One Degree of Separation (18 page)

She’d have to be careful about the heat though.

Marian just
thought
she still loved the rotten ex, that was all.

Maybe it still hurt, and she was mistaking that for a broken heart.

She showered thoroughly, moisturized every inch of her body and brushed her hair into its normal, gentle wave. No ball cap or ponytail today. Her polish would survive another couple of days. Red shorts and a simple white ribbed tank top would work for the afternoon swelter. She found a pair of twisted gold earrings, plucked a disgusting stray hair from her chin and decided she’d primped enough.

The ribbed top clung in the right places, the mirror told her. She didn’t care if the rest of the world looked or not. But she’d give a lot to see those gold-green eyes pop right out of Marian’s head.

Even telling herself she’d only known Marian for three days didn’t calm her heartbeat. She turned the air conditioning in the Hummer up full-blast and headed in the direction of the Pedestrian Mall.

Sunday, she thought, free parking. To her delight there were parking spaces to be had, and she nabbed one right in front of the Java House. It was a sign from above that she needed caffeine. After she locked the car she realized that Marian’s Beetle, with the “I hope to be the person my dog thinks I am” bumper sticker, was parked just three spaces up. Now
that
was fortuitous. Maybe.

She placed her order and heard someone call her name.

Carrie waved an invitation to join her and two other familiar faces. She sifted through her brain. Something about mobsters ... Jersey, she recalled. The other woman she hadn’t met.

It felt, well, rather good to carry her drink over and settle into a comfortable chair, welcome to chat. Jersey and her girlfriend were holding hands. Liddy quickly learned that Terry, the girlfriend, was a veterinarian.

Jersey explained, “Terry’s, like, the only dyke in I.C. I know with just one career. She doesn’t even have a serious hobby.”

“It doesn’t leave me enough time for anything else but you, my love.” Terry ran her free hand through her gray hair. Liddy idly wished that when her hair went gray it was that thick.

“Lovebirds.” Carrie shrugged. “Oh, my, speaking of which.” They all followed Carrie’s gaze to the counter. Ellie and Sandy were there, and they were standing very close together. Flirting, Ellie laughed and pushed her hair back. Sandy watched indulgently.

“Oh, my is right.” Jersey craned her neck to see over Terry’s shoulder. “Reunited?”

Terry shrugged.

“Oh, I’d say yes.” Carrie seemed certain. “Their auras are very effusive with happy emotions right now. I’ve not seen either of them this happy in months.”

“Me neither,” Terry said, her voice quiet. “I didn’t think Sandy would risk it again.”

Ellie and Sandy joined them, but no one asked any pressing questions. Instead, Ellie grilled Liddy about Dana Moon again, and Carrie wanted to know if Liddy had ever had a homeopathic evaluation.

Questions about Dana Moon were easy to answer since she knew so little.

“We met at her agent’s office so I have no idea if she really does sleep in a coffin. And no, I’ve never had a homeopathic evaluation,” Liddy admitted.

“You have some tension in you, but your diet appears good.” Carrie’s bright green gaze swept over Liddy’s body. Liddy wondered if this was a come-on for the holistic love couch. “While you’re here I’d be happy to give you a checkup. You would be surprised what the right mix of supplements could do for you.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said noncommittally. Tea leaves and wort of newts—her parents would be delighted if she stuck with some sort of homeopathic routine. They’d tried and failed to turn her into a true believer.

“Of course,” Carrie said understandingly. She smiled warmly, but Liddy didn’t sense a single ounce of sexual heat in it. Maybe she wasn’t a candidate for the love couch, which would suit her just fine, even though she did wonder why she didn’t qualify. How fickle was that?

Carrie turned to Sandy. “I was going to remind you about a few things I recommended, but at the moment you look remarkably healthy. Glowing, in fact.”

Sandy colored and stared at her feet.

“Thank you, Dr. Carrie,” Ellie said. “What would we do without you?”

“Do dykes on bikes?”

“Too much leather for me.”

“Is there such a thing as too much leather?” Liddy finished her iced coffee while Carrie and Ellie bickered.

Not really wanting to join in, she instead glanced at Sandy, trying to decide how someone so quiet could mesh with a volatile woman like Ellie.

She was surprised, however, to realize that Sandy and Terry were looking at each other. Sandy shrugged ever so slightly and lowered her gaze for a moment. Terry lifted an eyebrow and gave Sandy an unmistakable inquiring look. Sandy shrugged again and then darted a glance at Jersey. This time Sandy had the inquiring look and Terry looked away.

Dyke shorthand for something, Liddy thought, but not a lingo she could translate. Carrie’s moves to leave made Liddy give up trying.

“I’m off to drop some samples at Soap Opera.” Carrie winked at Liddy. “Are you walking that direction?”

Liddy colored, but suddenly she didn’t mind who knew she was interested in Marian. Swear to freakin’ god, Liddy thought, I could get used to having friends. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.” Sandy and Ellie and Jersey and Terry all waved, and Liddy had an impression of an awkward silence falling as she and Carrie left.

“What’s that about?” Liddy followed Carrie around the corner to the mall, dodging the ubiquitous chess game with the oversized pieces.

“Secrets,” Carrie answered mysteriously. “Family secrets.”

“Am I better off not knowing?”

“Depends.” Carrie stepped around the falafel cart to avoid a small group enjoying a guitarist.

“On what?”

“If you’re sticking around.”

“Okay, I can see that.” Liddy glanced at Carrie’s ruddy cheeks and glowing eyes. Marian had said she was content with her life, and Liddy could see what she meant. “I don’t know. We’re off to a rocky start.”

“You don’t have to do it all in a day. Some things are better in time.”

They parted ways at the fountain. Carrie turned toward Soap Opera and Liddy toward the library.

She gave herself a minute to calm down. She wanted to seem poised and confident when she saw Marian. She brushed imaginary lint off her shorts, then noticed—to her horror—that she’d missed a patch on one leg while shaving. Would Marian notice? Well, she couldn’t go all the way home to fix it.

I am what I am, Marian Sue Pardoo. Liddy smoothed the tank top and made sure the scalloped edges curved evenly over her cleav-age. You ain’t seen nothing like me yet.

“That porn guy is back.” Marian regarded her immediate super-visor, Dean, the head of reference, with an aggrieved air. This was the last thing her Sunday needed.

Dean gave her a weary look. “Are you sure?”

“If we wait another five minutes we’ll have to dry clean the chair.” She fought down a shudder. “Mary Jane’s day off, and you’re person-in-charge.”

Dean heaved a sigh. “Same guy from last week?”

“Yeah, the middle-aged guy with the ‘Shit Happens’ T-shirt. He’s been in magazines for a while, but he finally got a computer. Another patron has complained.” Come on, Dean, she thought. Mary Jane would have had him out of here by now.

Dean finally got up and she led the way, then stood back to provide visual backup. She
hated
this. These kinds of patrons got rude and mean, sometimes, and it wasn’t as if anyone ever considered that dealing with public masturbation was in a librarian’s job description.

“Excuse me, sir,” Dean said firmly, and just loud enough to attract the attention of the nearest patrons. “You need to stop what you’re doing or I will call the police.”

“Fuck off,” the man snarled.

Dean turned toward the reference desk where the nearest phones were. “I am calling the police.”

Cursing, the man got up. Marian noticed him pulling his hand out of his pocket. The erection was hard to miss. He stomped his way toward the exit while she quickly shut his monitor off so no other patrons would see the lurid photographs.

She was just turning to thank Dean for handling the matter when the man suddenly lunged at a reshelving cart near the lobby. “Hey!” Her cry was lost in the sound of the books cascading to the floor as he pulled the cart onto its face. Reaching for the next one, he swore loudly and yanked it over as well.

Marian froze, horrified. Dean was already dialing 911. She was not stupid enough to try to stop him. Staff and patron safety were her only responsibilities.

“Leave him alone—please get back,” Marian called to one man who looked as if he were going to interfere. “The police have been called.”

Another cart crashed over as a stream of violent invectives flew, and Marian backed away. Okay, she was afraid. Eric was on the other side of the floor and two other staff members hovered worriedly at a distance. There was a rush of footsteps on the stairs from the upper floor, but thankfully no one came down. She could hear Dean describing the man as she took prudent cover behind the microfiche drawers.

All the carts tipped, the man swung around to the door, looking, Marian hoped, for escape. The door opened and to her horror a woman with a stroller and two kids came in, followed by Liddy, who had held the door.

If not for the stroller, he’d have made his way past everyone, but the stroller blocked most of the door, leaving Liddy the easiest thing to push aside. Marian was already running to help, thinking only of Liddy’s tender skin and gentle fingers, of ribs that had seemed so delicate under her hands.

He swung at Liddy to get her out of his way, and Marian watched in shock as Liddy grabbed the swinging arm and propelled the heav-ier man into the doorjamb. The woman with the stroller yelped and grabbed at the closest of the two kids, then Marian had the other one, carrying the child away from the struggle.

She wanted to shout at Liddy that there was no telling if this guy was armed or what. She surrendered the squealing kid to the terrified mother and swung back to Liddy just in time to see her duck out of his way as he went for the door again. To Marian’s immense relief, Liddy let him go.

Liddy staggered, gasping for breath. “What was that about? What happened?”

“You idiot, you didn’t have to do some bullshit he-man routine!” Marian knew she was shouting, but her adrenaline was pumping too hard not to.

Liddy looked at her in astonishment. “I was just pushing him away from the kids!”

“You could have been hurt!”

“He swung at me! What was I supposed to do?”

“Is everyone okay?” Dean still had the phone in one hand, at the limit of the cord anchoring it to the wall. “Everyone is fine, no ambulance needed,” he said into the handset. He listened intently, then hung up. “They’ve got somebody down the block they think is the guy. I’ll be right back.”

Marian stood gaping at Liddy, then Eric’s reassuring voice carried across the floor. “It’s okay, everybody, calm down. Just a little pushing and shoving. Everything is okay.”

Do your job, Marian thought. She likewise began reassuring patrons, but she was aware that Liddy was stock-still, watching her.

Only when it seemed that patrons were settling back down did Marian make her way to where Liddy stood.

“I’m sorry I shouted,” she said in a low voice. “I was frightened.”

“Me, too,” Liddy whispered.

“You’re okay?”

“Yeah. It was all instinct. I just pushed him away from everybody, including me. What an asshole!”

“He didn’t like being told he couldn’t jerk off at the library.” Male and female uniformed officers strode through the doors.

Marian identified herself. Liddy admitted she was the person who had gotten into the shoving match.

The woman went to question the mother with the stroller, while the man talked to Liddy. “Did you want to press charges, ma’am?” Liddy looked dumbfounded. “He just pushed me—”

“He’s out there with a bloody nose swearing he’s going to sue you.”

Marian said quickly, “You should protect yourself. I’m sorry this happened, so sorry.”

“I’m from California,” Liddy said, as if it made all the difference.

“Yes, ma’am, but I agree with Ms. Pardoo. We can’t do much about assault on books, but assault on people we can.” Liddy gave Marian a helpless look. Marian gazed back, wanting to hug her tight. Such a stupid thing. Stupid man. Stupid porn-addicted idiot of a slime bag. “I think you should.”

“Okay,” Liddy said to the officer. “I’ll make a complaint. I mean, if that creep will do something like that with all these kids around he needs a reality check.” She shrugged.

“Why don’t you do the interview in the staff room,” Marian suggested. She led the way, then made tea for Liddy, who looked pale.

The officer accepted a glass of water, more to put Liddy at ease than anything else, Marian thought.

Dean and Eric were in a huddle with the rest of the staff over the mess of books, and Marian joined them with sorting and stacking.

“Thanks, Dean, for getting the guy out of here. It’s not your fault he lost it.”

Dean didn’t answer, but he gave her a grateful look.

Eric handed Marian a group of children’s books for the stack she was setting aside. “You were great. I didn’t know you could yell that loud. And you picked up that kid like he was a feather.”

“I have been known to haul forty-pound bags of dirt, you know.” She sighed to herself. The things she had done for love. Focus, she chided herself.

“Your friend is so butch,” Eric commented.

Marian found a weak smile at the thought of Liddy’s pink toenails and the impressive array of moisturizers, skin peels, hair treatments and perfumes she’d glimpsed in Liddy’s bathroom—was it only two days ago? “I’ll pass that on.”

They were just finishing with the books when Mary Jane arrived.

Dean must have called her, Marian thought. Her slacks and shirt were impeccable, but Marian caught a faint whiff of suntan lotion.

This was obviously not what Mary Jane had planned to do with her day.