One Degree of Separation

by Karin Kallmaker

  “Fuck and fuck it, that’s enough of that.” Liddy set the laptop to one side before she gave into the temptation to hurl it against a wall.

  No more thinking about Robyn. She was done with that.

  “A dojo, that’s what you need. Find a class, a sparring partner. Though I pity my partner in this mood.”

  She was halfway through her shower when she realized she was talking to herself. Okay, she needed to get out.

  The Golden Dragon Martial Arts Academy looked prosperous enough. Although the mats and equipment had a well-used look, none of them were threadbare, which was encouraging. The only people in martial arts who made real money at it were in the movies, but good instructors, in her experience, had no trouble keeping enough students to provide the basic necessities.

  “I’m only here for the summer, and I’m worried I’ll get out of shape,” she concluded, after stating her current rank and past studies for the benefit of the man seated at the small desk.

  It wasn’t until the white-clad instructor stood up that she saw the red and black belt he wore. She had not expected to find someone of that rank in the middle of nowhere. What next, a bona fide red belt in Iowa fucking City? She’d yet to meet one in Berkeley.

  Sensei Kerry looked her up and down. “Did you want to stay in shape or begin your progress from brown to black?”

  “Stay in shape,” Liddy admitted. “I’m not certain it’s in the cards for me to be a black belt.”

  He smiled in the way of every sensei she had ever met, male or female. “It’s not a matter of chance—”

  “Chance is an excuse for lack of focus, I know.” She clapped a hand over her mouth, then bowed out of habit. “I apologize, sensei.” He smiled and bowed slightly to accept her apology. “There is a class for purple and brown on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays at seven.”

  “Do you teach it?”

  “There are also two assistants.”

  Remembering her manners, she asked meekly, “Would you do me the honor of allowing me to join your class?” Again, the man disappeared into the mystery of a sensei. He seemed to be in his mid-thirties—only ten years her senior at most—but all senseis specialized in that remote air of a sage. “A brief test will be necessary.”

  “I have my gi, sensei, so at your convenience, I am ready.” She felt a part of herself relax. This, at least, was familiar.

  “Five minutes,” he said, pointing to one of the square mats, then he left her to change and warm up.

  She’d tried to work out after Robyn left, but Robyn had taken a few classes with her, leaving that musky smell impossibly in the changing room. She knew it was all in her head that she could still smell it, but she had not been able to shake it. It had been two months since she’d been to her classes. Another thing in her life she hadn’t finished. Another thing that Robyn had managed to take away.

  Well, at least she could stay in shape here. Her gi was a little more snug around the waist than it had been. Who would have thought Iowa City had a world-class anything besides drunken frat boys to offer?

  Ignoring the few other students who were practicing with targets and pads, she ran through a few forms, then went to the mat the sensei had indicated, and knelt with her back to the center. Deep, calming breathing was easier than it had been in months.

  Permission to spar came promptly and she squared off, aware that she was, indeed, being tested. It quickly became apparent that Sensei Kerry’s belt was not a fake. His stance and blocking invited her to throw punches and level kicks at him that were well within her skills.

  As her strength and ingenuity waned, his mastery became more apparent. She was tested to her limit to parry his carefully conceived attacks.

  She was pouring sweat after only a few minutes had elapsed. But she felt alive. She found herself grinning as she rolled off the floor from evading a kick and had the satisfaction of a returned smile from the sensei.

  “You’ve had a good teacher,” he acknowledged.

  “You honor a humble student.” She gasped for breath and added belatedly, “Sensei.”

  “I would enjoy learning from you,” he replied, then dropped his guard to invite a series of jabs.

  The feeling of intense focus was welcome. She loved karate and she was not going to let Robyn fucking Vaughn take it away. When the sensei invited another round of punches she twirled into an unexpected kick. She wasn’t surprised when he blocked her, but she successfully evaded his counterpunch.

  “Enough,” he declared. They bowed respectfully to each other, and Liddy stripped off her sparring gloves. “Whatever it was that motivated you at the last, that is what you will need more of to move up to black belt. But I believe you can do it.”

  “I wish I was going to be here long enough, sensei.” To her surprise she felt a small amount of regret that the end of July would arrive too soon when it came to the Golden Dragon.

  “We will see what you can do while you are with us.” He bowed again and became a businessman, proffering forms and requesting a credit card.

  Back in the Hummer, Liddy grinned and turned up the radio. A tuneful song she didn’t know explained that it took a little bit of this and a little bit of that. The sky was richly blue and Iowa fucking City wasn’t so small after all.

  She cruised into the Wal-Mart lot and shoehorned the Hummer into a parking space under the only trees. Sometime later she maneuvered her cart full of household essentials into what seemed to be the shortest line. As she reached for a tin of Altoids she recognized the voice of that stalker, Ellie. Swear to freakin’ god, this town was tiny.

  “You must be miserable, honey,” she was saying. There was an indistinguishable reply. “They’re your best friends. I don’t know that many single girls who are so tight with a couple without, well, being very tight with the couple, if you know what I mean.”

  “I did not have that kind of relationship with them!” Liddy wanted in the worst way to turn her head and figure out who Ellie was talking to. It was a rather interesting conversation. But she was afraid if she did, Ellie would see her.

  “I don’t think you did, of course. They define monogamy. Besides, you’re practically virginal.” Ellie made the other woman’s chaste sex life sound like a bad thing.

  “Don’t, El. Not today. I don’t think I can be jollied into a better mood.”

  The librarian, Liddy thought. Okay, Iowa City must be small if you trip over the town librarian everywhere you turn. She risked a peek; they were behind her and another line over. With luck, she would get out unseen.

  “When Sandy and I split, you were the one who told me that life is change.”

  Marian’s voice was low and harder to hear. “I’m sorry I was cruel. That couldn’t have been comforting.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  Liddy loaded her items onto the belt and dug in her shorts pocket for her billfold.

  “I feel like I got hit by an anchor, Ellie. I just didn’t see this coming.” Marian sounded slightly choked and definitely sad.

  Ellie’s tone softened. “It wasn’t comforting, but it was true. Sandy changed and so did I. Hemma and Amy are setting out to make some big changes. Our Friday evening meet isn’t going to be the same.”

  “I don’t change. Why does everyone else?” Making small talk with the cashier left Liddy without the concentration necessary to continue eavesdropping. She forgot about the Days of Our Dykes conversation as she stopped to buy a cold soda, then rolled her cart toward her car. About halfway there she realized Marian and Ellie were off to her left. Marian gave Ellie a cheerless parting wave, then veered in Liddy’s general direction.

  Picking up her pace, Liddy reached the Hummer quickly and dropped her bags in the back. She heard Marian’s bags rustle and realized Marian must belong to either the forest green Beetle to the right of her or the platinum Malibu to the left, all crowded into the meager shade. She didn’t know if she wanted Marian to recognize her or not. Fate took a hand when Marian stopped at the Beetle and had
no reason to notice Liddy on the far side of the Hummer.

  Liddy had her door open when Marian snapped, “Damn it all!” She stole a glance through the opposite window and saw Marian patting her pockets more and more frantically.

  “Shit. Oh ... shit. Ellie has them. For crying out loud, what else?” Marian dropped the two bags she was carrying. “Not that I could even get in my fucking car with this gas-sucking monstrosity parked next to it!”

  Then Marian kicked the Hummer’s rear bumper.

  Liddy was so surprised she just stood there, blinking. It wasn’t as if Marian could hurt it. Marian kicked it again.

  “Excuse me, but could you not do that—”

  “Oh, hell!” They stared at each other, then Marian said, “I’m sorry. I can’t get in my car.”

  Liddy saw that it was the truth. Damned Hummer. She’d been so jazzed from her workout that she hadn’t realized she was inches from the Beetle. “I’m sorry, too. I did park too close.”

  “My friend has my keys. She’s halfway home now.”

  “Can you call her on her cell? You could use mine if you need to.” She wondered if Marian remembered their earlier meetings.

  Abruptly, it mattered that she did.

  “She has a pathology about cell phones and brain tumors.” Liddy shrugged. “I’m sorry about your keys. Are you having a bad day?”

  Marian nodded.

  Liddy had only enough time to think, “This is what I get for talking to people, swear to freakin’ god,” before two enormous tears spilled down Marian’s face.

  It was incredibly awkward, standing next to someone who was silently sobbing. Excusing herself would be heartless. Yet what could she do?

  After a minute she dug in her pocket for a tissue. “Here. And I’ll take you to your friend’s house for your keys. I’m not late for anything.”

  Marian covered her eyes with the tissue, and a small noise that belied the depth of her distress escaped her. It was the sound of a hurt dove.

  Liddy felt empathetic tears start in her eyes. Hell, there was one thing she could do.

  Marian didn’t resist her head being pulled to Liddy’s shoulder.

  Her arms circled Liddy’s waist in complete surrender to human comfort.

  “It’ll be okay. Eventually,” Liddy whispered. She wished she weren’t quite so sticky from her workout. She had to add “eventually” because this was how she’d cried over Robyn. She’d cried and cried while Mom told her it would be okay, and then she’d cried because it pissed her off that her mother didn’t understand that it would never be okay.

  It was a few minutes before Marian stepped back abruptly, wiping her face. “I’m sorry—you must think me a fool.”

  “No, really. I’ve had to cry like that. I’ll take you to your friend’s for the keys.”

  Marian nodded and gathered her bags.

  “You’ll have to climb in through my door. I’m sorry I blocked you.”

  All Marian said, when Liddy activated the slide out step was,

  “How useful.”

  “It’s that or dislocate a shoulder climbing in.” Very quietly, Marian replied, “Dislocating a shoulder is not something I want to repeat, thank you.”

  Liddy would have asked more about that, but Marian turned her face to the window.

  After they were backed out of the parking space, Marian said,

  “She’s in the Longfellow area.”

  “You’ll have to point me the right way.”

  “I’m sorry. Head toward the university.”

  “That I can do. I have found even when I’m not looking for it, I always end up at the university.”

  “You could actually drop me at work. That’s where I was going next. Ellie will drop off my keys if I leave her a message. I’m going to see her this evening, regardless.”

  Marian had presumed Liddy knew where her work was, so she obviously remembered her. Liddy felt oddly relieved. “Are you sure?”

  Marian nodded. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing.”

  “It’s a bad habit.”

  Liddy turned toward the river and then stole a glance at her passenger. “Did you want to stop somewhere to tidy up?”

  “Do I need to? Shit, I’m sorry. Of course I do. I look like a circus clown after I cry.”

  “That’s a little harsh,” Liddy offered, though the comment was somewhat true. Marian’s eyes were puffy and red, and she had telltale blotches of pink across her forehead and cheeks. She looked unhappy, deeply unhappy. “You could dash into the Java House. Coffee and a face wash.”

  Marian shrugged and Liddy had no idea what to make of that.

  “Half the people I know hang out there, though it is early for the Friday meet.”

  “Then where? Oh—look. I live a few blocks up on North Dodge, so it’s no bother.”

  “I couldn’t impose.”

  “Why not?”

  Marian shrugged. “Thank you, then.”

  Liddy turned toward the house, then realized her offer meant she’d have to repark the Hummer in the driveway twice. She gritted her teeth as she waited for traffic to clear before risking the Scylla and Charybdis guarding the narrow entrance.

  “Does it fit in the drive?”

  “It would be easier without those posts.”

  “Why don’t you park in the back?”

  For a long minute, Liddy was torn between not wanting to appear incredibly stupid because she had no idea what the hell Marian was talking about, and a fervent desire to learn exactly what Marian meant. Practicality won. “There’s a, uh, back parking space?”

  “Didn’t they tell you? A friend of mine dated the old owner, Marsha, who lives on Brookside now with her partner, Julie. Julie Y., not Julie S. Go up to the next street and turn left.”

  Liddy followed the instructions, then turned into the narrow alley that ran between the backyards of the houses. “I drove down here once, but there’s no gate. Climbing the fence wasn’t all that appealing, and I thought I might get towed.”

  “The realtor should have showed you. Marsha had a party and everyone came in the back way because Dodge is so busy.” Liddy pulled into the cleared area behind her house. “This is my parking space?”

  “Sure. Usually there’s room for two cars, but this one is, um, a bit large.”

  “Yeah, I know. It’s a guilt gift from my biological father, heap big mountain macho man.”

  Marian nodded as if that made perfect sense to her. “The gate’s buried under all that ivy. No wonder you didn’t see it.”

  “Ah, the Hidden Gate. Sounds positively Jane Eyre.” Using bare hands, they stripped away a lot of the overgrowth.

  Sure enough, there was a lovely gate. Now she realized that if she’d been out in the backyard she’d have seen the stepping stones embed-ded in the too-tall grass. Sheesh.

  “Thank you so much—I was thinking of selling the damned car.”

  “Everything works out for a reason.” Marian’s heavy sigh was at odds with her philosophical tone.

  “Your friend has your keys so I can find out about this gate? The universe can be twisted.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  They tromped in the back door and Liddy remembered her manners. “Do you have time for some tea or coffee?”

  “I don’t, actually, but thank you.” Marian headed unerringly in the direction of the bathroom. It was odd to think of her being familiar with a house Liddy didn’t yet feel comfortable in.

  Liddy put away her purchases while she waited. Marian returned quickly, her face a uniform well-scrubbed pink. Liddy offered her the bottle of Murine she’d fished out of her still unpacked toiletries bag.

  “It’s bad for your eyes, but it’s a special occasion.”

  Marian hesitated, then took the bottle. She carefully squeezed in the drops and wiped her cheek. “I’m sorry to be such a bother.”

  “It really is a bad habit.”

  Marian cocked her head slightly. “Oh, ye
ah. It is. I’m sorry, I’ll ... Forget it.”

  Relieved to see the glimmer of a smile, Liddy shepherded Marian back to the car. She realized then that the passenger-side steps didn’t seem as helpful as the ones on the driver’s side, and Marian had trouble reaching the overhead grab bar. She nearly helped, then thought she hardly knew Marian well enough for even a dispassionate hand on the backside.

  They were halfway to the library when Marian broke the silence.

  “I’m not usually like this, just so you know. Rough day, that’s all.”

  “Friends’ moving can be traumatic.”

  Marian gave her a surprised look and Liddy flushed.

  “Sorry, I overheard you in the store. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” The lie, she was sure, had tinted her ears red.

  “I was worried you were a mind reader, that’s all.” Marian sighed.

  “It’s hard not to have everyone know your business. It was a big adjustment when I first moved here.”

  “Where are you from originally?”

  “Chicago. You?”

  “San Bernardino, but I grew up in Berkeley.” Marian nodded as if she understood the vast difference, but somehow Liddy doubted it. “You’ll get used to the close-knit com-munity. You lose some privacy, but there are compensations.”

  “I’m only here for a research project. Until end of July.”

  “Oh. Weatherwise it’s not the best time to see I.C.”

  “I can’t imagine the dead of January being much better.”

  “No, you’re right. April and September are lovely. The colors are beautiful.”

  Liddy pulled into the loading zone at the library. Marian gathered her bags and opened the door.

  “I really appreciate this. If I can head off the posse I will.”

  Liddy laughed. “Okay, we’d be more than even. I’m not in the market. And I don’t want to be in the market.”