Thicker Than Water - DK5 (22 page)

“Edgar,” Cynthia frowned, “this really is none of your business. If I choose to—”

“Cynthia, it is my business,” Edgar said flatly. “Roger was my brother, and you know how he felt about that woman and the godforsaken way she chooses to live.”

“Yes.” Cynthia sighed. “I am well aware of how he felt.”

“Then how could you?” Edgar asked. “How could you invite her in here, push her in all our faces, when we all know how he felt, how that ate at him. Good Lord, Cynthia, what the hell’s wrong with you?”

“Edgar, listen to me.” Cynthia was upset. “I know you have strong feelings, but—”

“Strong?” Edgar’s voice rose. “No, you don’t understand. I hate her. I hate her and everything she stands for, and I hate what she did to this family and to my brother.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cynthia snapped back. “You don’t nearly know the truth of that.” She stepped closer. “Do you think Kerrison simply decided to turn against Roger for no reason?”

“There is
no
reason that can explain what she did.”

“Yes, there is.” A quiet voice interrupted them. Both turned to see Kerry standing there, watching them with wary green eyes.

“But you know what? I don’t owe you any explanations.”

“Kerrison,” Cynthia put up a pacifying hand, “please, let me handle this. I’m sure—”

“Mother, this has to stop somewhere.” Kerry looked her uncle in the eye. “What is it you want from me, Uncle Edgar?”

Edgar stared at her, his nostrils flaring. “I want you to go to Hell,” he said softly and bitterly.

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“Edgar!”

“It’s all right, mother,” Kerry replied softly. “Uncle, tell me something. Do you want me to burn in Hell for exposing my father’s illegal activities to the press, or because I’m gay?” She held his eyes, her body shaking inside and her guts churning. Part of her regretted asking Dar to stay behind, but she knew she had to face this, one way or the other.

A flicker of indecision crossed his face, then his jaw firmed.

“You’re a disgrace to this family and an abomination in the eyes of God!” he yelled, then turned, walked down the stairs, crossed the foyer, and exited into the study.

Kerry released the breath she’d been holding, and relaxed her shoulders.

“Kerrison...” Cynthia lifted a hand, then let it fall.

“There’s nothing you can say,” Kerry said. “I’m sure there’ll be a lot more people here tonight that feel that way.” She looked at her mother. “But you know what? I don’t care.” She drew in a breath. “I can’t change what I did, and I can’t change who I am.”

Cynthia hesitated, then twitched Kerry’s sleeve straight.

“This is so difficult. I wish I had a simple answer to this quite horrible situation, Kerrison. But I will tell you that despite how hard it has been, I’m very glad you decided to come here.” Her eyes intently searched Kerry’s face.

Kerry blinked, then gazed at the railing on which her hand was resting. “It…wasn’t an easy choice.” Her voice was a little husky. “I didn’t really want to face this.” Now she looked up.

“But you’re my family. I can’t change that, either.”

Cynthia pursed her lips and shook her head a little. “We should sit down and talk. I think that’s been sadly lacking in this entire situation.”

The doorbell rang. “Guess that’s the start of it.”

Cynthia sighed. “I suppose it is. I was hoping…” She let the thought die away. “Perhaps after the reception we can speak further.”

“Sure,” Kerry said quietly, knowing it would never happen.

“I’ll go change.” She turned and went back up the stairs, deeply immersed in sober thoughts. She rounded the last bend before the landing and crashed into Dar. “Oh!”

Mild blue eyes regarded her as Dar steadied her with a quick grip.

“Thought I told you to stay behind,” Kerry murmured.

“I did. You just didn’t specify
how
far behind I had to stay.”

Giving Kerry an unrepentant look, Dar indicated the staircase.

“That jackass was lucky he decided to give up and leave.”

“Dar, don’t you think I can handle my own family?” Kerry 130
Melissa Good
asked with a touch of annoyance.

“No,” Dar replied calmly. “I couldn’t handle mine and needed your help.” She laid a finger on the tip of Kerry’s nose.

“Don’t think I didn’t hear you at my grandmother’s funeral, making sure they all knew how their poor ragamuffin relative from down South had made good.”

Kerry smiled faintly at the memory. “That’s true.” She relaxed a bit. “C’mon, we’d better get dressed for this thing. People are starting to show up.”

Dar circled Kerry’s shoulders with one long arm as they went back to the green room. “You were the main reason my father decided to ask me to help him recontact Mom; you know that, right? And if I recall, a certain drawing exhibition…”

“Okay.” Kerry held up a hand. “I get the point, Dar.” She gave her a quiet look. “I guess I’m quite the little meddler, aren’t I?”

“Yep.” Dar pushed the door open and stood aside for Kerry to enter. “So don’t you dare give me a hard time for doing the same thing.” She followed Kerry inside and closed the door. “Speaking of which, let’s talk strategy.”

Kerry paused with her hand on her bag and turned. “Strategy?” She unzipped the bag and removed her dark suit. “For what?”

The room was darkened by the weather outside; only two lamps shed butter colored light across the room, and it splashed over Dar as she walked to Kerry. “What’s your goal here, Kerry?

What outcome do you want this evening to have, when it’s all over? Is this where you tell your family to kiss your ass, or do you want to try to mend fences?”

Kerry blinked at her in total bewilderment. “Dar, what are you talking about?”

“Think,” Dar replied, as she laid a hand on Kerry’s cheek.

“Everyone has their opinion of who you are. Do you want to change that?” There was only silence as Dar watched thoughts chase themselves across Kerry’s expressive face. “Are you proud of who you are?”

Blonde lashes flickered. “I don’t know.” Kerry inhaled. “I should be, shouldn’t I?”

Dar gazed intently into her eyes, allowing her own powerful personality to surge to the surface. “You have to believe in yourself before you can get anyone else to buy into that. And yes, you should be very proud of who you are.” A faint smile curved her lips. “I know I am.”

Kerry’s eyes filled with tears and they spilled down her cheeks as she blinked. For a moment, she felt very alone, as
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though she were standing on a bridge high out over chill waters.

There was no safe place around her, only harsh, buffeting winds, and if she closed her eyes, she could almost feel the swaying. It was frightening. She knew Dar was waiting for her on the other side of the bridge, but this was something she could only do by herself, a decision she had to make alone.

But there really isn’t a choice, is there?
Kerry realized. She considered her accomplishments, both personal and professional over the previous year, and felt a sense of wondering satisfaction settle over her. With steady confidence, she traversed the bridge and crossed over it, leaving her childhood behind her to enter a newly burnished realization of her own reality.

Dar watched intently as Kerry’s eyes opened, a misty green still watery with tears that nevertheless met hers with startling clarity.

“What I want is for my family to understand that my life is exactly how I want it to be.” Kerry took Dar’s hand and ran her fingers over the strong bones and tensing muscles within it. “And I am very proud of who
we
are.”

Dar kissed her, but remained silent, savoring the sweetness of the moment.

SHE COULD HEAR the murmur of voices, a low wash of sound that mixed soft clinks and footsteps. It sent a wave of familiarity over her, bringing up memories of growing up in this house and hearing those sounds so very often. Kerry soberly regarded her reflection in the mirror. Her charcoal gray, wool suit jacket fitted precisely across her shoulders and draped over the slightly lighter silk dress. She wore her hair clipped back into a knot, and had on only a sober dusting of makeup. “You doing okay?” Her eyes lifted to the mirror, and watched Dar’s reflection in it as she walked to her.

“I’m fine.” Dar eased her collarless black silk jacket over a simple yet elegant dark bronze sheath. The jacket covered the ugly bruising and provided a somber draping to Dar’s tall form.

“Got plenty of drugs in me.” She glanced at Kerry’s profile. “You doing all right?”

Kerry nodded. “I’m fine.” She removed two jade studs from her small kit and inserted one into her right earlobe. “Sounds like a crowd’s finally arrived downstairs.”

“So I hear.” Dar put her own jewelry case on the dresser.

“When you have a chance, it’s tough for me to reach up—could you...?”

Kerry smiled a little. “Sure.” She finished putting in her earrings, opened Dar’s case, and took out the beautiful blue dia-monds that were her favorites. “Sit.” She indicated the low, padded bench. “Make my life easier.”

Dar did as she was asked, stifling a small yawn with her good hand as Kerry moved her hair aside and tilted her head a little.

She felt the warm touch of fingers against her earlobe, then the faint pressure as the posts went through her skin. “I like that dress on you.” She touched the soft fabric that covered Kerry’s hip.

“Thanks,” Kerry murmured, attending to the other ear. “I got it to wear to that executive convention next month in New York.”

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She straightened and observed her work. “Those are so pretty.”

“Should be, for what they cost,” Dar said, jokingly. “Mind getting that necklace, too?”

Kerry fished in the bag and drew out the glittering crystal on its golden chain, then opened the catch and fastened it around Dar’s neck. It matched the one already around her own neck and, with a tiny grin, she settled it into its spot above the hollow in Dar’s throat. “Are we ready?”

Dar tilted her head and peered up. Kerry’s face was grave but composed, and there was a peace about her that had been sorely missing for several days. “I think we are.” She stood up and twitched her jacket straight. “Let’s go.”

They met Angie and Richard on the stairs, and walked down together. Richard had on a dark suit, and Angie had chosen a simple, dark gray dress. Dar was the last on the stairs and had the best view of what waited below. There was a small crowd in the foyer, men mostly, with a few women, and a local television reporter. As they descended they were spotted, and Dar watched the reactions.

Interesting.
Eyes fastened on her, and she coolly returned the stares. The television reporter broke off his speech with an older man and turned and hurried in their direction. “Here we go,” Dar murmured, giving Kerry’s back a tiny scratch.

Kerry’s shoulder blades shifted and she stiffened as they reached the foot of the stairs and were met by both the reporter and the stares of the gathered crowd. As she expected, the reporter made a beeline for her, and she met his eyes steadily as he advanced.

“Ms. Stuart?” The man seemed a little more excited than the situation warranted. “Can I get a word with you?”

Kerry sighed inwardly. “Sure.” She stepped to one side and allowed the others to move on. Dar, naturally, didn’t. Angie gave her a sympathetic look as she edged past. “What can I help you with?”

The man glanced at a piece of paper, then obviously organized his thoughts. He lifted his eyes and started to speak, then paused, his gaze drifting up and a little to the left. He blinked, then cleared his throat. “Ah…I know this is a very sad occasion, Ms. Stuart, but there are many people who are surprised to see you here.”

“Really?” Kerry asked. “Why? My father died yesterday. Did you really think politics could interfere with my being here for my mother and my family?”

The camerawoman edged around, getting a better shot. It gave the reporter a moment to regroup. “Ms. Stuart, we’re aware 134
Melissa Good
that there have been some strained relations with your family, and—”

“And?” Kerry cut him off again with genteel politeness.

Another shift of his gaze up and to the left. “And…ah…I’m…I mean, it’s good to see the family giving each other support during this horrible tragedy.”

“Thank you.” Kerry rewarded him with a warm smile. “It’s been a very difficult few days. Now, if you’ll excuse us?”

“Uh…sure.” The reporter backed off, with a nervous glance behind Kerry. “Thanks for speaking with us.”

Kerry smiled and ducked around the camera. She waited until they were halfway across the foyer and almost to the large reception room before she paused and lowered her voice as Dar drew even with her. “What were you doing to him?”

“Me?” Dar’s low, musical voice asked. “Nothing. Why?”

Kerry just gave her a look. “I can’t wait to see this on the eleven o clock news.” She glanced ahead and saw several of her extended family near the door to the reception room, and the coldness of their stares was almost a physical blow. She squared her shoulders. “C’mon.”

Angie spotted them as they cleared the door and she hurried to them. “Hey, that didn’t take long.” She latched on to Kerry’s arm and steered her away from the hostile crowd. “Mom’s over there.” She pointed to their mother, flanked by two aides, with a short, stocky older man opposite her. “Chatting with the governor. I think she could use some support.”

“Sure,” Kerry replied. “Aunt Mary looks like she wants to spit nails at me anyway.” She gave her aunt, a chubby woman dressed in unflattering black crepe, a smile, which wasn’t returned. “You’d think she hadn’t spent the last twenty years telling everyone what a bastard our father was.”

“Mm.” Angie snorted softly. “Or that she’d been a flower child who burned her bra and voted Democratic just to spite the family.”

“Hm,” Kerry said. “I wonder if that look’s for my lifestyle or the company I work for, then. Maybe I’ve got her staring daggers all wrong. She’s been fighting big business since the Stone Age.”

Dar chuckled softly.