Idrina knew some things Cypress didn’t know: where to eat in the City; which piers to visit in the wee hours of the night and watch the waves and sunrise. How to love a woman like Cypress—something Cypress hadn’t known; that she could be loved, because she’d never let anyone close enough. Yet Idrina seemed to move right in and slay the dragons Cypress had spouting “don’t touch me,” simply by looking at her. Holding her. Finding little things for her, going to hear music with her. Walking with her. Kissing her scalp, rubbing her legs, making her breakfast, taking her picture. Being there when Cypress came into the room. Idrina knew some things Cypress didn’t know: loving is not always the same as having. And Idrina loved Cypress, but not to have . . . and Cypress didn’t know that.

But Ixchell knew something more than Idrina had imagined. Idrina’s lady was on her way back from Amsterdam. While Cypress was visiting her house, saying hello to Celine and company, and getting ready to go meet Idrina, Ixchell exclaimed,

“I just got a letter from Holland. Laura is gonna be home next week. I guess we’ll be seein’ more of ya then, Cypress. Make the next few days last. Idrina and Laura rarely come out, when they are both in town.” There was a vicious silence; then Celine murmured,

“I’m sure Idrina told you how she hates us ‘vampire girls,’ didn’t she? And how honest carin’ is all that’s important, and that humans shouldn’t use or abuse one another, especially not women, huh? And did she find you a flower and play the very wooden flute on Grant’s tomb . . .”

Ixchell was watching. From some part of herself she had no control over, she tried to patch the wounds.

“Oh, Celine. You know Cypress could see through that. She just wanted some attention while she was here. Cypress doesn’t need anybody so much she just can’t leave ’em. She never lets anyone into her.”

Cypress knew better than to flinch or cry out in the presence of dangerous animals. Celine and Ixchell were gnawing on her bones as she closed the front door.

Idrina knew something was wrong, but Cypress was a moody woman and kept a lot of secrets. So Idrina left her to herself, even though they were together for hours. Idrina played Kyoto recordings and read to Cypress from the Bhagavad-Gita after class. Cypress had left again for an imagined Shangri-la where she was safe from hurt and her own feelings. She wasn’t with Idrina, and Idrina knew that and didn’t like it. Idrina believed in being where you are when you’re there and someplace else, when you get there. So she confronted Cypress with an unfamiliar tone.

“I never promised ya anythin’. So what are ya doin’?”