Storm Surge

by Melissa Good

  DAR SPREAD HER arms out across the bed and let her body relax, wincing a little as the stiffness from sitting as long as she had eased.

  It felt very, very good to just lie down and do nothing. The day had seemed to her to last at least a week, and to have it be quiet, and still with just the sound of a ticking wall clock around the corner was a wonderful thing.

  Her neck ached. She debated if she should get up and go to her briefcase that held a supply of pain killers to address the problem along with her customary bottle of water.

  Deciding that getting up and undressing while doing that instead of falling asleep was easy. Dar rolled over and pushed herself up to her feet, standing and trudging over to the mahogany sidebar where she'd tossed her case.

  She unzipped it and took out the bottle of Advil and the water. She opened her suitcase and took out a long shirt to sleep in. She draped it over the nearby chair and turned, leaning against the wood as she opened the bottle and shook out a few pills.

  The room was a relatively pleasant space to spend the night. It had a small bathroom with an old fashioned tub in it, a decent size bed long enough for her legs not to hang off, and a rich tapestry on the wall that featured dogs and horses in unlikely poses that made Dar smile.

  She swallowed her pills and washed them down with a mouthful of water. Then she picked up the shirt and walked into the bathroom, glancing in the mirror as she unbuttoned her shirt. She pulled the fabric off and crossed her arms, studying her mostly naked upper half with a thoughtful expression.

  A game she played with herself, lately.

  Tattoo or no tattoo? That was the question. With a wry chuckle, Dar studied her tan skin, trying to imagine what it might look like with the sort of colorful decoration her partner now had spread across her upper chest.

  It felt good to waste some brain cells on triviality after the long day. It was like a tiny slice of normality in what had become a morass of uncertain stress.

  Would she do it? Dar rubbed her thumb over the skin on her chest where Kerry's mark was. She found the tattoo sexy, and not even because it incorporated her name. But if she had to choose her own, she knew it wouldn't be anything like what her partner had.

  What would it be?

  Dar studied her skin, and then shook her head and laughed. "I have no damn idea." She finished changing and brushed her teeth. She then went to her briefcase and pulled a diving magazine from it, settling down in the leather armchair near the window where the light from the lamp would allow her to comfortably read.

  She was tired, but not sleepy yet. There was a small television set in the corner of the room, almost hidden, but she had no desire to turn it on and listen to yet another retelling and see again the terror and the destruction she'd lived with the entire day.

  It was good just to sit, sipping her water, and looking at pictures of colorful fish and clear blue water, reading about live adventures and what the price of a good rum drink was in Roatan in the spring. She leaned back and turned the page, losing herself in the text as her mind remembered the rich tang of salt air and the deep, rumbling sound of underwater breathing.

  A soft knock at the door made her jump. She put her water bottle down on the desk, and looked up at the door. "C'mon in."

  The door pushed open, and Alastair's head poked around it. "Hey, Dar I--oh, my gosh. Sorry. Didn't realize you were--ah--"

  "Wearing a T-shirt?" Dar gave her boss a wry look. "Relax. It's more than I wore to that damn Halloween party that time."

  Alastair cautiously entered. "Just thought you'd like a nightcap." He held up a bottle. "Our host had this delivered. It's good stuff."

  "Sure." Dar closed her magazine. "Last time I shared whisky with you I was resigning. We should find happier occasions."

  Alastair walked over and sat down in the chair opposite Dar. He was still in his slacks, but had his shirt untucked and the sleeves unbuttoned and partly rolled up his forearms. "I do remember that," he said, pouring a measure of the golden liquor into one of the two glasses he'd brought and handing it to Dar. "Wasn't fond of how that day started."

  "Me either." Dar waited for him to pour his own glass, and then lifted hers. "Here's to better times."

  "Amen." Alastair reached over and touched his glass to hers, then sat back and sipped it. "I just talked to the missus," he said. "Seems a neighbor of ours was in the North Tower and can't be reached."

  Dar shook her head.

  "Nice feller," Alastair said. "His family's in tatters, of course. My wife said she'd never been so glad to have me out of the country as she was this morning." He studied the whiskey in the glass. "Could easily have been otherwise. I was in New York last week."

  "Could have," Dar agreed quietly. "We all travel a lot. It was just a toss of the dice." She considered. "But then again, so is driving to work every morning in Miami." She sipped the whiskey, the unfamiliar burn making her nose twitch.

  "Well, that's true, or so I've heard," Alastair said. "It's not so bad in Houston, but still." He leaned back. "You think though, so many of us work like dogs so we can retire and take it easy, and those boys in New York work harder than most, and then something like this happens."

  "Sometimes it takes something like this happening to make you take a step back," Dar said, after a sip of the whiskey. "We get so damned focused sometimes." She held the glass up to the light, admiring the honey color. "Some times you have to stop and live. You miss out otherwise."

  Alastair smiled. "Learned that relatively recently?"

  Dar's eyes twinkled wryly. "You could say that."

  Her boss chuckled. "What are you reading there?" He took the extended magazine and turned it around. "Ah--your crazy hobby." He flipped through the pages. "Those islands do look nice, but the missus won't hear of it. She wants to go see Niagara Falls on our next trip."

  "I've seen them," Dar said. "Alastair, take her someplace you can spend more than ten minutes. The falls are nice, but unless you're going to go over them in a barrel they're not much fun."

  "Have you?" Alastair asked. "Gone over them?"

  Dar's brows shot up. "How nuts do you think I am?"

  "Just asking." He chuckled again. "We usually end up at tourist central locations like Vegas. I don't mind exploration, but I like mine to come with a scotch and sour and a limo driver, I'm afraid."

  "Well." Dar extended her legs and crossed her ankles. "We call our cabin down south Microsoft Rustic for a reason. Ker and I talk about going camping and hiking in the Grand Canyon, but I had my fill of that as a kid and I'd rather call room service myself if the truth be known."

  "Camping in Florida?" Alastair asked. "And you lived to grow up?"

  Dar smiled. "We were actually going to take a trip around Europe when we were done here. See the Alps. See if I'm as bad at skiing as I was the last time I tried, and maybe end up down in Italy." She exhaled. "Kerry was really looking forward to it. She never got the chance to travel much."

  Alastair set the magazine down and cradled his glass in both hands. "Chance will come again soon enough," he said. "I know we've got a rough patch to get over now, but the world will keep turning, y'know? We'll get through it. Then you two can take a month and see the place the right way."

  Dar cocked one eyebrow. "I'm going to hold you to that," she warned.

  "Deal," her boss said. "Say, what do you think about Key West?" he asked. "That was the missus other idea. She got some brochures from a little place down there on the water. I'd like to try some fishing myself."

  "That's the place for it." Dar turned her head as she heard her cell phone ring. "Uh oh." She got up and reached across to the sideboard, grabbing the phone and opening it. "Ah." She recognized the number. "Hey hon."

  "Hey." Kerry's voice came through the phone. "Were you sleeping? Sorry if you were."

  "Nah." Dar sat back down. "Alastair and I were having a nightcap and talking about our vacation plans. What's up?"

  "I had to call you. Danny just called from the Pentagon, a
nd he said one of the techs there came to find him, because someone wanted to get a message to you."

  "Yeah?" Dar didn't hear any upset in her partner's tone, so she reasoned it was probably good news. "What was it?"

  "General Easton," Kerry said. "He just said to say he said hello, and that he needs to talk to you when you can get through to him tomorrow."

  Dar felt a sense of profound relief. "That's great news," she said, glancing at Alastair. "Gerry Easton's okay. He wants me to call him tomorrow." She turned back to the phone. "Why aren't you sleeping, by the way?"

  Kerry cleared her throat. "Um-- well, I was playing with my niece and then we got into a game of hide and seek."

  "You and your niece?" Dar asked.

  "Me and my brother and sister," Kerry muttered. "It ended up with a broken table leg. Don't ask."

  "Um-- okay."

  "Listen, when you talk to the General, can you find out if his dog's had puppies again?" Kerry asked. "My sister wants one."

  "She does?" Dar's brows knitted. "She didn't seem like a dog person to me."

  "She isn't. Yet."

  Dar decided ignorance was probably better at this point. "Okay," she said. "Listen, have a good flight, and let me know when you land," she said. "Be safe."

  "I'll text you," Kerry promised. "It's a commuter plane. I'm sure we'll be fine. I just wish there was more room inside it."

  Dar chuckled briefly. "Catching my claustrophobia?"

  "Don't want to be that close to my mother," her partner said, succinctly. "Later hon."

  "Later." Dar closed the phone, and smiled. "Well, that's good news at least."

  Alastair stood up. "Sure is," he said. "Let me let you get some rest." He picked up his glass. "And let's hope that call tomorrow is just him wanting to catch up on you personally."

  Dar blinked at him in surprise.

  Her boss smiled wryly, lifting his glass in her direction then making his way to the door. "Nice fella, glad he's safe," he said, as he eased out. "But he's also a big customer," he reminded her, closing the door behind him.

  True enough. Dar tossed back the rest of her whisky, grimacing as it burned its way down her throat and into her gut. Then she exhaled, puffing her dark hair up out of her eyes, and pulled her magazine back over. "Hope it's personal too." She opened the pages. "I'm not going to have time to call in any favors."

  KERRY ZIPPED HER bag closed and set it on the floor, glancing around out of habit to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. She'd left her share of travel alarm clocks, toothbrushes, and other sundries in hotels across the country and learned her lesson the hard way.

  "Ker?" Angie stuck her head in the room. "You ready? I told Mom I'd take you down to the airport to meet her so we didn't have to swing back by the house."

  "Yup." Kerry shouldered her overnight bag and picked up her laptop case. "Let's go," she said. "Am I safe letting Mike return the truck to the rental joint?"

  Her sister chuckled.

  "That's what I thought." Kerry sighed. "Oh well." She followed her sister out of the room. It was already dark outside, and the kids were tucked in bed in the half empty house already echoing with the impending move and a little sadder for it. "How much can one of those cost anyway?"

  Angie led the way down the steps and over to the front door, picking up a handbag and slinging it over her shoulder and picking up her keys. "Marco, is the car ready?" she asked the man standing near the door.

  "Yes, ma'am," Marco replied. "I filled the tank. Do you want me to drive you though? Roads are pretty dark."

  Angie regarded her house manager with a smile. "Thanks, but I'll be okay," he said. "My brother's coming with us. He can keep me company on the way back."

  Marco looked dubious at this proffered safety, and Kerry shifted her overnight back and reached up to scratch her nose.

  Angie seemed to sense the unspoken doubt. "We'll be fine." She grabbed the strap of Kerry's bag and tugged her out the door. "We're in Saugatuck, for Pete's sake."

  "Mm." Kerry followed without further comment, walking down the steps toward where Mike was waiting by her sister's big sedan as the cool air hit her face. She blinked into it, feeling the dryness against her eyeballs, and thought briefly of the sauna bath she lived in most of the year.

  That had been hard to get used to. Now this was hard to get used to. Kerry shook her head as Angie opened the doors and went around to the driver's side.

  "Here, gimme." Mike took her bag and tossed it in the back seat, sliding in after it.

  Kerry got in the front passenger side and closed the door, glad enough to relax into the leather seat for the relatively short drive to the regional airport. "Think Mom's still pissed off?" she asked. "My shoulder's killing me where I hit that table."

  Angie started the car and gave her sibling a wry look. "Your shoulder's killing you? Remember you bounced into me after you broke the furniture. I feel like I was hit by a truck."

  "I was just glad it wasn't me for a change," Mike commented from the back seat. "It was worth it to see Mom's face when she came around that corner and saw you sitting there with all that broken china around you holding that stupid leg."

  "I felt like I was six," Kerry admitted. "But it was funny."

  "It was freaking hilarious," Mike said. "I mean after that whole lousy day it felt great to just be stupid and laugh and not worry about what building was falling down or if a plane was going to crash on my head."

  They were all momentarily quiet. "Yeah,"Angie finally said. "It sure was a horrible day." She looked at Kerry from the corner of her eye. "I think you and Mom are crazy to be flying tonight. I can't even believe they're letting you."

  "I know," Kerry said. "But this is different. It's a private plane."

  "A crappy, tiny commuter," Mike said. "I've seen the inside of it. I'd rather drive."

  "I should have gotten a van, like that guy of yours did, Kerry, and thrown the kids in there and we could have all taken a road trip," Angie said. "Even Mom."

  Kerry covered her eyes with silent eloquence.

  "Ang, you're a retard," Mike said. "That didn't work when we were ten."

  "Shut up," Angie said. "We're adults now. We could have made it work."

  Mike slid around and extended his legs behind Kerry's seat. "Ah, maybe," he conceded. "I looked up that thing Kerry's guy got, it's not a van. It's an RV. It's pretty cool," he said. "It's got a kitchen and a bathroom and everything."

  "It's a long trip from Miami," Kerry said. "I'm glad they found something comfortable. Last thing I'd want is for them to zonk out on the ride and have an accident. It takes--I think ten or twelve hours just to get out of the state."

  "Have you driven that?" Angie asked.

  Kerry shook her head. "Just to Orlando with Dar," she said. "But Dar has driven up the East Coast. She says unless you take the scenic route through the mountains it's a snore." Her eyes flicked to the dark countryside they were passing through.

  "You staying with Mom?" Her sister asked. "Hotels must be crazy there."

  "No." Kerry shook her head. "Dar made me reservations on the edge of town. I can pick up a car or have the office pick me up in the morning, then maybe stay out there after that." She let her head rest against the back of the seat. "I haven't told her yet. I think she assumes I'm going to the townhouse."

  "She does," Mike supplied. "She was telling some dude over there to get a room ready, like you care what the view is."

  "Sometimes I do," Kerry objected mildly. "But then again--" She pondered. "Usually I'm with Dar so the view inside the room is better anyway." She chuckled under her breath as her siblings both groaned. "I hope her flight goes okay tomorrow."

  "She's flying into Mexico?" Mike asked. "I heard on the news that it's nuts there, the airports are crammed," he said. "Hope they don't give her a hard time coming back in the country."

  Kerry extended her legs out and crossed her ankles. "I hope not," she said. "I can imagine they'll be pretty freaked out, and Dar does get
touchy sometimes about official stuff. She gives the airport people grief when they want her to start up her laptop."

  "Glad I don't travel much," Angie sighed, as she turned onto the access road for the small local airport. "Especially now. I'd be scared to death to get on an airplane."

  Kerry thought about that. She remembered thinking once that you had no idea, really, who you were going to share a plane with, who was sitting next to you, what their motives were, or even what viruses they were going to gift the rest of the passengers with.

  Scary. Now, it was a lot scarier. She imagined being on those planes that had taken off, and finding out that passenger sitting next to you was a killer.

  Ugh.

  Her flight, and Dar's, would at least be private this time. But the next? Kerry sighed, hoping that the domestic flights wouldn't start flying so soon that Dar needed to hop on the first one available to come out to meet her. Much as she wanted to see her partner, and she certainly did, she'd rather her be safe.

  Was there a train from Texas to Washington? Kerry drummed her fingers on the armrest. Hmm. Dar might like a train ride.

  "Wow, look at those lights," Angie interrupted her musing, "at the gate."

  Kerry peered through the windshield to see the entrance to the field approaching, bracketed by a line of emergency vehicles with their flashing lights on. "What's that all about?" she wondered.

  "Maybe mom's limo crahed into the guardhouse," Mike suggested.

  "Michael," Angie scoled him. "That's not funny."

  "Why?" he retorted. "That thing's built like a brick. I'd feel sorry for the guy in the guardhouse not anyone in that tank."

  Angie slowed the car as they approached. Shadowy figures emerged from the vehicles blocking the entrance. "Oh. Wow."

  "Guns," Kerry observed. "I hope it's the Michigan National Guard."

  "Me too," Mike agreed, in a far meeker voice. "I don't like guns." He slid back against the back of the seat, moving over to Kerry's side of the car. "Bet Dar does."

  "Bet she doesn't." Kerry watched as Angie rolled the window down. "I'm the registered gun owner in the family."