Lexington Connection by M. E. Logan Page B

than him live alone and me live alone, why shouldn’t we live together?” And that was true for her, as far as she went.
    There was some small relief in Jessie’s eyes but there was also pain and guardedness. “If you don’t want to say anything,” Diana said carefully, aware that she was close to breaking her own rules for living in the here and now, “that’s fine. On the other hand, I’m a good listener and you know you won’t have to face me with the knowledge you’ve spilled secrets. I know sometimes that makes it easier to talk.”
    Jessie nodded. “I know.” She wouldn’t look up at Diana. “It just touches a lot of things and I haven’t really been able to talk about it.”
    Diana immediately thought of any number of things a woman wouldn’t be able to talk about. Her little sister was really her daughter. She had an incestuous relationship with her father. Her mother didn’t die, she ran away with Jessie’s boyfriend. Her father was abusive and she was guarding her sister.
Stop it
, she told her galloping imagination.
You’ve been reading too many lurid novels, too many tabloids, watched too many soap operas. Stop and listen to her because if she talks, you really need to listen.
    “I guess you would say I’m waiting.” She drank some of the wine, stared at the glass. Diana knelt beside the picnic basket and pulled out the plates, the crackers and cheese. She laid them out, set the plate close to Jessie and sat back down. She was interested in whatever could upset this calm, self-contained woman.
    “For?” Diana finally ventured to ask.
    “When I was in college,” Jessie finally said slowly. “I met someone.” She glanced up at Diana and Diana nodded, encouraging. “I mean, I knew about myself and I had fooled around some but I was waiting.”
    “For the special someone,” Diana supplied when Jessie paused again.
    “Yes,” and there was relief in her voice that Diana understood.
    “And that was?”
    “Julie.”
    “Julie.” All right, Diana thought. Throw away all the soap opera ideas and think instead that Julie really did a number on you. “And Julie hurt you?”
    “No.” Jessie looked up in quick denial. “Julie would never do that.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry. Wrong guess,” Diana apologized.
Well, that was a quick defense,
she thought, more curious now. “Tell me,” she commanded. “I mean, we’ve got the afternoon, don’t we? And you haven’t talked about Julie to anyone, have you?”
    Jessie had this puzzled expression. “It doesn’t bother you that I would talk about another woman?”
    Diana smiled. “Honey, you and I have this thing: when we’re here, we’re
here
. Otherwise, we have lives that don’t include each other. For whatever reason, that’s been working for us. You want to talk about Julie; what have I got to lose by listening?” She watched Jessie mull this over. She took a cracker and cheese, nibbled on it, as she let Jessie think. “I take it Julie’s no longer in your life?” she asked after what she thought was a sufficient amount of time.
    Jessie shook her head. Clearly this was difficult for her.
    Diana was curious now; at the same time, she was inviting confidences she had no intention of reciprocating. “Honey, if you don’t want to talk about this, it’s okay. We can have a marvelous picnic.”
    “No,” Jessie said reluctantly. “It’s just, you’re right. I haven’t talked about Julie to anyone. And,” she looked up at Diana, still putting things together, “we do have this strange thing, don’t we? I feel more comfortable with you, and it’s because I know we can have a great time and then you’re gone. You’re not in the rest of my life. We have these great times in bed and that’s it.”
    Most women want more, Diana thought as she sipped her wine. I know why it’s good for me. I wonder why it’s good for you.
    “We met at a ballgame,” Jessie started slowly.
    Diana lay down on her side, her head propped up on her