Finders Keepers

by Karin Kallmaker

  Somehow, Linda’s surface to bones-deep beauty had escaped her. Marissa wasn’t sure why. If she’d realized she might not have flirted so much, might not have really believed that anything could happen between a goddess-model and an overweight, underfit computer nerd. But something had. Something meaningful, caught between the words and moans, had happened.

  The tint of Linda’s shoulders lost some of the orange blush as the sunlight steadied into its yellow glory. Marissa resisted the urge to wake Linda with a kiss and soft brush of fingertips where they had been so wanted last night. Yes, Linda was beautiful, but Marissa was missing the laughter in the expressive topaz-brown eyes—the laughter and her own reflection there.

  Ten minutes ticked slowly by. The sun gained its foothold in the sky and the ever-changing light illuminated new angles and curves in Linda’s face. The moment grew and the feeling that she might never experience anything so peaceful and magical again became painful. There was no such still place in reality. Marissa knew that the moment would end.

  She began her journey home today.

  She couldn’t go wherever Linda was going—she had a life and a company and friends. And she knew that this moment in the sun would not last forever. It lived until Linda stirred, until someone’s stomach growled and the need for change, to move forward in the day, arose.

  The voice of inner pragmatism reminded her that she could not stop time. She didn’t try to argue with that reality. The only thing she could control was how this moment ended.

  Leaning forward she lightly touched her lips to Linda’s brow, her cheek, then her lips. Her fingers she trailed down the curve of 68

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  Linda’s hips, grinning with joy as she felt Linda stir against her.

  The soft noise of waking mixed with wonder was the second most glorious thing Marissa had ever heard—the first, she realized with a shiver of delight, was Linda’s voice raised in pleasure. Laughing or climaxing, Marissa understood abruptly that there was little difference. She craved the sound of both.

  “Morning,” Linda murmured.

  “Good morning to you.” Marissa continued the light, easy touches of her lips against Linda’s face. “I tried hard not to wake you but I didn’t know which you’d like less—me waking you early or me watching you sleep.”

  “I don’t mind early.” Linda’s eyes opened, the brown muted with drowsiness. “I’ve watched you sleep the last two mornings.”

  “Oh.” Touched, Marissa let her fingers wander more firmly and Linda seemed to melt even closer. “That’s sweet, very sweet.”

  “Make love to me,” Linda whispered. “Marissa, please.”

  Wishing her arms had the endless strength that Linda’s did, Marissa slid on top of Linda, using her legs to spread Linda’s apart.

  “You don’t have to ask twice, believe me.”

  Linda’s quiet chuckle was stifled by a quick groan as Marissa delved carefully into Linda’s slick heat. Her fingertips tingled as Linda melted underneath her. She nuzzled at Linda’s ear, listening carefully to the rising pace of Linda’s breathing. All that mattered was the awe she felt as she dipped inside Linda, awe that reflected back to her through Linda’s moan. Pulling back, she locked her gaze with Linda’s and lived each stroke of her fingers through the widening shimmer in the brown depths.

  She nearly asked if it was okay, if it felt good but Linda suddenly wrapped her arms tight around Marissa’s shoulders and held on as a soft, broken groan escaped her. Marissa thought, for just a moment, that she might cry from the quiet strength of Linda’s taut body. Before tears could form, however, they were both melting into the cool sheets.

  Linda laughed quietly as she sighed and for the next few minutes Marissa felt caught all over again in a moment of perfect hap-69

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  piness. But after those few minutes there were new needs and Linda, fully awake and eyes gleaming with intent, took care of every one.

  “I suppose we should get up.” Linda ruffled the sheet on top of them and Marissa wrinkled her nose.

  “We smell like sex.”

  “Yeah,” Linda said, with obvious relish. “And I’m hungry now.”

  “Let’s get some breakfast then.” Okay, Marissa thought, we won’t talk about what we have to do before one o’clock this afternoon.

  The talk was light over breakfast and touched on nothing but the fun they’d had snorkeling, walking, swimming, sunbathing, wading and breaking open coconuts. By the time they walked back to their bungalow Marissa was thoroughly concerned that something was wrong but the door wasn’t even closed before Linda pulled her firmly into her arms and whispered, “Let’s go back to bed.”

  Giddy with laughter, Marissa grabbed another handful of clothing and shoved it into the cheap duffle bag she’d acquired at the Fare Town market. Linda was likewise engaged and also seemed ready to laugh at nearly anything. They’d done a dozen delicious things to each other and gone back for seconds of their favorites.

  Marissa blushed to think of how vocal she’d been about what she wanted (more), how (harder) and when (now).

  Their shuttle to the tiny island airport left in fifteen minutes and she was dizzy from lovemaking and emotions spent and yet bottled up.

  Everything was a blur of smiles and farewells until the tiny plane was airborne over the vivid blue ocean. Marissa thought back over the past few days and remembered how big it had all seemed 70

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  when the lifeboat was the entire world. There were islands dotting the ocean everywhere, yet they’d seen none but the one they’d landed on.

  Linda leaned across to peer out the window. “Seems impossible that anyone would get lost out here, doesn’t it?”

  “From up here, yes. I was just thinking how easy from down there.” I’m lost, she thought. Still lost. I have been since the first moment she flirted with me.

  Linda took her hand and they sat quietly for a while. Finally, she murmured, “Last night was amazing. I didn’t expect . . . I wasn’t sure how you felt.”

  “I wasn’t sure about you either. I mean that we’re different. Not just on the outside.” With a flash of insight, she added, “Vacation brought out our similarities.”

  “I’d like to work on finding others.” Linda squeezed their fingers as the plane rocked from mild turbulence. “I think there’s more.”

  Marissa could only nod. She wanted there to be more but now she couldn’t help but think of all the things she still didn’t know about Linda. Like how she could afford not to work and travel all the time. Where she’d gone to school, what her interests were in music. “I’d like that.”

  “I might not be able to call or write but one day you’re going to look up and there I’ll be.”

  Swallowing hard, Marissa nodded. She couldn’t think about the next hours, when good-bye was inevitable. She could hear that throaty question, repeating in her mind.

  “Is this what you wanted, Marissa? ”

  It had been, all that and more.

  The small airplane touched down with a squeal of tires. The rest of the journey seemed inevitable. Home called, there was no denying it. She’d not thought about her mother in several days now and that had been a relief. But work, all her plans and Ocky’s too, called. She had a life she really wanted to live—she felt that 71

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  more strongly than she ever had before. There were more ups than downs, more ones than zeros and it was her life, the one she’d chosen.

  She wanted Linda, too, loved the feelings Linda brought out in her. Again, she was gripped with knowing she wanted to be the woman Linda saw. But could she be? Every look in the mirror said that Linda was plain nuts to find her attractive. But last night . . .

  last night.

  It seemed impossibly soon that she was standing at her depar-ture gate, watching the first passengers board th
e flight to Honolulu. Linda was waiting to see her off then had a few more hours until her flight to Auckland. They’d eaten the fruit they’d grabbed at the hotel since none could be taken where they were going. Carefully, with lots of little words, they’d not talked.

  They’d not even said good-bye, though Marissa could feel them both shaking slightly as they waited, arms entwined.

  Finally, she took the chance. “It wasn’t just pity, was it?” The boarding call came again.

  “No, of course not.” Linda’s eyes had darkened but she kept their luminous depths trained on Marissa’s expression. “I wanted to love you. Why did you let me?”

  “Because . . . I wanted you.” She had felt far more but she was too frightened to add, “I loved the way you made me feel, like nobody ever had before. I don’t want to go, I don’t want to lose the feeling.” She might have tried to put some of that into words, but even as she considered it, she realized that she couldn’t divide Linda from the emotions Linda brought out in her. Was it Linda who attracted her or the heady, addictive feelings of being desired and wanted? Was it both?

  Her feelings were too confusing to risk more when they would be parted in only a few minutes. There would be time to talk, back in the real world.

  They called her row and only a few passengers were left.

  Somehow, Marissa made her hands unclench, made herself walk away, but she couldn’t make herself not look back. Run back now 72

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  and tell her you think you’re in love with her. But would that be the truth? This is a vacation romance, with a chance to be something more, Marissa told herself firmly. As they advised their clients, be patient.

  She looked over her shoulder one more time. Linda’s gaze was filled with a soft wonder and a shimmer of tears. Be patient— and trust what you know you felt.

  Linda stayed there, just the other side of attendant, as Marissa stepped through the door onto the baking asphalt. Crossing quickly to the shade of their plane, Marissa queued with the other passengers then hauled her backpack and herself up the stairs. It was so much harder to climb those stairs than it had been that cliff.

  At the top, just before she ducked into the aircraft, she looked back and Linda was there, on the other side of the glass.

  Long after her plane was airborne, Marissa wondered if that last gesture had been a wave, or if it had been a blown kiss set free on the island breeze to follow Marissa on the long journey home.

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  Part Two

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  Chapter 6

  Is that what someone would call a limitless sky? The grimy airport window couldn’t mask how big the heavens were. In what seemed like only minutes, Marissa’s plane was out of sight.

  “Pardonnez moi, mademoiselle.”

  Startled, Linda Bartok abandoned her contemplation of the Tahitian sky, not knowing how long ago Marissa’s plane had disappeared into the distance. “Oui? What is it?”

  “You’re behind the secured area,” the airline attendant said, with a gesture at the sign.

  “Pardonnez moi.” She’d not realized she had edged toward the door as she’d watched the plane taxi. Linda picked up her worn day pack and turned toward the boarding area for her Auckland flight.

  For a few minutes she could think only of the previous night.

  There had not been—never, ever—a night like that before in her life. She could still feel Marissa’s touch and the depth of her own response. This morning, too, in the full light of day, she’d felt the 77

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  same intensity and let herself enjoy it to levels she’d never experienced.

  The days, too . . . the days with Marissa had been filled with laughter and ease. It had been great fun teaching Marissa to snorkel, to share good food and talk only of topics they felt like exploring. Marissa’s hands made curious whorls and sharp slices in the air if whatever the topic was excited her.

  Linda grinned to herself. When Marissa was excited she was also quite vocal.

  What a week, she thought. What an amazing week. A cruise wasn’t her usual style and had been booked last minute on the cheap.

  How could she have known the challenge and invigoration of their shipwreck and rescue would provide such wonderful diversion? All in all, the vacation had been a blast, a real escape from her life.

  She laughed aloud, alarming two elderly women walking toward her. She nodded more sedately and laughed quietly when they had passed her. The week had been an escape—an escape from escaping. How ironic was that?

  She’d felt so far away, so perfectly lost. Had the night been so amazing because Marissa knew nothing at all about her? Had it been the brightness of the days and the safety of the dark night that had let her respond that way?

  For more days in a row than she could remember she’d had no flashbacks, no nightmares, no waking terrors. The lazy but exhilarating days had freed her from the pain she had never outrun before.

  All morning she’d felt whole, as if she’d never even been broken.

  That is, until a half hour ago, when Marissa had let go and walked away.

  Her footsteps slowed as she recalled that painful moment. She didn’t know how Marissa had found the strength to let go but when she had, Linda’s own hands had unclenched. Harsh reality, assisted by unwanted memory, began to fill her up again like toxic water pumping out the clean from the well of her soul.

  Pain was an old friend. Now pain murmured the familiar words: run away.

  She glanced back to make sure Marissa’s plane was indeed still 78

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  gone. She took a few steps toward the Air New Zealand area then stopped again.

  She could still feel Marissa’s hands, her mouth, her kisses. She could hear the way Marissa had moaned yes over and over. If she closed her eyes she could see Marissa’s face red with exertion, beaded with sweat and creased with unyielding determination to climb that damn cliff. She had the heart of a lioness and the strength of a woman. A woman’s fragility, passion, sweetness—but Marissa wasn’t the only one, Linda reminded herself. There had been other women in her life who were equally remarkable. The sea was full of diverting, intriguing fish. So why, oh why did she long to go after Marissa?

  She always moved forward, never back. Going back hurt too much.

  Run away, the pain advised. It’s always been the safest choice.

  Let the lawyers track you to the New Zealand bush, to an unoccupied bach not on any map. By then you’ll be in Australia.

  Why was Marissa different? Like all the others, she’d first noticed the false exterior. As with all the others, Linda had laughed and played, flirted and rambled—it was a mask she had worn comfortably since childhood. Marissa had acted just like the others in response.

  Except she hadn’t, not when it mattered.

  Last night. Last night Marissa had wanted and Linda had gladly given. Last night Marissa had wanted more and in the dark had reached for Linda with hunger and touched the only places Linda felt were really her. She’d whispered sweet and powerful things in the dark, reacting to what she felt, not what she saw.

  All the others had stopped listening at some point.

  All the others had never failed to whisper the final blow:

  “You’re so beautiful.”

  She started walking while old pain warred with new, the new pain born when Marissa had disappeared from her sight. Tahiti Faa’a Airport wasn’t very big and she had hours until her flight.

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  Leaving the secured area, she quickly walked to the small marketplace just across the street, losing herself in the bright colors and scents of roasting f
ish and pineapple.

  Marissa had never called her beautiful. Instead, she’d called her strong. Instead of going away and watching the rest of the night as if from a high corner in the room, Linda had stayed in the moment. She had felt everything Marissa had done. Felt it and let it feel good. Orgasm had been terrifying but she had stayed, and let it happen.

  Just before sleep Marissa had asked, “You’re not even a dream I had, so how can you be real?”

  She’d had no answer. She hadn’t felt real at that moment, not in the least. What had been real was the solidity of Marissa against her.

  Wrapped close in Marissa’s arms, Linda had been enveloped by a feeling so foreign and so welcome that she’d known, upon waking to Marissa’s gentle, sweet kisses, that she had cried in her sleep.

  Marissa was gone, and even the memory of the feeling was fading. Abruptly, reliving it was scary. She’d let Marissa close—too close, the pain whispered.

  A long coil of cool blue silk reminded her of Marissa’s eyes. The crimson next to it was the color of her lips in the early morning light. Marissa was everywhere around her and all Linda could think to do was run away.

  You don’t have to go to Auckland, she told herself. All you have to do is keep running. Anywhere is far enough from Boston. Keep them guessing, keep them frustrated.

  “You’ve always made up hurtful lies, Linda.” At their last meeting, her mother’s eyes had matched the onyx beads around her neck. “Money is all you want and you can have it, but you can never repeat these lies again. Sign or get nothing. Sign or we’ll see about another competency hearing.”

  Her pace increased through the swirl of the market. It was always this way, her mother’s voice intruding into everything.

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  Whenever Linda thought she had found quiet at last, she heard her mother.

  Memories of her mother had been only shadows in the glow of Marissa’s presence. Her laughter, especially—Marissa laughed like sunlight. Marissa had a kind of inner glow that vanquished everything murky and foul.