“It’s okay.”
“I’m not used to just putting it right out there.” She sipped her water. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me—”
“Or what’s right?”
Liddy’s smile was forced. “Could be. I don’t know. I imagine people in Iowa City don’t just say they want to go to bed right out in public.”
“Sometimes,” Marian murmured, “they do.”
Liddy stared at her plate. “I’m feeling a little vulnerable here.” Belatedly, Marian said, “I want you in my bed. I want to be in your bed.”
“I was worried you didn’t.”
“Liddy.” Marian studied the top of Liddy’s head and waited.
When Liddy looked up, finally, Marian said quietly, but clearly,
“Right now this entire room is bathed in red and I feel like I am burning. I can hardly think for wanting you. But I can’t get past a couple of things.”
“Like what?”
“I’m in love ... with someone else.”
“I know. I’m not asking you to be in love with me.” Liddy said it firmly, but Marian saw a flicker of what might have been sadness in Liddy’s eyes.
“You’re leaving at the end of the summer.”
“Therefore that whole falling in love thing isn’t necessary, is it?”
“I got hurt last time,” Marian reminded her.
“I don’t want to get hurt either, so if we agree not to hurt each other—”
“And I’m not quite done with that bleeding thing.” Liddy arched an eyebrow. “Haven’t you ever heard of red towels?”
Marian had to laugh. “I feel utterly unattractive from the waist down.”
“That leaves me half your body to enjoy, doesn’t it?” It took a minute, but Marian found the will to breathe after she broke Liddy’s intense gaze by rubbing her eyes. “You make that sound so tempting.”
“I mean it to be.”
If Inner Prude had anything to say, it was drowned out by Inner Slut. She’s sexy and hot, Inner Slut was shouting. She wants you and you know you want her.
“Marian, I’ve been honest with you, haven’t I? I left Berkeley because somebody broke my heart and damned near ruined my life. I’m breaking all the promises I made to myself before I left home. I didn’t come here for an affair, but I have never wanted anybody the way I want you right now.”
Was that true? Could it possibly be true, Marian wondered.
Robyn had said much the same thing. That the flare of desire was meant to be. Giving in wasn’t a mistake. They would make love and get to know each other. What about Hemma, Inner Prude demanded. You’ve loved her for years.
But I can’t have her, Marian thought savagely. And she’s leaving me. This morning we decided I can’t buy their house. It’s over. Hemma’s leaving. Marian’s eyes filled with unbidden tears. “I’m okay,” she murmured, dabbing. “Just—a lot of emotion.”
“What kinds?” Liddy looked poised to get up, but Marian couldn’t tell if it was to run for the nearest exit or leap across the table and start tearing off clothes. Her entire body clenched at the thought of Liddy naked, and in her arms.
“Fear. A lot of fear.”
“She really hurt you.”
Marian nodded. “Yeah.”
“How long ago did she leave?”
“Two years.”
“Oh.” Liddy was clearly speculating what kind of hurt it had been not to be healed two years later.
Ellie knew. Mary Jane knew. Of course Hemma and Amy knew, but Marian never told anyone else. Silence gives it power, she reminded herself. “We had a fight, in bed, about me not being what she wanted. Her usual shit. I was too mannish, not her type. We argued and she left. I was ...” Her face flamed. “I was tied to the headboard and she left. She tied good knots.”
She didn’t want to tell Liddy about the hours she’d been there, struggling, her hands slowly going numb, listening to Robyn rummaging upstairs and then several places downstairs, but not knowing what Robyn was doing. Yelling for Robyn, but afraid if she did too much, her neighbors would hear. The slamming door had been a relief—at least she knew where Robyn wasn’t, and she’d been afraid Robyn would come back to bed, and want to finish what they had started. She’d been helpless, for all those hours, and so afraid.
“I finally got the phone. It was just out of reach. I dislocated my shoulder, but I finally got it. Speed dial is a wonderful thing.” Liddy’s expression washed over with sympathy. “That’s—that’s really terrible. It does give a person perspective. I thought I’d been ill-treated.”
The rush of anger left Marian’s head throbbing. “Glad to make you feel better.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Liddy reached across the table to take Marian’s hand. “That was thoughtless of me, really. I didn’t mean it that way. I just—I understand. I really do. What a rotten, terrible thing to do. My tale of woe is nothing so bad, and I don’t blame you for being scared. She so completely violated your trust.” Marian realized her pounding head was likely to turn into a migraine. The pending storm front was to blame, as well as all the stress. “I’m sorry, it’s that asshole today at work, you know. Violence. It woke it all up. She never hit me, but she could have.”
“You could talk to somebody about it.”
“I’ll put you on the long list of people who told me I should see a therapist.”
“Maybe you should.”
Marian shook her head. “I’ve done that. I know the drill. I know what it’ll take and I’m not ready.” Liddy didn’t say anything, so Marian rushed on, “My parents were killed by a drunk driver, and three months later my brother was shot and killed in a robbery at the bank where he worked. I’ve done therapy. And then I got out of Chicago.”
The color drained out of Liddy’s face. “I’m sorry,” she said weakly.
“So I want to go to bed with you, but I don’t trust me right now. I am a mess right now.”
Liddy spread her hands helplessly. “How can you still love that woman?”
“I don’t. I’m ... Shit.” Marian dipped her fingers into her glass and rubbed her eyelids with the cool water. “My head is going to split open.”
“You mean—it’s someone else. Not the shitty ex.” Marian nodded, and she felt a rush of pure fear that her long-held secret was so close to the surface. “I’m going to have to get over it, because my life is on hold and has been for too long. I got a big message that I need to change it. And I’m missing out ...” She gazed across the table at Liddy. “I’m an idiot to say no to you.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
Marian thought for a minute before she answered. “I can’t say yes.”
Liddy’s mouth twisted downward. “I’m just a victim of bad timing, is that it?”
“I didn’t mean that.”
Liddy dug in her pocket and came up with her wallet. She put some bills on the table and then said quietly, “Thank you for a least being honest with me.”
Marian watched her walk toward the door, then lost sight of her as she disappeared into the afternoon glare.
11
What do I do now? Liddy’s head was spinning.
Iowa fucking City was supposed to be quiet. Peaceful. Pastoral.
Bovine. Porcine, even. Anything but wall-to-wall dykes and fisticuffs in the public library and master black belts and least of all, least of all, anything but home to a woman who made her feel like she was fifteen and fifty at the same time. There wasn’t supposed to be a Marian the Librarian in this town who brought out such feelings of need and longing accompanied by incredible frustration.
There were other feelings, too, ones she couldn’t name, but they clamored to be eased by things as simple as shared coffee in the morning and reading aloud before bed.
Swear to freakin’ god, she hadn’t even been here a week and all she could think about was sex and love and, damn it, Robyn Vaughn.
A voice rang out from across the mall. “Liddy!”
“Hey, El
lie.” Great, she chided herself. Now I even sound like I live here.
“I heard there was a deal at the library. Mary Jane said you and Marian went for a bite to eat.”
“She’s at the restaurant, the one on the corner.” Liddy pointed.
“Oh, Atlas. Headed home?”
“Yes. I’ve got piles of reading to get through.”
“Seriously, if you get bored and just want to grab a bite to eat or take a break, I’d like to find out how you’re doing your research. I would think research for a writer would be a fun job.” Liddy shrugged. “I haven’t done enough to know, but so far, if I can keep from being distracted ...”
Ellie grinned knowingly. “Yes, that’s always the problem. Catch you later.”
Liddy waved and wandered toward the Java House, where she’d left the Hummer. She didn’t look down the mall toward the library.
She had no reason to go in that direction. Marian wasn’t there.
How does she do this to me, Liddy wondered. Lift me up so high I can’t stand it? What was she going to do? She couldn’t handle eight more weeks of this torture. Eight weeks isn’t long enough for a lifetime, either.
The heat made her mosquito bites itch, and she remembered what Carrie had said about lavender oil. So instead of heading for her car, she continued down the mall toward Soap Opera. It had nothing to do with the library. The mist from the fountain felt wonderful. At least she wasn’t so dead she couldn’t enjoy that.
Poor Marian, she thought. What a hellish ex-girlfriend, to do something like that. Just ... leave her helpless. Liddy couldn’t even imagine how that would feel. Robyn had wanted to play rope games, but Liddy had always said no. Maybe her subconscious had known Robyn wasn’t safe enough for that. Her refusal, though, was one of the reasons Robyn had told her she would never be a real femme until she’d been tied up. Bullshit, Liddy knew. Robyn had done plenty of damage, but at least it hadn’t included something so insidiously physical.
She inhaled the soothing scent of sandalwood as she went into the cool store. Too dispirited to look herself, she stopped at the counter.
“I’m hoping you have essential oil of lavender.”
“Sure.” Though this clerk was equally young, she wasn’t the same one who had given Liddy the free whiff of musk. “It’s made here locally, too. Wonderful fragrance.”
“I’m hoping I don’t smell like church linens or anything.”
“Depends on how much you use. And ...” The young woman’s eyes moved slowly down Liddy’s front. “And where you put it.” I don’t need this, Liddy thought. “It’s for mosquito bites.”
“In that case, a cotton swab, just a dab.”
“I’ll take the small vial.” She refused a sample of the musk infusion and further banter.
Bag in hand, she stood outside in the heat for a moment. The problem, she realized, wasn’t Marian’s past. It was the present. It was the unrequited love thing. What a waste of time. Marian at least seemed to realize it.
Great. Liddy wanted to kick the building. By the time Marian is over that, she thought, I’ll be on Social Security. There was just no time for anything. There was only time for sex, exactly what Marian didn’t want to have. Just sex.
Be honest, she scolded herself. You don’t want it either. Not just sex. What the hell is it about her? What the hell is it about this place?
“Marian, you look like a bucket of fuck.” Marian regarded Ellie blearily. Her head felt like a truck had run over it. Her first thought had been to catch up with Liddy, but once outside the restaurant her headache had blossomed. The air was thick and heavy with the impending storm while sunlight mercilessly bored behind her eyes. She was hardly able to plod one foot in front of the other. “Thanks, I really needed to hear that right now. What exactly does a bucket of fuck look like, anyway?”
“Got a mirror?”
“Ellie, please.” Standing in the sun was torture.
“Oh—migraine? Yikes, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. Where are you parked?”
“I need to go back to work.”
“You need to go home sick, is what you need.”
“I can take a pill. I don’t want everyone to think I’m some sort of wimp.” Or that she’d gone home with Liddy. Mary Jane wouldn’t respect that.
“I’ll walk back with you, then, okay?” Ellie could be as high-strung as a poodle sometimes, but she was never slow to nurture other people. Marian appreciated the gentle touch on the shoulder and sympathetic smile. “I wish it would just hurry up and rain. This humidity is too much. Oh, I saw Liddy. Damn, it’s hot.”
“Yes, she is.”
Ellie burst out laughing and Marian winced, then realized what she’d said. “Sorry, I heard wrong. Was she okay?”
“Seemed it. Did you have another fight?”
“Not a fight. We just can’t.”
“Can’t what?” Ellie dodged a skater. “She’s the hottest woman I think I’ve seen on these old streets. If slender, feminine and built is what appeals. And it does.”
“Okay, it isn’t that we can’t. I can’t.”
“Marian, you’ve got to be kidding.”
“Ellie, please.”
“You can’t still be skittish because of that bitch Robyn. What she did was inexcusable, but she was a one-of-a-kind monster.”
“It’s not just that, it’s just everything right now. Hemma ...” This block of Ped Mall had never seemed so long.
When Marian didn’t say more, Ellie said, “It’s a wrench, losing them, I know. But I would think you’d welcome a romance, even if just for the summer.”
“Hemma is ...” Shit, Marian thought. I’m going to tell her. I have to tell her. “I can’t buy their house. I don’t have enough capital. I really wish I did.”
“Oh, that would have been good. You love the garden.” Ellie suddenly grabbed her arm. “Marian! The light’s red.” Marian stepped back to the curb as a truck rumbled by. “It’s for the best. I need to let go.”
“They’ve been your family since your folks died,” Ellie said softly.
She gave Marian a little push when the light changed. “Hemma’s the one who said you should be a librarian.”
Surprised that Ellie remembered, Marian nodded. “And the books. We found the books together.”
“Oh, yeah.”
You’re being a jerk, Marian suddenly realized. “You’re my family, too, Ellie. You know that, right?”
“Yes. You’re it for me. We both lost our folks young. I’m glad you decided to follow me here to I.C.”
“Well, you got the place all figured out for me. It seemed like a good idea. It’s worked out pretty well.”
“I care about Sandy, I really do.” Ellie stopped walking for a moment. “She’s too good for me. Every time I fuck something up, I expect her to leave me. She never fucks up.”
“You need someone a little imperfect.”
Ellie smiled, but Marian could see the effort it cost her. “More than a little, if they’re going to match me.”
“We’ll make up a list of candidates.”
“I’ve still got the list from last year.”
“Ellie? I think that any other day I’d say let’s get something very cold to drink and talk it through, but my head is going to fall off. I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. I do have to admit that what sounds really good to me right now is a very cold something that’s blue, gets poured over ice and only tastes good with an umbrella in it.” Marian was grateful they had reached the tree-lined portion of the mall. The storm front had mercifully finally covered the sun, and it felt less humid under the trees. Just past the Java House, she thought. You can make it that far. Then she remembered she needed to get all the way back to the library. The very idea made her want to cry.
“Mary Jane!” Ellie darted to the opposite side of the mall.
By the time Marian caught up to her, Mary Jane was regarding her with concern. “I think Ellie’s right, you should go home.”
“I’ll stick around. I’ve got tons of paperwork to do anyway, as always.”
“I’m sorry,” Marian mumbled.
“Stop that. Go home and take care of yourself. That’s a direct order.”
Marian found a glimmer of a smile. “You top you.” Mary Jane rolled her eyes. “We’ll discuss that another time.”
“Thanks, El. See you.”
It seemed like the longest walk of her life, but she finally reached the milestone of the Java House. And found herself face to face with Liddy, who emerged from the artist’s collective next door.
“Hey.”
“I’m not a stalker.” Liddy flushed. “I was just browsing.”
“I didn’t think you were a stalker.”
“But I forgot to give you this, so it’s just as well.” Marian took the card. The envelope bulged with the promise of something more than paper tucked inside. “This wasn’t necessary.”
“I know. But I was thinking of you. Don’t leave it in the sun.”
“You must think I am such an idiot.”
“No,” Liddy said seriously. “I really don’t. You keep saying you’re a mess. You’ve got some reasons. But I don’t understand why that means you have to shut me out.”
“Hell, I don’t understand why either. I’m so afraid.” Liddy moved closer, her voice very soft. “I’m not going to hurt you. I would never do that.”
“No, you don’t understand.” Marian put her hand on her forehead, trying to ease the notion that her brains were going to explode out of her skull. “I’m afraid of me. That I’m going to hurt you. Because I’m a mess and I can’t promise what my feelings will be tomorrow or next week. It would kill me if I hurt you. I thought I knew myself, but these last couple of days ...” She wanted so badly to curl up in Liddy’s arms and go to sleep. Or make love. Or both.
For hours and hours.
“I’m willing to give us space and time. I know this is quick. I don’t even know what I’m really talking about. I’m not talking about forever, but can’t we at least enjoy what we both know we’re feeling?”
“It’s not the sex. It’s the morning after.”
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