Tropical Storm - DK1

by Melissa Good

  456 Melissa Good Kerry was at a loss for words. “Uh.” She frantically searched for some kind of response, and realized she was just out of luck. So she merely looked up into Dar’s eyes and tried to express what her heart was feeling silently.

  Her companion produced a little smile, and glanced around the store.

  “We about done here?”

  For a sophisticated, intelligent, aggressive woman, Dar certainly could present an excellent imitation of a spanked puppy sometimes, Kerry noted mournfully. Maybe it was the way she stuck her hands in the pockets of her shorts. “Dar?”

  Those pretty blue eyes focused on her. “Yes?”

  Kerry gathered up her vest, belt, and booties, then handed her taller companion the wetsuit and lifted her eyebrows. “Since you think it’ll enhance the visuals.” A flash of white as Dar smiled and took possession of the suit. A compromise, Kerry reasoned as she made her way towards the cash register.

  “Hey.” She stopped, as her eye caught a bathing suit in crimson with deep gold slashes in it.

  Dar peered over her shoulder. “Not your size,” she commented regretfully.

  Green eyes studied her speculatively. “No, but I bet it’s yours.” Her nose crinkled up in a mischievous grin. “Fair’s fair.” One dark eyebrow lifted slowly as Dar gave her a look, then plucked the suit off the rack without another word and headed up to the counter. “Heh,” Kerry chortled softly as she followed.

  “GOOD THING I brought the truck,” Dar commented, putting the last bag in the back of the Lexus and giving her companion a slightly amazed, slightly alarmed look. “You actually use all that stuff?”

  Kerry put a hand on her back. “Believe it or not, yes. When you actually cook real food with real ingredients, it’s not just pulling something out of a box and nuking it.”

  Dar closed the back hatch and put her hands on her hips. “Sure is easier that way,” she commented teasingly.

  “Yes, it is,” Kerry agreed. “But it’s a lot less healthy for you because of all the junk they put in there to keep the food from crystallizing when they freeze it. I think that stuff turns your ears blue or something.”

  “Oh.” Dar considered this. “I guess that makes sense.” She walked around and got into the car, waiting for Kerry to do the same. “You up for some café con leche?”

  Speaking of unhealthy. Kerry gave her companion a wry look but didn’t resist. “Sure,” she agreed readily, acknowledging to herself that she’d become somewhat addicted to the sweet coffee and the tiny pastries that would go with them. Her stomach growled, already anticipating the cheese and guava ones she particularly liked.

  Dar navigated the beachfront streets with skill, pulling into the back parking lot of a small Cuban cafeteria and parking. Kerry took a deep breath of the morning air contentedly, tasting the strong hint of salt on it. “Nice morning,” she complimented the weather, being in the lower seventies, and Tropical Storm 457

  much less humid than it had been recently. The sun was warm but not overbearing, and the breeze fluttered the thin fabric of her T-shirt against her body.

  She felt… It was like having been in school, and now she was out on summer break, Kerry decided, but with the knowledge that there was no fall term to go back to. In a way, it was like when she graduated college and started out on her first real job. Everything changed. Now it was changing again, as she took slow, tentative steps towards a whole new life, allowing the reality of a partnership with Dar to sink in. It felt so strange, but in a weird way, familiar.

  She was hurting over her parents, and she knew that. She knew it would be a long time before she could think about them and not feel the grief of not being accepted. But on the flip side, it felt so, so good to not have to measure up to their standards anymore. Now she was free to set her own standards.

  The sea breeze blew cleanly across her, and a gull circled overhead as Kerry smiled up at the fluffy white clouds floating lazily overhead. What’s that about breaking eggs to make omelets? Her eyes slipped sideways, to the tall form pacing beside her. What kind of omelet are you, hmm? My favorite kind, I think.

  Dar felt a quiet contentment drop over her, and she was surprised at how easily her lone and sometimes prickly nature accepted Kerry’s close and constant presence. She’d been skeptical of her own ability to adjust to that, but her subconscious had apparently been fooling her all along into thinking she was happier alone.

  It wasn’t true, and she knew it now. She’d just had to find the right person. She wondered briefly if Kerry felt the same way. She hoped so. She really, really did. Dar found herself very much looking forward to building a lasting relationship with her blonde companion.

  She reached out and opened the door to the cafeteria, releasing the heady scents of the thick Cuban coffee and pastries into the salty air. They entered, and she ordered for them in a workmanlike, slightly accented Spanish that caused Kerry to give her an amazed look.

  “What? I had no idea you spoke Spanish,” she sputtered.

  Dar shrugged. “Enough to get by, sure.” She sat down on a vacant stool and motioned her companion to do the same, and they waited for their order.

  The cafeteria was mostly full of other patrons, most enjoying various types of coffee and either the pastelitos or full breakfasts. “Oh, hmm.” She turned and got the waitress’s attention and pointed at a nearby plate. The woman nodded and smiled at her.

  “What is that?” Kerry peered at her.

  “Cuban Egg McMuffin,” Dar replied with a grin. “Eggs, cheese, and bacon on toasted Cuban bread.” She watched Kerry cover her eyes. “You can have half.”

  “Jesus.” Kerry moaned. “You are so corrupting me.” She sighed and picked up the warm, flaky pastry the waitress had settled in front of her, taking a bite and enjoying the combination of sweet and tangy. “I spent most of Thanksgiving night wondering why everything was so damn tasteless, then I remembered my mother has them cook everything without salt, butter, or cream.”

  458 Melissa Good

  “Yuck.” Dar munched on her sandwich, nudging the other half over to Kerry’s plate. “What purpose do potatoes serve if you can’t use them as a delivery vehicle for all three of those things?” she asked reasonably.

  Kerry gave her a look, then nibbled a corner of the sandwich. “Mmm, that certainly is better than an Egg McMuffin,” she admitted.

  Dar chuckled. “Relax, look around.” Dar flicked her eyes around the room. “This is standard Cuban fare. You see all the old folks around here? It won’t kill you.” She stood up and gathered her bag of pastelitos. “C’mon, we’d better get that stuff in the refrigerator.” They walked outside and headed around the corner of the small building, into the lot that was bordered by the cafeteria on one side and an apartment complex on the other.

  It was a very, very quiet drive back. Kerry finally sat back, once they were safely on the ferry, and rolled her head to one side, regarding Dar’s profile.

  “Know something?”

  “Hmm?”

  She covered Dar’s hand with her own and rested her head against the taller woman’s shoulder. “You’re the most important person in my life.” She kept her eyes on the leather seat, not daring to look up to see Dar’s reaction.

  Which was a pity, because she missed a round-eyed look of absolute, quiet wonder bestowed on her by her companion. “You know, I was kind of hoping you felt like that,” Dar murmured.

  The soft clank of the waves against the ferry’s rigging drifted in the open window of the Lexus. “Why?” Kerry whispered.

  Dar rested her head against the smaller woman’s. “Because I feel the same way.”

  “Oh.” Kerry smiled, closing her eyes. “I guess that’s all right, then.”

  They stayed like that until the ferry docked, and Kerry steered the car up the ramp and through the winding roads to the parking spot they’d left a few hours and a lifetime ago. She helped Dar carry the groceries and their new diving gear inside, and they put things away in a c
omfortable silence.

  Finally, Kerry dropped into the loveseat and gazed at the ceiling, while Dar puttered around the kitchen. She could hear the microwave beeping and predicted smelling the rich, distinctive scent of chocolate next. Dar didn’t disappoint her, and she smiled as the tall, dark-haired woman padded into the living room, handing her a gently steaming cup of hot chocolate. She took a seat next to her companion and propped her bare feet up on the coffee table.

  They looked at each other in quiet regard for a long moment. “Been quite a month,” Dar commented, taking a sip of her chocolate.

  “Oh yeah,” Kerry agreed. “It sure has been.” She swallowed a mouthful of the sweet beverage. “I should start keeping a diary, especially if this is what life’s going to be like from now on.”

  Dar laughed gently. “Jesus, I hope not. It would end up sounding like some crazy television show.” She laid an arm across the back of the couch and tangled her fingers in Kerry’s hair. “Listen, I know it’s been a rough weekend.” She paused, collecting her thoughts, then went on. “And I know you’re going to need some time to get used to things, But, um…”

  Kerry put down her chocolate and edged over, slipping her arms around Dar’s body and leaning against her. “But, um, what?”

  Tropical Storm 459

  Dar blinked at her, putting down her own cup and returning her embrace. “But, um,” her brows knit, “I really think we work well together.”

  Kerry sniffed reflectively. “Well, that’s true. We have different approaches, but we generally get to the same point.” She was fairly sure Dar’s speech had nothing to do with work, but she was willing to go along with the charade. “You’re a logical person, and you usually get right to the heart of the problem and fix it.”

  “Uh...right,” Dar agreed hesitantly.

  “Usually,” Kerry repeated, tipping her head back and gazing up at her companion.

  “Usually, what?” the dark-haired woman hazarded.

  “You usually get right to the point,” Kerry stated patiently.

  “Oh, right. Yeah, I do,” Dar muttered. “I know I do, in fact, there’s a point around here, and I’m going to get to it as soon as I figure out what the hell it is.”

  Kerry buried her face into Dar’s chest and muffled a laugh.

  Dar sighed. “You have this knack of making me feel like a lovestruck teenager, did you know that?”

  Green eyes peeked up at her. “Is that good or bad?”

  “Well, it certainly blows my image all to hell,” Dar replied with a faint laugh. “So I guess my asking you if you want to move in here won’t do much worse.”

  Kerry swallowed hard. “Guess you found the point, huh?” she asked softly.

  “Guess I did,” Dar admitted. “Look, I know you can’t just give up your place. For one thing, changing your address in CAS is going to cause one hell of a ruckus, but I…” She gathered her courage up again. “I really like having you around, and I’d like to try making a life with you.”

  Kerry felt a deep, honest warmth creeping over her. “Now, that’s more like it,” she murmured, then fell silent as she considered the request. “Work is going to be extremely weird,” she finally said. “And you’re right, I really can’t just give my place up—at least not yet.” Another pause. “And you probably need time to adjust to the invasion.” Dar didn’t deny any of the statements.

  “Tell you what, why don’t we do weekends here, and the rest of the week I can stay down in Kendall. Then on Wednesdays, you can come over after the gym.” It seemed a good compromise, giving them both a little space and time to adjust to each other.

  Dar blinked at her. “So, is that a yes?”

  Kerry blushed and nodded. “I’d very much like to make a life with you.”

  She inclined her head, and they kissed gently. “Dar?”

  “Yes?” The dark-haired woman smiled fondly at her.

  “Can you show me the stuff you found out about my father?”

  The request caught Dar by surprise, and it showed in her swiftly elevated eyebrows. “Eh, sure.” She stood and extended a hand down to her companion.

  “Sorry. I forgot I told you I’d show you all of that.” She led Kerry into her office and settled behind her desk, keying the computer to life and starting up her mail program.

  “Mmm. I like that ISDN line,” Kerry commented, leaning an arm on Dar’s 460 Melissa Good shoulder and peering over it.

  Dar typed in a request and brought the mail which held the information up. “You know, that little room in the middle upstairs would make a nice little office,” she commented innocently. “I could have the other channel dropped in there.”

  “Dar?” Kerry whispered. “You don’t have to bribe me with toys.”

  Blue eyes peeked up at her. “Wasn’t a bribe. I have to know where to tell Bellsouth to put the jack, that’s all.” She straightened and indicated the screen.

  “You sure you want to see all this?”

  Kerry regarded her quietly. “I’m a big girl, Dar. Yes, I want to read it.”

  “All right.” The taller woman stood up and indicated the chair, then she walked over to the window—the same window they’d opened during the tropical storm—and leaned on the sill, peering out while Kerry read.

  The documents were ugly, even to Dar’s experienced and somewhat jaded eyes. Years worth of accepting bribes, standard among a percentage of politicians, but bribes which lead to the stonewalling of legislation that hurt people, and disregarded the common good. Payoffs for jobs, for bills, for votes—all depressingly regular.

  It was the funding by right-wing extremist groups that made her nauseous, millions of dollars, socked away in private bank accounts over the course of a career, to further the interests of people whose chief platform was hate. That and the hypocrisy of that other family, that woman and her children, being supported by the senator. She and two of the older children were in comfortable government jobs and supplied with generous benefits and stipends. Oh, and the tax fraud. Dar wondered if Kerry realized she and her sister were still being listed as dependents, and her still on the books at some school, enrolled? Disgusting. She heard the click of keystrokes and turned to see Kerry’s eyes flicking over the screen.

  “I’m forwarding this to my mailbox,” the blonde woman murmured.

  “That was really kind of slimy to read, Dar.”

  She settled warm hands on Kerry’s shoulders. “I know, the entries from United Klan’s of America kind of got to me.”

  Kerry logged out then logged in as her own account, the screen popping up immediately. She accessed her mail and opened the documents again.

  “Dar, you know, I’ve been having to spend a lot of time with those marketing people, and they gave me a tour of their operation the other week.”

  Dar blinked in confusion. “Um, yeah. Okay. What does that have to do with anything?”

  Kerry selected the documents, then opened a new mail message and pasted them in. “Well, one of the things they showed me was their distribution network; it’s really kind of neat. They can get information out by using a mailing list. See? Like this.” She addressed the message. “You just click here.” She hit the Send key. “And it gets sent to sixty different news outlets.”

  Dar’s jaw dropped in utter shock. “Did you just…”

  Green eyes looked calmly up at her. “Yes, I did.” A pause. “You said it would be my decision, didn’t you?”

  “W…but…uh, yes, but I…” Dar sat down on the desk, nonplussed.

  Tropical Storm 461

  “Jesus, Kerry!”

  “I wasn’t going to,” the blonde woman stated softly. “But then I thought about how he just couldn’t let go, he couldn’t just let me leave. I thought about how before he had to send that bastard down here because he thought I was bluffing about not moving back.” Now she looked right up at Dar. “You told me if someone calls your bluff, you have to just go with it. So I did.

  “You understand what that
will do,” Dar said quietly. “Don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Kerry answered steadily. “I do.” She studied the desktop. “I’ll warn Michael and Angela.” Her eyes lifted to Dar’s still-shocked face. “I surprised you, huh?”

  A faint nod. “Yes, you did.” She hadn’t expected quite that level of vindictiveness in her friend. “I didn’t think you would do that.”

  Kerry sighed and rested her chin in her hands. “If it had just been me, I probably wouldn’t have, but they came after you.” She rubbed her lip with her thumb. “That was too much, Dar. I can’t have that. Maybe some of that ruthlessness I see in him came down to me.” She blinked at the screen. “I feel pretty ruthless right now.”

  Dar slowly exhaled and curled her fingers around Kerry’s wrist, which was resting on the desk’s surface. “No, what he did, what Kyle did, that was ruthless. What you did was justice.”

  “Maybe,” Kerry murmured.

  “I know you care about your family, Kerry, and this wasn’t an easy thing for you to do.” Dar gave her a sympathetic look. “In a way, we’ve both lost our families.”

  A slow, almost puzzled smile crossed Kerry’s face. “But there are two kinds of families, Dar. The ones you’re born into, and the ones you make yourself.” She looked up and met the blue eyes regarding her. “And our friendship binds us closer than blood ever could.” Memory chimed, clear and piercing as a bell.

  Dar smiled acknowledgment, holding up one hand, palm outstretched, and watching Kerry’s fingers curl into hers. “You are my family,” she agreed, then reached into her shirt pocket. “By the way, thought you might want this back.” She turned Kerry’s palm over and set a golden circle into it. “It’s an interesting piece.”

  Kerry took the ring up between her forefinger and thumb and peered at it. “I always felt there was something behind it, some story, you know?” She turned it over. “Probably just an overactive imagination on my part. Though when my great-aunt gave it to me, it was kind of strange. She hadn’t seen me since I was a… Jesus, probably three, four years old. I went to visit her after I got out of college, and when she saw me, she had me stand in the light and just looked at me for about ten minutes—not saying anything. Then she laughed and got this out and gave it to me.”