I Found My Heart in San Francisco Book Eighteen: Renewal

Susan X Meagher

Two weeks.

Fourteen days.

And in this ridiculously short amount of time she was supposed to have become "comfortable" with her new-found wealth.

Ryan knew that Jamie was doing her best to understand how diﬃcult this was for her, but it was beyond her ken. It was like trying to tell an orphan what it was like to have a very large, very loving family: one could easily understand the words, but have little true understanding and no real grasp of how it felt. It wasn't at all the same as really living it and knowing it.

Ryan had told no one, nor had Jamie. Not even Catherine. It wasn't that Ryan was ashamed or embarrassed. She merely wanted to get over the shock, but she was stuck. She guessed part of her problem was not having anyone to discuss it with, at least not anyone who knew what it was like not to have money.

She felt as though she had entered a realm where she didn't speak the language. And sadly, Jamie was equally as clueless when it came to being in Ryan's native realm. There was a massive gulf between the mindsets of people who never had to consider the cost of anything and those who carefully planned and saved for even relatively small purchases.

Ryan was not under the illusion that she had ever been poor. She knew that was yet another realm, a third place where she would be just as confused as she was in her present situation. But she had been happily ensconced in the lower section of the middle class, and being thrust into the lower section of the upper class without her permission was not only causing turmoil, it was actually giving her nightmares.

Not for the ﬁrst time in her life with Jamie, Ryan was in the awkward position of seeking solace for something she considered upsetting, even tumultuous, which nearly every other person on earth would consider an unadulterated joy.

It wasn't that Ryan wanted sympathy. There was nothing intrinsically bad about having money. When she was young, she and Rory had an on-going fantasy where they dreamt about scraping together a dollar to buy a lottery ticket. They were fairly certain they would win, even though even at such a tender age Ryan already had a decent understanding of the laws of probability. But her childish mind allowed her to ignore the hard reality and dream of the toys she and Rory would buy once they got their hands on the dough.

In the preceding two weeks she had spent a lot of time considering her relationship with money, and she had to admit that she had never in her adult life felt she needed more than she had. Being rich had never been a goal of hers, and she was fairly certain it never would have been. She wasn't completely sure why this was so, but she suspected it had to do with the fact that she didn't like to stick out from her family any more than she already did. Being gifted in math and science had always created a small wedge between her and everyone else on both sides of her family. She loved math like it was an entity she could put her arms around, but no one in her life understood that. Now she was going to have to have yet another thing that would make her stand out from the people she most wanted to ﬁt in with.

Ryan had ﬂirted with the idea of creating a big scam in which she'd get everyone in the family to contribute a few bucks to the lottery. Then she'd devise a fake ticket that would miraculously win. Given the lads' lack of computer savvy and non-inquisitive natures, she was certain she could pull it oﬀ without breaking a sweat. But she knew that was taking the easy way out. It wouldn't bother her much to lie to her cousins, but she didn't think she could do it to her father. Besides, he knew her so well he'd likely be able to tell that she was hiding something.

Another idea was to send a check for the whole amount to her aunt Moira and tell her to spend most of it on her grandparents and keep the change. But she knew Moira would have as diﬃcult a time doing that as she would, and it wasn't fair to burden her with that task.

Sister Mary Magdalene would accept every dime Ryan had to help the high school, and she knew Father Pender would not only take it, he wouldn't ask where she'd gotten it. But that also seemed like taking the easy road, something she rarely did.

Besides, even if she got rid of the money that was solely in her name, she still had Jamie's money to contend with, and that was a considerably greater sum. She had been fairly successful in convincing herself that that money was not hers, but she knew the day was coming when she couldn't continue that delusion.

So, this "starter" fortune was probably good for her, as much as she hated to acknowledge that. It was an awful lot of money, but it was nothing compared to the money Jamie would one day have. So instead of foisting it onto a third party, she had decided to learn how to live with it.

That left her trying to ﬁnd someone she could talk to who would understand why she was feeling so ambivalent. The person most in her position was Jim Evans, but she was fairly certain he would have been happy to have every dollar Catherine had ever earned or inherited. Granted, he hadn't demanded anything from their divorce, but Ryan was fairly sure that was primarily because he had his own money by then.

No, there was only one person she knew who understood her background, her need to ﬁt in with her family, and, even though she wasn't wealthy yet, she could see the Promised Land in the distance. Sarah Andrews was the only person she knew who might have some empathy with her. That was the thing that was so hard to ﬁnd. She didn't want sympathy; only a fool would think people should feel sorry for her for having too much money. What she wanted was empathy, someone who understood the diﬃculties that having money could create.

The problem was that she was always hesitant to call Sara. She had it straight in her mind why there was still a charge between them. That part didn't worry her at all. After their disastrous rapprochement the previous fall, Ryan had done a lot of thinking and she was completely conﬁdent that things had worked out perfectly. Her infatuation with Sara was something that belonged to her youth. Her love for Jamie was mature, considered, and permanent. She was equally certain that Sara was happy with Ally. But it was impossible to long for someone like she had pined away for Sara and not feel awkward when you were in her presence. There was just too much water under the bridge.

Nonetheless, Ryan had stated on many occasions that she wanted to have an ongoing relationship with both Sara and Ally and she knew that she was the one who had to make the ﬁrst move with both of them. But how to get time alone to talk on the phone?

They'd been at the O'Flaherty house for ten days now, and it was hard to get any privacy. Both Conor and Kevin had unpredictable schedules, and her father and her aunt showed up every morning to cook breakfast for anyone who wanted it. It also wasn't odd for one of her aunts to drop by for no particular reason. Since no one called before they showed up, and having the door locked was a sign of crass incivility, Ryan felt a bit like she had when she was ﬁrst coming out. She'd craved some privacy to read a book she'd picked up or carefully scan the local gay and lesbian paper, but someone could walk in at any minute.

She began to understand a little better why Jamie had seemed so reluctant to stay at the O'Flaherty family home once they'd graduated from college. She wouldn't have thought she'd ever see things that way, but she was beginning to.

She knew Jamie wouldn't mind her being gone for a while; in fact, she would probably welcome it. Things had been vaguely tense between them, with Jamie disappointed in Ryan's reaction to her wealth and Ryan disappointed in Jamie's lack of understanding. They'd both been trying, but they weren't clicking.

* * *

Ryan was in her room, playing around on her computer, while Jamie was upstairs reading one of her many new books. It was a typical early June day in San Francisco. Cold and foggy, with just enough of a mist to leave tiny water droplets on your clothing but not penetrate. The sun was probably shining brightly in the South Bay, but they were a long way from the South Bay.

Ryan put on her running shoes and by the time she got to the top of the stairs, Duﬀy was standing there, waving his tail excitedly. "Yes, you guessed correctly. We're going for a run." She ran her hand through his curly hair while he licked her wrist and forearm as though she were made out of Kibble.

Running the few stairs from the landing into the living room, Ryan stood in front of the chair where Jamie was sitting. "I'm gonna take Duﬀ out for a run. Cool?"

Jamie stretched, yawned noisily, and looked her partner up and down. "I'm gonna turn into stone if I don't get up and move around. Wait for me to put some shoes on?"

Ryan's smile faded and the tiny line between her eyebrows that showed concern or puzzlement formed. "I might make a stop." Popping up onto her toes a couple of times, she added, "I've got some things to work out."

Jamie settled back into her chair and spent another few moments looking carefully at Ryan's face. "That's ﬁne. Are you sure you want to take Duﬀy? I could take him over to the park if you want to be alone."

Now Ryan's smile was wide and conﬁdent. "I'd like to take him. But if you want company…"

"No, I'm good." She put her legs up over the arm of the chair and nestled down into the worn seat. "I don't really care if I turn to stone."

Ryan leaned over and kissed her, feeling Jamie's arms encircle her neck and hold her down for a few seconds. Reading the signal, she said, "We should take a shower together when I get back. Would you like that?"

"Sure would," Jamie purred, showing her most seductive smile. "Hurry back."

With a slight frown, Ryan said, "I can't promise that. I'm going to try to get out of this funk. That might take a while."

Jamie cupped her butt, patting it a couple of time. "Stay out as long as you need. Just come back horny."

Ryan turned, nearly tripping over Duﬀy who was anxiously waiting right behind her. "Most women wouldn't send their girlfriends oﬀ with that instruction."

"Too bad for them. My girlfriend is a woman of supreme integrity."

"And of supreme grouchiness."

"Nah. You've been much, much worse." Jamie blew a kiss, which Ryan acted like she had to jump to ﬁeld.

"Got it." She kissed her right hand and bowled the kiss back. "Love you."

"Ditto. Take your time, but call if you're not going to be home for dinner."

"Will do." She followed Duﬀy to the front door, aﬃxed his collar, and they took oﬀ, bounding down the narrow stairs that led to the street. Duﬀy pranced to his right and then his left, looking for an indication from his master. When Ryan took her cell phone out of the pocket of her nylon vest, he sat down, mildly disappointed, watching her every move.

She speed dialed a number, then waited for an answer for few rings.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Sara. It's-"

"Siobhán. How are you?"

Ryan both loved and hated that Sara's soprano voice, paired with using her given name, served to give her a powerful sense memory of her mother. It was like a kick in the teeth every time it happened, but she was slightly better prepared this time. She took in a breath and tried to sound casual. "I'm okay."

Concern colored Sara's voice. "Just okay? That's not like you."

"Busted. To be honest, I'm not good. I need to talk to someone, and you're the person I think would best understand what I'm going through. Do you have any free time?"

"I'll always make time for you. When's good?"

"Now." Ryan laughed at herself. "I think I'm supposed to say 'whenever is convenient for you' or something like that, but I've got some stuﬀ I've-"

"Quit wasting time explaining. I'm at the oﬃce but I can leave right now and meet you anywhere you want."

"Oh damn. It's Friday, isn't it. I forgot."

"Boy," Sara said, laughing, "you really are taking the summer oﬀ."

"I don't want to screw up your day. We can do this later."

"No, it's ﬁne. I've been here since seven, and I'm getting glassy-eyed. Ally's coming to my house at six, so I'm free until then. Where do you want to meet?"

"That's a good question. I have Duﬀy with me and we both need some exercise."

"Fine. You two go for a run to the Marina. That'll tire you both out. Come to my apartment and I'll have water for you both. You can have yours in a glass."

Ryan's brain was bombarded with images of being with Sara in Berkeley and having a near-fatal lapse in judgment when they kissed. She also recalled promising never to be alone with her again, or something to that eﬀect, but Jamie might have said that wasn't necessary, or something like that.

"Ryan?"

"Oh! Sorry. I was working out logistics."

"Wanna meet somewhere else?"

"I can't think of anywhere…"

"Your house?"

"No. Not good."

"My oﬃce?"

"No. I've got Duﬀy." She thought of the solution, then said, "Your place is ﬁne. Remind me of the address."

"Oh, right. You've never been there. I'm in the only four-story building on the corner of Prado and Scott. Do you know where that is?"

"I know Scott."

"Just head down Scott; you'll cross Prado. I'm just a couple of blocks from the Marina. Are you sure this is cool?"

"Very. I'll be there in…I don't know how long."

"I've run there from my parents' place, so I have a guess. See you soon."

"Right." Disappointing Duﬀy, Ryan ran back up the stairs.

Jamie looked up from her book. "Forget something?"

"Yeah." Her face was ﬂushed and she knew she had to get out what was on her mind quickly. "I want to talk to Sara, and the only place we can meet is her apartment. Is that okay?"

Jamie got up and stood right in front of her, rubbing Duﬀy's head with one hand while the other arm went around Ryan. "Of course it's all right. Do what you need to do."

Ryan looked down into eyes so ﬁlled with sympathy and trust that she almost choked up. "Thank you." She kissed Jamie gently then started for the door again, thinking that even though her partner was too polite to say it, she bet Jamie now hoped she wasn't too horny when she came home.

* * *

It wasn't that great a distance to the Marina, but it was up and down some thigh-cramping hills, just the kind of workout that helped Ryan center herself. She was much less edgy when she rang the bell and heard Sara's voice call out through the intercom, "Come on up."

Duﬀy had been lagging for the last quarter mile, but he gamely shot up the stairs, not having any idea where he was headed. Ryan let his leash drop and by the time she got to the apartment, Duﬀy was licking Sara's face, his big paws resting on her waist.

Sara looked fantastic, so good that Ryan was surprised she'd come from work. Sara had always had great arms, and the sleeveless sweater she wore showed them in all their glory. She looked more like a designer or a fashion magazine editor than a lawyer, and Ryan had to focus to distract herself from staring. She decided to tend to Duﬀy, whom she'd let misbehave for too long. "You don't have to let him do that, you know. I can control him."

"I like him." She tilted her face and Duﬀy attacked her ear, making her squeal, "I don't like him that much!"

"Duﬀ! Down!" the dog's four paws hit the ground, but he whimpered at the loss of his best friend in the whole world-whom he'd met two or three times.

Ryan approached the door and hesitated, unsure how to greet Sara. They moved together and exchanged tentative kisses on the cheek, with Ryan breaking the slight tension by saying, "You smell like dog."

Sara gave her a playful push into the apartment. "Come on in and have a drink." Duﬀydashed into the place, poking his nose into the bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen before he dove for the cereal bowl Sara had ﬁlled with water and placed on the ﬂoor. "Your dog's a lot like you," Sara said, smiling at Ryan. "No nonsense."

"True." Ryan took the glass Sara handed her and gulped down the cool water. She handed it back. "More, please."

"That's the biggest glass I have, but I was certain it wouldn't be big enough."

After two more reﬁlls, Ryan put the glass on the counter and said, "Can I have a tour?"

"Sure. It won't take long. This is the kitchen."

"Got it. Nice." they went into the living room. "Nice again. Your good taste is showing. It doesn't look like your mom's house at all." She slapped her hand over her mouth. "I didn't mean that like it sounded."

Sara smiled warmly. "I know how you meant it. My mom's stuck in the Eighties-lots of powder blue and rose. I wanted a more modern look."

"It's really nice."

"It's all from the usual design stores people our age shop at. I don't have the time or the inclination to really do my own decorating; I ﬁgure the gay guys at the big chains can do that for me."

"You've always had a good eye for color. If it weren't for you, I never would have ﬁgured out what colors look best on me."

Sara sat on a sleek brown leather chair that rocked when she leaned over to set her glass down on a small table. She winked and said, "If not for me, you would've worn sweats and T-shirts every minute you weren't wearing a uniform."

"True. I didn't know girls were supposed to have a style. I didn't know what a style was. My aunts were always trying to get me to wear things they liked, but you were my role model."

"That's a nice thing for you to say. I just spent more time looking at fashion magazines than you did."

Ryan was sitting on the edge of the sofa. "Any amount of time would have been more than I spent."

"You look like you're perching. What's wrong?"

"Can I stretch for a minute? I know they say it's not helpful, but I always feel better if I stretch after a run."

"Sure." She looked more carefully at Ryan's limp shirt. "I'll get you a dry shirt."

"I'm okay…" Ryan called as Sara left the room.

She was back in a moment, holding up a shirt that advertised a bar in North Carolina. "One of Ally's. She only keeps T-shirts and a toothbrush here."

Ryan took the proﬀered shirt and went into the bathroom. After changing, she did her stretching in the small room, just getting her hamstrings and calves loosened up. "Much better," she said as she went into the kitchen for another reﬁll of water. Duﬀy was right next to her, and he followed her into the living room, but as soon as Ryan sat down, he went over to Sara and ﬂopped down at her feet.

"Duﬀ isn't in great shape right now," Ryan explained. "He hasn't been running regularly and I think I stressed him too much today. I've got to ease up on him."

"Are you in the city now?"

"We have been." Ryan took a drink. "I'm not sure we'll stay. It's not perfect having Conor and Kevin there. It's more like a fraternity house now that Da's gone and women are allowed to stay over."

"Eww." Sara made a face. "That must be weird."

"It is. I don't know why, but I don't like knowing that Conor's in Da's room knocking boots with some stranger. It's really ridiculous of me, but it makes me grouchy." She shrugged and took another drink. "Of course, I've been so grouchy anyway that it's hard to tell what's due to what."

"So, tell me about this grouchiness. That's not like you."

"If you don't think I get grouchy, your memory is failing." Ryan smiled fondly at her.

"No, no, you do, but not for long. You tend to work things out."

"Right. But I've been having trouble with this one. Ready?"

"Sure. Hit me."

Once again Ryan perched on the edge of the sofa. "When Jamie was taking a business course, she and I had a stock picking game. We played it for fun, but we were both pretty competitive."

"You? No!" Sara feigned shock.

"Yeah. Hard to believe, but Jamie's almost as competitive as I am. Anyway, on the night I graduated she told me that she'd actually bought the stocks I picked. She bought her own portfolio, too, but she bought mine in my name." the look on Ryan's face was one of raw outrage.

"You look like you want to kick something. Why did that make you mad?"

"She didn't have my permission!"

"So? She's got money and she wanted to make the game real. It was probably easier for her to get into it with real money."

"Not for me!" Ryan's eyes were blazing. "I never, ever would have thrown money away like that. It's institutional betting! I'd feel more secure playing poker at a casino."

"Ryan, I'm not sure what's really going on. This doesn't sound like you. You seem really angry at Jamie for doing something pretty benign. She gave you a gift, right? Am I missing something?"

"I'm rich!" Ryan got to her feet, making Duﬀy jump up and start barking, at what, he did not know. "Shh," she said, patting him gently. "Sorry I woke you up. Good boy. Go lie down. Go on."

He didn't move until she sat down and stayed quiet. He went back to Sara, but he kept giving Ryan the ﬁsh eye for another minute before he put his head down and went back to sleep. Ryan purposely spoke in a calm tone. "Between Jamie and my father and my dog, I don't get to have a private thought."

"Okay," Sara said with ﬁnality, "how much money are we talking about? Billions?"

Ryan's head shot back a couple of inches. "No!"

"Then millions."

Now she just looked abashed. "No, not millions. Not even a million." She shook her head mournfully. "Listen to me; I even talk like a rich person. As if a few hundred thousand dollars isn't a huge deal."

"You were rich before, weren't you? You and Jamie share money, right?"

"Yeah, in a way. Jamie thinks we share, but I don't. I try to live like I always have."

"How can you do that?"

"It's not easy. I do most of the shopping, and I have to buy those French and Italian cheeses and cold cuts and olives. Nice bottles of wine…" She made a face.

"You don't like that stuﬀ?"

"Sure, it's delicious, but I wouldn't buy it for myself. I wouldn't order carry-out like we do, either. I could live on ﬁfty dollars a week."

Sara nodded, like she was starting to get the picture. "So you've had access to money, but you don't spend it like it's yours."

"Right. It's Jamie's and I spend it on her. I haven't bought a pair of shoes all year, mainly because I don't want to spend her money. I'm itching to get back to work so I can have my own money again."

"But I thought you were taking a year oﬀ."

"We are." Ryan hung her head, looking defeated. "I don't want to, but I promised."

"So you've got too much money and too much time oﬀ."

Annoyed, Ryan looked up and snapped, "I know I'm an idiot. This isn't the ﬁrst time in my life that I've complained about something that anyone else would kill for."

Sara got up and moved across the room, accompanied by a dog who looked like he was rolling his eyes in frustration. She sat on the sofa and put her hand on Ryan's shoulder. "I don't think you're an idiot. I know you. I can only guess how much you hate not being able to work."

"I do!" Ryan looked at her, eyes wide. "I know it's nuts, but I want to work!"

"Poor you." Sara patted her shoulder and Ryan fought the urge to seek solace in a hug. "Your father instilled the work ethic into you from the time you could talk. It must drive you mad to rely on Jamie for money."

"I don't rely on Jamie; I just don't buy the things I want. Eventually Jamie will notice that my shoes are falling apart and she'll buy me a hundred pairs." She said this as if she was expecting a beating. Finally she looked into Sara's dark brown eyes and asked, "Do you understand at all?"

"I do," Sara soothed. "I understand. I'd have a very hard time letting Ally support me."

"Even if she was rich?"

"Yeah, I think so. It's more about me than her. I like having my autonomy."

"Exactly!" Ryan showed her ﬁrst genuine smile of the afternoon. It was small and brief, but it was genuine. "I need to work. I need to earn my keep. And having Jamie hand me a ton of money is like her giving me money for doing nothing. I hate that!"

"Well, it's not for nothing. You picked the stocks. People do earn a living doing that."

"Yeah, I know, but it was supposed to be a game. She tricked me."

"Would you have played if you'd known?"

"Hell, no!"

"I rest my case. She wanted to play and she got more of a charge out of it by playing with real money. She must have seen that you were doing well and she wanted to capture the proﬁt. Rich people get rich by recognizing and taking advantage of opportunity, Ryan. It's in their genes." She grinned playfully.

"Yeah. Her ancestors got rich oﬀ immigrants. They were in coal. I wonder how many cases of black lung her money accounts for."

"You're getting a little dark, pal." Sara put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her. "You can't blame her for what her relatives did. Some of my dad's ancestors owned slaves."

"My ancestors were slaves," Ryan said, a sly grin forming. "Well, indentured servants."

Sara sat quietly for a few moments, then she said, "Do you want my opinion?"

"Yeah. That's why I came. Hit me."

"I think you're in danger of making this a wedge issue between you and Jamie. I can't imagine you want that, but listen to yourself."

"What?" Ryan's brow was furrowed and it was clear her hackles were up.

"Siobhán," Sara said, her voice soft and gentle. When Ryan's posture started to relax she continued, "Really listen to yourself. You make it sound like money is dirty, like it's something that'll harm you."

"I think it is," Ryan said, interrupting. "I honestly do."

"Money's not bad. People might use it badly but money is just a thing. In the right hands, it can ﬁx things and make people more secure, more comfortable. Your view is so dark. Why?"

Ryan got up and walked to the window. Duﬀy lazily looked up, but seeing she was only a few feet away, he put his head back down. The view was limited, mostly the side of another building, but Ryan was able to see a sliver of water in the distance, and she focused on it. "I haven't seen much good come from this kind of money. So many people use it to oppress others. I don't want to be in the group of people who make their problems go away by waving money at them."

"That's ridiculous," Sara said, making Ryan turn and stare at her. "Bad people with money are dangerous. Good people with money can make the world a better place. I know that's something you want to do. Why not use this as another tool?"

"I didn't earn it," Ryan said, her voice almost breaking.

"Yes, you did. You earned it fair and square, doing the same thing that everybody on Wall Street does. Give it up, Ryan. You're being childish about this and you're going to mess things up if you persist in this attitude. Nobody likes to feel that you think you're superior to them. That includes Jamie."

"I don't think I'm superior to Jamie!"

"If I were Jamie, I'd be furious with you. She gave you this fantastic opportunity to have your own money and you act like she gave you a venereal disease."

"She doesn't think that." A look of uncertainty crossed her face. "I don't think she does."

"Here's the truth: with or without money, you're the same person. Not everyone in your family will believe that. Your father will probably have a hard a time with it; some of your cousins will make a big deal about it. So don't tell them. It's no one's business that you have this money. Live like you've always lived, but respect Jamie's lifestyle too."

"I try to," Ryan said quietly. "But it's so, so diﬀerent from mine."

"It's the same for her. She seems awfully down to earth to me. Has she cut back on her spending to make you happy?"

"Yeah, she has." Ryan's head dropped and she glumly looked at the ﬂoor.

"Who has compromised further, her or you?"

"She has." Ryan looked up brieﬂy. "She loves to travel and go out to nice restaurants. I ﬁght to stay home."

"You've got to stop. I know you, and I know your needs are simple, but hers aren't. Be respectful of that. This isn't all about you; it's about the two of you as a couple."

"You're right, you're right, you're right." Ryan slid down the wall, her Lycra leggings letting her glide along the surface until she was crouched down so far her butt was resting on her heels. "I'm such a jackass."

"You don't like change. You never have. I understand this is hard for you, but you've got to think about what's best for Jamie, too. So take the money and do something positive with it. Just stop whining!" She said it with a smile, but Ryan knew she meant every word.

Nodding her head a few times, Ryan tensed her thighs and slowly pushed upward. "Got it." She extended her ﬁst and Sara bumped it with her own.

"Just for the record, it's been an adjustment for me to make the kind of money I'm making."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I make more than my dad does and that's weird."

Ryan started to stretch her arms over her head, limbering up for the run home. "How do you handle it?"

"Since my parents don't know what I make, it's not a very big deal, but if I stay in this job I'll make a whole lot more. I'm sure I'll blow most of it on vacations and massages and expensive wine, like most of the partners, so it'll be obvious over time."

"I'll go halvsies with you on a yacht." the sparkle was back in Ryan's eyes.

"We'll see. Maybe I'll tag along with Jamie on some of that travel she hasn't been getting."

"And I'll stay here with Ally and work out. We could all be happy."

"I want my big girl with me. And I think you'd go nuts without Jamie after two days."

"Probably one," Ryan admitted. "'Tis desperate." She shook her arms out and rocked up onto her toes a few times. "I'd better get going. Jamie will want to know what I want for dinner. She likes to shop right before she cooks."

"Does she cook every night?"

Ryan smiled contentedly. "Yeah. It's great."

"For you," Sara said, giving Ryan a pointed look.

Her smile evaporated. "Right. That's right." Shaking her head again, she said, "Relationships are a full time job."

"So concentrate on your job and do it well. You've got the time and all of the tools. Get busy, O'Flaherty."

Ryan patted her leg and Duﬀy got up and moved to her. He sat down, waiting for her to put his leash on. "I will." She clipped him in and gave Sara a one-armed hug. It was very brief, the kind of hug she'd give someone she barely knew, but it let her feel in control, something she was determined to do while resuscitating their relationship. "Thanks for your time." She stepped back and added, "I appreciate that you made time to talk to me."

"I always will. I really like that you knew you could call. That's a good sign."

"Really good." Smiling happily, Ryan moved toward the door. As she walked out she said, "We'll be in touch."

Sara lightly placed her hand on Ryan's shoulder. "One more thing."

"Yeah?" they were standing close to each other in the doorway, a little too close for Ryan's comfort. But they'd always kept only a small amount of personal space between them, and to step back would have looked rude.

"You have a tendency," Sara began, "just a small tendency…" she put her thumb and foreﬁnger an inch apart, "to ascribe good motives to the less wealthy and bad motives to the rich. You might want to reconsider that position."

Ryan looked into warm brown eyes, searching them carefully. "Do I really do that?"

"Yeah. You have since you were a kid."

Muttering under her breath, Ryan said, "That's not a good trait, considering the family I'm marrying into."

"No. I'd think not."

"It's tough. I've just had so many nasty interactions with people who think they can buy me or pay oﬀ the little people who get in their way."

"I realize that. But think about your da's father. Think about Michael's father. You can be a very bad person and as poor as dirt. Rich people don't have a monopoly on evil. There's plenty to go around."

"Right." Ryan looked at Sara and shrugged. "I've got my work cut out for me."

"Call me anytime you need a reminder."

"Will do."

Sara moved closer and gently kissed Ryan's cheek. The spot grew warm and Ryan could feel a wave of heat rise in her cheeks.

"I'll count on it, Siobhán." Sara pulled away and Ryan grasped Duﬀy's leash, letting him propel her down the stairs and out of the range of Sara's primal pull on her very being.

* * *

The front door of the O'Flaherty house opened and Duﬀy burst through, scampering up the stairs and into the living room where he bounced against the chair and began to joyously lick Jamie's face. By the time Ryan got there, Jamie was giggling and pushing the frantic dog away. "Stop him!" she begged.

Ryan could have easily done so. Instead, she got down on her knees and joined the game. Looking puzzled, Duﬀy cast a glance at her then went back to his task. Ryan was a little gentler and expelled a lot less saliva. Her technique was to burrow her nose into Jamie's armpits, then against her belly, anywhere she could go to make her laugh. Deciding that Jamie had had enough, Ryan sat on her haunches then tapped Duﬀy on his. She had to poke him a few times, but he ﬁnally got the message and sat back, staring at Jamie with his huge dark eyes.

"Only one of you is evil." Jamie scratched under both of their chins, drawing smiles. "You both know better, but you know better than he does." She patted Ryan's head. "Luckily, I love you both." She leaned over and put both arms around Duﬀy's neck and tossed him back and forth in a raucous hug. He turned, pulling Jamie oﬀ the chair then the two of them rolled around on the ﬂoor for a moment, with Ryan laughing at their antics.

"I don't want to break up the party, but I'm going to go down and shower." She gave Jamie a lecherous gaze. "I could sure use some help."

Jamie released her hold on Duﬀy and let Ryan pull her to her feet. "I was hoping you'd come home dirtier than normal."

They all went downstairs together, but only two of them were allowed into the bathroom.Jamie spent a moment peeling Ryan's wet running clothes oﬀ of her, then she got into the shower and adjusted the temperature. Ryan joined her, bringing her toothbrush. While Jamie continued to adjust the water, Ryan wet her brush and gave her teeth a thorough cleansing.

"I don't know why brushing my teeth in the shower doesn't appeal to me, but it really doesn't," Jamie commented

"It's much more eﬃcient to do it this way, then you can rinse the foam oﬀ."

Ryan stood in front of the water and Jamie watched the bubbly white rivulet roll down her face. "I know you have a point-you always do-but to me, brushing belongs in front of the sink. I don't think I can change. Besides, I brushed mine after lunch."

Ryan leaned down and kissed her, then she pulled away and said, "You still taste fresh."

"You taste fresher." With the water raining down on them and the fresh scent of toothpaste still in the air, Jamie slipped her hands up Ryan's back and pulled her close. She tilted her head and kissed her several times, each time putting a little more energy into it. She ﬁnally pulled away, her eyes half closed.

"You look so sexy when you're kissing me," Ryan murmured. "You get a little half smile and you look like you're going to do something that you're really looking forward to."

"Truer words..."

Ryan took the bar of soap and lathered her partner up, with several detours to harden her nipples. Jamie returned the attention, spending a little longer than was absolutely necessary to clean Ryan's most private parts. Ryan would have been very happy to complete their lovemaking right there, but Jamie stopped and began to rinse both of them with the handheld attachment.

"We're stopping?" Ryan asked, sounding just a little pathetic.

"We're just starting, silly. Don't be in such a rush."

Once they were well rinsed, Jamie grabbed a towel and put it around her shoulders then took another and started to dry Ryan oﬀ. When they were both reasonably dry, she opened the bathroom door, ﬁnding, as expected, Duﬀy lying right in front of it. "You tired your poor dog out."

"I know I did. We came home pretty slowly. He's really gotten out of shape just going on walks and occasional runs with Conor. I'll have to take it a little easier on him."

Jamie pulled out the hairdryer and started to work a wide comb through Ryan's hair while she blew it dry. This was Ryan's favorite part of the shower. She leaned over and let Jamie comb her hair straight forward, getting the back thoroughly dry. It took quite a few minutes but once she was done, Ryan stood and tossed her hair back and it settled against her shoulders, ﬂuﬀy and model beautiful. "I love the way you dry my hair. You do a much better job than I do."

"I love to comb you hair. I could be a hair stylist if I could only have you as a client. Now I have to do my mine."

"Want me to do it?"

"No thanks. Mine takes a certain amount of technique now that I'm trying to grow it out. I have to account for a couple of cowlicks that will show up if I don't dry it the right way."

Ryan sat on the edge of the tub and watched Jamie concentrate on getting her hair just right. "It's going to be messed up in about two minutes. A waste of time if you ask me."

"No it's not. If I get it right, I only have to comb it after you've thoroughly messed it up." She turned and gave Ryan a lascivious wink which didn't look very lascivious all. There was something about her wink that made her look about six years old.

When they were both completely clean and dry, they went into the bedroom and got under the sheet. It was still very chilly in the room, but Ryan was fairly certain their body heat would eliminate the need for a quilt.

Ryan's leg automatically slid between Jamie's. Jamie put her hand on the small of Ryan's back and pulled her close. Their heads were on the same pillow, their faces mere inches apart. "Want to tell me about your day?"

"Sure. I'll tell you about it over dinner. But I can say that I made a very good choice in talking to Sara. She was the right person at the right time. And," she said dramatically. "I'm giving myself bonus points for coming back into the house and telling you that's where I was going."

Frowning slightly, Jamie said, "You don't have to get permission from me to see whomever you want."

"This isn't about you; it's about me. Seeing Sara is always charged for me. And when I'm doing something that has an emotional charge, it's best for me to tell you I'm doing it. I don't like to feel like I'm going behind your back."

Jamie disentangled herself and rolled over, lying on her belly. "You can go behind my back now. I need a massage. Sitting in a chair for what…six hours?...wasn't the most intelligent thing I could have done with my day."

Ryan started to work on her partner's stiﬀ muscles. "Did you have a good day?"

"An excellent day. I read a book that really pulled me into it. I felt like I was living in the royal court in St. Petersburg during the time of Nicholas the Great. It was a fantastic day."

Ryan didn't really understand. She'd rarely read anything that had actually made her feel like she was somewhere else. But she believed Jamie and was glad that she had a hobby that was so fulﬁlling for her. She was thinking about that, and about their diﬀerences, when she noticed Jamie scooting up the bed, indicating that Ryan's hand should go a little lower. As her hands started to knead Jamie's shapely ass, Ryan smiled, thinking that the things that brought them together were much more fun than the things that separated them.

* * *

About a half-hour later, Ryan woke at the sensation of Jamie trying to creep out of bed. "Where you going? I'm not done with you."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Jamie turned and raised an eyebrow. "Really? The fact that you were asleep led me to think you were not only done, you'd moved on to another activity."

"Just a catnap. Two or three minutes is all I needed." She held her hands out. "Come back to me."

Jamie leaned back and gently rubbed Ryan's warm belly "It's getting late. I've got to get to the store. How many do you think we'll have for dinner?" As she spoke, they heard the front door open and at least two sets of footsteps climb the stairs as the front door slammed.

Ryan said, "I can't tell who that is." She sat up and listened carefully. It sounded as though the footsteps stayed in the living room then stopped. "That's Kevin and somebody else. If it was Conor, he would've gone into his room."

"Good deducing. I think you're right. I'll go get a head-count."

Ryan dove for her, wrapping both arms around Jamie's waist. "Don't go.'

"I have to. I can't have three or four sets of hungry eyes staring balefully at me right at six o'clock."

"Tonight there will only be one set of eyes staring at you, and they're not going to be full of bale." Ryan looked little uncertain about that last word.

"What do you mean?"

"We, you and I, are going out to dinner."

"We are?" Jamie said excitedly.

She said it was so much enthusiasm that Ryan felt like a tremendous jerk. Jamie truly got a lot of enjoyment out of going out to dinner, and the only reason they didn't go was because Ryan didn't care for it. She realized once again that when they had a diﬀerence of opinion, Jamie almost always deferred. That just wasn't right, and Ryan vowed to rededicate herself to changing the dynamic.

"We're not only going out, we're going out to a real restaurant-silverware, cloth napkins, tablecloths." She said this with great élan.

Jamie jumped to her feet "Tablecloths?" She joyously hopped around in a circle.

"And real servers-people who know what's on the menu and how stuﬀ is made."

Putting her hand to her chest, Jamie stumbled around as though she were having a spell. "What's gotten into you?"

"I decided to be thoughtful for a change. We're going to a new place your mom likes. She got us reservations, something I think I would've had a tough time doing."

Jamie knelt on the bed and took Ryan's face into her hands. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate this. The fact that you not only are willing to go, but that you called my mom to ﬁnd a good place really means a lot to me."

She leaned all the way over and kissed Ryan several times, her heartfelt enthusiasm making Ryan feel like an even bigger idiot. But she fought through it and reminded herself not to wallow in self rebuke. If she was going to do something nice for Jamie, she had to just do it and get over it.

"We're going at seven. Is that too early?"

"Seven is perfect. How dressed up should I get?"

"It's in SoMa. Your mom said it will be ﬁlled with people from the nearby art galleries wearing black. Does that tell you enough?"

Part 2

What's Ya Poison?