I Found My Heart in San Francisco: Book 15

 

Osmosis

 

A gradual, often unconscious process of absorption or learning

 

By SX Meagher

 

 

 

 

Part Six

 

 

 

On Wednesday morning, Conor’s cell phone rang and he stepped outside the room his crew was working on to answer it. “Hello?”

 

“Mr. O’Flaherty? Catherine Smith.”

 

“Well, hello, Ms. Smith. Nice to hear from you.”

 

“My, that sounded odd to my ears,” she said. “I haven’t called myself Catherine Smith since I was in college.”

 

“Still testing it out?”

 

She considered that. “Yes, in a way. But I’m going through with it. When my divorce is finalized it’ll be official. Now I’m just slowly telling people.”

 

“I think it sounds great. Catherine Smith,” he said, testing it out. “Yep. It’s great.”

 

“Thank you,” she said, her voice tinkling with laugher. “Surprisingly, that’s not why I called.”

 

“That would’ve been enough. I’m always glad to hear from you,” Conor said gallantly.

 

“You might not be when I ask my question.”

 

“Oh, sure I will be. Ask me anything.”

 

“Okay.” Catherine took in an audible breath. “Are you busy on Saturday night?”

 

“This Saturday?”

 

“Yes. I know it’s very short notice, but I wasn’t going to go to this benefit for the symphony until a friend of mine called and practically begged me. I hate to let her down, and I don’t want to go alone …”

 

Conor didn’t hesitate. “I’ve got a tuxedo and I’m ready to use it. What time should I pick you up?”

 

“Oh, Conor, you’re a doll!”

 

“Nah. I just like to party.”

 

“The symphony crowd is about the same age as the crowd for the opera benefit, Conor. I’m fairly sure your normal crowd is a few decades younger.”

 

“Maybe. But you’ll be there and we’re practically the same age.”

 

“Ha! You must not have your sister’s math abilities.”

 

“I can add pretty darned well. And when you’re added to a party, everyone has a good time.”

 

***

 

After a trip to the orthopedist to pick up her new splint, Jamie and Catherine headed over to the Castro to meet with Ray to look at four properties.

 

They got into his Mercedes and drove to a modest home in Noe, but the footprint of the house was so small that they agreed it wouldn’t work. Back in the car, Jamie said, “Are the other houses bigger than this one?”

 

“Not really. You just can’t buy much in Noe or Castro for the kind of money you’re talking about. I know you want to flip the building, and you’ll be able to, but …”

 

“But we won’t make much money,” Jamie finished for him.

 

“Probably not,” he agreed. “Houses are so overpriced that even the real dogs are selling quickly.”

 

Jamie stared out the window, looking at the very modest homes. “What about small apartment buildings or duplexes? Wouldn’t they be a better bet?”

 

“Well, yeah,” Ray said, chuckling. “But you’re talking a lot more money.”

 

“What if money wasn’t a big issue?”

 

He gave her a quick look. “Money’s always a big issue.”

 

Sighing, she said, “Okay. The idea is to take Niall’s money and use it for a down payment. That’s $200,000. We figured we’d get a loan for the balance and to pay for materials. I know the boys didn’t want to have to make a very large monthly payment on the loan, but we could arrange for private financing. Why don’t you show us something that wouldn’t take too many months to fix up, but that we could make a good profit on?”

 

“Like a three flat?”

 

“Yeah. Something like that. No more than … what do you think, Mom? Five apartments?”

 

Catherine considered, then  nodded. “The bigger the building, the bigger the profit if you’re going to be landlords, right, Ray?”

 

“Usually,” he said. “But if you’re going to do all of the work yourselves, I’d limit it to five or six units. Do you think your … partners will go for being landlords?”

 

“They might not look it, but they’re pretty malleable,” Jamie said, sharing a smile with her mother.

 

***

 

Ryan stepped out of the shower that afternoon, having delayed her normal morning clean-up until her mind was completely boggled by the myriad of ideas she was trying to get to jell for her independent study. She’d been in her room, laboring over her computer with every spare moment for weeks, not bothering to comb her hair or put on decent clothes until she had to leave the house.

 

Maria Los had grown used to seeing her in a T-shirt and boxer shorts or sweats, depending on the weather, even though she privately wondered why such a lovely woman didn’t put any care into her appearance. The cleaning woman was itching to give the room a thorough cleaning, but Ryan was home every day she came to the house, and she’d been told politely but firmly that the room was off limits.

 

Hearing the phone, Ryan dried off hurriedly and sprinted for it, catching it just before it went to the answering machine. “H’lo?”

 

“Hey, good-lookin’,” the familiar tones of Ally’s voice said.

 

“Hey, yourself! Give me a sec, will ya? I’m just getting out of the shower.”

 

“Sure. Want me to call back?”

 

“Yeah. Give me five minutes.”

 

“You got ’em.”

 

Ryan finished drying off and put her towel back in the bathroom, then put on her usual softball clothes—a long-sleeved shirt that wicked away sweat and a T-shirt over that, plus some compression shorts covered by baggy athletic shorts. She jogged down the stairs and grabbed a bottle of water, then went into the living room to wait for Ally’s call.

 

Maria Los poked her head out of the kitchen and gave Ryan an inquisitive look. “I clean room?” she asked, pointing to the second floor.

 

“Si,” Ryan said, smiling at her persistence. “I’m leaving.”

 

“Good,” Maria Los said, giving Ryan a big smile as she took her bucket of cleaning supplies and headed upstairs.

 

I wonder if she knows that was an insult? The phone rang and Ryan picked it up. “Talk to me,” she said.

 

“That’s why I called. Sara said she read that Jamie’s out for the rest of the season. What happened?”

 

“Ooo … Right. I forgot that she reads the Bears newsletters. I should have called.”

 

“Right. You should have,” Ally said, her tone light but her message clear.

 

“I’m just so busy …” Ryan started to say, but she stopped herself. “Ahh … that’s bull. I need to make time to keep up with our friends. I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s all right, Rock, you’re not in the confessional. Just tell me what happened.”

 

Laughing, Ryan told the story, leaving out the long-simmering animosity between Jamie and Juliet. “So, she’s done for the season and walking around with a splint from her shoulder to her wrist.”

 

“Hoo! I bet she’s madder ’n a hornet! To work for all those months and get shut down at the end of the season really bites.”

 

“You know,” Ryan said, giving the thought some consideration, “she’s not as mad as she should be. I think she was kinda tired of the whole thing. She didn’t have any good friends and … Huh.” She paused at the realization that struck her. “I bet she’s glad that she’s not gonna have to be away from home and from me.”

 

“Well, who could blame her?” Ally said, laughing. “As modest as ever.”

 

“No, no,” Ryan said, laughing at the way her comment had been perceived. “She’s worried about me. I’m still not really back at normal speed yet, and she feels like she has to keep an eye on me. It’s been wearing on her.”

 

Ally was quiet for a moment, then said with concern coloring her voice, “Are you that bad off, sugar?”

 

“Nah,” Ryan said, lying just a little. “I’ll be fine. It’s just taking me a while. Kinda like after I was gay-bashed.”

 

“You were pretty down then, buddy. I was afraid I was never gonna see those blue eyes sparkle again.”

 

“Well, they did. I’ve just had a run of back luck in the last couple of years. Thankfully, there’ve been more great things than bad things, so I can’t complain.”

 

“You never do. You might feel better if you did.”

 

“Ugh … right … you’re another therapy shill.”

 

Ryan was clearly teasing and Ally took it as such. “Not lately,” she admitted. “I think I might have seen the man behind the curtain or something. It’s lost its magic.”

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“Ahh … just the same things you and I talked about a few months ago. I’m trying to change some pretty elemental stuff and neither my brain nor my …” she paused, not comfortable enough to use her usual slang, “…private parts are cooperating.”

 

Ryan looked at her watch and saw that she had nearly an hour before she had to leave for softball practice. “Tell me about it. I’ve got time … and interest.”

 

“Sure? I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

 

“I wasn’t uncomfortable having sex with you, why would I be uncomfortable just talking about it?” Ryan chuckled.

 

Ally didn’t voice the obvious reason, she just said, “If you’re sure.”

 

“I am. Hit me.”

 

“Well … it’s hard to change my patterns,” Ally said. “My therapist says that some of the things we do and the ways we react are kinda hard-wired and it’s really tough to change them.”

 

“I’m sure that’s true. But if you’re really motivated I’m sure you can make some headway.”

 

“Uhm … I am … or I was … but Sara’s making things tough for me. This is the part that I thought might make you uncomfortable.”

 

Ryan was uncomfortable, very uncomfortable. It was one thing to think of Ally and her sexual responses, but she didn’t like to think of Sara and Ally together. Stilll, she had no intention of letting her friend down. She knew Ally wouldn’t ask to talk if she didn’t need to, so she swallowed her discomfort and said, “I’m still here. Tell me whatever you want.”

 

“Okay.” Ryan could hear her friend taking in a breath and letting it out. “You know how I am in bed, right?”

 

“Uh, yeah, I have a vague recollection.” She laughed. “Spit it out, Webster!”

 

“All right, all right. When we got together, I told Sara I wanted to change how I responded and how I related to her. I wanted to make things more equal … more give and take. I didn’t want to start a serious relationship with someone and have those old images creeping into my bed.”

 

“That makes sense,” Ryan said soothingly. “Perfect sense.”

 

“But Sara doesn’t really want me to change,” Ally said. “She likes how I am.”

 

Ryan silently sucked in a breath, her brain assaulted by images of Ally dominating her first love. But she fought through them enough to say, “I know I sure did.”

 

“Uhm … thanks? Well anyway … she likes it a lot, and it’s so easy to give in, ya know? To let myself get carried away and not have to think; to just act on my instincts. But that’s not what I want!”

 

“Because …?”

 

“Because I adopted those ways of coping to protect myself. If I’m the top, I don’t have to be as vulnerable. I don’t have to feel like I did when my brother—”

 

“Ally,” Ryan said gently, “you were vulnerable with me a lot of the time. Give it some time … it’ll happen.”

 

“Uhm … it’s happening already. That’s part of the reason it’s hard for me to change. It’s surprisingly easy to be vulnerable with her. But she’s such a natural sub, Ryan. She says she’s always dreamed of someone dominating her. Honestly … she seems so happy and satisfied, that now I’m afraid I’ll screw things up if I can change.”

 

Trying to get some moisture into her mouth, Ryan smacked her lips together, then recalled that she had a bottle of water. She took a long drink, then said, “But you don’t enjoy it anymore, huh?”

 

“Oh, no! I love it! We fit together like pieces of a puzzle. I can let myself go with her and go places I’ve never been with a woman. But this isn’t what I want,” she said plaintively. “I want us to be equals … all of the time. I don’t wanna play with power.”

 

“Because it reminds you of your brother?” Ryan asked tentatively.

 

“No, not when it’s going on. When we’re having sex, I feel great. It bothers me afterward, when I beat myself up for letting go.”

 

“Ally,” Ryan soothed, suddenly feeling more comfortable, “do you let her in? Do you let her touch you…everywhere?”

 

“Uhm … yeah, pretty much. There are still a couple of things I don’t like and I don’t think I’ll ever like ’em, but they don’t interfere too much.”

 

“And you stop thinking and let her make love to you?”

 

“Yeah. I do,” she said without hesitation. “I trust her.”

 

“Then … why change?”

 

“I want it to be clean,” Ally said. “I don’t want the things from my past to have any influence on us. I want to start fresh with her, Ryan, but our desires have me stuck!”

 

“Ally, Ally,” she murmured, “you can’t stop being who you are, and neither can Sara. There has to be some reason—no matter how benign—that she’s a natural bottom. It’d probably be just as hard for her to stop that inclination as it is for you to try and suppress yours. Why take away her pleasure?”

 

“I don’t want to do that!”

 

“I’m sure you don’t. But if she’s most turned on by being dominated … she’s gonna miss it if you change. And, besides, for all you know, you’re a natural top. Maybe you developed those instincts in reaction to things that happened to you, but it’s possible they were always there. It could be a coincidence; maybe your brother didn’t have anything to do with it.”

 

“But I feel like he did. I’ve convinced myself it’s … dirty … tainted to touch Sara that way. I feel like I’m taking my brother’s role and she’s the victim.”

 

“But Sara doesn’t feel that way.”

 

“No, not at all …” She hesitated. “I don’t think so. We haven’t really talked about it in much detail. I’m pretty skittish about it.”

 

“How long have you been working on this in therapy?”

 

“Months,” Ally said. “Seems like years. And I don’t feel like I’ve changed much, if at all.”

 

“Mind a suggestion?”

 

“Not from you.”

 

“Try to open up and talk to Sara about this. She knows all about your brother, right?”

 

“Yeah. I told her at the very beginning.”

 

“See what she thinks,” Ryan suggested. “If she really wants you to dominate her, she’s probably not helping you keep things equal all of the time.”

 

Ally laughed and pulled out one of the expressions Ryan had always thought cute. “That’s for shit’n’sure! I don’t even think she knows she’s doing it, but she puts herself in my hands. She gives herself to me, Ryan. Totally.”

 

“We all have histories, buddy. All of us. And I think we do get hard-wired. So you can try to change your electrical circuitry—as well as Sara’s—or you can work on getting more comfortable with who you are and how you relate to each other. To tell you the truth, I think that’d be an easier sell.”

 

“Hmm … my therapist doesn’t say that directly, but she’s been nudging me in that direction.” She chuckled. “I’ve just been trying to ignore her.”

 

“Heh. I know what that’s like. And I know what it’s like to try to change something fundamental, Ally, and I’ve gotta tell ya, I think your road is gonna be smoother if you and Sara let yourselves go and work on being proud of who you are. No matter how you got there, you’re the best top in the Bay Area, girl! And you know this city is filled with leather-clad butch bottoms just dreaming about being topped!”

 

“Like you,” Ally chuckled.

 

“Hey! Don’t go spreading that around! I’ve got a rep to maintain!”

 

“Your secret’s safe with me, sugar. And I’ll think about what you said, talk to Sara about it.” She paused and added, “But I don’t think I’ll tell her we talked about this. I don’t—”

 

“Don’t sweat it. This is between us, just us.”

 

“Thanks, Rock. Once again, I call to ask about you and wind up talking about me. How do you work that?”

 

“I’m a natural,” Ryan said, giggling girlishly.

 

***

 

Ryan walked into the house that night, stopping short when she spied Jamie walking down the stairs. “Wow,” she said, her eyes showing frank appreciation. “You look fantastic.”

 

“Really?” Jamie smiled and continued to descend. Standing on the bottom stair, she cocked her head. “More fantastic than usual?”

 

Smiling, Ryan said, “Good point. You always look fantastic.” She dropped her gym bag and put her arms around Jamie’s waist. She stood perfectly still for a few moments, gazing into her partner’s eyes. “You look particularly fantastic in that shirt. You’ve been wearing a lot of Indian-style shirts. They look really nice on you. This color is good, too,” she said, fingering the brick-colored linen.

 

“They fit a little loose, so I can get away with not wearing a bra if I wear a snug camisole.” She kissed Ryan, ignoring the tiny bit of grit from the softball field on her lips. “You’re so involved with your work by the time I leave, I don’t want to break your concentration enough to have you dress me.”

 

“Ooo … don’t feel like that, hon. It’s fine to interrupt me.”

 

“You kissed my eye this morning,” Jamie said, re-enacting the misplaced kiss. “And you didn’t even realize it.”

 

“Uhm … I meant to do that,” Ryan said, giving her a sparkling grin. “Your eye looked … very kissable this morning.”

 

“Don’t bother kissing the Blarney Stone when we go to Ireland. You don’t need any help.” She patted Ryan’s side and scooted past her. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

 

Ryan followed her, nose twitching. “I smell … Mexican.”

 

“Yep. And I made refrijoles the way you like ’em.”

 

“From scratch?”

 

“That’s how you like ’em, isn’t it?” Jamie responded with a smile.

 

They passed into the kitchen. “I didn’t know it until you made them for me, but now that’s the only way I like them.” Ryan grasped Jamie’s left hand. “Hey, you got your new splint.”

 

Jamie hiked up the loose-fitting sleeve. “Yep. Cool, huh?”

 

Ryan inspected the molded gray plastic and the black Velcro straps. “Totally. Can you put it on yourself?”

 

“Yeah. I think I might even be able to shower alone now.”

 

“Don’t rush; I like helping,” Ryan said, grinning. She looked at the stove and calculated that dinner was imminent. “Speaking of which, I’d better go shower and change.”

 

“Eh … don’t bother. You can get clean enough to eat by washing your hands and face at the sink.”

 

Looking down on her dusty, slightly damp clothes, Ryan said, “You sure?”

 

“Yeah. You can shower before bed.” She went to the cabinet and took out plates and glasses.

 

Uncertainly, Ryan took a peek at Jamie. “Why don’t you mind if I look like this?”

 

Jamie smiled at her and gave her a quick tap on her butt. “Not much difference, honey. A T-shirt and sweats is a T-shirt and sweats. A little added dust won’t hurt.”

 

Ryan reached out and stopped Jamie’s progress. “Hey,” she said, making eye contact, “what did that mean?”

 

Blinking, Jamie said, “Nothing. It just seems like a senseless delay to go shower when I know you’re hungry. You’re not gonna get the food dirty.” She laughed a little, but trailed off when she saw the look on Ryan’s face.

 

“No. I meant what you said about the T-shirt and sweats.”

 

“Nothing,” Jamie moved away and went into the dining room to put the plates on the table. Ryan was right on her heels, and Jamie said, “I didn’t mean anything, honey. It’s just that since you’ve been playing sports, you don’t generally vary your wardrobe much. No big deal.”

 

“Really?” Ryan grasped her arm and held her still. “You don’t mind?”

 

“No. It makes sense. When we first met, you weren’t playing a sport. It’s understandable that you spent more time on looking nice when you didn’t have to change three times a day.”

 

Ryan let her go and slowly followed her into the kitchen. She went to the sink and washed her face and hands, then took the brush Jamie had bought for her and scrubbed under her nails. She was still working diligently when Jamie scratched her back and said, “Dinner’s on the table. Let’s go.”

 

Nodding, Ryan dried her hands and followed her. Ungainly, she stood behind her chair and fussed with her hair, smoothing it back into a neater-looking ponytail.

 

Seeing the look on her face, Jamie stood by her and put an arm around her waist. “Before dinner kiss?”

 

Ryan complied, brushing her lips quickly. “Looks good,” she said, nodding at the dinner.

 

“Thanks. Now sit down and tell me about your day.”

 

Ryan didn’t have much to report, so she listened to Jamie talk about a few things that had happened to her at school. “Oh, Anna said she could see me earlier in the day, since I don’t have golf anymore.”

 

Lifting an eyebrow, Ryan said, “I didn’t know that was something you wanted to do.”

 

“Yeah. I’d like to be home earlier so I can take a little more time with dinner. I hate to rush.”

 

Spending a moment looking at her, Ryan said, “You made this fantastic dinner from scratch, you look like a million bucks, your hair’s perfect, you’ve got just the right amount of perfume on and you brushed your teeth seconds before I got home. I could taste the mint on your lips.”

 

Shrugging, Jamie said, “So?”

 

“You’re always trying,” Ryan said. “You go out of your way to look nice and smell nice and make our home nice. And you do most of it for me.”

 

“Yeah …” Looking puzzled, Jamie said, “Is that a surprise?”

 

“No, no, not a surprise, but I’m not keeping up my end of the deal. I’m not making that extra effort … making sure I look nice for you.”

 

“Oh, don’t be silly. You always look good to me. You’re so beautiful you don’t need to make an extra effort.”

 

“That’s not true,” Ryan said earnestly. “I really noticed you today. And it made me feel good. Made me feel like I was important.”

 

“Jeez, Ryan, of course you’re important!”

 

She reached across the table and took Jamie’s hand. “But you make the effort to show me that. That’s important. I appreciate it.” She kissed Jamie’s hand tenderly. “I really appreciate it.”

 

“You’re such a sweet girl.” Jamie pushed aside her plate and got up, standing by Ryan’s chair while she pushed away from the table. “Let me sit on your lap.”

 

Ryan smiled at her as Jamie squirmed around, getting comfortable. They kissed, slowly, for a few minutes, until Jamie put her forehead against Ryan’s and took in a few slow breaths. “You take my breath away … every time,” Ryan murmured.

 

“I don’t wanna take your dinner away. I know how hungry you are.” She started to get up, but Ryan held onto her.

 

“I’m hungry for you too,” she whispered and lavished several more heated kisses on her partner.

 

“Mmm,” Jamie said, licking her lips. “You might not be dressed well, but you sure as heck can kiss!”

 

***

 

Ryan was in her room working at her computer, when Jamie came in to get ready for bed. Ryan dutifully helped Jamie take off her blouse, since putting clothes on was easier than taking them off. “Want a T-shirt?” Ryan asked.

 

“Yeah. I’ll go get one.”

 

“I’ll give you one. You like ’em big anyway.”

 

“It’s not that I like them that big, I just like to wear your clothes.”

 

“Ally’s the only woman I could do that with,” Ryan said wistfully. She opened a drawer of shirts that Ally had given her over the years and chose a nice, bright yellow one. Tugging it over Jamie’s head, she asked, “Mind if I take your splint off? I wanna see how it works.”

 

“No. Go ahead. Wanna try it on?”

 

“Nah. I’ve had enough casts, not much allure there.” She gently undid the Velcro straps and slipped off the plastic pieces. “Cute little sleeve.”

 

Jamie looked at the snug knit piece of material that covered her arm from wrist to shoulder. “That’s so the plastic doesn’t stick to me. Thoughtful, huh?”

 

“Yep.” Ryan drew it off her arm, wincing and making a face at the Technicolor bruising. “How does it feel?”

 

“Not too bad. It aches a little, but not much.”

 

“This is some bruise. I think I’ll take a picture so you remember the only significant injury you’re ever going to have.” She leaned over and kissed several spots, touching blue, purple, and maroon skin. “My poor little chipmunk.”

 

“Chipmunk?”

 

Sliding the sleeve back on, Ryan started to reassemble the splint. “You seemed chipmunkish just then. What did the doctor tell you about using your arm?”

 

“He said I should keep it elevated when I can, and that it’s okay to use my hand. I haven’t felt like it, though. It’s still too stiff and swollen.”

 

Ryan held her hand and inspected it. “Can you flex it?”

 

Jamie did, lips pursed as she slowly moved her hand. “It doesn’t look or feel like my own hand. It’s weird.”

 

Ryan nodded her understanding. “It is a weird feeling, isn’t it? A swollen hand always feels like I’m wearing a tight rubber glove.”

 

“Hey, it does!” Jamie said, her nose wrinkling when she smiled.

 

“You’re doing well, babe. When we’re sitting around in the evening, you can still keep ice on it. That’ll help the swelling.”

 

“I forget to do that.”

 

Ryan kissed her gently. “Then I’ll remember for you. Need help in the bathroom?”

 

“I can manage. It’s much easier when I’m not wearing pants.”

 

“Most things are,” Ryan said, giving her a wicked grin.

 

Jamie went into the bathroom and started to brush her teeth. She emerged a few seconds later, her mouth covered with white foam. “Nice shirt.” She glanced down at the slogan, then back at her partner.

 

Grinning, Ryan looked up. “A girl can hope.”

 

Jamie took the brush from her mouth and leaned over, wiping her mouth on Ryan’s cheek. “Such a bad girl.”

 

Ryan wiped the bubbles from her face, saying, “I don’t think I’ve ever worn that one.”

 

“If I see you walking around town with an ‘I’ve saved you a seat’ shirt on, you’re not gonna be sitting anywhere for a while.”

 

“It’s not the words,” Ryan decided, grinning, “it’s the arrow pointing at your face that gives it meaning.”

 

“That’s the meaning that’ll get your hide tanned, O’Flaherty. That seat is reserved for moi!”

 

***

 

After a relatively somber lunch, Jordan took Mia to the airport for her late afternoon flight. When they got there, Jordan started to head for short-term parking, but Mia said, “Just drop me off, Jordy. It’s easier for me.”

 

Giving her a quick glance, Jordan saw that Mia’s mind was made up. Grumbling quietly, she did what Mia asked, pulling up in front of the terminal a few minutes later. “I like to go to the gate with you.”

 

“Too risky,” Mia said. She leaned over and kissed Jordan, ramping up the emotion until she heard her lover groan. Mia felt a little light-headed, but she managed to say, “It’s too tempting to grab you and drag you onto the plane with me. I know I’m not strong enough to carry you from here.”

 

Her smile was sad, and Jordan’s gaze didn’t move from Mia’s eyes. “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too. And I’m gonna be thinking about you every minute.” With great care she smoothed Jordan’s hair into place, straightened her collar and the placket of her shirt. “But you, my Olympic beauty, have to concentrate on your game. I want you to be completely self-indulgent. Don’t think about anything other than your body, your game and your team.”

 

The corner of Jordan’s mouth curled up in a half-smile. “You’ve gotta give me some time to think about you. I’m only human.”

 

“Okay.” Mia looked up, thinking. “You can think about me when you get into bed at night. You think about how nice it feels to be loved for being exactly who you are. Think about how we don’t have to be together to be connected. And that whenever you think about me, I’m thinking about you.” She slipped her arms around Jordan and kissed her again and again; their bodies pressed together, lips feverishly seeking the sweet softness of each other’s mouth.

 

“I love you,” Jordan finally said, her voice thin and soft. “And I love Jamie and Ryan for loving you.”

 

“They love you too. We’re family.”

 

“We are,” Jordan said. “And having you be with them makes this so much easier. I know you’ll be happy.”

 

“I will. But I’ll be happier when we’re back together. Now kiss me and get going before that cop over there has a stroke!”

 

***

 

Jamie was sitting in the backyard, drinking a cup of coffee and reading a textbook when the back door opened and Ryan started down the steps. Glancing up, Jamie’s eyes opened wide and she gave Ryan a wolf whistle. “Whew! Did you have a date this morning?”

 

Grinning, Ryan stood on the grass and did a slow turn. “Just therapy. You like?”

 

Jamie let her eyes roam over her lover’s body, her pulse quickening a little as she took in the crisply ironed denim shirt that was only partially buttoned. A very snug tank top was visible, but not visible enough for Jamie to see what were surely braless breasts. The fact that she knew Ryan never wore a bra with the spandex top piqued her interest, and made her strain to see if she could get a peek at what she hoped were erect nipples.

 

The shirt was tucked into wheat-colored jeans that Jamie’d recently had custom tailored for her long-legged partner. They fit even better than Jamie had hoped, and she was glad that she’d lowered the measurements an inch in the waist and hips. Ryan still hadn’t gained back all of the weight she’d lost after the carjacking, but she finally looked healthy and fit. And the fact that she fills out that bra now, doesn’t hurt either.

 

The shiny, dark brown, ankle-length boots and leather belt made Ryan look fully put together—for the first time in quite a while. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, a plus, in Jamie’s opinion. It seemed like she’d had it in a ponytail or a braid ever since softball had started, and Jamie smiled when she saw the sun glinting off the raven strands, highlights leaping out at her.

 

“You look ravishing,” she finally uttered, her voice husky. “And that’s just what I’d like to do to you.”

 

Feigning insult, Ryan put her hands on her hips. “I finally dressed up for you and now you want to ruin it?”

 

Standing, Jamie closed the small distance between her and her partner. “We can’t get in sync. You’re dressed and I’m in my jammies.”

 

Ryan bent and kissed her tenderly, moving her lips slowly and gently over Jamie’s. “Mmm … you may be in your jammies, but you still took the time to brush your teeth. I can taste … something clean through the coffee.”

 

“Baking soda. I use the unflavored stuff when I’m gonna drink coffee. I can’t stand the taste of mint competing with my java.”

 

“How did I not know that? All these months and you’ve still got secrets.”

 

“Sure do.” Jamie took her hand. “Let’s go upstairs and I’ll show you another couple.”

 

Regretfully, Ryan stood her ground. “Can’t, baby; I wouldn’t be able to relax. I’ve got so much to do. Besides,” she looked at her watch, “don’t you have class in an hour?”

 

“Yeah, but I’d skip it to wrap my lips around you.” She sidled up to Ryan and started to nuzzle at her neck, interspersing teasing licks with sharp little bites. Her uninjured arm circled the jean clad waist, and she rubbed her face against Ryan’s breasts, feeling them move and shift with the pressure. “I’m a needy girl,” she murmured, grasping Ryan’s ass and sending a jolt of feeling through her partner.

 

“How needy are you?” Ryan purred. Her hands were roaming over Jamie’s back and sides, feeling the swells and dips of her muscles, her ribs expanding and contracting more quickly as her breathing sped up.

 

Sliding her foot between Ryan’s to give her better access, she pressed her center against Ryan’s leg, swirling her hips as she ground against her. “Very. It’s been forever,” she pouted dramatically.

 

Ryan had a very vivid memory of “congratulations on the Putnam/thank you for the game/let’s make up from our fight” sex on Tuesday, but she didn’t think that was relevant. If Jamie thought it had been too long, that was all that mattered. “Show me how needy you are,” she said, hearing that her own voice was now as deep and rough as Jamie’s.

 

Smoky green eyes met hers and Jamie pulled her down for a dazzling, dizzying series of kisses. By the time her lover paused, Ryan’s knees were weak, but she was supported by Jamie’s body—still astride and pressing against her leg. “Let’s go.” She quickly made for the stairs, a little shocked when Jamie impudently slid her hand right between her legs as she took the first step. But she didn’t try to dislodge it. It felt so good to have Jamie get bolder and more confident about her sexuality that Ryan wouldn’t have considered putting a damper on any of her playfulness.

 

As they reached the kitchen, Ryan turned and wrapped Jamie in her arms, kissing her with a nearly frantic passion. Jamie responded, holding on to Ryan as well as she could with one arm. Their bodies were pressed feverishly together, Ryan’s hands running through her hair, along her body, and back to her face, where they held her as gently as a china doll.

 

Panting, Jamie backed away. “Bed. Now.”

 

“Counter. Now.” In a flash, Jamie’s panties were on the floor, and her long T-shirt joined them a few seconds later—since Ryan was much more careful around her splint. She was lifted and settled on the cold granite, letting out a gasp that was captured by Ryan’s eager mouth. Again, Ryan was relentless in her assault upon Jamie’s lips, the soft skin on her throat, her flushed ears. Slowly, she worked her way down the willing body, finally gathering Jamie’s breasts in her hands and pressing them together firmly, where she worked at the rigid nipples with unflagging interest.

 

Jamie held on with her right arm, wishing desperately that she could grasp and hold her lover with her left as well. Ryan seemed to sense her need and she released her breasts and held her tightly, not missing a beat with her warm, wet mouth.

 

“That’s it,” Jamie urged. “Hold me tight. Hold me …”

 

Ryan followed her command, holding her firmly while her mouth moved further down her body. She grasped her hips in a nearly bruising grip and nuzzled between her legs, filling her lungs with the musky aroma of desire. Jamie’s legs spread immediately, welcoming Ryan with alacrity. Blindly reaching behind herself for a chair, Ryan’s foot found one and dragged it across the floor. She knelt on it, then sat back on her haunches to reach her prize.

 

As soon as Ryan’s mouth covered her, Jamie slid closer to the edge of the counter and lifted her legs until they rested on Ryan’s shoulders. She was braced on her good arm, her body contorted in a pose that would have been unimaginable if she weren’t shaking with desire. But the only sensation she felt was Ryan’s hot breath on her, and when that delectable tongue swiped along her from bottom to top, she cried out with need. She would have fallen if she’d moved her good arm, so she had to lie there, passively letting Ryan work her magic. Though she couldn’t move her arms, her hips were unrestrained, and Jamie swiveled and twitched them across the counter—trying to position herself to force Ryan to hit the magic spot.

 

Ryan knew exactly where Jamie’s hot spots were; she just wasn’t ready to probe them. Few things gave her more pleasure than watching and feeling Jamie’s body writhe under her touch, and she hated to bring the fun to a close any sooner than necessary. She lingered around Jamie’s opening, delicately inserting the tip of her tongue again and again, then swirling it around in a tiny circle.

 

Jamie thumped the counter with her splint, her moans music to Ryan’s ears. “Please,” she begged. “Please make me come.”

 

Ryan growled like a big cat protecting her kill.

 

“Please,” Jamie said again. “Come on, baby, do it!”

 

Placing a wet kiss on her lips, Ryan tilted her head, her mouth shining in the morning light. “Tell me what you need. Exactly what you need.” She loved to hear Jamie give voice to her desires; it always made her pulse quicken.

 

“My clit,” she begged. “Suck my clit. You know just how I like it.”

 

“Is that all?” Ryan asked innocently, slowly lowering her head while keeping her eyes locked on Jamie’s.

 

“No, no! Fingers! Put your fingers inside me. I need you inside me, baby. Inside!”

 

Grinning lustily, Ryan slid two fingers inside, pressing down, then spreading her fingers apart to give Jamie the pressure and the fullness she needed. As she elicited the deep, throaty moan that sent chills up her spine, she dipped her head and covered her lover’s clit, sucking gently but firmly. As soon as her tongue brushed across the tip, Jamie cried out and her body stiffened. She was completely still, save for the first spasm that rolled through her vulva, making Ryan smile. Another gentle swipe of the tongue sent Jamie over the edge, and she thrust her hips hard, pushing against Ryan’s hand as if she was trying to pull the talented fingers deep within herself.

 

Jamie’s body was expressing itself clearly, but her mouth was unable to form a single syllable . She slid down to let her upper body fully rest on the counter, her torso winding up in a remarkably uncomfortable-looking position.

 

Ryan stayed where she was, pressing tender kisses into the still-throbbing flesh, watching the moisture trickle from her unabated. While Jamie recovered, Ryan pressed her cheek against a thigh and took in a deep breath, feeling remarkably sated. She knew she was dripping wet and could come in a matter of moments, but she was satisfied—thoroughly satisfied. She got up and pushed the chair away, then wrapped her arms around Jamie, pulling her partner’s limp body into a sitting position.

 

Her head resting on Ryan’s shoulder, Jamie murmured, “The things you do to me …”

 

“The things you do to me,” Ryan said, laughing softly. “Watching your body respond and hearing you beg for what you need makes me so hot … it’s … unreal.”

 

“Take me upstairs. I’ve got plans for you. Big, big plans.”

 

Ryan turned her head and caught Jamie’s lips—licking, sucking, teasing them with her mouth and tongue. Jamie was moaning again, rubbing her breasts against Ryan, who somehow managed to stick to her agenda. “I have plans for you, sweetheart. You’re gonna get in the shower, get dressed, and go to class. Then I’m gonna clean up a little, change my undies, and get to work. I just have to.”

 

Jamie sat back and stared at her, unblinking. “You’re not serious.”

 

“Yeah, I am. I told you I had to get moving.”

 

“But … that was before we started to make love! Aren’t you turned on?”

 

“Heck yeah,” Ryan said, laughing. “But I’m happy. I had a lot of fun this morning, and I didn’t even have to take off my new pants!”

 

She looked very happy at her declaration, and Jamie, puzzled by her usually hair-trigger-response lover, could see that she was serious. “Did I pressure you, baby?”

 

“No, not a bit! If I really wasn’t into it, I would have told you. But I thought this would be a great way to start the day. I got to feel love and tenderness and passion—not a bad way to get the juices flowing.”

 

Jamie put her good arm around Ryan, and was helped off the counter. “Come on, hot stuff, let’s go rinse off some of these juices. I don’t want my whole class to know how I spent my morning.”

 

“They’d be jealous,” Ryan smirked. “I bet every guy and half of the girls wish they were in my shoes.”

 

“Yeah, that’s probably true,” Jamie said, humoring her partner. “But you’re the only one I want. Although, next time, I’d like your shoes and your pants and your shirt on the floor, rather than on your body.”

 

“That can be arranged. As a matter of fact,” she said, leading Jamie up the stairs, “I don’t have a thing on my agenda at about ten o’clock tonight.”

 

 “You’re on. Pencil me in, babe.”

 

***

 

After a somber lunch, Jordan took Mia to the airport for her late afternoon flight to SFO. Jordan was following the signs to short-term parking, but Mia said, “Just drop me off, Jordy. That’ll be easier for me.”

 

A quick glance showed Jordan that Mia’s mind was made up. Grumbling quietly, she did what Mia asked, pulling up in front of the terminal a few minutes later. She made one last try. “I’d like to go to the gate with you.”

 

“Too risky,” Mia said. She leaned over and kissed Jordan, ramping up the emotion until she heard her lover groan. Mia felt a little light-headed, but she managed to say, “I know I’m not strong enough to carry you from here, but if you came inside, it would be too tempting to grab you and drag you onto the plane with me.”

 

Her smile sad, Jordan’s gaze didn’t move from Mia’s eyes. “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too, and I’m gonna be thinking about you every minute.” With great care she smoothed Jordan’s hair into place, straightened her collar and the placket of her shirt. “But you, my Olympic beauty, have to concentrate on your game. I want you to be completely self-indulgent. Don’t think about anything other than your body, your game, and your team.”

 

The corner of Jordan’s mouth curled up in a half-smile. “You’ve gotta give me some time to think about you. I’m only human.”

 

“Okay.” Mia looked up. “You can think about me when you get into bed at night. You think about how nice it feels to be loved for being exactly who you are. Think about how we don’t have to be together to be connected. And that whenever you think about me, I’m thinking about you.” She slipped her arms around Jordan and kissed her again and again, their bodies pressed together, their lips feverishly seeking the sweet softness of each other’s mouth.

 

“I love you,” Jordan finally said, her voice thin and soft. “And I love Jamie and Ryan for loving you.”

 

“They love you too. We’re family.”

 

“We are,” Jordan said. “And having you with them makes this so much easier. I know you’ll be happy.”

 

“I will. But I’ll be happier when we’re back together. Now kiss me and get going, before that cop over there has a stroke!”

 

***

 

When Mia had spoken to Ryan the day before, Ryan said she wasn’t sure who’d be at the airport to meet her—but someone would. Mia found the O’Flaherty rule about having someone pick you up a little odd—not to mention inconvenient for them, but she had to admit it did make her feel like someone was very glad she was home.

 

She was fairly sure that she didn’t gasp aloud, but it was a near thing when she saw Conor standing by the gate. “Hi,” she said, feeling uncharacteristically shy. She wasn’t sure if she should hug him or not, but he resolved her dilemma by bending over and giving her a friendly, almost brotherly, hug.

 

“You look great!” he said, his big voice booming.

 

“Thanks. You look good too. I like your hair that way.”

 

He reached up and ran his hand through his unusually long hair. “Jamie’s got me going to the same place she and Ryan get their hair cut. The guy charges so much, I decided to wait as long as possible between haircuts. But I’m kinda getting used to it being longer. I think I’m gonna see how I like it as it grows.”

 

Mia looked at him quickly, not wanting to let him see her checking him out. He was, she had to admit, even better looking with longer hair. It was so black and thick that she was nearly drawn to running her hands through it—probably exactly what his dates would do. “Might as well let it grow now. One day you’ll get married and your wife will be in charge of it.”

 

“Right,” he said, laughing easily. “Jamie’s in charge of Ryan’s, Maggie’s in charge of Brendan’s. Heck, even Aunt Maeve changed the way Da cuts his.” He snapped off a quick look at Mia. “Yours is getting long, too.”

 

“Yeah. I don’t have a hairdresser in Colorado, so I let it grow. Jordan likes it longer, so I’m gonna do what you’re doing, see what happens. If it drives me nuts, I’ll cut it.”

 

“Have you had it long before?”

 

They were walking now, and Mia was feeling more comfortable with him by the minute. “Oh, yeah. Until college. It straightens out a little bit when it’s longer. But I had to braid it at night or it would have looked like a bird’s nest in the morning.”

 

“I think I’ll stop before mine gets that long,” Conor said thoughtfully. Then he shot Mia and look and grinned, and she gave him a playful slap.

 

“You’re in a good mood. What’s going on with you?”

 

“Nothin’ much. Ryan told me you were coming to town, and when she said your flight was after I finished work, I asked if I could pick you up.”

 

Her stomach flipped and Mia prayed he wouldn’t make a play for her. Deciding to get it over with if he was going to try and rekindle old feelings, she asked, “Why?”

 

He shifted her big bag from one shoulder to the other. “Two reasons. One—I like you; two—I wanted to apologize.”

 

“You do?”

 

“Yep. The last couple of times I saw you, I acted like a dick, and I wanted you to know I was sorry. You were always up front with me, but I acted like we were engaged or something. That was just … dickish,” he said, chuckling at his newly coined word.

 

They were crossing the street to the parking lot when she looked up at him. “What was up with that? I thought you were good with how things were between us.”

 

“I was,” he said, shrugging. “But that was when we both agreed we weren’t ready to settle down. When you settled down about two minutes later …” He raised an eyebrow and looked at her. “I don’t like to lose.”

 

“I don’t like to feel like a game,” she said, scowling at him while he opened her door. She got in and waited for him to join her.

 

He settled in and buckled his seatbelt. “You’re not a game. I just felt a little … played. If you had said you were ready to get serious, I would’ve been down for it. It pissed me off when I realized you were ready to get serious, you just didn’t want to get serious with me.”

 

She reached over and grasped his forearm, blinking when she felt how large it was compared to Jordan’s. “That’s not how it was. I can’t … I can’t explain it, Conor, but I wasn’t rejecting you. The timing was just bad for us. I think … no, I know … that pregnancy scare was kind of a deal breaker. It really freaked me out.”

 

“Me too,” he said. “But in a different way. It made me think I was ready to settle down; it made you wanna run away from anything that produced sperm.”

 

He gave her a half-smile, but she could see it was insincere. “No, it wasn’t sperm. The timing was just right with Jordan. I’m not into that ‘there’s only one person that can make you happy’ stuff. But I do think you’ve gotta have some luck to have things click.”

 

“And you and Jordan click.”

 

“Totally,” she said emphatically. “If I could, I’d marry her.” He turned to her and she could see the muscles in his jaw loosen, then his mouth break into a smile.

 

“I’m happy for you … both of you.”

 

Their eyes met and she could see the sincerity in his blue eyes. “Thanks. It feels fantastic, Conor. I’d always tried to avoid getting too involved. But with Jordan—I don’t have an option.”

 

He put the key in the ignition and turned the engine over. “So, being a lesbian must be the right fit for you.”

 

“Don’t go nuts on me,” she said, laughing. “I love Jordan, but I’m not a lesbian.”

 

His eyebrow rose again, and Mia was struck by the remarkable resemblance between him and Ryan. “I mean it. It’s not an issue—since I plan on being with Jordan forever, but I don’t feel gay; never have.”

 

Conor gave her a puzzled glance, then backed his truck out of the parking space. “Okay. I don’t get it—but it’s your life. You should know.”

 

“I do,” she said. “It’s just hard to explain to people who think there are just two ways to be: gay and straight.”

 

“There are only two in my book,” he said. “The first time I check out a guy’s ass—I’m gay.”

 

“Not even in the locker room at the gym?” Mia taunted. “At the urinal?”

 

Conor shrugged. “I’ve looked. But just for comparison. I’m always worried about a guy who won’t look any lower than my head. It’s weird when a guy’s really careful not to look. Always makes me think he wants to look, but knows he won’t be able to stop. It’s funny,” he said, giving the matter some thought. “It’s having a guy look at your ass that creeps you out. Every guy wants to know how big another guy’s dick is. That’s normal. But if a guy’s looking at my ass—that’s gay.”

 

“Fascinating,” Mia said. “Just fascinating. Do many guys look at your ass?”

 

“Yeeeeeeah,” he said, blushing a little bit. “More than I like to admit. Ryan says I look just gay enough to make guys think I’m in the club.”

 

“Huh.” Mia sat sideways in her seat and looked him over. “You look straight to me. But you are a little … clean for a straight guy.”

 

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Ryan says I care too much about how I look to be straight.”

 

Mia giggled. “It doesn’t bother you to talk about this?”

 

He gave her a puzzled glance. “Why would it?”

 

“I don’t know. Most guys wouldn’t like to admit that they look a little gay.”

 

“It’ll bother me when more men than women check me out. Until then … the boys can look all they want. Just don’t touch the merchandise.”

 

“Has anyone ever tried?”

 

“To touch me?” he asked, his voice rising.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Hell no! I’d clock a guy who tried it!”

 

Mia sat up straighter in her seat. “Would you really? You’d bash a gay man?”

 

Looking to see if she was kidding, he said, “Bash? It’s not bashing if he grabs you! What would you do if a guy grabbed your ass?”

 

“Probably try to knee him in the crotch,” she admitted.

 

“I rest my case. Men are dogs. Doesn’t matter if they’re gay or straight. Give ’em an inch—”

 

“And they’ll grab your ass,” Mia said, finishing his observation. “I guess I never thought of it like that. But you have a point.”

 

“It doesn’t bother me if a guy politely checks me out. I give him a ‘not interested’ look and that’s the end of it. But if some jerk ever got aggressive with me—lights out! You gotta draw the line somewhere.”

 

“What if a woman tried to grab your ass?”

 

He smiled at her, his sexy grin in place. “I have a double standard. I’d allow that. How about you?”

 

“Mmm … I probably would too. Or at least I would have before Jordan.”

 

His grin remained. “Good thing you’re not gay.” He winced when she slapped his bare arm, and they teased each other all the way to Berkeley.

 

***

 

Jamie and Catherine sat in traffic on the 101 freeway, waiting to exit near The Mission. “Do you think the cousins will consider a building outside their neighborhood?” Catherine asked.

 

“I don’t think they much care where it is, so long as they don’t have to drive too far to work on it.”

 

“This one sounds promising. Did you bring your little camera?”

 

“Yep.” Jamie nodded to where it laid on the back seat. “You might have to take the pictures, though. I don’t think I can do it with one hand.”

 

“How’s your arm feeling, honey?”

 

“Not too bad I elevate it and that helps. I don’t think about it much unless I try to use my arm and find that it doesn’t bend.”

 

“I’m more than happy to take pictures if the building merits it.” Catherine frowned. “Are we close?”

 

“Yeah.” They’d exited the freeway and were slowly cruising down Dolores, and Jamie said, “There it is. Chula Lane.”

 

Catherine turned left and slowed down, looking for a place to park. “I’d better find something on Dolores; the smaller streets never have anything.”

 

Jamie agreed, and a few minutes later they were blessed by the parking gods. Walking together down the street, Jamie stopped at Chula Lane and looked around. “Not bad,” she said. “It goes through to Church, but it’s not as busy as 17^th or 18^th.”

 

Catherine smiled at her daughter. “A year ago I wouldn’t have believed we’d be walking around this neighborhood looking at apartment buildings.”

 

Grinning, Jamie said, “It would have been a stretch, wouldn’t it? I remember the first time I drove to Ryan’s. I was going through The Mission thinking, ‘How am I gonna be polite if she lives over some little taco stand?’”

 

“Dear,” Catherine said fondly, “you wouldn’t have noticed. Tacos would have become your favorite food.”

 

Jamie nodded her head, a little embarrassed. “I guess I was a little dreamy-eyed.”

 

Linking their arms together, Catherine said, “I wish I had known what you were going through then. It would have been nice to share that with you.”

 

“Mmm … I wasn’t much for sharing then; wish I could have been. But I was as clueless as it’s possible to be.”

 

“You’ve done well for yourself in a year. I always knew you could master anything you put your mind to.”

 

Jamie leaned over and kissed her mother on the cheek. “You helped me a lot, Mom. Without your support … I don’t even wanna think what I might have done if you’d let Daddy speak for both of you.”

 

“You know,” Catherine said thoughtfully, “even though it led to the breakup of my marriage, I’m very glad I’m learning to stand up for myself.”

 

“And for me,” Jamie said. “That’s what made me see how much you loved me.”

 

Her smile was so wide her eyes nearly closed. “I do love you,” Catherine said. “I always have. I’m so happy that I’m your mother.”

 

“We’re both coming into our own, Mom. The Evans … uhm … we’re doing well.”

 

In a moment Catherine’s smile was gone, replaced by a look of deep concern. “You don’t like that I’m changing my name, do you?”

 

“No. But I’d probably do the same thing if I were in your position. I understand why you don’t want Daddy’s name any more.”

 

Catherine stopped, grasping Jamie’s arm to slow her down. “That’s not why I’ve done this. Your father and his name had almost nothing to do with this, dear.”

 

“Then what did?” Jamie’s chin was sticking out, and that didn’t make her look very open-minded.

 

“I truly wanted to honor my great-grandmother. I didn’t just want to return to my maiden name, because I wasn’t much of a person when I was that young woman. I chose this name to help me have a role model. I don’t want to be known as Senator Evans’ ex-wife, nut it’s his notoriety I don’t want to be associated with, not the man.”

 

Jamie forced a smile. “Okay. I’ll try to think about it from that perspective.”

 

Catherine nodded. “Let’s go see this apartment building.”

 

Ray was waiting for them. Jamie looked up and then said to the realtor, “Why would anyone put those nasty shingles on a building?”

 

Smiling, Ray said, “People didn’t want these old buildings to look old. This was the craze in the 40s and 50s.”

 

“Hmm … can they be taken off?”

 

“Sure. Anything can be taken off. But they’re probably asbestos. That’ll cost a bit.”

 

Jamie handed Catherine her camera. “Take a picture of this lovely green building, will you?”

 

They spent about half an hour looking at the interior, and even though it took a lot of imagination, they all agreed that it belonged in the possible category.

 

Jamie took her phone out and called Niall. “Hi,” she said, “Mom and I just looked at the three flat on Chula Lane. It’s a dump, but it’s a reasonably priced dump.”

 

“Now what?”

 

“Uhm … that’s why I’m calling you. Would you like to take a look?”

 

“I could. But I’m not in charge.”

 

Rolling her eyes, Jamie said, “I took pictures. I’ll show them to all of you and see what you think. How’s that?”

 

“Good. Good. See ya.”

 

Jamie looked at her mother. “Being the real estate agent for the O’Flaherty cousins is a little tougher than I thought it would be.”

 

Back in the car, Jamie said, “Do you have time to stop at Kinko’s?”

 

“Of course. For what?”

 

“I’m gonna print these pictures and drop them off at each house. Then I’m gonna tell them to go look at the outside and let me know if they want to schedule a visit. I can’t make the decision for them … at least not so they notice.”

 

Continued in Part Seven