Part 21 (1/2)

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.”

126.

”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.”

127.

9.

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.

128.

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? Friends.h.i.+p? In an Iowa pig's eye, she thought.

She's in love with someone else. Friends.h.i.+p is what we can have.

But she sure as h.e.l.l 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-d.a.m.n. I'll be in Berkeley f.u.c.king 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 a.s.s. 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 d.y.k.es 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.

In time? In time for what? Before you go? Right. And then what?

Dojo, she decided, glad it was open on Sundays, and then she really needed to do more reading. Yesterday had been too unsettling.

129.

Swear to freakin' G.o.d, she thought irritably. She wouldn't waste another day wondering about Marian the Librarian and that Mona Lisa smile and gold-green eyes that looked right into her heart.

Flowers, sugar, a card-it took more than that to turn her into a pathetic, lovesick, mushy, goofy . . .

She hadn't stopped at the library to get that book, though.

Smiling slightly, she went upstairs to change.