I Found My Heart In San Francisco: Karma Part 7

WHEN THE ALARM went off at 5 a.m., two groggy women struggled to their feet. "You don't have to get up yet, honey," Ryan yawned.

"Yeah, I do," Jamie mumbled. "I'm gonna try to do the same thing with my team that you're doing with yours. Today I'm going to play a round with the only other senior. I thought I might be able to work on her a little to see if we can try to be leaders."

"Wow, that's kinda cool," Ryan said. "What's her name?"

"Juliet. She's the one who wants to try to make it on the pro tour."

"Oh, yeah, you've mentioned her. Is she nice?"

"From what I know of her, she is. Yesterday was the first time we've really spoken," Jamie admitted. "I should have a better feel for her after today."

"Wanna shower together?" Ryan asked. "If we've got to get up this early, we might as well have a little something to look forward to."

"Sounds like a plan," Jamie agreed, "but you keep those little Irish hands to yourself, or we'll never make it."

"I will if you will," the dark woman promised. "You're usually the naughty one."

"My secret is out." Jamie wrapped her arms around her naked lover and gave her a very friendly hug. "I'll save my naughty thoughts for tonight, Hot Stuff."

Later that morning, Ryan walked through the deserted halls of the athletic department offices, and found Coach Placer just as he was opening his door. "Well, well, to what do I owe the honor?" he asked happily when he caught sight of her.

She yawned cavernously, then apologized. "Sorry about that. I've been getting up extra early to study for a math compet.i.tion." She smiled and said, "I've been staring at formulas since six."

He shook his head and patted her on the back, guiding her into the office. "n.o.body can say you're not a hard worker, Ryan. It's women like you that make this job so rewarding."

"Thanks," she beamed. "Given how much I respect you, that really means a lot." She sat down in the chair in front of his desk and waited for him to take his seat. "I've got some questions, and I think you're the only person who might have the answers," she informed him.

"Sure, Ryan. Tell me what's on your mind."

"It's the volleyball tryouts," she explained. "I'm betting that you know more than you've told me about them. I'm gonna guess that you even have a pretty good idea of what my chances are of actually making the team," she said with a raised eyebrow.

"Why would you think that?" he asked.

"I just think that coaches are a pretty tight lot. I bet you've heard some rumors, or have some idea of what the outcome might be, but you don't want to tell me."

"Hmm, now why would I do that?" he asked with a sly smile.

"Probably because you wanted me to enjoy the thrill of being asked, and you think I might enjoy just going out there for the experience."

"I see," he said somberly. "Well, let's say you're correct. Would my a.s.sumptions have been incorrect?"

"In my case, yes. I'd have to defer a lot of my plans if I go, not the least of which is graduating this year. I'm really only interested in attending if I have a good shot at making the team."

"What do you know about the team, Ryan?"

"I know that most of the players have been together for years," she said. "And I don't know how many players they can carry, but I can only imagine that not many slots are open. I think they invite a lot of college players to keep good relations with the college coaches, and reward people for having a good season. But my guess is that they've identified who they want while the player is still in high school. If they progress like they expect them to, they pull them onto the team after they graduate and have really proven themselves for four years."

"How'd you get so savvy?" he asked with a smile.

"I was one of those people that the soccer federation had hand picked while I was in high school. That's how it seemed to work."

"You're just about dead on correct," he admitted. "I think they might take three women from this tryout."

"How many were invited?"

"25," he said rather gravely. "And I can also tell you that their biggest need is at middle blocker."

"What do you think Jordan's chances are?"

"I think they're good, but she's gonna have to put on a show when she gets to Colorado. That freshman from Stanford gets all the press - so much so that they'll probably have to take her, even though I think she'll be much better when she grows into her body a little. Jordan is a very talented player, and she's been to every major training camp that's been offered. A lot of people on the national level know her, and she's proven herself at the international level too. She played in Europe for six weeks last summer and did very well."

"What's the chance of both of us making it?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"You're the mathematician, Ryan, but I'd say you have a better chance of being struck by lightning simultaneously," he said sadly. "And I'm not saying that I think you aren't both talented enough. But they're not going to take three outside hitters - no matter how good you all are. Besides, it would look funny to add two women from the same school, especially when we didn't even make the NCAA's."

"So you don't think they're only looking at how well we perform at the tryout?"

"No. Like everything else, politics plays a big part. You haven't paid your dues, Ryan. I was actually amazed that you were even invited - but your numbers were just too good to pa.s.s up."

"So you don't think there's any way I could impress them enough to add me to the roster?"

"Let me say this, if they add you, they'll probably subtract Jordan," he said with finality. "I think they'll take the Stanford freshman, even if she doesn't play that well. That leaves one slot - max - for another outside hitter." He gave her a sober stare and added, "I think they have to take a middle blocker, and there's a very good setter from Hawaii that they're very hot on. So, for either of you to have a chance you'd have to outplay the other."

She leaned back in her chair and said, "It was so pleasurable to play for you, Coach. I really wish it were still volleyball season." She shook her head and said, "It's so refreshing to talk to someone who'll give you the straight scoop."

"Things aren't working out so well in basketball, are they?" he asked gently.

"No. I don't get to play much, and the team is very divided. Practices aren't any fun, and I haven't been able to make many friends. It just makes me appreciate what we had this past season. And it makes me appreciate you too, Coach," she said fondly as she got up. "Well, maybe I'll come back as a fifth year player, if you'll have me."

"Have you? That's a laugh! The welcome mat would be so long it would go all the way to your house!"

Over dinner, Ryan asked, "So, how did your golf match go this morning?"

"Good, as far as golf is concerned," Jamie said. "But my goal was to get to know Juliet a little. That's obviously going to take more work."

"How come?"

"Well, we played 18 holes of golf, and all she said was, 'you're away' and 'nice shot'. She's obviously not into wasting a word."

"Did you try to talk to her?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah, but I stopped trying after she made it clear that she wasn't paying attention. I think this might be a very slow process. The good news is that I could learn a lot from her. She concentrates as fiercely as you do, honey, and she really knows how to think her way around a course. We decided to play again on Thursday morning." Jamie shrugged and added, "Whether or not we get to be friends, I think I can benefit from just hanging out and watching her play."

"You'll wear her down," Ryan predicted. "No one can resist that adorable face for long."

That night, as they snuggled in bed, Ryan said, "Oh, I talked to my favorite math professor, and she agreed to proctor the Putnam exam for me."

"That's great," the blonde answered sleepily. "Will you take it on Sunday, or what?"

"Kinda," Ryan said, knowing that Jamie would explode when she told her the truth. "Kinda Sat.u.r.day and uhm... kinda Sunday."

All vestiges of sleep now gone from her body, Jamie sat up and looked at her partner, one eyebrow arched dramatically.

"I have to take it on Sat.u.r.day, Jamie. It was hard enough to get the committee to allow me to take it at the end of the day."

"Explain," she wearily demanded.

Ryan rolled her shoulders and said, "I have to take it when I get back from Fresno."

"So you're going to play in a game in Fresno, ride a bus for three or four hours, and then take a six hour test?" Her expression gave Ryan the distinct impression that she didn't think this was a wonderful idea.

"That's the plan," she said, her mouth set in a grim line. "I don't have many options. It's either quit the team, or waste the months of preparation I've put into this."

"Ryan," Jamie with said as much patience as she could summon, "taking it under those conditions means that you've wasted your preparation anyway. You can't possibly do well at the end of a day like that!"

"Jamie, sometimes you do what you have to do. This is what I have to do."

"You've already made up your mind to refuse the tryout and stick with basketball, haven't you?"

Ryan was lying on her side, plastered up against her lover's body. Her arm was tucked tightly around her waist, and their heads shared the same pillow. When she spoke, her warm breath fluttered against Jamie's cheek. "Have I no secrets from you?" she chuckled deep in her chest.

"No, none at all. Spill it."

"I haven't made up my mind completely, but I'm leaning that way. How do you feel about it, babe?"

"Ryan, I've told you before that I want this to be your decision. You're the one that will have to do the work. I just want to make sure you're doing this for the right reason. Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Hon, if this was the soccer team, you couldn't hold me back. But it's not important enough to me to throw our lives into an uproar just for the chance."

Jamie nodded, understanding her partner's point. "Do you think Jordan will make it? It means so much to her."

"I think her chances are decent," Ryan said, "but not excellent. Coach told me some things that indicated that we'd never both make it, and she deserves it so much more than I do."

Jamie didn't think that was necessarily true, and her expression telegraphed her feelings.

"She does," Ryan insisted. "She's been working for this since she was twelve. For me, it would be a gift. For Jordan, well, for Jordan, it's the most important thing in her life right now."

Nodding slightly, Jamie acknowledged those facts. "I still think you'd be a great addition to the team, honey. You rule!"

"I appreciate the vote of confidence," Ryan smiled. She grandly gestured towards their room. "But I think I'll make this my kingdom - with you as my queen." She collapsed with laughter as Jamie dramatically made the gesture that signaled forced vomiting.

When Jamie woke the next morning, she rolled over to cuddle, her eyes opening when all she found was a cool mattress. "Ryan?" she asked, getting no reply. The bathroom door was open, so Jamie figured her partner was already downstairs. She got up and tugged on a robe against the chill, then made her way downstairs, calling Ryan's name again. She was met with silence, and stood in the kitchen for a moment, idly looking around for a note. Finding that she was parched, she opened the refrigerator and noticed that the orange juice container was missing. Okay... one missing lover, one missing juice bottle. They both have to be around here somewhere. As her eyes scanned the kitchen for clues, she noted that the key was dangling from the deadbolt on the door to the yard. Ahhah! Smiling, she poked her head out the door to see Ryan sitting on the bench that rested under the arbor.

Wearing sweats, her hair mussed from sleep, Ryan was staring blankly across the yard, her face etched in pain. "Honey?" Jamie said softly, not wanting to startle her. Ryan didn't answer, and Jamie realized she was deep in some form of contemplative state, and likely didn't want to be disturbed. The smaller woman went upstairs and took her shower, mildly concerned for her lover. Once dressed, Jamie went back downstairs, deciding to leave a note for Ryan rather than break her mood. But Ryan was just walking back into the house as Jamie entered the kitchen. To her surprise, Ryan's eyes were red rimmed and swollen, and the larger woman wiped at them with the sleeve of her shirt. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Jamie asked solicitously, moving to stand next to her.

"Something hit me this morning," Ryan sniffed. "I was lying in bed, sound asleep, and it was like a hand reached out and grabbed my heart, giving it a good shake. I woke up totally filled with dread, and I realized that this was the anniversary of my mother's death." Shaking her head she closed her eyes tightly and muttered, "How could I be too busy to remember something like that?"

"Honey, you did remember," the smaller woman said. "It must have been in the back of your mind for it to come to you like that."

"But I didn't think about it early enough," she insisted. "I normally commemorate it. Last year I had a Ma.s.s said for her at Newman Hall."

At Jamie's puzzled look, Ryan said, "That's the Catholic student center on campus."

"Oh, I see. You have to plan something like that ahead of time, huh?"

"Yes," Ryan said. "I've just been so d.a.m.ned busy lately." A few more tears slid down her cheeks, and she said, "How can I be too busy to remember my mother?"

Giving her a stern look, Jamie said, "You're being silly, Ryan. You remember your mother every day. I know you do!"

Giving her partner a sheepish look in return, Ryan nodded. "I do, but this is different. Being remembered at Ma.s.s would mean a lot to her. I know it would, Jamie."

"Ryan, honey, it wouldn't matter to your mother to have the priest remember her. What would mean something to her is to have you remember her at Ma.s.s. I'll meet you after your last morning cla.s.s, and we'll go together. I'll call and make sure they have a lunchtime service."

The tall woman threw her arms around her partner and held her tightly. "Thanks for loving me," she whispered. "I'll call you later this morning."

When Jamie arrived at Tilden she started to warm up, surprised that she was the first one there. After just a few minutes, Scott showed up, and after chatting for a moment she said, "Juliet and I were speaking yesterday, and we decided it might be nice to play 18 on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Would you have any problem with our shortening our usual practice to get in some holes?"

"No, that's fine, Jamie. I certainly don't have to supervise you two. Feel free to do that any time you wish."

"Will do," she smiled, waving to the rest of the players as they arrived. "Shuttle bus must have been late again," she commented, feeling only slightly guilty for being able to drive herself to practice.

She worked for the required two hours, and as she was finishing up, an idea hit her and she sought Scott out again. "How would you feel if I could get more players to agree to play a round twice a week. I know that almost everyone plays several times during the week, but they all just saunter over here when they can spare four hours. I was thinking that it might help team spirit if we could make it a little more organized."

"That would be great," he agreed. "If you can get a decent sized group, I could have Evan go with you to provide a little playing lesson."

"I'm gonna give it a whirl," Jamie decided. She spent the next twenty minutes proposing her idea to every other player, and they all decided to bring their registration materials for spring semester on Friday so they could try to work together to arrange their schedules to accommodate the plan. This is going pretty darned well, she decided, pleased with her progress.

Picking Ryan up after her last morning cla.s.s, they arrived at Ma.s.s just a few minutes late. Ryan usually liked to sit near the front, but this time she took the last pew, staying right by the back door.

The priest flew through the noon ma.s.s, since most of the very small crowd consisted of students on their lunch hour. At one point, the priest asked the congregants to remember the souls of the dead, then mentioned the person that the Ma.s.s was being said for. Ryan was already kneeling; but after the priest mentioned the stranger's name, her head dropped even lower, and her shoulders began to shake noticeably. Jamie knelt down next to her, wrapped her arm around Ryan's waist, and held on tight. It quickly became obvious that Ryan was truly overcome with emotion, so Jamie tugged on her sleeve until she followed her outside. Grasping Ryan's hand, she led her to the small outdoor patio on the side of the church.

They sat together on a small bench, and Ryan immediately dropped her head onto Jamie's chest and cried so hard that Jamie feared she would be sick. She had seen Ryan cry on many, many occasions, but she had never witnessed an outpouring of emotion like this. As luck would have it, she was wearing a coppery brown cotton blouse with wheat colored jeans, and after 5 minutes of inconsolable crying, there were large dark streaks from her collarbone down past her breast. But her attire was the last thing on Jamie's mind at the moment. She was solely focused on her disconsolate lover and the pathetic cries that were coming from her heaving chest.

As the sobs quieted down a bit, Ryan lifted her head and sucked in a few very shaky breaths. She had no tissues, and Jamie's were long since exhausted, so Ryan was forced to pull her T-shirt up to wipe her eyes.

Jamie had been patting or rubbing some part of her since they sat down, and as she wrapped her arm even tighter around her partner, she simply said, "Tell me, baby."

A few more deep breaths preceded her first words. "I realized today why I have so willingly agreed to hold off having children," she said softly. "I've been afraid to have a baby because I couldn't bear to cause my child this kind of pain. I don't think I can ever explain it fully, Jamie. It just feels like the pain is lodged in my bones. It's like it's an intrinsic part of me."

She leaned her head back and sucked in another breath before she said, "My mother probably had cancer when she gave birth to me, and as happy as I am to have been born, I know she wouldn't have willingly gotten pregnant if she had known she was ill. I'm... I'm terrified to have a baby, Jamie. What if the same thing happened to me?" Her face was stark white, and her whole body was shaking noticeably.

"Oh, honey, I know you worry, but there's every indication that you're perfectly healthy. Alison examined your b.r.e.a.s.t.s just a short while ago, and she rea.s.sured you that your risk of developing cancer isn't significantly elevated because of your mother's illness."

"I know that logically," Ryan said tiredly. "This isn't about logic. This is pure fear, Jamie. It makes me sick to my stomach to even think about having a child and being taken from him or her." She shivered again and in a shaky voice said, "I don't have the kind of strength that my mother had. I will never have the kind of strength that she had." Ryan's eyes were tightly closed. "She was the bravest person I ever met, Jamie. She was a small woman, but she had enough courage for an army. And not just because of the way she bore the intense pain she was in. The bravest thing she did was to keep her fear from us. When we were with her, she was always upbeat and optimistic. How hard must that have been! How could she avoid grabbing us and holding on with every ounce of strength she had, while she cursed the fates that were taking her from us? I'll never understand how she was so brave, but if I had half of her courage, I'd be happy."

Ryan dropped her head again, and struggled to hold the tears at bay. "Her birthday was not long before she died. We had all of the furniture moved out of the living room to accommodate her hospital bed. There were tubes and needles and IV's and G.o.d knows what else stuck in every part of her body. She could not have weighed 80 pounds, but I still remember all of us sitting on that bed with her on her birthday. She sang songs with us, and even managed to eat some cake. After everybody else went to bed, she held me in those bony arms and sang that sweet lullaby to me in her angelic voice. As much pain as she had to be in - and all she cared about was that I felt loved and comforted. I slept with her on that tiny bed most of her last week. It must have been terribly painful for her to have me plastered all over her, but she seemed to need it as much as I did. I was in her arms when she died..." Ryan rested her elbows on her knees, dropped her head into her hands and sobbed violently. "G.o.d, I miss her," she choked out as Jamie rubbed her back as soothingly as possible.

"I know how much you miss her," Jamie murmured. "And I know how it frightens you to think about repeating what happened to her. But what I've heard from you about your mom makes me confident that she wouldn't want you to let your fears get in the way of living your life, Ryan." Jamie reached up and grasped Ryan by the shoulders, holding her until the blue eyes rotated to meet her. "You're a very brave woman, too, even though you have your doubts sometimes. You are, sweetheart. You're brave enough to face your fears, and you're brave enough to live your life. Some day we will leave our children alone, but I'm supremely confident that our kids are going to be in their seventies or eighties by that time. We're going to live to be very, very old women, Ryan. You and me, together."