by Melissa Good
Yum.
The machine finished coming up and Kerry logged in, folding her hands and waiting for her desktop to assemble itself. For better or worse, the holidays were quiet in the disaster arena, and now she sat there, thinking about what short term goals she had to put in place.
Short term, because they were leaving.
Kerry considered that, finding the thought of them actually walking out of the building and not coming back still surreal to her, and even more so to the staff they managed.
Her phone buzzed. She glanced up and hit the button. “Yes?”
“Kerry, Mark is here to see you.”
“Send him in, by all means.” Kerry watched her screen fill with emails, sparing a glance toward the door as it opened and admitted their MIS manager, Mark Polenti. “Hey Mark.”
“Hey, poquito boss.” He dropped into one of her visitors chairs. “Big D in?”
“Probably by now. She was dropping her ride off to be serviced,” Kerry responded. “How was your break?”
“Sweet. Rode the bike down to Key West.” Mark grinned. “Nice to have the extra time off. You guys down by Largo?”
Kerry nodded. “Yeah, after I got back from my sister’s wedding.” She rested her elbows on her desk. “So what’s going on? Anything besides my entire inbox I have to worry about?”
Mark shrugged. “Been quiet. I think everyone’s waiting for the other shoe to fall.”
“What does that mean?”
“See who they’re gonna hire to try and take yours and big D’s place,” he said. “No one’s looking forward to it.”
Kerry sighed, lacing her fingers together. “I’m sure there are people in this company looking forward to it, Mark. Dar has enemies here. I met most of them, remember?”
He shook his head. “Not really. Not anymore. Big diff between when you came here and now, Kerry. You know it.”
She did.
“Dar was always tough. She still is,” he said. “But one thing you could take to the bank was, you could trust her.”
Kerry thought about that in silence for a moment. “You know, you’re right about that,” she said. “I felt that, even from the start with her. If she said something, she meant it.” She looked at Mark. “I get it,” she said. “But she’s entitled to have a little life with her life, you know?”
Mark nodded. “I know. I feel great for her and for you. Just not for me, or the rest of us.” He glanced around. “So anyway, everything’s sort of in a holding pattern. No one wants to start anything new, cause we don’t know what the deal is going to be. You know?”
“I know,” Kerry said. “Just between you and me, it might not be as soon as we planned. They’re having a problem replacing her.”
Mark started chuckling softly. “I bet they are.”
“Well, I mean how’d you like to follow that act?” Kerry smiled wryly. “I sure as hell am glad I’m not going to try it.”
“Oh, yeah,” Mark said. “Hey, who knows? Maybe they’ll take a year to find someone.” He perked up visibly. “Anyway, the one thing cooking is the new network center coming online downtown. I got five guys over there running cabling and it should be ready to go in about a week.”
“Oh. Good.” Kerry had almost forgotten the new center, its need established way back when she and Dar had gone to North Carolina, and its commissioning overshadowed by recent events. “It’ll be good to be able to double home services into that thing. Dar was looking for someplace to land those international circuits from South America.”
Mark nodded. “Okay got that on the agenda. See ya at the ops meeting?”
“See ya.” Kerry watched him get up and walk out, going over his words in her head as she delayed having to deal with her mail. A moment later, she put even that on hold as she heard footsteps approaching down the back hallway to her office and looked over as the inner door opened and Dar poked her head in. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Dar entered and parked her tall frame on the edge of Kerry’s desk. “Car won’t be ready for a few days. They have to replace some gaskets.”
Kerry leaned on her chair arm. “Isn’t it time we went and picked you out a new car?” she asked. “The last time my car had to have major work that’s what you made me do.”
Dar opened her mouth to protest, then paused with a thoughtful expression. “Hm.” She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe that’s an idea. Let me think about it.” She cocked her head. “Speaking of thinking about it, I told the government if they want to talk to me they have to come here.”
“Ah.” Kerry, who had more exposure to the government, winced. “Y’know, hon.”
Dar shrugged. “They want me. I don’t want them,” she said, with a truculent note in her voice. “Screw it, Kerry. I don’t owe them anything. I delivered above and beyond a few months ago. Maybe if they think I’m going to be an asshole to deal with they’ll go elsewhere.”
“That didn’t stop them the first time,” Kerry said. “Is it really smart to get someone that high up in the government mad at you?” She put a hand on Dar’s thigh. “I don’t want that kind of trouble.”
Dar sighed. “Too late.” She managed a wry grin. “His office is going to call me back.” She glanced out the windows. “Ah, who knows? Maybe it’s a short little something that’ll keep me occupied until they find someone to replace me.”
“Dar.” Kerry patted her leg to get her attention. “They’ll never do that.” She watched the pale blue eyes focus on her, and a small smile appear. “The best they’re going to be able to do is find someone who’s got guts, who’ll get in there and weather the tornadoes until they can start putting their own ideas in.”
“You could do that,” Dar said
“I don’t want to do that,” Kerry replied in a mild tone.
Dar smiled again.
“That thing we did? In New York? That did something to me.” Kerry leaned back in her chair. “I don’t want to spend any more time just clearing the next problem off my desk.”
“Me either.” Dar reached over and tweaked her nose. “So let me get back to my handover plan, and see what the government says about my badass self.” She pushed off the desk and sauntered back to the hallway. “See ya for lunch.”
“Speaking of cleaning problems.” Kerry turned her attention, finally, to her inbox as she heard Mayte come back with the coffee. “Let’s get the party started.”
DAR TWIRLED A pen in her fingers as she listened to the voice coming from the phone. “Listen, Gerry, that sounds like ten times the scope you talked to me about a few months ago.”
“War’ll do that to ya,” Gerald Easton replied. “Got them throwing money at me right, left, and up my keister. Don’t want to hear about resources, just get it done. So here I am on the phone with you, finding out how we’re going to get it done.”
Dar rubbed her temples. “Gerry—”
“Dar, I know what you’re going to say. This all is not your cup of tea. I know it. But they know, and I know, and you know, that you can get this done.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Dar took a breath, and released it. “Okay,” she finally said. “Let me see what I can work up on it and I’ll get back to you.”
“Fantastic,” General Easton said. “My people want to have a meeting over it. Can we get you up here? Got some folks who want to wring your hand anyhow.”
Dar recalled Kerry’s words. “Not a bad idea, Gerry.” She resigned herself to the trip. “I’ve got to go talk to some brass up there. Might as well knock both of you out on one trip.”
“Brass?”
“Same guy who wanted to talk to me last time.”
“Ah.” The general grunted. “That one.”
“Mm.”
“Well, looking forward to hearing from you then, Dar,” he said. “Just let my gal here know when you’re on the way.”
“Sure. Talk to you later.” Dar hung up the line and leaned back in her chair, folding her arms over her chest and studying the phone somberly.
This seemed like trouble to her. Gerry’s project was an overhaul of the government’s intelligence systems, and while Dar knew that individually all that was well within their scope, navigating the political nightmare that would ensue was not.
She’d had enough of that on one small base with one small system.
The end goal was a logical one—so that all the systems the various agencies used could talk together and share intelligence and data, and yet she suspected none of the agencies would go easily into this new world of collective knowledge.
So logic and egos would clash. Dar didn’t really want to have to deal with that, but she was aware of the fact that despite her steadfast desire to separate herself from all this, it wasn’t going to happen fast enough for her to avoid getting involved.
Damn it.
And then there was whatever the president’s advisor wanted. That might prove to be tougher and more serious. Dar turned to her desktop as her mail dinged and studied the screen.
Clients. Alastair. Mari. She bypassed them all and clicked on the one from Stuart, Kerry
Hey.
So I checked online about changing my name.
“Huh?” Dar stared at the screen in puzzlement, then it came to her. “Oh.”
It’s a weird mixture of civil legal stuff andstuff that comes from when everyone lived in a tinytown and all went to the same post office. You have to post the paperwork on a bulletin board for amonth. But anyway, I’m going to stop during lunchand pick the forms up. I’ll bring you back someThai.
Dar regarded the mail in bemusement
You were serious.
She rested her weight on her elbows and thought about it.
I’m jazzed. I think the hardest part of it willbe getting my Social Security card changed.
Dar wondered what it would feel like to think about family the way Kerry did, and make the change she was contemplating making.
What would she have done if she hadn’t been gay, and had gotten married and been faced with changing her name. Would she have? Dar regarded the pen in her fingers as she thought hard about that. “Damned if I know if I’d have done that,” she finally said. “I think I’m proud of that name.”
“What?”
Dar turned to find Kerry crossing the carpeted floor. “Hey, thought you were going to the post office.”
“I am. But Mark said something earlier and I wanted to talk to you about it.”
Dar leaned back in her chair. “All ears.”
“All legs, actually.” Kerry tickled her knee. “Dar, what does this whole hiring thing do for our time line? Mark was saying people are just sort of holding their breaths and waiting to see what happens. How long can we operate like that?”
“We can’t,” Dar said. “What would you say if I said I think I want to retract my resignation for now?”
Kerry blinked, caught by surprise. “What?” she paused, watching Dar’s face. “Are you serious?”
Dar nodded. “I was just thinking about it. We gave them too much warning. There’s no way we’ll get out of here in one piece if we keep the date.”
Kerry walked slowly around the front of Dar’s desk and sat down in the seat across from her. “Wow. I don’t know what to say to that, Dar. I thought we had this worked out and decided.”
“I know.” Dar leaned forward and put her head down on her crossed wrists.
“Do I get a say in this?”
Dar felt like she should be mad at the question, and she could see Kerry’s temper prickling. “That’s why I asked you what you’d say. It was something I was just thinking about. Gerry just called. They want to quadruple the scope of that systems refresh.”
“And?”
“And, if I’m fully involved in that government clusterfuck, chances are I can’t get sucked into whatever the President has in mind.”
Kerry watched her quietly. “Can’t you say no to both of them?”
“I could,” Dar said. “But my gut instinct is, if I walk out now, everyone we know here is going to pay the price. Do I want that on my conscience? I should have just handed in my creds in NY.”
“Mm.”
“I’m not going to say anything,” Dar said. “You chew it over and see what you think.” She smiled. “While you’re on your way to go change your name to mine.” Her eyes twinkled a little. “Ker, I want to do what’s best for us. That means long term as well as short term.”
Kerry sighed. “I wanted to go travel with you. It really makes me feel crappy to know that’s not going to happen, Dar. I’m tired of doing this. I don’t want to spend more time listening to people yell at me, or want me to pull cats out of my butt for them.”
Dar got up and circled her desk, holding out her hands to Kerry and pulling her upright when she grasped them. “’Nuff said.” She leaned over and kissed Kerry on the lips. “Then we go.”
All the roiling tension that had built up in the last few minutes evaporated. Kerry leaned against her and rested her head against Dar’s collarbone. “Now that I’ve had my mini tantrum and you’ve indulged my brattiness, let me mull it over,” she said. “Talking to Mark was making me think about it too. There’s a lot of people here who are invested in the leadership we give them.”
Unseen, Dar smiled.
“Especially Mayte and Maria,” Kerry said quietly. “There’s a lot of trust there.”
“A lot of your hard work salvaging my reputation there,” Dar said, then she looked down as Kerry pulled back and looked up at her. “Damn good job.”
Kerry stretched up and gave her a kiss, then patted her on the side. “Be back in a little while.” She headed for the door, a faint smile on her face as she shook her head.
Dar sat on the edge of her desk and folded her arms. Then she got up and went back to her chair, whistling softly under her breath.
KERRY STOOD PATIENTLY in line, her sunglasses perched firmly on her nose as she ignored the din around her in the county courthouse. There were a lot of people inside, doing a lot of things she really had no interest in or knowledge of. The line she was in at the moment promised to end up with her obtaining the forms she needed, and the notary public she would need to sign off on the papers was available as well.
It felt a little strange to be here. Kerry folded her arms over her chest, keeping her eyes mostly on the ground and not meeting anyone’s gaze.
“Thanks for nothin!” The man in front of her slammed his hand against the window and left, leaving the clerk behind it shaking her head.
She paused a moment, then glanced at Kerry. “Next.”
Kerry walked up to the window. “Could I please have the forms I need to change my name?”
The clerk gave her a bored look, then got up and went to a file cabinet, opening a drawer and shuffling through some folders. She withdrew a set of forms and came back, sliding them under the bulletproof glass window into Kerry’s hands. “There ya go.”
“Thanks.” Kerry took her papers and went to a nearby stand up desk, removing a pen from her pocket and studying the questions. “Okay, well, let’s get this over with.” She started filling it out, resting her arm on the table and scribbling through the questions.
Some she got. “Full current legal name.” She printed hers in neatly spaced letters. “Second question. What is my complete present name. What?” She peered at it. “Isn’t that the same thing?” With a shake of her head she obediently filled it in. Then—“I request that my name be changed to?”
Kerry paused, and studied the line. She took a breath and flexed her fingers, then filled the line in. “Kerrison Roberts.”
It was a very strange feeling, a mixture of relief and apprehension, a mental awareness of a vivid crossroad visible only to her.
Did Dar get why she was doing this? She had seemed okay with it, pleased, in fact, but how could Dar really understand when she herself had never faced the question?
Ah well. Kerry took another breath and carried on filling out the rest of the form, all four pages of it, r
acing through the rest of it not pausing to wonder why they needed to know what college she went to, or what her profession was.
When she finished, she took it over to the notary desk, and paid the fee to have it stamped, signing it in front of a sleepy looking man with a bad toupée and a tattoo of a smiley face on the back of his hand.
He didn’t actually look at the papers. He just signed his name and applied his stamp, and pushed the papers back at her without even looking up.
“Thanks,” Kerry said, taking her forms and going back to stand in line again. She checked her watch, then opened her palm pilot and tapped in a quick note. After about fifteen minutes she was at the front of the line again, and stepped forward to hand the woman her forms.
The clerk sniffed and shuffled through them, reading quickly through it. “Two hundred and five dollars please.” She looked up at Kerry expectantly. “Cash or check.”
Kerry removed her checkbook from the inside pocket of her jacket and filled out a check, glancing at the chipped plastic sign to determine who to make it out to. She signed it, then removed it from the book and handed it over. “So I have to post this somewhere now?”
The clerk looked at her like she was crazy. “Say what?” she asked. “No. You gotta get a court date. You go over there, and fill out that form and put it in the box. They’ll call you.” She stapled the check to Kerry’s form, put it into a plastic folder, and handed her a slip of paper. “Your case number. Next?”
A little startled, Kerry backed off from the window and got out of the way as a man and woman pushed into her place. She hesitated, then went to the form on the wall, examining it. “Request a hearing?” She pulled a copy down and filled it out, putting the case number on it before she dropped it into the slot.
Then she looked around, the din suddenly harsh and metallic, irritating her senses. She put her pen away and went for the door, fastening her jacket as she cleared the doors to the courthouse and emerged into the bright, cool, sunny weather outside.
