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…”