by Melissa Good
Dar waited for the stern to dip down so she could get her feet on the bottom step of the ladder, then she reached up to the upper rung and hung on, letting the wave action pick her right up out of the water and into the late afternoon sunlight. She stepped up into the boat and shucked her tank and vest, clipping them to holders before she turned around and reached down to grab the back of Kerry’s air tank as she emerged from the sea.
Kerry was no weakling, but pulling one’s self and forty pounds of equipment out of the water onto a pitching boat after a long day’s diving was a lot to ask, and Dar saw the quick look of appreciation she got as she pulled her partner on board. “Here, give me that.” She reached over and unsnapped the catches that held the vest across Kerry’s chest and loosened the inner waist strap as she removed the tank.
“Ugh. Thanks.” Kerry pulled off her mask and scrubbed her Terrors of the High Seas 23
hand over her face. She could taste salt and the rubber from her regulator on her tongue, and what she really wanted was… Ah. “I love you.” Her hand closed around the plastic bottle of Gatorade as she loosened her weight belt and let it drop to the deck.
Dar chuckled. “You’re welcome.” She dunked Kerry’s camera in the fresh water bucket next to the ladder, and tossed in their masks and snorkels as well. “Can you grab me some oranges?”
“You got it.” Kerry patted her face dry with a towel, then ran it quickly over her body before she went down the stairs into the cabin. She sucked on the Gatorade as she opened the refrigerator and removed a pop-top can of mandarin oranges. She took it, a spoon, and a packet of crackers and peanut butter and returned to the deck.
Dar had unhooked the tanks and put them into the cradles next to the compressor, and hosed down the BCs that were already hanging there. She was rinsing Kerry’s regulator with careful hands when Kerry eased up next to her and bumped her lightly with one hip. With a quick grin, Dar put the regulator down next to hers on the counter and took the can of fruit.
They sat down in the comfortable camp chairs on the back deck and relaxed, putting their feet up in the attached footrests as the boat rocked gently in the waves. “That was nice,” Dar commented, removing the top from her can. “Not much current down there, either.”
“Nmpf.” Kerry shook her head, her mouth full of cracker and peanut butter. “Gorf. Sorry.” She swallowed down the mouthful and chased it with some Gatorade. “Yeah, it felt so great just to be down there.” Her eyes swept the horizon, then she got up and looked around to the front of the boat. “Especially out here, where it’s just us, the sky, and the water.”
Dar nodded. “We’re still in the straits; we could just stay anchored here for tonight.”
Kerry faced into the wind, listening to the rhythm of the waves.
“Or?”
“Or we could head south.”
“Is there a prettier place down south?”
Dar sucked on an orange. “Not that I know of.”
“Here sounds perfect to me, then.” Kerry wandered back over and sat down. “How about we have a snack up front and watch the sun set?”
“Sounds perfect to me,” Dar echoed with a grin. Then her head cocked, and she glanced off into the distance. “Looks like we have company.” Her ears identified the sound of engines. They grew louder and louder, until a speck resolved itself into a massive yacht, half again as large as theirs, cleaving the water at top speed as it headed south.
24 Melissa Good
“Well.” Kerry took in the solid black hull with red and silver piping. “How’s that for posh?” The ship was flying several colorful pennants, and its brass fittings shone brightly in the sun. “Who do you think it is, Dar? Some really rich Northern type?”
“With no taste?” Dar grinned wryly. “Foreigner, maybe.”
The boat roared past, its wake making the Dixieland Yankee rock vigorously back and forth for several moments. The newcomer headed toward the horizon, several figures visible on its stern deck.
“They’d better watch that draft; we’re in shallows.” Dar frowned, got up, and reached for the radio. She keyed it. “Black and red Giarenno headed south through the straits, do you copy?”
She released the mic, and heard only static. Her brow contracted. “Black and red Giarenno headed through the straits southbound, do you copy?”
There was more answering static, then a sharp crackling. “This is Cordon’s Empire. Are you calling this vessel?” The voice was abrupt and impatient.
Dar keyed the mic. “Roger that, Cordon’s Empire. This is Dixieland Yankee. You just passed on my port side. Be advised you have less than ten to fifteen feet to bottom in the area.”
There was a moment of silence before the clipped reply. “We do not need the advice. Please do not contact this vessel again.”
The sound of the transmission terminating was the auditory equivalent of an arrogant slap, and Dar expended a few outraged breaths just glaring at the radio before she turned and delivered a murderous look at the retreating yacht. “You’re welcome and kiss my ass, Cordon’s Empire,” she replied. She hung up the mic and returned to her comfortable chair with a snort of disgust. “Jackass.”
“Mm.” Kerry licked a bit of peanut butter off her thumb. “Bet he didn’t know who he was talking to.”
Dar bit an orange slice in half and snapped it up, doing her best wild animal snarl. “I’d say I hope he bottoms, but the satisfaction wouldn’t be worth the damage to the reef.”
Kerry finished her cracker. “You’re right,” she agreed. “Tell you what—if you get the deck pad, I’ll bring a bottle of something cold and we can let Mother Nature do her thing.”
Dar dismissed the rude boater and willingly turned her mind to more pleasant things. She got up and rinsed out her can, squashed it in her hands, and put it into the recycling container. Then she opened the storage bench and pulled out the large double pad they liked to sit on up front and slung it over her shoulder while Kerry ducked back into the cabin.
There were layers of light clouds on the horizon, and Dar imagined it would be a gorgeous sunset. She mused happily on that as she made her way around to the front of the boat, settling the pad down and going to the very front of the bow.
Terrors of the High Seas 25
Kerry took out a bottle of chilled Riesling and inspected two glasses, setting them down while she put together a bowl of finger foods—cubes of cheese and pieces of fruit—and tossed in a handful of chocolate kisses and a few carrots just for color and balance.
Whistling softly, she picked up everything and carried it up the stairs, bumping the button on the sound system just before she went out on deck.
Soft strains of music emerged as she balanced along the edge of the boat, climbing up on the bow as Dar turned and spotted her. A smile appeared on Kerry’s face as she took in the sight of her lover burnished in golden sunlight, and it only broadened as Dar came to her side, took the bowl from her, and dropped down on the pad.
While Dar stretched out to full length, resting on one elbow and crossing her long legs at the ankles, Kerry settled down cross-legged to open the bottle. A soft pop rewarded her efforts, and she put down the cork with its puller and poured Dar a glass of wine with a casually expert motion. She handed the glass over and poured her own, then accepted Dar’s invitation and sat in the circle of her arm as Dar rolled over onto her back and they leaned against the slope of the boat’s bow.
The sun began to slip behind the clouds, sending spears of russet through them, and Kerry found herself content to just watch, lulled by the gentle motion of the waves and a feeling of comfortable tiredness from their diving. She sipped her wine, rolling the sweet richness in her mouth, and nibbled on some cheese. She was starting to feel an emotional weight lift off her shoulders. The stress of the past month seemed to lose its grip on her, and she let her head rest against Dar as she soaked in the peace like a bit of sea sponge.
“My mother once painted a sky like this,” Dar said. “I remembe
r it… from when I was still in grade school. She had it hanging over the couch in the living room.”
“Mm.” Kerry tilted her head, amazed at the vividness of the color. “It’s so rich. Why is that, Dar?”
“Angle of inclination.” Dar exhaled. “And the moisture in the air.”
Kerry took a sip of her wine as she gazed at the sky. “Or maybe God’s just in a great mood,” she murmured. “I know I sure am.”
Her eyes drifted from the sunset for a moment. “Thank you for having this incredible idea.”
Dar lifted her glass and touched its rim against Kerry’s.
“Here’s to us.” She took a mouthful and waited for Kerry to do the same, then she gracefully inclined her head and they kissed, exchanging a little wine and a lot of affection.
The breeze lifted a little and tangled their hair together as they settled down to watch the day’s ending.
26 Melissa Good DAR WAITED UNTIL the sky was completely dark and the canopy of stars fit over them from horizon to horizon. It was an amazing sensation—hearing the rustle of the waves and seeing nothing but flat blackness that extended to a sparkling blanket seemingly rising out of nothing.
Kerry was curled up next to her, fast asleep. After their long day of diving and sun, that wasn’t surprising, really, but Dar was glad to see her partner getting some much needed rest. Her father’s death and the stress of the previous month had taken a lot out of her, and Dar intended their little trip to be as relaxing as possible.
She lifted her hand and combed her fingers through Kerry’s hair, brushing it back from her face.
Kerry’s eyelids trembled just a little, and she stirred, snuggling closer to Dar and sliding an arm over her stomach. Then she relaxed again, a puff of exhaled breath warming Dar’s skin.
“Atta girl,” Dar murmured, watching the slow rise and fall of her lover’s ribcage. “You just take it easy. No getting sick.” Kerry had an appointment with their family doctor scheduled upon their return, to repeat tests that not long ago had shown a dangerous rise in her blood pressure, among other things. To hell with the company.
Both of them leaving at once was throwing ILS into chaos, but Dar couldn’t care less. Given her own behavior to the contrary, Dar readily acknowledged the hypocritical nature of her wanting Kerry to put herself before work, but it was what she wanted nonetheless and she refused to apologize for it. She idly twirled a bit of Kerry’s pale hair around her finger, admiring its softness. Already two days in the sun seemed to have lightened it, or maybe Kerry’s deepening tan just provided a greater contrast. Whatever.
Dar watched Kerry’s jaw muscles move a little, then her eyes fluttered open and the tip of her pink tongue appeared. “Hey, sleepy.” She ran the tips of her fingers over Kerry’s back as the smaller woman stretched.
“Mmmm…” Kerry rolled over and gazed up at the night sky.
“Oh, that’s gorgeous,” she murmured. “Look at those stars. There must be a zillion of them.”
“Mmhm.” Dar eased onto her side and wrapped her arms around Kerry, gazing at Kerry’s profile. “Beautiful.”
Kerry felt the attention and turned to meet Dar’s eyes. She still felt sleepy, and a little bemused at having dozed off over their little snack, but she had no real desire to do much about it other than snuggle back up against Dar’s warm body and return to her dreams.
She lifted a hand and stifled a yawn. “Think I overdid it today.”
Me, too, Dar concurred in wry, silent agreement. “How about a shower and an early bedtime,” she suggested.
“Ooo.” Kerry found the idea very appealing. “Yeah, I like that.” She laced her fingers with Dar’s. “We could have some hot Terrors of the High Seas 27
chocolate. It’s a little chilly out here.”
With a smile, Dar lifted herself to her feet and offered Kerry a hand up. They walked together single file around the side of the cabin and down into the stern. Dar turned on the outside lights and reviewed their gear. “I’m going to pull in the buoy. Meet you inside.”
Kerry unexpectedly circled her with both arms and gave her a big hug. “Me and some hot chocolate’ll be waiting.” She released Dar and gave her a pat on the side, then eased through the cabin door.
Dar chuckled softly to herself as she walked to the side of the boat and pulled in the buoy line, then secured the orange buoy to the side of the boat and removed the upright, flexible pole that held their divers flag. The flag indicated to anyone passing by that there were divers under the water, possibly near the surface, and theoretically the boaters would give the spot a wide berth.
However, as in coastal areas where manatees lived and signs to that effect were posted, adherence to the rules varied from ship captain to ship captain, and if you were in an area used by numerous pleasure boaters, you took a risk. Dar herself had a small scar on her back from when she was younger and a miscast shark hook had snagged her and almost pulled her air hose from her first stage.
Out here, there wasn’t much chance of that kind of problem.
Dar fastened the flag into its catches and cast an eye around the stern, checking to make sure everything was in its place. She nodded in satisfaction and entered the cabin, closing the door behind her. Kerry was in the small galley, busy with the cocoa tin, her dark purple swimsuit outlining her body nicely. They had the hatches open, so the night breeze was blowing through, cooling the place off without them having to actually run the small air conditioning unit with which the boat was equipped.
“Everything shipshape, cap’n?” Kerry asked, looking up at her with a mischievous grin.
“Argh.” Dar made a quasi-pirate noise. “I’ll duck into the shower first.”
Kerry continued her task. “We could try getting in there together.”
Dar snorted, shaking her head. “Not even if we were Barbie dolls.” She entered the head and flipped on the light, stripped out of her suit and hung it on one of the hooks on the back of the door.
They had gotten tubes of body soap, conveniently able to also hang on hooks, and she squeezed out a generous amount of apricot scented wash as she turned on the water and stepped under it.
It felt very good to scrub the salt spray off her skin. Swimming in the sea was interesting, and often refreshing, but the minerals in 28 Melissa Good the water made a shower afterwards something she always looked forward to. It also helped prevent sea lice. Dar loved marine life in all its forms, but she drew the line at providing a home for it on her person.
Dar rinsed her hair, then stepped out from under the shower and toweled herself off. She opened the tiny medicine cabinet and removed a glass bottle, unscrewed the top, and pulled out the dropper and filled it. She tilted her head and let several drops fall into her right ear, then did the same with her left. Ear infections weren’t something she much liked, either, and the drops would dry out her ear canals and help prevent infection.
She tucked the towel around her body and sauntered back out into the cabin. “Next.” She traded places with Kerry, who slipped past with a grin. Dar relaxed against the counter as she waited for the water to boil, reaching up and turning on the marine radio to listen to the weather reports.
Funny, how the crackling of the radio and the sound of the shower are so similar.
The water kettle hissed. Dar turned and picked it up, then poured water over the cocoa mix in the cups on the counter. The scent of chocolate enveloped her and she grinned, stirring the foamy liquid with a spoon to make sure it all dissolved. She retrieved the milk from the refrigerator and put a little in each cup.
She was just adding an artistic dollop of whipped cream when Kerry emerged and wandered over, the fresh scent of apricot rising from her skin.
They dressed in T-shirts and sat down together on the couch in the living area, putting their feet up on the bolted down table.
Kerry sipped her chocolate as they listened to the waves for a bit, then she turned to Dar. “You know, I was just thinking—it’s really funny.”<
br />
Dar eyed her. “Yeah?” She waited for the punchline.
“We never really talk to each other.” Kerry watched the expressive face across from her. When Dar blinked and put down her cup, her eyebrows contracting, Kerry nodded. “See?”
“Huh?” Both eyebrows went up and Dar gave her an unfeigned look of bewilderment. “Are you saying we have trouble communicating?”
Kerry shook her head. “No. We communicate perfectly; we just never talk.” She suppressed a grin. “What I mean is, like when I just said that: you didn’t have to say anything to me, I knew what you were thinking.”
Dar relaxed. “You did?”
“Sure.” Kerry pitched her voice a little lower in mimicry of Dar’s. “‘What the hell is she talking about?’ I can tell by your face, by how you move, almost, what you’re feeling.”
Terrors of the High Seas 29
Dar considered that thoughtfully. “Well, we do spend a lot of time with each other,” she allowed.
“True. And it’s hard to have good, vigorous debates with someone you agree with most of the time,” Kerry said. “We haven’t had a fight in a long time.”
A dark eyebrow crawled up Dar’s forehead. “You want to have a fight?”
“Actually, I was listening to a radio program the other day on the way to the Kendall office. This guy was saying how it is a sign of a healthy relationship when you have fights, because you aren’t repressing anything.”
Dar’s other eyebrow joined its mate. “Are you repressing something?”
Kerry pointed at herself. “Me?”
“Yeah.”
“No. Are you?”
Dar frowned. “Not that I know of.” She suddenly became aware of the humor in the situation. “If you really want to test the theory, we could invent something to repress, then have a fight about it.”