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Lightning Strykes

Page 21

by Sherryl Hancock


  “Li se pa m ', Papa, Mwen swete li te,” Remington said, her tone sad.

  “Ah wi mwen konnen,” Andre said, waving his hand dismissively as he shrugged. “Goumen se ou,” he added, making Remington grimace and look away.

  Lissette, who’d chosen to sit next to Wynter, leaned over, turning her head to talk in Wynter’s ear without being seen.

  “This is an argument they have all the time. Our father doesn’t understand why she won’t take over the farm when he retires, and Mem doesn’t understand why he doesn’t get that she’s not a breeder.”

  “It hurts her that he’s disappointed,” Wynter whispered to Lissette.

  “I know,” Lissette said. “I don’t know why Papa refuses to see that too.”

  Lissette turned back to the table and saw that Remington was watching her with slightly narrowed eyes. She looked back at her big sister and shrugged.

  After dinner Remington walked over to where Lissette and Wynter sat talking. She leaned down, her elbows on the back of Wynter’s chair, her look narrowed once again.

  “What was that about?” Remington asked Lissette.

  Lissette looked back at Remington. “You and papa were being rude speaking Creole in front of Wynter.”

  Remington tilted her head, her eyes narrowing more. “Because it’s family business.”

  “It is rude to speak Creole in front of people who do not understand,” Lissette insisted.

  Remington lips tightened, but then she blew her breath out, shaking her head.

  “I apologize,” she said to Wynter, “it’s just a sore spot with my father and me.”

  Wynter nodded. “I understand,” she said, reaching up to put her hand over Remington’s.

  Later, they were back in bed after having made love again. Wynter was laying on her back, with Remington on her side next to her, her head above hers on the pillow.

  “So, what do you want to do while we’re here?” Remington asked Wynter.

  Wynter’s fingers were intertwined in Remington’s, and she was examining how incredibly sexy her fingers were. She glanced up, surprised by the question.

  “I’m here with you,” she said. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

  Remington grinned. “Okay, do you ride?”

  Wynter looked mystified for a moment, then said, “You mean horses?”

  Remington pressed her lips together, Wynter assumed in an effort not to reply with something smart assed. “Yes, I mean horses. You are on a horse farm, babe.”

  Wynter made a face at her. “I know that, thank you,” she said, “and no, I’ve never ridden a horse in my life. They don’t have horses in Reseda.”

  “I see,” Remington said, “have you ever been around horses?”

  “Does being in a parade where there were horses present count?” Wynter asked.

  Remington shook her head, grinning. “No, that does not count,” she said. “Are you afraid of horses?”

  “I don’t think so,” Wynter said.

  “Well, we’ll just take it slow till we know for sure,” Remington said.

  “So I guess you ride, huh?” Wynter said.

  “Since I was three,” Remington said, grinning.

  “Three?” Wynter asked, looking stunned.

  Remington nodded.

  “Wow,” Wynter said, shaking her head. “Do you have your own horse?”

  “Yes, I do,” Remington said.

  “Is it a thoroughbred?” Wynter asked.

  “No, he’s a Friesian,” Remington said. Then she chuckled seeing Wynter’s perplexed look. “It’s another breed of horse. They come from the Netherlands originally. I like them because they’re spectacular-looking creatures.”

  “Okay,” Wynter said, nodding.

  Remington pointed to picture of a black horse on the wall opposite the bed. In the picture the horse was rearing on its hindquarters with a dark forbidding looking storm cloud behind it. The horse’s black coat was incredibly shiny, and its mane and tail looked extremely long. It also had long hair at its feet.

  “That’s a Friesian?” Wynter asked.

  “That’s my Friesian,” Remington said proudly.

  “That’s a seriously beautiful horse,” Wynter said, nodding.

  “Mèsi,” Remington said, smiling.

  “What’s his name?” Wynter asked.

  “Satan,” Remington said.

  “Seriously?” Wynter asked.

  Remington chuckled, nodding. “He threw me a few times; it’s what I started calling him after about the third time when I broke my arm.”

  “He threw you?” Wynter asked, her look shocked.

  “That’s just part of horses, babe, you learn to get back up pretty quick.”

  “I guess… but you broke your arm?” she asked.

  “In two places,” Remington said, not seeming bothered by it.

  “Ouch,” Wynter said, grimacing. “And you want me to ride a horse?”

  Remington laughed. “I would never put you on a horse that would throw you,” Remington said, “but if you are too nervous about it, you can just ride with me.”

  “Hmmm…” Wynter murmured grinning.

  “What?” Remington asked, seeing the look Wynter was giving her.

  “I’m thinking you on a horse… and me in front of you…” Her voice trailed off suggestively.

  Remington looked immediately affected by the mental picture Wynter had just painted.

  “You’re trying to kill me, right?” Remington said, her tone husky.

  “No ma’am…” Wynter said, shaking her head. “Just answering your question.”

  “Ou se sa ki mal,” Remington said, narrowing her eyes.

  “I understood that,” Wynter said, batting her eyes up at Remington.

  “Bon,” Remington said.

  “Which is…” Wynter said.

  “It means good.” Remington told her.

  “Bon,” Wynter said.

  “Trey bien,” Remington said, smiling.

  “Mèsi,” Wynter countered.

  Remington just shook her head, smiling.

  “Oh, there is one thing I want to do while we’re here,” Wynter said.

  “What’s that?” Remington asked.

  “I want to see you get your braids redone,” Wynter said.

  “Why?” Remington said.

  “You said that the lady that does it here is the one you prefer,” Wynter said.

  “She is,” Remington said, nodding. “But why do you want to see it?”

  “Because I want to see you with your hair out of the braids,” Wynter said.

  Remington looked back at her for a long moment. “And what will that accomplish?”

  “Probably give me all new fantasies for months,” Wynter said, winking at her.

  Remington rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “If you say so.”

  “I do,” Wynter said.

  The next morning, Remington woke before Wynter. She climbed out of bed, pulling on her jeans and taking a black cable knit sweater out of a drawer. She laced up her books and grabbed her Affliction jacket, checking to ensure her cigarettes and lighter were in the pocket. She walked over to kiss Wynter on the cheek then left the room quietly.

  Lissette found her out on the back porch smoking and drinking coffee.

  “Bonjou,” Lissette said, putting her arms around Remington’s shoulders and leaning down to kiss her sister’s cheek, hugging her from behind.

  “Bonjou,” Remington responded, smiling up at Lissette.

  “Where’s Wynter?” Lissette asked, perching in the chair next to where Remington sat.

  “Still asleep,” Remington said, glancing over at her sister. “Why?”

  Lissette shrugged. “You two are a couple, aren’t you?”

  Remington thought for a moment before answering. “Yes, but just recently, like two days ago.”

  “But you liked her long before that,” Lissette said.

  “Why do you say that?” Remington asked.
r />   “Come on, Mem. I saw those videos like the rest of the world did, but I know you,” Lissette said smiling warmly. “When you were talking to her in Creole I could hear it in your voice. Mom and Dad heard it too.”

  Remington licked her lips, her look contemplative. Finally, she sighed, nodding. “Yeah, I’ve liked her for a while.”

  “I knew it!” Lissette said, smiling. “She’s really beautiful, and so talented!”

  “Oke fasil kounye a,” Remington said, her eyes widening at her little sister, telling her ‘easy now. ’

  “Mom and Dad like her,” Lissette said then. “I heard them talking.”

  “Eavesdropping?” Remington said, her tone chiding, even as her eyes narrowed.

  “Oh, come on, like you never did!” Lissette said, shaking her head. “That time you were caught with Genevieve and you were trying to figure out how mad they were?”

  “You aren’t supposed to remember that,” Remington said, grinning.

  “Well, I do, so…” Lissette said, sticking her tongue out at her sister. “Anyway, they think it’s a good match, you and Wynter.”

  “Well, let’s hope they’re not planning a wedding or anything,” Remington said, rolling her eyes.

  “Why?” Lissette asked, looking crestfallen. “You wouldn’t marry her?”

  Remington looked at her sister. “You just want to be able to say that Wynter Kincade is your sister,” she said wryly.

  “Well, yeah!” Lissette said, laughing. “But I want to see you happy too and she seems to make you happy…” she said, her voice trailing off as she rolled her eyes heavenward, her look telling Remington that she knew something.

  “What is that look about?” Remington asked.

  “Let’s just say that the air vent in your room feeds directly into mine, and… well you two are not exactly quiet,” Lissette said, looking far too gleeful for Remington’s comfort.

  “O Bondye… tiye Mwen,” Remington said, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head ruefully.

  “What does that mean?” Wynter asked from the door to the patio.

  Remington got to her feet immediately, extending her hand to Wynter. Wynter stepped down onto the patio taking Remington’s hand, smiling. Remington pulled her close and kissed her softly, then pulled back to look down at her.

  “Good morning,” Remington said softly.

  “Bonjou,” Wynter said, her voice equally soft. “Now, what did you just say?”

  “I said ‘kill me,’ ” Remington told her, pulling a chair over to where she was sitting.

  Wynter sat down, giving Remington a shocked look. “And why did you say that?”

  Remington sat in her chair again, glancing at Lissette who was doing her best to suppress her laughter. Remington narrowed her eyes at her sister.

  “Because Lissette just informed me that she’s got far too good hearing and that I need to have our parents change her room,” Remington said, smiling tightly at her sister.

  “Not fair!” Lissette said laughing. “I told her that I can hear you two, um… you know,” she told Wynter, once again rolling her eyes heavenward.

  Wynter looked at Remington with her mouth open slightly. “How did you say that?”

  Remington chuckled. “Tiye Mwen,” she said.

  “Oh yes, please…” Wynter said, shaking her head.

  “O wi tanpri,” Lissette supplied in Creole.

  Wynter exchanged a look with Remington, both of them shaking their heads in embarrassment.

  “So, you know the family is coming to Thanksgiving…” Lissette said, stepping into the silence that ensued, unaware of how mortified Wynter and Remington were that she’d heard them having sex.

  “So your sister and her husband?” Wynter asked Remington, who was looking at Lissette with a look that Wynter didn’t understand.

  “They are?” Remington asked Lissette.

  Lissette smiled broadly, nodding her head.

  “Oh mèt…” Remington breathed.

  “Ou ta dwe konnen,” Lissette said her tone chiding. “Pote lakay li nan jou fèt la.”

  “Ou gen rezon,” Remington said, shaking her head and grinning at the same time.

  Wynter looked back and forth between them, not understanding a word they were saying.

  “Uh, excuse me,” Wynter said, holding up her hand. “Didn’t you say it was rude to speak Creole around someone who didn’t speak it?” she asked, looking pointedly at Remington.

  Remington folded her upper lip under her teeth, closing her eyes, knowing she had been caught by her own words.

  “Yes,” she said, “I apologize, but Lissette just kind of shocked me.”

  “Okay,” Wynter said, “I’ll forgive you this time if you tell me what you two were saying.”

  Remington blew her breath out, looking like she really didn’t want to do that.

  “She’s somehow surprised that the whole family is coming for Thanksgiving this year,” Lissette said. “I told her that she should have known that it was going to happen that way since she brought you home.”

  Wynter looked at Remington who’d just lit another cigarette and took a deep drag, blowing the smoke out a full minute later.

  “Why is that a big deal?” Wynter asked.

  “Our family is rather large,” Lissette said, grinning.

  “How large?” Wynter asked, look cautious.

  Remington smiled weakly. “The house will be full.”

  “O bondye…” Wynter said with such shock and in such perfect intonation it made Remington burst into laughter.

  “Well said,” Remington said, when she was able to talk again, nodding with a huge smile on her face.

  “Okay,” Wynter said trying to cope with this information, “but they’ve met other women you’ve dated, right?”

  Wynter and Lissette exchanged a look then they both looked at Wynter and shook their heads.

  “Mem’s never brought a girl home before,” Lissette said, grinning broadly.

  “So your family’s never met anyone you’ve dated?” Wynter asked.

  “Well, they’ve met the ones that live around here,” Remington said, “but not the others.”

  “Wait, wait, wait…” Wynter said, holding up her hand. “The ones around here?” she queried pointedly.

  “I’ve lived here my whole life, Wyn,” Remington said, a wry grin on her lips.

  “Are they still here too?” Wynter asked, her look more pointed.

  Remington looked at Lissette, who widened her eyes slightly, and then looked back at Wynter.

  “I don’t really know for sure…” she said hesitantly.

  Wynter looked at Lissette. “How many of them still live here?”

  “Well, there’s Genevieve and Britt, oh and Alisana and Bettina of course, she lives down the road,” Lissette said, glancing at Remington’s glowering face.

  Wynter looked at Remington, her look contemplative. “That many? Just here?”

  “Well… I mean…” Remington stammered. “Gena and Britt were high school.”

  “Uh-huh,” Wynter said, “you had two girlfriends in high school? When did you come out?”

  “When I was about fifteen,” Remington said.

  “So two girlfriends in three years…” Wynter said.

  “Two years,” Lissette corrected. “Mem graduated a year early.”

  “Ou pa yo ap ede,” Remington muttered to Lissette.

  Lissette grimaced. “Sorry,” she said.

  At Wynter’s pointed glare, Remington looked contrite. “I just told her that she’s not helping,” Remington said.

  “Oh, but she is,” Wynter said, smiling evilly.

  “Wyn…” Remington said, her tone reasoning, “these girls were a long time ago.”

  “And apparently rather abundant,” Wynter said. “No wonder you’re so…” she started to say, but stopped herself.

  Remington gave her a questioning look.

  “Bon,” Wynter said, her look pointed.

&nb
sp; Remington laughed, dropping her head and shaking it, even as Lissette looked at them perplexed.

  “Okay, so now I need to go shopping too,” Wynter said.

  “Why?” Remington asked.

  “If you’re whole family is coming, I need to look good,” Wynter said.

  “Babe, you look good in jeans and a T-shirt,” Remington said.

  “Yeah… and I’m betting this isn’t a jeans and T-shirt kind of holiday here, is it?” Wynter asked, narrowing her eyes at Remington.

  “Well, no,” Remington said.

  “You’re on my list right now, so you need to just smile and agree to whatever I ask for at this point, okay?” she said, smiling sweetly, her eyes sparkling with malice.

  “I think you better take her shopping,” Lissette said to Remington.

  “I think you’re probably right,” Remington said, nodding.

  “Can I come?” Lissette asked brightly.

  Two hours later after breakfast, the three climbed into the Mercedes and headed out.

  “Where did you say we were going?” Wynter asked as she looked around.

  “Louisville,” Remington answered. “That’s apparently where they keep the girly stuff,” she said, winking at Wynter.

  “Not in Lexington?” Wynter asked.

  “According to my mother, Louisville is better,” Remington said.

  “Well, she has great style. I can already see that, so I’ll take her word for it,” Wynter said smiling.

  “Wow…” Lissette said from the back seat a little while later.

  “What?” Remington asked, glancing in the rearview mirror at her sister.

  “You and Wynter are blowing up the internet right now,” Lissette said, grinning.

  “Already?” Remington said, glancing over at Wynter who was already looking it up on her phone.

  “Oh yeah…” Wynter said, nodding and chuckling.

  “What are they saying?” Remington asked.

  “Basically, what I’ve said,” Wynter said, grinning. “That it’s about damned time!”

  Remington rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

  Wynter glanced down at Remington’s phone that was sitting in one of the cup holders plugged in to the car’s stereo.

  “Remi, have you checked your messages this morning?” she asked, grinning.

 

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