She called on the reporter from the Register next. "What did you mean when you said that Reyna Putnam no longer existed?"

"I am honoring my mother by changing my last name back to hers. At the same time I'm changing my life focus. Reyna Putnam's work is over. I'll be stepping away from politics for a while."

"Is it because you don't want to support your father?"

She had a carefully scripted answer for that question, the one her father had dreaded most. She was aware that many of the press representatives were here hoping to catch a nuance of his future intentions. "My father will not be surprised to learn that my ideology differs from his on many issues, particularly those surrounding full and equal civil rights for gay Americans. Nevertheless, as I said, I wish him the best of luck should he decide to run for public office."

When she had gone back to her mother's room, after a completely unnecessary CAT scan and other obnoxious tests, an armistice had been reached. Her father had only one stipulation. Reyna's coming out would be handled carefully, allowing him time to prepare. They had spent the next three days overhauling all of the Putnam Institute's position papers on gay rights, moving carefully toward more moderate positions. Reyna still hated the words she wrote, but there had been some healing for her in the exhausting process. On Thursday afternoon she had given an exclusive interview to The Advocate, which had then leaked it to the Los Angeles Times in time for the Friday morning news cycle. Her announcement of a 3 p.m. press conference had brought the media running, eager for a story for the evening news.

"Now that you're a lesbian, do you have a girlfriend?"

Reyna knew for a fact that the A.R reporter who asked the question was a lesbian. She happily told her the truth. "I have been a lesbian for my entire adult life. I'm not answering any questions more personal than that."

Reyna had not wanted a media circus, but her father had convinced her that if she wanted to be left alone she had to get the inevitable confrontation with the press out of the way. Grip Putnam's daughter coming out of the closet was news enough, given his well-known ties to groups like Danforth Hobson's. But the media interest had been carefully stirred up by persistent rumors that her father was going to run for president. Reyna thought of it as the beginning of her penance. After all that she had done to lure gay people to ex-gay ministries, to argue against their rights to legalize their relationships and form their own families, becoming an emblem of the changing times was fitting. If her father was lauded as an example of compassionate, tolerant, loving fatherhood, then so be it. Let him be an example to other parents. The irony would always secretly amuse her.

The A.P. reporter lobbed follow-up questions at her. "Didn't you do research for American Values for Family? Didn't you write position papers on their behalf against same-sex marriage, against gay adoptive parents and against hate crimes legislation?"

"Reyna Putnam wrote those on behalf of clients whose politics mirrored that of the Putnam Institute's." What a cop-out, she thought. She quickly added, "Those groups are no longer clients and I disavow every word I ever wrote on those issues. I say that personally. I am not speaking for my father. As I said, there are some issues we disagree about." She shot him a glance where he stood unobtrusively to her right.

His lips twitched and she saw what could only be a glimmer of pride in his eyes.

She grinned. "I suggest that you ask him all about that when he takes the microphone in a few minutes. Lots of questions about exactly where he stands on his daughter's civil rights."

There was a ripple of laughter as her father returned her smile. They could be adversaries without being enemies, she supposed. When she stopped hating him.

Her press conference came to a close when her father took the stage. She stood behind him while he fielded questions about her, then stepped off the dais when the questions turned to his political future. He tantalized the reporters with maybes and no one seemed to notice that she was slipping out the door.

She left the echoing halls of the institute for the last time, she hoped, and left Reyna Putnam behind as well.

There was sunshine on her face. All the pressure of the last few days seeped away.

She was alone.

She was free to think, to want, to dream. And her dreams turned to Holly. She had buried her dreams, but the memory of Holly had kept her moving forward. She had desperately needed to put this life behind her before there could be any tomorrows that meant anything.

She had asked Holly to go away, just before they made her get undressed for their stupid tests. She had started to explain, but Holly simply said, "I understand." But how could she have understood anything? She couldn't have known that Reyna's mind had already turned to the inevitable media circus and protecting Holly's privacy. She didn't want anyone to know Holly's name or who she was to Reyna.

A light spring breeze cooled her cheeks and she closed her eyes for a moment. Who was Holly to Reyna? More importantly, who was she to Holly? They hardly knew each other and yet Reyna could picture them twenty years in the future, sailing into a rising sun. She did not deserve it, but had to find the courage to reach out for it. But Holly could easily want no part of Reyna's tainted history, or the politics and the media.

She opened her eyes and let the green of the canyon soothe her. She did not even know where Holly lived. She was so tired. Something to eat, some sleep and then she would find her.

There was a man leaning against the car she would shortly be returning to the leasing service. She hesitated, then recognized him.

She waited to speak until she was leaning against the car next to him. "I suppose you're happy with yourself."

"As a matter of fact, I am."

"You had to quit your job."

"A point of honor." He lit a cigarette.

"Those are bad for you," she said primly.

"I know." He put away his lighter and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. "This is her address. I wrote out the directions."

Damned, interfering man. She could grow to love him. "Thank you. I didn't know how I was going to find her. I asked her to go, but I'm not sure she understood why."

"Probably not. I have a file on her if you want it."

"Not interested."

"I didn't think you would be, but I thought I'd make the offer. When were you going to see her?"

"Tomorrow. I need some sleep really badly."

Marc finished his cigarette and ground it to powder on the asphalt. "You might want to go now."

"Could you be more specific?"

"She bought a ticket to Australia two days ago. She leaves around midnight."

Stunned, Reyna fumbled for her keys. "What's in Australia?"

"I thought you didn't want her file."

"I don't a" get off the car." She got in and slammed the door. Once the engine was running she lowered the window. "What's in Australia?"

"Her future, I would guess."

"Damn." She backed out quickly and screeched for home. She wouldn't go to Holly in a business suit that epitomized what Reyna Putnam had been. She made a lightning change, then drove to the bike shop.

"I wouldn't want to forget to send a check, so I thought I should just pay four months in advance." Holly handed the check to Flo, who tucked it into her account book.

"It's been lovely having you about. Nancy is quite smitten."

Holly laughed. "That's a flattering idea, but not true."

"She's been a big grouch since you said you were going, but she'll be relieved when I tell her that you've paid the rent, so that means you'll be back sometime."

"It could be in a few weeks, or maybe not for months.

It depends on their funding, what I know and what they want to learn."

"It sounds a treat." Flo held out a sheet with some names and addresses on it. "These are old friends who moved to Australia years ago, and I've told them you might call. You won't know a soul and they're all nice women."

"Ever the matchmaker." Nancy had come in from her studio in the garage. "She's not happy unless the world is paired off."

"Which is lucky for you," Flo said.

Nancy wrinkled her nose at her, then turned back to Holly. "Hey, I found a new joke on the Internet. How do you know you've been living with a mathematician too long?"

Holly snickered. Nancy had been peppering her with jokes ever since she had told her about dart theory and Ramsay numbers. "I have no idea. Tell me."

"Her habit of converting everything to base seven is getting on your nerves because she does it thirty-three hours a day, ten days a week."

Holly laughed. She felt happy inside, at least the part she let feel anything. She was glad to be going to Australia, glad for an opportunity to prove herself and begin more serious studies. The cocoon had burst and now she knew she could fly. She would not let anything put a shadow on that. She would not look on her future through a dark sadness. It took monumental effort to think positive, but she hoped it would get easier when she was airborne.

Nancy reminded her of when they had agreed to leave for the airport that evening. Holly was saying good-bye when she heard the slow rumble of a motorcycle. The pitch seemed familiar. Her spine stiffened as she realized the sound came from directly in front of the house.

She hurried back to her cottage. Her thighs remembered the vibration of the bike. If it was Reyna... It couldn't be. Reyna had asked Holly to go, without tears or apparent regrets. She was free of the trap she had been in, and Holly accepted that Reyna had no reason to pursue anything with her. She was no longer required to find comfort with just anyone who happened to agree to go to a motel with her.

She was closing the door when the bike turned into the driveway. The vision of Reyna in her long, leather jacket shattered her composure. What could Reyna want? Not... not anything Holly could possibly give her.

The bike suddenly ceased its rumble. Holly realized that Flo and Nancy would have heard it. They'd be wondering who Reyna was and why she was sitting on a motorcycle outside Holly's cottage. Not that it would take a mathematician to discern the answers.

She opened the door. Reyna was hooking her helmet onto one handlebar. She looked up as Holly stepped into the sunshine.

Holly thought Reyna wanted to say something. She knew she should speak, be civil, ask her to come inside. But anything could be construed as an invitation for more, and she didn't want Reyna to think that was all she was. She was more than a hungry, eager woman, and she wasn't thinking only about how to get Reyna naked and into bed, and quickly. Oh damn.

She took a step forward just as Reyna did, then another, and faster, until her arms were around Reyna and Reyna's mouth was on hers. The kiss rocked her like the first one had, like every kiss since. It shocked her breasts, her toes, her heart, and she gave herself over to it without reservation.

It mattered more, this time, that she was acting in conflict with decisions she had made. Her mind had more strength of will than before, and she finally lifted her head, intending to say that her future was in Australia.

Reyna murmured, "I didn't mean to start here, but every time I see you I want to kiss you first thing. But I came here to talk. About us."

"There's an us? You wanted me to leave, so I did."

"I didn't want you to leave, but it was necessary."

"Why?" Then she kissed Reyna again because she couldn't stand having her so close and not be kissing her.

Their mouths tangled and teased. Holly realized she was panting.

"You had to go. If you had stayed I would never have let you leave again. You'd have been discovered by the media." She gestured at Flo's garden. "They'd have trampled all this while waiting for a glimpse of you, or the chance to ask you vapid questions about me. I wanted to spare you that, if I could."

"Oh." That had not occurred to Holly as a possible reason for Reyna's behavior. "I wasn't... I didn't know if..." She kissed her again, lips so soft and somehow taut, pressing against her own with a firm intention that made Holly tremble. She remembered those lips moving in more intimate places.

Reyna's tongue began to tease hers, hinting at what might be possible if they went inside. Holly could feel yes building in her again, and didn't want it to be this way. She searched her desire and she wanted Reyna in every way she could imagine, but if it all happened she would still want more. But there was no more than the sex.

"You're going to Australia," Reyna murmured. "I had to see you before you left."

She didn't know how Reyna found out, and ought to have been at least a little bit outraged that someone had been snooping into her personal affairs again. But she was also oddly touched that Reyna had cared enough to find out what she was doing. Reyna's hands were like fire through her shirt. Holly loved the sensation. She wanted to have it again and again, but she was going away. From far off, sounding kissed and eager for more, she heard herself say, "There's a good chance I might be able to get a scholarship to do part or all of my master's studies there." She swallowed, wanted Reyna's fingers on her lips. "I don't have to go."

"Don't be ridiculous," Reyna said. "Of course you have to go."

Two mutually exclusive emotions swamped her, making it hard to think. She was angry that Reyna did not want her to stay and relieved that Reyna understood and supported how important it was for her to go. "I know. I don't want to get on the plane right now. But when I wake up tomorrow I might feel differently."

Reyna blinked back tears. "I know hardly anything about you. I can't believe that you still respect me after what I've donea""

"I understand why."

"I want you," Reyna said brokenly. "Can we go inside? I understand there's no tomorrow. Do you have a few hours?"

"Yes," Holly said, glad she was already packed. She pulled Reyna after her and they twined behind the closed door, eager and hungry, hands unbuttoning and easing zippers down until they were skin to skin, need to need.

It was what she wanted, but the pressure of time was too much for Holly. Her tears would not hold back. Abruptly, she realized they were mingling with Reyna's. "I can't go." She cried into Reyna's shoulder.

"I won't let you give up this chance. You have to go."

"Come with me, then."

"I want to. I have no job now, just a strong desire to write about the disgusting people I helped and why I did it, and the truth about how ex-gay ministries are run." Reyna stroked Holly's face as if she would never stop. "I have to get all of that out of my system. I can do that anywhere. Australia a" with you a" sounds like heaven ... oh ..."

Holly brushed her fingers over Reyna's breasts, then her mouth was on them, eager for the way they seemed to swell when she kissed them. It was such a brilliant vision, to explore a new land and a new future with Reyna.

But she knew that Reyna couldn't leave Irvine. When she could bear not to be tasting Reyna's skin, she whispered into her neck, "Your mother needs you. I understand."

"She's dying," Reyna answered softly. "I spent these past years fighting the desire to know when it would happen. I hated myself for it. I can't let anything put me in that place again."

"I don't want to do that to you. I won't go."

"I won't let you stay. I have no right to stand in the way of your dreams."

Holly fought back the tears, her heart still fighting with her head. It was a seventeen-hour flight. Not exactly a weekend jaunt that either of them could hop on even once a month. She had wondered how what she felt for Reyna was different than the impetuous emotions that had led to a dead end with Clay, and now she knew. Reyna wanted her to become who she dreamed of being. That Reyna would let her go away made her want to stay.

Stay or go a" the equation of her future wanted solving. She had all the information she needed. Reyna was kissing her again, her mouth suggesting so many sensations that Holly could not resist. She offered what she could, having grown up enough to finally understand that dreams have no substitutes. "I have a few hours," she murmured. "The bedroom is upstairs."

Reyna gasped. "Thank you," she said, and followed her up the stairs, never letting go of her hand. They didn't let go of each other for a minute, not once, always touching, prolonging the connection that would be too soon severed. Their tears became a part of the way they loved each other for the few hours they had. Holly tried to make them enough, but no matter how she constructed the formulas, they did not add up to tomorrow.

16.

Holly, four Months Later "Anything to declare?"

Holly handed over her itemized list. She had a lot of souvenirs after four months, everything from clothing to books to an awesome aboriginal mask that she knew Audra would like.

She was tired in every pore. The seventeen-hour flight was grueling, even with three movies and comfortable seats that reclined almost enough for proper sleep. Her MP3 player batteries had died two hours ago, but she doubted that even the Gypsy Kings at full volume could perk her up.

She used a credit card to pay the duties on her declaration and slung her backpack onto her shoulder. With effort she got the luggage cart moving, precariously balancing her suitcases and the extra boxes she had brought with her.

Nancy had e-mailed that everything was fine in her cottage. The weather was all southern California summer, hot and glorious. Through the thick airport glass she could see that it was true, but she had left behind the mild beginnings of the Australian autumn. Her eyes wanted vivid blue sea, too, and a sky that was open and immense overhead. It was confusing to her body, but bodies were meant to adapt. She would still have strawberries whenever she wanted them.

If everything went as planned, Nancy would be waiting at the curb to take her home. If anything had come up since the last time they had connected, it would be Tori waiting.