Джерри Хилл: Kara’s Moon

Ginny bit into her own sandwich, then looked up and watched as Kara licked the apple juice from her lips. Ginny felt nearly mesmerized by the sight of Kara’s tongue as it wet her lips and she stopped chewing and watched.

"What?" Kara asked, sensing Ginny’s gaze on her.

"Hmmm?" Ginny raised her eyes to Kara’s blue ones and frowned, then bit into her sandwich again.

Kara’s mouth moved into a slow grin, then she brushed it away. No playing with the locals, she reminded herself again. But there was something about the green-eyed woman that intrigued her.

"So, what are you doing here, really?" Kara asked, hoping it was a safe question.

Ginny smiled. Should she give the practiced speech she told everyone or should she tell this stranger the truth? She shrugged, opting for her speech.

"When my grandfather died, I thought Nana would need someone to take care of her, so I used my inheritance from my mother and bought the store and moved." She shrugged again and tucked her hair behind her ears. "I moved here in October."

Kara leaned her elbows on the table and met Ginny’s eyes with a smile. "You’ve got that well rehearsed, don’t you?"

Ginny smiled too. "Is it that obvious?"

Kara nodded. "And Phil?"

"Oh, I’m such a coward when it comes to him. He’s really a sweet man, only he wanted to get married and I kept putting him off." She let out a heavy sigh and looked up at the trees. "He was getting restless, demanding."

"Wouldn’t take no for an answer?" Kara asked.

"I mean, he wanted three kids, a house in the suburbs, the whole nine yards. I just wasn’t ready," Ginny said. Then, almost to herself, "I wasn’t sure."

"Maybe you just don’t love him," Kara said, reading her thoughts.

Ginny hadn’t been able to tell herself that. After four years, surely she loved him. But something was missing and she felt like she would be settling if she just went ahead and married him.

"Maybe I just don’t love him enough," she allowed. "Maybe I’ve read too many romance books." She leaned forward and said softly, "I mean, I want that passion, that burning desire for someone that makes you crazy when you’re not with them and crazier still when you are. You know what I mean?"

"You’re a romantic," Kara stated.

"Maybe so. Maybe there’s no such thing as that kind of love." Ginny met her eyes for a moment. "Have you ever had that?"

Kara looked past her, into the trees. "No. Never," she said quietly. She had thought, once, that she had found it, but she had given up searching for it when Marsha left her one winter. She had been so involved in her painting that it was two days before she even knew she was gone. She pushed her thoughts back into her memory and forced a smile. "But I’m not really expecting it anymore."

Ginny hadn’t missed the pain that had flashed across Kara’s face briefly, before she had hidden it, but she wouldn’t pry. They were only strangers. You don’t bare your soul to strangers.

"So, what did you do in Seattle?" Kara asked, looking for a safer subject.

"I was in marketing. I designed ads. That’s where I met Phil," she said. "We worked for the same firm."

"So you quit your job and moved up here to take care of Louise?" Kara grinned. "And Phil had no idea you were running away?"

"Oh, he had an idea, all right." Ginny laughed. "He said he would give me six months to come running back, then he was coming to get me."

"And?"

"And it’s been eight and he’ll be coming this summer." She sat up straight and tried to mimic his tone. "Ginny, you’re not making sense. We love each other, it’s only natural that we get married."

"Have you ever tired the direct approach? Leave me alone, I’ll call you if I want you?"

Ginny laughed. "No. The truth is, I don’t want to hurt him. He’s done nothing wrong."

"Maybe you’re hanging on to him, just in case," Kara said.

"Just in case what?" Ginny asked sharply.

"In case nothing better comes along. At least you’ll still have him," she said.

Ginny shook her head. "No. I would hate to think that’s what I’m doing." She wondered if indeed Kara wasn’t right though.

Their eyes met across the table for an instant and Kara saw a spark of anger in the younger woman’s eyes, daring her to say more.

Kara looked away but offered a smile. "I’ve upset you. I’m sorry."

"No. Maybe you’ve hit on the truth and I don’t like it." Ginny stood and tossed her bag into the trash. "Maybe I am simply hanging on to him for that reason. It would suck, but it may be true."

"Well, it’s none of my business, anyway," Kara said and stood and tossed a perfect strike into the trash can, her apple disappearing into the bin.

They rode back in silence and when Ginny got out, she walked around to the driver’s door and leaned in.

"I’m not angry with you, Kara. I just haven’t had a chance to talk to anyone about this before. My friends, they all think Phil is a wonderful man and that I’m insane not to marry him. Nana wants great-grandchildren and for me not to be an old maid," she said lightly. "I guess maybe you made me see things differently. And the truth sometimes hurts," she said quietly, her eyes again locking on blue.

Kara shrugged. "Again, I’m sorry. None of my business." She lifted a hand as Ginny stepped back. "Thanks for lunch. I’ll see you around," she said.

Ginny nodded and watched as Kara drove off. Through the back window, she saw her light a cigarette and she thought again that she had never met a woman quite like her before. Strong, independent, alone and seemingly happy. But she remembered the pain that had been on her face earlier, briefly, before Kara had hidden it. She wondered who had caused this woman pain?

Kara savored her cigarette, her third of the day, as she drove slowly to her cabin. She should work, she thought, but she felt restless. She took a beer, one of only six she had brought with her, and walked into the woods to the property line. The old fence was in need of repair and she crawled through it easily into the forest beyond. She walked aimlessly, letting her mind drift. She had not thought of Marsha in a very long time, she realized. Kara had barely turned thirty-two when Marsha left. Her work was just catching on and her paintings were in demand and she had been very busy. Too busy to notice that she was neglecting Marsha and everything else in her life. They had met when she was twenty-six; Kara, a spoiled rich kid pretending to be an artist and Marsha, fresh out of college, trying to land a corporate job that would take her out of her parents shabby home in Tacoma. Marsha had been impressed with Kara’s cottage on Bainbridge Island and even more impressed when she found out that Kara’s parents had given it to her as a gift. Kara had gotten Marsha a job with her father’s company and they had settled into their life with ease. And it had been fun, especially at the beginning. Kara had no worries. She sold a few paintings here and there and accepted her parents monthly allowance without guilt. But the more successful she got, the more it consumed her, this need to make a name for herself, to be a successful working artist. It had taken its toll on their relationship. Her endless travel during the summers, the endless hours of painting during the winters had been their undoing.

And Marsha had simply disappeared from her life one day. When Kara realized what had happened, it had been too late to salvage things. Marsha had met someone else and Kara had let her go. There had been no one since. Oh, plenty of women had shared her bed, but none had gotten into her heart. Not that many had even tried.

AFTER NANA HAD gone to bed, Ginny sorted through the old issues of Northwest Magazine. When she found the one she wanted, she took her cup of hot tea and settled on the sofa to read. The picture of Kara Morgan stared back at her and Ginny scanned her face, finally settling on her blue eyes, wondering at her sudden curiosity for this woman. She pulled her eyes away and began reading, glancing back to Kara’s picture occasionally. Her eyes followed her index finger as she read, but the article was very impersonal, shedding little light into the woman herself. It wasn’t until the final paragraph that Ginny stumbled over the words.