One Degree Of Separation Part 5

Marian wandered back to the counter for her last indulgence of the day. More chocolate on top and two packets of fake sugar completed it to her satisfaction.

31.

Terry scooted over one chair to give Marian easier access to the table.

"New software on the library terminals," Marian said.

"You've had a stinky day, then." Ellie raised her mug for a clink of solidarity.

"Another understatement. It's easy to use but General Public and all the Lieutenants don't like change." The first hit of coffee, chocolate and melting ice felt like ambrosia on her tongue. She was going to live.

"I couldn't work with the public," Jersey volunteered. "I don't know how you do it."

"I like my job, even though today I wanted to commit multiple homicides. I like helping people find what they want." It was hard to explain, though she'd tried before. "Most people want to Blue Book their car or get the latest bestseller, but sometimes what they really want is information about a dream they cherish. Like information about an exotic holiday spot. Or how to file a patent application."

Jersey shrugged. "But can't they use a computer to find books these days?"

There was a short silence. Any other day of the entire month and Marian would not have been offended by Jersey's usual lack of tact.

She wanted to snap back that search words were an art to choose, and one of the real pleasures of her job.

"Oh. I did it again, huh? Sorry, Marian. I know a computer could not possibly do your job, I know that. I was just thinking it would be nice if most people could do self-help and let you do the harder searches."

Mollified, Marian smiled. "I understand what you mean."

"Which is a good thing," Ellie said. "Because she's got PMS."

Terry made a show of inching away from Marian. "Do I need asbestos gloves?"

"Your hormone swings used to be worse than mine, and you know it."

"Thankfully, I am largely free of such worries these days. I love being fifty. Fifty plus lube equals fun."

32.

"Terry!" Jersey flushed. "Do you have to tell our secrets?"

Terry got the wicked smile that Marian loved. "Yes, it's the liber-ation of my inner crone."

"Marian, dear, have you tried that preparation I gave you for your hormone fluctuations?" Carrie regarded Marian serenely.

"It doesn't seem to make much difference. I either want to murder strangers or commit chocolate suicide."

"Oh, dear. Perhaps you should stop by and we'll work out something else."

Marian fought down a blush, remembering the first time she'd stopped into Carrie's herb shop. Right now, her hormones raging, that night with Carrie ran through her mind like a DVD pausing at just the good parts.

Ellie nudged Marian, probably all too aware of what Marian was thinking. d.a.m.n, then she did blush and everyone, including Carrie, snickered.

Inner Historian reported that, according to the Iowa City dance card she carefully maintained in her memory banks, everyone at the table had been with Carrie at least once. Marian wasn't sure anyone at the table besides Carrie knew it as well. It was an odd feeling, realizing Carrie knew what they all sounded like when they climaxed.

Well, she guessed they had all climaxed. She knew she had. Twice.

Carrie's knowledge of female anatomy was better than some of the gynecologists she'd been to.

Now that she thought about it, she realized they all knew what Carrie sounded like, too. It felt, well, naughty, if she pondered it too long. Inner Prude suggested that it would probably be wise, then, not to think about it. Inner s.l.u.t, however, wanted to dwell on all the details. Useless hormones.

"Hey, Patty!" Ellie had the best view of the door, Marian realized, because it was several seconds before Patty's short black hair and broad shoulders came into her line of sight.

"Can't stay," Patty called back. "Just grabbing a latte for Wen.

The line at the Java House was out the door."

33.

"I'm just wiped out," Marian said. She allowed Inner s.l.u.t to watch Patty taking up her position in line. Even standing still Patty's muscles rippled. "I'm going to drink this, go home and sleep until noon."

"Since when do you get Thursdays off?" Ellie demanded. "I've got more pipes to rip out."

"I don't, but I might call in queer. I feel really c.r.a.ppy."

Carrie said kindly, as usual, "A good herbal tea would help, I'm sure."

"Tea is not what Marian needs." Ellie sighed. "If I don't get the new woman, Marian should. She's overdue."

"I'm not in the market," Marian muttered. She clamped her mouth shut. d.a.m.ned hormones. She'd almost blurted out she was in love with her next-door neighbor. Something in her belly felt suddenly off and a dull throb thudded against her pelvic bone.

"You ought to be." Terry gave her a philosophical look. "Don't waste your thirties. Mine were fun, but too short."

"She was in today." The throb repeated itself.

Everyone paused and Marian realized what she'd said.

"What's her name?" Ellie smiled sweetly, which meant she was resisting the urge to smack Marian.

"I'm sorry, that's library records."

Jersey set down her cup and gave Marian an intent stare. "Oh, not her name, surely."

"Yes, including her name. And don't call me Shirley."

"Marian, how long have we been friends?"

"Forever, Ellie, and I still can't tell you." At the moment, Marian honestly couldn't remember. The throb in her pelvis was getting stronger.

"I'll never forgive you if Sandy gets her first."

"Join the F.B.I. and bring some special agents with you invoking the Patriot Act, and then I can tell you."

"She lives here in town?"

"I can't tell you that."

34.

"Marian!"

"Ellie!"

Ellie got that look, that about-to-burst-into-song look.

"Ellie, don't you dare. Not today."

"Tell me her name."

Patty paused at the table, leaning her square, buff frame over Ellie's shoulder. "If you sing aMarian the Librarian' I will help Marian kill you."

"Amen," Carrie added. "Fresh Meat is not worth fighting over."

"Oh, I don't know, she's gorgeous." Ellie continued to give Marian a narrow stare.

"Let's do a pool." Terry smiled brightly. "I'm willing to place a bet."

"Oh no, guys, please . . ." Marian began. She suddenly ached all over. She was in no mood for proof that everyone regarded her as the least likely to attract the interest of a new woman. That she didn't want to attract anyone at this point in her life was suddenly beside the point.

Dollar bills floated onto the table. Even Patty dropped one in.

"My money's on Carrie," Jersey said firmly.

"How flattering-but our auras weren't compatible." Carrie regarded Marian serenely. "I'm not seeking her out."

"Neither am I," Marian said quickly. "And I'm not betting."

"We should get Hemma and Amy to bet," Terry added.

Great, just what I need, Marian thought, the woman I love betting for or against me seducing someone else. Her mood went from charcoal to black.

"So everyone is backing Ellie?" Terry poised her pen over a napkin she'd already dated. "You want to change your mind, honey?"

Jersey glanced at Carrie and then nodded. "Okay, I'll back Ellie, too."

"Wait." Ellie put her hand over the small pile of bills. "If you all pick me you'll just get your money back. This is pointless."

"Then I'll make it interesting," Carrie said. "I'm betting on Marian."

35.

"But I'm not trying."

Terry did her perfect Yoda impression. "There is no try, only do, young Skywalker."

"But I don't want to do her." Marian glanced around. "Seriously."

"There are lots of babies in the world that prove you don't have to be actively trying to create something new." Carrie shrugged.

"It'll make the bet worth doing."

"Guys?" Marian put her hand on her abdomen.

"What?" Ellie snapped.

"I've got cramps."

The napkins on the table ruffled in the collective sigh of relief.

Ellie touched her cup to Marian's in salute. "Thank goodness."

"Way to go." Terry slapped Marian on the shoulder. She gathered up the bills and folded them into the napkin on which she had recorded their bets. "Carrie takes the long odds, so we have our-selves a horse race."