One Degree Of Separation Part 26

When Marian didn't say more, Ellie said, "It's a wrench, losing them, I know. But I would think you'd welcome a romance, even if just for the summer."

"Hemma is . . ." s.h.i.+t, Marian thought. I'm going to tell her. I have to tell her. "I can't buy their house. I don't have enough capital.

I really wish I did."

160.

"Oh, that would have been good. You love the garden." Ellie suddenly grabbed her arm. "Marian! The light's red."

Marian stepped back to the curb as a truck rumbled by. "It's for the best. I need to let go."

"They've been your family since your folks died," Ellie said softly.

She gave Marian a little push when the light changed. "Hemma's the one who said you should be a librarian."

Surprised that Ellie remembered, Marian nodded. "And the books. We found the books together."

"Oh, yeah."

You're being a jerk, Marian suddenly realized. "You're my family, too, Ellie. You know that, right?"

"Yes. You're it for me. We both lost our folks young. I'm glad you decided to follow me here to I.C."

"Well, you got the place all figured out for me. It seemed like a good idea. It's worked out pretty well."

"I care about Sandy, I really do." Ellie stopped walking for a moment. "She's too good for me. Every time I f.u.c.k something up, I expect her to leave me. She never f.u.c.ks up."

"You need someone a little imperfect."

Ellie smiled, but Marian could see the effort it cost her. "More than a little, if they're going to match me."

"We'll make up a list of candidates."

"I've still got the list from last year."

"Ellie? I think that any other day I'd say let's get something very cold to drink and talk it through, but my head is going to fall off. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I do have to admit that what sounds really good to me right now is a very cold something that's blue, gets poured over ice and only tastes good with an umbrella in it."

Marian was grateful they had reached the tree-lined portion of the mall. The storm front had mercifully finally covered the sun, and it felt less humid under the trees. Just past the Java House, she thought. You can make it that far. Then she remembered she needed 161 to get all the way back to the library. The very idea made her want to cry.

"Mary Jane!" Ellie darted to the opposite side of the mall.

By the time Marian caught up to her, Mary Jane was regarding her with concern. "I think Ellie's right, you should go home."

"Are you sure you've got coverage?"

"I'll stick around. I've got tons of paperwork to do anyway, as always."

"I'm sorry," Marian mumbled.

"Stop that. Go home and take care of yourself. That's a direct order."

Marian found a glimmer of a smile. "You top you."

Mary Jane rolled her eyes. "We'll discuss that another time."

"Thanks, El. See you."

It seemed like the longest walk of her life, but she finally reached the milestone of the Java House. And found herself face to face with Liddy, who emerged from the artist's collective next door.

"Hey."

"I'm not a stalker." Liddy flushed. "I was just browsing."

"I didn't think you were a stalker."

"But I forgot to give you this, so it's just as well."

Marian took the card. The envelope bulged with the promise of something more than paper tucked inside. "This wasn't necessary."

"I know. But I was thinking of you. Don't leave it in the sun."

"You must think I am such an idiot."

"No," Liddy said seriously. "I really don't. You keep saying you're a mess. You've got some reasons. But I don't understand why that means you have to shut me out."

"h.e.l.l, I don't understand why either. I'm so afraid."

Liddy moved closer, her voice very soft. "I'm not going to hurt you. I would never do that."

"No, you don't understand." Marian put her hand on her forehead, trying to ease the notion that her brains were going to explode out of her skull. "I'm afraid of me. That I'm going to hurt you.

162.

Because I'm a mess and I can't promise what my feelings will be tomorrow or next week. It would kill me if I hurt you. I thought I knew myself, but these last couple of days . . ." She wanted so badly to curl up in Liddy's arms and go to sleep. Or make love. Or both.

For hours and hours.

"I'm willing to give us s.p.a.ce and time. I know this is quick. I don't even know what I'm really talking about. I'm not talking about forever, but can't we at least enjoy what we both know we're feeling?"

"It's not the s.e.x. It's the morning after."

"Don't you think I know that? Marian . . ." Liddy's eyes sparkled with tears. "I feel like I'm struck by lightning here. It's hard to think."

Marian pointed at her head. "Migraine. And getting worse.

Thinking is not my forte right now either."

"I'm sorry." Liddy cleared her throat. "Are you going to be able to get home?"

"Yes." Marian found a faint smile somehow. "I don't need any rescuing at the moment, but thank you."

They reached the Beetle and Liddy paused while Marian found her keys. "You're sure you'll get home okay?"

"Yeah. I'll take a pill and crash."

"Okay. If you're sure."

Marian nodded. Liddy didn't move on, though, so Marian looked up at her. "I'm so sorry."

"So am I."

Marian wondered if they were talking about the same thing.

When Liddy stepped slightly closer and lowered her head, she knew they were.

The kiss was so gentle that Marian wanted to weep. It asked nothing of her, but felt so welcome that she caught back a whimper.

Liddy must think her pathetic. So needy, so whiney, crying all the time. Wanting all the time.

She pulled back her head and took a deep breath. "I really am sorry."

Liddy did walk away then, and Marian hurt too much to cry.

163.

I didn't even get the d.a.m.ned book, Liddy raged at herself.

Another day not getting much done and she hadn't even picked up the one thing she went there for.

Like you didn't go there for her kisses, an inner voice whispered.

Be honest. To look into her eyes again, that's what you were really after.

She parked the Hummer behind the house and stomped across the overgrown lawn to the back stairs. As she unlocked the door she heard the phone and dashed across the kitchen to pick it up before voice mail took over.

"Honey, I can't believe I actually got the real live you!" Her mother's warm voice was very welcome in Liddy's ear.

"Hi, Mom." What had she thought, that it would be Marian?

Marian didn't even have her phone number. How could she be thinking about forever when she didn't even know where Marian lived?

"You sound blue. Are you sleeping?"

"I'm fine." Like she was going to tell her mother about Marian, right. And what the h.e.l.l was there to tell? It wasn't as if a person could get a broken heart in a weekend.

"What's Iowa like?"

"Well, sort of like Fresno. Only prettier. Hills, and woods and lots of water. It's really hot, though. Not compared to Fresno, but compared to Berkeley."

"And you're eating well? Not just living on oatmeal and bananas?"

"Yes, Mom. I had sus.h.i.+ today."

"In Iowa?"

"I know, fooled me too. It was good." She smiled to herself.

Marian's face before taking that first bite had been a picture. "I've been out to see nature and visited the libraries, and there's even a homeopath I could see if I don't feel well."

"In Iowa? They have homeopaths in Iowa?"

164.

"Mom, there's a master sensei here in Iowa. And some excellent coffee. And running water in most homes."

Her mother's laugh was soothing over the phone line. Liddy wanted to curl up and try to explain about Marian, but it all sounded so . . . s.e.xual. Mom had admitted that s.e.xual heat had been the reason for her first marriage, and look how that had ended.

"Iowa City reminds me of Berkeley, actually. Not as big, but there are street musicians and vendors downtown, and people with card tables with pet.i.tions to save the spotted naked whales. Lots of rain-bow flags, and plenty of peace b.u.mper stickers. I think you'd like it."

"You're sure you're in Iowa?"

"Yes, Mom. I have the parking tickets to prove it."

"Well, that's comforting. At least I know you're running true to form. Pay them, would you, so they'll let you leave the state."

She laughed. "Yes, Mother, I will do all as you say."

They talked about Aunt Selma in Cedar Rapids. Liddy agreed to call and arrange a visit, though Aunt Selma had last seen Liddy in diapers. "So what's up with you and Daddy?"

Her mother's warm voice was so comforting. "Yesterday we got all the sets finished for a quick little play."

"Another one? You guys are manic."

"I'm Scarlet O'Hara."

Liddy giggled. "You've got the figure for it. I'll admit it even if you are my mom. But how do you have time to learn a part that big?"

"Gone with the Wisdom is a peace metaphor. Scarlet is just an ideal, so I have no lines. I just get to stand there with my bosoms cinched up and a price tag dangling from one ear."

"Okay." Liddy could picture the makes.h.i.+ft stage at one end of the park near home. She'd been to plenty of the performances of the Neighbors for Peace Troupe. "Don't hurt your bosoms. I hate it when that happens."

"Daddy sends his love and wants to know if you've sold the Hummer yet."

"No, though I've been tempted several times."

165.