Osmosis Read online

  Osmosis

  Part One

  “Hmm hmm hmm hmm, hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm—”

  “What are you humming?”

  “Are you awake, baby?” Jamie Evans moved the thick, dark hair aside and kissed the nape of her lover’s neck. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  “Huh-uh. I can feel when you start to wake up. It’s automatic.” Ryan O’Flaherty rolled onto her back and wrapped Jamie in a loose embrace. “We’re on the same wavelength.”

  Jamie smiled at her and kissed the tip of her nose. “Sail Away.”

  “Uhm … okay. Can I take a shower first?”

  “That’s what I was humming.”

  “Ooo. Sing it for me. Sounds pretty.”

  “I don’t know all the words. But I was singing the bit I do know all night long. Do you ever do that?”

  “Uh-huh. Especially if I hear something right before I go to bed.”

  “I didn’t hear this, but it’s appropriate. I think it came to me because of our … whatever we had last night.”

  She could feel Ryan’s body grow tense, and Jamie winced at the reaction. “I had a nuclear meltdown,” Ryan said flatly. “My best friend on the team thinks I beat you, and we have to pay for a new chair that we’ll never sit in. And if you tell me how much the hotel’s gonna charge you for the chair, I’ll probably have another fit.”

  Jamie began to gently rub Ryan’s belly, an act that usually served to relax her. But it didn’t take long to see the technique wasn’t working today. “You didn’t have a fit or a meltdown. Well, maybe you had a meltdown, but it was a good one.”

  Ryan’s voice was nearly a growl. “Meltdowns aren’t good.”

  “If they melt down some of the barriers you’ve been putting up they can be very good.”

  Her tone filled with self-loathing, Ryan asked, “Is that why you’ve got a song about sailing away from me in your head?”

  Lifting up on one elbow, Jamie reached out and grasped Ryan’s chin with her free hand, forcing their eyes to meet. “Don’t go to that dark place again. I’m not thinking about getting away from you. I was thinking about how it feels after a storm.” Her eyes were fiery when she said, “Stay with me. We were in a good place when we went to sleep. Don’t let that go.”

  Ryan blinked slowly, then nodded almost imperceptibly. “Sorry. My new baseline is self-hatred.”

  “I know that, honey, and that’s something you have to work through. But I’m not gonna participate in it any more. I don’t hate one thing about you. Not one thing.”

  “I find that hard to believe. I’m not the same person I was when we met. It only makes sense that you’d feel different about me.”

  She spent a few moments letting Ryan’s words really sink in, then spent a few more thinking of her response. The delay made Ryan’s body become even more rigid, but Jamie didn’t rush to reassure her. She’d learned that her opinion about Ryan wasn’t what mattered. It was Ryan’s opinion of herself that was the crux of the problem. “Do you wanna hear the unvarnished truth?”

  Eyes wide, Ryan looked at her, and Jamie could see the child-like fright glowing in her eyes. “Yeah.”

  “I don’t feel the same way I did when we met.”

  Ryan’s eyes closed for a second, and Jamie was fairly sure she was holding back tears.

  Jamie continued. “I didn’t know you well, and I only had the image you project to work with. I thought you were pretty and cool and smart and amazingly self-confident. No, more than that … self-involved.”

  A derisive laugh echoed through the room. “Had you fooled.”

  “Yeah,” Jamie said softly. “You did. You’re not self-involved at all.”

  Ryan’s head turned sharply and she searched Jamie’s eyes. “What’s that mean?”

  “It means what it sounds like. You care much more about everyone else than you do yourself. That’s part of the reason you’re such a good partner. But it’s also part of the reason you get so down on yourself.”

  “I only get down on myself when I deserve it,” Ryan muttered.

  Jamie lay back down, knowing this would take a while. “Fine. Tell me why you deserve to be treated so poorly. What terrible thing have you done?”

  Sighing, Ryan said, “I haven’t done anything terrible. I’m just not myself. I’ve lost my confidence and I’m not as self-sufficient as I used to be. I don’t even feel … sexy any more. I just feel … hollow.”

  “You’re not always like that,” Jamie reminded her. “You forget the good days when you have a bad one. And you forget the happy ending when you have a bad beginning. Yes, you threw a fit yesterday, but we had such a nice time after you cleared some of that muck out of your head. But you wake up today and can only think about the beginning.”

  “I acted like an asshole!” Ryan’s voice bounced off the walls, and Jamie was afraid the neighbors would hear her again. “How can you ignore the facts?”

  Jamie sat up and rested her elbows on her knees, her repositioning giving her a few seconds to think of her reply. “I don’t ignore the facts. You’re the one who has a selective memory.”

  Ryan blinked at her, obviously unaccustomed to being spoken to so frankly.

  “We agreed to be more vulnerable. I rushed things by telling you something I was deeply ashamed of. I hit you below the belt, baby, and I never should have done that. I don’t have a reason in the world for worrying about your being faithful, and last night wasn’t the time to tell you about my baseless fears.”

  “It was on your mind. You should be able to tell me anything on your mind and not be worried about my breaking a chair into kindling.”

  “Fine. Let’s agree to disagree on that. But after you vented we had a good talk and we resolved some things. But now you act like that last part didn’t happen. That’s your selective memory. You hold onto the bad things and let the good things fly right out of your mind.”

  “It’s …” Ryan roughly rubbed her face with her hands. “It’s like an earthquake. If something gets high enough on the Richter scale it sticks with me. That tantrum last night was about a 7.0. You don’t forget 7.0’s very quickly.”

  “You can forget them, Ryan. Especially if you don’t feel like you created them. You’ve got to learn how to let go of things, baby. You just have to.”

  “Easier said than done.”

  “I know. But you can learn how. Therapy can help.”

  “Ugh. I truly hate therapy. It’s like paying someone to hit you with a switch.”

  “That’s a matter of perspective. I agree that it’s hard sometimes, but it’s also freeing. At least it can be—if you’re honest and talk about things before they explode on you.”

  Ryan fidgeted a little, and her voice was tense when she said, “I told you I’d go. See if Anna has any ideas of who to go to. But if I go to see someone on my own, I’m quitting the group. I can’t take three hours of being stretched on the rack.”

  Jamie laughed softly. “If someone convinced you that being stretched on a rack would make you faster or stronger you’d do it in a second!”

  “Well, yeah. But nothing good happens in therapy.”

  Jamie blew out a breath and grumbled. “I’m gonna act like you’re kidding. Then I won’t have to slap you.”

  Wrapping her in a hug, Ryan said, “I was. Sorta.”

  ‘That’s what I thought. It’s the sorta that freaks me out. But I know you’ll give it your best. You always do.”

  Ryan maneuvered her hand to take a peek at her watch. “I’d better get shakin’. Breakfast starts in ten minutes.”

  “Don’t you wanna hear the lyrics I was singing?”

  “Oh! Sure. Can you sing the song?”

  “No. I just know little pieces. But the lines I kept singing were, ‘We’ll glide ov
er tears, the saltiest sea, beyond all our fears back to you and me. After the darkness, after the gray and into the sun we shall sail away. Yes, into the sun we shall sail away.’”

  Ryan looked up at her face, then slowly traced her features with a finger. “You have such a pretty voice. I could listen to you sing for hours.”

  Looking a little embarrassed, Jamie said, “Uhm … thanks. I don’t sing as well as you do, so I’m always a little hesitant.”

  “Who’s the idiot who says you don’t sing well?”

  “Uhm … me?”

  “Ha! I’d say you had a tin ear, but if you did you couldn’t sing well. So we’ll have to chalk this up to a lack of self-confidence. You’d better talk about this in therapy!”

  “God, you’re funny,” Jamie said, not breaking a smile.

  “You think you can hold out. But I can make you smile.”

  “Can not.”

  Ryan pushed her down and climbed on top of her, then set about making the most ridiculous faces Jamie had ever seen. She managed to contort her lovely face into some configurations that would have made Caitlin cry, and it didn’t take many of them to make Jamie smile, then laugh. “Stop! I’m gonna have nightmares!”

  “Kiss me,” Ryan said, her mouth at a strange angle and her nostrils flaring.

  “No way! Get that ugly mug away from me!”

  “Come on, kiss me!” Ryan burrowed underneath Jamie’s hands, getting to her chin, where she delivered some wet, sloppy kisses.

  “Ahh! Gross!”

  “Come on,” Ryan said, sliding off Jamie to get to her feet. “I’ll wash the slobber off you.”

  “You’re worse than Duffy!” Jamie wiped at her wet face with both hands.

  “Gruuuuuf!”

  Ryan bent over and started to snuffle at various spots on Jamie’s naked body, sending the giggling woman towards the safety of the bathroom. “Get that wet muzzle off me!”

  Grabbing her just before she reached the door, Ryan trapped one of Jamie’s thighs between her own and started to hump her, looking just like Duffy did when he caught a weaker dog and wanted to show him he was dominant.

  “Stop humping me!” Jamie shouted, trying to wriggle out of Ryan’s grasp.

  There was a quiet knock on the door and Jamie gave Ryan a murderous look. “If that’s security …” She went into the bathroom and grabbed a towel, wrapping herself in it. Looking out the peephole, she saw Jackie, once again looking uncomfortable. Opening the door, she smiled and theatrically said, “Yes?”

  “Uhm … breakfast?”

  “We’re just getting in the shower.”

  “Okay. Tell Ryan I’ll see her downstairs. Coach wants us there on time.” She looked down for a second, then shyly met Jamie’s eyes. “Everything okay? I heard some noises.”

  Ryan’s voice called out, “If you’re gonna come investigate every time Jamie squeals, you’d better just stay in our room.”

  “No thanks!” Jackie said, looking relieved. “I don’t know what you people do to each other, but I don’t think my heart could take it.”

  “Don’t rush to judgment,” Ryan said, “Jamie used to be on your team.”

  Jackie looked surprised. “Really?” She looked to Jamie for confirmation.

  “Yeah. It’s been just about a year since I went over to the dark side.”

  “Wow, you must’ve caught on quick.”

  “She’s a natural,” Ryan called out. “Now close the damned door so we can get a shower!”

  “See you downstairs, O. And hurry up!”

  Jamie closed the door and went into the bathroom where Ryan was adjusting the shower. “You’re being very playful today. I thought you might feel uncomfortable around Jackie.”

  “I do,” Ryan said. “But that’s how I get over it … with jocks.”

  Ryan was in such a vulnerable position that Jamie couldn’t resist giving her butt a slap. “You know, I’m on a varsity sport, too. Why don’t you treat me like a jock?”

  “I could, but I don’t think you’d like it. Lots of towel snapping and wrapping you up in athletic tape and throwing you into a whirlpool filled with ice. Nothing very romantic.”

  Jamie wasn’t sure which of Ryan’s tales were accurate or heavily embellished, but she decided she wouldn’t care to be treated to an ice bath. “Okay. You can continue to think of me like a girl.”

  “Mmm,” Ryan said, popping a hard nipple into her mouth. “I like girls.”

  Mia Christopher sat at the table in her spacious, nearly empty kitchen, idly stirring her coffee while reading the San Francisco Chronicle. She’d finished breakfast—a bowl of the same health-saturated granola that Jordan ate before she left for practice. Like her partner, she’d added dates and a sliced banana; unlike Jordan, the addition of a few tablespoons of brown sugar made her actually like the stuff.

  She craved a latte, but had trained herself to settle for coffee. It wasn’t her favorite, but now that she didn’t have a charge card and a doting, bill-paying father, she was careful with her money. It was hard for her to justify a $4.00 latte for breakfast, especially since she’d have one later in the day if she went to her local espresso shrine to read. The latte tax was high, but she refused to be one of those people who took up a table and didn’t buy anything. So she nursed her coffee and tried not to feel a little ache of longing when she read that the Bay Area was shrouded with fog. A quick look out the window in the living room confirmed that the Colorado skies were crystal clear and saturated with blue.

  Realizing that she was perversely longing for foul weather, she got up and washed the few dishes they’d dirtied, then went into their bedroom and neatened it. There wasn’t much to do, since Jordan was preternaturally neat, and she’d almost unintentionally become so herself. Their room was so small that it looked awful with just a few things lying about, so she’d learned to put her clothing away when she took it off. This morning, all she had to do was smooth the duvet out and arrange their pillows. Once that task was finished, she went to shower and dress for the day. Looking at the clock on the sink, she blinked, having to confirm that it was, indeed, only 6:30 in the morning.

  It was fairly warm, so Mia dressed in a fleece top and jeans, adding her tall shearling boots. She’d found that their apartment was cool even when it was 60 degrees, so she’d taken to bundling up no matter the weather. Her favorite bookstore didn’t open until 10:00, and Jordan was due home a little after noon, so it didn’t seem worth it to venture out, even for that lusted-after latte. Besides, Jordan had taken her car, so she’d have to take a bus to the bookstore, and that seemed like far too much trouble. So she bunched up the pillows in the living room and made herself comfortable, then started to read a book that one of her professors had assigned as additional reading. It was the first time in her life that she’d done anything extra for any class, but she was determined to pull straight A’s her last term—just to show her parents that moving to Colorado hadn’t been a mistake.

  At 11:00 someone rang the doorbell. Mildly annoyed, Mia looked at the door, then went right back to her book. It took a while to get comfortable on the floor, and once she was in a good position she didn’t like to move. And she’d learned that the only visitors they ever received were magazine salespeople and the odd election worker. But the person at the door was determined, and after the bell had been rung three times she got up, cursing softly; ready to give whomever it was a lesson in manners.

  Peering out the peephole, she let out a gasp, sure that the person on the other side of the door was her mother. But that realization didn’t help her body, which was completely unsure of what to do. It wasn’t until Anna Lisa started to walk back down the stairs that Mia flung the door open. “Mom!” She ran down the few stairs and lunged for her mother, grabbing her recklessly and pinning her against the wrought-iron railing.

  Anna Lisa kissed her cheeks, murmuring, “My sweet girl.” They were both crying while they hugged and kissed each other repeatedly. Once the first flush of emotio
n had quelled, Mia pulled back and led her mother into the apartment. But instead of continuing their tearful reunion, Anna Lisa stopped abruptly and said, “Oh, my dear God, don’t tell me you’re living here!”

  Stung, Mia stepped away and glared at her mother. “Did you come here to bitch at me? You could do the same thing from Hillsborough … if you cared enough to call!” She started to turn and go to her room, but realized how silly that would be. This was her apartment, and if anyone were to leave, it would be her mother. Standing as tall as she could, Mia folded her arms over her chest. “You can stay if you treat me like a human. But if you’re gonna yell at me … go.” She emphasized her last word with as much cold disregard as she could manage, even though part of her wanted to run to her mother and lose herself in her embrace.

  “I wish I didn’t have to yell at you! I wish you’d act like an adult!” Anna Lisa looked around the bare room, her eyes roving over the drab pillows on the floor. “An adult wouldn’t live in some kind of … flop house!”

  Mia marched to the door and yanked it open. “Leave.”

  “What? You wouldn’t dare!”

  Mia steeled her nerves against the impulses that urged her to hold onto her mother and feel the love that she knew was hidden under the hurtful words. But she held firm. “Leave my house. You can’t come in here and insult me.”

  There was a firmness to her voice that clearly stunned Anna Lisa. She closed her mouth and didn’t even attempt to speak. There was a moment or two of electric silence, then Anna Lisa said, “I’m sorry.”

  Mia gaped at her, not able to remember her mother ever apologizing for anything. “Are you really?”

  Anna Lisa nodded. “Yes. I didn’t come this far to argue with you.” Her chin quivered, then her body began to shake. “I miss you so much,” she whimpered as tears began to flow again.

  Instantly, Mia was holding her, and they cried again, sniffling and wiping their eyes while they clung to each other. “Why do we fight like this? I hate it. I hate it!”

  “I do too.” Anna Lisa fumbled in her purse and found a packet of tissues. She wiped her eyes while Mia fished out a tissue for herself and did the same. “I can’t explain it, but I love you so much … that sometimes I can’t control myself. I have to make you come to your senses!”