Part 24 (1/2)
”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 a.s.sured her. ”The most trouble we get usually is students under the influence in the evenings.”
147.
”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 s.h.i.+vering 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 a.s.shole 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 gla.s.ses of iced water, then hurried away.
Liddy scanned the menu. ”Sus.h.i.+? 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 a.s.s.” Marian stuck out her tongue.
148.
”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 asoft' and apretty.'”
”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.” d.a.m.n, there was no air again.
149.
”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 overs.h.i.+rt. 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 f.u.c.k 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 150 doing the dishes. Swear to freakin' G.o.d, 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.”