She paused to look out at the rapidly greening hills of the Amador valley. In a few weeks it would be so lush with emerald hues that those who knew would say it looked like Ireland. New, fresh and clean—that was how she wanted to feel. She still wanted to be the woman Linda had seen.

The change of seasons was inescapable. Equally unavoidable was the growing certainty that Linda was never going to make contact with her. It had been over and done with the moment they’d left Tahiti.

Dear Linda,

Maybe you didn’t know when you left that you wouldn’t find me again. Maybe you did and you do this all the time. I don’t know what to believe about you. All I know is that being with you changed me. I’d be grateful if it didn’t hurt so much. I’d smile if I could stop crying.

Love, Marissa, too many days without you

P.S. If I knew where to send your T-shirt, I would.

Maybe Linda would show up some day and maybe she’d have an explanation. Marissa would listen, maturely forgive her and then calmly explain that she had moved on. Maybe she’d even say something about remaining friends before she danced away in the arms of some dashing, wonderful woman she’d gotten to know by dating in a normal way.

If that happened she wanted to look like the One That Got Away, the one Linda would regret forever. Now that’s a mature thought, she scolded again.

With a weary sigh, she picked up the remaining half of her Premium Energy Bar. Before she could bite into it the phone chirped with an outside call.

“Marissa, honey, I think it’s time we talked.”

There was nothing else to say besides, “I guess you’re right, Mom.” Caller ID was an investment that the business definitely needed to make, Marissa told herself.

“Would you like to have dinner this week?” Her mother’s tone was as modulated as always—no note of hopefulness or distress, even though Marissa didn’t know how she had really expected her mother to sound.

“How about tonight?” Might as well get it over with.

“I’m free tonight. Where would you like?”

It was unusual that her mother offered Marissa a choice. Her mother didn’t care for chain restaurants and was hard to please. Marissa always felt responsible if she suggested a place to eat and her mother didn’t like it for some reason. Well, maybe some place where there would be no shouting was still a good idea. “Why not the Club? It’ll be quiet tonight.”

Her mother agreed, they set the time and hung up with little more to say. Marissa chomped viciously into her energy bar, thinking the meal would likely blow her diet and in a single day she’d gain back every ounce she’d lost in two weeks.

She took the time after work to change and tidy her hair. A vest made of stitched together ties—a gift from her mother last birthday—over a white mock turtle was dressy enough. She had a new pair of slacks that were one size smaller than she used to wear and in a pleasing shade of turquoise. The color reminded her of the ocean, the sky . . . her own eyes reflected in Linda’s.