Free Substitute for Love by Karin Kallmaker

from Tori’s hand.
    Tori muttered, “Just keep me away from Murphy.”
    “I did try, but you were deep in your cups at the time.”
    Tori laughed at that. “Okay, let me rephrase. Keep Murphy away from me unless you want a homicide on the premises.”
    “She’s about ready to leave,” Tish said. “I’m sure she has to get her beauty sleep before she goes to Jack’s tonight.”
    “I was thinking about asking Geena if she wanted to dance the night away, since it’s the first Friday of the month. But you think Murphy will be there, huh?”
    “Yeah, when isn’t she? I’m going to work your butt off—you’ll deserve a night on the town.”
    “Jack’s is not exactly the Ritz.” Tori turned to Holly. “It’s the nearest gay bar and on first Fridays they have Ladies’ Night. It’s pretty much a dive, but it beats fighting traffic all the way to West Hollywood or Laguna Beach. Though the bar where Melissa Etheridge used to play is very nice.”
    “You should treat yourself to whatever you want,” Holly advised. “I have to be in Ventura by eight.”
    Tori glanced at her watch. “You have to leave by, what, three? You’d better hit the road.”
    “Fortunately it won’t take me long to get ready.”
    “Yeah, I’ve always admired your natural look. I take way too long to get ready in the morning.”
    Holly took in, for the first time with more than a passing interest, how lovely Tori was. Her eyebrows were gracefully arched, and her eyelids dusted with a delicate mixture of browns and oranges that enhanced her bright brown eyes. Her olive cheeks were smooth and soft and Holly knew they would not burn her throat…
    Aghast, she floundered for something to say and came up with, “I’m too lazy.”
    Tori shrugged and picked up her purse. “It suits you and Geena both. I have flaws to cover. Show me where to put my stuff, Tish.”
    Holly left with a promise to call soon and drove away with a sensation of escape. When she pulled into her driveway she was glad Clay wasn’t there. She turned off the engine and sat for a minute, her head on the steering wheel.
    It was too much to take in. She could hardly wrap her mind around the idea that Clay was not the man she had thought he was. Her opinion of him, formed at sixteen, had been based on his persona as a teacher. It had not changed in all the years since, not until yesterday, when her image of him as a man and a partner fragmented like a smashed mirror. That alone made her feel as if she was walking a spit of land between the yawning chasms of past and future.
    But there was more, more to bear, more to fear. More — she could not even comprehend. Murphy with Tori, doing something to her that three years later still made Tori blush. Holly could imagine Tori whispering what it was to Geena, asking Geena to do it, too. Their bodies merged in a midnight glow. What was it? Did it matter? Something wonderful, something she, Holly, had never had. And would never have with Clay. Might never have… with a man.
    The car seemed suddenly airless and she hurried inside, trying to turn her mind to immediate needs. She needed to change for the wedding, and pack a few edibles for the long drive. It would take more than four hours to go a little over a hundred miles in rush-hour traffic, but not even half that to return home any time after nine.
    She showered, the water as hot as she could stand it, shampoo suds cascading down her shoulders and stomach.
    She was lost, abruptly, in the feel of her breasts under the slick lather.
    A question formed. An equation wanted to be solved.
    You could not even know what a thing was, she had thought only yesterday, and mathematics could express it. How to express this? The sensation of skin, the prickle of her nipples and the question — is this how other women feel?
    Her fingertips felt alive. She turned off the water at last and toweled her hair. She looked at her body in the mirror, then gently touched her lips, her hips, at last