Read One Degree of Separation Online

Authors: Karin Kallmaker

Tags: #Fiction, #Librarians, #General, #Romance, #Small Town Life, #Lesbian, #(v4.0), #Iowa City (Iowa)

One Degree of Separation (19 page)

“Is everyone okay? What happened?” Everyone talked at once until Mary Jane shushed them. “Let’s start on the incident report, Dean. Does anyone need a doctor? Did anyone break so much as a fingernail?”

“I don’t think so,” Dean answered. “Considering how ballistic that guy went, we were lucky.”

“Except maybe Marian’s friend,” Eric volunteered. “He pushed her pretty hard. Course he didn’t expect to get pushed back.”

“Who?” Mary Jane gave Marian a piercing look.

“Liddy. She was just walking in the door as he tried to run.”

“Oh, Gaia help us, is she okay?”

“I’m fine,” Liddy answered for herself. Marian thought she still looked pale. “Just in the wrong place, that’s all.”

“Thank goodness.” To Marian’s surprise, Mary Jane gave Liddy a quick hug. “Did you have some tea or something?”

“Marian made me some.”

Mary Jane nodded, while giving Marian a sidelong look. “Good. You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Really. I do have a brown belt,” Liddy said with a tight smile.

“Do you?”

Liddy shrugged. “It’s mostly to stay in shape.” She glanced at Marian. “I
don’t
go around looking for places to pull off some he-man routine.”

Ouch, Marian thought. “I am sorry about that. I may have been a bit frightened at the time.”

“I came in to get that book. I didn’t think ...” Mary Jane steadied Liddy with one hand. “Dizzy? It’s just a reaction.”

“I should have put sugar in the tea.” Marian worried that Liddy was going to faint, but it didn’t seem like a good idea to throw her arms around Liddy in front of everyone.

“This is ridiculous,” Liddy muttered. “I’ve sparred.”

“It’s different when it’s real.”

“Marian, why don’t you go ahead and take your dinner break?” She merely nodded at Mary Jane, and then gestured toward the door and said to Liddy, “Let’s get some fresh air and something to eat, okay? I could use that, seriously.”

Liddy preceded her through the door and let out a surprised gasp as they stepped into the full heat of the afternoon. “Oh, I don’t think I could get used to this.”

“This is hot,” Marian agreed. “About as bad as it gets, except for August.”

“Food sounds good, all of a sudden. I had the pastries and went to work out. All I’ve had since is a double-shot iced mocha. And now I’m all woozy.”

“We’ll walk slowly.”

She led Liddy down the Ped Mall toward Atlas, where the air conditioning was strong, the service good and the food cosmopoli-tan. A Jamaican jerk chicken burrito sounded divine.

“Does that happen a lot?”

“Never. Almost never,” Marian assured her. “The most trouble we get usually is students under the influence in the evenings.”

“I really wasn’t trying to muscle the guy. I take karate for self-defense, sure, but the most reliable skills are the ones that let you run away.”

Marian realized she was shivering as if her heart were shaking. “I really am sorry about that. I hate violence. I can’t watch boxing.” She didn’t add that one of the worst moments of her life had been walking down the stairs and finding what Robyn had done by way of good-bye. She’d already been in so much pain, but that had been the corker. Oh, lovely—today’s asshole was going to give her Robyn nightmares, she could tell.

“You’re shaking,” Liddy said suddenly. She stopped walking. “Honey ... it’s all over.”

Her face in Liddy’s shoulder, Marian had to ask if it was the brush with violence or the soft, gentle way Liddy said “honey” that made her knees wobbly. “I know.”

She heard something like a giggle through Liddy’s chest. “Lunch for both of us, then.”

“You have to let go of me first.”

“If I must.”

They stared at each other for a moment, then Liddy gently patted Marian on her chest. “Not here. If we start I won’t stop and we’ll get heatstroke. And arrested.”

Chagrined that so much showed in her face, Marian fought back the blush and led Liddy around the last corner to the restaurant.

“Oh, that feels
so
good.” Liddy slid into the offered booth. “Oh, perfect, the vent is blowing right on me.” The server brought two tall glasses of iced water, then hurried away.

Liddy scanned the menu. “Sushi? I would love some California roll.”

“How do you eat raw fish?”

“There’s nothing raw in that. But you eat raw fish by chewing and swallowing, same as with anything else.”

“Smart ass.” Marian stuck out her tongue.

“Put that where it counts.”

“You wish.”

“Yeah,” Liddy said seriously. “I do.”

Marian sipped her water, even though her throat was abruptly too tight to swallow. “Okay, well, there were a few hours today when I wasn’t Dewey, but I am now. Thanks for keeping me dehydrated.” Liddy’s turquoise eyes deepened to blue. “All part of the service.”

“Eric said you were so butch.”

“Oh, my. Doesn’t he know that just because a woman is strong it doesn’t automatically make her butch?”

“He’s not up on the finer aspects of it. He doesn’t know you think of yourself as a Wal-Mart femme.” Marian let her eyes savor the way the tank top seemed to cup Liddy’s wonderful curves.

Liddy shrugged but didn’t comment until after they ordered. She thanked the server then said more seriously, “I’ll call myself femme, but I don’t like it from other people usually. I think what I mean and they mean are two different things.”

“Like what?”

“Well, what does femme mean to you?”

Marian knew the question was a test and she chose her words with care. “To me, femme is not about lipstick and nail polish, though they might be part of the package. It’s a continuum. I think a femme is a woman whose femininity is on the surface, visible. So she might have nail polish.” Marian reached across the table and touched her unpolished nails to Liddy’s. “Or she might not. But her fingers will, to me, be unmistakably a woman’s. And when she moves there would never be a doubt in my mind that she’s a woman.” Liddy’s face was too blank for Marian to read. “You haven’t said words like ‘soft’ and ‘pretty.’”

“I think a butch woman can be both of those things. I sometimes find the labels stifling, too. I think of myself as gently butch, but that doesn’t mean I can’t cry—well, you know that. It doesn’t mean I can’t ... want.” Damn, there was no air again.

“I know that, too,” Liddy said softly. Her fingertips lightly trailed across the back of Marian’s hand. “I like that you can admit it.” Trying to hide that she was panting, Marian added, “And it doesn’t mean that a femme can’t change a tire, either.” Liddy’s laugh turned heads. “I hate those jokes. That’s why I don’t like being called femme, if you must know. The helpless femme jokes. They are to me no better than dumb blonde jokes.” Marian was glad Liddy moved her hand away. Her nipples were hard and she was sure it would show through the overshirt. Okay, she thought, my definition of butch means I don’t like just anyone to know my nipples are hard. She glanced at Liddy. Though, she acknowledged, it looked so lovely on a woman with Liddy’s endow-ments. “I don’t care for the portrayal of butches as intimidating, angry or brooding. And sometimes emotionally stunted, or intellectually devoid. Just in the room to fuck the femme, you know?” Liddy nodded, but she was still smiling. “I know.” She shrugged.

“I read those erotic anthologies—who doesn’t? But I don’t see myself there very often. I don’t secretly pine for five butch women to work me over. As if I’m not really a femme until I’ve had that.” Liddy abruptly went red. Marian was delighted she knew somebody who could blush as hard as she did, though Liddy did it much less often. “What?”

“Well ...” She sipped her water. “It’s not like I haven’t had that fantasy, to be honest.”

Marian successfully fought back a smile. “Fantasy is safe and often not about reality.”

“And mine ends with doing the housework.” Liddy rolled her eyes.

“Huh?”

“No kidding—there was this one story where the play was very top and bottom, about master and a new slave and that was okay. It worked.” Liddy glanced up from her plate as if to make sure the subject was okay with Marian. She smiled slightly, and continued, “But after the scene, the slave couldn’t wait to show her
true
devotion by doing the dishes. Swear to freakin’ god, I am
not
that kind of lesbian, thank you.”

Marian said, before she could stop herself, “I don’t want you to be that kind of lesbian.”

Liddy gasped and didn’t answer for a moment. Then, leaning forward, her voice very low, she asked, “What kind do you want me to be?”

Marian badly wanted to say, “I want you to be the kind who likes me the way I am, and I’ll like you the way you are and we can just be happy forever, is that too much to ask? Oh, yeah, and don’t already be married, okay?” Luckily, she was spared the need to answer by the arrival of their food.

“Try a piece—there’s nothing not to like.” Liddy proffered her plate of sushi rolls.

It’s a rite of passage, Marian told herself. “I’m a landlubber, that’s all.”

“It’s all cooked, nothing raw.”

Seaweed, she thought, but she picked up a piece, deliberately smiled, and bit into it. Okay, I’m not gagging, was her first reaction, then she tasted the sweet and savory blend of flavors. Well, okay. “It’s good. I like the hot stuff. Wasabi?”

“Yeah.” Liddy’s smile was pleased. “I grew up on stuff like this. My mom and dad are big health nuts.”

Oh dear, Marian thought. Liddy hadn’t had any of the sausages at breakfast yesterday. “Are you a vegetarian?”

“For the most part. I know all too well what red meat does to my body. Beef puts me to sleep, too.”

Marian had been known to like a good steak. Frequently. Okay, so we’re not a match made in heaven. This was good to know. She took a satisfying bite of her spinach and spicy chicken wrap. After swallowing she asked, “How do you feel about cats and dogs?”

“I don’t think people should eat them either.” Marian snickered. “Sorry, I meant as pets.”

“Oh.” Liddy grinned. “You had me worried there for a moment. I like them as pets.”

“Did you leave any at home when you hit the road?”

“My folks have always had cats, but I’ve yet to adopt any of my own.”

Okay, Marian thought. That ruled out allergies. While they ate in silence for a few minutes, Marian wondered why she was asking Liddy all these questions when they weren’t ... going to do anything. Inner Slut answered that she was trying to get laid. Inner Prude objected, and Marian realized Liddy was looking at her with some concern.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” She grinned. “Sometimes it gets a little noisy in my head.”

“Well, after that scene in the library, I guess that’s understandable.”

“It’s got nothing to do with that,” Marian said honestly. “I want you to be the kind of lesbian you want to be. What makes you happy.”

“I will say one of the drawbacks of Berkeley is that everyone has a really strong opinion about how to be a lesbian.” Liddy finished the last piece of her sushi roll and wiped her fingers. Marian watched in a daze as those fingers then trailed lightly along the inside of Liddy’s tank top. “I’m finding it really hard to ignore what I’m thinking will make me happy.” Marian didn’t even have time to wonder what had happened to the oxygen in the room before Liddy added in her low, intense voice, “And that’s being in your bed tonight.” Marian’s head pounded in rhythm with the unending throb between her legs. Had she really been this eager, this ready, with Robyn?

“I’m sorry,” Liddy said. “That was a little bald, wasn’t it?”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m not used to just putting it right out there.” She sipped her water. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me—”

“Or what’s right?”

Liddy’s smile was forced. “Could be. I don’t know. I imagine people in Iowa City don’t just say they want to go to bed right out in public.”

“Sometimes,” Marian murmured, “they do.”

Liddy stared at her plate. “I’m feeling a little vulnerable here.” Belatedly, Marian said, “I want you in my bed. I want to be in your bed.”

“I was worried you didn’t.”

“Liddy.” Marian studied the top of Liddy’s head and waited.

When Liddy looked up, finally, Marian said quietly, but clearly,

“Right now this entire room is bathed in red and I feel like I am burning. I can hardly think for wanting you. But I can’t get past a couple of things.”

“Like what?”

“I’m in love ... with someone else.”

“I know. I’m not asking you to be in love with me.” Liddy said it firmly, but Marian saw a flicker of what might have been sadness in Liddy’s eyes.

“You’re leaving at the end of the summer.”

“Therefore that whole falling in love thing isn’t necessary, is it?”

“I got hurt last time,” Marian reminded her.

“I don’t want to get hurt either, so if we agree not to hurt each other—”

“And I’m not quite done with that bleeding thing.” Liddy arched an eyebrow. “Haven’t you ever heard of red towels?”

Marian had to laugh. “I feel utterly unattractive from the waist down.”

“That leaves me half your body to enjoy, doesn’t it?” It took a minute, but Marian found the will to breathe after she broke Liddy’s intense gaze by rubbing her eyes. “You make that sound so tempting.”

“I mean it to be.”

If Inner Prude had anything to say, it was drowned out by Inner Slut. She’s sexy and hot, Inner Slut was shouting. She wants you and you
know
you want her.

“Marian, I’ve been honest with you, haven’t I? I left Berkeley because somebody broke my heart and damned near ruined my life. I’m breaking all the promises I made to myself before I left home. I didn’t come here for an affair, but I have never wanted anybody the way I want you right now.”

Was that true? Could it possibly be true, Marian wondered.

Robyn had said much the same thing. That the flare of desire was meant to be. Giving in wasn’t a mistake. They would make love and get to know each other. What about Hemma, Inner Prude demanded. You’ve loved her for years.

But I can’t have her, Marian thought savagely. And she’s leaving me. This morning we decided I can’t buy their house. It’s over. Hemma’s leaving. Marian’s eyes filled with unbidden tears. “I’m okay,” she murmured, dabbing. “Just—a lot of emotion.”

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