Tropical Storm - DK1

by Melissa Good

  Dar got up and circled the desk, then crouched down next to her, her features almost wholly in shadow as she blocked the light from the candle.

  “You don’t have to do what they want, you know that, right?”

  Kerry’s eyes held a quiet, shuttered sorrow. “It’s easy for you to say that.”

  She laid her cheek against her forearm. “It’s a lot harder for me to live it.” She blinked a few times. “I feel like I have a responsibility to them.”

  Dar sat down and leaned back against the couch, facing away from her younger companion. “I used to believe that, too,” she murmured. “After my father died, I thought my responsibility was taking care of my mother. I was going to give up this job, move to Richmond…”

  Kerry gazed at the dark, sleek head inches from her face. Almost hypnotized, she watched her fingers reach out and tangle themselves in an errant lock. “Why didn’t you?” she asked softly.

  “She told me she didn’t want anything to do with me.” Dar’s voice was quiet but matter-of-fact. “I reminded her too much of what she’d lost.” Feeling a slight tug on her hair, she turned her head and glanced at Kerry. “That’s when I figured out the only person I was ever going to be responsible for was myself.” She held the younger woman’s eyes. “Follow your heart, Kerry, don’t 132 Melissa Good live for someone else’s dreams.”

  It was the closest they’d ever been to each other, mere inches separating them, so close they were breathing the same air. So close Kerry could see the faint, almost invisible scar just above Dar’s right eye, and the crystal clarity—

  even in the low light—of her pale blue irises. She became aware of a sound that she only later realized was her own heartbeat, hammering in her ears in irregular rhythm. “I-I’ll try to…to keep that in mind,” she stuttered.

  Dar turned her eyes towards the door and broke the tension. “Can I interest you in more of that peanut stuff?”

  Kerry swallowed a few times. “Um, sure. They were small plates.”

  They exchanged wry glances then laughed in thinly veiled relief.

  DAR LEANED HER head out of the window, studying the worsening weather. The trees outside were almost obscured by rain, and the wind was pulling branches from them, slapping the leaves against the building and leaving dark green streaks against the wall’s surface.

  A wet, cool breeze blew her hair back, and she turned her face into it for some relief. She’d opened a window on the opposite side of the apartment to get a cross-breeze, but it was still very stuffy inside, and scarfing down the spicy stir fry hadn’t helped matters. Dar glanced behind her to where Kerry was lying on the floor, her hands folded over her slim waist and her eyes closed. Even from where she was, in the flickering light Dar could see the sheen of sweat on the younger woman’s face, and she felt a twinge of sympathy as a droplet trickled down from her own temple.

  It was well past midnight, but sleeping was almost impossible, at least for Dar, who was used to the air-conditioned peace of her water bed-equipped room. She enjoyed her comforts and didn’t mind admitting that—roughing it in the outdoors with bugs and snakes was not her idea of a good time. With a sigh, she rested her chin on the windowsill, and put up with the soft mist of water which drenched her skin.

  Still, she was glad Kerry was there. She was getting to feel comfortable with her, too—a slow, insidious relaxation of her usually very stiff and very prickly outer shell, that she was only half-heartedly trying to stop.

  “Anything interesting out there?” Kerry’s voice floated up softly.

  “Rain and wind,” Dar replied in a mumble. “It’s just a little cooler, though.” She felt a warmth at her back, and instinctively moved over to make room as Kerry sidled up next to her, poking her nose out into the darkness.

  “See?”

  Kerry hitched herself up and leaned out, shaking her blonde head as rain dripped on it. “God, you can’t see a thing…not even lights from the city.” She tipped further forward and felt a sudden, warm pressure against her back as Dar stuck a hand out to make sure she didn’t fall over. Despite her overheated state, it felt good, a comfortingly safe sensation that made her bold enough to lean out a little further, to see what she could see.

  “Hey, careful,” Dar warned, moving a little closer just in case she was needed. Kerry now had her entire head out in the rain, and she was peering around with interest. The wind was blowing her dampened hair back and she Tropical Storm 133

  looked, for a moment, very much like a cocker spaniel enjoying a drive.

  “Wow, look at those palm trees, Dar!” Kerry lifted one hand and pointed, then grabbed the sill again. “They’re almost going sideways!”

  “You’re almost going sideways,” Dar protested, tucking her arm securely around Kerry’s waist and leaning out on one elbow. “Oh yeah, I see them.

  Hey, watch it!” She pulled herself backwards, dragging Kerry with her as a coconut slammed against the windowsill, leaving a brown scuff. She could feel laughter under her tensed arm, and she released her companion with a belated start. “You could have gotten beaned in the head, Kerry!”

  “What a great story that would have made.” Kerry giggled. “Can you imagine? I come in Monday with a bandage on my head, and have to tell everyone I got smacked by a flying coconut whizzing by your window.”

  Dar chuckled in reaction. “That would be a little hard to explain,” she admitted. “This freak storm’s going to be hard enough to recover from—Mark had to spend six hours just doing unplanned backups, not to mention transferring operations up to Charlotte.”

  Kerry shook herself rapidly, scattering droplets of water all over Dar and the carpet. “Oh.” She lifted a hand to her mouth in embarrassment. “Sorry, Dar.”

  The older woman started laughing. “You’re more fun than a puppy, you know that?” She shook her head and went to a closet just outside the study, coming back with a fluffy, pale blue towel and handing it to her. “Here.”

  The towel was soft, and smelled freshly laundered. Kerry buried her face in it, then dried herself off with quiet contentment. She looked up at Dar from under damp eyelashes and even damper bangs. “More fun than a puppy, huh?” There was, she was alert enough to recognize, definitely some chemistry going on between them. A dynamic, shifting feeling that was half playfulness and half something deeper, more serious.

  Dar was her boss. She knew she couldn’t forget that. But she also knew the tall, dark-haired woman was becoming a friend, and she had no intention of putting a stop to that either. Dar was too interesting, too complex a challenge for her to pass up. She wanted to know more about her, to know why she did what she did. So many people were shallow, so easy for Kerry to read that they were almost boring. Dar…fascinated her. Just being around the woman, she felt a thrill of adventure.

  Kerry liked that. Just like she adored roller coasters, and fast racing boats, and steep downhill skiing. She glanced up at Dar through her bangs and grinned. Then she barked like a dog.

  Dar just put a hand over her eyes and laughed. “I think this weather’s bringing out an unexpected side to you.” She picked up the candle and motioned Kerry towards the door. “C’mon, no sense in letting a perfectly good half gallon of ice cream melt.”

  “Ice cream?” Kerry finished toweling herself off and let the terrycloth drape around her neck as she followed Dar into the dark living room. “Let me guess…another of your food groups?” Following the candle, she padded into the kitchen and stopped just short of crashing into her companion. Dar had opened the still, quiet freezer and pulled something out, bringing a wave of icy cold air with it. “Ooo, can we just climb in there?”

  134 Melissa Good

  “No.” Dar closed the door and felt around in a nearby drawer, retrieving two spoons. “Here, hold this.” She handed Kerry the candle and gave her a nudge back towards the study. “Espresso chip, it’s great.”

  They put the container on the floor and sat down on the carpet facing each other, armed with their
spoons. Dar took the first spoonful and sucked on it happily.

  Kerry put a bit on her spoon and tasted it, then grinned. “Ooo.” They shared in silence for a few moments, then Kerry shifted a little, resting her elbows on her knees. “So, um, the picture up there. Is that a karate kind of thing you were doing?”

  “Tae kwan do,” Dar replied offhandedly. “Yeah.”

  Green eyes studied her curiously. “You still do it?”

  Dar took another spoonful before she answered. “Yes, among other things. I tried out a few different disciplines. I mostly keep to that, with a little judo and jujitsu mixed in.” She chuckled. “They’re old-fashioned and not the trendy stuff, but I like the traditions.”

  “Must take a lot of practice. My brother was involved in that for a few years. He got up to a…” Kerry thought, “…a brown belt, but he stopped doing it for a year, then tried to go back, didn’t work.”

  “Most every night, I meet a trainer over at the island gym. We work for about two hours, depends on what’s been going on that day.” A faint smile chased Dar’s lips. “Sometimes I’m more in the mood for the rough stuff.”

  “Oh, I get it—stress relief.” Kerry scooped up a spoonful of creamy treat.

  “That sounds like a good idea,” she said.

  Dar nodded. “Yeah, it is. I get my frustrations out and it’s not so tempting to go over the table at someone in one of those damn meetings.” She studied Kerry quietly. “It helps clear your mind, too, and it comes in handy in places like Miami.” Her eyes twinkled gravely. “You might want to think about picking up a class around your neck of the woods.”

  Kerry licked her spoon. “I wanted to, when I was younger. When Mike was taking classes. I begged and begged, but no way, no how would they let me.” She considered that long-ago refusal. “I think I would have been better than he was, too. He’s shorter than I am, and he’s really clumsy.” Her eyes lifted to Dar’s. “It’s a little late for me to be starting that kind of thing. I walk a lot, Rollerblade, that sort of stuff. I used to do aerobics, but I got really bored with it.”

  “Not challenging enough?” Dar inquired innocently.

  “Eyah, something like that. Actually, I just couldn’t take the instructors. I just wanted to give them wedgies all the time.”

  Dar laughed. Horses, water… Ah. “Well, you probably haven’t had a chance to look through the global discounts page yet, but we just got membership benefits at the new gym right across from the office. They’ve got a nice indoor climbing wall and a good selection of classes. I was thinking about switching to that one.”

  “Yeah?” Kerry sucked on her spoon, then removed it and looked at it.

  “Maybe a gym’s a good idea,” she remarked. “If I took up boxing, maybe I could get away with having a pint of this every day.”

  “If you want, I could take you through some of the basics, just to see if Tropical Storm 135

  you’re interested in continuing,” Dar commented casually, then she stopped and gazed, unseeing, at the candle. “Once I find out what’s going on Tuesday, I mean.”

  Kerry caught the change in mood and she went with her instincts, putting her spoon down and reaching over to curl her fingers over Dar’s hand.

  “Everything’s going to be okay; I really believe that, Dar. And I’d love to learn from you.”

  Dar nodded. “All right. We’ll start on Wednesday then, okay?” How much difference would it make if she confirmed her fears anyway? She’d lived with the possibility for years, and she’d already made the decision that whatever the results, it wouldn’t change the way she lived her life. That was what her father had chosen. It had, in the end, killed him, but it had been on his terms.

  He’d just forgotten how damn hard it would be on everyone else. Well, I don’t have to worry about that. No one depends on me; I’m not responsible for anyone but myself. “C’mon, this is melting.”

  Kerry helped finish off the ice cream, then helped Dar drag a couple of blankets in to lay on the floor, where it was the coolest, and they settled in to try and sleep. The fat candle, in its dish in a safe place, shed golden flickering light over them, and long after Dar had dropped off to an uneasy sleep, Kerry sat quietly awake thinking. Watching a profile no longer strange to her outlined in firelight.

  Chapter

  Twelve

  IT WAS A cool, leafy forest in which she found herself. Conscious of the tickle of grass against her bare thighs, she gazed out over a beautiful lake, its surface marred with gentle ripples. It was mid-afternoon, judging by the sun slanting toward the west as it peeked through the leaves, throwing a pattern of light and shadow over her extended legs.

  She felt lazy and relaxed and sublimely conscious of the warm body against which she was leaning, whose arm was wrapped securely around her. She let her head rest back and picked up a pebble, tossing it into the lake and hearing a gentle, low chuckle that rumbled right through her body.

  She sucked in a breath of air filled with the tangy scent of moss, and the lake, and the earth around them, and closed her eyes in perfect contentment. Aware of being happy, and relaxed, and surrounded by love.

  Kerry jerked awake, her breath catching in her throat as she was thrown out of her dream and into the present, her head pounding as the dim light filtered into the room and revealed Dar’s still sleeping form an arm’s length from her. With a soft gasp, she let herself back down onto the pillow, curling her arm around it and squeezing it as if that could take her back into that dreamscape even if only for a moment.

  So real. She could almost smell the moss again. She rolled over onto her back and rubbed her eyes, trying to get that wonderful feeling of peace out of her mind. It was raining outside, but the howling wind had stopped, or at least subsided, though the power was still off. Kerry felt clammy and shaken, and she took a few breaths to settle herself down. Then she rolled her head to one side, and froze, as she met pale blue eyes looking back at her. “Yah!”

  The blue eyes widened and Dar struggled to hide a grin. “S’matter? I grow a horn overnight or something?”

  Kerry exhaled. “No, no. Um…” She held up a hand. “I was…I had this dream, and I kind of jumped out of it, and I wasn’t… Bah, my brain’s not working yet.” She put her arm over her eyes and closed them.

  Dar yawned, then stretched her body out, wincing at the stiffness from sleeping on the floor. “People who say sleeping on the floor is good for you are nuts,” she commented, getting to her feet and rubbing her eyes. She wandered through the dark living room and into the kitchen, switching on the battery-powered radio to get the latest information.

  The storm is dissipating, its remnants moving out over the Gulf of Mexico. Meanwhile, South Florida wakes Tropical Storm 137

  up to a half million people without power, and downed trees everywhere.

  “Yippee,” Dar commented dryly. She grabbed the manual crank from under the sink and unlocked the patio door, poking her head out into the fitful weather with a sniff. The rain was tapering off, and the seas, though choppy, lacked the whitecaps that had stirred them the day before. Dar set the crank into its catch, and rolled up the shutters, allowing light into the apartment.

  Then she went back inside, and opened the latched, hardwood-lined glass doors, letting in the fresh sea breeze. “Ah. That’s better.” She walked out onto the porch and put her hands on the balcony, taking in a deep breath of the clean air, tasting salt on the back of her tongue. She was surprised at how good she felt, given the uncomfortable night, and she stretched again, feeling the pleasant pull of the muscles across her back as she extended her arms and flexed her fists.

  A hand touched her elbow and Kerry ducked under her arm, peering curiously out at the sea, her disheveled blonde hair whipping back in the breeze. “Mmm. That feels good.”

  Dar settled her elbows on the railing and leaned on them. “Sure does.”

  She glanced around. “Power’s still down in a lot of places.”

  Kerry sighed. “I�
�d better call my place, see what’s happening.” She ducked inside and picked up one of two analog phones Dar had plugged in the night before, dialing Colleen’s number from memory. She’d spoken briefly to her friend last night, reassuring herself that the complex was safe. Colleen had scoffed at the storm, having been through Andrew, and was in the middle of planning a hurricane party when Kerry called. The information about her whereabouts were received with a knowing silence that sent prickles up and down her back, but she hadn’t really had time to think about that much. The phone picked up on the third ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Col. How is everything?”

  “Ah, the mysteriously missing Ms. Stuart,” Colleen answered smugly.

  “How are things on your side of the tracks there, eh?”

  Kerry rolled her eyes. “Colleen, for heaven’s sake.”

  The redhead laughed. “Everything’s fine and dandy here, my friend.

  Trees are down, and a few power lines. We don’t have power, and it’s uncomfortable as hell, but we’re all staying outside, and we’ve got a little grill set up. It’s not so bad. We can go into our cars if we’re in danger of overheating.” She paused. “How are you doing?”

  “Oh, well, about the same,” Kerry told her. “Power’s out here. We’ve got the doors and windows open. It was pretty bad last night, but doesn’t look like there’s much damage, except for a few branches down, and…” She shaded her eyes to peer outside. “I think a boat’s stuck on the eastern tip of the island.”

  “Mmm-hmm, must have been…hot and sticky and uncomfortable last night, huh?” Colleen’s voice held a hint of playfulness.

  Kerry chose to ignore the innuendo, and answered the question at face value. “It was, but we opened a window on the protected side of the apartment. And we had ice cream, so,” she laughed softly, “it worked out 138 Melissa Good okay. I just woke up.” She glanced up as the sun made a pale appearance, dusting Dar’s shoulders with wan light. “Sun’s coming out.”