability. She stood there patiently while Ryan got the bike secured, but when the taller woman turned back to say something she was hit by a jolt of raw fear when she saw the panicked look in the green eyes. Whirling around, she saw him, her mind struggling with the image of a lone man coming for them.
That’s weird. It’s always a group
, her dream observer commented.
And it’s always young guys.

As their assailant approached, Ryan saw the length of pipe in his hand and her eyes fluttered closed as she braced herself for what she knew was going to be a blast of gut-wrenching pain. She waited for the first blow, which always broke two ribs on her left side, her entire body tensed with anticipation. But the blow didn’t come--and she cracked opened her eyes to find a scene more painful than the original attack had been.

Jamie was now standing next to her assailant—who removed the stocking cap from his face to reveal Jim Evans’ malevolent visage. The look on Jamie’s face was cold and remote as she spat, "It’s not safe to be with you." Then she turned and left with him, as Ryan crumpled to her knees, the pain greater than it had ever been when the pipe broke her body, piece by piece. She collapsed onto the ground, and curled into a fetal position, crying piteously as her heart broke.

The sound of her own tears woke her, and she fought to escape the dream, finally realizing that she was in her bed, and that Jamie was right beside her. They had drifted apart during the night, and that allowed her to slide out of bed unnoticed. She stumbled over to the loveseat and sank into the cushions, leaning her head back to catch her breath.

She glanced at her watch and saw that it was only four a.m., far too early to get up. Her heart slowly resumed its normal beat, and she grew chilled, the perspiration that covered her body turning ice cold.

Going to the linen closet, she retrieved a blanket and wrapped it around her body. Then she sat with her back against one of the arms of the loveseat, her knees drawn up until they nearly reached her chin, and tried to stop the grim parade of images that flashed before her eyes.

Ryan said nothing of her nightmare to Jamie, not wanting her partner to know how devastated she had been by her cutting words. They tried to get back into their normal Sunday routine, but it felt forced and uncomfortable. Ryan was stiff from the previous day’s work, and exhausted from lack of sleep, so they hung around the house reading and napping until late afternoon when they went to pick up Caitlin for the evening. The baby was ecstatic to see them, but when she kept looking at the door with a curious smile, Ryan finally realized what the baby was seeking. "I think she’s looking for your mom, Jamie," she said with a winsome smile. "She thinks she’s part of the package now."

"I wish she was here," Jamie mused. "I called her yesterday when you were out."

"How’s she doing?" Ryan asked.

"Ehh…I don’t think it’s going very well, to tell you the truth. Julia’s really unhappy to be moving, and Steph claims the treatment facility is run by sadists. Mom is afraid that Steph will break out if there’s any possible way."

"Ooohh, I don’t envy her. She’s really put herself out there for her cousins. I admire that," Ryan said. "So what did she say about what happened here?"

"It’s pretty fucked up, Babe. She knew about the current girlfriend. One of the partner’s wives told her at the New Year’s party last year. Guess that explains why she got so blind drunk." Jamie thought of that horrible night, still able to recall the deep sense of longing that had made her want to ditch Jack and spend the evening with the long, lean beauty in the black leather pants.

"Does your father know that she knows?"

"That’s the fucked up part," the blonde revealed. "It’s an open secret between them—both of them acting like everything’s okay. I think she’s worried about what it’s going to do to their marriage to have the secret revealed."

"Your mom deserves better," Ryan mused, thinking that the chances of the Evans’ marriage surviving this storm were small indeed.

"Yeah, she does," Jamie agreed fondly, happy that she and her mother were slowly building their relationship into something that was solid and secure.