Chapter Six. Most of Sunday, after helping the household clean up from the party, Beth sat in a beach chair out in the backyard among the flowers

Most of Sunday, after helping the household clean up from the party, Beth sat in a beach chair out in the backyard among the flowers, head back, face in the sun. She couldn’t keep her mind off Mary. It felt strange thinking about Mary’s energy, her body, and how she felt when they were dancing. Mary had come into her life not more than twenty-four hours before and it seemed crazy that she had now invaded so many brain cells.

“You and Mary got along famously, I see.”

Beth looked up with a start. Alder was standing over her with a tall glass of iced tea. Thanking her, Beth accepted the drink and replied, “She’s a wild woman.”

“That’s an understatement.” Alder pulled up another chair and sat down.

“I had a great time last night. I wasn’t expecting to, but you know how to put on a good party.” Beth thought of the music and the dancers. Remembering her last conversation with Alder, she ventured, “You said last night that it’s not ‘running away’ as long as people deal with why they leave.”

“That sounds like something I would say,” Alder conceded.

Beth paused over a sip of the refreshing tea. “It’s my ex. She cheated on me, then dumped me. I couldn’t stand the whole scene and how it was making me feel, so I left. But I’ve been thinking I need to talk to her. Maybe. Oh, I don’t know.”

“She made her decisions,” Alder said. “It’s not the two of you that need to talk. You need to talk to yourself.”

Beth grimaced. “I feel like I’ve been doing a lot of that.”

“But you’re stuck thinking the same things over and over?”

“Pretty much.”

“Then it’s time to ask yourself the questions you need to ask and trust that the answers will come, no matter where you are. Because the answers are out there.” Alder smiled. “Somewhere in your healthy mind.”

“Healthy?”

“Yes, it’s that state of being just after insanity.”

Beth let her fingers drift, making circles in the condensation on her glass. The pale liquid quivered, rippling in wavy rings. “Alder,” Beth wasn’t sure she should inquire, but went ahead, “is that Mary’s MO? I mean, being forward with women she hardly knows?”

Alder looked up to the sky and laughed. “Mary is the freest spirit I know. She loves life and let’s everyone know it. As for her modus operandi with women, why not ask her yourself?” There was a teasing twinkle in her eyes.

“Oh, sure. I want to be that obvious.” Beth pondered her first impressions of Mary. Seizing life like it was the lone, single buoy in a stormy sea. “It’s like she has no fears.”

“But she does,” Alder corrected.

“What fears could she possibly have?”

“That’s hers to tell.” Alder got up slowly, stretching her back as she went to get some trash bags. She returned a minute later with a mysterious smile on her face. “The door. It’s for you.”

As Beth sprang from her chair, Mary emerged from the house and waved as she advanced toward them. “I’ve come a-callin’.”

“Oh, brother.” Alder shook her head as she walked away.

Smiling over the mock repudiation, Beth turned to Mary. “You have, have you?”

“Yes, I have. I’d like to ask you something.”

“What?” At once, Beth felt a slight panic, afraid that Mary might ask her out on a date. Strangely, she was also afraid that she wouldn’t.

“I have both five- and ten-mile routes that I run, and I was wondering if you’d like to train with me for the race. It helps me when I run with other people. Takes my mind off the running.”

Beth hesitated. Running alone was therapeutic for her. Having a running partner hadn’t even been a slight notion. But then again, Mary’s route would already be laid out and she wouldn’t get lost or find herself in a less-than-desirable neighborhood. She had briefly considered signing up for the official San Francisco Marathon training program or one of the intensive boot camps, but she didn’t have endless time to spend. All she needed was to be fit enough to complete the race with an average time. Perhaps running with a partner would help her motivation level.

“I’d like that,” she finally said.

“Great. I’m going out later this afternoon, say five o’clock. Care to start then?”

“No time like the present. Where shall I meet you?”

“We can start from here. Given that the race is in two weeks, I imagine you’re running some combinations.”

Mary nodded. “Alternating running and resting, yes. Three, six, and then nine or ten miles this week.”

“And an easy week leading up to the race?”

Beth nodded. “Two or three miles, then rest a day, like that.”

“Me, too. We’re very close in our training schedules. It’s perfect, then. I’ll come by at five, okay?”

“I’ll be here.” Beth indicated the chair Alder had vacated. “Want to hang out for a while?”

She tried not to be disappointed when Mary shook her head and said she had things to do. Watching her saunter back toward the house, Beth did as Alder had suggested and asked herself a question, the one she’d been trying to avoid ever since she first set eyes on Mary Walston.

Am I going to sleep with this woman?

“Man, I’m feeling it in my calves,” Beth said when they were on their third mile.

“Need to stop? We can take a shortcut and get back to the Coop in another mile or so.”

“Let’s do that. We can either take a rest day tomorrow or go just a few.”

The early evening was mildly foggy and crisp, filling Beth’s lungs with fresh, salty air. They’d run through the Castro and through part of Golden Gate Park and were on their way back.

“Where do you run in L.A.?” Mary asked when they began to pick up speed again.

“Through the neighborhoods in Long Beach, where I live.”

“Do you like living there?”

Beth was not quite sure any more. “I did.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“My ex lives there.”

“Ah, the woman,” Mary noted. “The reason you had to leave.”

“Yes. We broke up a few months ago and it hasn’t been easy.” Beth wiped some sweat from her brow. “In a city as big as L.A., if I tried to find her, I never would. But when I’d rather not see her, she’s at the gas station, or the grocery store, or the dry cleaners. Without fail.”

“Why is that?” Mary mused as they skirted a couple and their dog.

“The second law of thermodynamics, I suppose.”

Mary laughed. “Hey, I just put out fires. What the hell does that mean?”

“All organization tends toward disorganization.”

They ran a half a block further before Mary said, “You mean, when you want a relationship, it gets screwed up. Then, when you want someone to be out of your life, they’re always around?”

“Damn skippy.”

“How many laws of thermodynamics are there?” Mary asked.

“Three, I think.”

“And you know this how?”

“Lots of time on my hands and too many encyclopedias lying around when I was a kid.” Beth hoped she wasn’t making herself sound boring from birth.

“No tree houses and mud pies?”

“Not in my family. Too ghastly for a little girl, as my mother would say.”

“Encyclopedias and thermodynamic laws sound pretty ghastly to me.”

“Hey, that’s my childhood you’re talking about.” Beth playfully pushed Mary enough to cause her to stagger, and then charged ahead.

A stinging pain shot through her left calf muscle but she puckishly dashed ahead. Mary chased after her and caught up to her within a block. Throwing her arms around Beth, she swung her around. The momentum of their speed caused them to pirouette twice and they stumbled to a stop, winded and laughing raucously.

“Don’t tell me you were a bookworm and now you’re sensitive about it,” Mary gasped, still wrapped around her.

The heat from her body made Beth’s knees weaken and she felt a flush rise from her chest to her hairline. Standing that close, she could see little speckles of brown in Mary’s eyes and feel Mary’s warm breath as she puffed from the recent exertion. Mary’s smile was as inviting as it was sultry. Beth could have kissed her right then, just like in the bathroom at the party.

Determined not to succumb, she said, “I can’t help it that my mom was a curmudgeon.” She moved away from Mary. “Anyway, better smart than dirty.”

“I think you’ve got that backward.”

“Maybe.” But Beth thought Mary might be right. She just didn’t want to think about that now, not with Mary looking so incredibly sexy. Her initial thoughts about Mary as vainly cavalier were being challenged. She’s still trouble, she told herself and looked at her watch. “We have another two miles to go.”

“Okay. But no more sprints. I’m almost out of gas here.”

“Agreed.”

They slowed their pace a little on a steep downhill slope.

“How did you get into the real estate business?” Mary asked.

“After college I went to work for a grocery store,” Beth replied. “Just to pay the bills. I knew I’d never enjoy corporate America, so I decided to take advantage of the booming real estate market so I could work for myself and not deal with water cooler politics. I got licensed in appraising houses.”

“Did it work out the way you imagined?”

“Almost. I now have a staff of three. Two appraisers and a secretary who manages the office, so in a way, I’ve created my own little corporation. Except that I refuse to order a water cooler.”

They made their final turn and finished their run in front of the Coop. Beth was tired, but the sights along the way and the conversation she’d enjoyed with Mary had made the run an entirely different experience. She felt energized and clearheaded and was surprised at how loose her shoulders were. Months of tension seemed to have drained out through her fingertips as she ran.

She groaned through her first stretches. “I’m going to have to soak my calves tonight.”

“I know.” Mary laughed. “When I first moved here, I thought I’d have to become a mountain goat to navigate these hills. They can be brutal.”

She reached down to touch her toes. Her sinewy thighs glistened with sweat from her recent exertion, and Beth was mesmerized at the alluring droplets that followed the curves of her quadriceps.

“What? Do I have gum on my ass?”

Beth jolted out of her reverie to find Mary looking at her from her bent-over position. “I was just… staring off into space.”

Mary wasn’t taken in by the feeble explanation. “You were looking at my ass.”

“I was not.”

“You were.”

Beth sighed. “I was.”

Mary chuckled as Beth started toward the front steps. She’d only taken a few paces when her heel struck the ground and her leg muscles refused to function. She cried out in pain.

“What’s the matter?” Mary leaned over toward her but Beth twisted away.

“Leg. Cramp,” was all she could get out.

Mary knelt down. Taking Beth’s leg, she lifted it onto her knee. As Beth writhed and groaned in agony, Mary dug her thumbs into Beth’s calf muscle.

“Breathe. As deeply as you can.” She continued to work out the knot as Beth gasped out deep breaths between cries and curses. “You sound like my uncle’s fifty-seven Buick right before it finally broke down for good.”

“Not funny.” Somewhere in the back of her brain, Beth knew she should be seriously considering the fact that Mary was touching her, let alone whether she should even be touching her, but she was in too much pain to do anything but whimper.

She closed her eyes and focused on the massage, willing her calf to relax. Knowing that it was Mary’s hands that worked her muscle certainly made the spasm feel better, but she was also self-consciously aware that her face had been twisted up into what must be a pretty hideous expression. Under different circumstances, she might lay her head back and smile a satisfied smile. But under different circumstances, would she let Mary massage her leg?

Finally, the kneading did the trick and the pain subsided. Beth blew out a mouthful of air. Now that she was almost free of the cramp, she took a guilty moment to just feel Mary’s hands. They were strong and warm, and the slow rhythm of her strokes made Beth close her eyes and drift with the feeling. She knew she should tell Mary that she’d eliminated the cramp, but her hands felt so good.

“It’s feeling okay now,” she said reluctantly. “Thank you, Mary.”

When Mary shifted to move Beth’s leg off her knee, Beth stopped her, covering Mary’s hand with her own. As they locked eyes, Beth knew Mary was probably wondering what this gesture meant. She wasn’t even sure herself, since she hadn’t known that she was going to do it until her hand closed over Mary’s. But it had seemed as natural and automatic as hugging one’s arms around one’s body upon walking into a freezing wind.

What should she tell her? What was the truth? Did she want Mary to get going? Yes. Was she still apprehensive about her? Another yes. She squeezed the hands that felt so good around her leg.

“That really helped,” she said, convinced that the feeling of falling into Mary’s green eyes was dangerous.

She released Mary’s hand and they stepped back from each other. Mary gave her a brief, uncertain look then adopted an impersonal tone. “Were you hydrated, Beth?”

“I was. I think I’m just not used to the hills.”

“Well, I don’t have to tell you to make sure you continue to hydrate and get some potassium in you.” Mary seemed intent on some moss near her shoe, scuffing it with her toe. “Thank you for the run. Let me know if you’d like to go again tomorrow.” She paused. “You know, your calves and all.”

“I need to, actually, regardless of what my calves might complain about.”

“I’m off for the next few days,” Mary said. “We should probably only do a couple of miles tomorrow.”

“Great.” Beth wanted to ask Mary in but she felt awkward, and by the time she found the right words, Mary had already taken off.

Watching her jog slowly down the street, Beth hoped she didn’t turn around and catch her staring. She had a bad feeling her face had pathetic lust written all over it. When Mary glanced back over her shoulder, Beth quickly ducked inside the door, mumbling, “Damn.”

“Bad run?” Alder was sitting on the couch in the front room reading a magazine.

“No. It was great.”

“And that’s cause to swear?”

Beth plopped down in an easy chair. “Yeah.”

Alder closed the magazine and got up. “Follow me.”

They adjourned to the kitchen. Beth sat at the table while Alder turned on the coffee pot.

“So tell me about the bad movie,” Alder said.

“What?”

“I have a feeling it’s related to your swearing. You said at the party that your home situation was like a bad movie and that you’d only talk about it over coffee.”

“Fair enough.” Beth decided she was ready for this, and even if she wasn’t, it would probably help to tell someone a few of the details. “It’s a fairly simple story. We moved in together after dating for five months. For a while it worked, then I found out that she’d been having an affair with a woman she worked with. That had been going on for a while. And to make matters worse, she dumped me.”

Alder poured their coffee and sat down, pushing a mug toward Beth. “How’d that come about?”

Beth shook her head. “I was an idiot. I ranted and raved about the affair. My ex said she had to think about things, which meant she wanted time to decide between me and the other woman.”

“And?”

Beth took a long swallow of java. “I told her to think about it somewhere else. And she did.”

“At the other woman’s house?”

“Yup.” Beth sighed heavily. “She sent me a text message a week later telling me that I was yesterday’s news.”

“And now you’re kicking yourself for being with her and for getting hurt.”

“Of course.” Beth dropped her head, running her hands through her hair. “I thought it couldn’t happen. I’m not a kid. She was perfect for me, and I thought I was a reasonable judge of character. It’s hard when you can’t trust your own judgment anymore.”

“Maybe you moved in together too quickly. Maybe you never got to really know her the way you should have.”

“I’d say that’s a very astute conjecture.”

“But it’s now in your past,” Alder said. “And I have faith that you’ve learned from it.”

“I will as soon as I can get her out of my head.”

“So, you’re hurt because she cheated on you. But you still want her?”

“I don’t know. She just threw away three years. When I think about that, I want to call her because that time mattered. But knowing she lied to me for six months while she slept with someone else makes me sick.”

“She couldn’t have been that perfect.”

The slam of a door upstairs followed by an uproarious squeal silenced Alder. Gina came running into the kitchen being chased by Diane, who was clutching a handful of ice. Alder ignored them, taking a moment to sip her coffee. As they lunged at each other around the table, Beth hunkered down, attempting to stay out of the line of fire.

“If I promise to give you a backrub, will you stop with the ice?” Gina’s eyes darted toward the door.

“Striking bargains is the sign of a guilty person.” Diane held the ice up higher.

“Take it outside, lovebirds,” Alder said blandly.

Gina bolted for the door, Diane on her heels.

“There will now be three hours of silence,” Alder said.

Just then, Keith’s high-pitched holler pierced melodically through the heavy air. He was headed toward the kitchen.

Alder yelled, “What’d you buy for dinner?”

“Nothing.” He appeared from around the corner. “Take me to dinner?”

“Like we’re your slave girls,” Alder said. “Go pound sand.”

“Oh come on, Alder. My car’s broken and I’m feeling like Mexican tonight. Would someone give me a ride? Please?”

“That’s more like it, young man.” She got up and patted Beth on the shoulder. “Don’t look so glum. Remember, you’re out of that relationship.” She grabbed her keys. “Care to come along?”

Beth declined with a smile. After they’d traipsed off, she stared out the kitchen window, watching the sun go down. A strong wind blew the trees in the backyard, rattling the leaves and making the branches creak. Vignettes of her life with Stephanie pitched back and forth, much like the trees, and Beth resolutely endured the assault. This time, however, the usual tears didn’t come. She seemed to be detached, looking back from a safe distance. The view offered greater clarity and she saw something she’d never seen before.

Even before the fighting and the cheating, Stephanie didn’t love her.