Red Sky At Morning - DK4 (23 page)

“I know.” Kerry closed her eyes as the light changed and Andrew used the opportunity to cross three lanes between four other cars. “I suggested it once.” She paused. “Only because I worry about her cholesterol, and mine; but I got a lecture about cows, and water, and the fact that if she wanted to drink white chlorinated liquid, she’d just add food coloring to the tap.”

Andrew snorted. “She’s particular ’bout a few things. That’s one of

’em,” he admitted. “Got that one from me, I do believe.”

“Gee, what a surprise.” Kerry peeked at him and grinned tolerantly. “Anyway, I got her to stop having chocolate chip cookies for breakfast, so I figure I’m ahead of the game.”

Andrew peered through the raindrops and spotted his target. He aimed the truck toward the entrance and proceeded accordingly. “She’s a healthy kid,” he stated. “Always was. Worst thing she ever did get was them chicken pox. Lord, that was a mess.”

“I heard you got them, too.” Kerry smiled at him, pretending she didn’t see the truck bearing down on them as Andrew crossed the intersection. The pickup darted into the parking lot of the Lexus dealership just in time, though she imagined she could feel the draft of the eighteen-wheeler crossing behind them. They pulled into an empty spot, and she released her safety belt with a sense of relief.

Andrew leaned on his steering wheel and peered out the window, observing the rows of shiny, if rain spattered, new cars. “You getting one of these damn things, too?” His voice was surprised.

“Sort of.” Kerry pointed. “See? That’s the one Dar has.”

“Uh-huh.” Andrew nodded.

“That’s the one I’m getting.” She indicated a row to the left.

“Sonofabiscuit. Ain’t that cute,” her father-in-law chuckled softly.

“All bitty and spunky looking. Figures.”

Kerry gave his arm a poke. “Hey, at least it’s not a Beetle.” She opened the door. “C’mon, this won’t take long, and I’m hungry.” She got out and grabbed for the doorframe as a wave of dizziness passed over her. “Whoa.”

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Andrew circled the front of the truck and put a hand on her shoulder. “You all right?”

Kerry leaned against the metal frame and took a deep breath, waiting for the world to stop spinning. “Yeah. Like a doof I skipped lunch, and I know better.” Her vision cleared and she shook her head.

“Low blood sugar runs in my family. I usually keep granola bars around but I ran out, and I meant to stop this morning.”

“That ain’t a good thing.” Andrew stuck his head inside the truck and rummaged in a bag behind the seat. “Here.” He handed Kerry a banana. “Forgot I had those damn things.”

Kerry peeled the fruit and took a bite, a little disturbed by the shaking of her hands. “Maybe I was just overstressed today,” she joked faintly, aware of Andrew’s concerned expression. “I had some really confrontational meetings, and I was a little worried about Dar driving down there in this weather.” She swallowed a few mouthfuls and was relieved when the shakiness faded.

“I do believe we might need to be worrying about you,” Andrew stated. “You’re white as Caesar’s ghost, Kerry. Sit down here.”

“No, it’s okay,” Kerry reassured him. “I feel a lot better, honestly.”

She finished her banana and neatly folded the skin, then leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Dad.”

Andrew blushed, faintly visible in the lamplight bathing them.

“That was a lotta fuss for a little old banana,” he muttered. “You sure you don’t want something else? Maybe an orange, or whatever the hell else Ceci stuck in the back of this here truck?”

Kerry smiled. “Does Dar know how lucky she is?”

“Huh?”

“I don’t think she does.” Kerry pushed away from the truck and straightened her sleeves, then tossed the banana peel into a nearby garbage can. “Let’s go get my new wheels.” She slid her hand around Andrew’s arm and walked with him toward the showroom, where she could see dim forms of hopeful salesmen lurking in wait.

The door opened as they reached it, and she stepped inside the cool, well-lit showroom to be greeted by a very nice-looking young man in a neatly fitted suit and tie. “Hi.” Kerry smiled at him. “I’ve got an appointment. I’m supposed to pick up a car?”

The sound of staccato heels made their heads turn to see a woman with dark, frosted hair walking toward them, a warm smile on her face.

“Ms. Stuart?”

“That’s right,” Kerry replied.

“Excellent. If you’d step over here to my desk and sign these papers, I’ll have your car brought ’round.” She glanced at Andrew.

“Can I get your husband some coffee?”

Kerry thought her father-in-law’s grizzled eyebrows were going to pop right off his head and stick in the drop ceiling. “Sure,” she agreed cheerfully. “C’mon, honey, sit down here.”

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“Excuse me,” Andrew barked. “This here young lady is not mah wife.” He pinned the saleswoman with a fierce glare. “What do ah look like to you, some kinda candy-assed cradle robber?”

The woman’s jaw dropped, and she looked from Kerry to Andrew in bewilderment. “I’m very sorry sir,” she stammered. “I know I shouldn’t assume...I just thought...well, excuse me. I’m very sorry.” She put the papers down. “Ma’am, if you could just sign these?”

“Sure.” Kerry sat down and slid the stack over, picking up a pen.

The saleswoman scurried quickly away.

Andrew snorted and sat down next to her. “Mah God.”

Kerry giggled. “You’re really funny.”

“That was most certainly not funny, young lady.”

She turned her head. “How old are you?” Kerry watched the blue eyes blink a few times. “Well?”

Andrew sat up straighter. “Ah am forty-eight years old.” He paused. “Why?”

Kerry leaned closer to him. “’Cause I’m almost thirty,” she whispered. “It’s not that far-fetched, Dad.” She went back to signing her papers, getting through half of them before she heard Andrew sigh.

“You’re right, kumquat,” he said. “Mah kid has not one clue as to how lucky she is.”

Kerry felt her face ease into a smile as she finished, putting the pen down and glancing up as the saleswoman came back. “All done.”

“Here you go.” The woman handed her a set of keys and pointed to where the shadowy form of her new car was just pulling up outside the door. “And again, I’m really sorry, sir.”

Andrew sighed and stood. “That’s all right.”

They walked to the door and pushed it open. “You going to kick the tires for me, Dad?” Kerry teased. “Dar wanted me to get a—what are those called? A Hummer.”

Andrew snorted. “Fer what?” He circled the new car curiously.

“Damn things steer like a Greyhound bus, and you can’t park them for nothin’.” He opened a door and peeked inside. “Leather, would you look at that? Mah kid is definitely rubbing off on you.”

Kerry opened the driver side door and sniffed appreciatively. “Oh yes,” she chortled. “C’mon, let’s take it for a test ride. There’s a good restaurant right down the block.”

Andrew slid into the passenger seat, which he adjusted to make room for his long legs. “Ain’t one of them raw fish stores, is it?”

“Um...”

A dark brow cocked. “Tell you what, I’ll go eat them raw fishies if you let me drive on the way back.”

“Oh boy.”

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“SONOFABITCH!”

Dar heard the gasping croak behind her as she reached the last wooden wall and lunged forward, crouching down and releasing her body upward to stretch out and grab the top rail, pulling upward before she could crash against the hard surface. Her boots scraped, then caught a purchase, and she powered up and over the top, releasing her hold and letting herself fall down toward a murky, mud-covered surface.

Behind her, she could hear Chuckie grunt as he hit the top of the wall, but then her boots were hitting the ground and she almost sprawled forward, barely catching her balance before she hopped forward and starting running toward the ropes.

Climbing ropes—one of the toughest things for anyone, especially a woman, to do. Dar wiped her palms on her thighs just before she reached them, then took a breath, ruefully acknowledging that she certainly wasn’t a teenager anymore before she leaped and caught the rope, feeling the wet, scratchy hemp bite into her hands. Her legs responded in old memory, curling around the rope beneath her and tightening, supporting her weight as she reached up for a second handhold.

Well.
Dar felt the spatters of rain hit her and heard the clank of the rope next to her as Chuckie tried to catch up. It wasn’t as hard as she had feared. She powered up the rope and released one hand to slap the bell on top, then slid neatly down, wincing a little as the rough hemp stung her hands. She hit the ground and ducked around the edge of the climbing pit, bolting across the uneven ground and leaping over the water that separated the obstacles from the last, long hundred yards every tired, sore recruit had to run over at top speed. Dar heard Chuckie finally hit the bell and slither down after her, but she knew she was home free.

Running was something she was very used to, something her body, stressed by this unusual tasking long forgotten, was accustomed to doing on a daily basis. She tucked her fingers into a half fist, leaned forward into a powerful, even stride, and just ran.

“Shit,” she heard Chuckie groan behind her, and it made her laugh; and the hoots of the other men suddenly rolled around her as they spotted her clearing the end of the pits and heading toward the finish.

She tucked her head down and bolted, feeling a crazy surge of energy as the wind brushed her hair back and the rain stung her face.

The trees that marked the end flashed by, and she slowed, bouncing to a halt and into the welcoming arms of the four waiting sailors, who caught her and slapped her back, laughing and razzing Chuckie, who finally made it past with a curse.

Dar could feel her heart pounding from the exertion, and it certainly hadn’t been nearly as good a performance as the last time she’d done it, but... She chuckled as she watched Chuckie lean over, holding his belly, his face a visible crimson even in the low light. “Gotta
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lay off the damn beer, Chuck.” She put her hands on her hips, glad beyond measure she’d kept up the sessions in the gym, and the running, and the martial arts, if for no other reason than to be able to stand here on this mud-covered patch of ground with a bunch of her old friends and look better than they did.

Erf.
Dar winced.
That was damned egotistical, wasn’t it?

“Hot damn, Dar.” Mike clapped a long arm over her shoulders.

“You are still one hot mother, y’know that? How about marrying me?”

Dar laughed. “I thought you had a girlfriend?” She poked him. “Or at least that’s what you were bragging about in that bar.”

“Well, I didn’t hear you say you was married,” he joked back. “So I figured I got a chance.”

It was a strange feeling. Dar took a breath and released it. She’d been straightforward and out regarding her sexuality for so long, she’d forgotten what it felt like to be around people who had no idea, and to whom it would matter.

To whom it would matter to her if they knew. Dar felt her euphoric mood evaporate, and she took a mental step back and tried to figure out what to do. Her nature disliked unneeded lies, but a part of her was enjoying this unexpected reacceptance into an old world and resisted the estrangement she knew would be caused by acknowledging her lifestyle.

“Asshole. You ain’t got no chance,” Duds snorted. “Dar’s got way better taste than you.”

Dar managed a smile, then she walked over to where Chuckie was still recovering. “Hey.” She bumped him lightly. “You all right?”

Her old boyfriend straightened, then blew out a breath. “Other than having my goddamned ego dragged over a bed of nails and my bank account emptied? I’m great.” His lips twisted. “Will you take a check?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Dar shook her head slightly. “It was worth the kick just to see if I could still do it.”

“Wench.” Chuckie’s face relaxed a little as he realized Dar was serious. “Just for that, you’re gonna take us out to the steakhouse.” He pointed toward the parking lot. “Now that I proved ship captains do spend too much time sitting on their butts, let’s go.”

The four others strolled ahead, leaving Chuckie and Dar to walk together toward the parked cars. “Wench.” The Naval officer gave her a look. “I’m gonna have to explain to half the base tomorrow why I got Band-Aids all over my hands from that damn course.” He held up his hands, visibly scuffed and scraped in the streetlamp light.

“Me, too,” Dar admitted, holding up her own hands in evidence. “I don’t get much in the way of calluses pounding a keyboard.”

“Ah.” Chuckie sighed. “We’re getting too old for this.”

Dar chuckled. “Yeah.” She flexed her hands, wincing a little.

They were both quiet for a few strides. “Ass kicking or not, it’s 126
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good to see you, Dar,” Chuckie finally said softly. “Got some good memories of us.”

“So do I,” Dar replied. “Your letters to me in college used to crack me up.” She reflected on those long past times. “I’m sorry we lost touch.”

Chuckie shrugged one shoulder. “We knew we would. That was two real different worlds we were going off into.” He glanced at Dar. “I knew I didn’t end up doing too bad; always wondered where you ended up. Might have figured you to be some top brass somewhere.”

“I used to wonder if I’d made the right choice.” Dar inhaled, and looked around. “Now I know I did, but...” She shook her head.

“Definitely had second thoughts.” She raised her voice. “Hey, head over to the third row. I’ll drive.”

“Don’t trust Mike?” Chuckie laughed. “He’s not half as bad a driver as your daddy ever was.”

“No. I figure I’m the only one who’s likely to have room for all of us,” she said dryly. “Unless you ended up getting a Suburban. Did you?”

“Hell no,” Chuckie snorted.

“That’s what I thought.” Dar angled her steps toward the Lexus.

“C’mon, I figure it’s going to take my shock absorbers to handle you herd of steers anyway.”