Inside were neatly packed flashlights, candles, sterno cans, and other supplies. “Hmph.”
“Okay, all done.” Kerry reported, as she came back into the kitchen.
“What else can I do?”
124
Melissa Good
Dar gazed at her, then ducked back into the laundry room and came out, tossing her a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. “They’ll be big on you, but a whole lot more comfortable than what you’re wearing if the lights go out,” she explained wryly. “It gets pretty warm in here without air conditioning.”
Kerry had caught the garments and glanced at them, then she gave Dar a wry grin. “Makes sense.” She took the clothing with her into the small half bathroom near the study and quickly changed, stifling a giggle at the ungainly size that made her feel like a child. “Good grief.” She removed the belt from her skirt and belted the long T-shirt, then folded her clothing up and returned to the kitchen in her bare feet. The marble tile felt cold and the terra cotta of the living room wasn’t much better.
Dar was still in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and studying the basket. She looked up as Kerry entered, and half grinned at her outfit.
“Definitely big on you.”
Kerry looked down at herself and returned the grin, shrugging her shoulders. “Beats the monkey suit anyway. Thanks.” She went over to the basket. “So, is this a hurricane party?”
The dark-haired woman turned her head and regarded her. “More or less,” she said. “I…there’s canned stuff in the closet for storms. I don’t have much around here otherwise.” She indicated the refrigerator. “I mostly order in from the island restaurants.”
Kerry leaned back on her elbows. “What kind of canned stuff?”
Dar indicated the closet. “I have no idea. I had someone bring an assortment in. I was too busy to do it myself.”
“Uh huh.” Kerry pushed off from the counter and explored the closet.
“Well, I think I can make something interesting out of this.” She looked over her shoulder. “You don’t cook much, do you?”
Dar shook her head. “Not at all. I have cereal for breakfast, and I can make coffee. That’s about it,” she admitted. “Why?”
Kerry sighed, selecting some items and putting them on the counter.
“Well, I’ve gotten myself stuck here in your face, so I might as well make myself useful. “ She went to the refrigerator and studied the contents. “Hmm, I like challenges. Ah…” She pawed in the freezer and retrieved several frosty boxes, which she also set on the counter. “Do you have anything, um, like a pot?”
Silently, Dar pointed to the cupboard. “What are you doing?”
Sea green eyes regarded her in mild amusement. “I’m cooking. I can do that, you know.” She grinned at Dar’s expression. Then she turned to the cabinet. “Let’s see, you said you had cereal.” She opened the door, then turned, and put her hands on her hips. “Dar Roberts, I am not seeing Tony the Tiger in your closet, am I?”
Dar hung her head, then looked up at Kerry through dark lashes with a sheepish grin. “Corn and sugar are two of the food groups, right?” she inquired hopefully. “Let me guess, you do Grape Nuts.”
Kerry glanced around, then tiptoed over to her, and whispered. “Cocoa Krispies, but don’t you tell
anyone
.”
They shared a conspiratorial grin. Then, unexpectedly, Dar reached out and put a hand on Kerry’s shoulder. “Thanks for helping me out, Kerry. Sorry
Tropical Storm
125
it got you stuck here.”
Kerry cocked her head a little, and a gentle smile appeared. “If I helped, then I’m not sorry,” she replied. “Besides, I’d rather be stuck here with you than by myself in this. I hate storms.”
“Fair enough,” Dar answered. “Besides, I learned something new about you.” Kerry’s brows lifted. “You give killer massages.” Dar grinned, catching her by surprise. “Wasn’t on your résumé.”
Unable to suppress a grin of her own, Kerry said, “Glad my skills got put to good use.” They looked at each other in a lengthening silence until Kerry glanced at her culinary selections and cleared her throat. “Right. Well, let me get to it. You must be hungry, I know I am.”
“All right, I’m going to log in and make sure they’re prepping the building,” Dar replied, still gazing at her. “I’ll be in the study if you need anything.”
Green eyes lifted and met hers for a long, searching moment, then dropped away. “Okay. I finished up a bunch of stuff, and I reprinted those reports you were looking for.”
Dar nodded and slipped out of the kitchen, leaving her to her thoughts and the seldom-used range.
THE PAGE ON the screen was surely an important e-mail. Dar ran her eyes over it for the sixth time and still didn’t read it, her thoughts drifting off into some other realm with disgusting ease. Enticing scents from the kitchen kept distracting her, and she tried to remember the last time someone actually cooked something specifically for her, without her paying for it one way or the other.
It had been her father—cooking eggs and bacon, his one and only specialty, on
the morning she’d come home to find him saucily sitting in the living room, his
freshly pressed fatigues almost blending into her furniture. “Just stopping through,”
he’d said, “on my way out.”
Out to Saudi Arabia, he meant. Out of life was what it had been. Dar glanced at the picture, and felt a hand clench her heart. It wasn’t that they’d even spent that much time with each other over the last several years. It was that he, alone among all the people she’d ever known, had understood her.
Understood the competitiveness, and the fierce will, and the desire to conquer she’d inherited from him—and she had understood him, in all his complexity. His had been the only approval she’d ever needed.
When that
picture had been taken—
her eyes flicked to the frame
—he’d strode up after she’d
won the tournament, and put his arm around her, and told anyone who cared to listen
that “this is my kid.”
It had filled her with a sense of belonging that nothing, and no one, had ever equaled. Then he was gone. And she’d sworn at his graveside she would never let anyone touch her heart like that again.
Never.
But now, softly, gently, someone was scratching at the door. Someone who was as different from her as anyone she’d ever met. Her mind told her she was crazy to let it happen. Her heart knew she was helpless to prevent it.
The wind rattled against the shutters, sounding like dried bones clattering together. Dar nodded quietly to herself, and this time, read the e-mail.
126
Melissa Good
KERRY TOOK A last taste, then gave her creation a satisfied look. She’d managed to find some frozen chicken strips, frozen shrimp, and two packages of frozen snow peas, all of which she stir-fried, adding spices whose seals she had to break. Then she made a sauce with peanut butter, milk, a little sugar, more spices, and some ginger. She’d steamed a pot of rice from the bag in the cupboard and found Dar’s stash of plum wine. “All right…” She took out two plates and washed the dust off them, then went to the study door and peered in.
Dar was studying the screen, the light from it washing her tanned complexion and sparkling off her pale eyes. After a moment, those eyes turned and met hers, and a dark brow edged up in question.
“Dinner’s ready,” Kerry stated.
She got a genuine smile back. “Smells interesting.” Dar stood and stretched, then moved around the desk and followed Kerry into the kitchen like a curious puppy dog. She peered over Kerry’s shoulder at the pot and sniffed appreciatively. “Mmm.”
They carried their plates into the living room and rather than use the big table, settled on the couch in front of the television. Just for the hell of it, Dar had lit a candle and put it in the center of the coffee table, and they ate by the flickering light in addition to the TV screen, which Dar flicked on. Quickdraw McGraw was just winning another battle, and she blushed. “Um…”
Kerry chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. I like
Space Ghost
.” She watched as Dar moved through to the Weather Channel, and left it there as warnings and other information scrolled across the screen. She watched it for a moment, making a mental note to call Colleen and make sure her apartment door was closed tight. “Wow.”
“They make it sound worse than it is.” Dar commented, watching the screen. “See that guy? Idiot. Showing us what the storm’s like. Hope it blows his damn toupee off.” She accepted the plate Kerry handed her, piled with a nice mound of rice covered in stir-fry. “Thanks.”
“Hope you really like spicy.” Kerry bit into a piece.
Dar took a bite and chewed, amazed at the result of what appeared to her to be magic from the ingredients Kerry had found. “Wow.” She eyed her companion. “Anything you can’t do?”
Kerry’s blush was readily visible against her fair hair and lashes. “I really suck at bowling,” she finally said, with a chuckle. “Glad you like it.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes. “Migraines really are the worst,”
Kerry commented, after taking a sip of wine to clear her mouth. “Last time I had one, I was in college and it was right before finals. I thought I was going to blow an entire semester.”
“Well.” Dar frowned briefly. “I can live the rest of my life without having another one, that’s for sure.”
“Do you know what triggered it?” Kerry asked. “Mine were usually some food or drink—smoked ham once, in fact.”
Dar didn’t answer, her expression growing thoughtful and a little grim.
“I don’t think it was that,” she remarked finally. “I g…” She hesitated. “I don’t know what it was.”
Kerry watched her from the corner of her eye, a little surprised at the
Tropical Storm
127
sudden change of mood.
Okay, so we’re stuck here with each other, for I don’t know
how long. Something’s bugging her, and she’s a very private person. I should keep my
nose out of her business. Right? Right.
She ate a few more bites, then eyed Dar’s silent profile. And bowed to the inevitable. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Startled, Dar paused in mid chew and looked up at her. “Talk about what?”
“About whatever it is that’s bothering you,” Kerry replied softly. “Look, I know it’s none of my business, but here we are, and I’m a pretty good listener.” She paused, then went on. “Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone you don’t know that well.”
Dar chewed slowly and swallowed, considering the offer. Then she took a breath and released it. “It actually is your business,” she said evenly.
“I...won’t be at work on Tuesday. You’ll need to attend the staff meeting for me at ten.” She ate another piece of chicken. Thinking about it for a moment, she finally admitted, “I have to check in to the Miami Heart Institute, they’re running a bunch of tests on me.”
Kerry was at a loss for words. She hadn’t expected this at all.
“Well…they’re just tests. Maybe they won’t find anything, you know?”
“I know what they’re going to find,” Dar replied quietly. “They’re going to find that I have a…malfunctioning valve.” She kept her eyes on her hands, which rested together. “My father had it.” She picked up her fork and took another bite, outwardly very composed.
Kerry took her cue from that. “They can do something about that, right? I know I heard about some stuff they’ve been doing lately; it’s incredible.”
Dar pressed her lips together and nodded an acknowledgment.
“Probably.”
Kerry looked at her. “How can you be so calm? I’d be a nervous wreck.”
A slight shrug. “Nothing I can do about it. I’m going to drive down there early on Tuesday, probably have to stay overnight.”
Good grief!
Kerry felt like the world had just upended itself into her lap.
She hardly knew Dar, and yet she was suddenly as concerned for her as she would have been for her own family. Maybe even more so. “Dar?”
“Mmm?”
“I don’t want to go to that staff meeting,” Kerry said. “I’d rather take the day off and go down there with you.”
Dar stared at her in honest surprise. “Why?”
“No one should have to go through that alone,” the blonde replied. “Was that what you found out this morning? You looked like you’d gotten bad news. I thought I screwed something up again.”
With a sputter, the lights went out. They were left staring at each other in the low, golden light of the candle, which painted them in tones of ochre and black. Dar finally dropped her gaze to her plate. “All right,” she agreed softly.
“It’s a long day of mostly waiting. I’d appreciate someone intelligent to talk to.”
Kerry felt a sense of relief. “Sounds like a plan,” she began, then her eyes widened as a gust of wind shook the condo. “Whoa! Dar, are we safe in here?”
“Huh? Oh, sure. I went through Andrew in this place.” Dar waved her fork, her mood improving markedly. “This is just a little tropical storm.”
128
Melissa Good
Something slammed against the shutters, and Kerry jumped. “Yow!”
Dar chuckled softly. “Here, come over on this side of me, okay?” They switched places, putting Dar closer to the window. “Better?”
Another bang, and Kerry jumped again, this time right up against her taller companion. “Sorry,” she muttered, drawing away. “I hate storms. We were snowed in for two weeks, once, and I…” She hesitated. “I just don’t like them,” she finished awkwardly.
Dar leaned over and nudged the smaller woman with an elbow. “Don’t worry about it.”
Kerry eyed her and timidly nudged her back. “Easy for you to say.”
They smiled at each other and returned to their plates. Dar was right, Kerry realized. The condo certainly did seem to be getting pretty warm, pretty quickly now that the air conditioning was off. At least she was starting to feel really warm. Maybe it was the chicken.
After they finished, Dar suggested they go into the study, where she’d left the shutters off the north-facing window, a small one, and could open it to get some air in the place. She put a large, faintly cinnamon-scented candle on the desk and sat behind it, while Kerry settled on the small couch against the wall. Dar opened the window and a cool, humid breeze blew in, ruffling her dark hair and stirring the papers on the desk.