Warming Trend (8 page)

“Was? What’s perfection for you now?”

“When what’s-her-name took what little I had and I realized I was going to have to live five or six years, financially, all over again, I knew that I wanted a better tomorrow. Guess that means I have to grow up. Start using my brain. Be a Myra.”

“You could be a little less Lisa, maybe a little more Myra, I guess.” Since Lisa was fond of pointing out her mistakes, Ani added, “A Myra knows better than to pay for half a car and not get her name on the title.”

“I know,” Lisa snapped.

“Besides, that’s not the picture of a perfect life using your brain. That’s just a way to get a life you like.”

“Look what all your brains did for you.”

Stung, Ani said, “I already admitted I messed up my life.” Out of her hurt, she had a new thought. “So I messed up my life. Maybe that’s better than not doing anything with it.”

For a moment Lisa tried to peel Ani with her eyes, but she abruptly blinked and went back to staring out the window where the creamy level floor of cloud cover made it appear they were barely moving. “I deserved that, I guess.”

“You’ve been a bit harsh.”

“I figure if I help you get your life together, I’ll know it can be done, and work on mine.”

“We’re not getting my life together. I mean… We’re going to get my stuff so Eve can get me out of her life and I can finally start over. Most of my stuff should just go to the dump if it hasn’t already.” There, that sounded reasonable. That was achievable.

“If you say so. Personally, I think you should try to bag the babe again.”

“Eve wants nothing to do with me.”

“You don’t know that.” Lisa huddled into her sweater.

“I was there and you weren’t. Why do you think you know what she felt? Or what I felt?”

“How do I know? This is going to sound really sappy…” Lisa blew out a long breath and appeared lost in thought.

Ani decided it was a good time to wait. She’d been wrong about Lisa’s age and in the breakneck speed in which they’d become traveling companions, she’d had to revise her opinion about her more than once. Irritating as hell, yes, but not mean. She reminded Ani of Tan Salek, in some ways. They were night and day on the outside. If anything, Tan was a bit of a mother figure, even though she wasn’t old enough. Her sympathetic smile made her comforting to talk to, except when she was frowning over paperwork and especially if that paperwork in some way involved you. Lisa had bounced from job to job, while Tan was contentedly ensconced in a university desk job and had already planned her retirement, two decades in the future. It was something deeper that Tan had in common with Lisa they both listened with more than their ears.

Finally, Lisa continued, “I’ve been in denial that I’ve changed. But it all came together in my head when you looked at the picture. When I said it was Eve you’d cared about, the look on your face I realized I’d give a lot to have someone look like that at the mention of my name.” She twisted a lock of blond hair around her finger. “I can fend for myself, and I always have. I’m not weak. But I would
really
like to be on someone’s pedestal. To have someone think that the sun can’t rise without me. So here I am, helping you win back the love of your life. I figure if it works for a loser like you” She softened the words with a smile. “It might work for a loser like me.”

Ani was glad of a sudden interruption by the pilot, updating their arrival time into Atlanta. When she answered Lisa, her voice was steady with conviction. “I don’t want to win her back.”

“I don’t believe you,” Lisa said, still without her usual acerbic tone. “And I notice you didn’t deny she’s the love of your life. You’ve never even tried to replace her, Ms. Frigid, have you?”

Ani decided that if Lisa ever took up psychotherapy she’d be truly dangerous. “You don’t understand. I let her down. I let Monica Tyndell down.”

“Did you kill someone’s cat? Drop a baby on its head?”

“No.”

“Then how come an apology and making amends wasn’t enough?”

Ani shook her head. “There wasn’t isn’t any way to make it better. It can’t be undone. It’s like like untelling a secret. You break trust like that, you can’t put the genie back in that bottle.”

Lisa rummaged in her oversized purse and came up with a packet of crackers. Offering some to Ani, she said, “I might be more helpful if I knew what my hot girlfriend, who is a rich bartender, did all those years ago that’s so unforgivable.”

Ani was daunted. The reason she’d run away from Glacier Port was real. But someone who didn’t understand how that world worked wouldn’t understand her actions. Academics were fond of teaching examples of bucking the system, of excellence through maverick ideas and methods, all fine and good, but none of it applied to academia itself, which ran a certain way and stayed that way. Once an academic conviction was reached, changing minds was almost impossible. Lamely, she said, “I don’t know where to begin.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Start in the middle and work in both directions. Make it hard on me.”

“You’re incredibly annoying,” Ani said, without heat. She had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach as she realized that things she’d hoped she’d forgotten were still vividly accessible in her head.

“That’s why you love me.”

“Dream on.”

Lisa heaved a longsuffering sigh, but she loosened her seatbelt a little and gave Ani all her attention.

It wasn’t hard to talk about the beginning. Describing the northern lights and dancing with Eve was pretty easy. The memories were so sweet.

She had only waited a day to call Eve. After twisting the night away she hadn’t expected to wake up to a brilliant sun of promise and the sincere regret that she’d not kissed Eve when she’d dropped her at home.

In summer, caterers were busy people, and it had been nearly two weeks before Eve had been able to promise time. A daylight picnic was the proposal, and they met at the entrance to the university’s botanical gardens at eleven a.m. Ani had spent the entire morning responding to Dr. Tyndell’s instructions to “Organize this” after she handed over a stack of temperature logs. Normally, it was what she lived for, but more than once she’d realized she was staring out the window of the professor’s office, not even seeing the bayhawks circling their nests.

Waiting at the garden entrance, she tugged nervously at her shorts, worried they were too utilitarian, even if they were clean. Clean clothes were hard to maintain in a dorm. She’d played it safe with a deep blue polo that featured the GlacierPort logo on the breast pocket. There was nothing she could do about her hair. The relaxing shampoo she’d been using for the last two weeks seemed to be helping a little, but it still curled and twisted any way it liked.

She had enough time to worry that maybe the easy conversation and the delight of the unexpected dancing had just been a fluke. Eve couldn’t be that lovely, could she? Surely something about her was flawed she just didn’t want to remember what it was.

When Eve’s hair caught the midday sun as she walked toward her from the parking lot, Ani knew her memory wasn’t false. Eve was that lovely, imperfectly beautiful. In the bright light her shoulder-length hair was a splash of yellow over a collared shirt patterned with blue and green diamonds. In between was the interesting face, and that smile that Ani abruptly realized she’d been yearning to see again. As Eve got closer, Ani remembered that she’d not been able to decide if Eve’s eyes were blue or gray. Now, clearly, they were blue, like the morning sky through wisps of cloud.

“I love peonies,” Eve said, without preamble. “Do you have a favorite place in the garden?”

Ani didn’t want to admit that botanical gardens weren’t exactly her first pick as a hangout. “Not really.”

“Follow me, then. I know a spot that’s usually in the sun.”

It was a typical Fairbanks July day. The temperature was pushing eighty, but the shadows were cool. People were out in droves, and it was easy to tell tourists from residents tourists had tans. Eve was wearing denim crop pants and Ani really liked the way the pale smoothness of Eve’s calves was wrapped with Grecian style straps from her gold sandals. They were the kind of shoes that could only be worn for a month or two out of the year. Ani much preferred her sturdy boots, choosing a pair each day based on the amount of traction she thought she might need on the ice. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate sexy sandals on another woman. And sexy they were, like the legs they decorated, legs that led to…

“This okay?” Eve gestured at a bench in the sun, facing down the slope of the gardens toward the children’s pond. Beyond that, rows of experimental peonies blazed scarlet in the afternoon sun.

Ani knew she was blushing. Eve had nearly caught her checking out her ass, and it was a
fine
asset. “It’s, um, great.”

Eve gave her an amused look. “Why do you look guilty?”

“I’m hungry. I was ogling your picnic basket.”

“You’re worse than Tonk.”

“That hurts,” Ani said in mock pain. “I’ve not slobbered on you.”

Eve didn’t say, “Yet,” but Ani still heard it in the awkward silence that fell between them. She fought down another blush and accepted a half of a wax-paper wrapped sandwich. She couldn’t just blurt out, “I don’t slobber, really!”

The sandwich could have been shoe leather and she’d have said it was good, but she was being completely honest when she said, “You make really good egg salad.”

“I think you just like eggs.” Eve finished her half sandwich and reached for the bag of homemade cereal mix and nuts.

Ani licked her fingers. “What makes you say that?”

“It was my deviled eggs that brought us together.”

Ani didn’t care that she blushed again.
Together
sounded nice. Eve looked a little surprised at her choice of words, but she didn’t amend it. She handed Ani the baggie of nuts and savory seasoned cereal.

“I like this, too.” Ani fished out a couple of cashews and wheat cereal squares.

“Thank you. And I thought I’d have to break out my killer lemon bars to impress you.”

“You have killer lemon bars in that basket?” Ani made a show of peering, but Eve slammed the lid shut.

“Maybe. If you behave.”

Not sure where she got the boldness from, Ani asked, “Are you sure you want me to behave?”

Eve didn’t exactly blush, but her cheeks took on a hint of pink. “I’m not sure.” This time she did say, “Yet.”

Ani thought it wise to look out across the pond, else Eve might have seen the glee she was certain showed in her eyes. Her heart felt tight and she couldn’t breathe without feeling like something inside would burst. Nothing in all the serious flirtations and light-hearted bedroom encounters of her past had been anything like the tingle that was making her palms itch.

They finished the contents of the basket and kept to safe subjects. The lemon bars were indeed killer. Eve explained about curd and butter, and it all tasted like ambrosia to Ani. Her father and she hadn’t spent a lot of time on culinary niceties, but her palate knew the difference between store-bought goods and the melt-in-her-mouth pastry Eve had made.

When Eve asked how her summer studies were progressing, Ani was happy to explain. “I’m already doing basic research formation putting data into charts. Sorting through journey notes. Professor Tyndell spent most of her sabbatical on the glacier. If she can finish her article in time, she’ll scoop the Greenland researchers Kenbrink and his crew. They’re all going on a joint expedition next May, but even so, there’s a lot of research grant money at stake. I
might
get to go, though there’s a couple of grads ahead of me, seniority-wise.” The professor had said that Ani was so savvy about ice conditions she’d likely be an unexpected asset.

Eve crossed her legs and the sun glinting on those really cute sandals temporarily derailed Ani’s train of thought. “What’s she really like? I’m not even affiliated with the university, but I know full well who she is.”

“Monica, Professor Tyndell, is really very nice. Busy, of course, so you have to wait for her attention, but very nice.” It wasn’t as if she had a shoe fetish maybe it was the pale pink polish on Eve’s toenails that was so alluring. “Very nice.”

“Oh, so she’s nice.” Eve was grinning at her. “She does seem to have charisma for days.”

“That’s for sure. She gets everybody to agree with her because she’s not only right, she’s persuasive, even when people don’t want to agree because they’re stubborn.”

“The politics must be intense.”

Ani nodded. “It’s my least favorite part. There should be enough research money to go around. It’s kind of crazy the way everyone competes to get their data out and publish papers.”

Eve flexed her calves. “Well, if academia is anything like weddings…”

Ani laughed. “What do you mean?”

“Well, no matter the budget, it’s never enough. Like the budget not being enough for a five-layer cake, so grandparents come up with enough for that, but suddenly only a seven-layer cake will be right.” Eve shrugged. “There’ll never be enough money when people are passionate about what they’re buying with it.”

“You could be right.” Ani finished her bottle of water. “Would you like to walk around?”

“Sure.” Eve picked up the picnic basket and Ani promptly took it from her. They walked down the slope toward the children’s play area. The sun soaked through Ani’s polo shirt, but she was pretty sure that wasn’t why she felt so warm.

Ani had just asked Eve if she kept a greenhouse for herbs when she heard her name called. She glanced over her shoulder.

“Anidyr! What brings you here?”

Monica Tyndell was taller than most women, but she still wasn’t quite Ani’s height. Sleek and blonde, she looked very much like the Swedish ancestry she claimed from both parents. Ani smiled a greeting, then introduced the professor to Eve.

“We’ve met, haven’t we?” Monica shook hands with Eve and Ani realized she very much wanted Monica to like Eve.

“I’ve catered a number of university functions,” Eve explained.

“Oh, of course. That must be how you met Anidyr.”

Eve fell silent, looking shy, and Ani couldn’t blame her. Monica had…something. Most of the people who worked on the ice had a look a suntan demarcated by a T-shirt collar, goggle lines, skin like leather and short hair that was a bit crisp and dry. Monica was pure pin-up by comparison, but she didn’t dress like a beauty queen. No cleavage or fluttery lashes and earrings. She exuded competence and confidence, very female in flannel or wool, or, as she was today, in shorts and a polo much like Ani’s.