by Melissa Good
Ceci nodded in agreement then took the slate. The only thing it lacks is ice tea.
Kerry grinned and held up a finger, then handed the older woman her camera and dove into the chase above her.
NOBODY WAS REALLY sure whose idea the campfire was. But the island provided enough dry, fragrant wood to make one and the sandy ground seemed safe enough to light it on. They’d taken hunks of dead coral, though, just in case and made a circle around the flames.
It was an almost surreal scene, Ceci decided. A tiny island in the middle of the coastal Atlantic, with a view on one side of nothing but black sea broken only by the faint buoy lights. On the other side, the skyline of the city spread to either side, the lights of the beach hotels going north and the outlines of the city buildings to her south.
Above her, the stars floated, obscured by clouds drifting by, and far off against the horizon a storm was brewing, where intermittent lightning burst into view.
It was gorgeous. She leaned against an amiable palm tree and felt the warm sand between her toes, as the breeze brought a whiff of the spicy, boiling mixture in the pot they’d jury rigged over the fire, filled with fresh things captured from the nearby water.
Dar sloshed up out of the water, adding one last thing to the pot with a piratical grin. “Got one.” She pulled her mask off and continued on, dropping her snorkel and mesh bag on a towel and hesitating, then taking a seat relatively near her mother. Kerry was on the boat fixing up something or other and Andrew was still hunting under the waves.
Ceci eyed the smooth, tanned back an arm’s length or so away and considered her options. The day had been pleasant, really—though they were both uncomfortable with each other, Andy and Kerry were doing their respective darndest to smooth things out. The older woman paused, then reached behind her and picked up a folded towel, glancing at it a moment before she cleared her throat gently. “Dar?”
The dark head turned, firelight glinting off pale, wary eyes which met hers, then focused on the towel she held out. “Thanks.” Dar took the fabric and leaned back, opening up her posture a little. They eyed each other. “You…um,” Dar shifted, “might want to think about some aloe.”
“Ah, yes.” Cecilia nodded ruefully. “I feel as red as those lobsters are going to be in there.”
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“Mmm. I think I got a little burned too,” Dar admitted, stretching her long legs out in the sand and wiping them dry.
Wet, disheveled, and covered in sand, Ceci found this version of her daughter far more familiar than the one she’d been dealing with. Dar’s hair was longer now, beyond shoulder length, and her body lengthened and grown into a woman’s proportions that still held a distinct note of her tough, combative youth.
A gulf of time was between them. Ceci studied the strong profile, sadly at a loss for words.
Dar looked up at her suddenly. “Something wrong?”
A gust of cool wind made her shiver, and the words escaped without much thought behind them. “I keep waiting for the alarm to ring and wake me up,” she murmured, regretting the statement almost as it came out of her mouth. She looked away.
Dar’s own eyes dropped to the sand. Damn, this was so hard. She sucked in a breath. “Yeah.” Her fingers found a tiny, perfect scallop in the sand. “It’s a lot to adjust to.”
Ceci leaned her forearms on her knees and rested her chin on them.
“This must be complicating your life,” she remarked wryly, rewarded with the faintest hint of a smile, that wrinkled the skin at the corner of her daughter’s mouth and eyes.
Dar tilted her head in acknowledgement. “It’s not an unwelcome complication,” Dar replied, shifting so they almost faced each other. “I’m glad things worked out.”
Worked out. What an outstandingly understated way to consider a life changing event so vast she couldn’t even begin to encompass it. “Well, thank you for making that phone call.” She cleared her throat. “Though I know you didn’t do it for my benefit.”
Pale eyes peered at her from under dark brows. “Don’t assume that.”
The already low voice deepened. “At least credit me the ability to do the right thing when I know what it is.” But the tone wasn’t angry, merely wistful.
Cecilia felt off balance, yet again. She sighed. “I didn’t mean you wouldn’t, Dar. It just occurred to me, that, given what happened between us, I don’t expect any favors from you.” She sensed the restless motion and half expected Dar to get up and leave—something her daughter had always done when in a confrontation she didn’t want to deal with.
But instead Dar turned further around and moved closer, her gaze now intent and strangely compelling. “Well,” a faintly warm note crept in, “I’ve made a reputation out of doing the unexpected.”
Ceci merely blinked, unsure of what to say.
“I can’t change the past,” her daughter stated flatly, then hesitated.
“Though I would change parts of it, if I could.”
The fire crackled softly, and a splash was heard off the beach. “I would too,” Ceci murmured.
They looked at each other quietly.
Another splash and they turned to see Andrew emerging from the 246 Melissa Good water, the fire outlining his burly wetsuit covered form. He shook himself, then trudged up the beach. “Smells damn nice round here.”
“I’ll second that.” Kerry stepped carefully down the floating bridge Dar had built, carrying an armful of stuff and a basket. The blonde woman had a white cotton overshirt on, her sun darkened skin showing vividly against it, and her hair pulled back into a knot. “Dar, can you grab this?”
“Sure.” Dar scrambled to her feet and hopped onto the wooden surface. She took the basket from her lover and opened the top. “Ah. Plates.”
“Well, yeah.” Kerry stepped past her, with a chuckle. “Did you think we were going to just stick our hands in that pot and start chewing on whatever we pulled out?”
“Sure.”
“Yeap.”
Dar and her father exchanged glances.
Ceci laughed softly, pushed herself to her feet and walked over to join them around the fire. They’d set mats down a safe distance from the flames, and Kerry put her burdens on top of them and poked at the pot’s contents.
“Ooo.” A very spicy, very intense scent emerged. “I think I’m in love.”
“Coulda tolja that…oh, ya mean with that stuff,” Andrew drawled, tousling his grizzled hair dry and snapping Kerry in the butt with the fabric as he ambled past.
“Yeoow…hey!” Kerry hopped around the fire, getting off balance and stumbling right into Dar’s arms. “Whoa, thanks.” She caught herself.
“Hey. You’re all wet.” Her voice caught a little at the odd sensation of the cool dampness warming as their bodies joined.
A dark brow lifted slightly.
“Tch.” Kerry blushed, invisible in the dark but not to Dar’s light touch on her. “Give me a hand with this stuff. Can we put the bits right in a bowl? I brought some.”
“Now, don’t get nervous.” Dar’s whisper tickled her ear, and her breathing quickened a bit.
“I’m not.” Kerry knelt and pulled the round, wooden bowls out.
“What makes you think I am? I don’t think I am. I just want you to give me a hand divvying this stuff up, what makes you think...”
“You’re babbling,” Dar returned. “Relax. It’s just my parents, not yours.”
“Oh.” Kerry clamped her jaw shut and handed Dar a set of long chef’s tongs. “Right. Well, if I had to imagine my parents sitting in the sand on an island, Dar, my brain would explode. So,” she cleared her throat and raised her voice, “I have some Spanish rice in that pot.” She looked up to where Ceci was settling. “Yeah. There, and in that other one is some steamed broccoli.” She stuck a tongue out at the face Dar was making. “It’s not for you, don’t worry.” She looked over Dar’s shoulder.
“Or you either. I know better.” She pointed a long handled
fork at Eye of the Storm 247
Andrew.
They sat down with their bowls of steaming saffron colored rice, covered with spicy seafood bits ranging from grouper to shrimp, with chunks of the lobsters Dar and Andy had tickled out sitting on top.
“Mmm.” Ceci poured a mug of the cold, iced cider and handed it to her husband, then took one for herself. “Good stuff.” The rice was fluffy and perfect, and the broccoli crisp and fresh, and a nice counterpoint to fish, her exception to a usually vegetarian diet.
Or maybe it was just the fresh air and an entire day of activity that made everything taste so wonderful.
Or something.
It really was like a dream. But the longer it went on, the more she realized it was one she was stuck with the good—like this lobster— along with the bad—like sand sticking to parts of her where sand didn’t belong, and like her prickly offspring.
Too much color. Too much emotion and sensations. Making chaos of her formerly orderly existence and filling it with complications and issues. Ceci sighed in wry contentment. It felt very much like home.
Andy removed a very pink shrimp and offered it to her, and she bit down, feeling the crisp flesh give way and release a burst of spice into her mouth.
Nope. Nothing bland here.
Dar leaned back against a big piece of driftwood and settled her bowl in the crook of her arm, then reached out and gave Kerry’s shirt back a light tug. They’d been running around so much all day, she’d hardly had a chance to spend any time near her lover and her body missed that.
“Mmm?” Kerry turned her head then saw the invitation in Dar’s eyes. “Um…” Eeek. Getting all cuddly in front of the older generation still made her a bit squeamish, but... She scooted back and settled in the curve of her lover’s arm, relaxing as it curled around her and gave her a squeeze. Shyly, she glanced at Ceci and Andrew, glad to see only a look of amused indulgence on their faces.
Not that she really expected any different, but you never knew. People said things and thought they meant them, but when they were hit in the face with reality that sometimes flew out the window. She speared a piece of broccoli and bit into it, as the tender skin tensed around her face and shoulders. Her body was a little sore from all the diving and swimming and she suspected she was going to pay for her fun tomorrow, but it had been a great day. She’d gotten some really fantastic pictures, everyone seemed to have fun, and she’d seen signs that Dar and her mother were cautiously approaching each other.
Kerry sighed and wiggled her toes, enjoying the warmth of the fire against the breeze coming off the water. She felt overheated and grubby and was sure she had seaweed in some highly unlikely places, but she couldn’t think of anywhere else she’d rather be.
Chapter
Twenty-seven
DAR WAS CURLED up on the cabin’s small couch, studying some small, encrusted metal bits she’d recovered from the bottom. The drone of the engines was almost soothing. If she really tried, she could put out of her mind the fact that her father was driving the big boat, after giving her a taste of what it was like to try and say no to those big, blue eyes.
A soft sound made her look up to see her mother coming into the cabin, her hair so completely in disarray it appeared she’d stuck a finger into one of the twenty amp sockets in the sidewalls. “I think your father just swamped a Sunfish.”
Dar winced.
Ceci flexed her bare toes and continued across the floor. “This is a lovely setup.” Her hands found a place in the pockets of the soft white cotton pants. “Very functional.”
Dar spread her arms out and looked around the small cabin. “Yeah.
The first time I saw it, it seemed just far too rich, but after I checked it out, most of the trimmings are there for a purpose.” She stroked the wood.
“This weathers well, the fabrics are designed for humidity and sealed, the kitchen gear is nothing fancy. It’s a good working rig.”
Her mother perched on the edge of the counter, which lifted up and doubled as storage. She folded her arms and looked around, nodding.
“You could live on this thing, really.”
“The thought’s occurred to me,” Dar admitted. “Except using a sat hook up to download mail’s a bitch.” Her name being called made her look up. “Yeah?”
“D—oh, there you are.” Kerry scrambled down into the space.
“Would you p—oh, sorry, hi. Am I interrupting?” She paused, giving Cecilia an apologetic look.
“No, no. We were just discussing the boat.” She lifted a slim hand.
“Go on.”
“I’m trying to describe that weird fish we saw, and your father keeps trying to tell me it was a parrot fish. I keep telling him it wasn’t. Do me a favor, would you? Draw it so I can show him?”
“Didn’t you get a picture of it?” Dar queried, sitting up and putting her forearms on table.
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“Yes, but that’s got to wait for developing.” Kerry sat down next to her with a pad and pencil. “Please?”
“Oh, all right.” The dark haired woman gave her an indulgent look and accepted the pencil. She propped her head up with her other hand as she moved the pad into a more comfortable position. “This was the one with the red and blue stripes and the pig nose, right?”
“Roman nose.”
“Well, I always heard Romans were pigs.” Dar smiled. “Okay. I remember that one. You flipped upside down to take its picture.”
“That’s the one.” Kerry eased away and slipped into the kitchen area, giving Ceci a smile as she poured herself a cup of coffee from the thermos clamped on the counter. “Would you like some?”
“Sure, thank you,” Ceci answered absently, her entire peripheral attention focused on the powerful hand moving the pencil across the paper with sure, confident scratches.
An eye formed.
A round body tapered in back, and properly three-dimensional.
A wide, sturdy tail.
Feathery fins caught in mid motion by a knowledgeable hand.
Cecilia’s eyes followed the dark lines flowing easily from Dar’s imagination, feeling like she’d just walked into a room and been greeted by a little gray man from Mars. Wearing a bow tie.
Speaking French.
For thirty years she’d been convinced the only thing she and her offspring shared was a mutual antagonism and a grudging similarity in musical tastes.
And now here she sat, watching a bit of herself come alive and emerge from those long, tapered fingertips.
Dear Goddess.
A wisp of steam warmed her hand, and she started, then looked at a pair of warm green eyes over a cup of coffee. “Oh,” Ceci murmured, taking the cup. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Kerry’s voice had deepened slightly. She circled the table and settled next to Dar, sipping her coffee and watching her fish emerge. “That’s exactly the one.”
“Uh huh. Thought so. No way was it a parrot,” Dar muttered, sketching in the curious markings on the fish, in a light phosphorescence. “Did you see that little gold triangle, just above the gills?” She made a few last additions, then pushed the pad over. “Okay?”
Kerry regarded the pretty fish with a smile, then lifted her eyes and met Ceci’s. “What do you think?”
A hot flush tingled Dar’s skin, as she realized she’d forgotten that her mother had been standing there watching. A half dozen defensive words filled her mouth clamoring for her tongue’s attention as she tensed and half turned, her tired mind scrambling to deal with the unexpected embarrassment.
Ceci pulled the pad over and studied it. “Well, I’m no expert but I 250 Melissa Good think you’re right. It’s not a parrotfish,” she remarked softly. “It is a really nice sketch, though.” Her eyes slipped up to meet Dar’s, finding her daughter with such a deer in the headlights expression she almost started laughing.
But no.
Instead, she looked at Kerry, whose mossy green eyes held a definit
e twinkle in them. Why, that little stinker. Ceci felt a jolt of surprise . She did that on purpose.
“Thanks, Dar.” Kerry captured the pad and stood, then leaned over and brushed the top of her lover’s head with her lips. “Be right back.” She bolted out the cabin door and leaped for the ladder, scaled it, and hopped up onto the flying bridge with a chortle. “Bingo!”
Andrew looked up from his instruments and grinned rakishly at her.
“Very smooth, kumquat. Fell for it, did she?”
“Hhhhook, line and ssssinker.” Kerry did a little gopher dance, then showed him the pad. “See?”
Andrew glanced at the picture. “Wall, spin my tail and call me spooky. Wouldja look at that?” He tilted the small instrument light towards the pad and examined the fish. His eyebrows jerked, then knit.
“Cec say anything?”
“She said it was a good sketch,” Kerry replied. “And that it wasn’t a parrotfish.” She poked Andy in the ribs. “Did I do good?”
He ruffled her hair affectionately. “Hell, yes. C’mere, since you like this so damn much.” He gave her an awkward hug and a pat on the back.
“Wanna help me steer this thing?”
“Sure.” Kerry peered into the pitch darkness. “Is that the buoy?
Yeah. Hey, I always wanted to do something…”
“What?”
“This.” Kerry shoved both the throttles forward and the bow lifted as the wind suddenly screamed past her. “Oh yeah.”
“Son of a…”
KERRY TRUDGED INTO the living room, her Tweety Bird shirt draped over one shoulder and a bottle of aloe lotion in one hand, meeting Dar coming out of her office, followed by Chino. “Hey. Can I beg a favor?”
Dar observed the nearly naked woman with two hiked brows.
“Beg?” she murmured, eyes going a little round.
“Tch.” Kerry butted her head against one of her friend’s shoulders.
“Slather me, please?” She held out the bottle. “I feel like I’m being compressed in saran wrap.”
Dar took the aloe and squeezed some out, then delicately turned her subject around and spread it. “So. Did you win the bet?” she asked casually, tracing a damp, green line over the pink area across the back of Kerry’s neck.
