It echoed inside her head, Aunt Zinnia's oft-repeated statement about her mother turning away perfectly good suitors. Aunt Zinnia thought her mother had gotten what she deserved, but then condemned her for getting pregnant from it. And would have condemned her if she had had an abortion, and most certainly did condemn her for having the baby. The baby... her. Having her.

Audra's hands were shaking, but she wasn't done yet.

I can't, Holly thought, I can't take any more. Not right now. But there was more. Her mother had known him, and so had Aunt Zinnia. She might have known him, too, not knowing he was a rapist a" no. Oh no, no, God. She could not stop her mind from solving for the simplest answer.

Audra was just looking at her. Barely above a whisper, she said, "You've figured it all out, haven't you?"

Holly nodded. Realizing how she no longer felt about Clay had been an earthquake, then the desire for women like being struck by lightning. What could this feeling be, then, on top of the others? The thunder of the past rolled over her.

She didn't want to say his name, but found no way to avoid it. "Uncle Bernard."

Audra nodded and reached for the bottle of wine. Holly was flooded with rage. It washed away to emptiness, then she felt as if she burned with molten heat. Her heart pounded, then missed beats. The answer was untenable, unthinkable. Aunt Zinnia had brought the man who had raped and impregnated her mother into their home and made Holly call him Uncle.

What kind of twisted reasoning was that? How had she compelled him? How could she have rationalized it? How had she thought Holly would feel when she knew the truth?

He was dead. She was glad.

Mother, she thought... dear Mother.

"She loved you. The moment she found out about you she was joy itself." Audra was perceptively following her thought process. "She felt that she won, in the end, because she had you and all your love, and all that wonder and joy. Nothing else mattered. She never told him about you, but Zinnia knew a" she knew. And she did what she did."

When Holly didn't answer, Audra looked up from her study of the wine. "Come to the sofa," she said sharply.

The lights seemed to be flickering out as Audra helped her lie down. Then there was only oblivion.

Even after coffee and eggs the next morning, Holly felt empty. The feel of silverware in her hands was remote.

Shock, she supposed. Even considering why she felt this way was a faraway thing, too.

They looked through the rest of the photo albums together. There were math tests and report cards, all ending abruptly just before her twelfth birthday.

"Thank you," was all Holly could say. "You were right to take them. My aunt would have destroyed them." She could not bring herself to say her aunt's name.

"I want you to have them," Audra urged. "Take them because they were always meant to be yours. I have my memories."

"May I come to see you again?"

"I would love it if you would. I a"" Audra stopped, looking lost. "I didn't think I deserved that. We've hardly talked about what's happened to you since she died, and I do so want to know."

"I'm ashamed to tell you," Holly blurted. "I wasted so much." Shamefaced, she told Audra about Clay, and how she had let herself be dominated by him to the point of turning her back on her own spiritual and intellectual growth.

Instead of pity or condemnation, anger flared in Audra's eyes. "That woman actually applauded when you became involved with this man?"

"Well, she wanted us to get married, but other than that, she thought Clay was good for me."

"And he used to be your teacher, and you were how old?"

"I'd just turned eighteen. A few days before." She blushed.

"I'm surprised he waited three days, the creep." Audra's head snapped into its most regal position. Holly easily imagined a room full of intimidated third graders.

"I was the one who initiated the physical side of it," Holly admitted.

"He was the adult, he was the teacher, and he ought to have known better. He should have been censured. How on earth were you supposed to hold your intellectual own against a man that much older and who was trained to penetrate your defenses? He was supposed to seduce your mind to the love of learning, not your body for his own purposes." Her eyes flashed with indignation. "That woman a" she sent you out into the world ignorant of your choices, and she did it deliberately. This is on her, too. She was your... parent then. You are not to blame for choosing badly, when that was all you knew. You are well out of it. You are young, and you can begin again."

Blinded by Audra's loving conviction, Holly felt as if lead bindings had been eased from her heart. "Thank you for that," she said quietly. "A friend tried to tell me and I just about bit her head off." Jo a" she needed to talk to Jo, who had understood more than she had from the beginning.

"Don't let fear rob you of happiness. I chose that path and it's a bad one. You know what carpe diem means, of course."

"Yes. My aunt and Clay both tried to teach me never to seize the day."

"Which is why they are where they are. Time for you to move on."

Finally, Holly found someone she could talk to about all the rest. Someone who would understand. "That's been part of the problem. As soon as I realized that Clay was not the man I thought he wasa""

"A new age, sensitive intellectual fascist?"

Holly found a laugh somewhere. Audra laughed too, and her ears remembered, yes, like deep church bells. "I'll take your word for it." She looked directly into Audra's eyes, and finally said the words. "I'm a lesbian. The moment he was out of my mind, I knew it."

She was not straight anymore.

They talked for hours more. She left Audra with a promise to return next week with curricula and ideas about her future so Audra could play devil's advocate. She needed someone to explore ideas with, not take orders from, and Audra seemed happy to fulfill that role.

Another mother... the thought buoyed her home again. She needed to tell someone this happy news.

She was unlocking the door when Flo called to her. She turned, thrilled by the sight of another lesbian walking toward her. She hoped it would be ages before it happened so often that she took it for granted.

"Nancy's birthday is today and we're throwing together an impromptu soiree for this evening. Can you come? We'll have heaps of snacks and drinks. Just bring yourself."

"I'd love to. What a great idea." A house full of lesbiansa" oh, happy day. She was exhilarated at the prospect because she was not straight anymore.

"Tori and Geena will be there, too, so you'll have a few familiar faces. Come over when you hear the noise 'round eight or so."

She assured Flo she would be there, promised she would not bring a gift of any kind, and went inside to the bathroom mirror and then the phone.

She pressed the numbers without hesitation and found some semblance of calm maturity, though the little kid inside her was whooping at the top of her lungs that she was not straight anymore. After listening to the greeting, she said, "This is Holly Markham, we met at a wedding a few weeks ago. You gave me a condition, and I've met it, I think. I'd certainly like to discuss it further, if you're interested." She recited her new number and hung up. She looked at Galina's card for a long moment, remembering the way it felt when Galina tucked it into her bra, then she carefully let it fall into the wastebasket. The ball was in Galina's court. If she called, great. In the meantime, she was going to a party tonight.

She made a second call, and Jo seemed relieved to hear her voice. "You've no idea the chain reaction you set off," Holly told her. "I hope you're willing to take some responsibility for it." She was teasing and let it show in her voice.

"I certainly will, especially since you sound pretty happy."

"Are you doing anything right now? I need to buy some party clothes. I know it's the last minutea""

"Actually, I was just thinking about going out this afternoon because I can't grade another paper. I'd love to waste some time with you."

"Meet me in the atrium at South Coast Plaza and bring your fashion sense. I need to upgrade." She laughed. How could she be so happy? If she was still in shock she wanted to stay this way forever.

"I'll be there. Can we go into the mall and get some chocolate somewhere? I need chocolate and I need it quickly."

"I would never come between a woman and her chocolate, you know that." They agreed to meet in an hour, and Holly regarded herself in the tiny bathroom mirror after she had hung up.

She took off the vest, took off the Bweater, took off the turtleneck and finally the undershirt. Her jeans went next, and then the long underwear. It wasn't that cold in L.A. It never had been. What had she been hiding under all those layers for?

She rubbed her shoulders, acknowledged the need for a new bra, and told herself the truth. She'd been hiding from desire. She'd been hiding from her body and what her body wanted.

She showered, loving the feeling of her breasts and shoulders and the sensuous delight of slippery shampoo and a thick, rough towel. Her body was waking up a" even her knees felt alive. Her feet wriggled in the warm socks and her butt seemed to shiver at the touch of her underwear. Her breasts filled out the super-cleavage bra, and she put on only an old, soft, button-up shirt in a pleasing deep green, and a fresh pair of jeans. What could be more pro-humanist than appreciating the feel of one's own skin?

She had looked at pictures of her mother and found her beautiful. She now stared at herself in the mirror and admitted they looked very much alike, but she had never thought of herself as particularly attractive. But when X equals X, she had to accept the truth. It seemed immodest, but all in all, she wasn't that bad. Regardless, she didn't need to lose fifteen pounds. She was fine the way she was. Just fine.

Jo hugged her and Holly hugged her back. They stayed that way for longer than they ever had before. Holly liked the smell of Jo's shampoo.

"Thanks for forgiving me," Jo whispered in her ear.

"Thanks for saying something. You changed everything," Holly whispered back.

They separated, but still held hands, and regarded each other. Shoppers parted and merged around them. Jo suddenly lit up with the smile of joy that had surprised Holly only two weeks ago. Now Holly knew what it was. She felt the jolt in her pelvis of what might have been and took the initiative.

"What's her name?" Holly could see her own helpless grin reflected in Jo's eyes.

"Sandi. Your turn."

"No name. But there will be. I've only begun looking, you know."

Jo let go of her hands. "We were both idiots, you know. It might have worked out."

"We'd have fought all the time."

"Yeah," Jo acknowledged. "But maybe not."

Holly said more seriously, "I need a good friend right now."

"So do I," Jo said. She took Holly's face in her hands, right there in the mall atrium, and kissed her.

It was sweet and they tried to make it something more, but the moment Holly felt Jo's tongue she snickered, then Jo giggled and their mouths parted.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," Jo admitted. "It turned out goofy."

"And then some. Shall we go shopping?"

"Tops or bottoms," Jo said with a laugh.

"What?"

"You know, clothes?" Jo was still laughing as she led the way toward the shops.

"I have the feeling I missed a sexual reference," Holly admitted. "Would you care to explain it to me?"

"You were always naive," Jo commented. She forged into the nearest women's clothing store and had to shout over the music. "I'll admit that when I was with Rod it wasn't half bad. I read Cosmo, you know. Well, I used to. Now I'm more of an On Our Backs girl. Top and bottom are positions, you nit."

Holly's face burned. "I know that."

"Tops and bottoms are the people who like those positions in bed, not literally perhaps, but certainly figuratively."

"Oh." Holly smiled serenely at a younger woman who was avidly eavesdropping while she flicked through choices of slacks. "How do I know which I am?"

"How should I know?" Jo held up a pair of navy blue gabardine pants. "These would make my ass look enormous, wouldn't they?"

"How should I know?" Holly stuck her tongue out at Jo.

Jo put the pants back. "You don't have to be either a" you don't have to be anything. You wouldn't pass for butch, but you're not really femme either. But you don't have to choose a label of any kind. Some people like them, some don't. Some like leather and whips and toys, and some like candlelight and walks on the beach. Some like all of the above."

"So here's the question." Holly feigned interest in electric green leggings, but she was utterly focused on Jo. "How do you figure it out? Do you just. . . you know . . . sleep around?" She stopped because she was blushing and Jo was laughing at her.

"You sound sixteen, Holls."

"I know. I feel it, too. I feel like a frankin' virgin. I just want to choose wisely, this time."

"Hey, those would look nice."

Holly regarded the deep purple cotton-wool blend slacks she had absently picked up. "You're right. They're my size." She started to turn toward the dressing room, but Jo stopped her.

"That's always been your problem, you know. You find something that might be okay and you stop looking for something better."

Holly thought it over. "I'll try it your way for a while."

New slacks and a new shirt, new undies, new earrings a" it all added up to a new attitude. The new undies had been a must after Jo shrieked at the sight of her utilitarian white panties and informed her that even cotton came in shades other than white. They migrated from clothes to chocolate to dinner while Jo gave Holly a crash course in Lesbian 101. Tops and bottoms, that was the easy part. The question of butch and femme was much more complex. The sheer variety of toys, and the casualness with which Jo referred to them all, left Holly feeling prudish. She didn't think she'd ever stop associating lube with automobiles, and never in her life had she heard fist used as a verb.

"I've saved you months of research. Maybe that's not such a good thing. Research can be very fun. Oh la la." Jo had obviously enjoyed her role of mentor. She ordered a Cobb salad and the server hurried to the next table.

"No, I appreciate it." Holly tore off a slice of steaming bread. "It's a bit overwhelming. I know so little about sex with men to begin with that I don't have any reference point."

"I think you're better off, if you want to know the truth. You won't be thinking in terms of who's the man and who's the woman. The first time I was with a woman, I kept thinking she had to be the man. You know, because I was the woman. As if a man was necessary even though we were both women." She rolled her eyes expressively.

"I know what you mean. I was at a wedding recently, gosh, just a couple of weeks ago. I suddenly pictured myself as the bride, and it was definitely a woman at the altar with me, but I thought of her automatically as the groom."

"You'll get past that, like I did. Just find out what you like, listen to your bodya""

"How? I'm... I've changed a lot in the last two weeks. But not so much that I can just toddle off to bed with a variety of women for research. I think I'd have to work my way up to that, and I'm not sure I'd ever get there."

"It's not a clinical study, you know."

"I'm aware of that. Okay, so you told me about the U-Haul syndrome. What if I fall in love with the first woman who sleeps with me? How will that be any different than what happened with Clay?"

"Hopefully you'll have an orgasm for the first time in your life." Jo glanced up. "Thanks," she said to the server.

Holly knew she was blushing again, and she waited to speak until after the server had set down their drinks and rapidly departed. "Thank you for informing the restaurant."

"I still can't believe you never have. Are you sure?"