They walked in silence for a minute, then Marian said, “Is it a secret, your middle name?”
“Emma.”
“A lovely name, what’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing. Just ... say my whole name.”
“Liddy Emma Peel. It’s very—oh.”
Liddy waited for Marian to tease her, but all Marian did was chuckle quietly. She explained quietly, “My legal last name is Hartwell. But my mom remarried right after I was born and I’ve always used my stepdad’s last name. So the Emma Peel thing wasn’t even on purpose.”
“That sort of makes it worse, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. It wasn’t too bad until cable brought back the Avenger reruns. I was so teased in school, especially when I took up karate.”
“I always loved Diana Rigg. I wanted her to read to me. And kick my brother across the room.”
“Hey!” Liddy stared at the pavement. “What are these?” Marian paused. “Nice, huh? You’re looking at the Iowa Avenue Literary Walk.”
Liddy carefully stepped over the words engraved in a binocular-shaped bronze plaque sunk into the pavement. “‘I have noticed before that there is a category of acquaintanceship that is not friendship or business or romance, but speculation, fascination.’ Jane Smiley. Interesting.”
“All the quotes are from people with ties to Iowa. I’ll show you my favorite, right up here.”
It felt odd to be walking along while staring at the sidewalk.
Liddy stopped to read another quote, set off by gold letters on a manhole cover. “‘We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.’ Kurt Vonnegut. Yes, that makes a lot of sense.”
“This is it,” Marian said, pointing.
This plaque was book-shaped. “Mildred Augustine Wirt Benson—that’s a mouthful for a name. ‘I’m afraid there’s more to this than appears on the surface.’” Liddy frowned. As a favorite quote it seemed obvious.
Marian’s smile broadened. “There’s more to her name than appears on the surface. You might know her better as Carolyn Keene.”
“Oh!” Liddy grinned. “Nancy Drew.”
Marian nodded enthusiastically. “That’s her. She was the first woman to get a journalism master’s here at U of I.”
“Cool.”
“Speaking of names, I am curious about your name, though. Your father chose it?”
Liddy sighed as she fell into step with Marian again. “It con-tributed to the divorce. Mom was out of it—nearly died—after I was born. I’m glad she didn’t. Anyway, my father filled out the birth cer-tificate and Emma, a family name on my mom’s side, became my middle name. Liddy hadn’t even been discussed, but my father thought G. Gordon was a freedom fighter. He has a ‘Nixon was Framed’ T-shirt.”
“You don’t see much of him?”
“Not much. We get on. It’s okay. But if we didn’t have blood in common we’d have nothing in common, you know? My brother is turning into him, though.”
The Beetle chirped at their approach. What a cute little car.
Small, compact but loaded with personality. It suited Marian. Liddy oozed down into the passenger seat. “Wow. The view is different from down here.”
Marian grinned as she turned the key. “See that handle over your door?” The engine purred loudly as she reversed out of the parking space.
Liddy looked up. “Yeah.”
“Just remember it’s there.”
Liddy didn’t really appreciate what Marian meant until Marian gunned the engine to make it through a yellow light at a left turn.
The low car swooped through the intersection while Liddy fumbled for the grip and leaned into the turn for all she was worth. “You don’t drive like you’re from Iowa.”
“Neither do you,” Marian commented.
“You’re going faster than the speed limit.”
“Uh huh.”
“I thought it was a rule here that everyone drive one mile an hour below the speed limit.”
“I’m sure it is. But I learned to drive in Chicago. Six Polish uncles taught me how. My mother’s maiden name was Myslakowski.”
“That explains it. Six teachers, all men.” Liddy held her breath as Marian gunned her way onto the freeway, cutting smoothly over to the fast lane.
“That looked closer than it was,” Marian assured her. “I love my baby. She’s got great maneuverability.”
“Where are we going?” The large mega-mall loomed, but they didn’t exit in that direction. Liddy looked back at it with longing.
“I’m not sure yet,” Marian answered. “But we’ll use the interstate to get there.”
“Why?”
“I take joy in getting on the freeway and leaving at the very next exit. It drives nearly everyone I know here batty.”
“That is how we do it in California.”
“In Illinois, too. But not in Iowa. In Iowa—hold on.” Marian whipped around a semi, then scooted into the slow lane where she proceded to pass the cars in the fast lane. “In Iowa, the interstate is for going from one state to another. If you’re getting on the interstate you need a map, a cooler with drinks, and an extra gas can just in case you get caught in the vast distances between towns.”
“There are some vast stretches,” Liddy said. “I drove them.”
“Coralville Lake, that’ll do it.”
The Beetle purred down the off-ramp for North Liberty. Liddy wondered if there was there a Central Liberty, or a South Liberty. In minutes subdivisions and farmhouses gave way to shoulder-high fields of corn and tall thickets of berries. Marian pressed the on button and soothing Bach flowed out of the speakers, at odds, Liddy thought, with the zooming pace of the little car.
“Over there! Deer!” Marian pointed. By the time Liddy looked they were out of sight.
Without thinking, she said, “Do you make love the way you drive?”
Marian’s jaw dropped. She stared at Liddy for a moment, then back at the road.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be—”
“No, I guess it’s a fair question. I was thinking about the answer. I don’t think so.”
She slowed the car, although Liddy couldn’t see why. There was no one else on the road with them and Marian was now at a crawl.
“You’re starting to frighten me.”
“Don’t mean to.” She stomped on the gas and they shot forward again, regaining their earlier breakneck pace. “Yes, I think I do make love like I drive. Depends on the passenger.” Liddy had to laugh, but a little voice inside was whispering,
“Manic depressive.”
Really, she thought, what did she know about this woman? Okay, she has friends, and they seem to like her. She’s a fabulous kisser. She cries at the drop of a hat. She’s tenderhearted to be so sad that friends are moving away. She’s still hurting about the nutso ex. She’s a fabulous kisser. Her boss likes her. A straight guy wants to marry her. She drives like a fiend.
She was a fabulous kisser.
Robyn had been a fabulous kisser too. Nearly as good as Marian.
And everyone else had seemed to think Robyn was a-okay until she went bonker kitties.
She realized that Marian had slowed again, but this time to a moderate pace. “I’m sorry, I needed to blow out the cobwebs. I really didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I wasn’t scared. Just thinking.”
“About?”
“Cornfields.”
“Hard not to. The lake we’re going to is just the other side of this mountain.”
Liddy rolled her eyes. “Mountain?”
“Get with the program. You’re in Iowa and that’s a mountain.” Thinking of the Rockies she’d crossed on the way to Iowa, Liddy said, “If you say so.”
“What were you really thinking about?”
“That I don’t know much about you.” Liddy admitted the truth without really meaning to.
“Thought so.”
They turned onto a side road with only the measured strains of Bach to break the
silence. At least Liddy thought it was Bach. It was one of those pieces that made Liddy think of sewing machines but somehow, with Marian, it didn’t seem so deadly dull. Marian down-shifted and Liddy had to admit there was a bit of a grade.
“Mountain” was still a stretch, though.
As they crested the hill, Marian said, “The only thing I do violently is scrub my floors. I figure the floors don’t care, and I’m actually healthier for it.”
“I save my violence for the dojo.”
“And brick walls.”
Liddy cocked her head and then remembered her attack on the building at the Ped Mall. “Oh. That wasn’t ... I don’t usually do that.”
Marian let out a noise of pure chagrin. “I don’t usually have mood swings so severe I need an oxygen mask. So we’re even.” They coasted to a stop at an overlook. Not expecting much, Liddy got out of the car and followed Marian to the shade of the only tree. “Oh!”
“It is nice, isn’t it?”
Their elevation was only a few hundred feet above the surround-ing area, but the rolling fields and thick oaks lining numerous water-ways were more obvious than Liddy had yet seen. The countryside was gently alive.
“I think of Iowa as very female.” Marian gestured at the panorama. “I suppose most rural agricultural areas are, but it’s also the roundness of the hills. Instead of a plotted out checkerboard, the rivers and creeks create curves in the roads and fencing. It’s really a beautiful day for June. The haze can be bad in the late summer.”
“It’s lovely. Womanly, yes. Like a Wyeth painting.”
“Yes, I’ve always thought so.” Marian pointed at different fields, naming the likely crops. “Not that it’s all that hard to guess what it is.
Corn, oats, soybeans and Huskie fans, that’s what we grow in Iowa.” Liddy chuckled and followed Marian back toward the car.
“Do you feel like a walk? There’s a nature trail along here, and we can get some wonderful views of the lake.”
“A walk would be great. Work up an appetite for that lunch.” Marian threw a grin over her shoulder and led Liddy onto a leaf-dusted trail. For the first few minutes Liddy just admired the view, and it wasn’t nature she was looking at. Marian’s hinder was wonderfully framed by her khaki shorts, and the lean legs were tanned and shapely. Marian’s soft butch physique was put together in a very attractive way.
As they continued to climb, Liddy strained not to pant as she kept up with Marian’s rapid pace. She was awfully glad she was wearing her Tevas. Marian pointed out a deer hideaway, gopher holes, a poisonous weed and trees with antler scrapings. Okay, Liddy thought.
Marian was one of those outdoorsy gals. Marian knew all the stuff her biological father always wanted Liddy to absorb about the great outdoors.
She weighed the pros and cons. Know the names of gopher dis-eases versus fabulous kissing. Well, the kissing was so far winning, but she hoped there was no test administered at the end of the walk.
“ ... heard a word I’ve said.”
“I’m listening,” Liddy protested. “Just, well, not a lot.”
“I’m babbling, I know. I’m nervous.”
“Not really. Why?”
Marian stopped abruptly and Liddy realized how quiet it was on the shady path. There was only the distant drone of an engine to break the stillness. “Why am I nervous, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
Marian ran one fingertip down Liddy’s bare arm. Liddy couldn’t stifle her responsive gasp. “Because of that.”
Liddy swallowed hard. “Okay, I’ll admit that makes me a little nervous, too. I’m not this way—”
“Me neither. As we keep telling each other. And the last time I felt this sweaty this fast with someone I got hurt. Badly.”
“Me, too. So how come I’m not scared?” Had she been the one to step forward or had Marian? Had they both? Could Marian tell how hard she was breathing and that it had nothing to do with the hike?
She wasn’t in Iowa City looking for love, for sex, for anything except to get away from the anger and the hurt Robyn had left in her life.
That and a paycheck.
Marian seemed to miss nothing. “I am scared. I think this would count as rebound for me.” Her short laugh was strained. “For a lot of reasons. And that’s not fair to you.”
“Even if the paint peeled?”
“It’s never that easy. Great sex does not a good relationship make.”
“But neither of us is looking for a relationship.” Liddy wondered exactly what she was trying to argue Marian into. She didn’t want to let anyone close right now. But her body was acting like a teenager’s.
“Sex without the prospect of a U-Haul?” This time Marian’s smile was warmer. “I don’t think lesbians do that.”
“We could pretend we’re guys.” Swear to freakin’ god, Liddy, did you really say something that stupid?
“You are not a guy.” Marian leaned slightly closer. “Unless you are wearing the most incredible prosthetics money can buy.” Damned boobs. Damned nipples. She could hardly blame their obvious prominence on its being cold. “They’re real,” she said wryly.
“Pure female under here. I have to say, you also seem to be quite female, which is most definitely my preference.” Marian cocked her head to one side. “Thank you. I was told by the ex-from-hell that I was mannish.”
“You’re butch—there is a big difference. At least to me.” Marian was so close Liddy could smell the aroma of her shampoo.
“That doesn’t put you off?” Marian’s gaze wavered with uncertainty.
Damn, Liddy thought. How badly had this ex hurt Marian? She was deliciously, gently butch and obviously someone had stomped on the idea that this was attractive.
Marian closed her eyes as if she’d realized she was revealing too much. “Sorry—”
“It turns me on, if you want the truth. You’re very female.” Her gaze swept over Marian’s curves, and she swallowed hard. “Very female, and you’re butch, right down to those buffed nails and the comb in your back pocket.” She couldn’t bring herself to admit that looking at those neatly manicured nails made her consider the slenderness of Marian’s fingers.
“Oh.” Marian blinked rapidly, then finally looked up. “That’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in a long while. Okay. I forgive you for the crack about pretending we’re guys.”
“Thanks. My mouth got ahead of my brain with that one.” I want to go to bed with her, Liddy thought. Right now. Soon. Maybe in the car. I don’t know—I wasn’t looking. What the hell do I do now? I want to fuck Marian the Librarian from Iowa fucking City.
Marian looked up at her, her eyes soft but serious. “What are you thinking? And don’t tell me cornfields.”
“That I don’t know what to do.” She lifted the hem of Marian’s T-shirt with one fingertip. “Last time I fell into bed with someone I got hurt too. And I can’t tell if how I feel right now is different from then, or if I just want it to be different.” Marian nodded. “I think it would be a mistake to go to any other level. Right now.”
Liddy took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “It occurs to me if we keep talking about sex we’ll eventually stop wanting to have it.” Marian’s smile was crooked. “Is that the way it works?”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Then maybe we should talk about it lots. Because it would be a big mistake for me. I’m a mess.”
No kidding, Liddy wanted to say, but she caught herself. And I thought I was a mess, getting so angry all the time. “Well, I’m two thousand miles from home because I’m not okay either.”
“So ... shall we finish our walk?”
“Yeah,” Liddy said.
She really didn’t mean to grab Marian then, but her hands were on Marian’s shoulders before her brain even realized what she was going to do. She pulled Marian’s wonderful body close. She half expected to get slapped, though Marian hardly seemed the slapping type. She certainly thought she’d get pushed aw
ay.
Marian’s arms were around her waist and their lips met hungrily.
There was no teasing in this kiss. It was about yes, an ocean of yes, enough to drown in.
Marian’s moan was caught in Liddy’s mouth, hot and eager. Liddy could only kiss her back, no longer able to worry or think or even concentrate. She forgot about Iowa and libraries and very good reasons to stop. There was only Marian and her incredible mouth and that body that fit so well against her own.
Liddy didn’t think she was the one who pulled back. Her hands were under Marian’s shirt, cupping her waist. The world seemed to spin and it was a minute before she realized one of the things holding her up was Marian’s thigh and hip between her legs.
“I’m sorry.” Liddy shivered with the effort to separate herself from Marian, especially the hard thigh rocking slightly against her.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Marian held her a moment longer, then let her go. Liddy didn’t move until Marian stepped back. “If I hadn’t wanted you to I would have stopped you.”
Stunned by how much she wanted to go back to what they’d been doing, Liddy said the first thing that came into her head. “We can’t be alone.”
“No.” Marian turned away. “It would probably be for the best if we weren’t.”
How can she just walk away? Liddy angrily watched Marian’s steady steps, yet she was also relieved. How can she look as if she wasn’t just about to do me? And then Liddy felt a rush of hurt because she wanted to be alone with Marian again. Wanted to hold her. Wanted to smell her hair. Wanted to listen to her talk about gopher butts or tree genealogies—anything at all. Anything. And Marian was just walking away.
“Wait up!”
Marian paused. As Liddy caught up she saw that Marian was wiping away tears.
I can’t, she thought. I can’t hold her this time. Look where that got us.
“I don’t like ...” Marian paused to dab at her eyes. “I don’t like admitting I’m not in control. I think that going to bed with you would be a huge mistake. And I want to so much that I can hardly breathe. And this isn’t like me. It isn’t. You have no idea.” Liddy realized only then that the tears had nothing to do with her. “I’m not going to bed with you,” she said firmly. “If kissing you makes you cry then I’m not prepared for what will happen if I fuck you.”
One Degree of Separation Page 11
