Tropical Storm - DK1

by Melissa Good

  Kerry stared at him evenly. “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “Wouldn’t you?” Kyle inquired lazily, wiping a finger through the sweat on her cheek. “I don’t know, you join a gym, start taking karate lessons. Now this, makes me wonder.” His eyes raked her. “Not very ladylike.”

  “Ladies can be physically fit,” Kerry commented softly. “And I don’t think it’s any of your concern, Kyle.”

  He studied her. “You’d be surprised at what’s my concern, girl,” he replied easily. “Especially when it has to do with my future niece. Got me?”

  Kerry’s green eyes narrowed. “I think you’re overstepping your bounds, Kyle.”

  “And I think there’s something going on with you that I don’t like, and that your daddy won’t like. It’s going to be wonderful when I find out what that is, Cupcake.” He chucked her under the chin. “Go take a shower. You stink.” He then turned and strolled off, trotting down the stairs and heading out towards the garage.

  “Not nearly as badly as you do, asshole,” Kerry enunciated sharply, under her breath. She turned and made her way up the stairs and into the back entrance, where she was spotted by Mary. “Oh. Morning, Mary.”

  402 Melissa Good

  “Ms. Kerry, g’morning.” The middle-aged black woman nodded at her.

  “Were you out running? My goodness, it’s too cold for that, you’re gonna catch your death if you’re not careful.”

  Kerry ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s okay, I got warmed up pretty fast.” She smiled at the servant, who had been with their household since Kerry was a child. “Any chance of some muffins?”

  Mary looked both ways, then leaned closer. “Well, you know, your mamma told us not to be giving you stuff like that, on account of her thinking it’s bad for you. But I gotta say, Ms. Kerry, you’re looking mighty healthy to me.”

  Kerry now looked both ways, then pulled off her sweatshirt and T-shirt, leaving her in her sports bra. She held out her hands. “Do I look like a muffin’s gonna hurt me?”

  Mary looked her up and down. “Mmm, mmm. No, ma’am, you don’t. I’ll be getting you that muffin. But, please, put those clothes back on before one of the gentlemen spots you.”

  “Thank you.” Kerry smiled and pulled her shirt back on, waiting patiently while Mary disappeared, then reappeared with a small basket.

  “Here you go, two hot blueberry muffins, and something to put on ’em.

  You go and enjoy yourself.” She handed Kerry the basket and shooed her away.

  The blonde woman grinned in triumph and ducked into the hallway, heading for the stairs and trotting up them as Mary watched her.

  Elizabeth walked over and nudged her cohort. “What were you looking at?”

  “Mmm, mmm, that girl sure grew up nice.” Mary clucked her tongue.

  “She is the spawn of the devil pulling off her clothes like that in front of me—

  that was one pretty little navel.”

  “You old whore.” Liz chuckled deep in her throat.

  “Woman, please, I’d like to know who finally talked some sense into her.

  Damn good job it was, too.” Mary shook her head. “Best thing she ever did was get out of this house.”

  “Hmm. Best for her if she never came back into it,” Liz stated softly as she reached for the tablecloths to fold.

  “DID YOU KNOW we could get this stuff twenty-four of twenty-four a day?” Gerald Easton pointed at the screen. “They keep telling me they got a cable channel for everything; now I believe it.” They were watching the Military Channel, a station which showed earnest programs featuring the armed services. “Damnedest thing. Look at that, Dar, they’re selling fatigues like it was the Home Shopping Network.”

  Dar stretched her legs out and crossed them, letting her head rest against the couches soft back. “Makes money. Lots of civs collect and use that stuff.

  Jesus, eighty-eight bucks for a pair of reg boots?”

  “Hmph.” Easton sucked on his pipe and shook his head. “Modern crap.

  What in the hell is someone going to do with a case of MREs? I wouldn’t feed those things to Alabaster. She’d bite me right in the, ah…”

  Tropical Storm 403

  “Leg,” Dar supplied with a dry grin. “Well, we’re between games, Gerry.

  It beats watching ‘Pilgrims: Reevaluating the Conquest of America’ again.”

  “Communists.” The general snorted. “Fashionable nowadays to see history in the worst light possible.”

  Dar muffled a grin and looked up as Jack appeared in the doorway, hefting a football.

  “You up for some catch, Dar?” The tall blond man grinned. “Weather cleared, figure we could work up an appetite outside.”

  “You bet.” Dar pushed herself to her feet and followed him willingly outside, laughing as Alabaster plowed past them, anxious to escape the tiny teeth of her nine voracious puppies for a little while. She moved across the still damp lawn as the sun filtered down, and took a breath of the cold the wind swept down, pushing aside the little unease in her guts she’d had since mid-morning. Baby, give it a rest, Dar. Just because Kerry didn’t call you twice probably means everything’s fine. She’s out with her family, and maybe even having a good time. “G’wan.”

  Jack tossed her the football, which she caught one-handed, then examined. “Nice one,” she complimented its owner, noting the scuffing of long use before she wrapped her fingers around the laces and tossed it back.

  “So, how’s things with the company?” Jack asked, throwing the ball back to her. “Still running the world behind the scenes?”

  Dar caught it and whipped it back, putting a little more arm into the throw. “More or less. You win some, you lose some. It’s been a pretty good year for us this year.”

  “Yow.” Jack shook his hand as he caught the football. “Jesus, Dar, you can still put a sting on that thing, you know?”

  “Sorry.” Dar grinned.

  “Yeah, right.” Jack winged it back. “You ever regret doing that stuff?” he asked offhandedly. “I mean, you know, someone with your skills could make good bucks in the service.”

  Dar stopped in mid-throw, and put her hands on her hips, or rather, one hand and one football. “Are you trying to recruit me?”

  He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked up through boyish eyebrows. “Who, me?” He laughed sheepishly. “I don’t know, Dar, you always fit into the military world. I was just wondering if you didn’t sometimes think about coming back in.”

  Dar juggled the football then threw it back. “Too late for that,” she told him. “I’m too used to giving orders, I’d never last a minute.” It was, she knew, an honest admission. “I’d be telling some five-star to get his starched ass out of the way so I could get to a mainframe and end up scrubbing heads with a brillo pad.”

  Jack caught the ball and threw it back. “Just a thought,” he commented.

  “Can’t blame me for trying, can you?”

  They played for a while longer, then switched to a new game, where one of them would take the ball and try to get past the other. “Tag or tackle?” Jack asked, playfully.

  “Me and what bulldozer are going to tackle you?” Dar snorted.

  “Chicken.” He grinned.

  404 Melissa Good Dar felt her competitive spirit surge. “All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She grabbed the ball and took off running as he yelped and jumped after her.

  “Shit, Dar! Not fair!” He ran faster, skidding past her as she dodged and jumped over a small hedge in the yard. He jumped the hedge after her, then there was only an open field in front of them. “Ah. I gotcha now.”

  “Think so, huh?” Dar leaned forward and sped up, lengthening her strides until she was running full out, hearing his determined steps behind her. “Man, you pilots spend too much time sitting on your butts,” she yelled back as she powered between two tall trees at the end of the rolling field and slowed, letting him roar past her and skid to a hal
t in the wet grass. “Heh, my score.”

  “You…you…” Jack shook a finger at her. “Damn, Dar, for someone who spends all day behind a desk, you sure got a pair of legs on you.”

  She flipped him the ball. “Your turn.”

  He considered, then bolted away, tucking the ball under his arm with a professional air. Dar gave him a few steps grace, then she started after him, running at a slight angle to his path. She closed on him and waited for him to dodge away. She then changed her angle again and sped up, correctly predicting his next turn and hurling her body against his, wrapping her arms around him and letting her momentum and weight swing them both around.

  They landed in the grass with a thump.

  “Shit.” Jack sighed.

  Dar released him and sat up, dusting the knees of her jeans off as she broke into a laugh.

  Jack scowled, then he laughed too. “I should have remembered not to challenge you,” he admitted. “You always had a way of coming out on top.”

  She was about to answer when the cell phone clipped to her belt chirped.

  She retrieved it and opened it up. “Yes?”

  “Happy Thanksgiving,” Kerry’s voice sounded a touch strained, but otherwise warm.

  “Same to you. How are things?” Dar stretched her legs out before her and plucked a grass stem, as Jack reclined on the grass, putting his hands behind his head and gazing up at the clouds.

  “Okay.” Kerry sighed. “Mom’s been working on me all morning, trying to convince me of how much more appropriate it would be for me to come home now, so she has time to prepare for the wedding.”

  “Ah.” Dar exhaled. “So you haven’t broken the news to them yet, huh?”

  She kept her tone sympathetic. Alabaster trotted over and nuzzled her, and she petted the Labrador absently. “Sounds like it’s going to cause a big bang.”

  “Yeah,” Kerry muttered into the phone. “What are you doing?”

  Dar wiggled her sneakers. “Sitting in the grass, actually. I was just playing some catch with Jack,” she admitted. “Getting some exercise in before we go inside and have Mamma Easton stuff us until we explode.”

  “Boom!” Jack mouthed, spreading his hands out in pantomime. Alabaster ambled over and nosed him.

  “Wish I was there,” Kerry admitted. “Sounds like a lot more fun than it is here. I’m going to run into town for a while with Angela, just to get away from Tropical Storm 405

  all the nonsense. I took a look at the mail, by the way, and answered that one you sent and a few others.”

  “Good girl.” Dar smiled. “Getting away sounds like a good idea. Maybe after today, they’ll settle down a little.”

  “Maybe,” Kerry replied, reluctantly. “Well, anyway, let me get going.

  Just wanted to say hi, and I hope you enjoy your dinner.”

  “You, too,” Dar answered.

  “Not likely,” came the uncharacteristically pessimistic retort. “But I’ll give it the old college try. Talk to you later, Dar.”

  Dar closed the phone thoughtfully and clipped it back onto her belt.

  Damn, she sounds depressed. “Families can be such hell,” she commented audibly.

  “Hmm?” Jack turned his head. “Oh, yeah, I guess. Was that your office?”

  “No, my assistant. She’s home and having a tough time with her folks.”

  Slowly, Jack rolled over, and propped his head up on one hand. “Dar, I…” He fell silent, then plucked a stem of grass, not looking at her. “I need some advice.”

  Dar drew up one knee and circled it with an arm. “Sure.”

  He hesitated. “Have you…ever had to tell someone…I mean, someone you really cared about, something you knew was going to hurt them and make them feel…disappointed in you?”

  Uh oh. Dar considered carefully before she answered. “Yes, I have. Why?”

  He looked up, his blue eyes meeting Dar’s. “Was it hard?”

  She nodded. “Very.”

  He looked back at the ground. “Do you think, sometimes, it’s better not to tell?” “Well.” Dar sighed. “It depends on what it is, and who the other person is. An elderly grandmother, for instance, you don’t want to go telling that her long-dead husband was actually a swindler. It serves no purpose.” He nodded. “But important things, Jack, they have a way of coming out anyway.” The hypocrisy of what she was saying hit her, and she winced in reflex.

  “Funny you should put it that way,” he replied softly.

  Her eyes fastened on his bent head, an eyebrow edging up. “You wanna tell me what’s going on? You know I can keep my mouth shut.”

  He swallowed and nervously fingered the grass. “Dar, you’ve known me since I was in short pants.” He exhaled. “We grew up together. Did I ever seem…not normal to you?”

  Dar let out a snort of laughter. “Jack, you’re the most normal person I know. You’re a stereotype for a Navy brat, and you know it.”

  Jack nodded. “That’s what I thought. That’s what I always thought, until last May.” He fell silent for a long moment. “I got a new back seat.”

  It took Dar a minute to realize he was talking about his flying partner, and not a car part. “Yeah?” she prodded cautiously.

  “Robbie, yeah. Robin Hood, we call him.” Jack seemed intently interested in examining the grass stalks. “We, um…we hit it off real good, you know?

  Sometimes you do, and sometimes you don’t. I’ve had some back seats I couldn’t hardly stand to talk to, and some that are my buddies even now.”

  406 Melissa Good

  “Uh huh,” Dar murmured. “Nice guy, huh?”

  “Yeah.” Jack sighed. “We started hanging around together, and I, um, I…

  It’s never happened to me before, but…I kept wanting to…to touch him.”

  Dar’s eyes closed briefly, and she shifted, biting her lip. “Yeah, and?” She kept her voice interested, but unalarmed.

  “And, at first, I thought I was just…I thought I was sick, okay? I hadn’t had a girlfriend in a while, and… Well, you know.” He looked miserable.

  “And I-I…I just told myself that I should go into a corner, and…and…”

  “I know,” Dar replied softly. “So what happened?”

  He ripped a few blades of grass up. “I was coming back from the shower, and…and he came into my quarters, and he, um, he…” He fell silent again.

  “He touched you?” Dar guessed, and got a tiny nod. “And you liked that.” Another tiny nod. “All right.”

  Finally, Jack looked up, fearfully peeking into her blue eyes. “You don’t think that’s sick?”

  Dar reached out and put a hand over his. “That would be incredibly hypocritical of me.”

  Dead silence. Jack blinked at her. “Bu…” His brows knit. “You?”

  Blue eyes met his evenly. “Do you think that’s sick?”

  “Dar, that’s insane. You could have any guy you wanted. I don’t…I mean…you’re gorgeous. I…” He spluttered, winding down.

  Dar waited. Finally she sighed. “No, I don’t think it’s sick, and you shouldn’t either.”

  He thought about that. “We were both kind of…we were pretty weirded out.” He sighed. “But after a while, it just seemed okay.” He paused. “Until I thought about telling my father.”

  Dar exhaled. “Yeah.”

  “Dar, it would kill him.” Jack looked up at her. “I’m his only son. He wants grandkids. Jesus, he’s given me everything, done everything in his power for me. I…” His blond head shook back and forth. “I can’t do that to him. I love him too much.”

  What a problem. Dar felt for both her friend and for Gerald Easton. Who, certainly, would be devastated at the news. She didn’t really blame Gerald; he was a prisoner to his generation, his upbringing, and his lifelong devotion to the service. “Tell you what, just put it aside for a few days. Let me think about it. Maybe I can come up with an idea,” she told him sympathetically.

  He looked up at her pathetically.
“If you can find a way out of this for me with honor, I’ll owe you for the rest of my life, Dar.”

  She ruffled his hair gently. “That’s what friends are for, Jack, and I don’t have many, so I take care of the ones I do have.” She gazed at him. “You know, I told your father if I was going to marry anyone, it’d be you.” He blushed a deep, fierce red. “You know…” she kidded him gently. “Worst comes to worst I’ll bear you a grandkid for your dad.” He turned a color so dark, his eyebrows stood out in stark whiteness. She ruffled his hair and chuckled again.

  Tropical Storm 407

  KERRY CLOSED THE phone and went to find Angela. “You ready?” she asked her sister, finding her in the living room.

  “Mmm-hmm, let me just get my bag. Hang on.” Angela nodded, leaving the room and returning a moment later. “Let’s go. They’re having a choir recital at the downtown church, I thought maybe you’d like to hear it.”

  Anything. “Sure,” Kerry agreed readily, following her out the door. They got in Angela’s car and drove onto the parkway, passing endless rows of tall, thin, bare trees. “This place is depressing, Angie,” Kerry said softly.

  Her sister eyed her. “You’re just now noticing that?”

  “Guess I never had a contrast before. You have to come visit me sometimes in Miami,” Kerry responded. “It’s so different. I could take you out to Bayside, or the Grove, maybe down into the Keys. I think you’d like it.”

  Angela sighed. “Maybe if Brian and I end up running away from home, we’ll end up down by you,” she told her sister wryly. “Is there a market for earnest lawyers down there?”

  Kerry gazed at her a long time. “Have you talked about that, or are you just razzing me?” she asked. “Of course there’s a market for lawyers, are you kidding? He could make a living alone just representing one of our politicians on voter-fraud charges.”

  Her sister exhaled. “We talked about it,” she admitted. “A lot had to do with how you…I mean, you know.”

  “Reacted to the news?” Kerry smiled.

  “Mmm, more or less, yeah. I don’t know, it’s such a huge step, but if I try to separate or divorce Richard legally, you know I’ll never get out of here.”