Melissa Good - Tropical Storm

“Easy.” Dar laughed, patting her side. “Yeah, I’m glad to see you too, girl.” She leaned back against the washing machine and sighed, letting puppies run all over her legs. Well, if she couldn’t be with Kerry, this wasn’t a bad second choice. Outside, the wind was howling, and branches thumped against the roof, but she just grinned over at Jack and inclined her head towards the living room. “You up for a fire?”

Tropical Storm 399

He grinned back and reached a hand over to help her up. “Can you still split a log like you used to?”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Dar replied as she headed up the steps, carefully shedding puppies as she went.

KERRY YAWNED AS she woke up, letting her eyes scan the quiet room, and taking in her sister’s sleeping form with a tiny smile. Dawn was just breaking outside, and the first tendrils of pinkish gray were barely visible between the trees in the backyard.

She lay there for a moment, then decided she wasn’t going to get back to sleep and slipped out from under the covers, padding across the carpeted floor and kneeling in front of her duffel bag. Her body felt a little antsy, and she decided a quick run around the lake wouldn’t be a bad idea. So she pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt over a thick T-shirt, and tugged on her sneakers. Running hadn’t been a favorite activity of hers, but lately, since she’d been joining Dar when she stayed over at the island, and Dar had coaxed her out on nighttime runs at her apartment, she’d developed a taste for it. Or so she told herself. At any rate, it didn’t require any special equipment, and it was comfortably neutral in that it was something both men and women regularly did. “Not a stereotypical gay tip-off,” Dar had said wryly.

She walked quietly down the stairs and to the back door, hearing only the faint stirrings of someone working in the kitchen. She undid the latch and slipped out, sucking in a breath as the cold morning air hit her. “Whoa, boy,”

she muttered, stretching quickly, before she broke into a light jog and headed for the path. “Better warm up fast.” The path was a well-kept gravel one, and she found it with no problem, her feet settling into a familiar, easy rhythm as she allowed her body to wake up. The cold air made her blink a little at first, but she got used to it and took in a lungful as she reached the turn that would take her around the perimeter of the small lake.

It was quiet. She was the only one out here at this hour, and her footsteps against the gravel seemed echoingly loud to her. No sounds but the wind itself reached her, and she realized she’d become so accustomed to Miami’s verdant fauna that the absence of birds and crickets seemed odd and strange to her. She thought about Bob the Duck as she let her strides move her down the lakeside. Bob was an old friend who lived in the drainage canal near her apartment. On summer nights, she often ended up gazing over the black, rippling water, and often as not, Bob would come find her.

She’d taken to keeping bread crusts in her pockets for the old white duck, and on many nights, she’d actually sat down, letting the faint breeze cool her from the muggy heat for a while, until the familiar, waddling shape headed her way. Kerry smiled as she thought of him, remembering the suspicious look he’d given Dar when she’d brought her new friend over to meet her old Tropical Storm 401

one. It had taken ten minutes or so before Bob had grudgingly come over, waggling his tail at the taller woman and quacking a protest to her.

Her breath appeared as a steady, visible stream, and she glanced around, wishing her running companion was with her. She’d had to really push herself to keep up with Dar, since as much as she kidded the taller woman about her love of chocolate and other sinful indulgences, Dar really was in good shape. It showed in the effortlessness of her running, and her ability to add little interesting additions to her morning workout. Like juggling. She’d hardly believed it when she’d first seen Dar scoop up three rocks, then, while they were running around the island, juggle them neatly as she went. She said it developed balance and coordination, and made your upper body work too, when running mostly just did things to your legs and lower body.

Juggling. Jesus. Kerry was positive she’d fall right on her face if she even tried it. She continued on around the lake, going downhill, then rounding the back end and heading back up hill again. That part, she acknowledged, she missed in Miami, where the only hills were freeway overpasses. She could feel the strain in her thighs and calves, but she kept on, pushing through the tightness like Dar had taught her.

It was a two-mile circuit, and she was glad to see the house at the end of it when she made it back up to the top of the hill, her breath coming hard and the sweat standing out against her skin. The sun was up by now, and she slowed to a walk as she hit the path up towards the kitchen door, pacing herself and trying to catch her breath. Dar had said stamina would come to her after a while, and she felt satisfied with the effort as she climbed up the steps and into the yard.

Stopping short at the tall, casual figure waiting there, silver hair outlined in the dawn light. Kerry sucked in a breath. “Morning, Kyle,” she said warily.

“Well, well.” Kyle pushed away from the post he’d been leaning on and walked over to her. “Don’t we look dewy.” He chuckled. “Becoming the regular little athlete, aren’t you?”

Kerry stared at him evenly. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Wouldn’t you?” Kyle inquired lazily, wiping a finger through the sweat on her cheek. “I don’t know, you join a gym, start taking karate lessons. Now this, makes me wonder.” His eyes raked her. “Not very ladylike.”

“Ladies can be physically fit,” Kerry commented softly. “And I don’t think it’s any of your concern, Kyle.”

He studied her. “You’d be surprised at what’s my concern, girl,” he replied easily. “Especially when it has to do with my future niece. Got me?”

Kerry’s green eyes narrowed. “I think you’re overstepping your bounds, Kyle.”

“And I think there’s something going on with you that I don’t like, and that your daddy won’t like. It’s going to be wonderful when I find out what that is, Cupcake.” He chucked her under the chin. “Go take a shower. You stink.” He then turned and strolled off, trotting down the stairs and heading out towards the garage.

“Not nearly as badly as you do, asshole,” Kerry enunciated sharply, under her breath. She turned and made her way up the stairs and into the back entrance, where she was spotted by Mary. “Oh. Morning, Mary.”

402 Melissa Good

“Ms. Kerry, g’morning.” The middle-aged black woman nodded at her.

“Were you out running? My goodness, it’s too cold for that, you’re gonna catch your death if you’re not careful.”

Kerry ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s okay, I got warmed up pretty fast.” She smiled at the servant, who had been with their household since Kerry was a child. “Any chance of some muffins?”

Mary looked both ways, then leaned closer. “Well, you know, your mamma told us not to be giving you stuff like that, on account of her thinking it’s bad for you. But I gotta say, Ms. Kerry, you’re looking mighty healthy to me.”

Kerry now looked both ways, then pulled off her sweatshirt and T-shirt, leaving her in her sports bra. She held out her hands. “Do I look like a muffin’s gonna hurt me?”

Mary looked her up and down. “Mmm, mmm. No, ma’am, you don’t. I’ll be getting you that muffin. But, please, put those clothes back on before one of the gentlemen spots you.”

“Thank you.” Kerry smiled and pulled her shirt back on, waiting patiently while Mary disappeared, then reappeared with a small basket.

“Here you go, two hot blueberry muffins, and something to put on ’em.

You go and enjoy yourself.” She handed Kerry the basket and shooed her away.

The blonde woman grinned in triumph and ducked into the hallway, heading for the stairs and trotting up them as Mary watched her.

Elizabeth walked over and nudged her cohort. “What were you looking at?”

“Mmm, mmm, that girl sure grew up nice.” Mary clucked her tongue.

“She is the spawn of the devil pulling off her clothes like that in front of me—

that was one pretty little navel.”

“You old whore.” Liz chuckled deep in her throat.

“Woman, please, I’d like to know who finally talked some sense into her.

Damn good job it was, too.” Mary shook her head. “Best thing she ever did was get out of this house.”

“Hmm. Best for her if she never came back into it,” Liz stated softly as she reached for the tablecloths to fold.

“DID YOU KNOW we could get this stuff twenty-four of twenty-four a day?” Gerald Easton pointed at the screen. “They keep telling me they got a cable channel for everything; now I believe it.” They were watching the Military Channel, a station which showed earnest programs featuring the armed services. “Damnedest thing. Look at that, Dar, they’re selling fatigues like it was the Home Shopping Network.”

Dar stretched her legs out and crossed them, letting her head rest against the couches soft back. “Makes money. Lots of civs collect and use that stuff.

Jesus, eighty-eight bucks for a pair of reg boots?”

“Hmph.” Easton sucked on his pipe and shook his head. “Modern crap.

What in the hell is someone going to do with a case of MREs? I wouldn’t feed those things to Alabaster. She’d bite me right in the, ah…”

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“Leg,” Dar supplied with a dry grin. “Well, we’re between games, Gerry.

It beats watching ‘Pilgrims: Reevaluating the Conquest of America’ again.”

“Communists.” The general snorted. “Fashionable nowadays to see history in the worst light possible.”

Dar muffled a grin and looked up as Jack appeared in the doorway, hefting a football.

“You up for some catch, Dar?” The tall blond man grinned. “Weather cleared, figure we could work up an appetite outside.”

“You bet.” Dar pushed herself to her feet and followed him willingly outside, laughing as Alabaster plowed past them, anxious to escape the tiny teeth of her nine voracious puppies for a little while. She moved across the still damp lawn as the sun filtered down, and took a breath of the cold the wind swept down, pushing aside the little unease in her guts she’d had since mid-morning. Baby, give it a rest, Dar. Just because Kerry didn’t call you twice probably means everything’s fine. She’s out with her family, and maybe even having a good time. “G’wan.”

Jack tossed her the football, which she caught one-handed, then examined. “Nice one,” she complimented its owner, noting the scuffing of long use before she wrapped her fingers around the laces and tossed it back.

“So, how’s things with the company?” Jack asked, throwing the ball back to her. “Still running the world behind the scenes?”

Dar caught it and whipped it back, putting a little more arm into the throw. “More or less. You win some, you lose some. It’s been a pretty good year for us this year.”

“Yow.” Jack shook his hand as he caught the football. “Jesus, Dar, you can still put a sting on that thing, you know?”

“Sorry.” Dar grinned.

“Yeah, right.” Jack winged it back. “You ever regret doing that stuff?” he asked offhandedly. “I mean, you know, someone with your skills could make good bucks in the service.”

Dar stopped in mid-throw, and put her hands on her hips, or rather, one hand and one football. “Are you trying to recruit me?”

He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked up through boyish eyebrows. “Who, me?” He laughed sheepishly. “I don’t know, Dar, you always fit into the military world. I was just wondering if you didn’t sometimes think about coming back in.”

Dar juggled the football then threw it back. “Too late for that,” she told him. “I’m too used to giving orders, I’d never last a minute.” It was, she knew, an honest admission. “I’d be telling some five-star to get his starched ass out of the way so I could get to a mainframe and end up scrubbing heads with a brillo pad.”

Jack caught the ball and threw it back. “Just a thought,” he commented.

“Can’t blame me for trying, can you?”

They played for a while longer, then switched to a new game, where one of them would take the ball and try to get past the other. “Tag or tackle?” Jack asked, playfully.