Love by the Numbers

by Karin Kallmaker

  Going on six weeks ago she’d been desperate for an escape. Nothing had really changed. This job was temporary and that bitch Boone was still determined to keep her name in the public mind. She’d had time to heal a little, that’s all. She’d had the pleasure of doing a job well, and regained some confidence. What professional prospects she had were improved.

  Personally, though, she’d really screwed up. How was it that sex with a stranger had seemed a safe declaration of freedom, but sex with Nicole was a danger to her future?

  She lost track of time, replaying those fantastic, passionate hours in Nicole’s arms. Words of desire, kisses of pure fire and a clear, physical connection were brilliant in her mind.

  Ultimately, however, she could not recall one word of affection or one whisper of love.

  Chapter Twenty

  Nicole looked at Lily’s text message in disbelief. She fumbled with her phone buttons and scrolled up to read it again.

  “Must go back to New York. Side door was unlocked, got my things. Will be in touch about tour changes. Hugs to all.”

  Had Lily been offended that she couldn’t come into Kate’s room with Juliet there? No, her eyes had been clear, her skin color unchanged. Nicole would swear that Lily had had no intention of leaving town two hours ago.

  Whatever the reason for her abrupt departure, the result was clear. She would not see Lily later today. Wouldn’t hear her laughter fill the house or see her delicate hands holding one of the university’s coffee mugs. She’d been dreading memories of Lily further intruding into every aspect of her life and now it wasn’t going to happen.

  Why was it so hard to breathe? The chemical smell of the hospital room seemed suddenly overwhelming.

  “What is it, Nicky?”

  Her mother had to repeat the question before Nicole could lift her gaze from the stark words on her phone display. “Nothing.”

  Kate snorted. “You look like you’re going to faint.”

  “Lily had to go back to New York.”

  “Chalk up another one,” Kate said. “How many assistants is that now?”

  “Kate, hush,” her mother said. “Did you have a fight?”

  “No. She went shopping.”

  Kate tapped her iPad one more time and rested back on the pillows with a sigh of relief. “There, baby announcement all formatted. So Lily took one look at Meredith stores and ran for Fifth Avenue? I don’t blame her.”

  “Kate, please.” Her mother gave Nicole a searching look. “Did she say why?”

  “No.” Damn it all, her voice broke the word into three syllables.

  Kate waved a hand. “Wait a minute—are you shitting me?”

  “Kate! Language! And this doesn’t concern you.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t, but this is a newsflash from the Department of Shit That’s Obvious.” Kate put a hand on her belly as she laughed with triumph. “I warned you that you were in big trouble with this one, Nicky. Have you finally seen the rainbow that’s tattooed on your forehead?”

  The physical urge to throw her phone at Kate was so strong that Nicole began to cock back her arm. But she was able to calm herself enough to pocket the phone and say through stiff lips, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I have all the time in the world to talk about it,” Kate said. Her tone softened slightly as she added, “Sometimes, talking about stuff helps. Hey, I’ll start. I like men in bed, but they are a pain in the ass the rest of the time. If it weren’t illegal, I’d want to do a harem-in-reverse thing. Live exclusively in the company of women and keep the guys around for sex.”

  Her mother spluttered an outraged, “Kate!”

  “You don’t know the right men,” Nicole said.

  “My sister the lesbian is telling me the right man is out there for me? What would you know about it?”

  “I know everything about it!” Nicole was glad Juliet had gone back to the nursery. She hadn’t meant to shout. She supposed she’d just come out to her sister, but apparently, as usual, Kate knew it all along. She’d been going to tell her, but in her own time, not because Kate was a little snot. “You look in the wrong places.”

  “Show me the ideal man in the flesh, not on a graph.” Kate shrugged. “People are not an accumulation of numbers. I’m betting you can’t even begin to express what you feel right now in an equation.”

  “Of course I could, but not with you jabbering on about it. All I need is measurements to fill in the variables.”

  “How fucking romantic.” Kate gave her a hard, unamused look. “Just what every girl wants to hear.”

  Nicole was kept from responding with a hearty suggestion that Kate go fuck herself by their mother’s shrill, “Enough!”

  “I am what I am, Kate,” Nicole muttered.

  “You are what you want to be,” Kate muttered back. “Everybody is.”

  “You two are like dogs that cannot stop barking. Kate, we are going to have a new rule. There will be no cursing of any kind, at any time, for any reason. Do not test me on this. You will not like the consequences.”

  Nicole drew in a deep breath. When their mother didn’t even bother to define the threat it meant it would be bad. The memory of a day without any books to read for having wadded her dirty laundry under her bed instead of putting it into the hamper as instructed was suddenly foremost in her mind. It had been one of the most agonizing days of her teenage life.

  Kate seemed likewise chagrined, but couldn’t seem to resist saying, “She started it.”

  “No. She did not start it. You are a mother now. You must see these things more honestly.” She turned to Nicole. “As for you, if you did not make Lily go away, then why do you look so guilty?”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Your face knows something your brain does not.”

  “I need some air.” It was the only exit line Nicole could think of, and it was the truth. She swallowed down nausea and hurried for the stairs. Moving helped. The sharp, cold air outside settled her stomach. Truly, she detested the way hospitals smelled. Perhaps that accounted for all of these feelings. Her biochemical response to the antiseptic had gotten the better of her will to ignore it.

  Liar, liar, pants on fire, she could hear Kate chanting.

  She wasn’t ready to face Kate or her mother again. She felt as if she’d been turned inside out, and everything she’d guarded all her life was on display where anyone could poke at it. Kate, in particular, knew just where to stick her needles. She couldn’t bear the thought of anyone seeing her with emotions naked on her face.

  She found herself in her mother’s car and following the familiar route to the university. To her surprise she realized it was a Saturday, explaining why the faculty lot had plenty of empty spaces. The hallway of the science building was nearly deserted and the sound of her footsteps on the marble reminded her of the sharp tap of Lily’s heels that had so annoyed her.

  She unlocked and then shut the office door behind her, glad to see that it apparently had not been loaned out to anyone. Her desk was precisely as she had left it. As she sat down she waited for the arrival of the familiar sensation of being safe in her work cocoon.

  Several minutes later she was still waiting, but the calm focus she associated with her office didn’t develop. It was a small space, and she liked that, but today it seemed almost claustrophobic. Turning on the desk lamp seemed to further darken the room.

  Lily had sat in the side chair, the epitome of an automaton. Her impressions of Lily at first had been so wrong, and she’d been so focused on shutting out Lily’s presence that the memory was tissue paper. Lily wasn’t why her office felt two sizes too small.

  Unsure of how to alleviate her anxieties, she turned to work to settle her nerves. Her computer login still functioned and e-mail had stacked up. It was reassuring to see that her settings to sort the incoming mail into folders had worked well. Student e-mails had received automated responses explaining about her sabbatical and providing alternate contacts. Colleagues at th
e university had sent only a few messages, knowing she was unavailable. Announcements of meetings and so on she could ignore. The folder for administration missives was full of the expected reminders about grant application deadlines, the need for economy, the urgency of securing donors and so forth.

  Finding nothing mentally engaging in anything so far, she turned to the folder where e-mail from other colleges had been shunted. As she expected, there were a couple dozen calls for papers at conferences and requests to speak at other institutions. There were also several thank yous from various colleges where she and Lily had been over the last few weeks.

  The last item she opened she presumed was another thank you, this time from one of the universities outside Geneva—she couldn’t picture the facility. They had all started to look alike, and the only one she remembered clearly was in Moscow where Lily had paused to listen to the Balkan choir.

  The e-mail wasn’t a thank you.

  She read it twice and then answered.

  * * *

  I just need to think.

  Lily had told herself that for the entire drive back to New York. She needed to breathe away from Nicole’s pheromones so her own brain chemicals would get back into balance. After all the evidence Nicole talked about, this seemed imperative. Uncle Damon’s guest room would be just the place. So she was a coward. Running away by text message. It wasn’t as if she was abandoning the job. She would see Nicole in a week, probably.

  She wondered why she didn’t have a text reply from Nicole. Was she angry? She’d have a right to be, Lily supposed. Maybe she was distracted with Kate and the baby. As the hours passed without any kind of response she decided, however, that the silence was a sign. Nicole felt so little emotional connection with her that she didn’t even rate a text message. There, that was clear enough. She might get a message around bedtime, when Nicole finally missed her. Imagining a booty call from Nicole, however, was so funny that she smiled most of the way across Connecticut.

  As she went through the rigmarole of returning the rental car near the Newark airport and taking the train into Penn Station, she debated on how to send another text, worded perfectly naturally, nothing out of the ordinary. She didn’t come up with any brilliant ideas.

  Emerging at street level above Penn Station, Lily was comforted by the familiar Manhattan smells—damp sidewalks, car exhaust. A hot dog from a steam cart in one hand, she hailed a cab.

  When the cab dropped her off she wasn’t surprised Uncle Damon was home. She’d warned him she was on the way. After a bear hug he proffered apricot rugelach from the bakery on the corner and a piping hot espresso.

  “So what made you bolt for here? Hathaway is going to be sidelined longer than you thought?”

  “I think she’ll be ready to resume in about a week.” Lily tried for a nonchalant shrug. “We’re both pretty beat. Like I said, whoever thought filling every single day with a commitment was crazy.”

  “You could have stayed up there for the week—you’ve earned the rest.”

  “I wanted to come home…I need winter clothes. And I need a break.” She nibbled at her pastry, then had to take a huge bite. Sweet and flaky and buttery.

  “From Hathaway? That I believe.”

  “Yeah. That’s it.” Maybe not for the reasons Uncle Damon thought, though. She noticed he was in beautifully creased black slacks and a gorgeous pullover. The multicolor wool weave reminded her of El Salvadoran textiles. It was a little upscale for an evening at home with his niece. “Do you have a date?”

  “Just meeting a friend for drinks.”

  “Don’t come home early on my account.” She was much happier to talk about his life than her own. He still wore David’s ring on his finger, and he’d been lonely for years now. After listening to Nicole for all these weeks, she had to believe that the numbers were in his favor—not to find another David, but find someone who could make him happy.

  “My club days are long behind me, pumpkin. We are going to see if we can get into a piano bar featuring a young woman who plays like Marian MacPartland. You don’t know who that is, but trust me, if it’s true I will be a very happy man.”

  “I hope she’s all that and more, then.”

  “You should go out clubbing. After weeks of a deadly dull academic for company you should go where the young people are. Act your age.” He gave her a twinkling smile.

  “I’m too tired, I guess.” She shrugged. “I was thinking I’d go into the office with you on Monday. I do have a lot more cancellations to make and other adjustments.”

  He agreed and left her to finish off the rugelach. It was a little bit of a relief that she could settle in on her own. He was too perceptive and she didn’t want to answer any more questions, not when her voice wasn’t as steady as she hoped whenever she said Nicole’s name.

  Was Nicole sorting through her papers and deciding which studies she’d look at next? With something like détente between the two sisters was she telling about their travels and travails to alleviate Kate’s boredom? Lily tried not to wish herself there. She would be swooning at the sound of Nicole’s voice and drinking in every smile and laugh. Uncle Damon wouldn’t believe her if she told him that Nicole’s sense of humor was an endearing quality.

  Before she settled in for the night she sent a second text to Nicole saying she’d arrived safely and would get the itinerary updated with a copy to her on Monday. It was very businesslike. Nicole’s reply was a sparse “Thank you.”

  It wasn’t until she unpacked some of her suitcase contents that she realized she still had Nicole’s leather jacket. She held it against her face like Linus holding his blanket and told herself firmly that she would not cry.

  A few days of something like normal and Nicole would be out of her system. The chemicals would fade and she’d get her brain back. Once her brain was working again she could put the feelings in perspective and move on.

  She inhaled the scent of the jacket again.

  * * *

  The revised itinerary Lily had sent proposed that they would meet up the following Saturday at a hotel in Chicago. That night they would resume their events with a bookstore appearance. They’d be in Chicago for three days before leaving for St. Louis. Studying it over breakfast on Tuesday morning, Nicole appreciated that Lily had canceled at least one event each of the remaining weeks to give them longer breaks.

  Nicole pondered how to word her e-mail reply, then simply said she appreciated the effort and would see Lily Saturday evening. What else was there to say?

  She refreshed her inbox again and resisted the urge to retreat to her bedroom to use the computer there, just in case her phone was somehow blocking the e-mail she really cared about. Two long days of waiting had led to being chided by her mother for her restless pacing. She supposed her mother thought it was due to missing Lily. Fortunately, Kate was coming home tomorrow and the installation of a temporary hospital bed had given her mother delivery people to fuss at and arrangements to make—in other words, her mother was preoccupied, blissfully so.

  She was glad of the break from the endless speeches, but unable to wrap her mind around any of the peer review work she ought to have tackled, or at least staged so she could take papers with her. Instead she had packed and repacked her suitcase for Saturday. Her leather jacket had gone missing. Recalling how it had fallen to the floor in that New Orleans hotel room, landing next to Lily’s panties and stilettos, didn’t help her composure.

  She mourned the loss of the garment, but not the way she would have even a few weeks ago. It was no longer the representation of her identity. Not when her sister casually referred to her as the “lovesick lesbo” at every opportunity.

  Studying the new itinerary didn’t trigger a bout of Cole planning which bars she’d prowl, not this time. Now she looked and wondered where she and Lily would have dinner, if there was a place where they could dance together, if they could fit in a movie or a concert.

  Her phone buzzed in her hand and she quickly keyed up the
new e-mail window even as she told herself not to hope.

  It was the one she wanted.

  It was the answer she wanted.

  She really ought to think it over. Ask some questions, consider the pros and cons in light of the best interests of her career. But she tapped out her answer without doing any of those things, and sent the correspondence to the printer the household shared.

  After a quick, hot shower she stood gazing at the only photograph she had of the two of them together—Lily in the garb of a Renaissance lady and Nicole the silent, dour knight at her side. They were like opposite sides of the moon, only meeting at the edges.

  She packed up her toiletries and stuffed them into her suitcase.

  As she rolled the case to the garage her mother came out of Kate’s bedroom looking dismayed. “I thought you weren’t leaving for your tour until Saturday.”

  “I’m not.”

  Her mother waited until Nicole was making her final trip for the carry on and her satchel. “New York?”

  “Yes.”

  Her mother shook her head with a long maternal sigh. “You know that I am worried your position with the university will be compromised. Worried that the next election these hateful people will pass some law or another that hurts you.”

  “I know.” Nicole remembered the last departure and her dread of her mother’s inevitable histrionics. There were tears in her mother’s eyes now, to be sure, but it didn’t appear they would spill over.

  “I worry about other people. But I am not worried about you.”

  What was the world coming to, Nicole thought, when she was the one who did the crying? She sniveled into a tissue for several miles and hoped she didn’t get lost. Getting lost by herself would be unpleasant. If she were with Lily she didn’t care at all where the road was leading.

  Thankfully, the signs to New York were self-explanatory and she only turned wrong once trying to get onto the Henry Hudson Parkway. She didn’t recall much of the drive—really, it was fascinating that her brain simply wasn’t processing input the way it should.