The last two words made Temple wince in memory . "Those two guys were brute force, all right, up close and personal."
Matt stepped nearer and lowered his voice. "Are you going to group?"
"Going to group! That's so California, Matthew." Temple looked up at Matt in the sh ade. This was defi nitely one way to get closer to Matt Devine, and she certainly wanted to do that, didn't she?
"Group therapy is not exclusive to California, and my name isn't short for Matthew." He sounded a little stiff, even a little miffed. Temple's sur prised silence forced a further revelation. "My name is . . . Matthias."
"Oh." Matthias was an odd name; was that why it both ered him? Temple decided to move past the issue. "It still shortens to 'Matt ' and couldn't I see a counselor solo?"
"Sure ." Matt relaxed into his usual good humor once back on neutral ground. ''But then y ou wouldn't hear the stories of people who've been through the same thing as you have."
"Most of them haven't ." Matt's smooth face roughened as he began to object. "I know they've been attacked," Temple said quickly, "but by muggers or husbands and significant others, however nasty. How many other people in 'group' are going to have to own up to getting creamed by a couple of professional thugs intent on beating information out of them? They won't bel ieve me. In fact, I have a hard time believing me."
Matt's smile was rueful. "I've never known anyone who was so outright embarrassed at being the target of a crime, but I 'l l bet there are a couple just li ke you in that group therapy session. That's why you need to put your own expe rience in perspective. And this is an all-women's group."
"I'll look like a crybaby compared to people who've been really abused. Rape victi m s--"
"Survivors," Matt corrected. "We're trying to get away from reinforcing the victim feeling. You're a survivor."
"Survivor, I guess if I can survive interrogations by Lieutenant Molina, I can survi ve playing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle with you. Okay, Coun selor. I'm ready. Let the games begin."
Matt's manner became all business, as if a screw at the top of his head had tightened. Temple, still sheepish about what she was trying to do and the costume she had to wear to do it, realized that the martial arts were serious stuff to him.
"First." he said. " Are you pretty much recovered physi cally? No sore spots?"
Temp le nodded. "Amazingly recovered, I can see how abused women keep hoping the abuse will stop."
"You don't have any old injuries, say, from high school , a broken wrist or anything?"
Temple shook out her arms in the long sleeves. "Not yet."
"You won't break anything here. That's why the pads. You said you wer en't at hletic in school. What about at home, in your family? Did you have any brothers and sist ers to tussle with?"
"Not in the physical way ." Temple let her head wag from side to side in resignation . "You sound like Molina during an interrogation. Yes, Officer , I had brothers and sisters; two each. And, no, we didn't go at it much, for fun or for fu ry, becau se I was--naturally--the youngest, and the littlest.
With eight years between me and the next youngest, obviously my siblings were too grown-up to have much to do with me --other than providi ng endless icky clothes to hand down."
"So you were almost an only child; that's interesting."
"To a counselor, maybe, to me, no, you know how they say parents over control the fi rst child and loosen up for the later ones? Well, I was such a tail on the dragon that my parents got neurotic all ove r again. In fact, my brothers and sisters all joined in, when th ey weren't bequeathing me cloth ing in lousy taste. Everybody knew what was best for me, except me."
"Sounds like you were the apple of the whole family's eye.
"Yup, My father called me 'Ladybug' till l left home. And when I flew away from home and left Minneapolis with Max--they went ballistic."
"They sound a little smoth ering. Try to direct your frus tration with your family in to what we're doing here. Redi rect the irritation into action. A nd remember, I 'm not going into the 'Kong F u' mystical s tuff. These are just some moves you can use to get an attacker off balance."
"Will I be able to throw you over my shoulder?"
"Eventually," he promised with a smile.
She sighed, looked around again for witnesses, found none, and then gr imaced. "Just don't call me 'Grasshopper.' "
Temple padded barefoot int o the Circle Ritz and up to her apartment. She hated to "pad. " It made her feel like a child who'd gotten out of bed to ask for a glass of water, like she had to ask permission of someone for whatever she wanted.
Matt had been right. She was more deeply irritated by her family's over protectivene ss than she knew. When she drew on that ancient annoyanc e, pretending to be Nancy Ninja didn't feel that weird. Not that she'd get to the stage of tossing him that quickly.
In her bedroom she fought the fabric knot and won, Round One for the lit tle lady in bare feet. When she shrugged off the--wha t was it, a uniform, a costume?--Gi, the unfurling fabric released th e scent of her own sweat, faint and plea santly pungent rather than reek ing.
Temple changed into aqua knit shorts and top, and then slid her bare feet into cork-soled wedgies two-and-a-half-inches high at the h eel. Did she feel more self-confi dent-- any more vindicated, or vindictive? Had she made a breakthrough in her slo-mo relationship with her attractive but elusive neighbor? Maybe.