Finders Keepers

by Karin Kallmaker

  In fact, nothing seemed to have changed. The cold winter was the same chilling fog, the traffic just as clogged and Ocky as focused on business as ever. Nothing had changed. Except me.

  “So I’m thinking this women’s network is the best thing we’ve gotten into so far. I want to try a kind of Tupperware party con-cept—group signups and support.”

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  Normally, Marissa would have eagerly discussed the possibilities but instead she said, “Can we talk about it tomorrow? I’d like my vacation to last just one more day. Well, what’s left of it.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Ocky didn’t say anything for a few minutes, leaving Marissa to worry she’d pissed her off. Well, if she had, Ocky would get over it.

  The clock in Ocky’s vintage Rambler didn’t work. “What time is it here?”

  Ocky glanced at her watch. “Four-seventeen.”

  “Huh. It’s tomorrow in Tahiti, not quite noon. We’d be having fruit soup and a glass of wine.”

  “We?” Ocky changed lanes to enter the approach to the Bay Bridge. “Damn good thing it’s Sunday or you’d be taking BART.”

  “A friend and I. We stayed on Huahine instead of going back to Papeete with everyone else. I wasn’t ready to end my vacation in spite of having only the clothes on my back. Well, I did have clean underthings. I’ll have to thank my mom.”

  “A fate worse than death. Was she attractive, this friend?”

  Glad that Ocky’s attention was on the traffic, Marissa fought back a blush. “Yes, she was very beautiful. Kind of Xena-esque, or Wonder Woman. The best thing about her was her sense of humor though. We had a really relaxed time together. She taught me how to snorkel.”

  “You, snorkeling?”

  Miffed that Ocky seemed so skeptical, Marissa protested, “Hey, I got good at it. We could walk out of the bungalow, across a hundred feet of white sand and into the lagoon where there was loads of fish and turtles. It changed every tide.”

  “Wow. That sounds fabulous. Like paradise.”

  Marissa sighed. “It was. Did you know it takes about two hours to whack open a coconut?”

  Glad to have diverted Ocky from the topic of who she’d stayed with, Marissa alternated between animated descriptions of the island and bouts of sleepiness. The familiar landscape whisked by.

  She wondered, idiotically she told herself, if there’d be a message on her answering machine from Linda.

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  Ocky helped her with the duffle up to her door and gave her another enthusiastic hug. “Well, it sounds like you had a great time in spite of it all. I’m glad you’re back safely, really.”

  “Oh, me too, believe me.” She returned Ocky’s hug and caught herself inhaling the scent of Ocky’s cologne. “Thanks a lot for the airport pick up. If I’d taken the train I’d have woken up at the end of the line.”

  “Sleep in tomorrow if you need to,” was Ocky’s parting advice.

  Marissa watched her oldest and dearest friend lightly run down the stairs, firm legs wrapped into snug-fitting leggings topped by an eye-catching sweater that highlighted her slenderness. Yes, the attraction to Ocky was still there but at the moment it felt like a habit she might finally be able to break.

  There were three messages on her answering machine, all from her mother. She clicked through the expressions of concern, trying not to be disappointed that Linda hadn’t called. Linda was on her way to New Zealand—was there by now. She would hear from her in a couple of days. A postcard, a note, a call—something.

  Fighting a sense of dread, she dialed her mother. With relief she heard the voice mail greeting. “Hi, Mom. I’m home safe and sound but totally exhausted. I’m going right to sleep. Talk to you later this week.”

  She managed to stay awake until seven, heeding advice that the best way to fight jetlag was to get back to the sleep pattern of her time zone as quickly as possible. Hot tomato soup was a far cry from seafood gazpacho and she made a sleepy vow to do better in all of her bad habits.

  She showered, brushed her teeth, combed her hair. Was very glad she’d put clean sheets on the bed before leaving. She sank blissfully into her own bed, the familiar smells, light and sounds—

  sleep came in like a wave, floating her to dreamland.

  Blinking in the unwelcome glare of the bathroom light, Marissa stepped off the scale. Stepped back on. Stepped off again and went in search of a new battery for the thing.

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  She popped open her first Diet Coke of the day on her way back to the bathroom but held off taking a sip until she squared away the scale. She wanted to know what the damage was from the trip so she could add the pounds to her ever-present weight loss goals.

  New battery in place, she stepped back on the scale. Stepped off again. Something wasn’t right. Stepped on—there was no way she’d lost nine pounds. They’d been eating constantly. No hella-cious exercise, just the paddling in the lagoon and walks on the beach. Yet the scale didn’t change its result.

  Even after she’d consumed more than half the Diet Coke, the scale didn’t change. Remembering what Linda had said about eating in the morning made her unearth a box of cereal. She ate the rice squares in the car on her way to the office.

  “You look fantastic!” Heather greeted Marissa like a long-lost sister. “Octavia said you were tanned and gorgeous and she was right.”

  Flushing, Marissa had a hard time believing Ocky had said anything of the sort. “Oh, she says that about all the girls.”

  Pushing her way through the master doors to the bullpen she was greeted by shouts of “Surprise!” and a barrage of camera flashes.

  Damien, who could sell computer matchmaking to monks, was using his tape dispenser as a microphone. “Bob Blowhard reporting from the homecoming celebration for local hero Marissa Chabot. So tell us, Miss Chabot, how does it feel to be back from your harrowing adventure?”

  “It feels great, Bob, really great.” She grinned at the gathered staff, noting the pineapples stuck on the ends of all the cube dividers. “The Professor created huts for us out of palm leaves and then a suave financier whisked me away on her yacht to safety.”

  There was a lot of hooting, hugging and laughing as she made her way to her office. More than one person commented on her tan and several pointed out her hair had taken on some golden highlights.

  “You should keep those,” Bianca advised, her perfectly coiffed head tipped to one side. “You look much less serious.”

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  It was a bit of a come down to discover her desk piled deep with paperwork. Ocky was right—the women’s business network they’d finally worked their way into was proving a good source of clients.

  There were concerns from staff about the relative slowness with which clients were getting back their composite profile results.

  There were numerous concerns about security on the SQL server.

  By the middle of the day she was immersed in the job again as if she’d never left. A knock on her doorjamb brought her out of her focus on the last polling reports.

  “A bunch of us are going to the Iron Horse Cafe—wanna come along?” Heather brushed a nervous hand through her hair.

  Marissa started to say she didn’t have time but she knew if she stayed at her desk she’d eat the two candy bars in the drawer and have a headache by three. “Sure. I could use a break.”

  On the walk to the nearby deli, Marissa answered questions about the shipwreck—yes, it was terrifying, no, they’d not seen any sharks—and found herself enjoying the fresh air. She’d always thought it a bit far to go but today they seemed to arrive in no time.

  Just as she was about to order her usual burger and fries she spotted wrapped packages of sushi. A bowl of vegetable beef soup and the sushi was very appealing.

  “
No way,” Heather said. “You’re going to eat raw fish?”

  “Actually . . .” Marissa peered at the package. “I don’t think there’s anything raw in this one. Next time I’ll get the nigiri.”

  “You are blowing my mind. Where’s the Marissa who wouldn’t even try California Roll?” Heather bit into her thick chicken salad sandwich.

  “Gone, I hope. The seafood was fantastic on the island and I had no idea tuna had a couple of different parts that are different colors and textures. I’m thirty-four and I’ve discovered raw fish.”

  “I was thinking you were back on a diet.” Bianca pushed her glasses back up her nose. “That’s very light fare, overall.”

  “Actually, I lost weight. Apparently being shipwrecked is a great diet plan. I don’t want to blow a trend so . . .” She indicated her 94

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  meal. “But I don’t think I can fit in a couple hours of snorkeling a day, and a long walk.”

  “I’ve been thinking about joining a gym.” Heather’s struggles with her weight paralleled Marissa’s own. They probably wore the same size, but Heather was three inches taller.

  Before Marissa really thought about it, she heard herself say, “I will if you will.”

  “Really? I just can’t make myself do it alone.”

  “Sure. I really will do it.”

  “There’s a women’s gym on the other side of the freeway,”

  Heather said eagerly. “I checked it out a few weeks ago and it didn’t seem at all like a meat market. Lots of ordinary women there. No skinny bitches.”

  “Hey,” Bianca said.

  “You’re not a skinny bitch,” Heather said quickly. “I know how hard you work to stay thin.”

  “It’s not thin I’m after.” Bianca chewed another bite of her chopped salad. “Some of us are born cheetahs but I was born a wildebeest. I’m just trying to make sure the cheetahs can’t catch me.”

  “Cheetahs? Like who?” One of the sales reps Marissa didn’t know well looked up from her burger.

  “Not who—what. My personal cheetahs are heart disease and diabetes. They run in the family.” Bianca shrugged. “I want to see my kids graduate high school. I want to be able to chase my grand-kids some day and not have a wheezing fit.”

  Heather nodded at Bianca over her soda. “I want to wear two sizes smaller by the time of my five-year reunion this summer.”

  I don’t want to be a helpless fat chick for the rest of my life, Marissa nearly said aloud. Given everything that had happened with Linda, she hadn’t thought much about that moment in the hotel bathroom when she hadn’t recognized herself in the mirror.

  I don’t want to be helpless. I want to be strong too.

  Someday soon Linda would show up and when she did Marissa wanted to be able to keep up with whatever adventures Linda 95

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  might propose. She finished her sushi and soup lost in thought.

  Joining a gym couldn’t hurt, that was for sure.

  Heather eagerly proposed going to the nearby gym right after work, before they lost their nerve. Marissa thought the club felt comfortable with only women clients.

  A perky, size-three trainer named Pinny showed them the basic set up and explained the class schedule for spin and aerobic classes.

  Marissa was musing that spin classes sounded more like dance when she realized they were structured stationary cycle workouts.

  Okay . . . she had some learning to do.

  “Let me show you something.” Pinny led them to a small table outside the locker room. “This is what five pounds of fat looks like.”

  Marissa examined the painted Styrofoam model that Pinny was holding in both hands. Lumpy and dun brown, it wasn’t pretty to look at and was about the size of a bread box. But she was certain she had five pounds of fat on each thigh alone and Pinny’s model was three times the size of either of her thighs.

  “And this is what five pounds of muscle looks like.” Now the model was a trim coil about the size of Marissa’s upper arm. “See the difference? Sleek, and compact—this is what a regular aerobic workout can do for you. Turn this fat into this muscle.”

  Marissa knew a sales pitch when she heard one and wasn’t surprised when Pinny drew up a plan that included three months of intensive training. The price tag was over two thousand dollars and even though she was totally motivated, she balked at the idea of that kind of investment. Heather couldn’t possibly afford that either.

  “Can’t we join up and have someone show us what the machines do and propose a basic, safe workout?”

  Pinny looked quite crestfallen but Marissa resisted the urge to make her feel better by getting out a credit card. She wanted to be more healthy—why did she feel like she was buying a used car?

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  “We do have basic enrollment but your results won’t be all they could be.”

  “Could you show us those figures? And prices for training on an as-needed basis?”

  “Sure.” Her smile greatly dimmed, Pinny reached for a different binder. Sounding more like Eeyore than Tigger, she added,

  “It’s our most popular plan.”

  Heather bounced her way to her car after they’d paid their initial fee. “Thank you so much for going with me! I’d have never asked to be shown something else for prices but no way could I afford all those lessons. I’d have made some excuse and left without intending to go back. Thank you so much. You are just the best boss ever!”

  Startled by the quick hug that accompanied Heather’s bounc-ing, Marissa let herself laugh. “If you hadn’t been there I’d have done the same thing. But we’re motivated and ready to go. So tomorrow bring a gym bag, baggy sweats and a ripped T-shirt and we’ll go after work.”

  “I am totally with you. No primping for the gym. Not for at least the first twenty-five pounds!”

  Marissa opted for the grocery store instead of the drive-thru and ended up having a low-fat frozen dinner. She sorted her laundry while it microwaved and discovered, with a rush of nostalgic tears, that she had Linda’s T-shirt, the pale green one with the dog dressed in snorkeling gear. She would look forward to the chance to return it. Meanwhile . . . she wouldn’t put it under her pillow or anything like that. At least not until after she’d washed it.

  The lean dinner was somewhat satisfying but she only had so much willpower, however, and so chased it with two scoops of her favorite Phish Food frozen yogurt. She enjoyed every bite of her treat and didn’t think—at least not often—that it would have all tasted better if there’d been a message from Linda.

  Dear Linda:

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  and you. I miss you and I wish I were there or you were here.

  I’ve decided to join a gym with a coworker because I think next time I’d like to help other people up the cliff instead of being helped myself.

  Love,

  Marissa, Day 1 without you

  P.S.

  I think “love” is the right word. I wish I’d had the courage to use it when you could hear me say it.

  “I’m so glad you’ve decided to resume our work. I’m also looking forward to hearing about your travels.” Dr. Kirkland quietly shut her door behind Linda, who moved comfortably across the office to the sunny window nook.

  “Suddenly it was rather clear that there was more work to do.”

  She set her day pack at her feet as she oozed down into one of the two oversized chairs.

  “Do you want to tell me about that?”

  Linda grinned. “Yeah. That would be why I made the appointment.”

  Dr. Kirkland smiled back. “I had to start somewhere, even if it was a silly question. So what happened?”

  “Marissa happened.”

  “You met someone special.”

 
“Yeah. Very. I noticed her right away in the lifeboat. She had this great sense of humor—”

  “Lifeboat?” Dr. Kirkland shook her head. “I’m sorry I interrupted you, Linda, but I think you’ve left out something important.”

  Laughter bubbled past Linda’s lips. “The cruise ship I was on sank in the middle of our first night out.”

  “That’s sounds traumatic.”

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  “It wasn’t—see, that’s the thing. It wasn’t traumatic at all.

  Marissa and other people were looking to me to help. First, I could translate some of the Italian to English. And I’d read all those survivalist books the last time I was at that place, you know?” Dr. K

  nodded and Linda continued, “I felt very confident and competent and that was what Marissa seemed to need from me. I don’t think she really noticed what I looked like until after . . . she liked me.”

  Dr. Kirkland nodded with an edge of excitement. “Yes, I can see how that would really feel good to you. That’s one of your bigger issues, not being certain why people are attracted to you as either friends or lovers.”

  “Well, this was obviously not about how I looked, but what I could do. What I did. It was great. I’d never felt better. Marissa’s chunky and doesn’t work out so there was a cliff everyone had to climb and I didn’t think she could do it but I encouraged her and talked to her while she tried and dang!” Linda wanted to laugh just remembering how wonderful it had felt to watch Marissa succeed.

  “She needed a little push and I did a little pulling at the end but she did it. And laughed when it was over. I think I fell for her right then.”

  Dr. Kirkland made a note on the left side of her tablet. Linda remembered notes made there would be shared at the end of the session. Notes on the right probably not. “So you spent time together and feelings emerged?”

  “Yeah. We spent a few days just hanging out in Tahiti. I wasn’t watching myself talk to her. I was talking to her. And it went on for all the days we were together. I didn’t have any nightmares or sleep problems either.”