One Degree of Separation (16 page)

Mug in hand, she plodded up the stairs to pick out clothes for the day. She was tempted to get back in bed, but she needed to be semi-alert at Hemma’s, and she hoped to get in an errand before then.

Thunderstorm weather. Highs in the nineties. Shorts, socks, the waterproof Jungle Mocs, a tank for the humidity, with an overshirt for the air conditioning. She sighed. Only the socks seemed to vary day-to-day. Still, she knew what she looked good in, and a new wardrobe wasn’t going to change a thing. If she threw out all of her khaki shorts, she’d replace them with khaki shorts. She was actually proud of the fact that her clothes were nowhere near the tweedy baggy sweaters, long skirts and tights that made up the usual librarian chic.

“You know, Trombone, I’ve never seen one of those makeover shows ever take on a short butch type with—” She poked herself.

“With a bit of a tummy. I think it’s because they know there’s no point. Not like a Dior gown is going to make me anything but a short butch type with a bit of a tummy. But I could get a haircut. Tomorrow for sure.”

She watched Trombone stretch her flexible feline spine and wished idly she could do the same. It sure looked like it felt good.

Perhaps she should take up yoga. Perhaps she should take up some form of exercise. Maybe exercise was better for sublimation than chocolate.

Inner Therapist reminded her that with Liddy she wouldn’t have to sublimate her sex drive. Liddy was single and available, unlike a certain woman with whom Marian was
never
going to have sex. Inner Slut insisted that sex was more crucial to life than chocolate.

That slutty little voice had nothing to do with why Marian was going to Hy-Vee so early on a Sunday for a bundle of flowers and a small box of pastries. Nothing at all.

The flower selection was a little thin. She finally selected a bundle of orange-tipped carnations with a showy pale pink lily the shade of Liddy’s nail polish. The pastries were harder to select. Liddy had had strawberry jam on her pancakes, but that was the only clue Marian had as to preferences. She settled for cream cheese buns topped with raspberries. Two fit perfectly in the smallest of the bakery boxes.

The greeting card aisle was her last stop and she pondered the right message. There weren’t any cards that said,
Can we do it like
rabbits and still be friends?
Not one read,
Ignore what I’m saying and
jump me, now!
There wasn’t even a cheerful
Sorry that we’ve had no
luck arranging for a happy fuck.
She did think
Forgive me, I’ve been a butthead
was okay except it featured a guy with a six-pack and a real butt for a head. Not her style.

Nothing she’d seen in Liddy’s house was Liddy’s, so that was no help. She’d mentioned Wyeth yesterday, but none of his paintings was featured. What was the world of greeting cards coming to?

When in doubt, she thought, stick with cute. A card featuring two little girls, one wearing most of a cake on her face while the other sobbed, was blank inside, so that would work if she could think what to write.

She heard her named called and looked up to see Sandy walking toward her. “Hey, how’s your dad?”

Sandy scratched her tousled hair sleepily. Marian had never seen her looking less than neatly combed and every bit of clothing pressed and tucked. “He’s doing okay. But everyone is worried because he’s getting weaker.” She shrugged.

“Honey, how about—oh. Hey, Marian.”

“Morning,” Marian said to Ellie. In spite of looking as sleepy and disheveled as Sandy, Ellie had a don’t-say-a-word look of warning on her face. “You two are up early,” she observed mildly.

Sandy colored. “I need jelly.” She hurried up the aisle. Marian realized then that she was wearing one of Ellie’s T-shirts.

“Don’t say it,” Ellie muttered. “Just don’t say it. We had dinner with her mom and when we got home it felt like old times and she’s afraid her dad’s gonna die and, well, we ... just don’t say it.”

“You’re both single.”

“And getting over each other. Like we needed more breakup sex. We had plenty of that.”

“Are you sure it’s breakup sex?”

Ellie’s eyes abruptly filled with tears. “It was too good not to be.”

“I’m sorry,” Marian said automatically.

Ellie shook her head, then studied the contents of Marian’s cart.

“Who are the flowers for? Pastries?”

“Just a sort of an ‘I’m sorry’ gift.”

“You had a fight with Fresh Meat—Liddy—already?

“Not exactly. I was not myself though.”

“Must be serious, given how early it is.”

“I’ve got to be at Hemma’s and Amy’s by ten, work at noon.”

“I see.”

Marian fought down a blush. She wasn’t the one who’d spent the night with her ex. “Tell you what, I won’t tease you if you won’t tease me.”

“That’s hardly fun.” Ellie had a masterful pout. “But okay. Deal. It’s about time you got over Robyn, that shit.”

“I suppose,” Marian murmured. She realized she’d never been closer to telling Ellie about Hemma. But she couldn’t do that standing in Hy-Vee. The sensation of being very alone and abandoned washed over her again. She felt like a defenseless child.

“Sandy was at least clear about us not being back together. Last night was just ... old times.”

Marian noticed the uncertainty in Ellie’s voice. “Good thing that’s all clear, huh?”

Ellie gave her a wounded look. “Stop, okay? I don’t know what I’m doing here. She can’t even find the apple butter. Look at her.”

“I never understood what was wrong, you know? And she’s just leaving us to talk.”

“I never understood it either,” Ellie admitted. “I just knew something wasn’t right. See ya later.”

Marian wrote the card while drinking a chilled Frappuccino, then drove to Deb’s old house. Liddy was likely not up, so she took care to turn off the engine as soon as she was in the driveway. On the porch, though, she hesitated. Liddy would leave by the back door now that she parked behind the house. Perhaps she should put it all on the back porch.

She picked her way as quietly as possible around the house and went stealthily up the rear steps. She set down the flowers and the pastry box and tucked the card inside the flowers. Satisfied, she gave the arrangement one last pat.

The door opened.

Liddy yelped, “Holy shit, you scared me!” Marian told herself to look up but her eyes did not want to stop gazing at Liddy’s ankles, her calves, knees ... thighs. It was a long, long journey to the hem of a faded T-shirt that was not quite long enough.

By the time she met Liddy’s gaze, she was certain her skin had invented a new shade of red. “Sorry, I just wanted to be sure you saw these.”

Liddy abruptly clutched the front of the T-shirt, pulling it down.

“I—what are they for?”

“I was rude yesterday. I thought—”

“Oh, hell, let me put on some clothes. Come in, come in.” Marian stood awkwardly in the kitchen, cradling the flowers and not certain if she should put the pastries on the table or the counter or someplace where they wouldn’t suddenly seem like a big deal.

Liddy returned with a pair of running shorts under the T-shirt and Marian abruptly felt as if there was air in the room again. She took the flowers from Marian and sniffed. “Thank you. I mean, you didn’t have to.”

Marian tried to slip the card into her back pocket. She hadn’t wanted to be present when Liddy read it. But Liddy saw it, so she handed it over with what she hoped was a confident flourish.

“Should I read this now?”

“If you like.”

“Maybe I should read it later. You meant me to find it alone.” Marian shrugged. “I do need to go. I’m having breakfast with friends and I need to be at work by noon.” Liddy cracked a sideways smile. “So I don’t have to share the pastries. They look yummy.”

“They are all yours.”

“Nobody has ever brought me breakfast before. I mean ... nobody who hadn’t spent the night. Not that there have been that many, I mean, just ...” Liddy sniffed the flowers appreciatively.

“Thank you.”

There was no air again. It had been a long time since Marian had been so aware of another woman, physically. Yes, she ached for Hemma, but she’d had years of learning to ignore it if she had to, to channel it from her moment-to-moment reality and save it for those nights at the window. All the sensible reasons she ought to channel away these feelings about Liddy were getting weak.

Instead, she let herself notice the delicate red that stained Liddy’s neck now, and the unquestionable beauty of Liddy’s full lips and luminous turquoise eyes. Inner Slut lingered on the long, tapered fingers tipped in short but shapely pink nails. And she could not help but notice the scent of Liddy’s perfume. It was not the kind that had ever been applied from any bottle.

Seeing Liddy first thing in the morning, smiling softly, blushing mildly, left Marian feeling dizzy, weak and undeniably needy. It would only take one push to ...

Liddy looked at her with concern. “Are you okay?” Say something, or she’ll know how bad off you are.

She might have been able to lie if Liddy’s nipples hadn’t hardened. She knew she was red, but it wasn’t a blush. Her flush of desire was a match to the one obviously running through Liddy’s body as well.

Only a few feet separated them and Marian swore her skin was trying to pull off her bones to be within reach of Liddy’s fingertips.

Her scalp prickled and her breasts ached to be touched. “I think I should go.”

Liddy didn’t move or react. There was only the rapid rise and fall of her chest, which made Marian notice how wonderfully voluptuous Liddy was. She’d never been with a woman so ... ample. So ... full.

Her mouth was watering.

There was no air again. All the blood in her body seemed to have drained to between her legs. For a moment she thought she might faint.

Liddy abruptly gasped for breath, breaking the taut silence.

“Maybe you should. Or I’m going to start begging.”

“Dear lord,” Marian murmured. She turned blindly toward the door, but Liddy’s voice froze her in place.

“Please. Don’t go.”

Had that moan come from her? Finding enough air to speak was difficult. “Liddy, I—I can’t stay. We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I hardly know—we don’t know each other. And we both got hurt.”

“I’m willing to risk it.” Liddy’s footsteps moved toward her.

“Maybe I’m lying to myself, but I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.”

The hot reality of Liddy’s body behind her made Marian break out in a sweat. Heat and fear mingled, and her heart beat so loudly she could hardly hear her own words. “I’m still in love with someone else. It’s not right for me to do that to you.” Liddy made a noise of abrupt pain, like the time Marian had caught a football with her stomach.

She whirled around to face her. “I’m sorry, Liddy. I told you I was a mess.”

Her face pale as ice, Liddy said, “Yes, you should go. You really should.”

“I may be a mess, but there are things I won’t do, and I won’t—”

“Please. Go.”

There was only a long look after that, then Marian left. The back porch stairs seem to waver under her feet.

“At least I told her the truth,” she said to her reflection in the rear-view mirror. “At least I remember some of the rules.”

Liddy congratulated herself for not crying until she heard Marian’s car start up. It seemed like she ought to cry because she hurt, all over. Her body had been in flames and now she felt dead.

Not even angry.

She’d been the one arguing they should just give in, hadn’t she?

Enjoy the purely physical fun? So why did knowing that Marian was in love with someone else make all the difference in the world?

There was an empty socket where her heart ought to be. It had been that way since Robyn had ripped it out by the roots. Except looking at those flowers and the silly pastries, for a few minutes she’d felt cared for. That she mattered to someone. And if she’d had no heart she wouldn’t have felt anything like that, would she? But she had.

She wanted to the throw the flowers away. Instead she put them in a pitcher she found in the cupboard. She cried over the delicious pastries and wished she wasn’t eating them alone.

Marian thought
she
was a mess? She has nothing on me, Liddy thought. I’m still so mad at Robyn I could snap-kick her to Canada.

It still hurts. And I’m sitting here thinking I don’t need Marian to
love
me, I just want her to bring me flowers and go to bed with me and be around all the time. But not be in love with me. Right.

She finished the second pastry and made coffee. It wasn’t until she’d had a relaxing few sips that she saw the card on the counter.

She wasn’t sure she should read it now, but of course she did.

The picture on the front was cute, two little girls having a spat about a cake.
Dear Liddy
, she read.
I don’t usually shout at new friends.

I think Jane Smiley had a point, don’t you? I rained on our yesterday, so I
hope these brighten today. Tomorrow, who knows?

Simple and sweet, Liddy thought, rubbing one finger over the signature. I’m a new friend. Is that what this is? Friendship? In an Iowa pig’s eye, she thought.

She’s in love with someone else. Friendship is what we can have.

But she sure as hell wants me, Liddy thought. The miserable ex who broke Marian’s heart hadn’t destroyed Marian’s libido. Even if Marian still thought she was in love with the louse, she wanted Liddy as bad as Liddy wanted her.

Sooner or later, Liddy predicted, Marian will get over the nutso, and when she does—damn. I’ll be in Berkeley fucking California.

Home. Not here. And someone else will notice the smile, the wit, the charm and the brains. Not to mention those hips and those shoulders and that ass. If word got out what a great kisser Marian was there’d be a line around the block of the Java House. Library patronage would double. What was wrong with the dykes in this town that a woman like Marian was even single?

She sighed heavily as she finished the coffee. You’re idealizing her, she told herself. Sitting here on a sugar high, smelling her flowers and thinking that she’ll get over the crazy ex in time.