Awakenings - SF1 (30 page)

"Yeah, I like that idea a lot. That one feels right" Carrie said confidently.

"But there is one thing I want you to remember," Jamie said firmly. "Are you listening?"

"Yeah, I'm listening," Carrie replied seriously.

"Having feelings for another woman does not make you a lesbian. Acting on those feelings with one woman, or several women doesn't make you a lesbian. Your sexual orientation might not be clear to you until you're in your 20's or even later. Nothing that you do now has to be permanent. You're still developing your sexuality; so let yourself develop at your own pace. Got it?"

"Got it. Thanks a lot!"

Jamie hung up and looked over at a beaming Ryan. "Jamie," she asked ingenuously, "Do you think I'm a lesbian?" she said as she batted her eyes.

"No, I think you are a brat!"

They took another short break for Ryan to heap compliments on her blushing friend. "I can't believe what a good job you did!" she enthused. "You were right there with her. I know you reached her and your advice was so perfect!"

Jamie beamed at these heartfelt compliments. "I must admit, our class has really helped me see sexuality in much broader terms than I did before. When I was her age I would have thought that having feelings for a woman would brand me forever. Now I know it doesn't."

Ryan looked right into Jamie's green eyes with a quizzical expression as she cocked her head slightly. Jamie felt completely exposed as she imagined that her friend saw all of her secrets. Ryan looked like she wanted to ask a question but Jamie quickly looked away and said brightly, "Let's go do another!"

"Gay and Lesbian Teen Talk Line, this is Jamie. How can I help you?"

"Hi, this is Star. I've started having sex with my boyfriend and another chick and I don't know how to make sure we have safe sex. Is it okay to go down on her after he comes inside her?"

Jamie sat with her mouth slightly open and a completely stunned expression on her face. She felt the phone being taken from her hand and heard Ryan answer smoothly, "No, Star. You can't safely do that. HIV and other sexually transmitted diseases can infect his semen. Whether it's in his penis or her vagina, it's just as dangerous."

"What can I do to her?" she asked.

"HIV is found in semen and blood and vaginal secretions. The safest thing to do is to use a barrier between her vagina and your mouth. You can get free latex barriers called dental dams at the Free Clinic. If you get caught in a bind and can't get a dental dam you can cut open a condom. A lot of women really like how it feels, too."

"Yeah, right," she scoffed.

Ryan's brow knit as she insisted. "That really is true, Star. I've been having sex with women for almost 6 years and I practice safer sex every single time. And I've got to tell you, I have a great time even with dental dams."

"But how great is the risk?" she insisted.

"It's impossible to say, Star. You'd have to know someone's complete sexual history and the sexual histories of all of their partners to know if you're safe. I have a lot of sex and I've never had an S.T.D. I figure that a little inconvenience is not as much trouble as sitting in a 4 hour line at the Free Clinic for penicillin shots."

"Okay," she relented. "That covers going down on her. What else can I do?"

Isn't that enough!!?
Jamie shouted to herself in indignation.

"Do you ever use sex toys inside each other?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah, sometimes. Is that cool?"

"Not unless you put a condom on each toy every time you use it. If you insert something into anyone take the condom off and put on a new one before you insert it into someone else. And never move a toy from your anus to your vagina without changing the condom. I assume you know that your boyfriend should be using a condom every time you put his penis inside your body."

"Even for blow jobs?" she asked incredulously.

"Even for blow jobs," Ryan replied gravely. "I know that guys don't want to do it, but it really can be dangerous not to. If you put just a dab of water based lubricant in the condom before you roll it on, it makes it feel better."

"What can I do without latex," she muttered.

"You don't need latex to touch each other with your hands and there are some great vibrators out there."

"What about kissing?" Star asked, clearly afraid that nothing was safe.

"Go for it," Ryan said. "There is a very small risk, but a girl's gotta have some fun," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

After the call Jamie hung her head. "I feel like Mary Poppins in a leather bar," she moaned. "I can't believe how little I know, or how little I've experienced," she admitted.

"Hey, Jamie, there's nothing wrong with taking sex seriously. I think it's really great that you found someone to be monogamous with. Don't be ashamed of that."

"I'm not ashamed. I just feel so naive. These kids are 4 or 5 years younger than me and they've done tons more than I have."

"So, the guys you've been with have been a little conservative. What's wrong with that?"

"Guy," Jamie corrected her, as she blushed.

"What do you mean?" Ryan asked tentatively.

"I've only had sex with one guy, just Jack. And I mean my definition of sex, not Carrie's," she laughed.

"I think that is adorable, Jamie", she replied sincerely. "He must really feel special that you share your sexuality with only him."

"I don't know if he feels really special. He wasn't particularly happy that I made him wait for so long. I think at times he would have preferred it if I was the town strumpet."

"How long did you make him wait, if I can ask?"

"Till this past summer," she replied with a bigger blush. "June 15 to be exact."

Ryan nodded her head and looked a little at a loss for words. Finally she merely uttered one, "Wow."

The rest of the night went very well. Jamie began to get over her hesitancy and she was even able to get through most of the calls without blushing. On the way back to her house she asked, "Latte' for the road?"

"Sure," Ryan replied easily. They stopped at Sufficient Grounds and found a small table near the window. "So," Ryan began, "Tell me how you're feeling."

"I feel pretty good.
I've really cranked up the calories and I think it's helping already. My stomach is back to normal so I think I'm ready to start working out again."

"I still want you to take tomorrow off," Ryan said firmly. "You need a few days to get your strength back after being as sick as you were."

"Okay, doc, I'll stay home and get your dinner ready," she said with a smile.

"Can I ask you something pretty personal?" Ryan asked tentatively.

"Sure, I don't have any secrets from you," she replied.

"Why were you so devastated when you thought you might be pregnant? I mean, I could see why if you weren't in love with the guy, but you are. And you're getting married in a year and a half. So what's up?"

Jamie sat in silence for a few minutes. She was obviously thinking so Ryan didn't interrupt. She finally looked up and said, "I'm not sure I know. But it felt absolutely horrible. I felt just like I would have when I was 16."

"That's kind of odd, don't you think?" Ryan continued. "I also wondered why you wouldn't tell Jack. Shouldn't he be involved?"

"I don't know," Jamie admitted. "It just didn't feel like something he could be helpful with. I mean I know he loves me but he's not very good at the emotional comfort thing. I think he would have been upset...probably with me...for having sex without a condom."

"Are you on the pill now?"

"Yeah. But I had trouble with the first two types I took. I got breakthrough bleeding with one and the other made me terribly nauseous. So I had to wait a month before I started this new one. Alison told me to use a condom during the transition but we got carried away once and he snuck up on me early in the morning the other time," she said as she looked down at the table in embarrassment.

Ryan slid her hand over and patted Jamie's. "I'm sorry if I'm prying. I'm just a little worried about you."

She gave her a broad smile and replied, "It's okay. I know I've got some issues that I have to work out with Jack. I guess I just want to make sure that we don't start our family until we get them resolved. I think we have quite a few years of growing up before we're ready."

"I think you're awfully mature for a 20 year old," Ryan revealed. "But having kids is a whole new world."

Jamie rushed home after her morning classes and dove into her work. She didn't cook elaborate meals very often, but she really enjoyed doing so when she got the chance. She actually enjoyed making something difficult a lot more than just making an ordinary dinner, especially when she was feeding someone who really enjoyed food...and she didn't know a soul who enjoyed eating more than Ryan.

Methodically, she assembled all of the ingredients that she would need. She placed them on the counter neatly and then organized all of her utensils. Next she got out her stainless steel pasta machine and began to make dough. Her mother had taken her to a tiny little restaurant in Bologna where she had the most extraordinary lasagna imaginable. She was terribly pleased to find the recipe in an Italian cookbook and it was now the only kind of lasagna she would eat. Jamie remembered that they had used green noodles so she decided that she must also.

She began to clean the fresh spinach, and when she was finished she wilted it quickly. She took the wilted spinach and gently dried it as much as possible with a thin kitchen towel. After chopping it coarsely she set it aside.

Next she went to a small dedicated baking counter in the corner of the kitchen. The counter was made of a dark green marble and was set 4 inches lower than the rest of the counters. She mounded 1 1/2 cups of flour and scooped out a hollow in the center of it. She broke two eggs into the hollow and added the chopped spinach. She beat the eggs with a fork, as though making an omelet, for about a minute. She began to draw some of the flour over the eggs, just a little at a time, until the eggs were no longer runny. Discarding the fork she began to work the mass with her hands. She worked the dough until the ingredients felt fully integrated. After washing her hands again, she tested it by pressing her thumb firmly into the center of the mass. After her thumb came out clean, she put the dough aside and cleaned the work surface.

Now came her favorite part. Sprinkling a little flour on the marble she began to knead the dough. She pushed the mass forward with the palm of her right hand, then she folded it in half, gave it a half turn and repeated. She continued in this fashion, always turning in the same direction. After about 8 minutes of steady work the dough felt as smooth and supple as a babies' bottom.

Satisfied that the dough was perfect she clamped the heavy pasta machine to another part of the counter. After adjusting the rollers to their full width she inserted the handle. Then she cut the dough into 6 roughly equal parts. She rolled each little piece through the rollers, one piece at a time until all six had been slightly flattened. She then ran each strip through another two times, folding each in thirds after each pass through the machine.

She had cleared all of the counters and spread kitchen towels on them in preparation and now she lay each flattened strip on a separate towel. She closed the rollers a notch and repeated the entire operation until the towels were covered with very long very thin strips of green dough.

Now came the hard part. She stuck each strip into a large pot of boiling water for mere seconds, then scooped it out and dropped it into a bowl of ice water. After several strips were in the ice bath she removed them one at a time and ran cold water over them. Then she delicately wrung them dry, treating them rather like fine lingerie. She lay each strip back onto its respective towel to dry.

Well that was a quick 2 hours
, she thought as she looked at her watch. Ryan was coming over at 5 and she felt like she just had enough time to finish the lasagna and the desert and wrap a few little presents. But first she ate an apple and a few pieces of cheddar cheese, just as Dr. O'Flaherty had ordered.

She began to prepare a Béchamel sauce, slowly stirring the milk, butter and flour together until it was smooth and luxuriantly creamy.
Ohhh, that looks perfect!

Now she was ready to assemble. She took out a large enameled cast iron lasagna pan an
d smeared the bottom with the Bé
chamel sauce. She lined the bottom of the pan with a single layer of green noodles, cutting them to fit, edge to edge with just a tiny overlap. She took the warmed Bolognese meat sauce that she had prepared on Wednesday and mixed it in with the béchamel She then spread this mixture in a thin layer over the first layer of noodles, sprinkling it with a bit of grated Reggiano Parmesan to complete the first layer. She repeated this process until she had 9 layers of pasta and sauce. She had just enough sauce left to spread a thin layer on the topmost noodles. She again sprinkled Parmesan on the top and added a few thin pats of butter at various strategic locations.

She stood back to look at her creation with satisfaction.
Not bad for a WASP
, she thought with pride.

Now comes the true test of my prowess,
she thought. She put 6 egg yolks into the bowl of her Kitchen Aid mixer. She added 3/4 cup of granulated sugar and beat the yolks until they were a beautiful pale yellow and formed soft ribbons.

Next she put 2 cups of very fresh milk in a saucepan and added the peel of half of an orange. She heated the milk until it reached a slow simmer. She then added the hot milk to the eggs, running it through a fine strainer as she did so. She stopped periodically to run the mixer again, being careful to thoroughly beat the mixture together. Finally, she added a tablespoon of Grand Marnier, and stirred it well.

She put the whole mixture into a saucepan set on a medium flame and beat it with a whisk for a couple of minutes, making sure to not let it reach a boil. She took it off the heat and set it to chill in the refrigerator.

Her next task was to clean the enormous mess she had created. When she had done most of the dishes the custard was chilled. She put it into her electric ice cream maker to freeze and let the machine do all the work.

By now it was 4:45 and she knew Ryan would be on time. She flew around the house and assembled her wrapping paper, tape and scissors. The last little gift was just barely finished when the bell rang. As she dashed over to the door she quickly hid the small presents and ran her hands through her hair to order it.

She was greeted by a broadly smiling Ryan who leaned over to give her a hug. They had recently begun to hug each other when they hadn't seen each other for a few days. Jamie felt very comfortable with the increased intimacy, and found that she missed the contact on the rare occasions Ryan didn't offer it. She was a bit surprised today only because they had seen each other earlier at class.

"You certainly look happy," she told the beaming face.

"You are cooking, aren't you?" she asked logically.

"Yes, I most certainly am," she replied.

"Then I am most certainly happy," she stated with an even bigger grin. She leaned over again and gently brushed her thumb across Jamie's cheek a few times. Holding her hand up close to her eyes she nodded her head and thoughtfully said, "Flour."

"I get a little wild when I cook. God knows what's hiding in my hair!"
God, one smile from her and I would cook like this every day. The world is lucky that she uses that smile for good, and not evil.

"It smells very good in here," Ryan stated as she twitched her nose reflectively. "I smell something sweet. Do I get dessert, too?"

"Yes, you get dessert, too. I don't believe in making a partial thank you dinner."

"Far be it from me to turn down a special meal, but you don't owe me any thanks, Jamie," she stated sincerely. "We're friends, and I take my friendships very seriously. You were really out of it on Tuesday and I felt responsible for you. I know you would do the same for me."

"Well, conceptually you are right, Ryan. But I was thinking about that night and I don't remember walking on my own volition at any time after that phone call."

"You walked to the car, but I had to carry you in."

"And did you not also carry me up that huge staircase?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah, I had to. You were about to go out again and I couldn't leave you on that little sofa. I was afraid you would fall and hurt yourself. I thought your bed would protect you better."

"Okay, now let's switch roles. Where would we be if you had passed out that night?"

"Um, still lying on the floor of the building, I guess," she admitted with a twinkle in her eyes. "It would take two men and a strong boy to pick me up."

"My point exactly. My spirit would be willing, but my flesh is weak. So the bottom line is that I'm very thankful not only for your friendship, but your big muscles are awfully nice to have around too."

"So you're just replenishing all of the calories I expended, huh? I guess that does seem fair," she grinned. "I will admit though, I wished we had the Range Rover that night."

"Why's that?" Jamie asked, a trifle confused.

"I had to power you up from a deep squat to get you out of the car. I'm gonna have to do some more work on my quads if I'm going to continue to pick you up off the floor," she teased as she slapped her ample thigh muscles.

"Maybe you shouldn't try to get my weight back up. It might be to your detriment."

"I think I would rather make sure you don't get that stressed out that badly again," she replied as she slipped her arm around Jamie, and they wandered into the kitchen together.

Ryan offered to help with the last of the dinner preparations. Jamie set her to work on setting the table and choosing some music. Ryan bustled around the large kitchen, finding out for herself where everything was kept. She was just about finished when Jamie asked," How do you feel about anchovies?"

"I feel very kindly toward them, so long as they lie still while they're being eaten," she replied with a laugh. She walked up behind Jamie and enthused, "Ooooh, Caesar salad, my favorite."

"Ryan, I swear that almost everything you eat is your favorite," she admonished her.

"Well it is," Ryan gamely defended herself. "I have tons of favorites, but what I choose to eat at any particular time becomes my favorite. Caesar salad is my favorite Italian style salad, particularly when served with anchovies and followed by lasagna."

Jamie gave her a narrowed glance as she asked, "How much time do you spend thinking about food?"

"A lot," she admitted. "Okay, a whole lot," she amended when she caught Jamie's dubious glance. "Food really is the highlight of most of my days. An hour or so before lunch I start thinking about what I will have. I do the same at dinner. It really gives me a great deal of pleasure."

"I guess the pressure is really on me to perform then, huh?" Jamie asked.

"Nope. Not at all. You get tons of points for the effort even if the execution isn't perfect. Where do you get your recipe for lasagna, anyway? Is it a family secret?"

"I come from a family of diners, not cooks. My mother could probably make a peanut butter sandwich, but I've never actually seen her do so," she admitted. "And come to think of it, I'm certain she would never eat peanut butter, so it really would be a lost exercise."

"Are you really being serious?" Ryan asked as she stopped in the middle of the kitchen and stared, absolutely dumbfounded.

"Completely," Jamie replied. "I have never eaten a meal that my mother prepared for me. Come to think of it, I wasn't even breast fed," she laughed.

"Not even tea and toast when you were sick?" Ryan asked.

"Nope. I had a nanny who took care of me when I was sick. My mother didn't really get involved in the day to day caretaker stuff."

"God, Jamie, I find that so hard to believe!" Ryan was truly shocked.

"Well, it's true. Our relationship has always been friendly and pleasant enough, but distant. She traveled and spent time on her hobbies, but child rearing wasn't really one of them," she admitted.

Friendly?? Pleasant?? What kind of words are those to use for your relationship with your mother?!
"So how did you learn to cook?" Ryan asked, trying to change the depressing subject.

"We had a great cook, named Marta. She's still with us as a matter of fact. She's from Spain but she can cook anything. She does a lot of Northern Italian cuisine because that's my mother's favorite. But she can also do classical French and some great spicy Spanish dishes for my father and me."

"Did you just watch and learn?"

"No, she was a really good teacher. She knew I was interested and she spent a lot of time with me, teaching me the fundamentals. My mother found it odd that I wanted to spend my time chopping vegetables into julienne, but she didn't mind much as long as I was entertained. Actually, Marta was one of the best teachers I ever had. She didn't have any children and we spent a ton of time together just talking and hanging out."

Ryan was enormously saddened to hear her friend speak of this emotionless upbringing. The thought of young Jamie having to get her parenting from the hired help was just too much to consider. She tried to change the subject again. "So, you know my favorite food, what's yours?"

Jamie turned thoughtful as she finished tossing the Caesar salad. "I think my favorite is a good steak and pomes frites from a French bistro. I have had some extraordinary meals at Chez Panisse," she named a local Berkeley institution. "Have you been there?"

"No, but Conor has. He said he liked it, but the portions weren't big enough. Not that that is surprising!" she laughed.