One Degree of Separation.

Karin Kallmaker.

If it had been meant to be a hug, it failed completely. Their mouths met hungrily and Marian pulled Liddy's hips against her own. Their kiss was immediate union, lips, tongues, moans, air, mingling instantly, as if they had never stopped making love to each other.

Liddy's cheeks were quickly wet with rain from Marian's hair.

Marian felt the drops against her hands as she cupped Liddy's face and kissed her again, and again, tasting her mouth. She rubbed her lips against Liddy's and heard, for the first time in years, her name whispered in wonder.

She licked the line of Liddy's jaw, then nipped her earlobe. And felt Liddy's body stiffen in her arms, then arch in a curve of offering.

For Maria, who found my future in the card catalogs at Berkeley Main Fourteen and Fortunately no longer a Felony This book would not be possible-indeed, information would not be ours for the asking-if not for the pa.s.sion of librarians in preserving our freedom to read.

My eternal grat.i.tude goes to MJ Lowe for her generous, humorous and tireless attempts to teach me the intricate necessities of library sciences and the tantalizing mysteries of information arts.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR.

Karin Kallmaker admits that her first crush on a woman was the local librarian. Just remembering the pencil through the loose, attractive bun makes her warm. She was perhaps more permanently marked by watching that same librarian, some years later, argue respectfully but pa.s.sionately with a man who had thrown away a book he'd checked out, claiming it was obscene.

Maybe it was the librarian's influence, but for whatever reason, at the age of 16 Karin fell into the arms of her first and only sweetheart.

There's a certain symmetry to the fact that ten years later, after seeing the film Desert Hearts, her sweetheart descended on the Berkeley Public Library to find some of "those" books. In the old-style card catalogs, author card "Rule, Jane" led to subject card "Lesbianism-Fiction" and then on to book after self-affirming book by and about lesbians. These books were the encouragement Karin needed to forget the so-called "mainstream" and spin her first romance for lesbians. That ma.n.u.script became her first novel, In Every Port.

The happily-ever-after couple now lives in the San Francis...o...b..y Area, and became Mom and Moogie to Kelson in 1995 and Eleanor in 1997. They celebrated their twenty-seventh anniversary in 2004.

All of Karin's work can now be found at Bella Books. Details and background about her novels, and her other pen name, Laura Adams, can be found at her own web site.

1.

Monday evening, June 2:.

I will not damage the rude patrons or the annoying heteros.e.xual coworker.

Trombone continues to throw up in my shoes. Professor Hill has chewed up the crotch of yet another pair of panties. It's been so long since anyone was down there I've probably turned to liverwurst.

I'm never going to move up if I don't get my M.L.S., so I'm going to get my M.L.S. It's not like it'll cut much into my social life.

HER is still the only woman I want. As usual, I feel stupid and pathetic for wanting HER.

Someone will die if my period doesn't start tomorrow.

"We have to have lunch. Today." Marian knew that cement tone in Ellie's voice.

1.

"But I don't know more than what I said," Marian protested. She took her mug of hot tea out of the microwave and set it down on the table in the break room.

"You may not realize what you know."

"You sound like an interrogator. I don't have time for lunch today. Bill's out sick." Marian wanted to kick herself. She ought to have known that Ellie would go into hyper-hunt mode the moment she found out.

"I thought Bill the Boor's being out would make you happy. So celebrate by having lunch with me."

Marian steadied herself with a deep breath. "When Jersey stopped in this morning, she said that Amy said the woman was getting a stack pa.s.s at the Psych Library. So she'll be here for a while."

"Yeah, but I want first shot at her. C'mon, Marian. Fresh meat in the summer? That never happens! You and I have a chance for once.

You know that Jersey left the library and told at least five student d.y.k.es. Amy told five faculty d.y.k.es after she told Jersey, you know she did. And all of them told five d.y.k.es. By tonight every d.y.k.e in Iowa City is going to know."

Though she spoke through gritted teeth, Marian thought she managed to sound almost normal. "Dinner. I can meet you for dinner."

Clearly surprised, Ellie replied, "Well, okay. That'll do, I guess.

Where?"

"You decide. I can't make decisions today."

"Oh." Ellie clicked her tongue against her teeth, a sound Marian found as annoying on the phone as she did in person. "I see.

Amani's?"

Amani's chocolate cake was exactly what Marian needed. "At seven," she confirmed. Eric wandered into the staff room and looked hopefully at the phone. "Break's over. Gotta go."

Back at the reference desk, Marian surrept.i.tiously unwrapped a Dove dark chocolate bite. On a day like today it was medicinal.

Besides, it was heart healthy and she had a link to the research study to prove it.

2.

She had just finished savoring the last bitter aftertaste when a patron paused at the desk. She pushed the chocolate's wrapper into the back pocket of her tailored khaki shorts and smiled pleasantly.

"May I help you locate a resource?"

The youth's slouch and greasy hair was at odds with a shy smile.

"Could you help me, I guess, I want to please know how would I address a letter to the Queen. Of England. Please."

Books and covers, Marian thought. "We have several texts on etiquette, but a simple Web search might be fastest. Did you want just that question answered or are you interested in the topic of social etiquette with monarchs?"

"It's for a school sociology project. My final."

Given the date, Marian thought he'd left his research a little late.

High schools were nearly out. "Then for thorough research I think you'll want the text."

Marian led the boy to an open terminal. "Have you used the public library system before?" The boy cleared his throat, but Marian didn't know quite what to make of the noise that came out.

Now she recognized him. He worked afternoons at the Java House.

"No? Here's the catalog browser and you can use the Internet browser as well. It's of course free and there's no enforced time limit.

Starting tomorrow, new software will limit you to two hours of Internet access per day. Try a catalog search for etiquette and I think we'll see some useful guides. Sorry about the mouse. Just click three times." Tech Services was taking its time getting a new one.

Even though the day was not going well, the orderly precision of the Dewey Decimal System was comforting as always to Marian. She patiently explained how the cataloging system worked and led him to the nonfiction shelves.

"So all these books in this area could be helpful because they're numbered the same?" The boy looked a bit like he'd found the Mother Lode. Marian was gratified to have been the one to have shown him the Dewey magic, but she was simultaneously peeved that he hadn't been taught in school. As pleasant as teaching the 3 system could be, it was not the be-all and end-all of her career choice.

"Precisely, and related subjects, like cultural standards, are adjacent. The very last Dewey entry, by the way, is the nine hundred ninety-nine series-extraterrestrial."

"Cool."

She was very pleased he hadn't grabbed the book she'd pointed out initially and bolted. "If you find your question hasn't been completely answered, feel free to return to the reference desk. Good luck with your paper," she concluded cheerily.

Safely back at the desk, Marian congratulated herself for not killing anyone so far.

"I can't find the phone book I need."

It was an effort, but Marian plastered a smile on her face. Over the patron's shoulder she saw Eric, travel mug in hand, veer abruptly toward the magazines, leaving her to deal with the woman she privately thought of as the Lead b.i.t.c.h from the Seventh Dimension of b.i.t.c.h Universe. "How pleasant to see you again. What area were you looking for?"

Seventh Dimension b.i.t.c.h tossed her fluffy blonde hair over her shoulder. There was something in the way she did it that made Marian absolutely certain that she should feel inadequate about her own short, dark, unremarkable hair. The woman had all the att.i.tude of Trombone, but likely none of the purring. "Dallas, of course."

"Of course," Marian echoed. "I'm sorry, but the Iowa City Public Library no longer carries phone books for areas outside of the state.

But you can use several different sources on the Internet. I'd be happy-"

"Never mind! You people never have what I want." The departing flounce ruffled several papers onto the floor.

After tidying, Marian reached surrept.i.tiously for another square of chocolate. Eric, the chickens.h.i.t, was back. Under her breath she said, "How long do you think it would take for someone to die from being repeatedly stapled?"

4.

"It's not worth it. I don't want to visit you in jail."

"But I look good in orange."

"You look like a cadaver in orange."

Marian became aware of the tinny treble from a pair of headphones, but no one in sight had a pair on. She'd have to hunt for the culprit.

A cell phone shrilled from the direction of adult nonfiction, sending razors up her spine. "I'm at the library, so I can't talk long," a man's voice boomed.

"I'll go," Eric said.

"No, I got it. Days like today these cards save lives."

She slipped the cell-phone user the first card, which politely asked the patron to end the call or to step outside, and nodded pleasantly at the man's annoyed face. Had he no clue at all that everyone in the vicinity could hear his opinion of last night's date? She waited until he shuffled slowly toward the exit, then let her ears guide her toward the still audible static and ba.s.s of headphones.

The young woman read the card in surprise but mouthed an apology and turned the volume down sufficiently so that Marian could no longer hear anything.

Fair enough, Marian thought. She gave the patron a thumbs-up and went back to the desk. She had another hour of desk time before she could retire to the shared works.p.a.ce in the back to review new acquisitions. No one had had to be gutted and grilled. It was a relief.

Eric wasn't there, but Seventh Dimension b.i.t.c.h was.

It took a very deep breath to find even a businesslike smile. She dealt with the next series of statements about the library system's inadequacies without losing her cool, though she felt like a cartoon character with steam coming out of her ears.

Please, she thought, let my period start now. Or someone is going to die.

Eric had moved all the staplers to his end of the desk.

5.