Read Online Warming Trend by Karin Kallmaker - Free Book Online Page A

didn’t. I said that I hadn’t slept with her which is what you meant by asking if I had studied under her.”
    “But you know her.”
    “She was my doctoral advisor.”
    “Cool. Why couldn’t you just say so? Did you have a thing for her?”
    “I admired her, but that’s as far as it went.” She dipped a washcloth into the bathtub, and drenched her neck in cold water. It helped with the heat a little.
    Lisa glanced up from the photo. “You had a crush on her.”
    “Maybe at first. Everybody does, even the guys and they know she’s gay.” Ani tried for a nonchalant shrug.
    “So? Oh…”
    “Oh, what?”
    “It’s not her. It’s the other woman. Eve Cambra. Who is short but very cute, I might add.”
    Hearing someone else say Eve’s name sent a sharp jolt through Ani’s chest. All she could do was nod.
    “You left because you broke her heart.”
    “I broke everybody’s heart, including my own. I really don’t want to talk about it.”
    “You don’t have to.” Lisa peered more closely at the photograph. “Were you two together, or just dating, or what?”
    “I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”
    “You’re not talking about it, I am.”
    “None of it matters. They’ve moved on and Monica Tyndell is exactly the kind of woman that Eve deserves.”
    Lisa gave her another of those quick glances that Ani was beginning to suspect were sharper than lasers. “You loved her to distraction, you made some kind of mistake, so you’re giving up on that?”
    “I gave up three years ago.”
    “You’re still giving up. Some Russian you are. Sounds like you didn’t plan ahead for something. I don’t know what you think you did, but it couldn’t have been that bad. You don’t strike me as a quitter.”
    “I didn’t quit. You have no idea what academics are like when…I had to leave.” Ani ground her teeth. “Remember the part where I said I didn’t want to talk about it?”
    “Vaguely.” Lisa put down the paper. “So are you like an identity thief, a dope dealer, or did you slap her around a little, or what?”
    “It was nothing like that. And if I had any honor, I’d go back for my crap that’s probably still sitting in her garage. I’d get my stuff and my dog and go live in Kaktovik.” At Lisa’s arched eyebrow, she added sourly, “Think of the worst freakin’ cold armpit of the known universe and that’s a step up from Kaktovik.”
    “Kak-whatever. I mean, come on.” She rested her head on her arms along the side of the tub. “You broke her heart, and she’s taking care of your dog and still has your stuff in her garage? How lesbian is that?”
    Put that way, it sounded like ordinary dyke drama, but there was so much more to it. Lisa hadn’t a clue what it felt like to have everyone you’d ever respected whispering behind your back, and the people who didn’t like you saying it to your face, and to the newspaper and on blogs. She didn’t understand what it felt like to know people were taking their business away from your girlfriend because of something you’d done. “Well, I assume she has everything. She’s that kind of person. Way too good for me.”
    “That doesn’t have to be true, you know. You can do the honorable thing.”
    Ani watched as Lisa dipped under the cold water. When she surfaced, Ani asked, “What are you talking about?”

    * * *

    There was a reason Ani didn’t let people into her life, certainly not people like Lisa, who looked at things like pork rinds and declared them health food and somehow made that sound reasonable. People who heard yes no matter how many times you shouted no . Women like Lisa, whose frustrating leaps of indirect logic somehow made sense at seven a.m. after a mostly sleepless night, while standing in front of an airline ticket counter. They still made sense during the process of removing sandals in the security line, and buying really bad coffee and breakfast bagels. It had all made sense until they reached cruising