Free One Degree of Separation by Karin Kallmaker

people, swear to freakin’ god,” before two enormous tears spilled down Marian’s face.
    It was incredibly awkward, standing next to someone who was silently sobbing. Excusing herself would be heartless. Yet what could she do?
    After a minute she dug in her pocket for a tissue. “Here. And I’ll take you to your friend’s house for your keys. I’m not late for anything.”
    Marian covered her eyes with the tissue, and a small noise that belied the depth of her distress escaped her. It was the sound of a hurt dove.
    Liddy felt empathetic tears start in her eyes. Hell, there was one thing she could do.
    Marian didn’t resist her head being pulled to Liddy’s shoulder.
    Her arms circled Liddy’s waist in complete surrender to human comfort.
    “It’ll be okay. Eventually,” Liddy whispered. She wished she weren’t quite so sticky from her workout. She had to add “eventually” because this was how she’d cried over Robyn. She’d cried and cried while Mom told her it would be okay, and then she’d cried because it pissed her off that her mother didn’t understand that it would never be okay.
    It was a few minutes before Marian stepped back abruptly, wiping her face. “I’m sorry—you must think me a fool.”
    “No, really. I’ve had to cry like that. I’ll take you to your friend’s for the keys.”
    Marian nodded and gathered her bags.
    “You’ll have to climb in through my door. I’m sorry I blocked you.”
    All Marian said, when Liddy activated the slide out step was,
    “How useful.”
    “It’s that or dislocate a shoulder climbing in.” Very quietly, Marian replied, “Dislocating a shoulder is not something I want to repeat, thank you.”
    Liddy would have asked more about that, but Marian turned her face to the window.
    After they were backed out of the parking space, Marian said,
    “She’s in the Longfellow area.”
    “You’ll have to point me the right way.”
    “I’m sorry. Head toward the university.”
    “That I can do. I have found even when I’m not looking for it, I always end up at the university.”
    “You could actually drop me at work. That’s where I was going next. Ellie will drop off my keys if I leave her a message. I’m going to see her this evening, regardless.”
    Marian had presumed Liddy knew where her work was, so she obviously remembered her. Liddy felt oddly relieved. “Are you sure?”
    Marian nodded. “I’m so sorry.”
    “Stop apologizing.”
    “It’s a bad habit.”
    Liddy turned toward the river and then stole a glance at her passenger. “Did you want to stop somewhere to tidy up?”
    “Do I need to? Shit, I’m sorry. Of course I do. I look like a circus clown after I cry.”
    “That’s a little harsh,” Liddy offered, though the comment was somewhat true. Marian’s eyes were puffy and red, and she had telltale blotches of pink across her forehead and cheeks. She looked unhappy, deeply unhappy. “You could dash into the Java House. Coffee and a face wash.”
    Marian shrugged and Liddy had no idea what to make of that.
    “Half the people I know hang out there, though it is early for the Friday meet.”
    “Then where? Oh—look. I live a few blocks up on North Dodge, so it’s no bother.”
    “I couldn’t impose.”
    “Why not?”
    Marian shrugged. “Thank you, then.”
    Liddy turned toward the house, then realized her offer meant she’d have to repark the Hummer in the driveway twice. She gritted her teeth as she waited for traffic to clear before risking the Scylla and Charybdis guarding the narrow entrance.
    “Does it fit in the drive?”
    “It would be easier without those posts.”
    “Why don’t you park in the back?”
    For a long minute, Liddy was torn between not wanting to appear incredibly stupid because she had no idea what the hell Marian was talking about, and a fervent desire to learn exactly what Marian meant. Practicality won. “There’s a, uh, back parking space?”
    “Didn’t they tell you? A friend of mine