Entwined - SF5 (28 page)

Giving her mother a very compassionate look, Jamie insisted, "You don’t have to do that either, Mother. You could really make a difference in people’s lives."

"Oh, Jamie, I’m not unhappy with my life," Catherine insisted, a touch too enthusiastically to be believed. "No, I’ve found my place in this world, and it suits me perfectly. I just don’t think it would suit you." She pasted on a bright smile and said, "Now back to your request. If you truly feel that you’re ready to start managing your own money, I have no problem with you taking your distribution now. Would you like me to talk to your father before I go?"

"No, I think I should do that myself," Jamie said. "I’ll try to patch things up with Daddy, and then talk to him about the distribution later. I’m not in a big rush."

"That’s fine, Dear," Catherine said. "Feel free to tell him that we’ve spoken already if that helps your cause."

What odd ways these people have of communicating
, Ryan thought.
It’s like they form little alliances. I hope to God we never fall into this…it would kill me to think our kids couldn’t talk to both of us together.

Both Jamie and Ryan looked like they were about to fall asleep by this time, and Catherine signaled the server for their bill. "I’m tired myself," she announced. "I think I’ll go stay at the apartment."

Warning bells went off in Ryan’s head, and she tried to think of a way to prevent Catherine from getting a very unwelcome surprise. "Is Jim staying in the city tonight?"

"Yes, Dear, he is. He said he had a conference call at three a.m. He often stays here when he has that type of thing to attend to."

"Does he know you’re coming?" Ryan asked, her mouth moving faster than her brain.

Catherine gave her a puzzled look, but answered anyway, "No, Dear, he doesn’t."

"You’d better call first," Ryan said, now forcing her brain to think of a reason why Catherine should call. Finally, it came to her, and she blurted out, "Jamie says he entertains clients there. You wouldn’t want to interrupt a business meeting."

Catherine’s puzzled look remained, but she nodded and fished in her purse for her small cell phone. "That’s a good idea, Ryan. Thank you for suggesting it." She speed dialed the number, waiting patiently for an answer. "Hello Jim," she said, obviously to an answering machine. "I thought I’d come stay at the apartment with you tonight. I’ll be over in a few…Oh, hello," she said, after Jim must have picked up. "No, no special reason. I was in the city having dinner with Jamie and Ryan, and I just thought…no, I understand, Dear. Don’t give it another thought. Will I see you tomorrow? Oh, I see," she said, her eyes betraying her disappointment. "Well, I suppose I’ll see you when I return from Rhode Island then. Take care, Dear. Goodnight."

Giving Ryan a half smile she placed the phone back into her purse. "Thanks for the suggestion, Ryan. He was involved in a meeting at his apartment. I’ll just head home."

"Are you sure, Mother? You could stay at the Palace." Jamie knew that the luxurious old hotel was one of her mother’s favorites, and she assumed that she might like to spend the evening there to avoid the long drive to Hillsborough.

"No, no, it’s no bother. I just thought it would be fun to stay in the city and see your father. He’s been gone so much lately, and with me leaving for Rhode Island…" She trailed off, looking sadder than Ryan could stand to see. "Oh well, we’ve had longer separations than a month," she said blithely. "It’s nothing in the greater scheme of things."

Please, oh please, never, ever let me say that about Jamie!
Ryan thought, as they all rose to fetch their cars.

The next morning, Ryan was too anxious to eat breakfast immediately, so they decided to head down to Union Street for a cup of coffee if they had time. Sitting outside on the warm summer day, Jamie couldn’t help but notice the lines of stress on Ryan’s face. She had her darkest sunglasses on, concealing her eyes, but small lines of tension were etched into her forehead, and an unusual tautness around her mouth revealed just how anxious she was.

"This is really tough for you, isn’t it?" she asked, her voice full of sympathy. Ryan’s hand was resting on the small metal café table, and Jamie covered it with her own.

"Yeah." Her head nodded slightly, a stoic mask covering her usually expressive features. "I’ve been upset about Sister’s role ever since Coach Ratzinger told me that she allowed me to be the sacrificial lamb, but what Father Pender told me is just too much."

"Were you close to her, Ryan?"

Jamie’s question was simple, and it merited a simple answer, but Ryan knew that she couldn’t give her one. "I’m not sure how to answer that, Jamie," she said quietly. "I really thought that I could rely on her, and I believed in her…it’s…it’s really hard for me to think she spread the rumors about me."

"Did you spend much time with her?" Jamie had spent a grand total of ten minutes with the headmaster of her prep school, and it puzzled her to think that Ryan would have had much of a relationship with this woman.

A small, wry laugh preceded Ryan’s reply. "Yeah…I’d say we spent more time together than she wished." At Jamie’s confused look, she continued. "You have to stop and think of who I was, and what my school was," she reminded her partner. "I was not from the poorest family, but I was definitely in the bottom five," she laughed. "Most of the girls were from very wealthy, very socially connected families, and in many ways I stuck out like a sore thumb. I mean, I wasn’t only working class, I was basically an immigrant."

Jamie laughed at this description, disputing its accuracy. "That’s a little strong, Honey."

"No it’s not," Ryan insisted. "I wasn’t who I am now, Jamie. I was raised in a very isolated, protected environment. All of my relatives are from Ireland, and in some ways, we really keep to ourselves, along with the other people from our neighborhood and our parish. I wasn’t exposed to much diversity. I was in Sister’s office every third day, asking her about one thing or another." Ryan’s face took on a sad look as she added, "Or crying about some bit of teasing or an unkind remark."

"You were teased because you didn’t have money?"

Ryan nodded. "Partly that, and partly because I just didn’t seem like the other kids. I mean, Jamie, you’ve got to remember that I spoke with an Irish accent, I didn’t watch MTV, I didn’t know any of the current songs…I really was like an immigrant."

Jamie shook her head, thinking of a young Ryan, struggling to fit in amongst her new classmates. "I don’t think I realized you spoke with an accent. I thought most kids spoke like their friends."

"Don’t forget that I spent every summer with my family in Ireland. I wanted to fit in over there, so I spoke like them when I was with them. It usually got less pronounced as the school year went on, but when I started at Sacred Heart I had just come back, and I’m sure I sounded like I just stepped off the boat."

"So this woman helped you through some of those hard times?" Jamie asked.

"Yeah. She really did. We kinda became buddies," Ryan said wistfully. "I trusted her."

Jamie knew that few things were as precious to Ryan as trust, and she also realized that few things wounded her more deeply than betrayal. "I’m sorry this is so hard for you, Ryan," she said softly, lacing their fingers together and giving Ryan’s hand a squeeze.

"I know you are, Honey. It really helps to have you here with me."

"Do you want me to go in with you to see her? Or would you feel more comfortable talking to her alone?"

Her dark head dropped a few degrees, and shy blue eyes peeked out through her long bangs. "Would you be willing to hang out in the library while I talk to her? I’d like you to be close in case I need you."

"Honey, I’d do anything for you, I hope you know that. I’ll stay as close to you as you need."

"That might make Sister a little uncomfortable," Ryan laughed. "I think the library is a safer bet."

As her fingers curled to rap upon the door of the office she had entered so many times, Ryan cast a puzzled glance down at the strong, defined hand of an adult. She shook her head briskly, reminding herself that she was no longer an innocent, young seventeen-year-old. Taking a breath, she knocked on the heavy wooden door, then heard the reply, "Come in."

Stepping into the room Ryan was again transported back six years, amazed that the office looked almost exactly like it had the last time she had entered, and that the woman she gazed at had changed just as little. With a smile she recalled her Aunt Maeve’s motto that: after sixty, change comes slowly to a woman’s face.

Sister Mary Magdalene was a good deal more than sixty, Ryan knew, guessing that her former principal was at least 75 years old now. She was past the usual retirement age even when Ryan was in school, but Ryan had never heard a soul say that she was too old for the job. She had been the principal at Sacred Heart for almost thirty years, and had taught biology for ten years before that--long enough to have been on the job when some of the current girls’ mothers or even grandmothers had been in attendance. Taking the school from the troubled days of the sixties up to the current time was an enormous accomplishment, Ryan knew, and even today Sister showed no signs of age getting the better of her. "Ryan," she said with genuine fondness, coming around to the side of her desk to grasp Ryan’s hand and squeeze her shoulder with her other hand. "It’s marvelous to see you." Her eyes reflected her pleasure, and Ryan couldn’t help but return her infectious smile.

When the older woman gestured towards a chair, Ryan sat down, finding that her posture was stiff in the rigid leather seat.

"That chair seems to have shrunk a bit, doesn’t it?" Sister laughed gently. "That’s odd, since mine seems to have grown." When Ryan gave her another studied glance, she noticed that Sister looked a bit smaller than she had six years ago. She still looked vital and healthy, but the signs of her age were a little more obvious now.

"I think you look great, Sister," Ryan said, meaning it sincerely.

The older woman folded her hands neatly on her desk, her pressed navy blue blazer exposing starched white cuffs. She had stopped wearing the traditional habit of her order almost 35 years earlier, but a navy blue or black suit with a below-the-knee skirt had taken its place immediately. The only real change to her attire was the elimination of the elaborate headpiece that she had worn as a young religious, and that was an item of clothing that she was more than glad to discard. "Your name has been popping up with startling frequency, Ryan," she said forthrightly. "I assumed I was next on your list of interviews."

Her directness startled Ryan, but when she thought about it for a moment, she realized that had always been Sister’s style. "So we can do away with the preliminaries?" she asked, just as directly.

"No, I don’t think that’s wise," she said. "First I want to apologize to you."

Ryan cocked her head, waiting for the older woman to continue.

"After I spoke with Ms. Ratzinger, I spent a good amount of time and prayer thinking about what had happened with you, Ryan, and I realized that my actions were wrong-headed and hurtful to you. I know it’s too late to make an impact now, but I want to admit to my failings. I’m truly sorry, Ryan," she said softly, making eye contact with her young visitor.

"Why did you do it, Sister?" she asked, desperate to find out why this once-trusted mentor had so badly betrayed her.

The older woman shook her head, thinking back to the time in question. "I wasn’t looking at the entire picture, Ryan. I allowed myself to look at the issue with a very narrow focus. To me, it was a group of girls who no longer trusted one another. Some very vocal people wanted you off that team, and I honestly thought it would be better for everyone concerned if you just walked away. I knew soccer was important to you, but I had no idea that the coach at Cal would withdraw her scholarship offer just because you didn’t play during your senior year. I just didn’t understand the gravity of the situation."

Ryan was shaking her head the entire time the older woman was talking. Her brow was furrowed and she seemed very impatient, finally speaking as soon as Sister finished her sentence. "I think I understand what happened about the team, Sister. What I want to know is why you told other people about what happened between Sara and me." Her eyes were glowing with a determined fire, and the older woman blinked slowly, startled by their white-hot intensity.

"Told…told…why, Ryan, I swear I told no one! I would never do that!"

This was the first time in Ryan’s history with the sister that she had ever seen her stunned. Her normal, implacable features were askew with the surprise she felt, and Ryan was quite disconcerted by the display. "Sister, that’s what everyone tells me. But then they think about it, and they remember that they told just one person that they thought was safe. Either someone else is lying to me, or you told someone."

The sister shook her head gravely, a determined look now filling her eyes. "No, Ryan. I told no one. I would never spread a rumor about a girl, particularly not someone I was so fond of. I admit I made a grievous mistake with you, but I did not betray you, Ryan."

"Then who did!!" Ryan was beyond frustration at this point, and her voice was much louder than she intended it to be. She scrubbed at her face with her hands, trying to get her mind around the ever-widening circles of lies or half-truths that someone was spinning.