by Melissa Good
"Good point," the aide agreed. "Presidential Suite huh? I've seen pictures of that. It's swank."
Kerry collected the keys being handed to her. "After a while, they all just look like hotel rooms." She handed the aide the other keys. "No matter how nice, it's not home."
They walked back across the lobby floor to where the rest of the group was waiting. The other three aides stopped talking as they walked up and glanced at each other.
The female aide cleared her throat. "Basil, you want to share? We went to college together."
"Sure," the other younger aide said. "No problem."
The aide with Kerry passed out the keys. "That means I'll share with you, Robert," he said. "Ms. Stuart asked them to bring us up necessities."
"That was very thoughtful of you, Kerry," Senator Stuart said. "I am very glad I thought to bring my little overnight bag, myself."
Kerry hefted her own bag. "Okay, have a good night, folks. Time to get some rest." She herded them toward the big elevators, already imagining she could feel the softness of a bed under her back and the taste of hot tea on her tongue.
"Robert, please make sure my schedule is set for the morning," Senator Stuart said, as they entered the elevator and it started to rise. "I think we convene at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow"
"Yes, ma'am, that's correct," Robert said. "I'm sure the roads will be clear by breakfast tomorrow."
"I hope so."
The elevator doors opened on the fourth floor and the four aides got out. "Have a good night, Senator." Robert gave her and Kerry a little wave. "Ms. Stuart."
"You too." Kerry waved back, as the doors closed and they headed up to the top floor.
"Well," her mother said, as they exited and headed to the door of the suite. "This was certainly an unexpected end to a very unexpected day."
Kerry opened the door and entered, holding it for her mother. She detected the competing scents of fresh wax, steaming tea, and chocolate. Even she blinked at the grand entranceway and expansive stretch of the room they were staying in. "Wow."
"My goodness." Her mother stopped and peered around. "Is that a grand piano?"
"Is that a telescope? Kerry muttered in response. "Well, Mother, I think we've got enough space here."
"To play tennis, it seems," Cynthia remarked with surprising humor.
"I had them send up some tea." Kerry felt a little nervous and more than a little unsettled now that they were here and alone, and she realized it. "Have some if you like. My throat's a little sore." She moved past the ornate living room and found her way into one of the bedrooms.
"There's a large basket here. Is that from the hotel too?" her mother called in. "How nice of them."
"Is it fruit or chocolate?" Kerry responded.
"I believe it's--yes, some type of candy."
"Not the hotel. Dar." Kerry looked around the room. "Hm." She set her bag on the credenza and opened it. "Feel free to have some of that too." She pulled her shirt from her jeans and unbuttoned it, kicking off her sneakers at the same time.
The windows had an expansive view, and she turned to look out them as she removed her shirt. It was a little hard to believe she was here.
Okay. It was impossible to believe she was here. Kerry went back over to her bag and removed her bra , trading it for a long, soft T-shirt that she pulled over her head. She unbuttoned her jeans and slipped them off folding them in thirds and laying them down with her shirt on the dresser.
Then she squared her shoulders and faced the door, heading back out to where she could still smell the tea and hear her waiting parent. "Be good, Kerry," she muttered under her breath. "Be good."
THE BASKET WAS a typical Dar basket. Kerry studied it, loosening the ribbons as she pondered whether her partner had some cosmic internet shopping service with her favorite things predefined and simply pressed the correct button at the correct time. Or whether she took the time to select each item.
Knowing Dar, if she'd had the time, it was the latter. She was single minded about certain things, and Kerry knew she was one of them.
The basket held several types of chocolates, a pair of soft, fluffy socks, an aromatherapy eye shade that smelled of peaches, and a beanie baby that was the image of her pet Chino.
The crinkly plastic came off. She set it aside, glad her mother had decided to retreat into the second bedroom. "Hmm." She selected a wrapped Lindt chocolate ball and took it with her over to where the teapot was sitting along with the socks.
There were comfortable wing chairs to either side of the small table, and she sat down in one, putting the socks on her feet, then extending them across the marble floor and crossing her ankles. Dropping two sugar cubes in a cup, she poured out some of the steaming beverage, releasing a strong scent of jasmine in the air.
She unwrapped the chocolate and bit into it, enjoying the rich, creamy center. She washed it down with a sip of the hot, mildly astringent tasting tea, the clean freshness contrasting with the indulgence of the chocolate.
"That smells lovely." Her mother appeared wearing a plush robe and slippers. "Do you still favor tea? I remember you did always like it better than coffee." She walked over to the table and prepared a cup for herself.
"I do," Kerry said. "I'll drink a cup of coffee in the morning, but tea after that unless I'm doing an all nighter or that sort of thing." She took another bite of her chocolate. "This is pretty good."
Her mother sat down in the other chair on the other side of the table with her cup. She took a sip. "It's quite good. I prefer tea myself. I find it more delicate," she said. "I think it's calming."
Kerry thought so too. "Might be the illusion of Zen," she said. "But it works for me."
They were silent for a minute. Kerry got up and went over to the basket, picking up a couple more of the Lindt balls and bringing them back with her. She sat back down and stifled a yawn, unwrapping a chocolate.
"That was very kind of Dar," Cynthia ventured. "Very thoughtful. Does she do that often? I seem to remember Angela saying she'd gotten you a cake at the restaurant the other night or something like that."
Kerry rolled a Lindt ball over in her direction. "On special occasions, sure," she said. "When we're apart, we try to do little things for each other." She sipped her tea. "Not always baskets, but like reserving each other the nicest hotel room, or renting each other a fun car."
Her mother paused, and looked around the hotel room completely. Then she picked up the Lindt ball.
"I would say she did well in this round," she commented. "It's nice to hear that you two get along so well. You're really quite unlike each other."
"Probably why we get along as well as we do," Kerry said, briefly. "We like a lot of the same things though, and naturally we've got our work in common."
"Of course," her mother said. "And you are both so clever," she said. "You know, I was listening to Dar speak earlier. What a charming voice she has."
Charming. There were lots of things about Dar Kerry found charming, but she half suspected her mother was trying to be a little over the top nice, to avoid any uncomfortable discussion between them. That was okay by her. It was very late, and she was both tired and emotionally overloaded from the day. "I could listen to her talk all day," she responded with a smile. "But really, you should hear her sing."
"Really?"
Kerry nodded, taking a sip of her tea. "We have a lot of fun together," she said. "I'm sorry she's going to be flying so long tomorrow. A lot can happen in ten hours."
"Goodness," her mother murmured. "Isn't that the truth. I don't really know what to expect, actually. I think everyone was just overwhelmed today, and tomorrow all the reactions will start," she said. "It's been very curious to be involved in the government, you know. After being a spectator for so long I mean."
"I bet it has," Kerry said. "From the interviews we were seeing on the news, it seems like most of the people in Congress are pretty much in agreement with each other though."
"Well." Cynthia curiously
inspected the unwrapped chocolate, and then bit into it. "My, that is wonderful," she said. "In any case, there are the things one is expected to say to the press and in public, and then there are the things everyone says in private in the council chambers, and that is what made me understand just how much of a charade we do play here in Washington."
Kerry blinked a little in surprise. Not from the revelation that Congress often said different things to the press than to each other, but that her mother seemed so disapproving about it. "I just hope everyone sits down and thinks about what to do instead of just reacting."
"I hope so too," her mother agreed. "What will your plans be for tomorrow?"
The long day was now creeping over her. Kerry blinked a few times. "I have to go to our office in Virginia in the morning to see what the problem is with the government officials showing up wanting to tap our circuits," she said. "Then we'll probably go to the Pentagon. I want to visit my team there."
Cynthia pondered this for a minute. "Well, if there is anything I can help with on the government side," she offered diffidently, "please let me know."
Kerry nodded. "Thanks. Hopefully, it's just a misunderstanding," she replied. "I've gotten requests like that before, where people ask for things because they've either been told to, or someone mentioned a buzz word and there really isn't a full understanding of what they're asking."
Her mother finished her tea and set the cup down. "Well, it has been a long day, so I will leave you to get some rest. Perhaps you can join us for breakfast before you leave?"
"Sure." Kerry was too tired to even mind. "Good night--Oh." She felt a little sheepish. "Sorry about the table."
Her mother, already at the door to her bedroom, turned and peered at her, a faintly bemused expression on her face. "I have to admit," she said. "After all your talk about being this terribly different person, finding you under my dining room table amongst broken crockery was really quite amusing."
There wasn't really any defense to that. Kerry rested her head against her hand and gazed back at her mother through her somewhat disordered bangs. "Not everything's changed," she admitted, with a wry smile.
"No." Cynthia smiled back. "Not everything. Good night." She turned and went into the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind her.
"Night." Kerry remained slouched in her chair, sipping her cooling tea. She finished her chocolate, then stood up and set the cup down, heading for the refuge of her room as the day's tension and discomfort started to rub against her like sandpaper.
She sat down on her bed, resting her hands on the mattress as she looked out the window.
She could see the Jefferson Memorial. It was shrouded in shadows, its normal brilliant lighting dimmed for safety she supposed, but she felt somehow that the somber sight reflected her attitude about the events of the day.
She felt like the world was overcast. With a sigh, she got up again and turned out the desk light, and went to the already turned down linens and started to get under them.
Her cell phone rang. Kerry cursed under her breath at it, then leaned over and grabbed the phone, turning and using her momentum to land back on the bed as she opened it. "Kerry Stuart."
"Hey sexy. You naked under the sheets yet?"
The mental whiplash made her sneeze. "Buh!" She rolled over onto her back, her gloomy thoughts lifting like magic. "I forgot to text you!"
"Is that a yes or a no?" Dar's voice sounded amused. "Or were you partying with your mother?"
Kerry started laughing. "Actually we had tea and chocolate together. Thank you, my love. The socks are warming my toes as we speak."
"I was just standing on my head for twenty minutes. My nose is throbbing," Dar informed her. "It's goddamn boring in a country mansion in England at five in the morning you know that?" she complained. "I'm afraid to go out and run in case they have foxhounds or something out there."
"Well." Kerry smiled. "You're a fox. It's a valid concern." She heard a conspicuous silence on the other end and her smiled grew wider. "Oooo--I gotcha."
Dar chuckled softly. "You did," she admitted. "So how's it going?" Her voice altered. "I'm stopping you from sleeping so I'll keep it short."
"Don't," Kerry said. "I could easily talk to you all night long," she added. "Even my mother thinks you have a charming voice."
"Huh?"
Kerry cleared her throat a bit. "It's not bad," she said. "This room you rented for me could hold our entire department with room for our dog. Mom's being okay. I think after that blowup she's just staying away from a lot of stuff. Which is fine by me."
"Yeah."
"I wasn't in the mood for a fight tonight anyway," Kerry said. "And after I made that whole speech about being grown up and everything we were playing hide and seek in the house and I knocked a freaking table over. Ended up breaking a bowl the size of our sink."
She could hear Dar muffling a snicker. "No, go ahead and laugh." Kerry sighed. "Talk about blowing my image. I could have smacked Mike. He tripped me right into the damn thing and I hit the legs sideways."
"Table didn't have a chance." Dar commiserated. "You've hit me in the knees. I know what that feels like."
"My sister was laughing so hard she was crying," Kerry admitted. "And the look on my mother's face when she came around the corner to see what the hell was going on was pretty much priceless." She paused. "It reminded me of the fact that growing up in that house wasn't always a horror show."
Dar chuckled aloud.
"Anyway." Kerry sighed. "So it's not going too bad. How about you? Are you ready to fly?"
"Yeah. Actually, the timing is going to give me a problem trying to get hold of Gerry," Dar said. "If I don't get him before I take off, I might need you to call him," she said. "I'll message you if that's the case. It'll be really early your time when I leave."
"No problem," Kerry said. "I think I'm going over there in the afternoon so I can touch base with him. Shouldn't be an issue."
"Good," Dar said. "We can stop taking about business now. How did my voice come up in conversation?"
Kerry closed her eyes and smiled, narrowing her world down to the sound in her ear. She reached over and turned the bedside light off, leaving her in darkness that only made their conversation all the more private. "She was being nice. She was listening to you when you were on the conference call. Angie said something too, about your accent."
"My what?"
"Your cute little Southern twang," Kerry clarified. "I'm so used to hearing you I don't really hear it anymore, but they both noticed."
"I don't have an accent. My father has an accent," Dar said. "You have an accent."
"No I don't."
"Sure you do."
"I do not!"
"You do!" Dar insisted. "Everyone has an accent. Except me."
Kerry started laughing, "You're so funny. Thank you for calling me. I was starting to really get bummed out."
"Why?" Dar asked. "You said things were going okay."
"I know. I don't know," Kerry replied. "I just was. All the stuff going on and thinking about our people who are still missing, and not knowing what's going to happen with the government tomorrow-- it was just bumming me out." She thought about that. "Do I sound like a weenie?"
"No." Dar's voice deepened a little, warming audibly. "I was getting bummed here too. I feel like I'm so far away from everything," she admitted. "I'm glad we're leaving today, but knowing I'll be out of touch for that long is driving me insane."
"Me too," Kerry agreed, in a wry tone.
They were both quiet for a moment. "We're a couple of goddamned idiots," Dar said. "We'd give Mr. Rogers diabetes." She sighed with exaggerated exasperation. "Wait. Let me go out and see if I can find a box of bonbons and a pair of pink fuzzy slippers."
Kerry started laughing. "I have the bonbons and fuzzy slippers here, honey. Come and get them."
"If I could," Dar said. "If I could close my eyes and will it, and be there, I would in a heartbeat." She sighed. "But unfo
rtunately I'm not a refugee from a bad science fiction movie of the week. I did tell Alastair I'd need to head out to Washington as soon as we got in the States though. I'm hoping the planes will be flying by then."
"Me too." Kerry could feel the beginnings of a disassociation that meant she was falling asleep. "Would you do me a tiny favor?"
"You have to ask?"
"Sing to me. Just for a minute."
Dar hesitated. "Oh. Uh--okay. Sure."
"I just remembered when I was talking to Mom what that sounded like and I want to hear it. I love your singing voice." Kerry smiled, as she heard Dar clear her throat softly, and she took a deep breath and released it as her partner complied, easing her into sleep so gently she didn't even remember the tune.
Chapter Thirteen
DAR TURNED THE collar of her leather jacket up to protect her neck against the damp, chilly wind as she waited for Alastair to finish his goodbyes. She'd made the mistake of dropping off to sleep again after talking to Kerry and now she felt as foggy as the sky appeared, waking up again only ten minutes before they were supposed to leave.
The only thing that had saved her ass was that she'd grabbed a shower and packed while waiting for Kerry to get to her hotel. So she just had to throw her clothes on, brush her teeth and hair and try to pretend her brain wasn't somewhere in the southern Caribbean where her dreams had taken her before she woke.
On the boat, in the sun, Kerry's warm body curled up next to her and the late afternoon sky getting ready to set and provide them with an evening entertainment.
Goddamn she wished it hadn't been a dream.
Her cell phone rang. She unclipped it from her belt, glancing at the caller ID and hoping it was Gerry Easton. It wasn't, but she was glad to see the name anyway. "Morning, Mark."
"Hey Boss." Mark sounded absolutely exhausted. "We just crossed into North Carolina. What a bastard of a drive."