The Kiss That Counted

by Karin Kallmaker

  "So she's a member of the Greater Metro Area SPCA—"

  "She is?" Karita now crowded behind CJ as well. "I wonder if she'd support Nann's rescue."

  "I saw her first," Emily said.

  CJ turned to look at Emily and saw that the two of them had twined their arms around each other's waists. It seemed completely unconscious. Ignoring it, CJ said, "She likes to support the arts, animals and children. I'm looking at what she doesn't support. Not a sports team on the list. No booster clubs, no athletic events. She might give to walk-a-thon type things, but not at a level that she's getting picked up as a regular sponsor."

  Emily was clearly getting overwhelmed. "I just want three thousand dollars to do some training."

  One of Karita's eyebrows was reaching toward her hairline. "No sports? Like…maybe…she doesn't like pro sports? Oh. I see where you're going."

  "I don't." Emily glanced at her watch. "And your five minutes are just about up."

  CJ loved pressure. She always had thrived on the idea of doing the impossible in the shortest time. "Dear Ms. Brownell. On Saturday night, the University of Colorado and its biggest rival will face off at the annual Homecoming game. That night, at least seven children and their terrified mothers will be brought to the Beginnings Women's Shelter possibly because the game didn't turn out the way daddy wanted." Karita whistled.

  After a stunned silence, Emily said, "God, that's manipulative."

  "Pro-sports advertising isn't? The link between pro-sports events and the incidence of domestic violence is real, right?"

  Emily nodded, but her tone was laden with exasperation. "It's indisputable, just like the link between drinking and domestic violence. Neither causes somebody to beat someone else, but they set the stage for the lowering of restraint, or act as an outright trigger for existing batterers. Battering is like a toxic by-product."

  Karita leaned over CJ's shoulder and the scent of her shampoo—hints of vanilla and rosewood—washed over CJ's senses. Peering at the screen she said, "I feel like a fool. I could have looked most of this up at work. We've got Lexis. I don't know this service."

  "It's not as deep on court flings and probably longer on the social stuff. A lot of it's free via Google or Yahoo searches, but Intellidome organizes the data. I'd have to follow twenty-thirty links to get this list of social groups. Oh, she has done a walk-a-thon—Susan G. Komen Foundation. Breast cancer. And it looks like she brought in a thousand bucks a kilometer. So where she gives, she's very likely to bring in others."

  Emily ran her hands through her short curls. "This is more than I can sort through."

  CJ knew she couldn't forget about Daria. She shouldn't be putting down more roots, more ties, when it was perfectly clear she'd already put down far more than was good for her. Karita's hair chose that moment to slide from her back and over CJ's shoulder, whispering past CJ's ear and leaving a trail of silken warmth along CJ's neck. She heard herself say, "Let me do this for you. I'll bring back a letter and packet next week."

  "Oh, that's wonderful," Karita said. She straightened up, and CJ felt cold where Karita's hair had temporarily rested along her shoulder and arm.

  "Your community service is up," Emily said. "Why would you do this?"

  CJ took a moment to log out of the online service before answering. She didn't look at Karita but the glow of her pleasure, that CJ was doing something that made Karita happy, left CJ feeling sun-dazzled. Instead she focused on Emily and what she would want to hear. "I come from a long line of people who talked other people into parting with their money. My ancestors got here a few centuries ago via a prison boat into Georgia. My generation, at least—I'm trying to use that lineage and stay out of jail."

  Even as she said it, she knew it wasn't just what Emily needed to hear, it was the truth. Maybe she was a thief, and a consummate liar, adept at knowing what people needed to believe before they'd agree to her plans, but she wasn't going to do anything that sent her back to any kind of prison. She might have just discovered, however, something she could do with all her worst qualities that somehow, in the end, turned out okay for everybody involved. Frankly, she was suspicious that such a thing was even possible. It was too easy, the rewards too high.

  The doorbell rang and Emily, first one to the monitor said, "Wow—two women and it looks like five kids. It's early, too. We'll need DVDs in the common room."

  Karita quickly slipped out of the tiny office. "The Looking Glass room is the biggest if they want to share the space."

  "Wait until I find out."

  CJ thought about getting out her BlackBerry and writing up the ideas she had for the Brownell appeal, but instead she headed for the linen closet. Sheets and towels were always needed.

  She heard Karita say something lightly teasing to Emily about "Anita" and recalled the casual contact between the two. Anyone wanting to get involved with Karita would have to take Emily into account. In the language of the Gathering, if Karita was the perfect mark, Emily was the spoiler. They might not be headed down the aisle but they were clearly bonded. Not that she was thinking in those terms—Christ, didn't she have enough to worry about? Daria had turned up like a death card in a bad life reading.

  So she was going to just go through the rest of her life hoping Daria didn't come looking for her? If she was going to be that stupid, why didn't she just ask Karita for a date right now and buy the entire handbasket? Sure, she wanted to be the woman who put shadows into the clearest, most glimmering blue eyes on the planet. She wanted to be responsible for tarnishing the most precious thing she'd ever seen. That's what a thief would do, wasn't it?

  Heaven help her—her shoulder was still warm from where Karita's hair had draped over it. If she wanted to live she had to run, but running would be the end of any life worth having.

  "I think your idea sounds great." Karita smiled at CJ across the bed they were making. That CJ might be around the shelter after tonight was a very pleasing idea. She wanted to help in useful ways that only she could—she was no Mandy, no karmically bankrupt yuppie, to quote Emily. "And thank you for offering to help out Emily with it."

  "It's an extension of my existing skill set," CJ said. She seemed almost shy.

  "Were you serious about your ancestors? They came here incarcerated?"

  "Serious. That's what I was always told, anyway. A very long line of…unconventional thinkers."

  "My people were apparently chasing fish, but we don't go back that far. Gran was twelve when they left the old country. She'd teach me little magic phrases and it wasn't until I was grown that—could you hand me that pillowcase?" She tucked the pillow under her chin and began working the case up. "It wasn't until I was grown that I realized they were in Norwegian."

  "What else would they have been?" CJ turned to pick up a blanket and Karita hoped that she was done blushing by the time CJ looked at her again.

  "Oh, we had a running joke about it being elvish." She didn't analyze closely why she wanted to tell CJ about that.

  "That suits." CJ still wasn't looking at her. "You could pass for an elf with a little ear surgery maybe."

  Karita realized she'd been holding her breath. CJ didn't think it was stupid, maybe. "Well, I'm not sure it's ears so much as a state of mind."

  "Certainly not fake ears. DNA is DNA. Some of us were born elves, and some of us were…not. Blood will out." CJ looked at her then, her dark gaze so conflicted that Karita started to ask what was wrong, but CJ added, "I forget who said that."

  "Isn't that what the Internet was invented for? To look up obscure facts to avoid tossing and turning at night?"

  "I'm certain that's what they had in mind, sure." CJ gave her a droll look.

  "You're right, you know. After the big game, there will be at least one child here specifically because dad didn't like the outcome."

  Lucy appeared in the doorway looking freshly scrubbed from the shower at her gym. "Do you guys have any spare shampoos?"

  Karita fished one out of the grocery bag on the
bed. "Need anything else?"

  "This will do it." Lucy caught the tossed minicontainer. "CJ, are you doing anything tomorrow night? I've got a spare ticket for the Roadrunners soccer game. They're NCAA Division Tw o champs."

  CJ blushed and Karita found herself holding her breath again. "I, um—maybe Karita—"

  "She doesn't like sports," Lucy said quickly. "Besides, she's got a hot date with some lawyer babe."

  "Is that so?" CJ quirked an I-thought-you-said-it-wasn't-a-date eyebrow at her and Karita squirmed. "I don't know much about soccer."

  Lucy hooked a thumb in the waistband of her jeans. "Nubile young women in shorts. What's more to know?"

  Karita envied Lucy her easy, gamin grin. She seemed completely casual around CJ while Karita struggled to avoid sounding like a twit.

  "Would that make us dirty old women?"

  "Yes, it would."

  "In that case, sounds fun." CJ plumped up the pillow in her hands. "Do you want to meet there?"

  "How about a bite to eat first? Wynkoop Brewing Company has great beer."

  "Sure. That's in LoDo, right?"

  Lucy's laugh was easy. "Yeah. I haven't babe-watched in LoDo in at least two years. Game's at seven. Do you want to meet at Wynkoop at five?"

  "Sounds terrific."

  "Cool." Lucy breezed away, leaving Karita to combat unwelcome jealousy.

  "Nubile young women, eh? Is that your type of thing?"

  "I don't know." CJ's voice was oddly strained. "It'll be a first Sounds like Lucy could really use a night out."

  "She hasn't had many for quite a while, that's for sure." Abruptly puzzled, Karita tipped her head at CJ. "What about your girlfriend? The one I saw you with at the coffee bar?"

  "We broke up. It wasn't all that serious and she met someone who could be and that was that."

  "Oh. You didn't say."

  "No, I didn't. So Pam's really a date?"

  "Yeah. She asked and I thought, well, why not?"

  "What about…" CJ gave a meaningful look at the foorboards between them and Emily's office.

  "We're not—we didn't exactly break up because we weren't exactly dating. It was more of a, well, a thing…"

  "Friends with benefits thing?"

  Karita frowned. "I'd like to think more than that. Em is really special to me. But the time in our lives when we occasionally needed more is over."

  "Oh."

  They gazed at each other across the bed. I don't even know why I'm going out with Pam, Karita thought. How had life gotten so complicated? It was as if their lives kept trying to overlap but then their paths got tangled and redirected. Fate was having a laugh.

  Emily called out from downstairs and CJ started, then quickly said, "I'll go."

  After showing the two women with the five kids the room they would all share, Karita couldn't find CJ and presumed she was for some reason in the dining room where Emily was doing the intake on a new arrival. A few minutes later a small, pale woman with a dark-haired little girl, maybe five or six, emerged with CJ gently shepherding them toward the common room where The Muppet Show was playing. The little girl was immediately drawn to the television but not before Karita noticed how stiffly she moved. Her mother, no more than thirty, moved delicately, like a woman of eighty. Nothing marked their faces but Karita was willing to bet both had been kicked while already on the ground. Even though she'd learned that getting angry on the behalf of their clients wasn't a useful response, she felt it, and she knew that Emily did too. Anger was one of the forces that kept them here, and they put it to productive use, trying to beat the long odds.

  CJ slowly walked the mother along the first floor to the rear bedroom, pausing at the linen closet for sheets and towels. "It's the Rose room," CJ was saying. "I think your daughter will like the colors."

  After a glance at her watch, Karita headed for the kitchen to help with producing the night's running fare of popcorn, milk and juice. Emily had already set the microwave to work on the first bag so Karita took on watering down the apple juice by a third, as recommended by their volunteer pediatric supervisor. Emily had lined up reusable plastic tumblers of all colors on the tray by the time Karita began pouring.

  "We make a good team, you know?" Emily went to start a second bag of popcorn while Karita continued filling the small cups.

  "I know. I hope that it's always true."

  Lowering her voice, Emily said, "Anita turned me down a bit ago."

  "Oh, I'm so sorry."

  "But she said yes to next Tuesday."

  Karita squealed with delight. "Told you so! That's wonderful. And you are so cute when you blush."

  Emily gave her a weak-assed attempt at a scowl. "Am not."

  "Are too."

  "Is what?" Lucy, arriving from the laundry room, pinched a couple of popped kernels from the large bowl.

  "Cute when she blushes."

  Lucy arched an eyebrow. "If you like that sort of thing." She ducked Emily's playful slap.

  Pauline appeared from the back porch, all in a rush. "I'm sorry guys. I got held up at work. I'll get out of my scrubs before the clients see me. Hey, leave me some popcorn. I missed dinner again." She disappeared into the tiny bathroom just past the row of lockers.

  Emily picked up the bowl. "We've got seven kids so far. Lucy, could you make another bag in about five minutes?"

  Karita followed Emily into the common room, explained to the mothers what was in the juice cups and the room's tension eased as everyone shared food. The house was always better with the giggles of children.

  She realized the little dark-haired girl's mother wasn't back and she didn't want to say yes to any food without checking about allergies with her mother. "I'll just go ask your mom, okay? Be right back."

  As she approached the Rose room she could hear the quiet sound of weeping and the unmistakable murmur of CJ's husky voice. She paused, just out of sight, not wanting to startle or intrude.

  CJ was saying, "She's really going to hurt in the morning. They heal faster but it still hurts."

  Through her tears, the mother said, "He's never hit her before. It was just me. I don't know what to do."

  I should intervene, Karita thought, remembering that CJ had fainted after her first intense encounter with a client. She leaned quietly into the doorway in time to see CJ sit down on the bed next to the client.

  CJ touched the other woman on the hand, briefly, and said, "My father didn't hit me until I was about your daughter's age. I was pretty used to it because my aunt was quick with a slap if she caught you looking. I remember it though, because it was different. I didn't know he'd stop. When he started on my mother I never stayed around to see how and when he stopped. I didn't know how long I'd have to take it and that was really scary."

  "Why did he do it?"

  "I don't care." CJ's tone was fat and Karita found herself swallowing back tears. "He never hit me again, though."

  "Oh. That was good, then."

  The chilling, emotionless edge to CJ's voice sharpened. "Well, it depends on your thinking. The next time he went off on my mom he killed her."

  Karita's heart twisted so hard in her chest she nearly gasped. Dear Lord, she thought, it explains so much.

  "I don't have many memories of her now. He started hitting her and I ran for it, like always. I wonder if I'd stayed if he might have spared her some because he had me to hit too, but I'll never know. She was dead the next morning and after that he didn't hit me. He and my aunt would slug it out sometimes, but he left me alone."

  The tissue the woman was twisting around and around in her hands came apart. Her eyes were wide with shock. "Weren't there cops? Did he go to jail?"

  "Not for that. We, our clan, moved a lot and after we were gone if an unidentified body floated up out of a lake or river, well, nobody cared. She wasn't the only one who got lost along the way. He beat my mother the way your man is beating you. Punches and kicks to the body. I don't know why she died. Maybe a rib broke and tore open a lung. Or kicks t
o the kidneys, or maybe he finally choked her to death because sometimes he just felt like throttling her."

  The woman put a visibly shaking hand to her throat.

  "What happens to your daughter after he kills you? That's what you have to keep asking yourself. What happens to her? My father let me live. Will hers?"

  Karita realized she'd let it go on too long. The client was overloaded. CJ was probably doing some good but Emily was the professional. The creak of the floorboard betrayed her presence and CJ glanced up.

  Karita tried her best to look as if she'd just arrived but she knew her shock probably showed in her face. "Is it okay if your daughter has some watered down apple juice and microwave popcorn? The other kids are all having some."

  "Is there milk? She didn't get any at dinner. She needs it for her b-bones." The woman's composure dissolved completely and she buried her face into CJ's arm.

  For a shocked moment, CJ didn't move, then she put an arm around the thin shoulders.

  "I'll get Emily," Karita said quietly. The grateful look CJ gave her sent Karita speeding away.

  With a few short words she filled Emily in, but didn't relate the gist of CJ's story. She joined the crowd in the common room, smiled at the right times, laughed with a couple of the kids, but all the while she kept thinking about what she'd overheard. From the nearly two years of working with Emily she knew that she had to separate her pity for CJ the child from her empathy for CJ the woman. CJ was no longer a child. Even if Karita ached to put her arms around the little girl inside, it wasn't a little girl she would be holding. Given her other feelings, given that kiss, it would be disastrous for her to confuse her impulses.

  Emily had been right—CJ was a ticking time-bomb of issues. Beyond a doubt, warm and safe arms, a loving touch, would help. For a few minutes, it would help. And then the issues would still be there. Wanting more than a hug would still be very, very real.

  CJ peeked into the common room from the doorway before heading to the kitchen. Karita wanted to follow her but knew herself too well. She would want to comfort the child, pour all the magic she had into the wounds, but that could lead them to a crossroads where they made choices without being certain of their reasons.