One Degree Of Separation Part 16

Mary Jane's guffaw turned heads. "I didn't know you were that kind of girl, Marian!"

Liddy watched Marian's cheeks stain with red. But her eyes flashed with humor as she replied, "Who needs to be, with you around?"

Regaining what seemed to be habitual composure, Mary Jane simply said, "Touche, my dear Miss Pardoo."

Carrie gave Mary Jane an indulgent look. "You can be such a juve-nile sometimes."

"Gotta stay young somehow," Mary Jane quipped.

"And I'm surprised at you, Marian, stooping to her level." A light breeze rose for a moment, and Liddy caught the muted, refreshing scent of rosemary and oranges.

"With Marian it's the other way around. Everybody has to stoop to her level," Eric said quickly.

Marian gave him a cross look. "That's right. From the double entendres to the short jokes. What would I do without my friends?"

Liddy realized Carrie was holding out her hand. "I'm Carrie Bloom. We haven't been formally introduced."

"Liddy Peel." She added awkwardly, "I'm here for the summer doing research."

"A pleasure," Carrie said.

Liddy murmured something likewise. That lovely aroma of oranges and herbs was coming from Carrie. Her dun-colored 95 clamdiggers and loosely crocheted top attractively framed a generous figure that only a fool would dismiss as maternal. Liddy wasn't sure but she thought she spied the outline of a nipple ring. Carrie was very sensuous in a flowery granola Birkenstock way. Okay, she thought, considering that you didn't come here to date, you're notic-ing every single d.y.k.e in this town.

"A dab of essential lavender oil will take the sting out of that mosquito bite," Carrie volunteered. She pointed at Liddy's shoulder.

"Really?" Liddy peered at the bite. It didn't itch yet. "I'll keep that in mind."

"I carry it at my shop, or you can also pick it up at Soap Opera. It all comes from my garden no matter where you get it. Oh-time to break down the serving area. Thanks for your support, everybody."

Liddy struggled to remember something Ellie had said earlier in the week. "Is she the one with the holistic love couch?"

Eric choked on his water and Mary Jane's eyebrows rocketed upward.

After she stopped coughing into her napkin, Marian said, "I guess you could say that. The grapevine in this town never ceases to amaze me."

Mary Jane added gently, "Carrie looks at s.e.x as a spiritual bond-ing, not an emotional one." She struggled to appear serious, but the smile that twisted the corners of her mouth was winning. "I would venture to say if you're invited to share the sacrament with her, you won't regret it. But the invitation isn't a guarantee."

Marian was bright red again. "You'll be asked right away or not at all. And whatever magic Carrie's conjuring, I have to admit it works for her."

"Not just for her. Not given that you're red as a pomegranate."

"Oh, thank you for pointing that out, Mary Jane." Marian took a deep breath, but stayed quite red. Liddy rather liked it. "I was simply trying to say that Carrie may be the most content person I know. She has exactly the life she wants."

96.

"Or she's learned how not to want what she doesn't have," Liddy observed. "I have problems with that one."

If anything, Marian grew redder. What did I say, Liddy wondered.

"I'm afraid it's time for me to go to back to work," Mary Jane said.

"Me too," Eric added. "Lucky Marian with the morning off."

Marian retorted, "I was up at five, how lucky was that? And I work until closing tonight."

Eric looked at Liddy and fluttered his eyelashes, the picture of innocence. "How lucky you are remains to be seen, doesn't it?"

"Jesus," Marian muttered. "Do you guys give each other points for making me blush, or what?"

Eric nodded serenely as he rose. "Mary Jane's ahead right now."

"It's like shooting fish in a barrel," Mary Jane said. "Which is not to say it isn't fun."

They wandered off, laughing, and Liddy watched Marian's face slowly resume a more normal hue.

Marian sipped her water. "Who needs friends . . ."

"When do you have to be at work?"

"Two."

"Oh, so you would need lunch around one."

"Sure."

"And if you needed lunch at one-" Liddy glanced at her watch- "two hours and fifteen minutes from now, where would a person find you, needing your lunch?"

"h.e.l.l, the way this week has gone, you'd find me at the Java House face down in the Colossal Chocolate Cake."

"That bad?"

Marian's gaze lifted from her empty paper plate and Liddy found herself falling into a mix of golds and greens. Hazel was just too ordinary to describe Marian's eyes. Her breath stopped for a moment.

"My week is definitely getting better," Marian murmured just before her lips touched Liddy's in a sweet, lingering kiss.

97.

Swear to freakin' G.o.d, Liddy thought. If anyone had told her she'd get kissed at a pancake breakfast in Iowa City, she'd have never believed them. Marian tasted deliciously of strawberry. Then the kiss wasn't sweet anymore, it was wet and hot, and needles of electricity shot up and down the insides of Liddy's thighs.

Where, she wondered, had Marian the Librarian from Iowa City learned to kiss like this? Light touches were followed by brushes of lips and a fleeting touch of her tongue that left Liddy feeling as if she'd never considered the pa.s.sion a woman's mouth could hold before. Which was ridiculous. She'd been kissed plenty of times.

But not like this.

It felt so good that it took her a moment to realize that Marian had pulled away. She was belatedly aware that she had a stupidly satisfied grin on her face and she attempted to conjure up some dignity.

Marian wasn't blushing. If anything she looked smug.

"I could go away now and look for you at the Java House at one,"

Liddy finally said.

Marian's fingertips touched the inside of Liddy's forearm. "If that's what you want."

"Or we could have lunch now." Her arm tingled where Marian was lightly brushing it.

"We just had breakfast."

"We could skip the food and make it a really long lunch."

Marian's gold-green eyes were serious. "I'm not ready for more than . . . this. I'm hardly prepared for how this feels." Her fingertips traced the inside of Liddy's wrist.

"I wasn't suggesting we go somewhere and . . . you know." Part of her had been. And she was the one who hated being presumed available. d.a.m.n, now she was blushing. "Maybe we could go to a movie.

Or see the sights. Or something. Since we're both here and I a.s.sume you've got the time to take pity on a California girl who doesn't know her way around."

"You know your way around fine. Just watch those U-turns."

Marian's eyes were sparkling now. "But okay, maybe I can give you a tour of the lovely lakes and point out native flora and fauna."

98.

It was the last thing Liddy usually wanted to do, but right then she'd have gone anywhere Marian suggested, on the hope that sooner or later Marian would kiss her again. Swear to freakin' G.o.d, Liddy, what happened to pledging off women and s.e.x for a while?

Marian the Librarian is what had happened, she told herself. "You're on."

Marian carried their breakfast detritus to the nearest trash can.

Liddy watched her walking back, so enamored of the way the olive T-shirt clung to Marian's curves that she didn't read the lettering at first. When she did she burst out laughing.

"What?" Marian abruptly looked nervous.

"Are you?" Liddy stared pointedly at Marian's T-shirt.

Marian glanced down, then the tips of her ears tinted pink. But her voice was nearly a purr when she asked, "Which part?"

"I already know you're a librarian. Can I really check you out?"

"This is a public place." Marian slid back onto the bench next to Liddy. "And there are children about. So I don't think checking me out is a good idea."

Liddy leaned forward until her lips were a half-inch from Marian's. She waited until Marian half-exhaled in antic.i.p.ation, then slowly, firmly pressed her lips to Marian's. Marian gasped again as Liddy nibbled on Marian's lower lip, then kissed lightly across Marian's mouth. "Tell me then."

"Tell you what?"

"The last bit on your shirt. If I checked you out, would I find you Dewey?"

Marian's smile reached her eyes, making them shine. "Those wacky librarians do like a pun."

Liddy snickered, then whispered in Marian's ear, "But are you?

Dewey?"

"I'm not joking about that." Marian leaned back and all the laughter was gone. "And I'm a bit surprised by it and more than a little scared. I'm not like this, usually. The one time I was . . .

impetuous . . . ended very badly."

99.

Liddy's thoughts-against all her better judgment-of pleasant noontime dalliance fizzled out. "I can understand that. Besides, neither of us is in the market, remember?"

"Oh, I remember," Marian said. She rose and gestured for Liddy to precede her out of the roped-off area. "I think our brains are not listening to our bodies, though."

"More like the other way around."

"Marian, hold up!" They both turned to watch Ellie scurrying toward them.

"Hey, Ellie. You've met Liddy, right?"

"Yeah, we talked last night-hey, was Sandy here this morning?

Have you seen her?"

"She left maybe a half-hour ago, why?"

"Her mom called. Her dad's had another small stroke and she'd like Sandy to drive over to the hospital if she can. It didn't sound urgent, but I think Sandy'd want to know right away, but she's not answering her cell."