Thicker Than Water

Chapter

Seven

WELL, KERRY EYED the snow-covered landscape going by, at least I feel a hell of a lot more relaxed than I did yesterday. She flexed her hands inside her lined gloves and tightened her grip on the steering wheel, sparing a glance at the passenger side. “Depressing, isn’t it?”

Dar was examining the view out the front and side windows.

“Um…” It was mostly flat land with dead trees, though the occasional evergreen, dripping with heavy white snow, threw a splotch of color into the mix. “It’s definitely sort of,” she paused,

“bland.”

“Yeah. One of the things I noticed first when I moved down to Florida was how damn colorful it is.” Kerry pulled off the highway and turned onto the road that would eventually lead to her parents’ house. “Sometimes I forget how much it’s not like that in the north in winter.”

Dar settled back, folding her arms across her chest. “Must be nice in summer, though. And it’s kinda pretty, with all that snow and all. Looks like something off a Currier and Ives print.”

“I guess,” Kerry said. “It can be fun around here. I used to have a good time in winter, sledding down hills and ice skating.

And in summer, on the lake.” She noted the new buildings on the low horizon. “They’re finally getting Starbucks out here. Good grief.”

Dar chuckled. “I don’t know, Ker. Doesn’t seem like a bad place to grow up.” She reviewed the passing countryside. “No worse than where I did, at any rate.”

“Hm.” Kerry watched the once familiar landscape go by. She turned right onto a sloping street, bordered on one side by stately walls, the houses behind them hidden from view. On the other side the road pitched down to a snow covered hillside, giving a view across a small valley of more isolated homes on the far side.

How many times had she turned up this road? Walked up it—

from the church, from school…and now it just looked cold and Thicker Than Water 97

strange to her. Someplace she no longer belonged.

“You definitely fit better in the tropics,” Dar commented out of the blue. “You have to wear too much clothing up here.”

Kerry gave her a quick glance, then she turned into the opening in the long, brick wall they’d been driving alongside. “It’s definitely a whole different world.” She pulled up next to a gate and opened her window, allowing a cold, wet draft in. The gate guard bent down to look at her, then almost jerked back in surprise.

“Ms. Kerry!” The older man, dressed in a thick winter parka, smiled. “Been a long time.”

A year. Kerry nodded. “Yes, it has, John. How are you?”

“I’m doing great.” He leaned closer. “I’m sorry about your father.” His eyes flicked briefly to Dar, then back to Kerry. “Terrible thing.”

“Thanks.” Kerry gave him a small smile. He straightened and opened the gate, and she drove carefully through and continued up the driveway. At the end of it was a circular drive and the imposing, classic outline of her family’s home.

A tiny shiver passed over her as she remembered the last time she’d driven down that road, the night she’d revealed her relationship with Dar, the night her father had thrown her into a mental institution.

The night Dar had claimed her, powering her way into the hospital with a ruse so incredible, she still didn’t believe they’d had gotten away with it.

That night, when they’d driven back to pick up Kerry’s things and she’d had her one, last, furious confrontation with her father and left the house, crossing the line in no uncertain terms to go back home to her new life, her new job, and her new lover.

Kerry pulled up on one side of the circle and put the car into park. Fortunately, there were only two other cars there. She suspected they were Angie and Michael’s, and the press seemed to be completely absent. “Well,” she looked at Dar, “here we are.”

“Let’s go then.” Dar smiled at her. “Nice to see this place in the daylight this time.”

Ah. Kerry got out of the car and shut the door, taking a deep breath of the cold air before she trudged around and joined Dar on the short walk up to the front door. Halfway there, Dar wrapped long fingers around hers. It felt wonderful.

Kerry lifted her shoulders and almost smiled as she used the huge, brass doorknocker. She heard footsteps behind the door, then the lock turned and the portal opened. Her brows lifted.

“Hey.”

Angie looked profoundly relieved. “Good grief, get in here before you freeze.” She pulled Kerry and, by default since their 98 Melissa Good hands were still linked, Dar, into the house and shut the door behind them. “I’m really glad you decided to come over, sis.” Her eyes shifted. “Good morning, Dar.”

“Morning,” Dar replied.

“Seems quiet here today,” Kerry ventured. “Where is everyone?”

“It’s just us,” Angie answered. “Mom, Mike, and me. Everyone else is someplace else, and I for one am damn glad of it.” She took Kerry’s arm. “C’mon, we’ve just started breakfast.”

Kerry resisted the tug, giving Angie a direct look. “Was that on purpose?”

Angie hesitated. “Ker.”

“It’s all right. I wasn’t looking forward to a screaming match with uncle Al over coffee,” Kerry said. “And God knows we don’t want the press to know Dar and I are normal people who eat with forks and shave our legs.”

Dar’s eyebrows lifted. She patted Kerry on the back, but was at a loss for words.

“Kerry, c’mon now, that’s not fair,” Angela said. “Maybe we wanted a little peace too, you know? It’s been really tough around here the last few days.”

“Yeah.” Kerry pointed towards the dining room. “Whatever.

Let’s go.”

Angie sighed, but she turned and led the way inside, straightening her blouse as she entered the foyer and crossed its marble emptiness.

Dar followed behind the sisters, taking a moment to look around at the interior of the house. She remembered it somewhat differently than it was now, probably due to the circumstances and the late hour. In the daylight, the house was a large, airy, well designed place with vaulted ceilings and a beautiful curved stairway going up to the second story.

They walked through the foyer and under an archway she vaguely remembered, then turned and entered a small dining room with a vaulted skylight that let in the wan winter sun.

Seated at the table were Cynthia and Michael, and both looked up as the trio entered.

Dar watched them carefully for a reaction, pleased when she saw welcome and relief. She’d figured that might be the case, but with Kerry’s family you never knew, and she had no intention of standing quietly by if it were otherwise. She was rested, her arm was much better, they’d had a great night together, and she was feeling pretty feisty.

“Ah. Kerrison.” Cynthia stood and came over to them. “I’m so sorry about yesterday.” Michael got up also and went to hug his Thicker Than Water 99

sister.

“It’s okay.” Kerry decided to be gracious about it for the moment. “I needed a break last night anyway.” She returned Michael’s hug and gave her mother a smile. “How are you?”

“As well as you might imagine,” Cynthia replied. “Come sit and have something for breakfast.” Her eyes drifted up and met Dar’s. “And you as well, Dar.”

It was a peculiar experience, Dar mused. She followed them back to the table and sat down on a chair she recognized as antique, at a table covered in fine linen, china, and silver service.

For breakfast. Dar shook her head a little, turning when she sensed a presence at her elbow.

A young woman stood there with a tray. “May I put this down, ma’am?”

Dar nodded, and was presented with a plate of fresh fruit and gently steaming eggs, then the woman put an identical plate in front of Kerry. Dar noticed that Kerry, though giving the woman a quiet thanks, otherwise treated this as a completely natural thing, and it struck her how different this was from their normal lives.

Breakfast at home, such as it was, generally consisted of a glass of something—milk for her, juice for Kerry—and something that would give them energy for running. Usually eaten standing in their kitchen, while the sky outside the window turned from inky black to the pearly pink of dawn.

Hm. Dar had known Kerry’s family was well off. She’d known, at an intellectual level, that her lover had been brought up with the proverbial silver spoon in her mouth, and little things like her impeccable manners sometimes reminded her of that. But it was strange to actually see her fitting in here. She listened to the talk, slightly strained and very general, everyone staying away from any controversy, and wondered if that was normal, or just put in place because of the uncomfortable things between them all.

“Excuse me, Dar?”

Shaken out of her musings, Dar looked up and met Cynthia Stuarts’ eyes. “Yes?”

“Kerrison told Angela you weren’t well last night?”

Huh? I was g… “Oh.” Dar cleared her throat slightly. “It’s not really anything. I managed to do a little damage to my shoulder recently, and it was giving me some trouble. Maybe the weather.”

She inhaled in surprise as Kerry poked her under the table, and she shot her partner a look. One of Kerry’s eyebrows was raised and a half smile tugged at her lips. “What?”

Cynthia gazed at both of them with a mildly puzzled look.

“Well, I certainly hope you feel better today, after resting.”

100 Melissa Good

“Resting?” Dar asked with a slight drawl, seeing Kerry’s eyes widen out of the corner of her own. “Oh, right. I feel much better today, thanks.” There was an awkward little silence, which Dar used to ingest a forkful of eggs in peace.

“So, what project are you working on now, Ker?” Michael asked, neatly changing the subject.

“Well,” Kerry took a sip of juice, “I just finished reorganizing one of our operational divisions, and we added two brand new support groups in the western US. My life’s been a lot nicer since Dar put our new network online.”

“Everyone’s has,” Dar said wryly. “Even mine.”

“How does it help?” Angie asked. “I remember reading in the paper about your company doing something that revolutionized something or other, and it was very fast.”

Kerry took a biscuit, sliced it open, and neatly added a pat of butter to it. It gave her a moment to try and come up with a way to explain to her family what she did. How do you describe high speed, high bandwidth WAN networking to someone who never even turned on a computer? “Well…”

“A network is like a highway,” Dar said. “If you have a few cars on it, everyone goes fast. Add more cars, everyone starts to go slower. Find a spot in the road where it narrows, and everyone bottlenecks and comes to a standstill.”

“All right.” Cynthia nodded. “That seems clear.”

“We had mostly two and three lane highways. I made them forty lanes across,” Dar said. “And took out the speed limit.”

“And made everyone buy Ferraris,” Kerry murmured.

“Ah!” Cynthia looked pleased. “Yes, that’s very clear. I understand.”

“Yeah, so do I,” Michael added. “Outrageous. Can you explain what a chip is next?”

Dar looked him right in the eye. “You sure you can handle it?

It involves a lot of silicon.”

Michael gazed uncertainly at her, not sure if she were joking or not. “Does that hurt?”

“Only if you get some up your wazoo,” Kerry replied dryly.

“So, what have you been up to, Mike?” She neatly cut off a square of biscuit and collected some eggs with it on her fork. It was stressful and uncomfortable, and Kerry realized they were all putting a conspicuous gloss over a lot of things. But haven’t we always? Why should this be any different from any other time?

“We’ve made some plans,” Cynthia murmured into the small silence that had fallen. “The service is scheduled for three tomorrow.” She paused and took a breath. “I realize it’s quite short notice, but the staff seems to feel—”

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“Mother,” Kerry put her fork down, “who cares what the staff thinks? Is that what you want to do?”

Cynthia shifted uncomfortably. “Well, dear, it’s really not…”

She stopped. “There are quite good reasons for it, you see—”

“Bullshit.” Kerry found herself getting really angry. She stood up. “First they have the balls to tell me to stay away, then they tell you when you should bury daddy? Where are these assholes? I want to talk to them, right now.”

Dar blinked in mild alarm, put out a hand, and laid it carefully on Kerry’s back. She could feel the tension vibrating through her lover. “Hey,” she murmured. “Easy.”

“Kerrison!” Cynthia protested. “Come now, your language.

They’re doing what they think is best for all of us; surely you understand?”

“No.” All of a sudden it became too much for Kerry. “I don’t understand. It’s never what’s best for us, only what’s best for them. Always.” She ducked out from behind her chair and just started walking, needing space and air, an overwhelming fury buzzing around her head like a swarm of bees. She got through the dining room door and kept moving, one hand grabbing the door edge and slamming it shut behind her. The solid crash of wood against wood gave her primal satisfaction.

THERE WAS A definite silence after she left. Dar felt all eyes turn to her and she took a breath before she looked back from the now closed door to her lover’s family. “Um…” She set her silver-ware aside.

“Well,” Cynthia Stuart put her napkin down, “I must go speak with her.”

“No.” Dar stood. “I’ll take care of this,” she said with quiet firmness, then put her own napkin down and followed Kerry without waiting for them to respond.

The door closed again behind her. “This is outrageous,” Cynthia said.

“What did you think was going to happen?” Angela asked. “I told you she’s still really ticked off, mother. Did you really think she’d just waltz back in here and everything would be peaches and cream again?”

“She could make an effort. We are her family,” Cynthia replied.

“Maybe it would help if she hadn’t been tossed in the looney bin last time she was here,” Mike replied bluntly. “Or if you hadn’t told her she wasn’t welcome here last night because she’s gay. That would put me in a bad mood, too.”

102 Melissa Good

“She wasn’t coming anyway,” Angie muttered.

“We’ve discussed that.” Cynthia looked annoyed. “You know your father was just doing what he considered best for Kerry.”

“Bull.” Angie slapped her cup down. “I’m so tired of hearing that. He had no interest in what was best for Kerry, and you know it. All he cared about was not letting the press find out he had a gay daughter.”

“Angie.” Cynthia gave her an exasperated look. “Please.”

“It’s true.” Now Angela was upset. “I’ve had to listen to two days of everyone saying what a freaking saint he was, and I’m sick of it.” She took a breath. “No one here’s grieving, mother; we all know that. He never cared about any of us, just himself.”

Cynthia sighed. “He was a very forceful man.”

“And Kerry was the only one of us who had the guts to stand up to him,” Mike said. “Now she’s paying for that big time, when all these freaking people should be patting her on the back and saying ‘good job.’ If they treat her like that again this afternoon, I’m going to kick their asses out of the house.”

“Michael!” Cynthia stared at him.

“I don’t care!” Mike stood up. “I don’t give a shit about any of them. Kerry’s the person I care about. She’s my sister, and I’ll be God damned if those two-faced, lying bastard uncles are going to give her grief. And if I can’t do it by myself, I’ll get Dar to help me. I bet she could kick their asses sound asleep.” He pushed his plate back and stepped away from the table. “I’m outta here.”

“Me, too,” Angie said. “And if any of those weasel aides say a word, I’m going to slap them.” She followed Michael out the door, leaving her mother in pristine silence.

Cynthia released a breath and sat back. The door opened and a tall, slim man, carrying an appointment book and a pen, entered.

He took a seat next to her.

“We’ve got everything scheduled, Mrs. Stuart. Here are the details.” He offered her a sheet. “Now, the press will be by later, as the more important guests arrive. We need to discuss how you want to present the family.” He gave her a little, sympathetic smile. “I know we’ve got some work to do on that.”

Cynthia looked at the paper, then looked at him. She placed a fingertip on the page and moved it back to him. “I’m afraid you’ve got it a bit wrong. My family’s perfectly capable of presenting itself, and you would do well to remain uninvolved.”

He looked a little surprised, but regrouped quickly. “There are certain things—”

“No, there are not,” Cynthia said with calm finality. “If the press wishes to come and make a spectacle of itself, it may do so.

My children are free to speak to them or not, as they please. I will Thicker Than Water 103

not tolerate any interference with any of them.”

“But—”

“Henderson, have I not made myself clear?”

“Mrs. Stuart, you know we’re only working to present a united front and a positive image of your late husband in these trying times—”

“Nonsense,” Cynthia said. “Please let’s stop using euphemisms. You are anxious about the press asking after Kerrison, is that right?”

He hesitated briefly. “The more sensational papers, yes. It really doesn’t conform to the image we’re trying to build, you see, and—”

“Mr. Henderson,” Cynthia sharply tapped him on the arm,

“my husband is dead. He no longer cares about his image. It’s difficult for Kerrison to be here, and I simply will not allow you to make it more trying for her. Is that clear?”

“Mrs. Stuart—”

“If you were even slightly intelligent,” Cynthia finally lost her patience, “you would realize that antagonizing my eldest daughter is an extremely stupid idea.” She paused. “Her father learned that lesson far too late.” She stood up. “If we’re finished, I must go and change. Goodbye.”

Henderson was left alone in the large dining room, its walls still ringing with Cynthia’s last words.

DAR PROWLED THROUGH the uneasily still house, following a logical guess as to where Kerry had run off to. Kerry’s unusual explosion of temper had surprised Dar, but she could tell the tension was ratcheting Kerry up to a point where almost anything could happen.

Ahead of her, she spotted daylight, and she turned into a small corridor and found herself inside a solarium. Its thick, insulated glass panes hazed the scene outside, but it provided natural light and she had a feeling if she poked around inside, she’d find what she was looking for.

A soft creak signaled her, and Dar walked quietly between two rows of precisely trimmed flowers. Near the back of the solarium was a two person, padded swing, only half occupied. Ah.

Kerry’s back was to her, but as Dar approached, the blond head turned in her direction.

They regarded each other for a moment, then Dar slipped into the seat next to Kerry and simply took her hand, and laced their fingers together in silent sympathy. They sat quietly, rocking a little on the bench as they watched the snow come down outside.

104 Melissa Good Finally, Kerry took a deep breath, pulled Dar’s hand up, and tucked it against her heart before she spoke. “If I ask you something, will you promise not to think I’m a coward?”

“Sure,” Dar answered. “When do you want to leave?”

Kerry leaned against Dar’s shoulder. “I don’t want to, but I think I have to, Dar. If I stay through this, it’s only going to get worse.” Dar’s fingers tightened around hers. “I can’t deal with it, and I don’t want you to have to.”

Dar understood, possibly far more than Kerry imagined. “I remember being at Daddy’s funeral service. A service, not a burial, because they told us there wasn’t anything left to bury.”

Kerry remained very quiet.

“And I hated everyone.” Dar had to stop for a minute, as a vivid memory of that cold day sharpened in her mind’s eye. “All these people getting up and talking about him…they had no clue who he was, or how he’d lived his life.” She slowly shook her head. “They wouldn’t let me talk.”

Kerry just closed her eyes.

“So, I ran,” Dar said. “I ran out of there and kept running, all the way home.”

“From Connecticut?” Kerry asked, very softly.

“Yeah,” Dar replied, just as quietly. “I hitched back…walked…took a bus once in a while. Gave me time to get it out of my system.”

“The anger?”

Dar shook her head. “The grief.”

Kerry regarded the frosted glass in front of her. “You know something, Dar?”

“Mm?” Dar slipped her arm around Kerry’s back.

“I wish I’d had a father worth that kind of feeling.” Kerry’s eyes closed as Dar encircled her arms around her and pulled her close.

Dar rested her cheek against Kerry’s hair. “You do.”

That’s true, Kerry acknowledged. After knowing them less than a year, she was closer to Andrew and Ceci than she had ever been to her own parents after most of her lifetime. She loved Dar’s parents deeply, just as she did their daughter, and she was grateful beyond words that she had them in her life.

Is it even worth staying for the service tonight? “Let’s go home,”

she whispered. “I can’t change how they feel about me, Dar. I’m going to leave them to their hatred and stupidity.”

“All right.” Dar hugged her. “Home sounds good to me, too.”

DAR FOLLOWED KERRY out of the solarium and across the Thicker Than Water 105

quiet, spacious parlor. “It’s a nice place.” she glanced around.

“Plenty of room.”

Kerry slowed her steps and turned around. “I guess it is. I never really thought of it that way, though, because so much of the house was pretty much off limits to us as kids.” She paused, then walked to a painting on the wall and looked at it, and touched the canvas with a curious finger. “We used to get pun-ished for grabbing anything.”

Dar had wandered next to Kerry. “Punished?”

“Yelled at,” Kerry clarified. ‘Sent to our rooms, mostly.” She eyed the painting. “I only got hit once that I remember, and all because of this damn stupid thing.”

“Really?” Dar examined the painting. “What’s there to this that’s worth being hit for?”

“It’s a Renoir.” Kerry indicated the signature. “And I always thought it was way too dull and ugly, so one day I took my box of one hundred and twenty-eight Crayola crayons and changed that.”

Dar bit the inside of her lip, but a tiny snort of laughter escaped anyway. “Oh boy.”

“Mm. Yeah, it wasn’t pretty.” Kerry smiled faintly. “I had to drag one of those antique chairs over here and climb all over it to get all the squares filled in. Did I mention it had been raining outside, and I was covered in mud?”

“Oh, Kerry.” Dar covered her face with one hand. “You want to know something really funny?”

“What? Did you do the same thing when you were a kid?”

Kerry turned and grinned at her. “Don’t tell me that.”

“No.” Dar shook her head. “If I’d shown the least bit of interest in drawing, my mother would have thrown a party. But on the way up here, I was thinking of how much I wish we’d met sooner.” She rested a hand on Kerry’s shoulder. “I would have liked a friend like you.”

Kerry spared a moment to remember the increasingly lonely years after her childhood, a life full of acquaintances and parties, activity and publicity, but very few real friends. She would have loved to have known Dar then, but she also knew the sad reality of the fact that her parents would have prevented their friendship.

“I’m glad we didn’t.” She covered Dar’s hand with her own to soften the words. “I wasn’t ready to know you back then.” Dar cocked her head in mild consternation. “I still believed in my parents, and they…” Kerry glanced away, then back up at Dar’s face.

“I’m glad I met you when I did.”

Dar’s lips twitched into a smile. “Do you really think I’d have let your parents stand between me and a friend, even at that age?

106 Melissa Good We would have been tabloid city: ‘Wild child corrupts senator’s daughter—film at eleven.’”

Kerry had to smile, both at the sentiment and the mental picture.

“Besides,” Dar pointed at the picture, “anyone with the will to color by number a Renoir would have been right up my alley.”

She surprised Kerry with a gentle kiss. “My mother would have adopted you in the vain hope you’d rub off on me.”

Kerry drew in a breath, then released it as a certain tension eased out of her. She put her arms around Dar and simply hugged her as hard as she could. Then she released her. “C’mon. Let me give you the ten cent tour then. I don’t know if I’ll have another chance.” She held out a hand, which Dar took, then led the way through the labyrinth of rooms.

The first place they went was the library. Kerry pushed the door open and was hit with the inimitable smell of a critical mass of books. The room had traditionally dark paneling and a thick wool rug, with heavy leather and brass bound furniture and floor to ceiling shelves of books on all four walls.

“This was a favorite spot,” Kerry said, as Dar roamed around the room and studied the books. “Not so much for the subject matters—I brought my own books in here—but it was always a nice, quiet place to hide in.” She walked to a chair near the corner and settled into it. “Seems a lot smaller now.”

Dar walked to the chair and leaned on it. “I also had a spot I used to disappear with a book into. Wasn’t as cushy as this, but I know what you mean.”

Kerry nodded. “Your dad’s a big reader. Was that really Wuthering Heights on his workbench the other day?”

“Mmhm,” Dar murmured.

“Incredible.” Kerry got up and tugged Dar after her. “One of the good things about all these doors is that you could always escape out one way if anyone official or anything was coming in the other way.” They walked down one hallway and turned into another. “Here’s another favorite spot.” She pushed open a swinging door and peeked into the kitchen.

Dar poked her head in also, to see a large, well laid out room with commercial quality cooking equipment. A tall, black woman entered from the other side, then stopped in surprise at seeing two faces looking back at her.

“Ms. Kerry? Is that you?” the woman asked, setting down a bundle of clothes she’d been carrying. “C’mon in here!”

Kerry eased the door open and entered. “Hello, Betsy. Yes, it is.” She walked over and gave the woman a hug. “Been a while, huh?” A year, to be exact. “You look great.”

Thicker Than Water 107

Betsy smiled. “Honey, so do you.” She looked curiously at Dar. “This your friend?”

It didn’t even feel strange, which, in and of itself, was very odd. “This is my partner, Dar.” Kerry smiled. “Dar Roberts. Dar, this is Betsy Stonewright. She’s been a part of the staff here since before I was born.”

“Now, don’t you be revealing how old I am, Ms. Kerry.”

Betsy shook a finger at her, then extended a hand to Dar. “You take your horns off before you come in here, Ms. Dar?” She had a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “’Cause I heard you had a nice pair of them.”

Dar chuckled, took her hand, and returned the strong grip.

“Yeah. I left them with the tail and the pitchfork back at the hotel.” She ruffled Kerry’s hair. “She’s got a little baby pair, too.”

Betsy snorted. “Honey, I’ve seen hers, and they ain’t little. I could tell you some stories about how this little angel used to turn this place upside down.”

Kerry blinked innocently. “Who, me?” She pointed at her own chest, then smiled. “I was just telling Dar about my artistic assault on Renoir.”

“Lordy, that was some day.” Betsy shook her head, then sobered as she took Kerry’s hand. “Kerry, I’m sorry about your daddy. I know you and him didn’t get on, but still and all…”

“Thanks.” Kerry accepted the words with quiet grace. “Well, listen, we don’t want to disrupt anything; I was just showing Dar around. Is Mary here?”

“She’ll be back shortly. Hold on now.” Betsy ducked into the large walk-in refrigerator on one side of the kitchen, then reappeared with two small cups. “Here you go.” She handed one to Kerry and offered the other to Dar. “Unless you done decided you don’t like chocolate any more.”

“Not hardly.” Kerry accepted the treat with a smile. “I still have dreams about your mousse cups, Betsy. Thank you.” She slipped her other arm around Dar and leaned against her. “Dar likes chocolate, too.”

“A little. Thanks.” Dar draped an arm over Kerry’s shoulders.

“Where to next?”

“Wanna see my nursery?” Kerry asked. “I think there might still be chuck-up stains somewhere.”

“Lead on.” Dar winked at Betsy. They left the kitchen, leaving the cook behind, shaking her head and chuckling.

“Lord.” Betsy heard the sound of the back door opening.

“That you, Mary?” She turned to see a short, well muffled woman with ginger white hair and gray eyes enter.

“Yes, ma’am, and who else would it be?” Mary took her coat 108 Melissa Good off. “Did I miss something?”

Betsy gave her a smug grin. “You most certainly did, woman.” She crossed her arms. “You just missed meeting that infamous Dar Roberts.”

“No!” Mary looked devastated. “You’re having me on.”

“I am not. She was just standing right here in this kitchen,”

Betsy said. “And, child, let me tell you, there was a lot to see. I always did say that Ms. Kerry had a good eye, and sister, oh, did she pick a nice one.”

Mary chuckled. “Only one in this whole damn family with a lick of sense and a passel of taste.”

THEY ENDED THEIR tour in the large foyer, standing at the foot of the large, curved stairway that led up to the bedrooms on the second floor. Dar had gotten the impression that the place was a beautiful, certainly impressive home with absolutely no sense of its occupants’ personalities.

Now, Dar was honest with herself, one could really say the same about the condo, right? Her brows creased as she considered that, letting Kerry ramble on about the architecture. Her thoughts ran over the changes in her own home over the last year, and she had to sheepishly admit that her supposition was no longer valid.

How had she let Kerry convince her to have those damn doo-dlings framed? Anyway, Dar dismissed the thought, this place has even less personality. Kerry’s old apartment held far more.

“Excuse me.” A male voice caught their attention, and they turned to see a tall, slim man standing nearby, his hands folded primly in front of him.

“Yes?” Kerry replied warily. “Can I do something for you?”

The man approached. “I’m Tak Henderson. I’m part of the senatorial staff.”

Dar bit her tongue to prevent ill thought out words from emerging. The man’s smug attitude made her nape hairs bristle, and she moved instinctively closer to Kerry.

“Yes?” Kerry repeated.

“Ms. Stuart, I can appreciate this is a difficult time. It’s hard for all of us,” Henderson said. “I’m sure you don’t want to make it harder than it has to be.”

Kerry’s green eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“Listen.” He lowered his voice. “I know this hasn’t been very pleasant. I’m sorry you’ve had such a rough time of it, but is there any real reason to keep it going?”

Kerry’s features settled into a cool mask. “You’re suggesting I leave?”

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“Wouldn’t it be better?” Henderson asked evenly. “C’mon, Ms. Stuart, no one needs the trouble you’ve had to go through.”

It was exactly what Kerry had been thinking. She was aware of Dar’s silent presence at her side, lending a solid, tangible support just an extended hand away. Dar would be glad to go home.

She would be glad. She wanted so badly to smell the salt tang in the air on their porch and feel Chino’s warm welcome. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine herself there—snuggled up with Dar on the couch, a bowl of Thai chicken between them and glasses of chilled plum wine just within reach.

Kerry sighed. There was so much good about her life. She had a nice place to live, a good job, loving friends, a pretty dog, and a drop dead gorgeous partner who was inexplicably crazy about her. Maybe this dweeb was right, and her choice had been the right one. “That’s true.” She exhaled. “It’s been a bitch.”

Henderson seemed to sense his advantage, and he smiled. “I think you’d feel a lot better being out of it.”

Kerry studied him. “You’re right, I would.” She made a decision and hoped her beloved partner wasn’t going to wring her neck for it. “But, unfortunately for both of us, I’m not going anywhere, so you might as well take your clipboard out of your ass and find something useful to do.”

Henderson got caught completely flat footed. He stared at Kerry with a slightly hanging jaw for a few seconds, then collected himself. “Now just wait a—”

Dar slipped in front of Kerry and closed in on Henderson, who backed up a step in reflex. “Henderson, you said your name was?” she asked in her silky, dangerous, boardroom voice.

“Yes.”

“All right, Mr. Henderson,” Dar said. “Let me tell you something. I’ve had it about up to here,” Dar lifted a hand to her forehead, “with bullshit attitudes. If you don’t leave right now, and keep clear of Kerry until she decides to go elsewhere, I’m going to call up every major news agency and spend a half hour telling them just what a bunch of skunks live up here in the woods of Saugatuck.” She paused. “Got me?”

His whole face twitched. “I don’t know that they—”

“Oh yes, they would,” Dar said. “And if that’s not enough, I’ll call the tabloids and give ’em good shots of me and Kerry kissing on the doorstep out there. How ’bout that?”

That shut him up.

“I thought so.” Dar pointed to the door. “Move it.”

Surprisingly, Henderson did just that. He walked right past them into what was formerly the senator’s study and closed the door. Dar considered the door, then released a satisfied little 110 Melissa Good grunt. “So, we’re sticking around, huh?”

Kerry sighed. “Are you going to kill me?”

Dar affectionately ruffled her hair. “Nah. You can make it up to me by finding me more two bit, half witted, stuffed socks I can practice my intimidation skills on.” She chuckled softly. “I almost forgot how much I enjoy doing that.”

“All right.” Kerry took her hand and pulled. “C’mon. Let me show you one last place.”

“Your bedroom? I’ve seen it,” Dar teased.

Kerry smiled privately. “No, the attic.”

“YOU THINK THE governor’s really going to do it?” Mike asked, as they reached the room Angie had been staying in and sat down on the bed. “Name mom to take dad’s spot?”

Angie shook her head. “It seems ridiculous. Why should our mother be a senator, just because she was married to our father?

She doesn’t know the first thing about politics. You know she always made a point of steering clear of all that.”

“Yeah, I know,” Mike said. “But you have all those scum-buckets who worked for him desperate to keep their jobs. And how else will they do it? Not like they can just dig up an election this time of year.”

“Mm.” Angie nodded. “That’s true. Hope she tells them to go stuff it.”

Mike’s lips quirked into a smile. “You’re in a feisty mood today.”

Angie sighed. “I’m just sick of it. That stuff with Kerry pissed me off.”

“Me, too.” Mike nodded. “I mean, it’s not like it’s this deep dark secret anymore, so what’s the big deal? If the lawyers hadn’t been stupid enough to make Kerry just blurt it out on national television, that’d have been one thing, but, Jesus, like, who cares anymore?”

Angie shrugged. “That’s what I was thinking, too. It’s old news, and besides, it’s not like she’s done anything really radical, like buying a motorcycle or getting a tattoo.”

Mike self-consciously cleared his throat.

Angie looked at him. “Oh, you didn’t.”

He batted long, dark lashes back at her with devastating innocence. “Don’t worry. No one’ll see it unless they get me really mad, and I show them where they can kiss my ass. Tony and Brad and I went out last week and got pretty plastered. They bet me I didn’t have the guts to go through with it, so…”

Angie sighed. “Michael.”

Thicker Than Water 111

“I know, I know.” Michael grinned. “I’m a jerk.”

“You’re hopeless. When are you going to grow up?”

Michael shrugged.

They were quiet for a moment. “You going to keep working for the publicity firm?” Angie asked.

Michael stared at the floor past his clasped hands. “I dunno. I haven’t really thought about it. I don’t have to now, do I?”

“No.” Angie shook her head. “But he’s not around to get your butt out of trouble anymore, either.”

“I could run away and join the circus.”

“Mike.”

“You going to tell mamma about Brian?”

Angie fell back onto the bed and gazed up at the ceiling.

“Maybe. I might have to. I slipped the other day and left Andy’s medical papers out where Richard could see them.”

Michael looked at her. “So? He doesn’t have Brian’s name branded on his ass, does he?”

“No, but my blood type is O and Richard’s is A. Andrew’s is B, just like Brian’s,” Angie said with a grimace. “I told Richard they must have made a mistake on the papers.”

“Ah,” Michael murmured. “Well, if things get real bad, you can reveal that little tidbit, I’ll pull down my pants, and Kerry’ll come out looking like the Republican in the family.”

Angie paused a moment, then burst out laughing. Mike joined in, relieving some of the stress of the situation.

“What’s so funny?” Kerry asked, as she paused in the doorway.

“Don’t ask.” Angie propped up on her elbows. “We were just comparing scandals. What are you two up to?”

Kerry and Dar entered the room. Kerry took a seat on the wooden side chair, and Dar merely lowered herself to the carpet, extended her long legs out, and crossed her ankles. “I was giving Dar the tour. She didn’t get to see much last time. What scandal did you get into now, Michael?”

“I got a tattoo,” Michael admitted.

Dar snorted and folded her arms over her chest. Kerry just rolled her eyes. “Oh, God, it figures. How drunk were you?”

“Maybe I wasn’t,” Mike retorted in an injured tone. “Maybe I just decided it was something I wanted to do for personal growth.”

Kerry studied him, her fair head cocked, then she smiled. “No way, Mikey. You’re the biggest chickenshit I know when it comes to pain. You were either drunk off your butt or unconscious.”

Mike scowled, then stuck his tongue out at her. “You’re just jealous because you don’t have one.”

112 Melissa Good Kerry’s green eyes twinkled. “How do you know I don’t? You haven’t seen all of me in a very long time.”

Mike looked at Angie, who looked back at him, then they both looked uncertainly at their older sister.

“I have.” Dar came to their rescue. “Every square inch, and she doesn’t.” Kerry blushed a deep crimson, making her fair eyebrows stand out vividly. Everyone laughed, and even Dar chuckled at her lover’s loss of composure.

“Stop that.” Kerry covered her face with one hand and rubbed her skin. “Dar, you’re so bad.”

“Well, you don’t,” Dar said matter-of-factly.

“Wanna see mine?” Mike asked, to distract everyone.

“No,” Dar replied. “Based on what I know about you, I can make a guess where it is, and that window’s got a clear shot to the street.”

Angie burst out laughing, holding her stomach as she rolled over. Kerry joined in, pointing at Michael’s injured expression.

“She’s right, isn’t she?”

Michael stuck his tongue out again. “You guys are such girls.”

Dar pulled her collar away from her body and glanced inside her shirt, then nodded. “Guilty.”

Now the laughter turned a little giddy, mixing amusement with relief and not a small touch of bittersweet-ness. It finally petered out, and Kerry wiped her eyes with her sleeve and regarded her siblings.

“Sorry I lost it before,” she said. “I know you guys were trying to keep things under control.”

“That’s okay.” Angie rolled over onto her side and exhaled.

“After you left, we both did too. I’m just so over it. Mike’s just so over it. We’ve had enough of all the political garbage, and we just want our sister back.”

It caught Kerry by surprise, and she gave them a stunned look, her face going very still for a long moment. Finally she released a breath and rested her elbows on her knees. “I’d like that too. I never meant to hurt either of you.”

Angie got up and went to Kerry’s side. Dar remained very still, just watching. “Kerry, you never did. If you did anything, you helped us both realize there was another way to live.” She put a hand on Kerry’s arm. “You always were our ringleader.”

“Yeah.” Mike scrambled to them and stepped carefully over Dar’s legs. “We love you.”

Dar smiled from her spot on the carpet. Kerry’s siblings were surpassing her expectations of them, and she was silently delighted at the look of surprised pleasure on her lover’s face. She Thicker Than Water 113

was glad, now, that Kerry had changed her mind, though Dar would have supported her either way. This was better. Kerry needed this.

Now, if she could just figure out a way to prevent the rest of the Stuart family from ruining it.

THEY TROOPED UP to the attic together. Mike opened an unobtrusive door set in a small alcove, and they walked up the heavy wooden stairs.

Dar listened to the door close behind her, and she exhaled, shifting her shoulders nervously before she followed Kerry. The stairwell was very narrow, and her shoulders only just fit in the space. The closeness made her uncomfortable, and she suspected Kerry realized that, because halfway up, a hand reached back and she took it and felt the comfort of Kerry’s fingers curling around her own.

That was good, because the ceiling came down rather close to her head, and by the time they climbed up and out into the vaulted attic space, Dar was twitching. It was far more open, though, and she relaxed a little. It was warm—the heat from the house clustered up there despite the chill outdoors, and the eclec-tic nature of the place quickly drew her interest.

There were steamer trunks pushed against three of the four walls, and stacks of neatly bagged bedding and clothing. Two old rocking chairs sat peacefully in the corner, and there were con-tainers of unknown items scattered around here and there. Dar had no idea why Kerry had wanted to go up there, especially after their footsteps stirred up a mild cloud of dust and they all sneezed, but she was willing to go along with it for a while.

“We stuck them here.” Mike dragged one of the larger trunks out into the middle of the floor and knelt in front of it. He dialed the combination lock and threw the top open. “All of Kerry’s stuff that Angie and I could find around the house before the thought police came through.”

Ah. Dar’s ears perked up and she slipped around Kerry to investigate the trunk. “What have we here?”

“Hm. Good question.” Kerry scuttled to the trunk and knelt beside it. “Think I can just have this whole trunk shipped?”

Dar pulled out a pair of very old, yellow, obviously well worn footy pajamas that featured a threadbare cotton tail on the back. She grinned at Kerry, who was making a face at them, and pulled out her cell phone, flipped it open, and keyed in the memory. “FedEx? I’d like to schedule a pick-up.”

“Oh, my God.” Kerry covered her eyes. “Of all the things for 114 Melissa Good you to save.”

Angie snickered. “You know something? It was worth it, just to see your face right now.”

“Dar, give me that.” Kerry reached for the rags, but Dar lifted them up beyond her reach. “Dar!”

“Shh.” Dar finished giving the address to the operator, then folded her phone shut. “These are…um,” she lowered the pajamas to eye level, “cute.” She examined the fluffy tail in the back.

“Wanna model them?”

“Augh.” Kerry lunged across the trunk and snatched the old things out of Dar’s hands. “I haven’t worn those since I was six, thanks.” She tucked the fabric under her arm for safekeeping, then warily explored the top layer of the trunk. “Oh, God, Angie…”

She lifted out a photo album. “I was wondering if you snagged this.”

Dar settled at Kerry’s side and peered at the book with interest. It was leather bound and age creased. Kerry opened the cover.

Angie and Mike also inched closer, and sat cross legged on the floor at her side.

“Oo.” Dar laid a long finger on the page. “I like that one.”

“Dar.” Kerry had to smother a chuckle. “That hoary, old baby-on-the-bearskin picture?” She eyed her naked infant self, sprawled over some fuzzy fabric and staring up at the camera with a look best described as astonished. “Can you believe that’s me?”

Dar examined the picture. “Sure. Parts of you haven’t change a bfwh.” Kerry covered Dar’s mouth with her hand as Angie and Michael started cackling.

“You are so dead,” Kerry said. “You just wait, Paladar. I’m going to…to…to…yow!” Kerry pulled her hand away from the nibbling teeth and exploring tongue. “Stop that!” She grabbed Dar’s tongue and pulled.

Angie almost hurt herself as she rolled onto the floor, narrowly missing the edge of the trunk. “Oh, my God,” she gasped.

“You guys are too much.”

Dar retrieved her appendage and returned it to its normal location. Then she grinned, looking into Kerry’s eyes, getting the hoped for tiny crinkle above the bridge of her nose and the faint smirk that meant her lover really wasn’t as annoyed as she sounded.

What’s gotten into her today? Kerry wondered silently. Being so demonstrative in the company of others was definitely not normal for her usually far more reserved partner. Dar would, on occasion, put a hand on her back or ruffle her hair, but never did she indulge in the kind of extremely personal horseplay she was dis-Thicker Than Water 115

playing that morning.

So, since she was, there was a reason. Kerry knew Dar well enough to know that. Very, very seldom did Dar ever change well ingrained patterns without a solid, logical thought path behind it.

Kerry glanced at her siblings, who were much more relaxed, and joking with Dar about the rest of the pictures on the page, daring her to guess which of them each one represented.

The realization clicked for Kerry. Acceptance. That’s why Dar was acting the way she was, because she knew it would make Kerry feel better if her family liked Dar. So Angie and Mike were getting the cute, mischievous side of her lover that very few people ever saw.

Kerry was touched. She lightly scratched the back of Dar’s neck and smiled into the inquiring pale blue eyes that turned her way. “Thanks,” she mouthed.

Dar winked at her, then went back to studying the photographs. “Hey, there you are on a pony.”

“Oh, yes.” Kerry nodded, leaning over the book. “Tympani.”

She put a fingertip on the picture. “What a little bastard he was.”

“Remember the time he bit Mike?” Angie said. “Nastiest temper I ever did see on a horse.”

“Pony. Maybe he had a short horse complex,” Dar added with a straight face. The others snickered and Kerry poked her in outrage. “Friends of ours down south had some horses when I was younger. It was always the little ones that were hell on four hooves.”

Angie relaxed onto her side. “Did you ride, Dar?”

“Sure.” Dar nodded. “We used to take three or four of them and just go on campouts in the Glades in the winter. Catch our own food, make our own shelter, that kind of thing.”

Mike goggled at her. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Like, hunting, and all that?” Angie asked.

“Yep,” Dar said. “Of course, now that I’ve learned where the supermarket is, you won’t catch me doing that again.”

They all laughed. “Yeah.” Kerry combed her fingers through Dar’s hair. “Dar and I both agree the only camping we’ll do is from the inside of an air-conditioned RV.”

“With a satellite hookup,” Dar amended. “Which reminds me, the sat company called before we left. The system for the cabin’s in stock.”

“Cabin?” Angie asked.

Kerry told them about the cabin. “It’s a little place down in the Keys. Pretty run down, but Dar and I have been doing it all over on the odd weekend. It’s cute. And very peaceful. We can 116 Melissa Good pull the boat right up to a dock nearby, and it’s getting to be pretty cozy.”

“Wow.” Angie sighed. “That sounds nice. Richard was talking about us getting a place up by the lake to take the kids, but…”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“The tough part was getting a dedicated pipe in there,” Dar said. “The phone company was scratching their heads for weeks over that one. But we got it done.” She paused. “You guys’ll have to come down and help us christen it.”

The stairs creaked and they looked at the door as it opened, revealing Cynthia Stuart framed in the doorway. “My goodness, it’s dusty up here. I must have a word with the staff.” She continued on into the attic, walking carefully on the wooden floor.

“What’s going on up here?”

Kerry indicated the album. “I was just showing Dar some of my baby pictures.”

“Gracious, how did they end up here?” Cynthia asked in astonishment.

“I put them up here,” Angie answered. “When father was looking to burn them.”

There was an awkward silence. “I see.” Cynthia sighed. “I had thought he’d gotten to them before I had and they were gone.

We had a horrible fight about that.” She gave her head a slight shake. “At any rate, I came up to find you, Kerrison, because I asked John to bring your and Dar’s things upstairs.” Cynthia paused, then took a breath. “I thought you might like the corner green room, perhaps.”

Kerry opened her mouth to decline the offer, then stopped, as her memory of the house kicked in. She peered up at her mother in honest surprise. “Um…that would be fine; sure. Hang on.”

Kerry slid a hand down Dar’s side and into her front pocket, and pulled out the car keys. “Here. Our bags are in the trunk.”

“Excellent.” Cynthia had regained her composure, and she took the keys. “Well, perhaps you’ll all come down for lunch. The reverend will be here, and several others of the family who asked to come over early.”

“Sure.” Angie nodded. “Sounds great.”

“Okay,” Mike agreed.

Cynthia gave them all a slight nod and left, closing the door behind her.

All three siblings stared at one another. “Son of a bitch.”

Kerry snorted. “Can you believe that?”

“No.” Angie shook her head. “No way, nu uh, not on this earth. What drugs are they giving our mother?”

“Wowza,” Mike breathed. “Did you score, or what?”

Thicker Than Water 117

Dar gently cleared her throat. “I think I’m missing something here. Someone want to fill me in?”

Mike crawled closer. “She put you guys in the green room.”

“I have uncles and aunts who never got in there,” Angie added. “For years.”

Dar looked at Kerry. “And?” Her eyebrows rose.

Kerry actually smirked. “It has only one bed. It’s where they put the honored, very married members of our family when they visit.” She still felt a sense of shock and amazement. “You have no idea what a big deal that is here.”

Dar absorbed this unexpected but gratifying news. “Does that mean we have to go out and get her a toaster?”

Kerry laughed, then got lost in wonder for a moment, her world suddenly becoming a topsy-turvey place where anything could, and apparently might, happen. “Yeah. I think it does.” She pondered the idea again, then shook her head. “Hey, want to go for a quick walk outside before lunch? I could show you the tree I took a header into once.”

“Sure.” Dar was glad of a reason to get out of the dry heat, even if it was to get into damp chill instead. “I’ll kick it for being so rude.”

Kerry closed the album and held out her hand. “You’re on.”

She gave her siblings a look. “You guys, too?”

“We’re in.” Angie and Michael got up.

“Lead on, sis,” Angie added. “We’re right behind you.”