The Kiss That Counted

by Karin Kallmaker

  "So am I," CJ said. She and Lucy had a lot in common, and if Lucy, who knew Karita better, thought she'd squash some of the joie de vivre out of Karita, then CJ would certainly do the same. She's not for you, remember? You have other plans. Sure, she mocked herself. Other plans that include thinking of this town as your home, thinking you even deserve a place to call home.

  The two teams took the field, eliciting spectator cheers. Most of the crowd was female, which CJ certainly didn't mind. The players looked young and fragile, that is, until the game started. Then their intensity and skill flashed like knives and the match was on.

  Lucy knew the sport and was happy to explain rules and the general defensive and offensive gambits. CJ was content to enjoy the spectacle. She caught on enough to know that whenever a player with the ball got close to the other team's goal it was time to stand up.

  She jumped to her feet with Lucy at just such a moment. "Is she getting in the lane?"

  "Yeah, but she's no Kylee Hanavan. The squad is still good, though. I don't know if we'll get another championship, but— run it down the lane, pass it—score!"

  The crowd went crazy. The Roadrunner women on the field ran around in circles, then dogpiled on each other. Women, rolling around on the ground, especially young and nubile ones, well, CJ thought, that was worth the price of admission.

  Karita stifled a yawn. She'd just checked the ears of her fortieth or fiftieth dog and felt stupid with exhaustion. It had been her fault that half the marmots had gotten out. Pam had been a good sport, and had helped her catch the terrified creatures that hadn't escaped from the compound via some hidden marmot-sized tunnel. She was pretty sure she'd hear their whistles and chirps in her sleep.

  Nann sank down on the waiting room sofa. Karita was pretty sure she was asleep before her head touched the back cushion.

  From the window facing the parking lot, Pam said, "Nann?"

  "Uhm." Nann was trying to open her eyes but was having no success.

  "Nann, there's a llama in the parking lot."

  "Just one?"

  "That I can see, yeah."

  "Damn. Ought to be two." Nann burrowed her head farther into the back of the sofa. "They're happier in pairs and packs. Herd animals."

  "Nann?" Karita joined Pam at the window. "Pam's not making it up."

  Karita led the way outside to join the tired-looking woman who had the llama on a lead. She hoped it was full-grown because it was an inch or two taller than she was.

  The llama reared back its white head to give her and Pam a haughty look, then it promptly spat.

  "I found it in my backyard, down the highway." The woman's gray hair was disheveled, and her khaki trousers were spattered with mud, but she looked pleased with herself. "My partner said I was nuts to try, but I got my dog's leash around it and it calmed right down, except for the spitting."

  Pam took the leash, saying, "I wish I'd paid more attention to the llamas when I was in Peru."

  Nann arrived, looking half-awake. "You were in Peru? So was I." To the Good Samaritan she said, "You did great, Wanda. Catching llamas is hard work, especially when they're isolated. Keep that Dalmatian of yours away from them—she could get kicked."

  "Sadie didn't want to play with something that big."

  "Smart dog. Well, if you see any others, call and we'll help get them under control. There aren't any llama farms near here, so I'll have to assume there's a distraught owner further down the canyon."

  With a tired nod, the woman said she'd keep an eye out. "The elk are on the move, by the way. I had two bulls and two herds of a dozen cows go through my yard. It's always like that when there's a fire. At least they're not bugling."

  "You can say that again." Karita kept a wary eye out for more spitting. "First time I heard an elk bugle was the middle of the night and I swear I thought it was the banshees."

  "Llamas don't have a rutting season," Nann said. She thumped the animal on the neck and Karita noticed that it was not spitting at Nann. Typical.

  She gave the llama a wide berth. To Wanda she said, "Do you need a lift home?"

  "I would appreciate that, actually. It's about a mile."

  Karita went inside for her keys while Nann and Pam walked along the gravel path that led to the back of the facility.

  Nann was excitedly answering Pam's questions. "You can hire a llama wrangler trail guide and a couple of llamas as pack animals for some of the more strenuous hikes. It's really fun. They're very adaptable."

  "Where were you in Peru?" Pam had one hand casually on the llama's flank, and looked totally at ease. "Before I went to law school I spent three months in Peru with Greenpeace."

  Karita lost sight of them and didn't think they even noticed she had left.

  By the time she got back from driving Wanda home—Wanda and her partner had lived in Kittredge for thirty years and Karita was welcome to borrow any tools she might need—Nann had the llama calmed and Pam finally looked as tired as Karita felt. To her immense relief, Howie had arrived, which meant Nann could finally go home.

  Karita gave Nann's brother a broad smile. "She got you here again, did she?"

  "I'm the only vet who works cheap enough for her."

  Howie's wife appeared from the back. "And she gets two for the price of one. All y'all should go home. I just heard on the CB they've got the fire. contained."

  Nann gave a weak hurrah, and promptly gathered up her jacket and keys. "Thank you both so much. I wouldn't have survived without you." She glanced briefly at Karita, then her gaze lingered on Pam. "I really appreciate it."

  "It was my pleasure." Pam's smile belied her exhausted tone. "It's too late this season, but maybe next spring we'll give a llama trek a try."

  Gran, Karita thought to herself, maybe it's not magic, maybe it's just wishful thinking and lots of luck, but whatever it is, it's a good thing. She couldn't help but notice how easy it was to spot the promising chemistry between Pam and Nann, and between Emily and Anita. Was she able to draw any such easy conclusions about her and CJ? Life's little ironies weren't all that funny.

  She walked out with Pam to their cars. It didn't seem possible that it was only just past nine.

  Pam was yawning again, and Karita asked, "Do you want some dessert or another bite to eat?"

  "I don't know why I'm so tired."

  "You just spent the last three hours getting up and down off the ground, and hauling fifty pound bags of feed. We're both going to be sore tomorrow."

  "We could get a drink at the Little Bear, up in Evergreen."

  "My place is just a half-mile that way." Karita pointed southeast. "I make very good coffee and I'm pretty sure I have a couple of chocolate chip cookies left. I think that will get you safely home far better than a drink."

  Pam nodded agreement. "You're right. One sip of alcohol and I'll be asleep."

  As she led the way toward home, Karita hoped that Pam hadn't misunderstood the invitation. She had gone with her first impulse, which was to offer whatever Pam needed so she didn't fall asleep on her forty or so minute drive home. Even though Pam and Nann had hit it off, technically, Pam was still Karita's date.

  As she pulled into the driveway she realized Pam was going to be her first visitor in quite a while, and she hadn't mowed the grass recently and the garage door opener still didn't work. She was relieved, however, to see that she had done the dishes that morning. But the weatherstripping project was spread out all over the living room.

  "I inherited this place from my grandmother. It's cute, but it needs work."

  "Great location, though." Pam looked a little bit nervous, as if she, too, had realized that they were two single women on a strange but official date, and now alone in a place where a bedroom was available.

  They continued chatting while Karita made coffee, and Pam asked about her parents. Cookies restored their energy, as did the coffee, and it was well after ten before Pam said, "I should be going or I'll get sleepy all over again. Thank you, this was perfect."

>   "It's the least I could do."

  "This was probably the most unusual date I've ever had, but it was fun." Pam paused at the door. "Can I be honest and say that I had hoped maybe the night would end differently?"

  Karita tried a joke. "You mean ending without llama spit on you?"

  "No, I meant like this." On tiptoe, she kissed Karita lightly, once, then kissed her again more firmly. "Something along those lines."

  "Oh, like that." Pam was no frog, and Karita had to admit her lips were tingling. The memory of CJ's lips—there was no resemblance between the sweet little buzz she felt right now and what she had felt with CJ. A few weeks ago she might have mistaken the buzz for more than it was.

  "Is it the llama spit that was distracting?" Pam smiled, though her eyes were serious. She searched Karita's expression and evidently found some reassurance there, because she went on, "I'd been thinking all week that it would be a kind of tidal wave sort of thing to kiss you."

  "Even without llama spit I'm not sure about the tidal wave. I like you, and maybe we just had to find out since we're both single." Karita paused. "Now we know."

  "Heck, I did wonder what it would be like to kiss someone eight inches taller than I am. I'll cross that off my To Do list." Pam stepped out onto the front porch and Karita followed her to her car. "Do you think Nann will need help tomorrow afternoon?"

  Karita did a little dance behind Pam's back, then composed herself before Pam could see her. "I definitely think she'll need help. And she really likes the carrot-ginger soup from the little store up the street."

  Pam settled into the driver's seat and gave a little wave. Karita waved back, all the while thinking that, for a date, it had turned out quite well. Karita couldn't help but wonder how Lucy and CJ were faring. Probably sans llama spit, for one thing.

  Gran had never taught her any charms to do harm. Elves didn't bring bad feelings into the world, she'd said. Nevertheless, Karita took a deep breath of the cool night air, cleared her mind and wished Lucy a date just as successful in every way as the one she'd just had with Pam.

  Pam beeped her horn and Karita waved one last time before going inside, all by herself.

  "That was great fun," CJ said as they reached the spots where they'd parked side-by-side. "Thank you so much for inviting me."

  Lucy leaned back on the trunk of her car. "No, thank you. I really wanted to get out and it was fun to show off my useless knowledge of the sport. Someday, I will be on Jeopardy and the categories will be soccer, soccer gear, women who play soccer, beer and Brandi Chastain. What is a black sports bra, Alex?"

  CJ laughed. "That'll make sense to me at some point, right?" The last few hours had been very pleasant—she'd thought of Daria only in passing and even less frequently of her mother and that very old pain.

  "So, CJ." Lucy abruptly looked serious. "This is that awkward point in our date when, since I did the asking, I have to wonder if I can kiss you."

  Taken aback, and undeniably charmed by Lucy's forthright approach, CJ could only say, "It's not about whether you can, but whether you want to, isn't it?"

  "Your opinion counts, of course. I'm just thinking it might be worth the possible slapping."

  "I'm not the slapping type." Oh, CJ thought, that wasn't exactly a no, was it?

  "Good. Here goes."

  Still grinning, Lucy pulled CJ close. Their lips brushed and CJ smiled into the kiss. Lucy's firm, athletic body was warm, and the arms that slipped around her waist were strong, protective even. A woman could do so much worse, she thought, but what she already knew was confirmed: definitely the wrong arms, the wrong body. She opened her eyes to find that Lucy's were open as well.

  Lucy laughed against her lips. "Okay, how about we stop now?"

  "You bet."

  Lucy put her hands in her pockets, but she didn't seem the least bit embarrassed. "So now we know. We get to be friends."

  CJ's smile faded and she said sincerely, crazily, like a woman who didn't have reasons to bolt for the nearest state line, "I'd like that."

  As always, however, she didn't get to stay crazy. Alone in her sparse apartment it was easier to recall the avaricious glint in Daria's eyes. There was no way she could keep a friend, not when she had other priorities. Not when at any moment her common sense might win and she'd gather up the money and the list and head for some place new.

  Showered and ready for bed, CJ ran her finger over the last three names as if they were written in Braille instead of the scrawling hand of a fourteen-year-old. She had no business thinking she could have a home and anything else that went with it. She forced herself to read the oldest newspaper clippings. "Minister, father of three, shot dead" was the headline she never wanted to see again, but it was in her life, forever.

  Chapter 12

  Karita could live with the fact that Susan House wasn't speaking to her. Yesterday and today there had been a distinct chill in the air, but at least there had been no outbursts at any of the staff. Maybe counseling would eventually help, but for the moment, Karita comforted herself with the knowledge that Pam had officially moved on, and that was all that mattered.

  Marty, on the other hand, was the same as always. She was starting to close up her desk and make her log for a hectic Tuesday when he stopped at her desk with a photo of his wife holding the adorable little Pomeranian. "All settled in her new home."

  "Did you give her a name, yet?"

  "Well, my daughter likes PomPom and I like Stays-Off-Furniture."

  Grinning, Karita shook her head. "That's a losing battle. Poms are so social. They love eye contact and that means up in your lap. What does Minna say?"

  "PomPom."

  "So, I'm thinking PomPom is the winner."

  Marty took back the photo. "You'd be right."

  "Look at it this way. It's smaller than a llama and it doesn't spit." Her phone chirped before she could explain and Marty headed for his office. She tapped the line and greeted the caller.

  "May I speak to Karita Hanssen, please?"

  "I'm Karita. How may I help you?" Even before she finished speaking, Karita knew who it was. The husky voice was unmistakable.

  "It's CJ. I'm working on this project for Emily and I have a question I thought you could answer."

  Karita was so glad Marty had left—her ears felt like hot irons against the side of her head. "I'll do my best."

  "I've been reading some of the findings of the research into domestic violence and different social events. Like you all said, there's a link between incidences of battering and sporting events. Football, auto racing, hockey, basketball, the works. Given that, would she be opposed to trying to get money out of people who might be big supporters of those sports?"

  "I don't know," Karita said slowly. "I'm not aware that any of the sports have even acknowledged the research as valid. They make the same kind of argument that alcohol manufacturers do—drinking doesn't cause drunk driving. People getting behind the wheel while drunk causes drunk driving."

  "I didn't mean the teams or the owners, but the big spender fans. Some of whom might rub shoulders with a persuasive woman like Marguerite Brownell."

  It sounded ambitious, and far beyond anything Emily had envisioned. "Are you talking about raising guilt money out of them?"

  CJ's voice warmed with humor. "I wouldn't call it that. I was just thinking that if we can get Brownell, or someone like her, to put on a bell, she could lead a herd to support the After the Big Game program for children and their mothers."

  "That has a nice ring to it." Karita was impressed. "It can't hurt to ask. I have a feeling you could persuade her to agree to anything."

  CJ was silent for a moment. Her voice wasn't as warm when she said, "I wouldn't want to persuade her to do anything against her principles."

  "Of course not. I didn't mean that you would. I was just… teasing."

  "It's okay. Thanks for listening. I was going to try this out on Emily tonight."

  "Make it before seven thirty—she's got a sor
t of coffee date thing."

  "Will do. Thanks again."

  Karita mulled over their exchange, but could glean nothing useful from it. Her day had brightened immeasurably however, knowing that she'd see CJ again tonight.

  CJ put down the handset, asking herself what she had hoped to gain by calling Karita at work. So she'd heard Karita's voice and knew she was alive. What had she expected? Karita to announce she was either dating or not dating that cute young lawyer?

  There was a commotion at the door to her office., and she heard a stifled giggle, then whispering. Annoyed, she called out, "What's up?"

  Burnett peeked around the jamb, glanced behind him, then gave CJ a huge smile. With a theatrical leap he filled the doorway, arms and legs spread. "Tah-duh!"

  "What? You got a commitment from Cray?"

  "No, silly woman! Even better!" He danced forward and she realized that half the office. was behind him. Tr e carried a paper plate with a coffee shop muffin in the middle, and a lit candle stuck in the middle of that. Jerry brought up the rear with a mixed expression of indulgence and…envy?

  "It's not my birthday," CJ said.

  "No, it's not." Julia opened the Metro section of The Denver Post to the inside back page.

  Burnett burst into, "Foooooooor, she's a jolly good fellow…" and the rest of the crowd joined in.

  "Is this my missing newspaper?" CJ looked down at the bottom inside corner where Julia was pointing. The headline read "Three-Year Sales Champ Named Denver's Woman Realtor of the Year."

  Next to the headline was the photograph of her from the company's Web site.

  The feeling that suffused her—hot and embarrassed and pleased, all mixed together—took her breath away. She wanted to laugh because the next thing she thought was that nothing so nice had happened to her ever before, with the exception of Karita kissing her.