MORE THAN THE MOON

by A Rosendale

  * * *

  The sound and scent of sizzling bacon roused Alma. It was a foreign occasion from her perspective here in bed. Brow furrowed, she threw back the covers, discovered she was still wearing the same clothes as the previous day, and marched into the living room. She froze at the sight of Dirk bending over the stove. His long sleeved shirt was untucked and a pair of white socks hung floppily on his feet.

  Clearing her throat hastily, she greeted, “Good morning.”

  The lazy smile on his face as he turned around sent warmth coursing through her. He leaned back against the counter with hands planted on either side, spatula grasped leisurely between two fingers.

  “Morning.”

  “I fell asleep during the movie?” Alma guessed with a shy grin.

  He nodded. “I hope it wasn’t too presumptuous that I stayed the night. I slept on the couch.”

  “No. I’m glad you stayed. What do you have going in here?” She crossed the open layout to the wide kitchen.

  “Just some bacon and eggs. Any requests?”

  “That’s sounds perfect! Orange juice?” Without waiting for a reply, she extracted a jug from the fridge and filled two cups.

  Dirk finally gave in to his longing and reached over to brush a rogue strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes brightened to the shade of frost clouding the windows and she smiled tenderly. The brief contact was broken when he turned to flip the bacon.

  “This is quite different from how I spent snow days in my youth.”

  “How’s that?” Alma took her orange juice to the other end of the counter and jumped onto the empty surface to watch him cook.

  The offhand action distracted him momentarily. “Well, rather than spending my day in the company of a gorgeous woman, I fed cattle and horses, rode out to check watering holes to make sure they hadn’t froze over, and chopped firewood. Oh, I built the occasional snowman,” he hurried to add at her sympathetic expression. In the early hours this morning, after he’d carried Alma to bed, he’d sat by the window and watched the snow. It had the same cleansing effect on the city that wind held. But snow provided seclusion from the world. He knew millions occupied the city, but in the midst of the nor’easter, it felt as if he and Alma were the only beings for miles. He’d cherished that sensation as a child in Montana. Granted, his family lived miles from the nearest neighbor. Yet snow made him feel like he was all alone in the world, navigating the plains of Earth, the master of his own destiny. He equated it to being in his own personal snow globe.

  “How did you entertain yourself on snow days?” he asked as he dished bacon and eggs onto a plate.

  “I built an entire army of snowmen in my day. And spent the day drinking hot cocoa and helping my mom manage whatever animals she happened to be caring for at the time.”

  Dirk shot her a sideways grin. “Never a dull moment in Friday Harbor, eh?”

  Alma laughed. “Never.”

  * * *

  “Do you want to play cards?” Alma asked after breakfast.

  “Sure. I’m up for some Up and Down the River.”

  She paused mid-step, her face a mask of perplexity. “Come again?”

  Her expression made him laugh out loud. “It’s a card game. Maybe a little hard for two people, but I can teach it to you.”

  Alma shrugged and proceeded to her room to retrieve a weather card deck from her equally weathered luggage. Scientific or fishing expeditions could prove rather boring for extended amounts of time, so she always carried some entertainment.

  “Okay. First, we deal.” Dirk took the proffered deck and proceeded to describe the game.

  After a few rounds, when Alma had finally grasped the rules, she said, “My turn. Have you ever played cribbage?”

  Dirk shot her an identical expression of bafflement. “Sounds made up,” he teased.

  Alma flicked a card at him and pulled a scarred cribbage board from a cabinet. “It’s hundreds of years old.”

  “The game or this ancient board?” Dirk turned the disfigured rectangle of wood in his hands.

  She laughed, a bright sound that made Dirk forget that he hadn’t seen the sun in several days. “Both, I guess. My dad and I used to play when we spent the night on the boat away from home. And he learned it from my grandfather, using this same board,” she explained as she placed pegs in the minuscule holes that littered the board.

  They played cards, trading game suggestions regularly, until nearly dark, when Dirk sigh and declared that he had to go home. The snow had dissipated and they both suspected the city would be functioning normally again the next day.

  “Thank you for hosting the best snow day I’ve ever experienced.”

  Alma scoffed. “I bet you tell all the girls that.”

  Dirk touched her arm gently and she looked up into sea-green eyes that contained no humor, only deep sincerity. “Seriously.” His deep voice, made even lower by his earnest statement, resonated in Alma’s body. Where the solemn expression would have chilled others, Alma smiled gently and leaned over to kiss his cheek, rough with two-day stubble.

  “I thoroughly enjoyed it, too,” she promised, her eyes soft with compassion.

  A small smile dissolved the serious countenance as he brushed her hair behind her ear and landed another breathy kiss on her cheek. As she had weeks ago, Alma was left yearning for those soft lips to meet hers.

  Dirk seemed to read her thoughts, touched his lips gently to hers, then stepped away quickly, as if anticipating the course of action that might be initiated by lingering. He shot her a grin that could only be interpreted as a seductive tease and left the apartment. Alma stood by the door for several moments, reveling in the lasting sensation of their brief touch.

  * * *

  Dirk was glad it was below freezing outside; he breathed in the cold as a means of chilling his overheated body. He’d left Alma with such a brief caress because he knew if it had been anything more, he wouldn’t have been able to leave. And duty called. The flip phone he carried with him had buzzed twenty-four hours previously, letting him know his target was firmly snowed in and necessitated no observation. But as the snow faded, the politician would most certainly be on the move.

  Still wrapped in a delightful cocoon of bliss from the weekend, he headed across town. Taxis were still absent from the snow packed streets. It was several blocks before he sensed a presence behind him. Frowning, he crossed the street, his long legs straddling the tall snow banks. After another block, the black clad figure tailing him did the same. Dirk ducked around a corner, jogged half a block, entered an alley and backed into a recessed doorway. A minute passed before he heard footsteps crunch on the compacted snow, but they scurried past the alley and further down the block. He hurried to the street and started off after the tail, hoping to waylay his pursuer. But by the time he reached the next intersection, the figure had disappeared.

  Suspicion bubbling, he took a circuitous route home. By the time he entered his cold apartment, he’d managed to push the weekend with Alma from mind. Distractions wouldn’t do in his profession.

  Chapter 6

  Twin gushers of water erupted from the dark blue sea, sending vapor several stories skyward. Two immense mottled-blue bodies kissed the surface. Their smooth skin shimmered in the sunlight. It took several long moments for them to pass out of sight, back to the depths where krill were plentiful and pesky observers nonexistent.

  The small yacht was utterly silent until a voice whooped out loud.

  “That was incredible!” another voice exclaimed, and soon the whole boat full of scientists was babbling in excitement, comparing observations and sharing wishes that they could follow the two whales on their dive below the Atlantic surface.

  The seas were choppy, but the turbulence didn’t faze any of the twenty marine researchers on the yacht. They were high-fiving and hugging, celebrating the rare opportunity to observe blue whales so far south of their typical territory east of Canada.

  “Thank you so much!” Alma sai
d as she embraced her friend and colleague, Dr. Stacy Monroe. “This was… And this week has been…”

  “Don’t thank me! It was wonderful to have you along! You lend an expert perspective that a lot of these Atlantic natives never consider.”

  Alma accepted the praise modestly and turned to high-five the middle-aged man at her shoulder.

  “You’re staying for the celebration, right?” he asked.

  She looked to Stacy for explanation.

  “We’re having a party tonight. Nothing fancy. Just a laidback lobster bake and drinks.”

  The man elbowed her.

  “Lot’s of drinks,” she corrected with grin.

  “You’re staying, right?” he demanded again.

  “Sure. I think I’ve got the seaside cabin one more night.”

  “Call your boyfriend. Invite him along,” Stacy added.

  Alma looked confused. “Boyfriend?”

  “Surely the strikingly beautiful Dr. Decker has a remora tagging along,” Stacy pushed, referring to the fish that commonly accompany large sharks and whales.

  “And you’ve certainly run my charming advances to the ground all week,” the man added with a playful smile.

  Alma was startled to remember Dirk’s face. She’d been so intent on her studies of local wildlife throughout the week that she’d surprisingly forgotten to think about him. “I suppose I could think of someone. He may be working, though.”

  “Call him up! He isn’t a landlubber, is he?”

  Alma laughed. “As a matter of fact, he is.”

  He tsked. “I suppose we can allow an exception.”

  Stacy elbowed him lightheartedly. “And we’ll even be nice about it.”

  Alma stepped away to the rear deck where the wind tugged her braided hair and nipped at her face. She hadn’t heard from Dirk in nearly two weeks, since he’d left her so breathless in her living room. She unzipped her heavy coat to dig in an inner pocket and extract her phone. Her gloves proved too burdensome to operate the device, so she used her teeth to remove one and hammered out a quick message. They were close enough to shore now to send it. Once it was gone, she re-zipped the coat and hurriedly shoved her hand back in the glove. It had already approached numbness in the brief moments in the freezing sea air.

  * * *

  Dirk strolled through the terminal with less than his usual pep. He was exhausted from a grueling week in the field, both mentally and physically; his body bore painful bruises as evidence. His pack was slung over his shoulder as he crossed the parking garage. He flung it into the passenger seat and pulled himself into the Jeep using the overhead handle. With a deep sigh, he placed his hands on the steering wheel and leaned his head back against the seat, eyes closed.

  It was several minutes before he mustered the energy to open those coral-blue eyes and think about starting the ignition. First, he opened the center console, extracted his personal cell phone, and turned it on. At first the screen was blank. He started the vehicle, intending to head home. Then the iPhone vibrated. Instead of reaching for the gearshift, he tapped the phone screen.

  Text Message

  Would you like to come to Woods Hole tonight for a party? I know it’s a long drive. No pressure.

  Alma Decker

  Suddenly, memories of the sender filled Dirk’s head. Tension of the past week faded at the thoughts and he marveled at the effectiveness of her presence in his mind. Hoping the real thing would serve the same purpose, only with higher potency, he texted back:

  On my way

  While he was still navigating the parking garage, an address appeared in his inbox.

  Along the way south, he stopped for gas and to change into the fresh jeans and thick sweater packed away. By the time he arrived on Garfield Road, he had managed to compartmentalize thoughts of work. Although still painfully sore, he had his mind set on other things.

  Before knocking on the heavy oak door, he could hear a raucous of jovial activity inside. The sound brought a smile to his lips and he was still grinning when the door swung wide.

  “Hello!” a tall, blond haired man greeted. “How may we assist you?” As he spoke, a clear glass filled with ice and dark amber liquid sloshed in his hand.

  “Alma invited me.” Dirk suddenly wondered if he’d knocked at the wrong residence. This boisterous crowd didn’t seem like Alma’s cup of tea.

  The tall man lit up brightly as the liquid in his glass threatened to overflow. “Ah! You have been eagerly awaited!”

  The line reminded Dirk of a movie he’d seen, but he didn’t have time to contemplate it as the man drew him inside. “Mark Douglas,” he introduced, taking Dirk’s hand in sudden embrace.

  He recovered quickly. “Dirk Travers. You seem to be hosting quite a party!”

  “We saw a blue whale today, man! Of course we’re partying!” Mark drew him into the Victorian. “Here, I’ll pour you a dark n’ stormy.”

  “A what?” Dirk demanded as he was hauled through the elegant living area to the kitchen.

  “A dark n’ stormy! A classic sailor’s drink.” Mark paused dramatically. “I mean, unless you don’t think you can handle it, you know, as a land lubber and all.”

  Dirk rolled his eyes. “I would love a ‘dark n’ stormy’. The stronger the better. And that had better be rum I see in your hand.”

  Mark shot him a winning smile. “I like you, land lubber!” He shoved a drink into Dirk’s hand and led him back to the living area where a dozen or more folks were gathered. They were all talking excitedly. Some were clearly intoxicated while others were more intoxicated on the day’s events than the alcohol in evident supply.

  Dirk didn’t expect the sudden rush of relief and joy that swept over him when he sighted Alma across the crowded room.

  “Decker!” Mark shouted over the din. “I found your landlubber!”

  Dirk had already evaporated from his side, navigating his own discrete path though the melee. Alma saw him materialize and met him with a surprisingly eager kiss on the lips. He shot her a surprised look as she stepped away, but her expression said she’d explain later. Slipping her arm through his, she led him back to the clique she’d been entertaining moments before.

  “…and the parasites that inhabit gray whales are-”

  “Oh, Alma, this must be your long-awaited…company,” a woman about Alma’s own age interrupted, apparently eagerly by the response of the crowd. The former speaker scowled and moved away.

  “This is Dirk,” Alma introduced. “Dirk, this is Stacy, my former roommate and current host, and Rick, and…”

  Her endless introductions were lost on him. His tired brain received only the necessity to shake hands and smile.

  “What do you do, Dirk?” Stacy asked.

  “I consult on Navy computer systems,” he explained.

  “Fascinating,” another woman responded. She drew Dirk into an in-depth technology conversation during which he lost sight of Alma. When the discussion concluded, he politely excused himself and wove through bodies to reassert himself at her elbow.

  There was a plate of jumbo shrimp displayed on a nearby table. The sight and scent overwhelmed him and he motioned to the plate.

  “Feel free,” Mark invited.

  “Please!” Alma added. “We’ve had an endless feast of shrimp, scallops, Atlantic salmon, Maine lobster, and oysters… Oh, it’s been a delicious week!” She patted her flat belly. “Please, take some of the temptation away!”

  Dirk laughed and accepted the invitation. He was hungry as well as exhausted, although Alma lent him endless amounts of energy. The seafood was as delicious as it was tempting. Against his better manners, he reloaded with seconds.

  The evening wound down to the midnight hours and the scientists started drifting off, disappearing to nearby accommodations.

  “Do you want to head back to Boston?” Dirk asked discretely.

  “I have a cottage on Eel Bay just a few blocks away,” Alma answered.

  That sounded as good to D
irk as a five-star hotel and he took her hand as they exited the Victorian.

  “Quite the crew you have there,” he joked.

  Alma grinned. “They’re great! We spent all week following mammals around Nantucket and the surrounding wild.”

  “Mark said you saw your blue whale today?”

  “Yes!” she exclaimed as subfreezing temperatures bit their cheeks. “It was incredible!”

  “I can’t even imagine! That’s awesome!” His grip on her hand affirmed his words.

  “How was your week?” she asked as they walked along the icy sidewalks.

  He paused longer than normal before replying. “It was…long.” The bruises on his ribs twinged as a painful reminder. “How was your week? What all have you been up to here at the ‘mecca of marine sciences’?”

  Alma smiled at his recollection of her description. “I went out with Stacy and Mark to make observations of a pod of pilot whales that’s in the area. They’re a new pod, at least here. They’ve never been sighted in these waters before. And another day I joined a scientist from the North Atlantic Seal Research Consortium. We went to Pasque Island to check out a growing colony of seals. There were a couple of seals that had gotten themselves tangled in some old fishing net, so we did what we could for them. I went to the Woods Hole Aquarium one day, Mark and I took a cruise out to some fishing grounds another day, and I spent a day in the lab with Stacy. It’s been a great week! Makes me even more excited for summer to get here so I can get back to Puget Sound and UW.”

  “I’m glad you’ve enjoyed yourself!”

  “Thank you! And thanks for coming down tonight. I know it’s a long drive after a long work week.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed it. Your friends are very interesting folks! Academics to the core, I’d say. I mean, even several dark n’ stormys in, they were still quoting research and comparing notes.”

  She laughed. “Yep. I guess we can go a little overboard with the science talk.”

  “I don’t mind it. In fact, I really enjoyed learning more about local marine life. It’s quite fascinating to me.”