It could end here, Marissa thought. Monsters and inner demons slain, the two lovers could find peace together, forever. It had happened time and again in all those movies she’d watched with her father. But it wasn’t that simple. Softly, she said, “You can let go of me now.”

When Linda’s arms eased from around her, Marissa stepped back. “I don’t know why I even picked here, of all places. The roses aren’t in bloom.”

“I did wonder, but California is full of wonders.” Linda smiled that cocky grin that Marissa remembered far too well.

“We can walk around the park, though.”

“It’s all ice at home. White and grey slush. The hills here are all green. That alone amazes me.”

“This is only the start.” Marissa led Linda along the footpath, trying not to imagine Linda’s hands exploring her. Her body was very different from the last time Linda had held it. “By spring the green will hurt your eyes.”

“I hope to see it. You look wonderful. You’re shaped all differently, but you still . . .”

“Still what?” Marissa didn’t risk a look at Linda’s face.

“You still fit. Your head under my chin and my arms around you.”

“Oh.” Marissa had forgotten how hard she had to crane her neck to look into Linda’s face. “What would have to happen for you to be here in the spring?”

Linda’s eyes said one thing while her mouth said, “A job, I hope. A kind of a tryout sort of thing, at the Sierra Club.”

Ignoring the melting message in Linda’s gaze, Marissa asked, “Putting all that ecotouring to use?”

“Yeah, actually. Herding groups of people, understanding habitats, cultural variations, all of that. I think, ultimately, I’d like to work on global eco-issues, and there are a number of foundations and funds where I could be truly useful but this will be a start.”

“I hope it works out.” Linda just gazed at her and Marissa could no longer pretend she didn’t understand. “I need time. I still have feelings for you—”

Linda made a small sound but Marissa held up her hand.

“I do have feelings for you but it’s a big jumble in my head right now. I understand why you did what you did. But it hurt.”

“I know.”

“I forgive you, I really do, Linda. Can we just leave it at that for now?” She wiped away an errant tear, then felt a drop on her face.

Linda peered up at the sky. “It seems we’re going to have some rain.”

Marissa turned back toward the parking lot. Within a few steps the drops turned into a proper downpour and she quickened her pace. “My car is closer,” she yelled, and broke into a flat out run.

She paid for her vanity halfway to the car, losing her footing in a bit of mud. The impractical shoes found no purchase and she sprawled, face down, across the path.

“Ah, hell,” she said, after she spit out a mouthful of mud.