Finders Keepers

by Karin Kallmaker

  She wasn’t disappointed. The chime had barely finished playing before she opened Linda’s answer.

  Dear Marissa,

  I’d love a walk on Saturday.Thank you.

  Yours, Linda

  “How much is this going to hurt?” Marissa thought the warm goop felt kind of good as it was spread on her knees.

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  Her mother, being similarly painted with wax, said, “Not as much as electrolysis.”

  “Huh. If you had wanted me to be prettier when I was little, would you have taken me to electrolysis?”

  “Of course not—well, how little are we talking?”

  “Twelve. The moment my hair went from fine and blond to wiry and dark.”

  “No, not then. If you had had some kind of problem where you were getting teased in school or something, we might have talked about it. But twelve is hard enough. Brace yourself.”

  The wax specialist who was in charge of Marissa’s legs smiled.

  “It’s not that bad. Just take a deep breath and flex your calf muscles for me.”

  Marissa did as she was told and for a frozen moment of time she didn’t feel any pain. Then a rectangular patch of skin on her calf seared with fire and she gasped. “Holy ma-loy! What are we doing this for?”

  “To have legs that feel smooth as a baby’s bottom for three days.”

  “But I had to endure not shaving for nearly two weeks.”

  “Ideally, we’d be going to the Oscars tonight.”

  “Now I know how Jack Lemmon felt preparing for Some Like it Hot.” Marissa braced herself for the next strip removal. She hissed after it was done. “Tell me that mud soak thing we do next isn’t painful.”

  “It’s not. So why were you asking about electrolysis?”

  “I know someone who was taken in at twelve and everything that a skimpy bikini wouldn’t cover was removed.”

  “Ouch. What for?”

  “Beauty pageants.”

  “Well, someone had some skewed priorities.”

  Marissa swallowed back tears, thinking about the chapters of Linda’s life she’d absorbed during two nearly sleepless nights.

  “Plastic surgery. Nose. Eyelids. That started when she was nine.

  Her ears were pinned when she was six.” She hissed again and 206

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  heard a similar sound from her mother as her specialist began removal.

  “Goodness, what were her parents thinking?”

  “Dad wasn’t around. Mom was crazy. That’s why she didn’t get in touch with me, Mom. Linda. She went home to confront her mother.”

  “Oh. Okay, well, that took a day. What did she do with the other three-hundred and sixty-four days?”

  Marissa’s rueful smile was wiped off by the next wax strip, this time from over her knee. “Sshhhh-sugar that hurts. Well, it took more like two months. Lawyers were involved.”

  Her mother nodded understandingly. “And after that?”

  “She got a job, figured out how to keep her head straight then went to Montana for a while. She wrote a memoir so there would be a record somewhere that her mother was bonkers. Then she went back to Yale to finish a degree she’d given up when she had emergency surgery.”

  Marissa found herself telling her mother everything, from the rib removal to the suicide attempts. Hot wax hurt coming off but it was nothing to the pain Linda had endured and as a reward Linda’s mother had called her a failure and tried to throw her away.

  She was so wrapped up in the telling that she didn’t initially realize what the wax specialist wanted when she moved from her legs to her midsection. “What—Oh no. No way. I am not getting waxed there. It’s winter. I won’t be in a swimsuit for months.”

  “Some women think it feels cathartic,” her mother said.

  “Are you doing it?”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “Me neither.” Marissa found a smile for the spa worker, who looked understanding. “Thanks, but no thanks. Honestly, I don’t think I’ll be doing any of this again.” Sure, she was eager to look better and feel good but masochism just didn’t work for her.

  “Your friend,” the small Asian woman said. “The one you were talking about. Is she okay now?”

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  Marissa wasn’t about to explain that Linda’s healing had begun the night they had gone to bed in Tahiti. It awed her, in a very deep place that believed in miracles, that her arms had been safe enough for Linda to stay. She’d relived that night and now when she heard Linda’s whispered, “I’m here,” she knew it hadn’t been for Marissa’s benefit, but for both of them.

  The year of remaking herself ended with Linda’s unsparing honesty of her own lapses into despair and defeat and the difficulties she had had trying to stay in one place, to finish what she had begun and not respond to emotional distress by running away.

  She finally answered the woman’s question. “You know, I think so.”

  “Are you sure, sweetie?” Her mother had slid off the table and stood wrapped in a thick towel, all of which was at odds with the look of concern on her face.

  “Yeah, I do. I’m going to have a walk with her this afternoon.”

  “Well,” her mother said briskly. “We’ll talk about that in the mud bath.”

  In spite of her mother’s well-voiced concerns, Marissa stood at the entrance to the Osage Rose Garden a little before three. Rain was threatening and she hoped she didn’t regret her vain disdain for a raincoat and waterproof shoes in favor of a clingy sweater that made her eyes turquoise and slender, foot-flattering slingbacks.

  Her freshly painted toenails were Pretty Boy Pink to match her fingernails. The wind threatened to destroy the complicated hairdo the spa stylist had urged her to try.

  She didn’t feel quite like herself but she forgot all about that as she watched the nondescript rental car turn into the parking lot.

  She had always seen the tall body as strong and the woman within even more so. But now she knew that there was vulnerabil-ity and steel mixed together. Linda wasn’t a fantasy made up by vacation endorphins, she was a flesh-and-bone woman, as complicated as any.

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  Linda paused for a moment, looking across a small patch of grass toward Marissa. The wind that presaged the storm front lifted her hair from her face and Marissa knew now not to say what pierced to her core, that Linda was beautiful, beautiful beyond Marissa’s ability to describe. If she said it Linda might never believe that Marissa wasn’t looking at her face or her body, but the whole of her.

  She found a smile. She couldn’t believe she was thinking about trusting again, not when the hurt was still there from the last time.

  “Hi,” Linda said softly when she finally reached the spot where Marissa stood waiting.

  “Hi. I read the book.” Then, to her surprise, Marissa started to sob.

  “Oh, honey,” Linda murmured and she pulled Marissa into her arms. “Don’t cry about it. Please. That’s not why I gave it to you.”

  “I know, I know,” Marissa said when she was able. The firmness of Linda’s embrace was intensely comforting. “I didn’t realize I was this upset.”

  “I almost didn’t give it to you because you’re so tenderhearted.

  I never want to make you cry again.”

  “It’s not you that’s making me cry. It’s what happened to you. I so much wish I could have been there and helped you somehow.”

  “I’m here now, that’s what matters.”

  The shaking in her arms eased and Marissa relaxed into Linda’s embrace.

  It could end here, Marissa thought. Monsters and inner demons slain, the two lovers could find peace together, forever. It had happened time and again in all those movies she’d watched with her father. But it wasn’t that simple. Softly, she said, “You can
let go of me now.”

  When Linda’s arms eased from around her, Marissa stepped back. “I don’t know why I even picked here, of all places. The roses aren’t in bloom.”

  “I did wonder, but California is full of wonders.” Linda smiled that cocky grin that Marissa remembered far too well.

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  “We can walk around the park, though.”

  “It’s all ice at home. White and grey slush. The hills here are all green. That alone amazes me.”

  “This is only the start.” Marissa led Linda along the footpath, trying not to imagine Linda’s hands exploring her. Her body was very different from the last time Linda had held it. “By spring the green will hurt your eyes.”

  “I hope to see it. You look wonderful. You’re shaped all differently, but you still . . .”

  “Still what?” Marissa didn’t risk a look at Linda’s face.

  “You still fit. Your head under my chin and my arms around you.”

  “Oh.” Marissa had forgotten how hard she had to crane her neck to look into Linda’s face. “What would have to happen for you to be here in the spring?”

  Linda’s eyes said one thing while her mouth said, “A job, I hope. A kind of a tryout sort of thing, at the Sierra Club.”

  Ignoring the melting message in Linda’s gaze, Marissa asked,

  “Putting all that ecotouring to use?”

  “Yeah, actually. Herding groups of people, understanding habi-tats, cultural variations, all of that. I think, ultimately, I’d like to work on global eco-issues, and there are a number of foundations and funds where I could be truly useful but this will be a start.”

  “I hope it works out.” Linda just gazed at her and Marissa could no longer pretend she didn’t understand. “I need time. I still have feelings for you—”

  Linda made a small sound but Marissa held up her hand.

  “I do have feelings for you but it’s a big jumble in my head right now. I understand why you did what you did. But it hurt.”

  “I know.”

  “I forgive you, I really do, Linda. Can we just leave it at that for now?” She wiped away an errant tear, then felt a drop on her face.

  Linda peered up at the sky. “It seems we’re going to have some rain.”

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  Marissa turned back toward the parking lot. Within a few steps the drops turned into a proper downpour and she quickened her pace. “My car is closer,” she yelled, and broke into a flat out run.

  She paid for her vanity halfway to the car, losing her footing in a bit of mud. The impractical shoes found no purchase and she sprawled, face down, across the path.

  “Ah, hell,” she said, after she spit out a mouthful of mud.

  Linda was down on one knee in the mud. “Marissa, honey, are you okay? That was quite a fall.”

  “I think I’m oh . . . oh . . . no no no.” She rolled over and her left ankle protested. “Dang it, I think I’ve twisted something.”

  Linda gingerly touched the rapidly swelling skin. “You’ve definitely done something. Let’s get you into my car.”

  “Mine’s closer.”

  “Mine’s a rental and you’re covered with mud.”

  “Good point.”

  Linda lifted her easily onto one foot, then before Marissa could protest, all the way into her arms.

  She sniffed. “Just don’t go thinking this is how it is. You Financier, me Ginger needing rescuing.”

  Linda was making good time along the path. “Fair enough. I’ll rescue you just this once, then.”

  “Well, there was the cliff.”

  “You did that yourself.”

  “You helped. This isn’t what I had planned.”

  There was a rumble in Linda’s chest that Marissa knew full well was a laugh. “I can’t say the same.”

  “I hope I can walk by tonight.”

  “Do you have a date or something?”

  “Yes, I do. A very important one. Reservations made months ago.”

  “Well, milady.” Linda set Marissa down next to the sedan as if she was a porcelain doll. She wasn’t even breathing hard, not that Marissa could tell.

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  Marissa wiped rain out of her eyes and her hand came away covered in muck. She had to hop to keep her balance as Linda found her keys. “Yes, good sir knight?”

  “If necessary, I will carry you on a pillow to your assignation.”

  “It’s not an assignation.” Linda got the door open and Marissa gratefully sank into the passenger seat. “It’s Philip’s sixtieth birth-day.”

  Leaning out into the rain to examine her ankle in the somewhat better light outside the car, Marissa prodded and winced.

  Linda opined, “Just a sprain. If you ice it now and wrap it, you might be able to hobble. Shall I take you home?”

  “My car.”

  “Can someone come and get it?”

  Marissa reached into her sodden handbag. With some careful adjustments she was able to swing her legs inside and allow Linda to shut the door. Her cell phone chirped that it had found the signal. “Mom? Where are you? I’ve twisted my ankle.”

  “I was just running an errand in Danville. What do you need?”

  “I’m at the Osage Rose Garden. Maybe you could drive my car home and Linda could bring you back for yours?”

  “Oh, you’re with Linda.”

  “Yeah. I slipped in some mud.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Too late Marissa realized this was perhaps not the best of plans.

  “If it’s too big a bother—”

  “Oh, I assure you, it’s no bother at all.” Her mother hung up before Marissa could say another word.

  “Sorry,” she said as Linda eased into the driver’s seat.

  “What for?”

  “Mud all over that gorgeous blouse and my mother is on the way.”

  “Oh. Huh. Your mom.”

  “She’s changed a bit. We’re getting along better. It helps that we listen more. She’s, um, eager to meet you.”

  “Hell.”

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  “Yeah, well, like I said, sorry.”

  Linda turned in the seat to look at her. “So, here we are.”

  “Tell me about the job you interviewed for.” Don’t hold my hand, Marissa wanted to say. Don’t sit so close. Don’t lean toward me and kiss me, please, don’t do anything like that, because right now I couldn’t care less about the pain in my leg. Right now all I can smell is your cologne and all I can feel is the warmth of you.

  Right now I couldn’t find a no to save my life.

  Linda dutifully launched into a detailed explanation, and that passed the time until Marissa saw her mother’s BMW streaking across the lot toward them. She rolled down the window and waved, then dug in her purse for her keys as her mother pulled into the next space.

  “Shall I follow you? I’m not sure I could find your place on my own.”

  “Sure.” She passed the keys over and her mother backed out again to re-park next to Marissa’s car. “Okay,” Marissa said to Linda. “Go out to the street and bear right.”

  “If you get me onto Raven Canyon, I can find it from there.”

  “Oh.”

  “I had a lot of time to look at maps.”

  “Right then. At the stop sign turn left.” She rubbed her arms and could feel nothing but cold and muddy.

  “How about some heat?” Linda played with the controls at Marissa’s nod. “Poor thing, you’re shivering.”

  “Just reaction.” Sure, it had nothing to do with the mud and icy water she could feel running into her underwear. “At the light turn left. Then you’re on the freeway.”

  “I know where I am now, thanks. Just close your eyes, okay?”

  Well this was a mess, Mari
ssa thought. She wasn’t sure she wanted Linda in her life, and whoopee, she got carried up her own stairs by Linda and now Linda was surveying the wreck of her living room and the dozen years of Marissa finding new and interesting ways to fit more crap into the same space.

  Plus, her mother was watching. Truth be told, her mother 213

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  looked a little bit faint—she hadn’t seen the inside of Marissa’s place in years now.

  Her mother recovered from the shock enough to say, “Carry my daughter into the bedroom and I’ll take it from there. Then you can drive me back to my car.”

  “Bathroom, take me to the bathroom. I want a hot shower.”

  Marissa could feel that Linda’s heart was beating hard. She pointed.

  Linda set her down in front of the sink. The room was quickly crowded when her mother joined them.

  “I don’t need an audience to my shower, thank you. It was just an accident, a mistake, just like I was an accident.” She rolled her eyes at her mother.

  “Marissa, sweetie.” Her mother looked at her in shock. “You might have been an accident but never, ever were you a mistake!”

  “I’ll just leave now.” Linda quickly stepped into the little hallway.

  Marissa shut the bathroom door, only to snatch it open again.

  “Call me, okay?”

  “I intended to bring you breakfast tomorrow morning.”

  “Oh.” Marissa nodded. “Okay. We’ll try for something a little more normal than you heap big strong, me weak fall down.”

  Her mother firmly shut the door between Linda and Marissa again. “You didn’t say she was that beautiful.”

  “Oh, Mom, I mean, what’s to say? Look in any magazine and they’re describing electric dog polishers as beautiful. I don’t have words to describe her adequately.”

  “How does she make you feel?”

  “Like a blithering fool. And I actually don’t like the feeling very much. I’ve worked really hard not to go to pieces just because she looks at me like she can’t wait to get me into bed, like I’m the one who’s beautiful. Oh hell, Mom. I can’t talk to you about sex and my ankle really hurts.”

  “I asked how she made you feel and that’s talking about sex?