Finders Keepers

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Finders Keepers Page 25

by Karin Kallmaker


  “It’s not their life, now is it?”

  “Nope. Which means I can’t blame them if I make the wrong decision. Either choice and I might have huge regrets.”

  “Which stack of regrets will you be sorrier for?”

  “Well, that’s a good question.” She gathered her mail and tested her ankle before putting her weight on it. It was feeling better by the hour but she didn’t want to slow down her recovery. “I’m going to give that some thought.”

  Settled at her desk, she made no special effort to check her e-mail any more quickly than she would have any other morning.

  She didn’t scan the new messages looking for any particular name, either. There wasn’t supposed to be e-mail from Linda and there wasn’t. Fine. Good.

  She made herself focus on work. She’d been putting off studying the feedback from clients who dropped the program without finding someone they liked. The follow-up questionnaire could only provide so much information because if it was too detailed no one would fill it out. Which of the 700 questions didn’t ask the right thing? Which comparison didn’t screen out why someone hadn’t bonded with any of their 95 to 98 percent results?

  “Oh, look, she’s studying our failures.” Ocky dropped into the empty chair, looking pleased. “The cable advertising rep just told me they were lowering rates in a couple of the markets.”

  “Very cool.”

  “You have the biggest frown line right now.”

  Marissa groaned. “Yes, these are our failures. You know, Ocky, 235

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  where do I—a virtual relationship virgin at the age of thirty-five—

  get off telling anyone who they are and aren’t compatible with? I can’t figure it out for myself, even.”

  “You don’t tell anybody anything. Your program gives them potential. That’s all.”

  “None of these people found potential. One of my dates said it was like a mini-therapy session. All I’ve programmed is an abstract exercise in personality analysis.”

  “Hey. Don’t talk about yourself that way.” Ocky sat forward in the chair to put her elbows on the edge of Marissa’s desk. “Don’t start doubting what you know you know. You told me, when we first started—remember, I was the one with the string of relationships and I thought each one ended for a different reason. First, you pointed out that all my exes eventually held me in contempt for something I did to them. Every relationship ended for exactly the same reason, every time. And, you know, I took the very same exact psych classes you did and you got that point and I never did.”

  “Maybe because you were having a life and I wasn’t.

  Remember, it was my junior year before I was no longer a theoret-ical lesbian.”

  Ocky laughed. “Well, you obviously did something while dwelling in that ivory tower. You got very smart.” She crossed one excellent leg over the other. “So first you diagnosed my relationship woes—not that I ever changed a thing but at least now I can see the contempt coming and move on before she boots me out.

  Then you told me not to confuse anecdotes from real life with the analysis of data. Which at first I thought was the whole problem with logic because life is real and messy.”

  “Tell me about it.” Marissa heaved an enormous sigh. “My work here has acted as if there is no mess in real life. That people will behave like preprogrammed puppets.”

  “But ’Rissa, we all do. We’re all who we are. You figured a way to capture the essence of someone’s deep-down programming.

  Does she laugh when a bucket falls on someone’s head? Does he lie to please his mother? Does she want someone who sees her body 236

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  or her brain? Does he want someone to take care of or someone to take care of him? You give the computer the outline of a puzzle piece and instead of our poor clients wading through the entire puzzle box looking for the possible fits, the computer does it for them.”

  Marissa lifted one eyebrow. “Even a corner piece has two perfect fits.”

  “There are puzzles with pieces that have any number of perfect fits and only people who see the big picture ever figure out the right one.” Ocky added drily, “Let’s not kill ourselves with the analogy.”

  “I’m all hung up on the perfect fit. I know that ninety-nines are rare and we’ve never seen a hundred score.”

  “To my mind, hunny-bunny, it’s up to the people involved to take a ninety-five or a ninety-eight and make it a hundred.”

  Unwillingly, Marissa laughed. “Ocky, I swear you could sell sand to Arabians.”

  “You work your magic, I’ll work mine.”

  Ocky chatted for a few more minutes then rushed off to a meeting. Sniffing the air for the long-loved scent of Ocky’s perfume, Marissa closed her eyes for a moment.

  Dear Ocky,

  I’m over the crush, but I surely do like you.

  Love, Marissa

  P.S. Please don’t ever change your cologne.

  Marissa stirred her iced tea and glanced at her watch. It wasn’t quite seven . . . then she knew she should look up because the light changed and she heard surf and yes Linda was right there in the restaurant doorway.

  Their gazes locked. Linda smiled as she shook a few raindrops 237

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  off her hair. The loosely knit tan sweater shot with gold height-ened the sparkle in her eyes and for the first time Marissa knew what Ocky meant by legs that went from here to Argentina. Those thoughts no sooner crossed her mind than the limitless smile seemed to pull her right out of her skin and into the warmth of an amber Tahitian sunrise, watching Linda sleep. No moment in her life had been as precious and she wanted more.

  Marissa was aware of everything, including each throb of the pulse in her throat and the whisper of air through her nose as she tried to conquer her erratic breathing. Like that last morning in Tahiti, taking in the beautiful wonder that was Linda, this moment was all there was and she didn’t want it, or any of the ones that followed, to end.

  “I walked over and got a little wet.” Linda brushed her hair with one hand.

  “Rain will do that.” Well, that was inane, Marissa thought.

  “Hi,” Linda said softly as she slid into the booth across from Marissa.

  “Hi.” Marissa had never felt more shy.

  “You look wonderful. I meant to tell you Sunday. You look so very good.”

  “Do you like it better?” The question slipped out before Marissa could stop herself. But she did want to know the answer.

  “Not better. I find it equally attractive.” Marissa knew her skepticism showed because Linda quickly added, “I think you feel you’re more attractive and that aura of you liking who you are more than ever I find very attractive.”

  “You . . . are still a sweet talker and a flirt, Linda.”

  “Why thank you. Nice to know that still works.” She winked.

  They studied the menu. When the waitress arrived Linda ordered a sushi platter while Marissa went for grilled yellowtail with pineapple-mango salsa.

  Linda observed, “All we need is something involving bananas, rum and coconut all blended up and served under an umbrella.”

  “Sunshine and a pristine beach would help.”

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  Linda’s gaze traveled from Marissa’s hands to her hair to her mouth. “I thought you were gorgeous in the lifeboat. I still think you’re gorgeous.”

  As she fiddled with her napkin, Marissa asked, “That last night?

  You turned off the light. Why?” She looked up to study Linda’s face.

  “That was for me. I felt safer, like I wouldn’t go away as quickly, in the dark. Because you couldn’t see me. Later I wished I hadn’t turned it off because I wanted to see your face when you . . .” She shrugged and glanced meaningfully at the crowded nearby tables.

  “Why did you think I turne
d it off?”

  Oh dear lord, Marissa thought, I’m a goner. She keeps healing the little hurts, even the ones I gave myself. “So you didn’t have to look at me.”

  “Seriously? That’s not what I meant at all.” Linda’s leaned forward, her voice low. “I held the vision of your face in my mind during so many dark hours. Not because you were some kind of unreal saving angel or guiding muse but because you showed me what it looked like to live and try. I remembered what you said about contempt and I wanted to be absolutely sure you could respect me, even if you couldn’t love me . . . the way you had. So I had to keep trying, because you never gave up.”

  “Do you want me to love you the way I did? I didn’t really know you. Damn.” She smiled brightly at the waitress who paused to set down Linda’s lemonade and top off Marissa’s iced tea. “This might not be a great discussion to have in such a public place.”

  “Yeah,” Linda agreed. One hand uncurled on the table top.

  “You’re too far away.”

  “Sit next to me,” Marissa invited. She scooted over and then half-turned to find herself within the arc of Linda’s long arm, which stretched across the back of the booth. Given how Linda’s nearness was going to her head she was glad she’d not ordered a drink.

  In a low voice, she said, “When you wrote in the book that you weren’t sure that you’d fallen in love with ‘Ginger’ in Tahiti—with 239

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  me—more than you loved the way I made you feel, you could have been quoting me. I wasn’t sure either. I know that I adored how I felt around you. And that I loved it when you smiled, and were happy. Sometimes there were shadows in your face and I wanted to chase them away.”

  Linda inclined her head and Marissa tried not to focus on how much she wanted to burrow her lips into the pulse point on Linda’s throat. “And you did. You did so well that I realized I couldn’t live with them anymore. I had to learn to chase them away myself.”

  “I’m glad,” Marissa said earnestly. “I am so glad for you. So glad that you feel whole again.”

  “Oh, I’m getting there at least. It does feel like parts of me are now all in the same head, working together toward the same goals.”

  “Such as?”

  Linda just stared at her for a minute before saying, “One thing is a career I can not only enjoy but leaves me feeling like I can make a difference.” A blinding smile made Marissa blink. “I didn’t get the job, by the way.”

  “But you’re happy about that?”

  “They offered me another one and I accepted.”

  “Yeah? Tell me everything.” She’s staying, Marissa thought. I’ll see her again. And again.

  “They figured fresh out of school I might be able to study and learn things, so they want me to work on the campaign to raise the amount of open space along the coastline of California and Oregon. Every city, county and of course both states have to agree to take the land over and there are often obligations, expenses, overdue taxes, easements from utilities, which live outside a lot of laws. Is this too boring?”

  “Not at all,” Marissa assured her. Try as she might she couldn’t get her gaze to lift past Linda’s lips. “I’m interested.”

  “Really?” Linda leaned forward, not even an inch, then moved back with a little gasp. “So, um, they need someone to organize the 240

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  interns and review their work because it’s piles and piles of deeds and trusts and so on. It’s not very sexy but it’s important.”

  Marissa studied how the light softened and shadowed the con-tours of Linda’s cheeks and all she could think was that Linda would be staying. For a while. Long enough to know . . . to figure it all out. “I get that. Yes, the kind of behind-the-scenes work that nobody really sees but is vital to the process.”

  The meals were delivered and Marissa cheerfully dug in. “It’s a relief sometimes not to think about how many calories is in what I’m eating.”

  “Do you have a goal in mind?”

  “Yes, another twenty pounds.”

  “Really? Are you sure? You’ll be skin and bones.”

  “Bless you for making me feel like I could ever be too thin.”

  With a shake of the head, Marissa added, “It’s still twenty pounds more than those insurance charts say I should weigh but I’m not trying to get into some unrealistic sized clothing or look like—”

  She directed a glance at the slender, very attractive blonde who walked by their table in jeans no bigger than a pencil. “Like that.”

  “You’re a voluptuous, large-framed woman—to be that thin you’d have to give up your muscle.”

  “Exactly.” Marissa gave a confident shrug. “I’m not doing The Devil Wears Prada here. My real goal is having the strength and endurance to do the things I want for the rest of my life. Like climb a cliff when my life depends on it.” See the world one step at a time with you, she added to herself, not to mention redefining lovemaking as an aerobic sport.

  “I like your muscles. I like your curves,” Linda said seriously.

  “And I’m glad you like them too. You’re naturally beautiful.” She dabbed wasabi on a slice of dragon roll. “Do you want some?”

  Marissa told herself sternly not to cry, even though she was wounded all over again by the knowledge that some of Linda’s body wasn’t of her own choosing. “Sure—trade you some fish and salsa?”

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  “Yes, please. Scamming some of your dinner was actually my whole goal.”

  “Greedy.”

  “Yes,” Linda said, not looking at the food.

  A hard swallow later, Marissa asked, “And you? Are you liking the body you have more than you did? I was aware, back then, that you were at times uncomfortable about it. I didn’t know why.”

  Linda dabbed at a few fallen grains of rice with her finger.

  There was tension in her shoulders for a second, then Marissa could feel it leave her again.

  Finally, Linda said, “I can’t change the past. This is the way I am now. That it wasn’t my choice is a big deal, sure. But going forward, keeping this body this way is my choice. Therefore, this is my body. And I like it.”

  “So do I,” Marissa said sincerely. “And even more, I like the woman who will bash on a coconut for two hours.”

  After a pause, Linda whispered, “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Say exactly the right thing.”

  Marissa had no answer but she let her eyes try to speak.

  Whatever Linda saw in them deepened the tenderness evident in her own gaze. The people around us, Marissa thought, will need insulin shots if we keep this up.

  Most of the food was gone before the conversation touched on the issues Marissa could still feel trembling between them.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Marissa said.

  “Which one?”

  “Do you want me to love you the way I did?”

  “Yes. I mean, I want your love. Whether it’s the way you felt before or a brand new way, I don’t care. I know that you’ve changed. I can see it. I’ve changed too.”

  “You made me feel like nobody ever had. And when you didn’t come back I really missed that feeling.” And I missed you, Marissa wanted to add. I missed hearing you laugh and watching you eat and making every minute an adventure. The truth of her feelings was pounding in her heart.

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  “And now?”

  “I’ve learned how to get the awareness of myself, as you saw me—attractive, sexy, even—”

  Linda leaned a little closer to whisper, “Hell, yes. You are so very sexy.”

  “And you say I’m the one who knows just what to say.”

  “I speak truth.”

  Marissa wanted to lean forward three inches and kiss Linda for the next three
hours. “I know that I can be interesting and intelligent and I’m worth being loved. It’s like I can all by myself finally get enough of the good stuff to make life worth living. I could be content. But when I’m with you . . .” She searched for words.

  “It’s like megawatts more.”

  “Yeah. Like that.” Marissa put down her fork to hide her shaking hands. “From the beginning I have wondered if I loved you or if I loved the way you made me feel.”

  “Does the difference matter?”

  A helpless smile took over Marissa’s mouth. “Middle of the night I asked myself that same question. Does the difference really matter?

  I don’t have to run my feelings through seven hundred questions.

  People can and do fall in love . . . without . . .” Oh dear, Marissa thought. She wasn’t at all sure she should have said that last bit.

  “When you look like that I want to kiss you.”

  Her reflection, the woman she was becoming, was bright and real in Linda’s eyes. “When I feel like this I want you to kiss me and never stop.” The air in the restaurant was stifling now.

  “Maybe, just maybe, I love how you make me feel because I’m in love with you. And because I’m in love with you I love the way you make me feel. It’s an infinite loop, a Mobius strip, perpetual reflection. God, I’m blithering again.”

  “You are not,” Linda said. One hand, under the table, took hers and squeezed. “You make sense to me, Marissa. You always have.”

  “I promise,” Marissa said in a very low voice, “not to call you beautiful, though I think you are.” The heat of Linda’s hand quickly increased the already raging firestorm in other parts of Marissa’s body.

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  “I would like,” Linda said in a conversational tone, “to pay the check and get out of here.”

  “And go where?” Marissa glanced outside and was stunned to see that it was raining. Where were the beach and the unending horizon? She looked back at Linda and goodness, she was getting sappier by the minute, she thought, because they were there, in Linda’s eyes.

  “My motel is right across the street.” Linda’s gaze was, for a moment, without any kind of intent, then a grin creased her face.

 

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