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not have missed a second of her years with Dizz. She was obsessed and she knew it But she loved Dizz with all her being. She would always love her, even if George came back—even if Dizz left her.
    There was a light rap at the door. It opened and Dizz stood there glowing. She had changed into a crisp blue dress that caught her essence and elaborated on it. She looked all soft and warm and ready to be loved. It was long minute before Chris had the strength to sit up and get off the bed.
    "Darling," Chris whispered. "You... you..." There were no words for what she was feeling. It stuck in her throat. It blinded her.
    "Chris," the low voice vibrated. "I'm sorry I got upset about George. You know I didn't mean it." She moved very close to Chris, so close their thighs were touching and their breasts. "Darling, you do forgive me?"
    Chris would have forgiven her a knife in the ribs. "Of course I do." She stood still, afraid to breathe, afraid Dizz would move suddenly and leave her alone.
    "Darling," Dizz said, oh so tenderly. "Kiss me, darling." I'm going mad, Chris thought. Stark, raving mad.
    Chris put her arms around Dizz and gently held her tight. She kissed her and Dizz returned the kiss. They stayed close for a long time. "Dinner's getting cold," Dizz murmured in her ear. "Hmm. I guess it is," Chris murmured back. She could not let go of Dizz. She felt she might faint.
    Dizz took her hand and led her out to the kitchen. Chris did not protest. She could put up with George, with anything—just so long as once in a while Dizz would look at her like that and touch her.
    Nor did she question when Dizz got in bed beside her that night and snuggled close. They had spent a quiet evening of being pleased with each other. Too happy to think, Chris had let herself be mesmerized by the nearness, the very existence of Dizz.
    She did not try to make love to Dizz. Being beside her in the dark, holding her close, pressing her lips to the baby soft hair was a more exquisite joy.
    It was just before she fell asleep that Chris realized what was wrong. That it was only when she had found something new to interest her that Dizz knew content. And that the interest must be indeed profound to have produced an evening like this one.
    Chris knew a moment of fear. She shivered in the suddenly cold room and pressed herself tight against the girl.

CHAPTER 3
    Chris finished her third cup of coffee and lit a cigarette. She had been sitting at the kitchen table for a half hour. She was fascinated. Dizz was cleaning out the oven, cleaning out drawers, cleaning out the sink. Dizz was cleaning and enjoying it.
    "Chris, come get that platter down for me, will you?" Dizz paused to smile at her, then dampened the sponge in her hand and went back to the stove.
    "Are we expecting company?" Chris said as she unwound from the chair and stood up. She walked to the cupboard and stretched to reach the platter. She set it on the table and returned to the chair.
    "Not that I know of," Dizz answered. "I'm full of energy, that's all. You know I like to keep the house clean for you."
    Chris picked the cigarette up from the ashtray and took a long drag. "What's the platter for?"
    "Turkey. We haven't had it for ages. I thought you'd like it for a change." Dizz came over to the table and stood looking at her. She reached out a hand and ruffled the close-cropped hair on Chris' head. "Honey, in case it doesn't show, I like you sometimes."
    Chris did not answer. It was too good to last, she knew, but why not enjoy it while she could?
    The phone rang in the living room and Dizz moved to answer it. "I'll get it," she said.
    Chris sat quietly smoking, not listening to the conversation. She knew without being told that the hiatus had ended. She wanted to drain it of every precious moment. She could not think beyond the second, beyond the reality of caressing Dizz and, for that second, possessing her.
    Dizz came back into the kitchen and sat down facing Chris. She seemed suddenly