Checked out, p.12
Checked Out, page 12
Peri’s breath hung in the air as she fumbled for her keys. “I’ll see you at the party then?”
“If our paths don’t cross sooner.” It was icy cold, but nothing could have made her move. Peri didn’t even seem flustered, which was unfair. Lisette knew her cheeks were redder than the cold could explain. Make a joke, say good night…
Finally, she found the will to turn toward her door as she forced out, “Pleasant dreams.”
“Lisette?”
She turned back to find Peri close behind her. She leaned into Peri’s warmth and the chill of the porch didn’t matter as she pulled Peri close. Peri’s lips were soft with surprise, and Lisette felt her shiver through her coat as Lisette wound her arms around Peri’s shoulders. The soles of her feet were hot.
Peri broke the kiss to lean her forehead against Lisette’s. After a deep sigh she said, amusement in her voice, “I forgot my box of cookies.”
“Oh my goodness.” With a strangled laugh Lisette dashed inside and returned to the porch. “Keep the box level.”
“Thank you.” Her gaze went from the box to Lisette’s face.
She couldn’t move as Peri leaned in to kiss her softly on the lips again before stepping out into the night.
Afterward, she was almost sure she heard Peri say, “Wow,” as she closed the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“IF YOU PRESS HERE on the collar, you get this.” Peri demonstrated and the woefully tinny and off-tune notes of “Jingle Bells” played for far longer than any sane person could tolerate.
Lisette clapped her hands over her mouth with a squeal. “Oh, that’s the worst. Where did you get this sweater?”
They were standing in Sansa’s foyer where all new arrivals handed cookies over to the hostess and submitted to Ugly Sweater inspection.
“The consignment store on Elmwood. Santa cats and drunken reindeer, now that’s something.” The music finally stopped. “Oh thank god.”
“Push it again!” Lisette threatened to.
From around them a chorus of voices shouted, “No!”
Chelsea, who was positively conservative in a simple green sweater with a sequined red collar, nodded sagely as she plucked at Peri’s sleeve. “This will be hard to beat. I mean, this sleeve here, that’s just made up of the ends of different skeins. You don’t see a lot of chartreuse with orange, but it’s the ribbon of muddy puce that brings home the ugly.”
Behind them a new arrival entered, took one look at Peri’s sweater, and bowed. “I’m not worthy.”
“I think Lisette’s sweater is in the running.” Peri gestured and Lisette did a twirl. Peri couldn’t take her eyes off Lisette’s hair pulled back into an elegant knot that coiled at the nape of her neck, or the long, dangling icicle earrings that cast prisms of light onto her pale throat.
But she really couldn’t look away from the searing red sweater with green creatures that were neither puppies nor reindeer. It was draped with gold tinsel garland up and down both arms and tied in a bow across the back. At the very bottom of the sweater in the back, a thick braid of more garland formed a tail that trailed on the ground behind her.
“I tried. The tail is too much, isn’t it?”
Chelsea shook her head. “No, I think you got that just right. You could add some mistletoe though.”
“I’m not that kind of girl,” Lisette said primly. “Even if sometimes I do want to tell people to kiss my ass.”
Peri laughed appreciatively. “Don’t we all.”
“Come look at the cookies.” Lisette grabbed Peri’s hand and pulled her farther into the house.
Peri had the feeling that Lisette had already started on the wassail.
The party spilled from the foyer, down a hallway, into the kitchen, front room, dining room, and family room. It was a more modern house than Lisette’s and organized for entertaining. The kitchen was redolent of cinnamon, nutmeg, and apple, all of which made her stomach growl appreciatively.
“There are so many cookies.” Lisette gestured at the length of an eight-foot folding table.
Tea cookies dusted in powdered sugar, dark brown gingerbread people with hand-painted mittens and scarves, red jam thumbprint cookies. Cookies covered in chocolate and crushed peppermint candy. Toffee-colored peanut butter mice cookies with peanuts for ears and long chocolate tails. In the center was a carefully decorated sleigh complete with a bag of presents, Santa, and eight reindeer. In the midst of it all Peri thought her iced sugar cookies looked okay, but clearly some people took the competition very seriously.
“Those are your tuxedo cookies and cranberry snowflakes.” She lowered her voice. “Did you-know-who bring the macarons again?”
“No. But she did the sleigh, and it’s shortbread. All shortbread. I decided to have some wassail. It’s dandy. Do you want some?”
“I’m fine. Let’s get some food.”
“Good idea.”
The sideboard and dining room table groaned with hors d’oeuvres, and the kitchen counter had a series of Crock-Pots serving warm wassail, cocoa, and mulled wine. A cooler on the floor was full of ice, beer, and sodas.
She made sure Lisette had some cheese and water before another glass of wassail. It wasn’t unpleasant to be taking care of her for a change, and to have the strength to do so. The nap earlier in the day had been a good idea.
They found a corner in the living room where they could set down their plates and watch the parade of newcomers and their sweaters.
“You’re still in this, I think.” Lisette seemed a little less tipsy.
“What do I win?”
“Prestige.”
“Not even a bronze pinecone? What a rip-off.”
“That from someone who hates the holidays.”
“I don’t hate them. I’ve never had a reason to love them, as an adult. As a kid they were great. No school, cake, those Lifesavers sample packs that looked like a book. Life was good.”
“And now?”
“I think I’ve been celebrating them the wrong way.”
Lisette sorted through the contents of her plate to get the last morsel of cheese. “It’s never too late to learn new and wonderful things.”
She’s shy. The thought was a revelation. Full of confidence and more than able to assert herself most of the time, this Lisette was clearly nervous.
::But she kissed you.::
I wasn’t expecting her to. No part of her was unhappy that Lisette had done so, though.
She’d lusted for a few women, and the need had been very specific and short-term, no regrets. Lisette was the first woman she was lusting after for conversation. To know how her mind worked, what made her curious and awed. Peri also wanted to know what she could do that would draw that little sound of surprise Lisette had made when they’d kissed.
She hadn’t realized that anyone could make her feel as if she could never learn enough about them. The more she knew about Lisette, the more she wanted to know, and it seemed like there was plenty to know.
I’ve traveled more than she has, but when I mentioned Gibraltar she named three novels where it figured as a setting. That podcast about how the Templars used it sounds fascinating.
::I’ve known better knights than the Templars.::
Of course you have.
All the while they’d been making cookies together, Peri had been memorizing the curve of Lisette’s smile as she talked, watching her hands rolling balls of cookie dough. She’d always thought her vagabond life meant she was like her mother, and that included not wanting a relationship. Sure, and she wasn’t sitting here right now envying the wisp of hair that had escaped from the elegant bun to tickle at Lisette’s cheek.
Is this your fault? I never had ooey-gooey thoughts like this before you.
::You never had thoughts like that before her. She was already in your head when you walked into the diner, remember?::
The party had gotten significantly louder and more crowded when everyone squeezed into the living room for what appeared to be the main festivities. Cookie judging was accomplished quickly by a panel of experts — all teens who knew their food-critic speak. As Lisette had feared, Jody Monk took the Silver Pinecone again with her shortbread sleigh for its “Tender, crispy exterior, buttery crumb, and no soggy bottom.”
“Did you have some of the sleigh?” Peri whispered to Lisette.
“Yes,” Lisette muttered. “It was delicious and perfect.” Her face was flushed, likely from the wassail, and she tugged Peri toward the kitchen. “Let’s go get some more before it’s all gone.”
“We’re supposed to help ourselves?”
“You give, you get. Them’s the rules.”
Tongs and brown paper bags were plentiful, and they weren’t the only ones getting an early start. Lisette made a beeline for someone’s pecan pie bars while Peri decided Lisette’s black-and-white bow tie tuxedo cookies were her priority. There were so many to choose from that her bag was heavy before she’d taken a sample from even half.
She gave over the care of her cookie bag to Lisette during the ugly sweater judging. Peri, proud of herself for not flinching as dozens of strangers gazed at her, scar and all, thought perhaps she’d won the silly thing. That is, until Chelsea appeared suddenly in a ghastly long sweater under which she wore the shortest of shorts, showing off long legs and red galoshes. The sweater itself was lavishly bedazzled with mirrored sequins outlining a bodybuilding Santa on a background of green and red zigzags. There was nothing for Peri to do but graciously bow out.
After that there was holiday karaoke. Lisette and Sansa apparently did “Santa Baby” every year, and she laughed as they competed to out boop-boop-be-doo each other with suggestive wiggles.
Peri’s palms were sweating. She applauded the performance even as she was imagining how Lisette’s skin would feel against hers, and if the fire Lisette gave to defending her principles might show in other ways.
Lisette reclaimed her mug of wassail and drained the last of it. “I think when you eat cookies while drinking wassail the cookies turn into vodka or something. I need tea.”
“I think there’s some in the kitchen.”
“Sansa doesn’t believe in decaf anything. Besides.” She nodded at the signs of leave-taking. “The party is mostly over and after this it’s the sheriff’s office crowd. Lots and lots of shop talk and a person can see Santa Claus Versus the Martians too many times. Don’t tell her I said that.”
“Is there any place open where we could get what you’re looking for?”
Lisette considered for a moment. “The town is locked down by now, even the diner. Do you… Have you ever played Mario Kart?”
Peri had no idea where this non sequitur was headed. “A little, with my nephew.”
“I could make us tea and we could play a few rounds. My dad gave me a whole game system last year like I was twelve. I’ve played it a ridiculous amount.”
Her face flickered with a series of emotions that Peri thought might be both uncertainty and desire, but her mouth slowly curved into a smile. “I’ll take it easy on you.”
Peri couldn’t help it. She leaned closer and said softly. “If that’s the way you want it.”
Lisette blushed to the roots of her hair. “I did not mean — wow, that was not what I was talking about. Right then.”
“And now?”
Lisette was shaking her head as she bit her lower lip. “I’ve had too much wassail.”
“I’m aware.” Peri dropped the teasing air. A one-armed search of the pile on the entry table came up with their coats. “I’ll drive. You’re safe.”
“Yeah, but what about you?”
Peri didn’t know what to make of that. “Why wouldn’t I be safe?”
“Because I–”
“Are you driving Lissy home?” Sansa had left off chatting with other people also getting into their coats to join them.
Peri nodded. “Thank you for a memorable evening.”
“Thank you for donning your gay apparel.” With an I-know-where-to-find-you look at Peri, Sansa opened the front door for them and said to Lisette, “Text me so I know you’re home safe.”
“Of course.” Lisette finished zipping up her jacket and turned a sunny smile on Peri. “Time for tea?”
“Yes.” She waited until she heard the door close behind them before admitting, “I may have looted the cheese board for Mario Kart snacks.”
“Did you get crackers too?”
“Of course. What do you take me for?”
Suddenly serious, Lisette said, “I’m not sure. You’re not like the FBI guy at all.”
“I should hope not. Not FBI. Not a guy.” Peri navigated Lisette down Sansa’s driveway and through the clusters of tightly parked cars.
They were buckled up with the engine running and defroster on full when Lisette turned in her seat. “Tell me the truth. Would you subpoena someone twelve times for nothing?”
Lisette’s stylish bun was coming undone with wisps and curls all around her shoulders. Peri wanted to bury her face in it, but Lisette’s question needed an answer.
“There’s so much real evil to go after.” It was not the time for an ethical debate about when ends justified means. It was inconceivable that Lisette had ever had any information that justified that level of harassment. “What did they hope you’d tell them?”
“For reasons of national security, I had to agree to give them anything they asked for before they’d tell me what they were going to ask for.”
Not suspected of any wrong-doing. Not even a witness to anything. “Like something out of Kafka. What utter bullshit.” Peri put the car in gear and maneuvered out of the tight spot.
Lisette nodded her head emphatically. “That’s exactly what it was. Everyone from the ACLU to the American Library Association said so. If I wrote a book about it I would call that book Utter Bullshit.”
Even tipsy she’s fierce, Peri thought.
::I told you. She is a warrior.::
“I sat in that courthouse for days and days. Time I could have been with my mom in her final illness.”
“I’m sorry.” Peri swallowed hard. Nothing would make that right. Lisette had good reason to be angry and pained when someone like Peri showed up at her door. Did anyone sign up to be a librarian —a public service, civilian career — and think it would require that kind of sacrifice to hold true to their principles? “You thought I was going to put you through all of that again.”
“I did, but you didn’t, so that was good, and so very bad.”
“Run that by me again?”
“I don’t think I will.”
Peri glanced over at her to find Lisette gazing out the window as they passed a light display featuring all the characters from A Charlie Brown Christmas. She had no idea what Lisette was thinking.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“YOU’RE REALLY UP FOR this?” Lisette, after taking a minute to replace her ugly sweater with a simple fleece hoodie, sat down cross-legged on the floor next to Peri. The TV blazed with blue and red racing banners.
Peri had set her name to Doom Buggy and was revving her kart engine. “Sure.”
After a sip from her mug of decaf hot tea, Lisette selected her existing profile for 794DOT822 and adjusted her arms and shoulders until the racing wheel was on her lap exactly the way she liked it at the start of the course. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
The zany music and sound effects were Lisette’s favorite part of the game. She nabbed a coin, took a side jump across the track, and quickened her pursuit of arch-nemesis Waluigi. “This is an old version but it’s still my favorite.”
Peri laughed madly as she turned her wheel back and forth. Lisette glanced at Peri’s display and crowed with glee as she smashed into a series of trees and then through a row of flower beds. Stars and lightning bolts scattered across the screen.
“You’ve never played this before, have you?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“So long, sucker!” She twisted the wheel to skid around the tightest curve on the course, nabbed more coins, and saw the computer-generated nemesis just ahead. Halfway through the last lap she moved into the lead and settled in to bask in her runaway finish. Peri had not stopped laughing and seemed to be enjoying the chaos she was causing at every turn.
“Winning is the object of the game, not mayhem.”
She grinned. “I know.”
Too late Lisette saw that Peri had somehow captured a blue shell. “Damn it! You have played before.” Her wonderful kart slammed into the dreaded blue bubble’s spines, and she watched as Peri coasted past her to the finish line.
“You’re gonna pay for that.”
“I’m counting on it.”
She glanced over at Peri, all too aware that their knees were touching and that the sound of Peri’s unrestrained laughter had been unexpected and welcome. “You sandbagged me, but now I’m onto you.”
“My nephew taught me that one. I haven’t played much, actually.”
“Nope, feigning incompetence is not going to work twice.”
“Dang.”
“Three-two-one-GO!”
The next run of the course was wild with Peri whooping when she passed Lisette once and adding sound effects when she got close enough to throw a banana peel into her path. Lisette returned the banana peel favor and whooped as she made it across the finish line first.
They relaxed against the ottoman behind their backs. The room was finally warming up from the fireplace. Her face felt rosy, and she hoped Peri put it down to the flush of victory or that she was still tipsy, which she was, a little.
Peri winced with a half laugh. “My ribs will be sore tomorrow, but I’m okay with that.”
“Laughter is the best medicine, after actual helpful medicine, that is,” Lisette pronounced. “I hope it’s not too bad.”
“Tolerable.”
“Would you like some more tea?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Cookies?”
“God no.”
She smiled at Peri over her mug, pleased beyond reason at how comfortable and relaxed she seemed. Until she lifted her gaze to Lisette’s, that is.
“If our paths don’t cross sooner.” It was icy cold, but nothing could have made her move. Peri didn’t even seem flustered, which was unfair. Lisette knew her cheeks were redder than the cold could explain. Make a joke, say good night…
Finally, she found the will to turn toward her door as she forced out, “Pleasant dreams.”
“Lisette?”
She turned back to find Peri close behind her. She leaned into Peri’s warmth and the chill of the porch didn’t matter as she pulled Peri close. Peri’s lips were soft with surprise, and Lisette felt her shiver through her coat as Lisette wound her arms around Peri’s shoulders. The soles of her feet were hot.
Peri broke the kiss to lean her forehead against Lisette’s. After a deep sigh she said, amusement in her voice, “I forgot my box of cookies.”
“Oh my goodness.” With a strangled laugh Lisette dashed inside and returned to the porch. “Keep the box level.”
“Thank you.” Her gaze went from the box to Lisette’s face.
She couldn’t move as Peri leaned in to kiss her softly on the lips again before stepping out into the night.
Afterward, she was almost sure she heard Peri say, “Wow,” as she closed the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“IF YOU PRESS HERE on the collar, you get this.” Peri demonstrated and the woefully tinny and off-tune notes of “Jingle Bells” played for far longer than any sane person could tolerate.
Lisette clapped her hands over her mouth with a squeal. “Oh, that’s the worst. Where did you get this sweater?”
They were standing in Sansa’s foyer where all new arrivals handed cookies over to the hostess and submitted to Ugly Sweater inspection.
“The consignment store on Elmwood. Santa cats and drunken reindeer, now that’s something.” The music finally stopped. “Oh thank god.”
“Push it again!” Lisette threatened to.
From around them a chorus of voices shouted, “No!”
Chelsea, who was positively conservative in a simple green sweater with a sequined red collar, nodded sagely as she plucked at Peri’s sleeve. “This will be hard to beat. I mean, this sleeve here, that’s just made up of the ends of different skeins. You don’t see a lot of chartreuse with orange, but it’s the ribbon of muddy puce that brings home the ugly.”
Behind them a new arrival entered, took one look at Peri’s sweater, and bowed. “I’m not worthy.”
“I think Lisette’s sweater is in the running.” Peri gestured and Lisette did a twirl. Peri couldn’t take her eyes off Lisette’s hair pulled back into an elegant knot that coiled at the nape of her neck, or the long, dangling icicle earrings that cast prisms of light onto her pale throat.
But she really couldn’t look away from the searing red sweater with green creatures that were neither puppies nor reindeer. It was draped with gold tinsel garland up and down both arms and tied in a bow across the back. At the very bottom of the sweater in the back, a thick braid of more garland formed a tail that trailed on the ground behind her.
“I tried. The tail is too much, isn’t it?”
Chelsea shook her head. “No, I think you got that just right. You could add some mistletoe though.”
“I’m not that kind of girl,” Lisette said primly. “Even if sometimes I do want to tell people to kiss my ass.”
Peri laughed appreciatively. “Don’t we all.”
“Come look at the cookies.” Lisette grabbed Peri’s hand and pulled her farther into the house.
Peri had the feeling that Lisette had already started on the wassail.
The party spilled from the foyer, down a hallway, into the kitchen, front room, dining room, and family room. It was a more modern house than Lisette’s and organized for entertaining. The kitchen was redolent of cinnamon, nutmeg, and apple, all of which made her stomach growl appreciatively.
“There are so many cookies.” Lisette gestured at the length of an eight-foot folding table.
Tea cookies dusted in powdered sugar, dark brown gingerbread people with hand-painted mittens and scarves, red jam thumbprint cookies. Cookies covered in chocolate and crushed peppermint candy. Toffee-colored peanut butter mice cookies with peanuts for ears and long chocolate tails. In the center was a carefully decorated sleigh complete with a bag of presents, Santa, and eight reindeer. In the midst of it all Peri thought her iced sugar cookies looked okay, but clearly some people took the competition very seriously.
“Those are your tuxedo cookies and cranberry snowflakes.” She lowered her voice. “Did you-know-who bring the macarons again?”
“No. But she did the sleigh, and it’s shortbread. All shortbread. I decided to have some wassail. It’s dandy. Do you want some?”
“I’m fine. Let’s get some food.”
“Good idea.”
The sideboard and dining room table groaned with hors d’oeuvres, and the kitchen counter had a series of Crock-Pots serving warm wassail, cocoa, and mulled wine. A cooler on the floor was full of ice, beer, and sodas.
She made sure Lisette had some cheese and water before another glass of wassail. It wasn’t unpleasant to be taking care of her for a change, and to have the strength to do so. The nap earlier in the day had been a good idea.
They found a corner in the living room where they could set down their plates and watch the parade of newcomers and their sweaters.
“You’re still in this, I think.” Lisette seemed a little less tipsy.
“What do I win?”
“Prestige.”
“Not even a bronze pinecone? What a rip-off.”
“That from someone who hates the holidays.”
“I don’t hate them. I’ve never had a reason to love them, as an adult. As a kid they were great. No school, cake, those Lifesavers sample packs that looked like a book. Life was good.”
“And now?”
“I think I’ve been celebrating them the wrong way.”
Lisette sorted through the contents of her plate to get the last morsel of cheese. “It’s never too late to learn new and wonderful things.”
She’s shy. The thought was a revelation. Full of confidence and more than able to assert herself most of the time, this Lisette was clearly nervous.
::But she kissed you.::
I wasn’t expecting her to. No part of her was unhappy that Lisette had done so, though.
She’d lusted for a few women, and the need had been very specific and short-term, no regrets. Lisette was the first woman she was lusting after for conversation. To know how her mind worked, what made her curious and awed. Peri also wanted to know what she could do that would draw that little sound of surprise Lisette had made when they’d kissed.
She hadn’t realized that anyone could make her feel as if she could never learn enough about them. The more she knew about Lisette, the more she wanted to know, and it seemed like there was plenty to know.
I’ve traveled more than she has, but when I mentioned Gibraltar she named three novels where it figured as a setting. That podcast about how the Templars used it sounds fascinating.
::I’ve known better knights than the Templars.::
Of course you have.
All the while they’d been making cookies together, Peri had been memorizing the curve of Lisette’s smile as she talked, watching her hands rolling balls of cookie dough. She’d always thought her vagabond life meant she was like her mother, and that included not wanting a relationship. Sure, and she wasn’t sitting here right now envying the wisp of hair that had escaped from the elegant bun to tickle at Lisette’s cheek.
Is this your fault? I never had ooey-gooey thoughts like this before you.
::You never had thoughts like that before her. She was already in your head when you walked into the diner, remember?::
The party had gotten significantly louder and more crowded when everyone squeezed into the living room for what appeared to be the main festivities. Cookie judging was accomplished quickly by a panel of experts — all teens who knew their food-critic speak. As Lisette had feared, Jody Monk took the Silver Pinecone again with her shortbread sleigh for its “Tender, crispy exterior, buttery crumb, and no soggy bottom.”
“Did you have some of the sleigh?” Peri whispered to Lisette.
“Yes,” Lisette muttered. “It was delicious and perfect.” Her face was flushed, likely from the wassail, and she tugged Peri toward the kitchen. “Let’s go get some more before it’s all gone.”
“We’re supposed to help ourselves?”
“You give, you get. Them’s the rules.”
Tongs and brown paper bags were plentiful, and they weren’t the only ones getting an early start. Lisette made a beeline for someone’s pecan pie bars while Peri decided Lisette’s black-and-white bow tie tuxedo cookies were her priority. There were so many to choose from that her bag was heavy before she’d taken a sample from even half.
She gave over the care of her cookie bag to Lisette during the ugly sweater judging. Peri, proud of herself for not flinching as dozens of strangers gazed at her, scar and all, thought perhaps she’d won the silly thing. That is, until Chelsea appeared suddenly in a ghastly long sweater under which she wore the shortest of shorts, showing off long legs and red galoshes. The sweater itself was lavishly bedazzled with mirrored sequins outlining a bodybuilding Santa on a background of green and red zigzags. There was nothing for Peri to do but graciously bow out.
After that there was holiday karaoke. Lisette and Sansa apparently did “Santa Baby” every year, and she laughed as they competed to out boop-boop-be-doo each other with suggestive wiggles.
Peri’s palms were sweating. She applauded the performance even as she was imagining how Lisette’s skin would feel against hers, and if the fire Lisette gave to defending her principles might show in other ways.
Lisette reclaimed her mug of wassail and drained the last of it. “I think when you eat cookies while drinking wassail the cookies turn into vodka or something. I need tea.”
“I think there’s some in the kitchen.”
“Sansa doesn’t believe in decaf anything. Besides.” She nodded at the signs of leave-taking. “The party is mostly over and after this it’s the sheriff’s office crowd. Lots and lots of shop talk and a person can see Santa Claus Versus the Martians too many times. Don’t tell her I said that.”
“Is there any place open where we could get what you’re looking for?”
Lisette considered for a moment. “The town is locked down by now, even the diner. Do you… Have you ever played Mario Kart?”
Peri had no idea where this non sequitur was headed. “A little, with my nephew.”
“I could make us tea and we could play a few rounds. My dad gave me a whole game system last year like I was twelve. I’ve played it a ridiculous amount.”
Her face flickered with a series of emotions that Peri thought might be both uncertainty and desire, but her mouth slowly curved into a smile. “I’ll take it easy on you.”
Peri couldn’t help it. She leaned closer and said softly. “If that’s the way you want it.”
Lisette blushed to the roots of her hair. “I did not mean — wow, that was not what I was talking about. Right then.”
“And now?”
Lisette was shaking her head as she bit her lower lip. “I’ve had too much wassail.”
“I’m aware.” Peri dropped the teasing air. A one-armed search of the pile on the entry table came up with their coats. “I’ll drive. You’re safe.”
“Yeah, but what about you?”
Peri didn’t know what to make of that. “Why wouldn’t I be safe?”
“Because I–”
“Are you driving Lissy home?” Sansa had left off chatting with other people also getting into their coats to join them.
Peri nodded. “Thank you for a memorable evening.”
“Thank you for donning your gay apparel.” With an I-know-where-to-find-you look at Peri, Sansa opened the front door for them and said to Lisette, “Text me so I know you’re home safe.”
“Of course.” Lisette finished zipping up her jacket and turned a sunny smile on Peri. “Time for tea?”
“Yes.” She waited until she heard the door close behind them before admitting, “I may have looted the cheese board for Mario Kart snacks.”
“Did you get crackers too?”
“Of course. What do you take me for?”
Suddenly serious, Lisette said, “I’m not sure. You’re not like the FBI guy at all.”
“I should hope not. Not FBI. Not a guy.” Peri navigated Lisette down Sansa’s driveway and through the clusters of tightly parked cars.
They were buckled up with the engine running and defroster on full when Lisette turned in her seat. “Tell me the truth. Would you subpoena someone twelve times for nothing?”
Lisette’s stylish bun was coming undone with wisps and curls all around her shoulders. Peri wanted to bury her face in it, but Lisette’s question needed an answer.
“There’s so much real evil to go after.” It was not the time for an ethical debate about when ends justified means. It was inconceivable that Lisette had ever had any information that justified that level of harassment. “What did they hope you’d tell them?”
“For reasons of national security, I had to agree to give them anything they asked for before they’d tell me what they were going to ask for.”
Not suspected of any wrong-doing. Not even a witness to anything. “Like something out of Kafka. What utter bullshit.” Peri put the car in gear and maneuvered out of the tight spot.
Lisette nodded her head emphatically. “That’s exactly what it was. Everyone from the ACLU to the American Library Association said so. If I wrote a book about it I would call that book Utter Bullshit.”
Even tipsy she’s fierce, Peri thought.
::I told you. She is a warrior.::
“I sat in that courthouse for days and days. Time I could have been with my mom in her final illness.”
“I’m sorry.” Peri swallowed hard. Nothing would make that right. Lisette had good reason to be angry and pained when someone like Peri showed up at her door. Did anyone sign up to be a librarian —a public service, civilian career — and think it would require that kind of sacrifice to hold true to their principles? “You thought I was going to put you through all of that again.”
“I did, but you didn’t, so that was good, and so very bad.”
“Run that by me again?”
“I don’t think I will.”
Peri glanced over at her to find Lisette gazing out the window as they passed a light display featuring all the characters from A Charlie Brown Christmas. She had no idea what Lisette was thinking.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“YOU’RE REALLY UP FOR this?” Lisette, after taking a minute to replace her ugly sweater with a simple fleece hoodie, sat down cross-legged on the floor next to Peri. The TV blazed with blue and red racing banners.
Peri had set her name to Doom Buggy and was revving her kart engine. “Sure.”
After a sip from her mug of decaf hot tea, Lisette selected her existing profile for 794DOT822 and adjusted her arms and shoulders until the racing wheel was on her lap exactly the way she liked it at the start of the course. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
The zany music and sound effects were Lisette’s favorite part of the game. She nabbed a coin, took a side jump across the track, and quickened her pursuit of arch-nemesis Waluigi. “This is an old version but it’s still my favorite.”
Peri laughed madly as she turned her wheel back and forth. Lisette glanced at Peri’s display and crowed with glee as she smashed into a series of trees and then through a row of flower beds. Stars and lightning bolts scattered across the screen.
“You’ve never played this before, have you?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“So long, sucker!” She twisted the wheel to skid around the tightest curve on the course, nabbed more coins, and saw the computer-generated nemesis just ahead. Halfway through the last lap she moved into the lead and settled in to bask in her runaway finish. Peri had not stopped laughing and seemed to be enjoying the chaos she was causing at every turn.
“Winning is the object of the game, not mayhem.”
She grinned. “I know.”
Too late Lisette saw that Peri had somehow captured a blue shell. “Damn it! You have played before.” Her wonderful kart slammed into the dreaded blue bubble’s spines, and she watched as Peri coasted past her to the finish line.
“You’re gonna pay for that.”
“I’m counting on it.”
She glanced over at Peri, all too aware that their knees were touching and that the sound of Peri’s unrestrained laughter had been unexpected and welcome. “You sandbagged me, but now I’m onto you.”
“My nephew taught me that one. I haven’t played much, actually.”
“Nope, feigning incompetence is not going to work twice.”
“Dang.”
“Three-two-one-GO!”
The next run of the course was wild with Peri whooping when she passed Lisette once and adding sound effects when she got close enough to throw a banana peel into her path. Lisette returned the banana peel favor and whooped as she made it across the finish line first.
They relaxed against the ottoman behind their backs. The room was finally warming up from the fireplace. Her face felt rosy, and she hoped Peri put it down to the flush of victory or that she was still tipsy, which she was, a little.
Peri winced with a half laugh. “My ribs will be sore tomorrow, but I’m okay with that.”
“Laughter is the best medicine, after actual helpful medicine, that is,” Lisette pronounced. “I hope it’s not too bad.”
“Tolerable.”
“Would you like some more tea?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Cookies?”
“God no.”
She smiled at Peri over her mug, pleased beyond reason at how comfortable and relaxed she seemed. Until she lifted her gaze to Lisette’s, that is.
