Embrace in Motion

by Karin Kallmaker

  "Oh," Sarah said, blankly. "I thought we were going to the farm—"

  "Don't worry," Melissa said, "I'm not going. They'll just spend the entire time pressuring me to get a Master's in something, anything. They send a ticket every year and every year I cash it in. I don't know what I'll do with the cash."

  Flibbertigibbet. Leslie congratulated herself on finally finding the word she'd been searching for. Melissa was a flibbertigibbet, and although it was certainly none of her business, and she would never dream of giving Sarah advice on her love life, she just didn't see what Sarah saw in Melissa. She seemed like all glitter and no substance.

  Sarah laughed at something Melissa said, that lovely, easy laugh of hers, and Melissa leaned over to kiss Sarah lightly on the lips. Leslie saw the flame leap in Sarah's eyes, and her stomach turned over. She knew what Sarah saw in Melissa, all right. The sex was probably fantastic. Melissa was all clitter and no substance. She bit back a giggle — the chocolate had gone right to her head.

  She left as soon as she could decently do so, but late enough to make it appear she had thoroughly enjoyed herself, and she mostly had. Except for any part of the evening that involved Melissa.

  You're just jealous, she chided herself. There's nothing wrong with Melissa, you just want there to be. Grow up. And get over this crush, because nothing good is going to come of it. Nothing good at all.

  "Thanks for dinner, it was fun."

  Sarah looked up from her monitor and smiled a welcome to Leslie. "It was my pleasure. Believe me, the food has rarely been that good — the cake was insurance."

  "I had chocolate dreams," Leslie said. She leaned against Sarah's desk.

  "What are you working on so intently?"

  "Why, I'm doing completely personal work on company time, of course. I'm changing the car rental for our trip to my grandmother's farm."

  "Is this the farm you're always talking about?"

  "I am not always talking about it," Sarah said. "Only when appropriate."

  "Like telling Mark he didn't know what shit work was until he'd scrubbed a hen roost?"

  "He was whining," Sarah said, aware that Leslie was teasing her.

  "And comparing gardening tips with Richard? Let's see, I do believe you were comparing the efficacy of fertilizer during our last group lunch."

  "Sorry," Sarah mumbled. "I didn't mean to put you off your feed."

  "I'm teasing—"

  "I know —"

  "So have a great time."

  "What did you end up deciding to do?" Sarah knew that Richard had invited Leslie to go with him to a friend's for the holiday.

  "I'll probably go with Richard. But four days of listening to bootleg live Grateful Dead recordings and being stoned most of the time — and eating like a horse, of course — it just doesn't have the appeal it used to. But it is in Stinson Beach."

  "Hmm. Mixed blessings."

  "But I'll have fun. I don't want to stay home because I'll just mope, and there's nothing so pressing here that I want to come to work—"

  A burst of music interrupted Leslie, and Sarah looked at her with eyebrows raised. Someone was playing "Jingle Bells" very loudly. Leslie just grinned and yelled, "Santa's here," over the racket.

  Sarah signed offline and followed Leslie to the newly completed video production area. Most of the programmers were already there, and she stopped short at the sight of Richard in a Santa suit. It was perfect casting.

  "Ho, ho, ho," Richard was chanting. "Is everyone here? Okay, cut the music." He was standing on the stage, which was the only way for him to be taller than anyone else. "The holidays are coming early this year because we're ahead of schedule on everything. Gene and I have, conferred and we believe that our delivery date for beta testing can be moved from next October to next March."

  The programmers let out a cheer. Richard called for quiet again. "Leslie and I are so confident that what we're creating is going to take the video development world by storm that we're giving everyone one hundred shares of stock as a holiday bonus — wait, wait'—and, even better I'm sure you'll all agree — two weeks off, starting next Monday. With pay, of course. Thank you, everybody, for working so hard this year!"

  There was the sound of a cork popping and Sarah saw Gene wave a champagne bottle. "To the best programming staff in the world!"

  Someone turned the music back up and Sarah wanted to bolt out and finish her vacation reservations. Two whole weeks off—she and Melissa could stay the entire week at Grannie MacNeil's. And a hundred more shares of stock, that was an unbelievable bonus. She'd done some research on stock prices for companies like MagicWorks, and there was potential for the price to inflate 10 to 20 times. The hundred shares extra could end up being almost a year's salary.

  Richard was dancing The Pony with Leslie. Their image was up on the big video screen. Sarah went over to Mark, who was acting as cameraman. "I didn't know this was working." Mark swiveled the camera toward Sarah, and she saw herself on the big screen. "Stop that," she ordered him.

  "We're all tired of doing work on videos of ourselves. Do some Perry Mason talk."

  She put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. "I'm not a litigator. And if you don't stop filming me, I'll habeas your corpus."

  "Conga line," someone shouted and the next thing Sarah knew she was being swept into the line. Somehow they managed to do a conga beat to "Holiday Hootenanny." These people are nuts, she thought.

  The line turned on itself and Sarah high-fived Leslie as she went by. But, she added to herself, it's a nice kind of nuts.

  10

  An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice. (Lord Byron.)

  Sarah was glad she'd told Melissa she would stay at work until Melissa's flight came in. She needed the extra hour and a half to drink some coffee — Richard's celebratory champagne had been potent.

  The warehouse was quiet, for once. Everyone had gone home on a wave of good cheer. It was funny, she thought, how much she had come to like working in a small company. The holiday parties at CompuSoft were certainly splashy enough, but beyond a general drunkenness, there wasn't a lot of cheer. What MagicWorks' party had lacked in caviar had been more than offset by spontaneity. Richard had put company resources into what people really wanted — time off and extra income.

  She wasn't too muzzy to finish arranging for an all-weather rental vehicle, complete with chains and a cellular phone, just in case. She was just signing off the rental agency's Web page when she heard the Jaguar's horn outside.

  She hurried out to greet Melissa, who was getting out of the driver's seat. "No, you drive," Sarah said. "I'm still a bit tipsy from our party. Richard gave everybody two weeks off for the holidays."

  "That's great," Melissa said, her gray eyes lighting up. "I have some marvelous news, just unbelievable news, and if you get some time off—it's perfect."

  Sarah cajoled and pleaded for more details, even attempted a freeway seduction, but Melissa was adamant. She was expecting a message on the machine at home, and if the message was good, then she would tell Sarah all the news.

  Melissa raced up the stairs ahead of her and as Sarah came in the door, she heard an unknown woman's voice on the answering machine saying, "Everything was a go."

  Melissa gave a whoop of joy and flew to the door to hug Sarah. "Okay, okay, I'll tell you now." She pulled Sarah into the living room and pushed her down onto the sofa.

  "Shana Dawson is going to be my agent," she said with a million-gigawatt smile.

  "Darling, that's terrific," Sarah said, both amazed and thrilled. No wonder Melissa looked as if she'd won the lottery.

  "There's more. The phone message meant that she was able to get invitations for you and me to go to a really, I mean, really swank New Year's Eve party where everyone who is anyone in the lesbian and gay community will be."

  "Is the party in Los Angeles?" Sarah realized she'd have to modify the return flight, but there was only a small fee to change the tickets.

  "Of course," Me
lissa said. "And guess what else? She also got us an invitation to a Christmas Eve party in Hollywood. The woman who made Dream Shadow will be there."

  Christmas Eve. "So you want to spend Christmas week in L.A.," Sarah said slowly. She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

  "Not just the week, silly! Shana says that there's something going on all the time in L.A. It's just not like here. She can get me entrance to a zillion parties and symposiums, I just have to be ready to go where she says. If you have two weeks off we'll have plenty of time to find an apartment before you give notice. I mean, if you give notice now they won't let you have the time off, will they?"

  "An apartment," Sarah repeated, feeling stupid. She just wasn't tracking what Melissa was saying.

  "Well, we'll need someplace to live, won't we? I told Shana that you found a job here really easily, and she says that the Valley is full of software firms."

  "I lucked into this job," Sarah managed to say. "Melissa, I —"

  "Isn't this the best news?" Melissa sank down onto the sofa next to Sarah. "You are happy, aren't you?"

  "I'm delighted for you." Sarah groped for words. Her head throbbed as if a giant gong had gone off inside her skull.

  "This is really going to lead somewhere, instead of this dead-end grant. I'm going to resign it. It's just not worth my time."

  I don't love her enough to do this again. The realization came to Sarah on the heels of a wave of nausea. "I can't —" She swallowed, hard. "I can't go with you."

  "What? Next week? Oh, you wanted to go to that farm place. I'm sorry, darling. Maybe we can go the week after New Year's."

  "No, I mean I can't go with you to L.A. to live."

  Melissa's glow faded. "But I'm sure you could get another job."

  "I don't want to find another job," Sarah said. "I can't move again so soon. It'll look flaky. And I made a commitment to MagicWorks to do their patent application. I've only done about a quarter of the job. I can't just bail out on my archery students, either. Not when... after L.A., where? Will you go to New York? Chicago?"

  Melissa's chin quivered. After a long silence, she said, "I guess, well, I understand about your not wanting to leave your job. Well, airfare is cheap," she said, more brightly. "Shana did mention that she's got an in-law cottage at her place I could stay in until I can afford a place of my own."

  Sarah had to consciously stop herself from base speculations about exactly where Melissa would be staying. It wasn't the point. Melissa was not getting the point. "That's great," she said, feeling hollow. "But I'm not sure there's any point in my visiting you." She took a deep, shaky breath.

  "What are you saying? That if I go to L.A. we're through?"

  "I'm not giving you an ultimatum," Sarah said, shaking her head. "I know you're going to go. It was inevitable, and I've only just realized it. But I wasn't cut out to be a gypsy."

  "You never really believed I'd make something of myself, did you?" Melissa jammed her hands in her pockets. "I was just a great fuck to you all along, wasn't I?"

  Sarah frowned to hold back her tears. "If I hadn't believed in you, I would never have moved here. It wasn't easy for me to do."

  "And you've been bottling up all that resentment, and I get all of it out of the blue like this? How mature is that?"

  "Oh God, Melissa, I don't want to fight. I don't want to do this." Sarah's shoulders ached, and she realized she wasn't breathing enough. "I haven't resented it. I thought I was investing in something... permanent. I am very happy here. I love my job, I like this apartment — but God, Mel, you can't expect me to pull up my stakes again so fast. I can't believe that you know so little about me that you'd think I could do it. And I've just realized that I knew so little about you that I didn't see this coming. Underneath the passion — we're strangers. And we won't stop being strangers if we have to get on planes to see each other."

  Melissa was blinking back tears. "If you loved me, you wouldn't do this."

  "Do what?" Sarah's voice broke, and she didn't bother to hold back the tears anymore. "And I could say exactly the same thing."

  "Then what's the point?

  "There is no point. That's the point." She wiped her cheeks with hands that trembled.

  Melissa's lips twisted, but she managed to say, "I think I'll use my parents' plane ticket money to buy a car and I'll get out of your hair. You can't get anywhere in L.A. without a car. And I think I'll spend the night at Janica's."

  Sarah held her head in her hands after Melissa left. She was beyond tears. A crushing weariness made it hard to move. She kept replaying the scene with Melissa in her head. It just didn't seem possible for her hopes and dreams to have dissolved so quickly, like a snowman in the rain.

  Melissa would come back — surely she would come back. Sarah went to the window, just as if she expected to see Melissa coming back up the stairs, even though she knew Melissa wouldn't be there. And if Melissa came back, she would just leave again.

  The phone rang and she automatically answered it. A woman asked to speak to Melissa.

  Sarah answered automatically. "I'm sorry, but Melissa isn't in at the moment. May I take a message?"

  "This must be Sarah — it's Molly. How are you?"

  "Fine, and you?"

  "Peachy. Is Mel still in L.A.?"

  "I should see her tomorrow," Sarah answered.

  "Oh," Molly said, sounding a little puzzled. "Well, I'll give her a call then. Nothing important. You know, Sarah, while I have you..."

  "Yes?"

  "I think it's really great what you're doing for Mel. She's very creative, but she needs someone like you to keep her on the planet, know what I mean?"

  "Sure," Sarah said, having no idea what Molly meant.

  "It isn't every aspiring artist who has someone with the means to let them be free."

  "That's me," Sarah said, trying to laugh. "Patron of the arts."

  "Well, you're more than that to Mel, I'm sure. Anyway, I have to run. Just tell her I called."

  "Will do," Sarah said. She hung up the phone and sank against the wall, slowly sliding to the floor. She wrapped her arms around her knees and bowed her head. The phone rang again, but she made no move to answer it. The answering machine whirred, then she listened to a jubilant Geoff announcing that he had gotten the job at Carsey-Mellon.

  Well, at least someone was having a happy Christmas.

  She had no idea how long she sat there, her mind a blank, but a bout of shivers got her back on her feet and into a hot shower.

  She dried the shower wall, folded the towel neatly on the bar, brushed her teeth, flossed, brushed out her hair, slipped into a nightshirt, folded back the covers and turned out the lights, all the while feeling like a sleepwalker. She didn't think she would sleep, but she was shocked awake by her alarm what seemed like minutes later.

  She knew she couldn't face the day. Everyone at work would be talking about what they were going to do with their two weeks and Sarah could barely conceptualize the next two hours. The future just didn't seem real.

  "Sarah's got a head cold, and I scheduled both your finalists to see Richard tomorrow." Melody handed Leslie a plastic-wrapped bundle. "And my mom made these."

  "Ooo, gingerbread cookies," Leslie said. She quickly bit the head off the cookie on top. "Did Sarah call?"

  "Yeah, and she sounded really congested and miserable."

  Leslie hmphed. "I hope it's not too serious."

  "I'm sure you'll be able to render TLC if necessary." Melody snickered.

  "You're impertinent today, aren't you?" Leslie glared at her, then headed for her office.

  "Hey, I'm a shareholder in this company," Melody said, hands on her hips. "Show some respect."

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah," Leslie muttered as she set her backpack down. She chomped on a gingerbread leg and wondered if Sarah was okay. Well, if she wasn't, the lovely and talented Melissa would be there to render comfort. Get on with your work, she admonished herself.

  But concentration el
uded her. She had nothing terribly pressing on her desk except for the accounting stuff. And if Richard liked the two people she'd found she wouldn't have to do it — so why start? With the entire office shutting down in just four more days it was hard to get up a head of steam on something.

  She ambled over to Richard's office to ask about the moved-up timelines for releasing a beta version of Motion. Richard wasn't there, and Gene's office was also unoccupied.

  This is pretty sad, she thought. Surely she could get through a single day without Sarah nearby.

  By noon she was ferociously bored, so she went to her favorite drive-thru and then headed for the nearest mall. She bought herself a new pair of black jeans and then acquired a gigantic box of See's candy for the office. She'd make sure something was left for Sarah, provided she was back to work tomorrow.

  And if Sarah wasn't back, Leslie didn't know how she'd get through the day. Which, all in all, she told herself, was pretty damned pathetic.

  "Your nose is as red as a cranberry, girl."

  Sarah smiled wanly at Melody. "I don't think I'm contagious." She had found maintaining the fiction of a head cold more convenient than the truth.

  "I hope not, I'm going whale watching next week. Christmas in Mendocino. I don't need a cold."

  "Where's Mendocino?"

  "Up the coast about three hours or so. It's a nice, little artisty type place. I'm taking my mom. She hasn't had a proper vacation in three years."

  "Well, aren't you a good daughter," Sarah said. "I didn't even send my mom a Christmas card."

  Melody gave her a stern look. "That karma will come back to bite you in the butt."

  "Yeah, probably," Sarah said. She sniffed and blotted her nose. Maybe if she'd just let herself have a good, long cry, she wouldn't be so weepy.

  Melody's phone rang, and Sarah turned gratefully to her office. Making conversation was so difficult, and so tiring. She settled at her desk, wiped her nose, then fumbled in her satchel for the full box of tissues she'd brought.

  "Hey, you're back."

  Sarah straightened and smiled as much as she was able to at Leslie. For a moment she wanted to tell her everything, but she just couldn't. She couldn't tell anyone what an idiot she had been. Melissa had emptied the apartment of her belongings yesterday afternoon and that was that. She was gone. She was not coming back. Sarah had found herself wondering if Melissa would have waited a week if she'd known her birthday/Christmas present was to have been a computer.