by Melissa Good
“Tough up there, huh?” Andrew asked, after several sips of juice.
“Wasn’t the most pleasant experience I’ve ever had, no.” Dar squared her shoulders and faced him. “But I’m glad I went.”
He nodded slowly.
“Family’s the same.”
His lips twitched.
Dar studied the tile, tracing the grout lines intently. “Mom’s doing all right. I guess. I…um...” She shook her head, “I wish you’d call her.”
She had to force the words out, in a quiet mutter. “It was hard as hell to see her and not say anything.” She exhaled unhappily, then glanced up.
Andrew shifted uncomfortably. “Been so damn long. I don’t know…can’t just call…”
It would be a shock, true. “You could write,” Dar suggested softly.
“Never was much good at that.” He sighed, and stared at the bit of paper. “You…really think it’ll be… She won’t just tell me to go t’hell or something?”
Dar considered the question very seriously. The fear she understood only too well. “I think she’s in a lot of pain.” She almost felt her father flinch at that. “And I think you’re the only fix for that, Daddy.” Now, she looked up, putting all the sincerity she could into her voice and eyes.
“That’s what I honestly believe.”
He was very still, only the pale eyes flicked around the room as he thought. Finally, he let out a tired little sigh. “I miss her.” He paused.
“Damn, I do.”
Dar had to clamp her jaw down hard. “I know,” she said, after a moment for the lump to go down.
“The whole damn thing with the family though… I don’t know if I can fight that fight again, Dar.” Andrew closed his eyes. “Can’t ask her to Eye of the Storm 103
give that up again. You know they won’t put up with me.”
Dar got up and went to her study. She returned a moment later holding an envelope and sat down again. “To hell with them,” she stated softly, holding one hand out to him. “C’mere.”
Hesitantly, he leaned forward. “What?” He watched as she put the envelope into one hand and curled his fingers over it. “What is that, honey?”
“Your pension.”
Andrew’s brows, almost obscured against his scarred skin, drew together. “What?” Puzzled, he opened the envelope and took the papers out, unfolding them, and running his eyes over their contents.
Then he stopped.
And his face went totally blank in utter shock.
“Paladar Katherine Roberts, what in the name of God is this?” he asked in a strangled whisper.
It was a very sweet moment. Dar absorbed it and tucked it away down deep. “May’s trust fund came due,” she answered calmly. “I signed it over to you and had Richard put it in your name.”
“M…” He simply stared at her.
“I think May would have liked that.” Dar smiled wistfully. “I know I did.” She looked up. “You gave me so much. It felt great to give something back.” A tear escaped and she wiped it away impatiently. “Don’t say you won’t take it, because it’s too late for that.”
He folded the papers up and leaned his forehead against them, too overcome to say anything at all.
“I knew if I asked you it’d be no.” Dar ticked a finger off. “If I offered, you’d refuse. If I gave you a chance to turn it down, you would.”
Her jaw jutted out. “So I didn’t.”
He gazed at her.
Dar smiled and glanced up to see a pair of green eyes peeking at her from the stairwell. “Kerry, could you get Dad more juice? I think he’s about to cough up a kidney on the floor here.”
“Sure.” The blonde woman ambled down the stairs and ducked into the kitchen, then reappeared with the pitcher, pouring some in Andrew’s empty glass. “You okay?” She put a hand on the silent man’s shoulder.
“No, I am not okay,” he managed to rasp. “Did you know about this?”
“Sure.” Kerry sat down next to him on the loveseat and put an arm around him. “I thought it was the most incredibly great idea I’d ever heard.”
“Did you?” Andrew seemed to still be in shock.
“Yes, I did.” Kerry didn’t feel any resistance to her touch, so she scratched his back between the shoulder blades, where his daughter always liked it.
He fingered the papers. “Can’t think of a damn thing to say,” he muttered at last.
Dar smiled and regarded her now empty, clasped hands.
104 Melissa Good That meant he wouldn’t say no.
May would have definitely approved. And as for the rest of the family... Dar’s eyes glinted in the dusky light.
They can most certainly kiss my ass.
Chapter
Twelve
OF COURSE, IT rained the next day. Kerry stood for a moment, yawning and peering out the double glass sliding doors that opened to the ocean, watching the sheets of thick raindrops almost obscure the surf.
Well, she considered, that was okay too. It was a great morning for sleeping in—and they had—and here it was almost noon and she was just crawling out to put up some coffee. She continued on into the kitchen and flipped the light on, since the weather outside made it gloomy, and measured off the coffee before hitting the start switch.
It made a friendly, percolating sound as the water emerged, and she stepped back, stretching her arms overhead and considering what to rummage up for breakfast.
Okay, brunch.
Kerry glanced at the clock. Lunch, if they followed their usual schedule. She ran her hands through her hair and yawned again, smiling as Chino trotted into the kitchen and sat down in front of her biscuit jar, looking up at Kerry expectantly.
“Oh.” She put one fist on her hip. “So. You think you’ve got me trained, huh?”
“Woof,” Chino barked, then looked up at the jar.
“I don’t think so, madam.”
“Woof!”
Dar peeked inside, then slid her long body around the doorjamb and padded barefoot across the tile, going right to the jar and taking a biscuit out for the puppy, which Chino crunched contentedly.
“Dar!”
The taller woman paused, blinked, then removed a second biscuit and handed it to Kerry. “Sorry. Didn’t know you liked them,” she drawled. “Try some peanut butter on it.”
“Hah, hah.” She tossed the cookie back, as Dar caught it one handed.
“You spoil her so much.”
“Mmm,” Dar acknowledged, a trifle sheepishly. “Seems to be a habit of mine lately.” She slid an arm around Kerry, who had sidled closer, and welcomed the warmth of her body against the kitchen’s air conditioned chill. “Maybe I’m coming down with a virus.”
Kerry snorted into the cotton of her shirt. “You’d be more likely to 106 Melissa Good write a virus than catch one. You’re disgustingly healthy, Dar. Did you know that? I’ve had two colds and a stomach flu since I’ve known you and you haven’t caught anything.”
Dar chuckled. “My body knows how much I hate being sick and it hates putting up with me so much, if I do catch something, it pretends not to notice.” She considered. “I can’t even remember the last time…oh, wait, yes I can.” Her eyes rolled. “I caught food poisoning from the cafeteria at some account I was…consolidating.”
“Ew.” Kerry winced. “I’ve never had it but Mike did once, and the colors he turned would have done Van Gogh proud.”
“Yeah. I was so sick I didn’t stop throwing up for…God, it seemed like forever,” Dar acknowledged. “I finally ended up just staying in the bathroom. I was too weak to get up.” She pensively paused. “Long couple of days.”
Kerry’s brow creased. “Why didn’t you call someone to help you?
God, Dar.”
The blue eyes studied her. “There wasn’t anyone to call,” she replied, very simply. “It was in my old place in the grove. Just me and a few liz-ards.”
It struck her, now, the realization of just how alone Dar had bee
n before they’d met. “Wow,” she touched the dark haired woman comfortingly, “well, if your body happens to forget now rest assured you’ll be taken care of.”
Dar’s lips briefly tensed into a smile. “That might be worth getting sick for,” she allowed, resting her forearms on Kerry’s shoulders. “So,”
her eyes went to the window, “what do you feel like doing today?”
“Well, we’ve both got inboxes to clear…and laundry. We could get caught up on everything for a change.”
“Mmm.” Dar sounded very noncommittal.
“Or, we could laze around together on the couch all day and watch cartoons.”
A frank, unrepentant grin flashed back at her.
“Okay. So. Now that we’ve got that settled, go find Space Ghost, and I’ll bring out the coffee and whatever I find for breakfast.”
Dar obediently ambled out into the living room and flipped the TV
on. Grabbing the remote, she found a nice, soft spot on the couch to curl up on, wincing a bit as the cold leather took its time warming to her body.
Thunder rolled outside, and she lay down on her side, propping her head up with one hand as she surfed.
Always liked rainy days, she reflected idly, listening to the hard pattering outside. They were good times to read, or watch old movies, or... A grin played over her face, remembering the long summer afternoons on the base spent constructing models. Much to her mother’s despair. All those intricate, tiny pieces and the scent of glue, so carefully painted and put into place.
Haven’t thought about that in forever. How many hours had she lost herself in those? All the ships of the fleet, each with its proper, exact Eye of the Storm 107
markings and then coming home from college one time, and finding them gone. Given to some shelter or other because her mother thought she’d outgrown them.
She’d rarely ever been that angry. She hadn’t spoken to her mother for a month after that, until her father had sought her out and made peace. Like always, able to bridge their differences with his love for her mother and his understanding of Dar, they’d depended on him for that.
Maybe that was why after he was gone…
Dar sighed, releasing the memories as Kerry entered, bearing a small tray with two steaming cups and a basket of something that smelled cin-namony and sweet. “Ooo…what have we here?” She grinned at her lover.
“A nice healthy breakfast, I see.”
Kerry stuck her tongue out. “We’re low on bean sprouts. I had to improvise.” She set the tray down with the coffee and cinnamon rolls and then took a seat on the wide couch next to Dar’s sprawled form. “I didn’t think you’d object.” She tore a roll in half and offered it to her lover.
“Nope.” Dar chewed the sweet pastry contentedly, saving a small piece for the cream colored Labrador head that magically appeared in front of her face. Then she licked her fingers off and took a sip of her coffee, put it back down, and curled an arm around Kerry to bring her closer.
“Hmm.” The blonde woman relaxed onto her side and pressed her back against Dar’s warmth, sharing the colorful, soft throw pillow. “Oh yeah. I can deal with this all day.” She yawned and snuggled closer. “I like rainy days.” Idly, she picked up a few bits of mail lying on the table and sorted through them. “How did we get on a mailing list for X rated videos?”
Dar lifted her head to peer at the item. “Mmm…videos…means video recorders, which means electronics, which means high technology which means computers. Can you figure out how we got on a list for that?”
Kerry paused and thought. “Nope.” She shrugged and chucked the mail, which Chino ran and retrieved for her, setting it down hopefully next to the couch. “Let’s see…your Microsoft newsletter. Want that?”
“No.”
“Here you go, Chino. What about the small computer book club offer?”
“Oh. Right. I need more small computer books.”
“Right.” Toss. “Invitation to a time share in Las Vegas?”
“Nah. They don’t like me there,” Dar responded. “I know too much about the systems programming.”
“Okay.” Kerry peered at the next envelope. “Oh. You’re having a class reunion.”
A brow arched.
She passed the envelope back. “Here. Oh wait. Don’t move. I’ll open it.”
Dar hadn’t stirred an inch. “Did I say I wanted to see it?” she grum-108 Melissa Good bled, then sighed as Kerry opened the green and orange striped envelope and pulled out its contents. “I’m not going.”
“Aw.” Kerry read with interest. “Why not? It’s here next weekend. It looks like fun, Dar. It’s a ‘come as you were’ party.” She showed the flyer to her lover. “C’mon.”
A blue eye pinned her. “High school wasn’t a time I remember all that fondly, Kerry. I think I was voted ‘Girl Most Likely To Be Incarcer-ated.’” She chuckled self deprecatingly. “It was the start of that rebellious phase I mentioned.”
“All the more reason,” the blonde woman responded. “Don’t you want to go back there and prove otherwise? Didn’t you really get a kick out of doing that with your relatives?”
Hmm. A brow lifted in thought.
“I wouldn’t call it a kick,” Dar murmured, then shook her head. “No.
I really didn’t get along with the crowd that’s organizing this.” She pointed at some names. “Key Clubbers. Bet they haven’t changed.” She gave Kerry a suspicious look. “Why are you so enthusiastic about this?”
Kerry grinned, her nose wrinkling up cheerfully. “I want to indulge my newly discovered hedonistic tendencies. I want to see you in leather.”
She got a definite “look” in return. “You what?”
“And chains and the torn clothes.” Green eyes sparkled. “Though,”
Kerry riffled through Dar’s hair, “I think we can fake the spikes.”
Dar started laughing. “Jesus, Kerry. You gotta be kidding. I don’t have that stuff around anymore and even if I did, it’d never fit.” Then she remembered the boxes still sealed in the storage area. She bit her lip. Nah.
A finger touched her nose. “I bet we could find something,” Kerry coaxed. “C’mon, Dar. Hey. Tell you what. I’ll even rent you a motorcycle or something for the night.”
Dar clapped a hand over her eyes. “How d’you even know I know how to ride one?” she objected faintly. “Kerry, I can’t just—”
“Sure you can. Lots of people go to their high school reunions.”
Long fingers drummed on the couch’s leather surface. “Okay,” Dar finally responded. “On one condition.”
Triumph! Kerry squirmed around and faced her, with a delighted grin. “Name it.”
Now it was Dar’s turn to grin. “You come with me.”
A snort. “Of course. You think I’d let an opportunity like this go by?
Me and the digital camera—”
“Dressed the same way,” the low voice interrupted her slyly.
Kerry stopped and blinked. “Uh.” Slowly a finger pointed at her own chest. “Me?” Her face scrunched up in comedic dismay, as she fingered her Tweety shirt. “Dar, I’m not very convincing in leather. Really.”
Dar waited, her eyes twinkling.
Kerry sighed. “Well, okay. I’m pretty sure I’ll look goofy, but if that’s what it takes, that’s what I’ll do.” She gave Dar a firm nod. “Kerry, Biker Chick, will be there.”
Hmm. Dar let a chuckle escape as they snuggled together, and the Eye of the Storm 109
thunder rolled around them. This might even be kind of fun.
IT WAS STILL raining as Kerry pulled up to the office. She tugged up her rain hood before she ducked out of the Mustang and made the short dash to the front door. The security guard saw her coming and stepped on the plate, making the glass portals open and letting her inside with only a minimum drenching. “Morning, Ms. Stuart.”
“Hi. Morning.” Kerry pushed her hood back and shook her head, scattering a few droplets from he
r hair. “Wow. Lousy weather, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The guard peered behind her expectantly. “Ms. Roberts coming along with you?”
Kerry smiled. “No. She’s got a meeting this morning.” Not true.
“She’ll be by in a bit.” Dar was, in reality, not far behind her, but they decided to take separate cars this week, since their unwelcome board member was roaming around and Kerry had been assigned to escort him.
Neither of them went out of their way to hide their relationship, but there was no point in advertising it to the already antagonistic Ankow.
She was alone in the elevator and remained that way as she got out on the fourteenth floor—not surprising given the hour. María was in, though, and she smiled at the secretary as she poked her head in Dar’s outer office. “Morning.”
“Ah. Good morning, Kerrisita.” María smiled back. “Is terrible weather, no?” Her eyes went to the barely visible hallway behind Kerry’s head. “Dar is not with you?”
It occurred to Kerry that coming separately might possibly cause more comment than just arriving together would. “She took her car,” she explained. “Is our visitor here yet?”
The dark head shook no. “His plane is landing at nine. We are sending Consuelo for him.”
Ah, Consuelo. Not a bad idea. “Is she still moonlighting as a dancer?”
“Sí.” María smiled primly. “Is so cultural, no?”
Kerry bit off a grin. “Absolutely. Hey, Maríana tells me she’s gotten approval for my assistant. I hear it’s someone familiar.” She’d been surprised at the move and astounded at the person Maríana had hired for her. They’d been putting off the addition for a while, with Kerry stating she really didn’t need one, more to prevent having to deal with the awkwardness of bringing a stranger in than anything else. But now, with all the new projects, it was unfair to ask María to coordinate for both of them and Maríana had gone ahead, putting Kerry’s fears to rest by hiring María’s young daughter whom she and Dar already knew.
Who also knew about them and was a quiet, reserved girl not much for spreading rumors around.
María beamed. “Mayte is so excited. She spent the entire weekend choosing what clothes and how to do her hair. She cannot wait to start.
