"How bad did you hurt him?"

"I blacked his eyes and his nose was a swollen mess, but he healed up fine in just a few weeks. It pretty much ruined my high school years though. Every one knew I was gay and that made it hard for me to make friends because everyone was suspect if they spent too much time with me. Poor Bruce had it almost as bad."

"It must have been hard on you."

Robin shrugged. "You get used to what you can't change. I dealt with it by being belligerently proud."

"So how old were you the first time you were with a girl?"

"Not a girl," Robin laughed with some embarra.s.sment. "My first time was my first everything. My 21st birthday, my first gay bar, my first kiss, my first s.e.xual encounter, my first o.r.g.a.s.m-everything."

"What was her name?"

"Peg. She was 36 and she ate me up. I was scared to death." Robin blushed remembering that night. "It never even occurred to me to say no. She put me on the back of her motorcycle, took me to a cheap motel and turned me into silly putty. Looking back, the s.e.x really wasn't that memorable, but I had nothing to measure her against and I thought she was wonderful."

"How do I measure up?"

Robin looked at her in surprise. "You can't be serious. I mean, can't you tell how good you are by how...? You aren't like anyone else I've ever been with. It's like comparing...raisins and pa.s.sion fruit."

"I just wanted to hear you say it." Maryl hugged Robin's arm. "Nice a.n.a.logy, by the way."

Robin chuckled at herself for falling into Maryl's trap. "I love it when you use big words," she teased. "It makes me feel all gooey inside."

"Oh!" Maryl exclaimed. "Speaking of gooey...I can't believe I let you talk me into singing for those cretins."

"I was wondering how that went," Robin grinned.

"It was humiliating! Kirsten actually flinched and Brooke covered her ears. Linda patted me on the head like a dog."

"Was the cobbler good?"

"Delicious, but I'm not sure it was worth it. I told you I couldn't sing."

"You sing fine," Robin said truthfully. "You just can't carry a tune. Besides, it's not about how good you are; it's about how good you feel when you do it."

"Well, it makes me feel bad when dogs howl and children cry."

"What about when it was just you and I? Did it feel good then?"

"That was different."

"Why?"

"I guess because...you didn't seem to mind."

"I like that you can't sing."

"That's the first time I've heard that," Maryl laughed. "How come?"

"It's easy to share things you're good at, but very hard to share the bad. I know I twisted your arm, but you sang for me and it made me feel closer to you. It had to be hard for you to do, but you did it anyway and I'll never forget that."

Maryl gave her a considering look. "What are you bad at?"

"Nothing obvious," Robin answered. "Let's see. I can't do that thing with my tongue where you roll it..." Maryl demonstrated. "That's it. And I can't whistle."

"Not at all?"

Robin shook her head and they stopped walking while she tried anyway. Maryl tried to explain it, but no matter how she moved her mouth, she just made herself light-headed.

"You're right," Maryl said as they gave up. "It does make me feel closer to you knowing that you can't do something so simple."

"Simple for you, maybe."

Maryl squeezed her hand. "Let's go eat lunch. I have plans for you."

Robin's nipples hardened to the point they felt brittle and she led the way back to camp.

Robin lay with her head in Maryl's lap watching the stars and listening to the crackle of the fire. She was using a twig to clean her teeth-having forgotten to bring her toothbrush-and Maryl was leaning back on one hand, stroking Robin's hair with the other. They were both dressed, at least temporarily, against the chill of the evening.

"What are you thinking about?" Robin asked into the silence.

"Just listening to the frogs and crickets." Maryl's voice was soft and dreamy. "Enjoying being here with you."

"You're the best time I've ever had," Robin ventured. Maryl smiled, but it seemed obligatory. Her eyes were sad and lonely. Robin knew in that moment how the future would be and her chest ached. She couldn't bear to let Maryl see her heart break, so she rolled to her side and faced the fire. With nothing left to lose, she said what she had been waiting to say all day. "I love you, Maryl."

"I love you, too."

Hope flared briefly. "But it doesn't matter, does it?"

Maryl was almost whispering. "It matters a great deal."

"Still," Robin persisted, "it's almost over, isn't it?" She waited a long agonizing moment for Maryl's answer.

"That's how it is with dreams, Robin. They're beautiful while they last, but they always end."

Robin fought the need to cry. She knew it wouldn't help. "Is there someone else?"

"No," Maryl said quickly. "I promise...it's nothing like that."

"Then why?" When she didn't get an immediate answer she began to hope again. "The most important thing is that we love each other. Everything else is geography and finances."

"Everything else is reality," Maryl said with tears in her voice. "We have lives and habits and needs that we're going back to. Hearts and bodies aren't enough to build a relations.h.i.+p on."

This didn't make any sense to Robin. "But it's the best place to start."

"It's more likely to be the beginning of the end."

"That's pretty cynical."

"Perhaps. But I'm not leaving Edgewater and you need your family."

"That's for me to decide."

"True," Maryl admitted. "But I won't ask you to leave them behind. They're more important to you than you may realize and they need you, too."

Robin was feeling a little desperate and angry. "You left your family."

"My family and yours are nothing alike. Our relations.h.i.+ps to our families are completely different. Leaving my family was a matter of emotional survival. Your family completes you." Maryl sighed. "But it's not just family, Robin. Are you going to quit your job and start over as a cas.h.i.+er? That's not very realistic."

"Who's to say what kind of position I could find in Edgewater? It might be a step up, not a step down."

"What about friends?"

"I'll make new friends." Maryl's hand left her hair and Robin turned to see her face. She had her hand over her mouth and tears were rolling down her cheeks. Robin sat up and put one hand over Maryl's legs for balance as she looked into her face. "What is it really, Maryl? No more excuses. If you don't love me the way I love you, say so. I can understand that. But to just...dismiss the possibility of a future with me without a reason-I need to understand, Maryl. Don't do this to us without involving me."

Maryl closed her eyes and shook her head.

Robin looked around as if for help. The only thing she could think of was to explain why understanding was so important to her, so she took a deep, calming breath. "My last lover's name was Tammy. We were together for 12 years. I left her on our twelfth anniversary. The last year I was with her was a nightmare because she wouldn't talk to me. One day everything seemed fine and the next day she hated me. I don't know why, but I tried everything."

It made Robin feel hopeless all over again just remembering. "She wouldn't go to counseling with me, so I went alone. Of course that did absolutely nothing for her. If I made a special meal, she ate in front of the TV or went to bed without eating. She couldn't bear for me to touch her so I slept on the sofa. If I asked how her day was, she told me it was none of my business. I wasn't folding the clothes right. I wasn't was.h.i.+ng the dishes properly. I was running the vacuum over the carpet nap incorrectly. I swear, I couldn't do even one thing to her satisfaction. If I paid the bills I was nagging. If I didn't pay the bills I was selfish. I bought the wrong kind of toilet paper and laundry soap and toothpaste. We had a huge fight once over tomato sauce. I bought her gifts and she either ignored them or p.a.w.ned them. I would bring her flowers and as soon as I left the room, she would throw them away. And through it all, every single time I tried to talk to her and find out what was wrong, she told me I was imagining things and that there was nothing to talk about. I still don't know why she stopped loving me." Robin used the backs of her fingers to wipe away Maryl's tears. "If you don't at least try to make me understand, it would be the cruelest thing you could do to me. Please, baby. Talk to me."

Maryl leaned into her with a sob and a nod. Robin pulled her into her lap and wrapped the blanket about them both. "Take your time, lover. Take all the time you want. You have my undivided attention."

Maryl cried for a long while and Robin rocked her patiently. Maryl eventually quieted enough to talk, but her words were halting and pained.

"My last relations.h.i.+p lasted 31 weeks. That's the longest relations.h.i.+p I've ever had. I've only had two last longer than 4 months. They always leave me and they usually do something hateful to say goodbye."

Robin wanted to say something to make it all right, but Maryl wasn't finished.

"I can't remember how many times I've been cheated on. My checking account has been cleaned out twice and all of my furniture disappeared once. My car has been thrashed and all of the windows in my house have been broken. I've been slapped and pushed and called horrible names."

Maryl choked on her words, but continued on. "I came home from work a few months ago to find my girlfriend, in my bed, sandwiched happily between two men and she couldn't even remember their names. They didn't even bother to stop. She tried to get me to join in and called me a prude when I refused."

Robin felt sick.

"It's always something," Maryl cried. "I'm too s.e.xually adventurous. I'm not adventurous enough. I'm too focused on material comfort. I don't have enough education. My politics are all wrong. I'm G.o.dless or I wors.h.i.+p the wrong G.o.d. It's not fair that I only pay half the bills. I don't care enough. I care too much." Maryl's face twisted up in self-recrimination. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong!"

Robin couldn't fix what Maryl was saying in her head. It seemed so at odds with the woman she had come to know. It was flat impossible to believe that Maryl was at fault in any of it. The idea that she somehow deserved such treatment was ludicrous. Perhaps her choices in women were poor, but Robin couldn't believe that Maryl was unlovable: that she was doing something in her everyday life that drove women mad. Granted, she didn't know what Maryl was like at home, but even so...

"You're afraid I'll leave you, too," Robin said quietly. "That I'll hurt you and leave you alone."

Maryl nodded through fresh tears.

Robin kissed her forehead. "I'm not like them, babe. You'll see."

"No," Maryl cried. "I need..."

Robin waited for a moment, but Maryl didn't speak. "Tell me, Maryl. Whatever it is, tell me."

Maryl couldn't stop crying and she spoke through her sobs. "I need one good memory. I need to have one memory to cherish-one thing no one can take away from me. I need a memory I can hold in my heart when they cheat and steal and scream that they hate me. I need one person who loved me and didn't leave. I need to know that dreams are possible. Just one thing to make me feel hope."

"Hope for what?"

"Hope that someday I'll find someone."

Robin looked full into Maryl's face. "And if I'm her?" She watched as Maryl struggled for the control to speak.

"If something seems too good to be true, it is."

Robin was stunned into silence. All the pieces slid neatly into place and she could see for the first time how broken Maryl felt. She knew that Maryl was on retreat with a support group, but it never really occurred to her that Maryl had a reason for being in it. The epiphany brought no joy-only grief-and she let her tears fall unchecked. She knew that Maryl loved her. She knew that she was the best thing Maryl had ever felt and she knew she had to let her go. There was nothing she could say or do that would break through Maryl's fear in a single night without destroying any chance that one day they might be together.

Robin looked up at the stars with a watery gaze and searched for a spark of hope in her own heart. When she found it, she nurtured the uncertain flicker until she felt strong enough to be what Maryl needed.

Maryl's hands were knotted tightly against her chest and Robin gently took one. She eased her hand open and laid it over her heart. She looked into Maryl's tormented face. "Can you feel my heartbeat?" Maryl hesitated a moment and then nodded. "Listen to me very carefully." Robin poured all of her emotion into her voice in an effort to make her believe. "I love you. And I know that you love me just as much. Until it's time to go, that's all there is between us. Just love."

She ignored Maryl's sobs and began making love to her. Their bodies were desperately intent on wringing every last moment of intimacy and bliss from their time together and the only words they spoke were of love.

Robin woke late and instantly knew she was alone. Even knowing, she still had to see. She sat up and looked around the small beach. All of Maryl's things were gone and it took her a moment to identify what was different beyond that one devastating fact.

Small river rocks had been collected and placed beside her to spell the words 'I love you'. Robin felt something relentless come out of the ground and enter her body. It moved faster and faster until it erupted from her throat and echoed off the hills. She could feel leaves shake loose from the trees and rocks tremble. For a moment, the river reversed course.

She fell to the side and sobbed until she was empty of all but that tiny flicker of hope and she embraced it. With her mission firmly in place, Robin collected every rock Maryl had left for her, threw her belongings together in a jumble and headed downstream. She felt clearer, more focused and more driven than ever before. Less than 10 minutes later she found Bruce waiting for her on the path with concern in his eyes. He waded out to walk beside her.

"It's over then." It wasn't a question.

"That's what she thinks," Robin said with grim purpose.

Bruce grinned. "You go, girl."

PART THREE.

MARYL TOOK A seat in the back and stuffed her pillow between her head and the side of the van. Folding her arms to protect her bruised heart, she closed her eyes and willed the others to leave her in peace. Her eyes were dry, but she cried all the way back to town. She felt alternately hopeless and grateful. She had her memory and she was both lifted up by it and cast into the abyss. She knew Robin was hurting-she imagined she could feel it-and she regretted it. She could only hope that her last message was understood. Always and forever she would remember Robin with nothing but love. She hoped that Robin's family would be there for her and ease some of the pain.

The other women in the van carried on their own conversations and did not pressure her to talk. Even Linda was very nearly personable. The miles stretched endlessly and it seemed to take longer to get home than it had taken to get up to the campsite. It was with relief that they finally pulled up to Eva's house. Unloading the van and getting everyone's belongings sorted out took some time, but at the end of it Eva collected them all in a group hug. Maryl didn't especially like the group hugs-they were too impersonal and unsatisfying-but she partic.i.p.ated because it was expected of her. Eva set the date for their next meeting and Maryl honestly didn't know if she would go or not.

Eva followed her to her car and put her hand on the door to prevent her opening it. "I'm worried about you, Maryl."

She leaned back against her Toyota and firmly pushed her pain away. "I'm okay. Really."

"I know you want me to believe that," Eva said with understanding. "But I don't."

Maryl folded her arms and ground her teeth before speaking. "I'm exactly where I choose to be. No one did this to me. I have what I wanted and I'll learn to live with it. Today is probably the hardest."

"I hope it was worth it," Eva said with tenderness and compa.s.sion. "Call me at any time if you want to talk. Anything you tell me outside the group stays private. I promise."

"Thanks, Eva. For everything." She accepted Eva's hug in the spirit with which it was given, then waved goodbye to the others and drove away. Her first stop, and the one she needed most, was at the kennel to pick up Rupert, her six-year-old Chow.

"How's my big boy? Oh, yes!" She laughed as he licked her face in a frenzy of excitement. "Mommy missed her handsome little man," she crooned. "Yes, she did!" He was wiggling too hard to allow a truly satisfying hug, but Maryl knew he would be all over her once he had a chance to get home and realize that things were back to normal. She paid the second half of the boarding fee with genuine thanks and took Rupert out to the car. "Do you want to go home, Ru?"