Melissa Good - Thicker Than Water

“I think you look really cute,” Mike said. “Angie’s just jealous

’cause she’d never be able to pull off that outfit.”

“Neither would you,” Angie gave him a withering look,

“hippo butt.”

“Look who’s talking,” Mike retorted. “You’re the one who gets her clothing at—”

“Michael,” Kerry said.

He stuck his tongue out at her.

“Remind me again why I wanted siblings,” Dar said to Kerry, with a look of wry amusement. “You know I—” She fell silent by necessity as Kerry stuffed a piece of muffin into her mouth.

“Hush.” Kerry put a fingertip on her nose. “You don’t have siblings because you’re one of a kind.” She smiled at Dar’s charmed expression. “Now, chew, so we can go explore.”

Dar obliged, chewing and swallowing the bit of muffin while she watched her lover and her family trade banter. At least, she sighed, as long as we are here dealing with this disaster, we aren’t back home having to deal with the Naval one waiting for me on my desk.

Dar thoughtfully nibbled another piece of bacon . My ex-desk.

Oh well. She’d figure out something. They had savings in the bank, after all.

THEY WALKED THROUGH the grounds surrounding the house, with Kerry pointing out favored spots from her childhood.

Then they turned out of the gates and walked along the road, its surface sloping up towards the crest of a nearby hill.

“It’s such a different environment,” Dar commented, crunching a bit of snow under her boots. “It’s like you have two worlds in the North, a winter one and a summer one.”

Kerry tucked her gloved hands inside her pockets and watched her breath plume as she exhaled. “That’s true. You’re more aware of the passage of time up here, I think. I always liked 170 Melissa Good spring and summer better. We were out of school in the summer, and at least for a while, that was fun, because I got to go to summer camp.”

“Mm.”

“Winter was always full of social stuff,” Kerry went on.

“Dress ups, and press events, dinners…For a while I tried to get interested in current events so I’d have something intelligent to say when they pointed the camera at me, but after a few instances of that, I got told to just shut up and look good.”

Dar looked at her.

Kerry shrugged. “What can I tell you, Dar? They didn’t want to hear what I had to say, or maybe they were afraid I’d develop an embarrassing view on something.” She chuckled softly. “If they’d only known.”

“Did you?” Dar asked. “Develop a view different from your father’s?”

Kerry considered the question. “I liked some of his positions on things. I thought his view on keeping families together was good, though now after knowing what was going on with that other woman, the hypocrisy kind of stinks. He knew a lot more about international politics than I did, and I didn’t have the matu-rity to understand the machinations he was going through here locally to control funding and maintain a conservative majority.”

Dar grunted thoughtfully.

“I didn’t really start disagreeing with him until I was in college,” Kerry went on. “When I got exposed to the wider world and the many kinds of people in it.”

“Ever talk to him about that?”

“No.” Kerry shook her head and leaned forward a little as they started up a steeper part of the hill. “I tried once, but he told me if that’s what college was doing to me, he’d put a stop to it.”

Dar simply stopped walking. Kerry moved on a few steps, then turned and regarded her. “I want to know something. How in the hell did you become the woman that told me to go to hell in Miami?”

Ah. Good question. Kerry walked back to Dar, took her hand, and led her upward toward the crest of the hill. “It wasn’t something that happened overnight. It was something that was building a little at a time, until I got home after I graduated college with my degree, and was told I was being put to work as a spokes-woman/receptionist in one of my father’s crony’s companies.”

They got to the top of the hill and Kerry paused, regarding the view. “I knew I had a choice. Either put my money where my mouth was and get the hell out of here, or stay here and accept the inevitable.” She walked to a tall, almost bare tree and patted its Thicker Than Water 171

bark. “So I came up here that night and spent hours looking up at the stars, and finally made my decision.”

Dar joined her. “Not a popular one.”

“No.” Kerry exhaled. “After I’d accepted Associated’s job offer that next morning, I called Brian and told him, then I just packed, told my parents I was taking the job and left.” She leaned on the tree. “But they didn’t make it easy. He kept after me con-stantly. They hoped they’d wear me down and I’d just give up and come home.”

Dar gazed at her. “And I almost made that happen.”

Kerry turned and looked at her. “Almost. But you also were what made me choose my life over their plans for it, and that more than makes up for what might have been, Dar.” She decided to lighten up the conversation. “So, here we have my very first decision tree.”

Dar studied Kerry’s face for a few moments, then relaxed into a smile. “Nice view up here.” She indicated the opposite slope.

The hill was fairly steep, and featured a long stretch of even whiteness, ending in a clear area at the bottom with only a few trees that might provide a dangerous impediment. “That where you used to slide down?”

“Yep.” Kerry sighed. “Wish we had a sled; I’d love to take you for a ride.”

“Well,” Dar removed her small penknife from her pocket,

“first things first.”

Kerry walked to Dar and eyed the knife. “Honey, I love you, but you can’t cut down the tree with that to make a sleigh for me.

I just won’t let you,” she warned with a serious look. “I’d rather get the car and drive to Wal-Mart.”

Dar laughed.

“No, really, sweetie.” Kerry took the knife from her fingers.

“Give me that.” Dar swiped the tool back. “I wasn’t going to cut the damn tree down.” She circled the trunk and found a good spot. “Just do a little carving.” She set to work with Kerry peering over her shoulder.

“Oh.” Kerry smiled. “Okay.” She turned away and explored the hilltop, kicking bits of half buried wood around with the toe of her hiking boot. The wind was stiffer up there and it blew her hair back, stinging her eyes with its chill as she gazed down the slope.

“That night seems so long ago,” she said to the air. “I was so scared. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, or where I might end up.” The branches overhead chuckled together. “But I looked up at those stars, and they told me to follow my heart.”

She turned and watched Dar. Dar’s brow was creased in concentration as she carved careful letters. “And that’s what I ended up 172 Melissa Good doing, isn’t it?”

“You say something to me?” Dar poked her head around the tree trunk. “Almost done.”

Kerry strolled to Dar and kissed her on the nose. “Take your time, Geppetto.” She admired the neat heart shaped cut and the curved letters taking form under Dar’s skilled hands. “I bet you could carve wood, if you wanted to.”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?” Dar finished a K and started on the S. “Or do you mean like sitting on the porch in a rocking chair whittling kind of thing.” She flicked a piece of bark out of her way. “I think I’ll wait for retirement for that, when I’m too old and creaky to do anything else.”

Kerry rested her chin on Dar’s shoulder and exhaled. “We can be old and creaky together. Can you imagine what great memories we’ll have by then?” She had a touch of wonder in her voice.