Disclaimers: None.
If you’re still reading my stuff at this point, you pretty well know what
you’re getting into. If you don’t have
an open mind or if you find something you think needs disclaiming, you are
still more than welcome to let me know.
It won’t change anything, but it may make you feel better. Ugliness will earn you a smack to the back
of your head.
Thanks: To
Author’s Notes: This was an idea that occurred to me on an
interminable flight home from
The Storyteller’s Cardinal Rule is in effect.
Aftermath
Sometimes it is easy to see what is right in front
of us – and sometimes the things that should be obvious are the most difficult
to see. This is one such story.
They were enemies from the first – there was
simply no other way to describe them... at least as far as they were
concerned. Always on the opposite side
of every argument. Everything always a
fight... a competition. Nothing was easy
between them.
And why should it be? They were nothing alike... NOTHING. They only thing they seemed to share was a
passion for their work – and even that put them at constant odds with one
another.
One would think – watching them – that they hated
one another... that there was a deep resentment between them. One wealthy and cultured; the other rough and
unpolished. One athletic and strong; the
other graceful and delicate. One hot
tempered by nature; the other cold as ice.
Both brilliant in their own regard; both passionate and sensitive.
Every time they were forced to interact, their
colleagues gathered around to watch the sparks fly and place bets as to who
would give in... who would take the first swing. Not that they had actually come to blows –
YET – but most only believed it was only a matter of time.
Yet neither of them were prepared to give a
quarter – both equally unwilling to be the first to lose their self control.
And so it continued... day in and day out. Then without warning, something drastic
changed.
They no longer argued – they no longer spoke at
all. The animosity most had perceived
between them before became all too real, and the atmosphere in the workplace
became heavy and unwieldy with unresolved tension.
After only a week it had become completely
unbearable - to the point where no one was getting any work done while waiting
for things to explode – their co-workers stepped in and decided to resolve the
problem. That is when things got
interesting.
************
Blue eyes blinked open and looked around
blearily. She couldn’t remember what had
happened the night before, but judging from the pounding going on in the back
of her head,
She didn’t recognize where she was, except that it
was outdoors. The sunlight in her eyes
and the obnoxious cheerfulness of some stupid twittering bird were proof enough
of that. The tickly properties of the
grass she could feel against her face and see if she crossed her eyes, along
with the oddly fresh air were only further evidence that something drastic had
happened.
A low groan pulled her attention from taking
inventory and
She slammed her eyes shut when she moved her head,
breathing deeply to keep from throwing up at the pain screaming through her
skull. Someone was going to die when she
figured out what the hell was going on.
Then she eased her eyes open again... and groaned herself, closing them
once more. Things had just gone from bad to worse.
“I’d blame this on you,” came the mumble from
almost closed lips, “but you look as bad as I feel right now, Bleeding Heart.”
“Still not talking to me,
“Shut up, Miser.
I have enough to deal with here without listening to you whine about
it. Go bother somebody else, why
dontcha? I have no intention of
suffering any more because of you.”
“Take a look around, hotshot. It’s just you and me and a pile of stuff I
have never seen the likes of in any of the stores I shop in.”
“You don’t – that is your whole goddamn
problem. You expect the world to cater
to you. Now shut up before I puke all
over us both.”
Neither woman could have said how much time had
passed – literally. Watches and cell
phones had been removed from their persons.
But it was obvious to both of them that quite some time had passed as
the shadows were much longer than they had been in their little glade even if
there was apparently a portion of daylight left.
They opened their eyes virtually simultaneously
and the walls returned between them as quickly as they realized the truth of
their situation.
She reached for the pile of what she suspected was
camping equipment, only to find a note from her work partner on top. She opened it and read it slowly, then
actually tossed it towards
Guys, (it said)
We’ve had
enough of whatever the hell is wrong with the two of you and decided to take
matters into our own hands and force the issue between you. You’ll find all you need to survive out here
for quite a while and if you follow the map that has been included, you’ll find
food staples left for you every couple days.
If you keep up a steady pace, you should be able to make it out of here
in about a week or so. But do us all a
favor and fix your problems with one another before you return to
civilization. We’d hate to have to do
this again. – Martin
Sara just blinked at the brazenness of the entire
thing. Surely they knew that kidnapping
was against the law – and what about the drugging she was convinced had
happened to them both? Somebody’s ass
was going to be hers when they got back – several somebody’s in fact – and then
they’d find out that this was no practical joke. What would her father say when he heard about
all this?
Simone stomped back into their tiny space and
resumed going through the pile, separating things out and placing them into
smaller piles. Sara watched for a while
before she spoke. “Can I help?”
Simone shrugged.
“I dunno... can you?”
“You are such a bitch.”
"You’d know,” Simone countered and continued
separating. She finally found what she
was looking for at the bottom of the stack – a single, solitary, two-person
tent. She growled. Sara saw what she was glaring at and sighed. Things were definitely worse than she
thought.
Their co-workers had been kind enough to leave a
set of instructions, confident that neither woman had ever been camping
before. Simone opened them up to read
them – only to find that they were written in a language that she had never
seen before. She balled up the paper and
flung it from her in great disgust.
“Just fucking great,” she cursed and threw the
tent aside.
“Careful with that, Bleeder. That’s the only protection we’ve got to sleep
under out here. I have no desire to be
soaking wet when it starts raining.”
“Then you figure out how to put the damn thing
up. I’ll go collect firewood or
something else useful.” She disappeared
back into the underbrush.
Sara got up and found the instructions Simone had
tossed away in her anger – then she understood why. They were written in Mandarin Chinese and while
not many knew she was fluent in the language, there was one notable exception
to that. Things were getting curiouser
and curiouser.
************
Simone came back and dropped a small load of wood
to one side. Then she shook out the
sleeping bags and set them on either side of the stack of wood. The small supply of food they’d been given
went between them. Then Simone turned to
watch Sara wrestle with the instructions, poles and tarp, snickering just
slightly when the blonde woman growled.
“Would you like to help me or would you like to
chance sleeping in the great outdoors with no protection from those clouds?”
pointing to the growing line of darkness creeping up behind Simone.
“Whaddya want me to do?” Simone asked grudgingly.
Sara thought about all the possible responses to
that question before deciding to go with stark truth at the moment. “I can read this,” shaking the crumpled paper
in Simone’s direction, “but I can’t read and build at the same time. I need you to do the building.”
“Of course you do – somebody else has always got
to do your dirty work, don’t they?”
“Look, Simone,” Sara ground out, stopping just
short of stomping her feet. “I know you
don’t like me – I think the entire office is completely clear on that fact. It doesn’t really matter.” She continued
before Simone could interrupt. “What
does matter at this point in time is the fact that we have been set up – very
cleverly, I might add. We have to work
together to make this work at all.”
“Look, Miser,” refusing to call Sara by name. “I’ll work with you only as much as is
necessary to get us out of here and home again.
When we get back, I’ll turn in my resignation and that’ll be the end of
things, all right?”
Sara shrugged.
“Whatever. Can we just get this stupid thing put together before it
starts raining?” At Simone’s brisk nod,
Sara started reading, absently handing the dark-haired woman the correct pieces
and parts. The tent started to take
shape and Simone’s hands were busy trying to keep it together.
Sara took over the last bit, pounding the stakes
in place as Simone brought the sleeping bags in and dropped them inside. A rumble of thunder made her hustle to grab
the rest of the supplies before the rain began falling in earnest. Sara pushed in right behind her, nearly
tumbling them both and the tent to the ground.
Simone glared at her for a moment, then moved to the far corner of the
small tent. She took one sleeping bag
for herself and tossed the other in Sara’s direction.
“Guess we should be thankful they’re not making us
share a sleeping bag as well,” Sarah muttered, but it was loud enough that
Simone heard. The dark head whipped
around and blue eyes bore a hole into green.
“Excuse me?” her voice icy.
“I told you we’d been set up, Bleeder. I’m a little surprised he didn’t go that far
actually; it would certainly have made his point.”
“He who... Martin?
His ass is so gonna be grass when we get home. I even know a couple guys who’ll take care of
the body – no muss... no fuss.”
Sara stared at Simone in disbelief. Then she blinked and shook her head. “No... not Martin. He may have signed the note, but only one
person in the world with the influence to do this also knows I speak Mandarin
fluently. And he is the one who would
benefit most from our learning to work together.” The confused look grew on Simone's face and
she held out her arms impatiently waiting for an answer. Sara sighed.
“My father, Bleeder; he owns the company, remember? My father is the CEO of Wainwright
Industries.”
“Guess he’s in for a real shock when I haul his
ass up on charges before I walk.”
“I guess he is.
Right now I’m not so sure *I* won’t.”
That made Simone snicker. She finished straightening her bed for the
night, then rose and picked up a backpack.
She rifled through it briefly, then threw it to Sara. “I think this is yours,” was her only
comment. Simone snatched up the second
bag and put it by her temporary bed, then picked up the small cooler and set it
between them. “Hope we don’t have to
cook this stuff or we’re gonna be hungry tonight.”
Sara didn’t answer. She was too busy looking at the sealed note
addressed to her in her father’s hand – confirmation in and of itself of what
she had told Simone about who was behind this little kidnapping. At the moment, however, while Sara’s thoughts
were buzzing, Simone didn’t care. She
was still exhausted from whatever machination they had used to get her to this
place. She lay down on her sleeping bag
and was soon snoring softly from the depths of sleep. Sara sat up enough to be sure Simone was
truly sleeping before ripping open the envelope.
Sara, my dearest, (it read)
I am
sorry to have resorted to such extreme measures, but something must be done to
resolve whatever issue has become between you and Simone. Separately, you’re the best we’ve got and
together you’re unstoppable, but lately the two of you are only causing
disharmony and chaos throughout the company to the point that it is disrupting
the work. People are starting to take
sides and I am afraid what will happen if something is not done about the
situation immediately.
Stay
out there until things are resolved between you – one way or another. Do whatever it takes, but fix it, Sara.
There
will be someone close by keeping an eye on you both – to ensure that you remain
safe and that you can be taken care of in an emergency. Otherwise, they will not interfere in any
way. I trust that by the time you are
home, you will have forgiven your old man for such drastic interference. Always your loving father, Billy.
Sara looked at the map he had enclosed and knew in
an instant exactly where they were. She
had spent her summers in this place, investigating every nook and cranny she’d
been allowed to explore. Sara had the
distinct feel by the signature he’d used that William Wainwright the third had
put them somewhere she hadn’t been yet.
A second, more thorough glance confirmed her worst
fears and she closed her eyes briefly.
Screw the charges... she’d kill him for this. Regardless of what happened between now and
then, Sara was going to kill her father for putting them in this position when
it was all over. She figured Simone
would be willing to help once she knew what was going on. Sara dropped her bag down beside her and
closed her eyes again. It wasn’t long
before she joined Simone in slumber.
************
Daylight woke them with a groan again, though at
least this time it wasn’t a drug induced hang-over. It was just bright.
“Goddamn it – I was hoping it was going to be a
dream. This sucks.”
“More than you know, Bleeder... more than you
know.”
Blue eyes only a moment before glazed in sleep
sharpened and glared in Sara’s direction.
“What do you know, Miser?” For
answer, Sara handed over the paper Simone had discovered in her bag the night
before. Simone didn’t quite snatch it
away, but Sara could feel the restraint rolling off her in waves. Simone’s face grew red as she perused the
note. “You have got to be fucking
shitting me. Is the man a moron or just
selectively stupid??”
Despite her own anger at her father for his
actions, Sara felt her ire grow at Simone’s tone. “He is neither. Otherwise he would have settled the problem
himself instead of having us do it ourselves.
He’s a brilliant businessman....”
“... and a lousy father.”
“How dare you?!”
“Easily, but whatever. My opinion of your old man is as irrelevant
as yours here. What we need to do right
now is find those watchers and have them take us home. Then this foolishness will be over with and
we can go our separate ways.”
“You hate me so much.” The statement was flat but Simone could see
something unexpected in the green eyes facing her – something that appeared to
be akin to pain.
“About like you do me, yeah,” she answered with a shrug,
but her eyes didn’t meet Sara’s. “Look,
I’m gonna go outside and see if I can find these clowns. No reason to stay here any longer than we
have to, right?” Simone didn’t wait for
an answer, but clambered out of the tent as quickly as possible.
“But I really don’t hate you,” Sara said to the
still, empty space.
************
Sara had a small fire built and had cleaned up in
the nearby creek by the time Simone returned hot and disheveled. Simone threw herself down on the ground in
disgust.
“He lied,” she accused.
“No... you won’t be able to find them. I doubt they are anywhere close. I’d be willing to bet we are being monitored
electronically and they are some distance away.”
“So we have to play his game until we get back to
civilization.”
“Well, we have to follow the map, yes. I see no
reason for any more conversation or interaction between us than is absolutely
necessary.”
“Agreed,” Simone said, “so let’s get started.”
“Can you cook?”
“Excuse me?”
“Can you...?”
“I heard what you said – why do you need to know?”
“I thought we could decide on a plan of
action. We need to eat and we have to
break down and set up camp if we are going to be moving every day. If we can both cook, then neither of us will get
stuck doing one thing or the other.”
“Yes, I can cook.
You?”
“Actually, yes.”
"All right... since you started the fire,
I'll go ahead and break down the campsite if you want to fix breakfast. I think it might take both of us to do the
setting up, but we can worry about that tonight. There are other chores we can split to even
up the workload," Simone said in a fit of verbosity.
Sara blinked.
That was the longest non-confrontational speech Simone had ever graced
her with. Even as she watched, the blue
eyes which were regarding her coolly grew even colder at her lack of
response. She nodded curtly.
"That's fine.
We only have to make it work long enough to get out of this." She went into the tent and dragged out the
cooler; Simone snatched up the two backpacks and they each grabbed a sleeping
bag to roll up and set aside with the rest.
Then Simone started breaking down the tent while Sara turned her
attention to preparing a substantial breakfast.
Simone discovered that taking the tent apart was a
much simpler proposition than putting it together had been, but that making it
ready for travel was even harder. Still,
she got it packed up and turned to find Sara plating up what looked to be a
respectable breakfast. She accepted a
plate with a murmured thanks and dug in with relish.
Sara took a seat across from Simone and focused on
her own plate. It wasn't the best she'd
ever eaten, but it wasn't the worst by a long shot and she was ravenous.
It only took a few minutes for both of them to clean
their plates. Simone stood from her
place and walked around to where Sara sat looking at her empty plate
forlornly. She extended her hand. "I need to clean up, so I'll wash the
dishes if you want to put out the fire."
Sara nodded her head mutely, then watched Simone
walk out of sight before she doused the small fire carefully and picked up
around the small camp to make sure everything was tidy. Simone came back into camp, hair and face wet
from the scrubbing she had given them.
She placed the wet dishes on top of the small
cooler and removed a small towel from her backpack, wiping them off before
handing one to Sara and putting the other away in her pack with a spoon. She wiped her face off with a dry corner then
looked at the wet towel with a frown.
"Clip it to your backpack – it'll dry as we
walk." Simone looked her question
at Sara and Sara hefted the pack up, offering it to Simone who turned and
extended her arms. She slid under the
weight, then Sara took the towel from her and clipped in onto one of the many
jangling bits Simone had noticed but had no real clue what to do with. She nodded her thanks and snatched up Sara's
pack, returning the courtesy brusquely before retrieving the tent pack.
Sara hefted the cooler, thankful for the strap
that had been included as she slung it over her shoulder and settled it beneath
her backpack. Then she looked at Simone
who was waiting with her arms crossed over her chest. Sara arched a brow in question; Simone threw
her hands up in exasperation.
"You have the map?"
"Shit!
It's in my backpack – can you...?"
Simone sighed but motioned for Sara to turn around. With surprising tenderness to refrain from
upsetting Sara's precarious balance, Simone eased the pack open and removed the
map from inside. She handed it to Sara
over her shoulder, then zipped up the compartment and stepped away from the
other woman.
Sara accepted the paper, biting her lip for a long
moment. Then she pointed. "We need to head east." Simone motioned her ahead with a wave of her
arm. Sara rolled her eyes, but took the
lead.
They didn't speak – there was no need to. It was fairly smooth walking for the first
part of the day and when they stopped for some rest and a bit of lunch, Sara was
pleased with their progress. By mutual
consent, they dropped their gear and ate trail rations, then stretched out for
a short nap.
Simone woke first, stretching slowly to work out
the stiffness she could feel settling in muscles unused to this particular type
of exercise. She twisted, readjusting
her back with a long string of pops. She
grimaced, then jerked her head when Sara spoke, causing yet another crack to
shimmy its way up her neck.
"That sounds painful."
Simone shrugged.
"Nothing I can't handle. You
ready?"
Sara yawned and stretched, then nodded as she
rose. "Yeah. I think if we keep going at this pace, we
should be to our next campsite by late afternoon."
For answer, Simone hefted her pack again, waiting
for Sara to do the same. Then they
headed out again under a truce of silence.
************
Simone and Sara were beyond happy to see the small
campsite William Wainwright had marked on the map. The journey hadn't been difficult, but it had
been long. And since they were unused to
the extra weight they were forced to carry, it made for slow going.
When they reached the cleared spot, they dropped
their gear as quickly as they could manage and groaned as they fell to the
ground. After a moment of complete
stillness, Simone stirred and grabbed up the tent bag, shaking it out and
watching dispassionately as pieces clanged together as they fell to the
ground. Sara didn't even protest, but
started sorting through the pieces. Then
she opened the directions and started reading as she passed Simone the parts
she needed.
In short order, the tent was ready for occupation
and the campsite set-up complete.
"If you are cooking tonight," Sara said,
"I'll go collect the firewood and water we need." Simone nodded her agreement and went to fetch
the small cooler that had been left to mark the spot. She pulled off the cover, surprised to find
salmon fillets wrapped in dry ice along with, of all things, ice cream. Taped to the top was another note and she
debated whether or not to open it or leave it for Sara – since she felt fairly
confident it was meant for her reluctant companion.
She left the note alone and moved the cooler
closer to the tent. Then she started
clearing a circle for a fire pit.
About that time, Sara reemerged from the woods
with an armload of wood. "I know we
need more, but I thought this would get us started. This ready?" waiting for the dark head
to nod and dropping the wood into the cleared pit. Then she crossed to the cooler. "What's this?" lifting the lid
before Simone could answer. Sara
chortled when she saw the ice cream, then she saw the note. "You didn't read this?"
"We both know it's not for me," lighting
the moss she'd packed between the wood she'd stacked and waiting for it to
catch. Then she got up and removed the
salmon from the cooler and moved away, leaving Sara to read her missive in
private.
Sara ripped the envelope carefully and slid the
single sheet of paper from inside.
Dearest Sara, (it read)
I
thought to provide something of a treat for the completion of your first real
day together. You will find dry supplies
for the next couple days hanging in the tree above the cooler, since it is a
rather long hike to the next selected campsite.
Leave the coolers and whatever trash you cannot dispose of there and
someone will be around to collect it after you are both well on your way.
I hope
things are going well between the two of you.
I have high hopes you can settle this like adults quickly – you are
capable of so much together if you'd only try.
Be honest with her, sweetheart.
It will make such a difference.
Trust me – I know. With much love
for you always....
Your old man Billy
Sara folded the letter and put it neatly in the
envelope, though she made a point to leave it on the cooler for Simone if she
chose to read it. Then she left to
collect more firewood.
Simone, however, had decided to get through her
current trial with as little interaction as she could manage and kept her mind
on fixing dinner. She emptied her
canteen and picked up Sara's, shaking it to find it was nearly empty as
well. She started for the small stream,
just as Sara stepped from the brush.
"Hey, I thought that was supposed to be my
job, Bleeder. Don’t want you thinking
I'm not holding up my part of this arrangement," and she placed the wood
beside the small fire.
Simone rolled her eyes and tossed both canteens in
Sara's direction. "Whatever,
Miser. I was thirsty. Figured I'd... you know what? Never mind.
It doesn't matter. I need to find
something to go with dinner."
"Check the tree."
"Huh?"
Sara cut her eyes at Simone before bending down to
pick up the two canteens. "Didn't
you read the note? Check the tree,"
motioning to the larger tree where the cooler had been. Then she stalked off towards the creek.
"No, I didn't read the note... not any of my
damn business, is it?" Simone muttered under her breath. She walked back to the tree and looked
around, spotting it rather easily, although reaching it.... She realized almost immediately that it would
take the two of them working together to retrieve it. Simone plopped down on the ground with her
arms across her chest and stretched her legs out, crossing them at the ankles
and waiting for Sara to return from fetching the water.
After a few minutes, Sara reappeared looking
cooler and freshly scrubbed. She noted
Simone's position and raised an eyebrow.
Simone simply pointed upwards.
Sara followed the direction she indicated and let her shoulders drop and
her chin fall to her chest.
"I'm going to kill him myself. I don't care if he did give us ice
cream." She stomped over to stand
beside Simone who stood languidly to her feet.
Sara cupped her hands together to give Simone a boost. Simone just bit her lip to keep from laughing.
"You've gotta be kidding me." Sara shook her head.
"No – I don't like heights, and he knows you
rock climb at the company gym; so come on and let me give you a boost."
Simone sighed and stepped back a couple
paces. "Ready?" Sara nodded and Simone moved so swiftly, Sara
barely had time to register her weight before Simone was in the tree. Sara watched with her heart in her throat as
Simone lightly moved to the bag and unhooked it, lowering it into Sara's grasp
before sitting on the lowest branch and jumping. Then Simone snagged the bag and took it over
next to the cooler.
"That was unnecessary, you know. I could have managed." Sara waited but Simone didn't even
acknowledge her words. Sara stalked over
and grabbed Simone by the shoulder, jerking until blazing blue eyes were gazing
back at her, the fury in them clear.
Simone pulled out of Sara's grasp roughly.
"Don't do that again," the rage in her
eyes easily conveyed through her tone.
"What the hell is wrong with you??"
"We've been forced to work together by
necessity to get out of this place. That
doesn't mean we have to share conversation or personal space. So, unless it's necessary, just be quiet and
keep your hands to yourself and I'll do the same, all right?"
Sara clenched her jaw, but nodded her head
briskly. "Fine... whatever. What's in the bag?"
Simone didn't throw it at her, which surprised
Sara. Instead she passed it over and
stood up, potatoes in her hands as she headed to the creek. Sara watched her out of sight then turned her
attention back to the bag. A couple
loaves of bread, peanut butter, trail bars, some raw vegetables and a bag of
chocolates. Sara smiled... at least they
wouldn't starve and with the addition of chocolate, they might not even kill
one another before they reached the end of the journey.
Simone returned from the creek, pulling a small
penknife from her pocket and poking holes in the potatoes before easing them
into the heat. Then she grabbed up her
backpack and sleeping bag and went into the tent. Sara listened, not surprised when Simone
emerged a few minutes later bearing clean clothes and her towel. She didn't even glance Sara's way as she made
her way back to the tiny brook. Sara
just sighed and shook her head.
"No, Dad... I don't think being honest is
going to help. I don't thing anything is
going to help this situation except for it to be over."
Then she placed the bag next to the cooler and
moved to set her own things up in the small tent.
************
Dinner had been an almost silent affair, save for
the scrape of utensils on their plates and the courtesies of 'thank you' and
'you're welcome'. Now the campsite was
completely quiet save for the crackle of flames and the whisper of the wind as
it blew through the trees. Sara was
sitting close to the fire, squinting at the map. She didn't know what nitwit had given the
instructions on what to remove from them before they were dropped off, but she
was less than amused by her missing glasses... especially in the less than
perfect light she was forced to use.
Simone, for her part, lay flat on her back looking up at the stars.
Sara glimpsed in her direction – wondering what
she was thinking about and how they had come to have such discord and passivity
between them. At least when they had
been fighting it had been fiery and passionate.
Surely that had been better than the uneasy truce of nothingness they
had now. She sighed loudly and Simone's
head turned in her direction. Sara
rubbed her eyes and shook her head.
"Problem?" Simone asked carefully. Her
voice was completely neutral, betraying neither concern nor antagonism in her
tone.
Sara shrugged.
"My eyes hurt. The idiot who
took all our stuff also took my glasses for some reason. Guess we're lucky he left you your
penknife."
Simone leaned up on her elbows. "I'll bet that reason has something to
do with this," motioning around their little home away from home. "What better way...."
"... to force us to work together again. Damn!"
Sara rubbed her eyes again and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You know the sucky part – I only use
them to read with. It's this
light...."
"Is it important?" gesturing to the
paper Sara still held.
"It can wait to daylight, I suppose,"
but she trailed off when Simone lay back down and resumed her study of the
stars as though the conversation was over.
Sara decided to take a page from Simone's book and just enjoy the
peace. Real life was usually so hectic
that she couldn't remember the last time she'd *seen* the stars... much less
*appreciated* them.
Silence reigned but for a change it was
comfortable between them.
************
The next two days passed in similar fashion – the
first day taking them out of the treed area and into rockier terrain. It was more treacherous and made for much
slower going. Still it didn't require a
good deal of communication, so despite William Wainwright's machinations,
things remained mostly status quo between them.
They were happy to find the campsite by the time
they reached it sometime late that second afternoon. By Sara's best estimate, they were close to
halfway to the end and nothing had changed.
Simone was still touchy and reactive and Sara was knee-jerk in her
responses in return. Their truce was
unstable at best, but it seemed to be holding for the moment, which was all
either could hope for given the peculiarity of their current situation.
At least the lack of words meant fewer arguments
and fights.
They stopped by the now familiar cooler and eased
their gear to the ground with a sigh.
Though not a forced march, neither of them were dawdling and that made
their pace less than leisurely. They
were both glad for the chance to stop and rest.
Simone dropped the tent, emptying it out of its
carry bag and assembling the pieces with practiced ease now. Sara opened the cooler to find two steaks,
another bit of ice cream and the expected note.
Sweet Sara, (it read)
I trust
this finds you and your companion well and that you are making great strides
towards resolving the issues between you.
Considering your rapid-fire pace thus far, I am cautiously
optimistic. If not, and you are simply
trying to make it to the next marked campsite, please take the alternate blue
route marked on your map – it will take you into the more familiar paths of
this land, but will also provide you with whatever time you need to insure that
things are settled.
I have
high hopes for the two of you, daughter, and when you return successful in your
quest, I'll arrange for a more enjoyable holiday for both of you to spend
somewhere nice.
I hope
you know I have only your best interests at heart and will one day find it in
your heart to forgive me for this.
Your
fresh supplies are in the cave located in Rifleman's Hill; it will require both
of you to make the climb in order to retrieve the supplies that have been
provided.
Still your loving father, Billy
"ARGH!" Sara screamed and threw the
crumpled note on the ground. "So
help me, when we get back...." She
turned and looked at Simone who continued to put the tent together. Sara stomped over and started to yank on
Simone's arm before thinking better of it.
Instead she cleared her throat loudly and shoved the letter towards
Simone as soon as she was sure she had her attention.
Simone finished the bit she had left then accepted
the missive, reading through it with increasingly darkening features. She blew out a breath, easily noting Sara's
fury over her father's actions and attitudes.
Simone checked over the tent once more, securing the lines tightly and
rising to her feet.
"C'mon," she invited, returning the
letter to Sara. "Let's go get those
supplies. I'm hungry."
Sara just hoped Billy had remembered to leave
firewood; otherwise those steaks were going to go to waste, and that would just
be a damn shame.
Rifleman's Hill was a rather steep climb, arduous
after the speed they'd maintained for the past three days. Halfway up the slick rock trail, they came to
the cave. Sara muttered under her breath
and edged into the cave first; Simone couldn't stop the smirk that crossed her
lips as she picked up on the gist of what Sara was fuming about.
Inside was a travois holding their fresh dry
supplies, firewood and a second, small cooler.
They exchanged looks and shrugs before Simone lifted one end and Sara
took the other. They grunted at the unexpected weight and slowly made their way
out the cave mouth with Simone in the lead.
She deliberately shortened her stride – the path was narrow and slicker
than either of them was comfortable with considering their burden.
They were making good progress – working together
and cautiously easing down the hill. So
naturally something had to go wrong to upset the balance they'd found.
Simone had been very careful in placing her steps,
calling back to Sara when she found rocks or slick spots. Then without warning, Sara hit a rock Simone
had missed and the force of her stumble caused Simone to hit a location that sent
her skidding. Simone fell backwards and
Sara fell forward and they slid several feet before Simone hit a stone large
enough to impede their forward progress.
There was complete silence for a moment, then –
"Goddamn," Simone muttered, wincing as she shifted beneath the pile
of stuff that had slid forward onto her.
"That hurts."
"No shit.
Ow," Sara moaned as she struggled to sit upright. She grimaced when she saw the tumble of stuff
now piled up between her and Simone.
"Damn, Bleeder... are you all right?"
"I'd be better without all this shit lying on
top of me, but I'll live. You?"
"I've done something to my ankle, but
otherwise...." She groaned. "Getting down from here is going to be a
bitch."
"Getting *outta* here is gonna be a bitch if
you can't walk. I hope your old man wasn't
lying, or this is gonna get uglier than it already was real damn
quick." Simone gripped the items
closest to her and pushed them away from her.
With a little wiggle room, she was able to transfer more until she could
actually sit up and see Sara's ashen face.
She ran a cursory check over herself, observing a
number of scrapes and scratches and absently making note of the muscles that
were going to be protesting soon. Simone
eased her way back to where Sara still rested, eyes closed as she focused on
her breathing.
Simone placed a hand on Sara's shoulder to alert
her to her presence, then laid a wary hand on Sara's leg. The blonde woman didn't even flinch... until
Simone tried to remove her shoe.
"Fuck, that hurts!" she panted, trying
to keep from screaming aloud as the shoe finally came off. Simone ran a gentle hand around the swelling,
bruised flesh, then met Sara's eyes.
"I don't think it's broken," she said, "but it *is* a
really bad sprain. Do you trust
me?"
Green held blue for the longest moment as they
took one another's measure and then Sara nodded slowly. Without warning, Simone scooped her into her
arms enough to place her onto the pallet with infinite care. She looked at their supplies, then back at
Sara.
"I think I can get you and all this down in
one trip if you can handle being a little squished."
"That's fine," Sara agreed in a
whisper. "Whatever it takes to get
back to camp. I'd say just leave it
here...."
"... but we need it – I know. Wait here," Simone instructed without so
much as a twinkle in her eye. But since
Sara's eyes had closed to allow her to focus on her breathing again, she didn't
even notice.
Simone slowly straightened and began recovering
the supplies she'd pushed from the edge of the pathway. The firewood was the most scattered as it
hadn't been bundled... simply stacked.
She picked it up a piece at a time, laying it evenly on either side of
Sara's body. The cooler went at the
bottom near Sara's good leg and the dry good went on the other side. They might end up with squashed bread, but at
least it would provide a little protection while doing the lease amount of
damage.
Simone slipped off her jacket, shivering a little
at the sudden chill she was exposed to, and placed it over Sara's body. Green eyes slowly tracked open and Sara
looked back at Simone blearily.
"Try to stay still," Simone
instructed. Sara nodded and closed her
eyes again. Simone went back to the
front of the pallet and lifted the ends, moving forward slowly once again. Sara bit her lip to keep from crying out and
inch by painful inch, they made their way back down the hill.
When they reached the bottom again, Simone
unloaded the travois first, concerned that Sara did not move or open her
eyes. The fire was laid and the excess
wood placed to the side, and the cooler and dry supplies placed to the side
next to their tent. Only when that was
done did Simone reach out to Sara, to find green eyes staring back at her
pitifully.
"This sucks," she mumbled.
"Yeah and it gets worse. The sun is going down and you need to soak
that foot... see if you can get some of the swelling down."
"You look like you could use some soap and
water and a few band-aids yourself, Simone." Simone shrugged.
"Maybe later.
I've gotta get the fire built before the sun sets and get dinner
started. Can you make it to the stream
or do you need my help?"
For answer, Sara sat up slowly, handing Simone
back the light jacket that had covered her.
Simone took her hands and helped her balance as she stood... then caught
her as she slipped to the ground with a yell.
"C'mon," Simone encouraged, taking the
injured side and supporting it.
"Put your arm around my neck."
Sara opened her mouth to protest and Simone glared her into silence. "Look, Miser... it's not my first choice
either, all right? Work with me here a
little."
Sara thought about complaining for the split
second it took her to see her own pain and exhaustion reflected back at her
from those telling blue eyes. With a nod
of her head, she acquiesced and together they made very slow progress towards
the tiny trickle of water that appeared to be guiding their travels.
Simone seated her as comfortably as could be
managed, then rolled up her jeans as far as she could before slipping the ankle
into cold, clear water. Sara gasped at
the sensation, holding her breath for a long moment. Then she released it with a discomfited sigh.
"Thank you, Simone."
Simone jerked her head awkwardly but otherwise
said nothing as she turned and walked the short distance back to camp. She still had a lot of work to do...
especially since Sara was no longer in a position to help much. Not that she blamed Sara for this particular
problem – she'd been as unhappily surprised by the turn of events as Simone
had. But it didn't change their
circumstances either.
She looked at the firewood, wondering how long she
could make it last, then shrugging. It
wouldn't really matter if she couldn't get it to light – she'd never tried
without some sort of packing or kindling wood before. She thought briefly, then created a small
pile of shavings with her penknife.
Using that as her kindling, she was able to make it catch and from
there, laying the wood was easy.
Simone found more potatoes and took them to the
creek to wash, surprised to see Sara laying completely on her back with her
eyes closed while the water continued to flow over her ankle. Simone just shook her head and got on with
her work, never noticing that Sara was observing her through the slits in her
lashes.
Once the potatoes were put into the heat, Simone
scrounged through the dry supplies to find more of the same. Then she opened the smaller cooler and found
a six-pack of soda and another note. Her
lip curled, not believing the man's audacity, but she set it aside. It wasn't her business at the moment, and
when it was, she was going to have the power of the Family to back her up. She wouldn't let the boys kill William
Wainwright the third, but they would for damn sure put the fear of the Family
into his ass... one way or another.
"I shoulda just stuck to what I know
best," she muttered, then went into the tent to dig through their packs
for some sort of first aid kit – which was naturally at the bottom of Sara's
pack. Simone left the stuff of both bags
neatly stacked on their sleeping bags to make a point, then hefted the kit and
her towel and headed back down to the small creek with her flashlight in hand.
She made enough noise to alert Sara to her
presence, then knelt close enough to her that she could be seen, but far enough
away that she couldn't be touched.
Simone poured a generous helping of soap into her hands, hissing at the
stinging it caused to the cut skin. Sara
sat up, but didn't speak, waiting to see if Simone would ask for help. Simone ignored her, scrubbing her hands until
the cuts began to bleed again, hoping to force the dirt and impurities out that
way if she couldn't any other.
After a while, she plunged her hands into the icy
water, glad for the cold that immediately numbed the feeling. Only when Sara reached over her arms
awkwardly and pulled her out by the wrists did she breath, and then she glared
at Sara for interfering.
"Don't bother, Bleeder. I know it hurts like a son of a bitch. I also know you need disinfectant poured on
them as well as on your face and sides where you got scraped and bullied by
that damn hill. Let me help you
now. You've done enough on your
own."
Simone regarded green eyes for a long moment, but
finally relented. Sara felt the thrill
of victory, but kept it out of her expression.
Instead, she took the towel and patted the hands dry, then moved her
attention to the first aid kit between them.
"You get this out of my bag?"
"Yep."
Sara waited for more of an explanation, but none
was forthcoming. "All right
then," she acknowledged, "let's see what we've got." She looked down at the flashlight and sighed. "I need for you to.... Can you hold it still between your
knees?" Simone nodded and together
they got the flashlight situated so Sara could see to work.
She worked as swiftly as she was able; Simone sat
statue still as the light touch skimmed over her face, ribs and finally her
hands. Simone didn't utter a sound until
Sara poured disinfectant over her raw hands and then she hissed like a
cat. Sara jumped but didn't stop her
work until the hands were bandaged and the kit closed.
"All done."
Simone took a deep breath and nodded shortly. "Thanks." Then she gathered the kit and stood,
extending her arms for Sara. Sara
grasped her wrists, and together they made slow progress back to camp. Sara stopped and blinked at the tidy set-up.
"You did all this with those hands?"
Simone shrugged then opened the tent flap,
catching Sara's swift look at her when she saw the packs emptied neatly onto
their respective sleeping bags. "I
thought it only fair... since I dug through yours."
"Not necessary, but I appreciate the
gesture. C'mon...." nodding her
head back towards the fire. "This
stuff can wait. I don't know about you,
but I'm starving."
Dinner was a little more difficult to manage, but
they worked together and made it work.
The soda and ice cream probably would have been more appreciated had
they not been near exhaustion and in serious pain. But neither would take the single shot of
morphine that had been part of the first aid kit and aspirin just wasn't
cutting it. After a brief struggle to
bank the fire, they made their way into the tent, collapsing onto their sleeping
bags as soon as they'd pushed the stuff to the sides. They'd worry about that tomorrow. Tonight they were going to try and sleep.
************
"You sure about this?" Simone asked
skeptically.
"My father has to have all the new toys –
yes, I'm sure. They'll see we aren't
moving and he'll send someone out after us to find out what the trouble
is. GPS tracking at its finest."
They'd repacked their backpacks and cleaned up,
tasks that, even working together, had taken them most of the morning; now they
sat waiting for the ride Sara had assured Simone would be forthcoming. The silence was as comfortable as it had ever
been for them – still, neither felt the need to bridge the differences that
remained. They were back to where things
had been before they had exploded and for them, it would have to be
enough. Unlike William Wainwright, they
knew some things couldn't be changed... no matter how hard one wished.
They were drowsing in the warmth of the sun when
the whirring of a motor woke them from their slumber. Sara sat up slowly, battling her way to an
upright position just as the Hummer reached their position. Simone eased up onto her elbows and squinted.
A woman jumped from the vehicle and took one look
at Sara's black and blue ankle and Simone's bandaged hands and whipped out her
cell phone.
"Sir, I think we have a problem."
************
The chopper landed nearby, and William Wainwright
stepped from the back as though this was an everyday experience. He walked in silence to where his daughter
and her companion waited. His step
faltered when he discovered the sheer fury written clearly across both visages
and the confidence he felt in his idea slipped from his face.
"Sara...."
"Don't, Dad.
There is not a damn thing you can say to make this better. Just get us home and hope we don't *both* sue
you for reckless endangerment and kidnapping."
William Wainwright may have been a man of simple
things, but he wasn't a stupid man by any means. He'd known, when he'd undertaken this
particular course of action, that he was running a real risk of screwing up his
relationship with his daughter if it didn't work out the way that he hoped it
would. He'd trusted that by giving Sara
and Simone time and space to work things out, they would do so. He'd never expected it to end like this.
Without another word, he motioned to the woman who
had first summoned him to this area and she immediately started packing up the
campsite. He turned to Simone. "Do you require assistance?" She shook her head at him but did not grant
him a verbal answer. He nodded and
scooped Sara into his arms before she could protest. Then he headed back to the helicopter with
Simone walking right beside him.
The trip back to the ranch was silent – cloying
and uncomfortable. Sara had deliberately
turned her head away from her father, her anger a palpable thing. Simone kept her attention on the world
outside, glad this ordeal was almost over.
Billy took the hint and moved as far from the two of them as he could –
the navigator's seat in the front.
When they landed at the ranch house some minutes
later, several people emerged – one with a wheelchair for Sara; another to help
guide it where the grass was thickest; still a third to welcome Simone in and
lead her to a room to be seen by the doctor that was kept on staff for the
ranch. She followed, knowing her wounds
needed treatment first.
Billy watched them go silently, wondering. Something had changed between them, but he
didn't for a minute think things were over.
************
Simone let the doctor tend to her wounds, sitting
stoic and silent until his chatter died away awkwardly. He gave her some last minute instructions,
then she followed her guide to a large room and was motioned inside.
"There are fresh towels in the bathroom and clean
clothes in the closet. Unless you need
my help, I will leave you alone to shower in privacy. When you're ready, click the speaker and I'll
come back to take you down to Mr. Wainwright's office."
"And if I prefer to talk to Wainwright
now?"
The housekeeper didn't blink. "Then I'll take you to him now, but I
thought you might prefer to be comfortable first. I believe Mr. Wainwright is with his daughter
at the moment."
Simone snorted.
"I doubt it." She stood
there a moment, considering her options and found serious benefit in not only
making the man wait for her to appear, but also in being clean and comfortable
when she confronted him the first time.
Decision made, Simone shrugged casually.
"Whatever... I'll be out in a few minutes. Wait for me."
The housekeeper didn't care for the curt tone, but
Mr. Wainwright had instructed her to see to their guests needs, so that's what
she would do. Sooner than she expected,
the water started running and it ran for far less time than she had anticipated. In only a few minutes, Simone stood before
her clad only in a bath sheet.
Simone walked straight to the closet, surprised to
find it full of clothing that would fit her.
She wondered what the hell William Wainwright was *really* playing at,
then mentally shrugged. It didn't
matter. After today, she would no longer
have to deal with the man unless he continued to be stupid. And even then, Uncle Sal would be more than
happy to send the boys to take care of things.
She dressed as swiftly as she could manage – her
hands were still stiff and sore. Still,
she did it without help – black slacks, white shirt, black jacket and boots...
the same clothes she normally wore to work.
Only this time, they carried an edgy menace and she played on it. She left her hair loose... unusual for her,
but it made a statement she wanted Wainwright to understand. Simone was no longer part of his team – she
was Family now.
The housekeeper took an instinctive step back when
Simone emerged from the closet and Simone couldn't stop the dark smile that
crossed her face at the reflexive reaction.
"Let's go," she commanded, and Bunny nodded and was out the
door before she realized it.
They were quiet on their way down to Wainwright's
office, and the housekeeper ushered her in. "I'll fetch Mr. Wainwright. Please have a seat," motioning to the
chairs in front of the desk, but not waiting for Simone to obey before she
closed the door. Simone chuckled
mirthlessly. Then she deliberately
walked around the desk and took the seat behind it, propping her feet on the
old mahogany wood top and crossing them at the ankles.
It wasn't but a few minutes before William
Wainwright opened the door, apologizing, only to stop midway through a word
when he saw Simone's position. He
hesitated.
"Sit down," she directed harshly.
"You're in my seat," he stated
plaintively.
Simone rose and leaned on the desk, ignoring the
pain in her hands and ribs and glaring at him until he thought his hair would
fall out. "Sit. Down."
He took the seat closest to him, glad for the
support as his knees gave way. He
wondered where the mild-mannered employee had gone in the face of the furious
stranger that now regarded him with disdain.
Surely he hadn't miscalculated *that* badly, right? There was a very fine line between love and
hate and they had just needed the impetus to release their passion in a more
positive way – he had simply set the stage to allow them to figure that
out. No harm done, right?
Simone stared at him for a few minutes, letting
him stew in whatever thoughts where meandering through his head. She figured the rage she was allowing to
clearly show on her countenance was enough to let him know that he had fucked
up royally. What she had to say would
certainly put the nail in that particular coffin. Finally....
"Mr. Wainwright, I have something to say to
you, and then you are going to provide transportation to take me back to the
City. Do you understand?" He nodded, his words cut off by the ice cold
tone in her voice and gaze.
"Good. What you did was
stupid, childish and irresponsible. You
had NO RIGHT!!" her voice rising before she took a deep breath to will
herself back to calmness. "There is
no love lost between your daughter and I, and nothing you can say or do will
ever change that. Sometimes people are
just made to hate other people – your daughter and I fall into that
category. We will never get along...
much less like one another. That's how
it is."
Simone walked around to the front of the desk and
leaned casually against it, studying the man in front of her. The years had been kind to him – he was still
ruggedly handsome... blond hair and green eyes very much like his daughter's
and obviously a man who did more than sit behind a desk eight to twelve hours a
day. There was something in his
glance... a sadness that made Simone wonder, but only for a moment. She crossed her arms over her chest, wincing
at the pull. Then she caught his eyes
again and held them, ensuring her could see her seriousness.
"Mr. Wainwright, have you ever heard of
Salvatore Amici?" Wainwright's face
paled noticeably and Simone smiled grimly.
"I can see that you have.
Sal Amici is my uncle – I am the only female child of my generation and
the only child of Sal's only sister – she was the baby of her family, you
know. Do you see where I'm going with
this?" He nodded vigorously, but
she continued.
"Uncle Sal is more than a little protective
of me, as are my cousins. Would you like
to imagine what would happen to you if something like this were to get
out?"
"I'd rather not," he admitted candidly.
"Smart man... it's not pretty. Do yourself a favor, Wainwright – leave me
alone. And if you're really smart,
you'll leave Sara alone as well. She's
as likely to throw you off a bridge in cement shoes at the moment as Sal would
be if he got wind of this. Capice?"
"Why do you care? You just admitted you hate her."
"This has nothing to do with her; I am
looking out for you. I figure you owe me
pretty big now, and if she kills you, I lose out on collecting my debt."
He nodded his acceptance of her explanation, then
pinched his lip between his finger in thought.
"May I ask...?" he asked with uncertainty. At her gesture, he continued though his voice
still wavered. "Why did you come to
work for me? Was it some sort of set-up
or...?"
Her bark of laughter held no mirth and she shook
her head. "I came to work for you
because you hired me on my own merit. I
am good at what I do and I wanted to earn my own place. I never wanted to be involved in the Family
business, despite Sal's desire to groom me for a position of leadership. However, now thanks to you, that will
change. Sal will be thrilled," she
added drolly.
"Does that mean...?"
"It means as of this moment, I am no longer
your employee and therefore, no longer your concern. Now you can either arrange transportation
back to the City for me immediately, or I will call Sal and have him take care
of things. As the heir apparent, I'm
entitled to a few perks."
Wainwright rose.
"If I could get to the phone...." motioning to his desk. She waved him by and moved to stand behind
him looking unseeingly out the window.
He set the phone in its cradle and she turned to him, eyebrow arched in
question. "It will take a few
minutes, but you should be leaving in half an hour at the most. Is there anything...?"
"Yeah... tell me why you did it. The truth, Wainwright... no shit."
"Personal or professional?" unwilling to
risk offending her any further than he already had. Even if she *was* bullshitting about being
Salvatore Amici's heir apparent, he didn't think she was making up the Family
connection. It made too many things that
hadn't made sense before suddenly fall into place.
"Both," she replied succinctly.
"Professionally, you would have made an
unstoppable team. You have the creative
flair and she has the business acumen to be successful on any project you were
on. And you would have balanced one
another perfectly – more adventure in her life... less impetuousness in
yours." He stopped speaking and
Simone arched a brow at him.
"And personally?"
He winced.
He hoped what he had already said had been enough. Apparently not. "Personally, I think you would have made
great friends."
She eyed him skeptically. "Friends... is that all?"
He met her eyes stubbornly. "That is all *I* could push for. Anything else had to be your own doing."
"But...?"
Wainwright sighed.
"But there is a very thin line between love and hate. Any hatred that passionate had to have a flip
side. I hoped, given the right set of
circumstances...."
"Why?"
He blinked.
"What? Whaddya mean
why?"
"It's not a difficult question, Billy. Why did you hope the hatred between your
daughter and me would turn to something else??
No one wants their kid to be gay, even in this age of
'enlightenment'."
"I told you...."
"NO!
Not that bullshit again!"
She huffed out a breath.
"You know what... it doesn't matter. You just do yourself a favor – stay out of my
way and stay out of my business. And as
long as you keep your nose clean, I'll stay out of yours. You got it??" He nodded but kept his mouth shut. "Good," she said scathingly, her
temper at the boiling point.
The phone ringing interrupted their stand-off and
Wainwright heaved a sigh of relief. He'd
never dealt with this Simone before and now he sent up a silent prayer that
he'd never have to again. "The car
is here," he informed her. "It
will take you out to the runway where my private plane is waiting to return you
to the City. My car will meet you there
and deliver you home.
She nodded and headed out the door without another
word.
************
Sara returned to work on crutches the following
Monday to find Simone's office cleaned out – completely devoid of anything to show
she had ever been there. She still
hadn't spoken to her father.
Sara had soaked in the tub for an hour as soon as
she'd gotten inside. When she was done,
the doctor had wrapped her ankle and cautioned her to stay off of it as much as
possible. She'd called down to have the
jet prepped for flight back to the City, only to discover it had already been
dispatched. She gave instructions for it
to be recalled as soon as possible and then called down for dinner. As long as she was going to be stuck here,
she might as well be comfortable.
Bunny delivered her meal, taking a bit of time to
fuss over Sara like a real mother would.
She tried to break the ice, encouraging Sara to talk, but all she got
for her efforts were one word answers or grunts. Giving it up as a lost cause for the moment,
the housekeeper kissed Sara's forehead as though she was checking for a
fever. Then she left quietly, wondering
what on earth William Wainwright had done to cause such upheaval in the
household. All the staff had been told
was that Sara and a friend had gone camping but had run into a bit of
trouble. Bunny wondered what exactly the
real truth was – and wondered if she'd ever find out.
It had taken until the following morning before
Sara could fly back to the City and she'd done so without a word to her
father. She'd figured he was exercising
the better part of valor at the moment, but all she'd felt was relief that she
had no need to see him. She'd taken the
remainder of the week to recover her wits and heal up the worst of the scrapes
and bruises she had acquired.
When she walked in on Monday morning, every eye in
the place had tracked to her and just as quickly skittered away. Sara didn't even acknowledge them, her fury
still too close to the surface. Instead
she went straight to her office, her unfortunate assistant trailing along
behind her.
She sat down and went immediately to work. Even without Simone's irritating presence,
Sara still had a number of accounts to manage.
And while it wasn't the same without an argument to interrupt her on a
regular basis, Sara found she could actually get more work done that way.
The thought lasted until lunch.
************
William Wainwright called Sara into his office
just as she was ready to step out of her office and go to lunch. The look she gave him should have turned him
to ash in the spot, but since they were at work, no scathing retort
followed. Instead, she hobbled down to
his office and he closed the door behind her as he motioned her to a seat. She refused and remained standing.
"Sit down, Sara."
"No thank you; I prefer to stand."
He blew out a deep breath. Her ire was still burning very hot. "Suit yourself," he agreed as he
resumed his seat. "I thought I told
you to work things out with Simone – you were not to return until you had done
so." He waited but she made no
comment. "So as I see it, you're
not even supposed to be here."
"As I see it... neither are you."
"Oh?
How do you figure?"
"Kidnapping will get you put in jail for a very
long time." He blanched at the
seriousness of her tone, but otherwise gave no reaction to her words.
"Be that as it may," he finally relented
when it was clear she was not going to continue. "Until such time as the two of you can
work things out together between you, you are not to return to work in any
capacity."
"You're firing me?!?"
"Think of it as a leave of absence. I'm not cutting you off, Sara...." She held up her hand and he stopped trying to
explain his actions.
"You can't," she sneered, "but you
know what... I don’t rightly give a fuck right now. Don't call me."
"Sara, I'm doing this for your own
good!!"
"NO!" she fumed. "You're doing this because you hate to
lose! No wonder Mom left!" She opened the door, slamming it against the
wall hard enough to make the books shake.
Sara didn't care; she limped through the doorway and back into her
office.
Her assistant looked up in surprise. "Ms Wainwright?"
Sara took a deep breath. Julie was one of the few people she believed
had nothing to do with her fiasco the week before. "Julie, can you find me a box and call
the driver to let him know I need a ride home, please?" She cursed herself for not being able to
drive today of all days.
"Yes ma'am.
Anything else?"
"Come into my office when you're
done." Julie nodded and moved from
behind her desk to open the door for Sara before leaving for the copy room to
collect a box. She had a bad feeling
about this.
As expected, Sara had all of her personal
belongings in a single spot by the time Julie returned from the copy room. "You're leaving?"
"Not officially," Sara answered
wryly. "But I don't expect to be
back, either. My father has made my
situation here intolerable. I seriously
doubt he's going to change his position any time soon and I can't work like
this anymore. I'll make sure he finds a
place for you. I know Grace was looking
for some help...." trailing off when Julie shook her head.
"Not if it means I have to work directly for
him. Not all of us were in on the little
scheme to get you and Ms Marcone together.
Most of us figured you'd work it out or not in you own time, you know...
like regular folks do."
"That would have been nice." They finished putting away her personal
effects and then Julie hefted the box.
"Come on, Ms Wainwright... I'll walk you
down. The car is waiting."
Sara ignored the curious looks that followed her
to the elevator. She waited until the
doors closed behind them before she looked at Julie. "You decide what you want to do, and
I'll make it happen. No reason you
should lose your job because of Billy's idiocy."
"You're really pissed with him, huh?"
"Let's just say I don't see spending any time
with him in the foreseeable future."
"Do you know what you're going to do
next?"
Sara shook her head. "No... it's not like I was planning to
have to make a life-changing decision today." The doors dinged and opened and Julie held
the door to allow Sara to step through first, then she followed behind. The driver opened the car door and Julie slid
the box across the floorboard before Sara slipped in. "You have my numbers... call me when you
figure out what you want to do."
"Thanks, Ms Wainwright." Then Julie closed the door and the driver
pulled into traffic.
************
William Wainwright didn't believe for one minute
he'd heard the last from his daughter.
Sara was many things, but demure had never been among them. He knew she'd be back if only to finish
reaming him out for interfering in her life.
Yet days became a week and then two, and there wasn't a peep from her –
and worse, she refused to see him or return his calls.
He was trying to figure out how to fix the
clusterfuck he'd created with his daughter when he received an unexpected
visitor in the form of Simone Marcone; he almost didn't recognize her. The pants and jacket were both leather and
custom cut to fit her long, lean frame.
The shirt was silk, a deep blue that brought out the ice in her eyes.
"Ms Marcone," he greeted, extending a
hand and watching as she took a seat across from him without accepting his
handshake. The two men that accompanied
her took up sentinel posts on either side of the door.
"Mr. Wainwright – did I not make myself
perfectly clear? I thought I told you to
leave your daughter alone. And yet it
has been brought to my attention that she has been dismissed from your
employ. Is that true?"
He thought about demanding explanations from her,
but the look in her eyes made him more prudent than his first inclination would
have made him. "I didn't dismiss her,
Ms Marcone. She's on a leave of
absence."
"Mr. Wainwright, don't try to
dissimulate. I know the conditions you
made for her to return to work, and I'm here to tell you that's not going to
happen. So if you want to keep your
daughter in your life, I'd suggest you learn to suck it up and start eating
humble pie."
"Why do you care?"
"I want a solvent business, Mr.
Wainwright. Your treatment of your
daughter has made the rounds in business circles and confidence in you as a
leader in the community is at an all time low.
Find a way to fix this situation, Mr. Wainwright."
"Do you like being a bully, Ms Marcone?"
"I'm not a bully, Mr. Wainwright. I am a businesswoman... not of my own
choosing either, I'd like to add. So if
this is uncomfortable for you, I suggest you look in the mirror. The only one to blame for this entire
situation is you."
He stood from his place. "I think it's time for you to go, Ms
Marcone."
"I'd agree, Mr. Wainwright," she said as
she stood. "But I also think it's
time for you to grow the fuck up and stay the hell out of other people's
lives. Worry about your business and let
everyone else take care of themselves.
You'll sleep better at night."
She turned and walked to the door.
"May I ask you a question?" Simone turned and arched a brow above eyes
filled with impatience. He sighed and
pressed on. "What happened between
you and Sara? Don't," he said when
she shook up her head. "I know
something did – you went from antagonistic competitors to downright
enemies."
"It really doesn't matter, and frankly it's
none of your business."
"Do you understand that I did this for Sara's
happiness?"
"I understand you'd like to think so. Mr. Wainwright, don't make me come back here
again." The door closed on Simone
and her entourage and Wainwright sank back into his chair. How was he going to fix this?
************
Sara was thrilled to walk down the sidewalk
without crutches for the first time in ten days. The cane was something of an imposition, but
it was an inconvenience she was happy enough to deal with. Especially since it meant she could get out
of the city for a while.
Sara had taken the unexpected time off to consider
all her options and decided she wanted a fresh start – away from William
Wainwright, away from Wainwright Industries and away from Simone Marcone. She was going to even try a new line of work
– thanks to her grandmother, she could afford to. First, though, she was going to visit her
mother.
"What did he do?" Adrianne Wainwright asked
when she opened the door.
Sara chuckled ruefully and accepted her mother's
hug once she was inside. "How can
you tell?"
"You have the same look I've seen in the
mirror every time I've had to deal with your father since long before you were
born." She watched Sara hobble
across the room to the couch. "What
in the world happened to you?"
"Long story."
"I've got the time if you do. Can I get you something to drink?" Sara shook her head.
"Can I ask you a question?" Adrianne nodded and took a seat. "How in the hell did you put up with him
as long as you did?"
Adrianne smiled and combed Sara's hair back from
her forehead. "I had you," as
though that explained everything.
"Did he do this to you?" motioning to the cane.
"Not directly, though he is responsible for
it."
"Oh I can't wait to hear this."
So Sara told her mother everything, from the
moment she'd woken up beside Simone until the moment he'd dismissed her from
Wainwright Industries.
"Why?"
Sara shook her head. "Why what? Why did he kidnap us? Why did he fire
me? Why is he suffering from a God
complex? C'mon, Mom... you're going to
have to be more specific."
"Well, Billy's always suffered from a God
complex, sweetheart," she proclaimed drolly. "And I'm sure he thought firing you
would bring you back into line quicker."
Adrianne shook her reddish head.
"You'd have thought he'd have learned that lesson with me – it
ended in divorce. He kidnapped you
and... what was her name? Anyway,"
before Sara could respond. "He
tried to force the two of you to reach the resolution he wanted to end your
conflict. You should have filed charges
against him, you know. No... my question
is why did he think you would be able to resolve the issues between you to his
satisfaction by forcing you together in such a manner?"
"He's delusional? I don't know.
We never got along, right from the first. And things only grew more strained between us
as time went on. If he'd shown any sense
at all, he simply would have left us alone and kept our work separate from each
other."
Adrianne made note of the odd fire in her
daughter's eyes and determined to contact her ex-husband at her earliest
opportunity to get the missing pieces of the puzzle. Something more was going on here and Adrianne
wanted to know what it was.
”So," she said brightly, turning her
attention back to Sara, "have you decided what you want to do for now...
aside from knocking your father silly?"
"Actually, yes. I think I am going to go away for a bit –
maybe see if I have that creative spark left in my soul anymore."
"Your grandmother would be happy to hear
that."
Sara smiled.
"I figure she's busy trying to figure out how to strike him down
with lightning for being a jackass."
Adrianne laughed.
"I never could understand how a woman like
Charity Wainwright could have raised a child like Billy."
"Dumb luck," Sara snorted.
"I know you're angry sweetheart, but he is
your father. Despite everything –
because of everything – he loves you very much."
"Maybe... but for now he's going to have to
learn to love from a distance.
Otherwise, I might do something more rash than telling him
off." She rose to her feet slowly
and Adrianne stood with her.
"Do you know where you're going?"
"Rome... for now anyway. Maybe Paris or Barcelona after that. Nothing is set in stone yet."
"Well, keep in touch – a phone call... the
occasional email – you know how to reach me." Adrianne opened her arms and took Sara in a
firm embrace for several long minutes.
Finally, they both pulled back, assuring one another with their eyes and
exchanging a brief kiss. "Take care
of yourself, little girl. I hope you
find what you're searching for."
"Mom, I'd settle for a little peace."
Adrianne closed the door behind her daughter when
she left and leaned against it.
"What the hell have you done, Billy Wainwright?"
************
Salvatore Amici sat behind his desk contemplating
the man and woman who sat in front of him.
He'd invited them in an attempt to understand what had happened to bring
Simone back to the Family. Not that he
was complaining – on the contrary, he couldn't have asked for a better
circumstance as far as the Family was concerned. He'd coveted her skill and acumen from the
first, but he had promised his sister to look out for her only child... not to
force her into the Family business. He'd
been disappointed when Simone had chosen another path, but Sal had kept his
word.
Now he looked at her former employer, wondering
what could have happened to cause Simone to leave a career she'd loved –
despite the antagonism she shared with this couple's only child. Privately, Sal felt Simone had relished the
arguments between them – whether she admitted it or not, she enjoyed the fire
and passion she and Sara brought out in each other. But that was a matter of discussion for
another day. Today was about finding out
what had changed.
"I'm not going to waste time with
platitudes," Sal said without preamble.
"I want to know what caused Simone to leave your employ,"
directing his words to William Wainwright.
"I want to know what happened between your daughter and my niece to
drive her away from a job that she loved."
Wainwright flinched under the weight of Sal's
stare, his guilt only compounded by the look his ex-wife bestowed on him. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
"I'm afraid her leaving her job so abruptly
is strictly my fault, but the reason behind it is their responsibility –
Simone's and Sara's." Sal leaned
forward in his seat, placing his folded hands on his desk and cocking his head
in a listening attitude. When Billy
Wainwright didn't immediately continue speaking, Sal growled and glared at him.
"Would you care to elaborate?" he
invited, though it was noticeably *not* optional.
Wainwright cleared his throat again. "I was trying to decide the best way to
tell it."
"Oh, for God's sakes, Billy. Just tell us the truth," Adrianne said
with more than a hint of exasperation.
"Personally I think we deserve to know why you did what you did to
our kids!"
Sal looked at the woman in front of him, a slight
twinkle in his eye. Obviously, Adrianne
Wainwright knew something, and she was mightily pissed about it. He turned to her.
"You know something?"
"Only what my daughter shared with me – why
Simone left the company like she did."
She looked back at Billy and glared.
"You knew better... so what I want to know is why you felt the need
to interfere in the first place. They
were doing their work – what gave you the right...?"
Sal held up his hand. "Would one of you fill me in on why
Simone left, please? All she said was
creative differences and while I know that those existed, I also know that
isn't the reason she left."
Adrianne and Sal both looked at Billy, but he kept
his eyes firmly on the ground. Adrianne
turned back to Sal. "Let me share
with you what Sara told me before she left."
"Wait... you know where Sara is?"
Wainwright asked his ex.
"Yes," Adrianne said succinctly. "And no... I'm not going to tell
you." She looked back at Sal and filled
him in on what she knew, not leaving out any of the details Sara had
shared. "Apparently Billy felt
their animosity towards each other was hurting morale and productivity."
"I see.
And what did you think to accomplish with your actions, Mr. Wainwright? Did you not consider all the ramifications of
what you were doing?"
"I thought I had. I believed if they had to and could learn to
work together without antagonism or rancor, things would work out like they
were supposed to for everyone. Productivity
would skyrocket, morale would improve and Sara and Simone would find
happiness."
"Why would you think that, Billy? They never pretended anything more than a
cordial dislike for one another. What
the hell gave you the right to decide that??"
"Because hate is not the only passionate
emotion in the world and I know there was more between them – I saw it!"
The silence that fell after his pronouncement was
all-encompassing. Not even the sound of
breathing could be heard.
"Explain." The statement was cold and flat and
Wainwright couldn't miss the edge in Sal Amici's voice.
Billy cleared his throat. "It was late – the office was empty
except for Simone and Sara although I didn't know that when I went in. I thought the cleaning crew was working; it didn't
occur to me that it would be otherwise."
He drew a deep breath. "I'd
stopped by to pick up some paperwork I needed for an early morning offsite
meeting. I didn't announce myself –
there was no reason to. I gathered what
I needed from my office and headed right back out." Billy stopped again to swallow.
"I had just opened my office door to leave
when I heard Sara literally crash out of her office before tracking her
progress right to Simone's door. She
didn't bother to knock – she simply slammed the door open and started
yelling. From what I could gather, she
was informing Simone in no uncertain terms that she was an idiot if she thought
she was going to approve the funding for whatever proposal Simone had
made. Of course Simone wasn't going to
take anything from Sara sitting down and got right back into her face."
"And???" Adrianne asked after the
silence dragged on interminably.
"And?" Billy repeated. He shrugged.
"They stopped for a long moment, simply staring at one
another. It seemed to me like they
hesitated for the briefest moment... wanting to reach out to one another. But instead they turned away from each other
– Sara back to her office and Simone to her desk. After that, their relationship went
downhill. Cordial dislike became
outright animosity and they took great pains to never be alone together
again."
Billy stopped speaking and silence fell while Sal
considered his words. Adrianne just
covered her eyes with her hand and shook her head in disbelief. Finally....
"Why did you assume they wanted to reach out
to one another? Why assume that there
was anything more than anger between them?
According to you, that is all you had seen from them... before or
since. Why do you believe this was
different?"
Wainwright sighed audibly, rising from his seat
and pacing behind them while scratching the back of his neck. "You would've had to have seen it –
there was just a different vibe for that moment. I was hoping.... I just don't understand why they refused to
acknowledge it."
"The point is," Adrianne spoke up before
Sal could formulate a response, "that it was really none of your
business. If they were bad for morale,
then you should have separated them – taken them out of a position to have to
interact with one another. Do you
realize what you've done? Better yet, do
you know how to fix it?"
Billy chuckled nervously. "Fix it?
Despite my best intentions, this situation is fucked up beyond all
repair. I don't think any further involvement
on my part will serve to make things better."
"Perhaps I should take care of this,"
Sal said after another awkward moment of silence. He folded his hands and pressed them lightly
against his lips. "You might have
had the right idea, Wainwright; you simply suffered from poor execution."
"You think you can do better?" Billy
sneered.
"I know I can," Sal announced calmly.
"And you're willing to risk your niece's
wrath?"
For the first time, Sal gave them a genuine
smile. "My niece is not here by her
own choice, and she has not been happy since she returned to the Family. She'll get over it... eventually."
"And Sara?"
Sal shrugged.
"I do not know your daughter, madam, therefore I cannot say for
certain. What you and her father need to
decide is if it is worth the risk. When
you have reached a decision – if it is in favor of taking action to repair
things, I will make the necessary arrangements."
"Do you really think it will work, Mr.
Amici?"
"I think we have nothing to lose by trying again."
"Do it," Adrianne stated bluntly,
holding up her hand to keep William Wainwright silent. "No, Billy... not this time. You don't get a vote. You haven't seen what your little fiasco did
to our daughter. I've never seen her so
angry...."
"And you want to exacerbate that anger by
interfering a second time?"
"It's a little late for you to be worrying
about the consequences, Billy. You
started this. We're just trying to limit
the damage you've done."
"And if it backfires?"
"Then you'll be no worse off than you are now
and neither will Sara!" Adrianne
drew a calming breath. "Billy... we
have to do something. If what you said
is true, then we have to try."
William Wainwright sighed and nodded at Sal. "All right, but if it doesn't work, I
will take full responsibility. There is
no reason to force them to turn their backs on all of us."
"Have a little faith, Wainwright – I'm not
going to be a generous as you were."
************
"Fuck!" Simone griped as she blinked
blue eyes open then slammed them shut, groaning as she rolled onto her side to
keep from puking as she experienced a distinct sense of déjà vu. "Goddamnit... not again." She concentrated on breathing slowly, hoping
to settle the sense of nausea that rolled through her body. "Tell me this is a fucking nightmare and
I am just imagining that my life is repeating itself."
"Son of a bitch," Sara grumbled and
curled into a ball. "I'm gonna kill
him this time. I don't think a jury
would convict me after this." Sara
closed her eyes again, hoping to dispel the queasiness that made her want to
upchuck her guts. When she finally felt
a little of her equilibrium return, she forced her eyes open and peered at
Simone. "You all right,
Bleeder? You look a little green."
Simone opened her eyes, allowing Sara to see her
misery briefly before closing them once more.
She couldn't hide it and her pride was not worth the effort it took to
pretend at the moment. Sara sighed and
wondered if Simone felt as bad as she looked and in turn how badly she looked
considering she felt like she'd been ridden by an elephant then pooped on for
good measure.
Silence fell between them so absolute not even
their slow, measured breathing could be heard without serious focus. However, if one had taken the time and the
effort to do so, one would have noted that there was only one set of breathing
– they were in perfect sync.
Time passed, though neither woman was aware of
just how much time had passed.
Eventually though, they were able to blink their eyes open without their
heads pounding or their stomachs roiling.
They did so, sitting up slowly until they were able to take in their
surroundings.
It was a large, one room cabin complete with a
small kitchen area of sorts, a bathroom sectioned off by glass blocks and a
living/bedroom combination with a fireplace.
They exchanged disbelieving looks and Simone rose shakily to her feet.
"You don't get to kill him... I do. 'Cause your old man didn't do this – Sal
did."
"And you know this how?"
Simone pointed to the dartboard whose background
was that of her uncle in hunting attire with an envelope pinned in the
middle. "My Aunt made that years
ago."
Sara's eyes widened. "Musta been a hell of a marriage,"
she muttered.
"They're still married," Simone said
absently. "But they may not be when
I got finished with him." She
pulled the envelope from the board and opened it up, reading aloud.
Simone, (it read)
The
time has come for you and Ms Wainwright to resolve whatever differences there
are between you. The extent and the
outcome of said resolution is entirely up to the two of you – unlike William
Wainwright, I am not looking for a storybook ending.
I want
you to know I am thrilled about your homecoming – however, I am not convinced
you are happy in your decision to return to the Family. And I promised your mother to look after your
best interests, even when they went against my own. If after this is finished between the two of
you, you still desire to be my right hand, I will welcome you back with open
arms. No more questions will be asked
nor will doubts about your motives be speculated upon again.
As for
Ms Wainwright, I have secured the same agreement – once the two of you have
reached some sort of solution to resolve whatever is affecting the both of you,
she will be allowed to return to her job at Wainwright Industries if it is her
wish to do so. If not, her parents will
send her on her way in peace and will give their blessing on her new career as
a writer and photographer besides.
I am
certain by now you realize where you are, by reputation if not by
familiarity. Please do not try to leave
here – it is currently not safe to do so.
We will return for you when it is.
That should allow you plenty of time to work things out.
If you
do some investigating, you will find that the cabin is well stocked with basic
dry good and there is running water.
There is, however, no electricity.
You will need to chop wood for your fires, hunt game for your meat and
essentially learn to survive up there together for the next three to four
months. There are emergency medical
supplies in the basement, but try not to need them. I have assured Carmena that this is perfectly
safe – and it will be as long as you are careful.
I am
certain you are cursing my name at this point and to some extent I cannot blame
you. I would never have gotten involved
in this if William Wainwright had not made such a cock up of his effort to
'fix' things. Actually, if he had left
you two alone to begin with, this would have been unnecessary, but we can
discuss the semantics of the situation when you return.
Look at
this as a business problem that needs an outcome that will satisfy everyone
involved. I am certain the two of you
will be able to come up with something.
We will see you in the spring.
Sal
They were mute for several moments after that,
trying to absorb the unreality of their situation. "I do not fucking believe this,"
Simone finally muttered. "I hope
Carmena has good insurance on him because I'm gonna kill him and make it look
like an accident. Then I'm gonna kill
him again just for grins and giggles."
"I have a better idea," Sara fumed. "Why don't we send them to jail
together? It'll be just like this for
them only it will last for years, and they can be someone else's bitch for a
while."
Simone snorted.
"Nice to see that mean streak focused somewhere else for a
change."
Sara shrugged.
"Give me a few. You're the
only real target I've got here."
She sighed. "Are we really
stuck here for the next three or four months?"
"I dunno exactly. I only know this place by reputation; I've
never actually been here." Simone
slowly stood up and stretched. Sara rose
as well and they went to the door – only to find snow on the ground when they
opened it. "Dammit!"
Sara looked out at the landscape for a long moment
before turning her attention back to Simone who had already retreated back
inside. "Where are we?" she
asked, shivering and closing the door behind her. She watched Simone drop onto the couch and
decided to prowl around the cabin while she waited for an answer.
It was spacious, all things considered. The kitchen had a large, old working
woodstove, several large wooden cabinets and a long bar with several stools that
separated it from the living area. The
bathroom area was large and open with a different function in each corner all
separated by half-walls. The living area
took up the largest part of the cabin by far.
The fireplace sat in the middle of one wall, flanked on either side by
full bookshelves. There was a couch in
front of the fireplace and two custom length bunk beds against the wall
opposite the door.
"Well, that's a blessing at any rate,"
Sara muttered to herself, crossing her arms over her chest. "At least they don't expect us to share
a bed."
"Yeah, that'd be about the perfect end to
this stellar day," Simone snarked.
Sara opened her mouth to make a scathing retort but Simone continued to
speak. "We are so fucking
screwed."
"I thought that was what this was about...
screwing us."
"Get your head out of your ass for two
seconds! Can you hunt... or cut
firewood? Because I have never done
either and I'm pretty sure we're gonna need those two skills eventually."
"Get *my* head out of *my* ass?? Stupid bi...!" So much for a lasting truce, Sara thought as
she blew out a breath. "As a matter
of fact, I can do both – I learned on the ranch when I was a kid. But why don't we just leave? The snow is not that deep yet."
Simone blew out her own deep breath, frustrated
beyond words at the moment. She was
angry... furious, actually... but for a change it wasn't directed at the woman
she was once more forced to share living space with. As far as Sara was concerned, Simone was
tired to the point of exhaustion.
"Look, I don't wanna be here with you any more than you wanna be
here with me, but since we're stuck here for a while, I'm gonna try and explain
this without getting angry at you."
"That'd be a nice change. Does that mean we're under a truce now?"
"Whatever." She ran her hands through her hair. "You know who Sal Amici is?"
waiting for Sara to nod her head after her eyes had widened significantly. "He's my uncle. When his grandfather... my
great-grandfather... was young, he was already a big part of the Family
business. And he decided he wanted a
place to get away from everything... somewhere so remote that no one could
reach him... where he needed to arrange transportation in and out before he
came here. I don't know how the place
was built – it was completed long before I was born.
Since then, the location of this place has been
kept secret, handed down from fathers to sons as they reached puberty. Sal broke tradition and brought Carmena once
– she hated it. Hence the
dartboard," Simone motioned towards the wall. "All I know is that this place is remote
and is located far enough north of the equator that snow is sticking to the
ground and already starting to pile up before fall is officially over. I don't know what country, what continent...
hell, I don't even know which hemisphere we're in, so we could be south of the
equator for all I know."
"Well, that's just fucking great," Sara
grumbled in an exasperated tone.
"Bleeder, I've got to tell you – what my father did was over the
top, but this... this takes the cake.
Now what?"
Simone shrugged.
"I wish to hell I knew."
************
"Are you sure this is going to work,
Amici?" Sal raised his eyebrow at
William Wainwright's familiarity. Rocky
stepped forward to correct him, but Sal waved him off and the big man blended
back into the wall. Wainwright noticed
though and cleared his throat awkwardly.
"I mean...."
Sal held up his hand. "I do not see that we have a choice at
this point, Wainwright. The situation had
to be rectified and steps have been taken to insure that the two of them have
the time they need to work things out."
"So where did you put them?"
"That does not concern you. What matters now is that they settle whatever
is between them without further interference from anyone."
"Mr. Amici, are they safe?"
Carmena covered Adrianne's hands with hers before
Sal could open his mouth to respond.
"Don't worry, my dear. My
Sal knows not to let anything happen to Simone." Her dark eyes twinkled. "Everyone may answer to Sal Amici, but
Sal Amici answers to me," she said with a pointed look in his
direction. Sal merely smiled and raised
his hands, deferring to her summation.
Adrianne Wainwright joined Carmena Amici's
laughter. William Wainwright was smart
enough to remain silent and straight-faced.
He had no desire to meet Rocky up close and personal.
************
They had gone through their supplies, pleased to
have found a well stocked cellar and logs already felled and waiting to be
chopped into smaller pieces. There was a
good supply of cut wood on hand, extra blankets, a stack of writing tablets and
several sketch pads, pencils in a variety of colors and Sara's camera bag with
rolls of film.
They had ventured around briefly while they'd been
outdoors, satisfied that they had absolutely no idea where there were. The only thing they had been able to
determine was the direction of the sun, and that hadn't been particularly
enlightening. Happily, there was a small
tool shed with all the tools they might need set up next to the cabin as well
as a lean-to that covered the already cut wood.
Now they were sitting in front of the fireplace
struggling to light it. Though the cabin
was solid and well-insulated against the cold, a fire would go a long way
towards cutting the chill both felt in their bones. Besides, there was something about a fire
that was comforting, and they were both in need of a little of that.
So naturally they fell back into their comfortable
pattern of fighting as well, ignoring how much the barbs cut and stung one
another.
“Wait... let me get this straight,” Simone said as
she stood to get some space from Sara.
“You were taught to handle an axe and a gun, but you weren’t taught to
build a fire without matches?!?” They had
already searched for matches or a lighter and had come up empty.
“YES!” Sara shouted, standing stiffly. “Didn’t I just *say* that?? God, is there something wrong with your
hearing as well as your mind that you aren’t getting this or are you just purely
stupid?!”
“I am NOT stupid!!” Simone growled, her voice
barely above a whisper.
“Neither am I,” Sara mumbled, suddenly tired. “Look... we can figure this out. I saw Papa do it on occasion, but he died
before he taught me. And my father never
had the time.”
Simone nodded but didn’t answer. She had a feeling Sara was leaving a lot out,
but ultimately, she didn’t think it was her business. “So how do we do this?”
“We need some kindling... something to pack
between the logs to help them catch,” gratefully accepting the change of
subject, though she knew Simone already knew this. She had no desire to air her dirty laundry in
front of her worst enemy – eventually they would be out of this place and Sara
wasn’t going to give Simone any ammunition to use against her when they
did. “Newspaper or moss or....” Sara
scratched her head. “Hang on,” going out
the door that went directly into the shed.
“Aha!”
Simone’s eyebrow sailed into her hairline and she
waited for Sara to return. When she did,
the second brow joined the first. Sara
held a small basket of wood chips.
“Kindling,” Sara explained succinctly as she knelt in front of the
fireplace. Simone nodded and stepped
back to allow Sara to work.
Once the wood was laid and the chips were packed into
the spaces between the logs, Sara motioned to the two rocks sitting on the
mantle. Simone picked up a flint and
striker and held them out. “You have got
to be kidding me.”
Sara shook her head. "It's all we've got," reaching for
the tools. She tried several times
before her frustration started to get the better of her. Without a word, Simone
gently lifted them from Sara’s grasp, striking three times before the sparks
caught. Sara glared briefly, then decided
she was too tired to argue about it. Simone
just shrugged and returned the flint and striker to the mantle.
"You hungry?"
It was Sara's turn to shrug. "A little. Still kind of nauseated from that crap they
keep knocking us out with. It makes me
just want to...."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Simone
replied, rubbing the back of her neck again.
"Feels like they smacked me in the head with a slugger."
Unexpectedly, Sara stepped up behind her and
gently ran her hands over the back of Simone's skull. Simone froze, unable to breathe. "I don't feel anything," she said,
dropping her arms and moving into the kitchen.
"What do you want to eat?"
Simone blinked.
"Something easy... maybe a sandwich. I'll start cooking tomorrow, but
tonight...."
"Yeah – tomorrow we'll sit down and figure
out what the hell we need to do over the next few months. Tonight I just want to eat a bite and go to
bed. Fur rugs or not, this floor isn't
that comfortable." Simone nodded
and soon they were eating peanut butter and jelly.
"This isn't the same without milk."
"No, but at least I don't feel like puking
now. Top or bottom?" Sara asked,
pointing to the beds. Simone
shrugged. "I'll take the top
then. I think the bottom was made for
tall people. 'Night."
Simone didn't even bother to dissimulate – she
just followed Sara to the beds and collapsed in hers. With any luck, things would look better when
she woke up.
************
"Okay... this is not better," Simone
grumbled as she blinked her eyes open.
The sun was up, but the air around her was noticeably cooler than the
warmth under her blankets. Still, it
wasn't getting any warmer lying there, so she jumped from the bed, cursing
under her breath all the way to the fireplace.
She snagged more wood from the wood box, building
it up carefully the way she'd seen Sara do it the night before. She stuffed kindling in the spaces and stood
up to grab the striker and flint.
"Damn," Sara griped as she stuck her
head out into the cool air surrounding her outside her cocoon. "I forgot to bank the fire last night – not
that I actually know *how* to bank a fire." The sound of the fire being lit caused her to
open her eyes and turn her head.
"Hey... nice job on the fire there, Bleeder."
"Many skills," Simone snarked, turning
to light the woodstove.
"Breakfast?"
Sara bit her lip to keep from making the retort
that had sprung to her lips at Simone's biting tone. "Sure... can I help?"
Simone shrugged.
"If you wanna. Figure we may
as well use up the perishables while we've got 'em and they're still
good."
Sara nodded and climbed from the bed, unwilling to
jump after having sprained her ankle once before. They couldn't afford to get hurt out here;
they were completely cut off... literally on their own. She crossed to the kitchen area, just in time
to see Simone jerk her hand from the stove and cradle her arm.
"Let me see," Sara said, reaching for
the injured limb. Simone glared at her
and clutched it tighter to herself.
"Bleeder...." She
sighed. "Simone, please. We don't have to like one another, but we do need
to work together as long as we're stuck here.
There is no one to bail us out if something happens – we have to look
out for each other, all right?"
Simone held her gaze for a long moment before holding her hand out. Sara looked down and winced. The gash was deep, but cleanly sliced. "Let me get the first aid supplies and
clean that up. Then we'll see if we can
fix what did it."
Simone waited until Sara had gone to the cellar,
then tilted her head to find the ragged piece of metal inside the stove that
had done this. Then she pushed against
it until it was flush against the side.
Sara returned while her hand was still inside the oven and she shook her
head. She waited until Simone pulled her
hand back out to keep from causing another accident, spending the time
preparing the things she needed from the kit and having them ready when she
knelt down beside her again.
"Couldn't stand it, hmm? Not that I blame you," she said
conversationally as she gently wiped the blood from Simone's arm. Blue eyes widened as the alcohol burned in
and around the cut, but otherwise there was no reaction. "This is going to sting a little,"
Sara warned before sprinkling alum into the cut. Simone took a deep breath and released it
slowly, then Sara spread ointment over it before applying a bandage. "All done."
"Thanks," Simone said quietly.
Sara patted her hands and stood. "Thank you for trusting me. Now," she continued without hesitation,
"I'll see what we've got for breakfast if you want to finish with the fire." Her tone was nonchalant as though Simone's
injury made no difference in the scheme of things. "Then we can sit down and figure out
what we need to do and how we want to do them."
"Sounds good," Simone agreed. Then she turned her attention back to the
stove while Sara put away the kit and started pulling out items for their
breakfast. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad
after all.
************
"Are you out of your mind?? Dammit, Miser – what did you just say to me
this morning... about us looking out for each other?? What good is that gonna do if you don't look
out for yourself?? God, show a little
sense!"
"Sense?!?" Sara blew out a frustrated breath. "Look, Bleeder... as much as I
appreciate the unexpected concern, I'll be all right. I needed to get this finished so we don't run
short of firewood when the weather turns!"
"Whatever," Simone huffed. "I don't know why I bothered
trying. You do what you want. I've got work of my own to do." And she turned and walked out of the cabin
before Sara could respond.
"That could have gone better," Sara
muttered and looked at her hands. They
were cracked and bleeding, a result of her day's activities. She had cut and chopped firewood until it was
stacked in rows against the entire backside of the cabin. But despite the pain she knew she was going
to have for the next few days, Sara felt more comfortable knowing they had
firewood sufficient to last for several days if necessary.
If anyone had asked, she wouldn't have been able
to explain why she felt such urgency, but the fact was, for the first time in
her life, Sara was terrified. She had
never been in a situation even remotely like this and the feeling of being out
of control was unnerving to say the least.
The fact that she was stuck here with her worst enemy, who she didn't
exactly hate, just added insult to injury.
Sighing, Sara continued on to the bathroom,
running cold water over her hands until the blood was gone and she was able to
wrap them. It was awkward and several
times she cursed herself for shrugging off Simone's help. But she managed and finally sat down, her
whole body crying in relief. Despite the
fact that she exercised regularly and was considered fit, nothing had prepared
Sara for the level of activity that would be necessary to survive here or the
pain that accompanied it.
She stretched out on the couch, closing her eyes
and falling into a light meditation as she willed her body to relax. She never realized when she fell asleep.
It was after dark when Simone returned to the
house, noting immediately that the fire was low and Sara seemed to be asleep on
the couch. Pushing aside her irritation,
she crossed to the fireplace and added wood, waiting until the flames caught
again before she rose. She felt Sara's
eyes on her, but studiously ignored them, turning to go into the kitchen
instead.
Simone carefully stoked the woodstove, smiling in
satisfaction when it started to heat and moving the kettle to the center to
heat quickly. She moved back to the
door and removed her outerwear, then returned to the kitchen to begin preparing
something light and hot for supper.
"So did you finish whatever chores you had
outdoors?" Sara asked calmly as she sat up, blinking her eyes in the
near-darkness.
"Does it matter?"
"Simone...."
"No!
Look, Miser... we have to share this house – we're stuck here, so
there's no real choice at this point.
That will involve sharing chores and space to survive until whenever the
fuck Sal plans to come get us from our personal little hellhole. It doesn't mean we need to share conversation
or anything else that requires us to interact on a personal level. You've made it more than clear that you don't
trust me enough for that and I am too damn tired to keep fighting with you
about it. So you take care of your part
of the work and I'll do mine, and other than that, we'll just mind our own
business."
Sara kept waiting for Simone to offer her the
chance to agree... or not as was the case in point here, but she didn't. Instead, she turned back to her preparations
and left Sara sitting with her eyes wide and her mouth open. It took a full minute for her body to catch
up with her racing mind.
"Waitaminute... since when do you get to make
a decision like that?? What gives you
the right...?" She sputtered for a
moment. "This is not a
dictatorship!!"
"You said your piece – I said mine. Discussion over," Simone declared flatly
as she turned her back to Sara.
"I don't think so, Bleeder... not by a long
shot. And I've got all winter to prove
my point." Simone closed her eyes
and grit her teeth together when she heard Sara's growled vow, though there was
no change in her posture to indicated her frustration to the woman watching her
closely for a reaction. Simone had one
thought before forcing her attention on tuning Sara completely out.
I wish I had my goddamn iPod.
************
The next few days were an exercise in futility and
frustration for both women. Sara's effort
at breaking down Simone's walls was almost constant and only Simone's focus on
her meditation allowed her to tune Sara out with any degree of success. For a week this went on – Sara keeping up a
running dialogue and Simone all but ignoring her.
Simone spent as much time outdoors as she could
manage, scouting out the area around the cabin and trying to determine where
they were. She was having little
success, which only added to her frustration.
Sara could do little until her hands healed, but
she couldn't bear to be stuck inside alone.
She tried to follow Simone, but found it nearly impossible. Whatever training Simone had been given on
stealth in the City had somehow carried over to her ability to disappear in the
woods. So instead she pulled out her
paper and pencils and started writing, letting the words flow from her and
putting her thoughts and frustrations down on paper. It was slow going with her painfully healing
hands, but she found a sense of peace from doing so.
After a week of playing cat and mouse with one
another, Sara's hands were sufficiently healed that she could return to cutting
wood. First, however, she needed to go
hunting. Their fresh food was nearly
gone and they would need the fresh meat to supplement their diets.
"I need to go hunting tomorrow," Sara
said as Simone handed her a plate.
"We don't want to dig too deeply into our supplies too soon... not knowing how long we will actually be
here."
Simone nodded but didn't say anything else. Sara frowned but didn't try to force the
issue. She finally understood what
Simone meant when she claimed to be too tired to fight anymore. She really wasn't up for it either any
longer, and if it meant they lived in silence for the next few months, then so
be it.
The following morning, Sara was up and out before
Simone could even start breakfast.
Simone's ire grew at her carelessness, knowing all too well what
happened when Sara did not eat regularly.
Still, Sara was correct in her assessment of their needs and Simone
couldn't fault her logic. She just
wished Sara would take better care of herself instead of expecting Simone to do
it for her.
Simone went out into the lightly falling snow,
hauling in a load of firewood and stacking it neatly in and around the wood
box. Then she decided to try her hand at
cutting – despite the animosity she still felt towards Sara, Simone saw no
reason for the woman to suffer needlessly carrying the heaviest and most
physical parts of the load that living here was.
It was slow going at first and her handiwork was
much less precise than Sara's had been, but Simone was quite pleased with her
effort. At least she would be able to
contribute more than cooking and cleaning to their forced cohabitation.
"What the hell?!?" Sara's strident voice brought Simone whirling
around, nearly losing her grip on the axe.
Only a supreme effort on her part kept the tool from flying out of her
hands and into some part of Sara.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Simone's frown cut deep creases in her forehead. "Trying not to give myself a goddamn
hernia apparently. What the fuck does it
look like??"
Sara dropped the animal hide she was carrying and
leaned the gun against wood she had previously stacked. Then she started pacing back and forth. "God, Simone... what were you
thinking?"
"I was thinking that I could learn to do this
to help out!!"
Sara took a deep, calming breath. Now that Simone was talking to her... for
whatever reason... she didn't want her to suddenly clam up. She held up conciliatory hands before she
removed the axe from Simone's grip.
"And if you want to learn to chop wood... well, that's wonderful
and it's a great way to work out a lot of frustration. But," she added before Simone could cut
in, "there are some things you need to know to do it safely... especially
in this weather. And it's probably
better if you don't start out without supervision – or at least someone nearby
in case of an accident."
Simone pondered Sara's words for just a
moment. "All right," she
conceded, recognizing the experience behind her words for what it was. "I think I've done enough for today
anyway. My hands...." Before she could finish her sentence, Sara
had reached for Simone's hands, but Simone was quicker, pulling them away from
Sara's grasp.
"What the...?
Simone, let me see."
"No, Miser... no way. I told you we didn't need personal
interaction and while your mouth protested, your actions have shown you
absolutely agree with me. You don't take
care of yourself and you don't let me take care of you. I can manage on my own just as well as you
can, thanks." And with that, Simone
stalked back into the cabin, walls firmly back in place. Sara watched her disappear around the corner
before letting her shoulders sag in defeat.
"Dammit – I am such an idiot!" Then she picked up the rifle and animal hide
and followed Simone inside with shuffling steps. It was going to be a long night.
************
"I owe you an apology," Sara said after
she'd put the gun away and dropped the meat into the stockpot Simone already
had sitting ready on the stove. Her
words caused Simone to spin around so quickly she had to catch herself on the
countertop to keep from falling over.
"Excuse me?!
Since when do you apologize for anything??"
Sara took a deep breath and counted to ten before
replying. "I am making an effort
here. Please either meet me halfway or
shut up so I can try to apologize before it turns into another
fight." Simone nodded but kept her
mouth shut. "Thank you." Sara sighed.
"You were right, and I'm sorry.
I said we had to work together and then turned you away instead of
asking for help when I needed it. That
was wrong of me and I'm going to try to do better."
"Why?"
Sara blinked.
"Why?!? Why what???"
her anger increasing with her volume.
"Why did I say we needed to work together or why am I going to try
to do better??"
"Why apologize? You could have simply made an effort to do
better without this whole apology crap.
I'd've wondered what the hell you were up to, but at least that would've
been normal for us. Not once in the
years we've known one another has either of us ever apologized for
anything. Why start now??"
"Because we do need to work together and it
would be easier if we're not always waiting for the next attack. And like you, I've gotten too damned tired to
keep fighting with you all the time about everything. I don't expect us to be friends despite the
interference in our lives that keeps forcing us together, but maybe we'll at
least be able to come to some sort of equitable arrangement that allows us to
have an occasional civil conversation that doesn't include 'pass the salt' or
'it looks like more snow is on the way'."
Simone actually grinned briefly at the thought and
Sara held her breath. "That could
be nice," she agreed, "as long as it is not constant, idle
chatter."
"Yeah, you've never been one for meaningless
chit chat, I noticed." Simone
shrugged.
"Never saw the point."
"I always had to play the political game for my
father, so I learned how to make inane conversation at a very early age. Great for cocktail parties but pointless
otherwise. I think it's one reason I
picked up such a litany of curse words – they were unacceptable in such company
and therefore perfect as far as I was concerned." She clenched her hands and winced. Simone noticed and moved away, leaving Sara
to follow her movements with her eyes – eyes which widened when Simone returned
with a jar of lanolin.
"It'll help with the stiffness. Sal knew I'd need it in this weather,"
she added without giving a further explanation.
It was on the tip of Sara's tongue to ask, but she let it go in the
interest of the truce they had established.
Maybe later, when the peace between them had lasted a while, she'd get
up the nerve to ask. But not right now –
things were too tentative.
"Thanks," she said, rubbing some gently
into her hands and sighing in relief.
"Um... I need to take care of the hide. Do you know how to cook rabbit?"
"I never have before, if that's what you're
asking. I just thought we'd have
stew."
Sara nodded.
"Here," pulling a few ingredients from the cabinet. "These spices are ones I know go well
with it. You may want to experiment and
see what works best for you. Let me go
wash out this hide and set it to drying."
Simone nodded, eyes following Sara's form into the
bathing area. She was turning out to be
quite the surprise.
************
The next few days passed awkwardly. Sara and Simone made an effort to communicate
normally, but found after years of relating to one another by fighting almost
constantly, maintaining level conversation took supreme effort from both of
them. So there were a lot of silences
between their sporadic dialogues. But
some of their conversations....
"How did we wind up with such nice bathroom
facilities?" Sara asked at the end of one particularly long day. The weather had picked up and turned into a
blizzard before either woman had been aware of what was happening. So they'd spent the day moving as much wood
as they could safely manage.
Now they were stretched out in front of the
fireplace recovering, simply enjoying the experience of not moving. Sara's words broke into what had been a
fairly pleasant silence and caused Simone to roll her head to one side and arch
an eyebrow in surprise.
"Excuse me?"
Sara chuckled in embarrassment. "That was some segue, huh? Sorry, I was just experiencing a wave of
consciousness and you caught the tail end.
This place is solid, but it's also somewhat primitive – no electricity,
no modern appliances, no way to communicate with civilization or even return on
our own. And yet we have a modern
bathroom with running hot water. Not
that I'm complaining, mind you – not even close - but how did we end up with
that particular creature comfort?"
"Carmena," Simone answered succinctly.
When she didn't say anything else, Sara prompted,
"Would you like to elaborate?"
Simone shrugged.
"Sal was trying to convince her what a great place this was, but he
knew there was no way she'd spend any time here using an outhouse that had seen
only men before. So he built a dream
bathroom for her. He even had his
engineers utilize the nearby hot springs to insure she would have plenty of hot
water at her beck and call."
"Only it wasn't enough," Sara commented,
with a glance at the dartboard. Simone
chuckled.
"Not even close. I never got the details... no one did. But Sal did end up taking Carmena on a very
extensive trip to the old country afterwards.
And he never tried it again. In
fact...."
"Yes?" when the silence threatened to
engulf them again. Simone shook her
head.
"I think this is the first time anyone has
stayed here since then."
Sara took her time and looked around again, noting
the care that had been taken to make them comfortable during their enforced
exile. "Kind of a shame... I mean,
it's nice in a rustic sort of way. It
certainly could have been worse."
"My opinion of Sal's intelligence after this
stunt is not particularly high; however, even he is not stupid enough to have
made it any worse. If not for our sake,
then for his own."
"Carmena?"
"Carmena."
"I would like to meet her some day."
"I'm sure we can figure something out. She'd like you."
"Do you really think so?"
Simone shrugged.
"Sure... doesn't everybody?"
"You don't," came Sara's soft rejoinder,
eyes focused on the fire in front of her.
She felt Simone stiffen beside her.
"Why?"
"Leave it alone, Miser; we're under a
truce. Don't start something you don't want
to finish," Simone growled.
"Please stop calling me that, Simone. I hate it!! I always have." She sighed.
"Why can't you let it go already?
Why does everything between us always turn into a fight??" Simone stood up to pace in front of the fireplace,
only to be stopped when Sara stepped into her path. Sara reached out to Simone, only to have
Simone flinch away from her.
"Let it alone, Miser."
"Dammit, Simone!"
"No!
Just... just leave it, Sara – please," Simone pled, walking away
from Sara. Her body language screamed
for space and Sara dropped back onto the couch in frustration, giving the other
woman whatever privacy she could afford her in their enclosed living area.
Goddamn, Sara thought forlornly. One step forward, ten steps back.
Something had to give... soon.
************
Simone looked out the window, eyes unseeing on the
white darkness just beyond. She let her
thoughts travel back years – to the time when she and Sara were in college
together.
They'd met in the dorm that first night of college
and right away there were sparks between them.
It wasn't deliberate on either girl's part – they were simply two
strong-minded people who did not agree on anything.
It was always that way between them – conflict and
confrontation on every possible subject.
If one said up, the other said down; if one said right, the other swore
it was left; if one chose in then the other would choose out just on principle
and so forth and so on it went between them.
Simone got the feeling that Sara enjoyed their verbal battles as much as
she did and they sometimes went out of their way to spar with their words.
Sara rushed her chosen sorority and became a
sorority girl. Simone stayed away from
that scene, preferring to focus her concentration on her studies. That, of course, only gave them both more
fodder to use against one another.
The rest watched them in amusement – wondering
when they two of them would figure out there was a thin line between love and
hate and they had crossed from one side to the other.
Things went that way for three years, then Sara
became president of her sorority and moved to the house for her final
year. That was when things went to hell.
Simone's cousin Felicia had come to the college, wanting
to spend one year with her only girl cousin.
Despite the difference in age between them, Simone and Felicia had been
great friends. Their fathers had been
brothers and they'd spent lots of time at one another's house. Simone was looking forward to spending a
little time with Felicia before they were both so busy with real life that they
would no longer see each other except at the odd family function. Maybe they would be able to find a way to
keep in touch when Simone left for graduate school in the spring.
Felicia decided she wanted to rush a sorority and
when she couldn't talk the younger woman out of the idea, Simone recommended
Sara's. Felicia took Simone's advice and
soon found herself part of initiation ritual hazing. Every night, Felicia came in so late and so
tired she could barely crawl into bed, but on the last night, she didn't come
home.
At four in the morning, Simone was out searching
for Felicia only to find her in their room when she returned from her
search. She was passed out drunk on her
bed and Simone shook her head in disgust.
She hoped Felicia would be sick enough in the morning that she never got
that drunk again. Simone felt her ire
towards Sara grow - turning their arguments into something less teasing and
more biting... faulting Sara for making Felicia falling down drunk as part of
her hazing ritual.
The following month, Felicia came into their room
crying and Simone immediately moved to comfort her and find out what was wrong.
"I'm pregnant," she whispered after many
minutes of crying. "Simmy, I
haven't been with anyone that I know of.
How did I get pregnant?? Do you
know what my father is going to do when he finds out?"
Simone bit her lip to keep from yelling
obscenities. When she felt she had
herself under control, she asked quietly, "Lish, what do you remember
about your sorority rush week?"
Felicia thought back carefully to the events that
had led to her induction into her sorority.
"I have never been so tired in all my life. Who knew there were so many things that could
be cleaned with a toothbrush?" not mentioning some of the things she'd had
to 'clean'.
"What about the last night? The night you came home falling down
drunk."
"I remember drinking some really good punch,
and there were a lot of frat boys there from our corresponding fraternity. There was some dancing..." she paused,
scrunching her forehead up in thought.
"But I don't remember much after I became the filling part of a
sandwich between one of the sisters and one of the frat boys."
"Do you know who the frat boy was?"
Felicia shook her head. "I would probably recognize him if I saw
him again... maybe, but I don't know. I
was pretty wasted. Why?"
"What's the next thing you remember?"
"Waking up here the next morning praying to
die from the hangover I had."
Simone had sighed and embraced Felicia a little
tighter. "I think you were more
than drunk, Lish. I think you were under
the influence of roofies." She
hesitated when Felicia flinched in her embrace.
"Sweetheart, I think you were raped."
Felicia stiffened then collapsed, her breathing
rapid and shallow. "God, Simmy...
what am I gonna do now? I can't be
pregnant – my father'll kill me."
"Let me worry about that, Lish. We'll figure something out together."
A month later, Felicia was dead – an overdose of
barbiturates and alcohol after an abortion Simone had learned about after the
fact.
That had solidified the anger and animosity
towards Sara in Simone's heart, and Sara learned very quickly how to bite back
as hard as she could in self-defense.
************
Simone came back to the present when she realized
Sara was puttering around quietly in the kitchen. Her anger grew exponentially and before it
could manifest itself physically, Simone snatched her jacket from its peg by
the door and rushed out into the cold, stormy night.
Sara watched her go, knowing no amount of
interference from her would be welcome and would probably, in all actuality,
lead to a physical confrontation. She
recognized the signals from the times they had been close to violence before,
feeling the tension that had been in Simone's tall frame echoed in her
own. She wondered which part of their
drama Simone had been remembering and let her mind trace back to the more
recent altercation that had ultimately brought them to this time and place.
After her senior year, Sara had left Simone behind
and transferred to a different school to get her MBA. It had been so peaceful not to be constantly
exposed to vitriolic tirades and Sara found herself relaxing and enjoying her
last year of college. When she was done,
graduating with honors, her father had offered her a year's sabbatical in
Europe before coming home to assume some of the financial responsibility for
Wainwright Enterprises.
So she had taken him up on his offer and gone off
to explore the Old World before settling down in the new one.
On her first day at work, she'd had the distinct
displeasure of running into Simone Marcone... literally. She was coming out of her father's office and
turned to say something to her father with a smile as she exited. With her focus on Billy instead of the
hallway, she plowed into the body coming around corner with a hot cup of
coffee. She started to apologize, only
to freeze when she recognized the voice cursing under her breath.
"Simone?"
The dark head jerked up, disbelieving her
ears. When blue eyes met green, Simone's
expression went cold, then blank. She
didn't answer, but simply stepped around Sara without a word and went into an
office further down the hallway. Sara
turned back to her father who had come to the door just as Simone had walked
off.
"You two know each other?"
Sara nodded slowly. "We've met," she stated but she
didn't add anything else. Billy looked at her slowly, trying to gauge her
feelings but her face remained impassive.
Finally he nodded.
"Good.
I think the two of you will make a great team on some new projects we
have coming up soon," ignoring their interaction. "Now go settle in; I'll give you a few
days to get your feet under you and then I'll bring you up to speed. I think you'll like it here, honey. I’m glad you're home." He reached an arm around her shoulders and
hugged her to him.
"Me too, daddy – thanks."
Billy had been true to his word and started putting
them together on assignments. At first
things had been tense, but Simone and Sara had kept their distance, speaking
through aides and subordinates.
Eventually, however, they found it necessary to interact with one
another and that led to their first big blowout... things picking up where they
had left off over two years before.
For over a year this went on, with each fight
becoming a little more volatile... a little uglier. And yet it never crossed into the personal –
always focusing their anger on the aspects of their jobs that continued to
bring them into conflict.
Then one night... it all changed.
The building was empty except for the two of them
and Sara had found a number of overcharges in the budget Simone was supposed to
be working under. She huffed and got up
to confront her.
"Simone, what the hell is wrong with you that
you can't manage to complete a project under budget??" she asked after
blowing into the room without knocking.
"Do you know how to knock, Miser?? The door was closed for a reason. So get out."
"I don't think so, Bleeder. I am damn sick and tired of going through
this every single time we have to work together. None of the rest...."
"I don't care about the rest," Simone
grated as she rose and leaned over the desk.
"I do the job Billy pays me to do.
Deal with it!"
"Who the hell do you think you are?"
"I know who I am... do you?"
"What the... why don't you grow the fuck
up?!?"
Simone's eyes actually grew colder and her jaw
clenched almost painfully tight. "I
did that already... the night I found my cousin's dead body in her bed after
she committed suicide for being raped and having an abortion of the pregnancy
the rape caused. All because I told her
your sorority was the best to rush," tears filling her eyes but Simone
refused to allow them to fall.
"It's your fault she died as much as it is mine."
Sara's eyes widened as she realized what Simone
was talking about. "Felicia Marcone
was your cousin," she stated flatly.
"Oh God... I didn't realize....
Simone, you have to believe it wasn't my fault. I would have never...."
"The real shame of it is that I could have
loved you, Sara. I did love
you." Without another word, Simone
snatched her purse from her desk and walked to the door. "I can't live like this anymore. I'll turn in my two week notice
tomorrow." Sara wrapped a hand
around Simone's arm only to hesitate at the look of loathing Simone turned
towards her. "Don't," Simone
commanded in a biting tone.
Sara slackened her grip but didn’t release Simone
completely, her own ire coming to the fore.
"Don't you!" she countered fiercely. "You don't get to just walk away!! What gives you the right to accuse me of
something like that without allowing me to defend myself?? What gives you the right to make that kind of
declaration to me and then just walk out??"
Simone removed Sara's hand from her arm
none-too-gently though she took care not to do any real damage. "Goodbye, Sara."
Sara remembered how much those words and all her
discoveries that evening in Simone's office had shown her... how much they
hurt. Simone had successfully avoided
her for the entire first week. Then they
had woken up alone on a wild part of the ranch, the victims of a kidnapping to force
them to resolve their differences with one anther, and she remembered all too
well how *that* turned out.
Sara started when the door slammed open, admitting
the snow-covered, frozen form of Simone.
Sara moved to help her, only to be stopped by Simone's voice.
"Leave.
Me. Alone."
"No, Simone... not this time. Not ever again."
"Dammit, Miser...."
Sara cupped the frozen face in her hands. "No, Simone... not any more. My name is Sara and it is time we settle
things between us."
Simone didn't move, but Sara felt her slump in
capitulation. Gently, she removed her
icy outerwear, hanging it up carefully to dry before leading Simone to her
bed. "Lay down, Simone. I'll fetch the extra blankets and fix you
some tea. Then we'll talk."
Simone closed her eyes and rolled onto her side
away from Sara, wishing it would all just go away. Sara bit her lip and pulled the cover up
around her, then moved to the kitchen.
She could use a cup of tea herself.
************
The whistle of the teakettle brought Simone out of
the light doze she had fallen into. She
blinked open burning eyes, wondering just what she'd done in a previous life to
have warranted such a crappy present one.
She closed her eyes again, rubbing them to alleviate the itching and
sighing when she felt Sara sit on one side of the bed.
"You probably need to sit up to drink
this. I added a dash of milk, but if you
need anything else...."
Simone turned over onto her back and slid into a
sitting position braced against the wall.
She tucked the covers up under her armpits and accepted the cup from
Sara... or trying to – only to realize her hands were still too stiff to bend.
"Sorry," Simone mumbled, lips stiff as
well. She shivered.
Sara bit her lip and rose, setting their tea on the
counter before looking at the fireplace.
"Will you trust me?"
Simone held her eyes for a long moment before nodding and Sara felt
exposed to the core. She took the trust
with a relieved sigh and moved the couch against the bar before crossing back to
the bed. She reached up and jerked the
mattress from the top bunk, grunting with the awkwardness and weight when it
fell to the floor.
Simone watched with interested eyes, her curiosity
greater than she wanted to admit. Sara
dragged it over to the fireplace, putting it as close as she dared. Then she replaced the blankets and added the
extras before beckoning Simone.
Understanding that she would be immensely warmer
closer to the fire, Simone pushed the covers aside and shivered hard before
standing and walking slowly to the nest Sara had just created. She shivered again and slid under the covers,
allowing Sara to tuck her in.
Sara grabbed their tea and motioned to the empty
side of the mattress. "Do you
mind?"
"No... please," she croaked out before
clearing her throat. "Thank
you."
"Are you ready to talk now?"
"If I say no, will you leave it alone?"
"Simone, we need to...."
"Why, Miser??? Why do we need to do anything? We've already moved on and found new
lives. We only need to get along well
enough to survive here until spring."
Her voice was tired, but there was an edge of sadness and remorse in her
tone. "We never got along – what
happened with Felicia just pushed it all over the line for me and there's no
going back from that."
Silence for several long heartbeats. Then Sara put her tea on the floor and
slipped from the bed, towering over Simone with fury in her green eyes. "First of all - my name is SARA... not
MISER. If you need help remembering it,
I can have it tattooed to your forehead.
Secondly, how dare you?!? How
dare you assume... what gives you the right to think you can continue to make
decisions that affect both of us without even talking to me!! This affects me too!!"
The rage was warming and Simone welcomed the strength
it lent to her as she stood to face Sara.
"How dare I???" Blue
eyes glowed with her anger and she let her mouth run without considering her
words. "I'm not the one who
pretended to be someone else in college!
'Sara Carrington'?? Who the hell
was Sara Carrington?? And I'm not the
one who had to come home to work for Daddy!!"
"No... you ran away from your 'Family' didn't
you??" she sneered. "Organized
crime a little too dirty for you, Bleeder?
Is that why you tried to do something legitimate?"
"Don't you dare...!!"
"Oh... it's all right for you to rip into me,
but not for me to retaliate?? Grow the
fuck up, Simone - if you can't run with the big dogs... stay the hell on the
porch!"
Unexpectedly, Simone broke into course, bitter
laughter. "You think you're a big
dog??" She dropped back onto the
mattress gracelessly shaking her head.
"Well, I suppose when you're the Queen Bitch...."
With a roar, Sara launched herself at Simone. Simone caught her and rolled them over until
she was on top of Sara, looking down into green eyes that darkened under her
stare. Their breathing was erratic and
they froze. Then Sara pushed Simone off
of her and rolled out of the bed.
"I hate you, Simone Marcone," Sara said
flatly as she turned her back to Simone.
"I don't know why I even bothered trying – you don't give a
shit." She moved to the window and
looked out on the white darkness beyond the glass. "So we'll do things your way – we only
have to survive til spring, right?"
Simone gasped as the pain Sara's words caused her
lanced through her body and came to rest in her heart. She felt the darkness settle around her,
making her colder than she had ever been.
************
The silence was oppressive and Simone felt like
she was drowning under the weight of it.
For seven days, Sara hadn't spoken a single word. She had acted as though Simone was a complete
non-entity and it was driving Simone crazy.
Sara kept to her chores, hunting on days when it was clear and helping
to keep the wood pile stocked. Laundry
took up nearly a day on its own. The rest of her time she spent reading and
writing, taking pictures occasionally when time and weather allowed.
For her part, Simone cooked and did her share of
the wood cutting, taking care of her laundry and finding various chores around
the house to fill her time while Sara was out.
When they were indoors together, she spent her free time sketching and
drawing. More and more she found her
pencil drawing the woman she'd cut herself off from and it angered her, but
this time, her anger was directed at herself.
Simone couldn't figure it out – she had finally
accomplished what she'd set out to do.
Sara hated her with the same intensity that Simone felt. And yet all she felt was angry and incomplete
within herself. It wasn't supposed to be
like this... was it?
On the morning of the eighth day after their fight
– several weeks into their stay and yet months from their release date – Simone
waited for Sara to set out hunting before she left the cabin as well, headed in
the opposite direction. Although she
didn't for a minute believe that Sara would deliberately shoot her no matter
how she felt, Simone was all too aware that accidents happen and usually in a
single instant of inattention.
She headed out to an overhang she'd discovered
during her first walkabout. She'd been
thrilled to find it and had used it as an escape anytime she needed to get away
– as long as there wasn't a blizzard happening.
Simone looked around, grateful for the blue skies and started climbing
up to her plateau.
Despite the cold, Simone smiled as she reached the
spot, looking over the mountains and valleys that surrounded her. The view was breathtaking and Simone felt the
peace of it invade her soul. For hours
she sat there, simply breathing. Only
when the sun started to slip below the shorter mountain did Simone realize how
long she'd been sitting there and she rose to make her way back to the cabin.
Her stomach growled and she realized it had been a
long time since breakfast. She sighed,
glad the trip home was downhill. Simone
knew she'd have to rebuild the fires, but she just couldn't bring herself to
care.
Simone crossed the threshold just as dusk settled
over the cabin, noting immediately that the fires were lit and Sara was sitting
on the couch writing. The scent of stew
floated through the air and Simone's stomach growled again in appreciation.
"Smells good." Sara didn't comment – didn't even acknowledge
Simone's presence. Simone pulled off her
jacket and hung it by the door. Then she
moved to the kitchen area and scooped up a bowlful of fragrant stew. "You want some?"
Sara continued to ignore her and Simone sighed
loudly. She placed her bowl and spoon firmly
on the counter with a loud thump, then came around to stand in front of
Sara. She snatched the pad out of Sara's
hand, causing her to stand up. Her eyes
blazed then dropped to the floor.
"What the fuck...? Give it back, Bleeder."
"No."
"Damn you, Simone! Give it back and leave me alone. That's what you wanted. That's all I want now. Just leave me alone."
"No.
You said we needed to talk."
"You didn't want to – I decided to respect
that. So give me my stuff and leave me
the hell alone."
"No. I
can't stand this anymore."
"Tough – you made your choices. Live with them." Sara snatched the notepad away from Simone's
slack hands and walked over to her bunk, crawling in and turning her back to
Simone. Simone's shoulders slumped in
defeat, but she let Sara go because she was right. She had caused the situation – she would have
to be the one that fixed it.
************
"I was twelve years old when I went to live
with Sal and Carmena," Simone said softly into the silence hours
later. "Mama and Papa died in a
plane crash and Sal and Carmena assumed responsibility for my care." She heard Sara shift quietly in her bunk and
hoped she was listening. Simone had decided
that the only way to fix the situation of her own making was to talk to Sara
until she was willing to listen or willing to talk. Either way, it was the best idea she'd been
able to come up with, so she took a deep breath and continued speaking.
"I was terrified – I had never been away from
my parents before and I was old enough to understand how permanent this
was." Simone smiled sadly in
memory. "Carmena immediately took
me under her wing, making sure the boys didn't tease." She chuckled and waited. After an interminable time, Sara's curiosity
got the best of her.
"What?"
Simone smiled – first hurdle crossed. "Actually, Carmena did worse. She forced them to take dance and deportment
lessons with me. They blamed me at
first... thought it was my idea for us all to be doing 'girly' things
together. Then they found out the truth
– that Carmena wanted them to take them and was using me... the only girl in
the family... as an excuse to do it. It
was comical – none of us wanted to be there.
The boys and I actually bonded because of that. It made Carmena happy, though I don't think
she has ever realized exactly *why* we bonded."
"Do you have a lot of cousins?" Sara
asked after another long silence.
"All told?
Yeah... Sal had five brothers and one sister. Each brother had three to five sons – Sal had
five."
"Was it hard?
Going from being an only child to one of six, I mean?"
Simone gave it some thought. "Not like you'd think. I missed my folks terribly – I still do. But I had my own space and the boys were good
to leave me alone when I needed it. Once
we bonded, I had my own personal bodyguards... whether I liked it or not,"
her tone wry.
Sara chuckled lightly. "Made dating tough, huh?"
"You have no idea. Carmena said I was lucky that I never had an
awkward stage." Simone
snorted. "I had to become a bookworm
in self defense. No one bothered me
after that and the boys didn't have to play protector." She sighed and Sara waited. "I know they meant well – hell, they
were probably under orders from Sal to take care of me. But they tended to go overboard a
little."
"So you hid your light behind a bushel, so to
speak?"
"So to speak.
It was better than having them beat up boys who looked at me a little
too long."
"What about the girls who did?" Sara
asked bluntly. "You can't tell me
they didn't notice."
"I dunno... I tried not to be noticed by
anyone or to be aware of anything beyond my studies at that point in my
life. It made things less
complicated."
It was Sara's turn to snort. "I'll bet." She rolled over, ready to end the
conversation before Simone started asking questions she wasn't certain she
wanted to share the answers to anymore.
Despite Simone's obvious effort to make things right between them by
opening up a little, Sara was still angry and hurt. "Goodnight, Bleeder," she stated
firmly, closing her eyes and blocking Simone's sigh from her
consciousness. Then her eyes popped open
again when Simone replied.
"Goodnight, Sara."
************
The following morning the temperature in the cabin
had dropped severely and Simone was shaking so hard before she reached the
fireplace that she couldn't grasp the wood properly. The sound of it crashing to the floor brought
Sara sitting upright in her bunk, looking at Simone with baleful eyes in the
instant it took her to register the profound cold.
"What the hell?" She climbed carefully out of the bed and
shivered violently when the cold of the floor seeped through her socks. She crossed to the fireplace and gazed at
Simone. "You all right?"
"Y... yeah... it j... just slipped – m... my
f... fingers froze. Sorry, I d...didn't
m... mean to w... wake you."
"Let me help," Sara said, a cold chill
running up and down her spine.
"Damn... why is it so cold in here?"
Simone shook her head. "I... d...dunno," clenching her jaw
to keep her teeth from chattering. They
lifted the wood from either end and dropped it into fireplace. A second piece and Sara knelt to pack tender
between the pieces with shaking hands.
Simone snatched up the striker and with supreme effort managed to start the fire. Sara snatched
the blankets off their beds and handed Simone's to her before wrapping hers
around herself and sitting as close to the fire as she could manage.
For several minutes they sat shaking and shivering
silently, unable to do more than grit their teeth together to keep them from
trembling. Slowly... very slowly, the
room started to take on a hint of warmth and Simone unclenched the muscles that
had frozen painfully from the cold until she could move. She rose from her place beside the warm
fireplace and hobbled to the kitchen with a single piece of wood, still wrapped
in her blanket.
“I d... don’t get it,” she mumbled to herself,
thrusting the wood into the still warm oven.
“I b... banked the fires last n... night j... just like I... I always
d... do.” She stirred the ashes and
breathed a sigh of relief when the wood caught flame almost immediately.
“Down draft,” Sara replied succinctly through
clenched teeth.
Simone shook her head and put the kettle on to
heat. Knowing it would be a few minutes,
she moved back to the fireplace, taking her place opposite Sara on the stone
ledge. She didn’t speak – she wasn’t
sure what to say after the conversation of the previous evening.
When the kettle began to whistle, both women were
warm enough to shake off their blankets.
Simone went to pour up their tea and Sara took the blankets back to the
bed. And so they began their normal routine
for the day....
... or what would have been normal had not both of
them immediately headed outside for the woodpile as soon as they finished their
tea and they were sufficiently dressed.
Without words, they immediately settled into a pattern. Together they moved the large log into place
and they took turns cutting it into small pieces to be chopped and split. When the pieces were the correct size, they
moved them indoors – first into the cabin and then into the shed.
By the time lunch arrived, they had made some
progress and were glad for a bit of a break.
After a short lunch, they returned to their work with still no words
spoken between them. There didn’t seem
to be a need for them. First Sara would
cut and Simone would carry and stack, then they would alternate. By the time darkness fell, they’d made a huge
dent in the logs Sal had had felled for them.
“I found something yesterday while you were gone,”
Sara announced briefly as they entered the cabin near sunset. She motioned Simone to join her near the
cellar door. “I don’t know how we missed
this before.” They went down into the
cellar, but instead of staying in the main area, Sara led Simone into the
darkest corner and leaned against the wall.
The wall shifted and revealed a little cubbyhole. Simone looked at Sara expectantly, then
realized the darkness hid her expression.
“What is it?”
Sara shrugged, a motion Simone could feel due to
their current closeness. “I don’t know –
I wasn’t going to go in here by myself.”
“Good girl,” Simone muttered almost
inaudibly. Sara started to stiffen,
thinking she was being pandered to before understanding the tone of concern in
Simone’s voice. She put the thought away
for later study. She was still mad at
Simone, right? Simone’s voice broke into
Sara’s thoughts. “Do you want to
investigate?”
Sara shook her head. “No... not now.”
“All right,” Simone agreed amenably, wondering at
Sara’s hesitation. She took Sara’s hand,
a little surprised that she didn’t immediately jerk away, though Simone noticed
that Sara refrained from clasping her hand more firmly than necessary
either. “C’mon. I need to start dinner.” Sara removed her hand from Simone’s to climb
the ladder.
“No, not tonight, Bleeder. We can eat sandwiches – we busted our asses out
there today,” she added as she emerged from the cellar. “If you’re as tired as I am....”
Simone nodded.
“I’d rather crawl into that tub and relax for a while.”
“Go ahead.
I’m going to lay down on the couch for a few.”
Silence fell again, but this time, there was a
little less tension between them. Not
much... but a start.
************
“Why Miser?” Sara asked much later that night when
they were curled up into their own beds.
She couldn’t stop the hurt that crept into her voice and she hardened
her tone to keep the pain the moniker caused her out of her words. “It’s not true! I am not stingy and selfish!”
“It needled you,” Simone replied simply after a
moment of silent thought. “You were
mocking me with Bleeding Heart, so I figured I’d return the favor.”
“But you *are* a bleeding heart, Simone... or you
were! You fell for every cause that came
along – always involved in some sort of protest or other... whatever cause was
hot on campus that week.”
“No I wasn’t,” Simone returned quietly. “I had a few volunteer activities, but they
were the same activities my entire college career.” She shrugged, and though Sara couldn’t see
the movement, she heard the change in Simone’s tone. “They’re the same things I support now.”
“Oh... I thought....”
“You thought what?” Simone prompted when the
silence dragged on too long.
Sara sighed.
“It doesn’t matter – I was apparently incorrect. Besides, I knew it aggravated you, and until
things turned nasty in our senior year, it was fun. It made you bristle up and get
defensive. Some of our best arguments
happened when I called you Bleeder.”
“You baited me intentionally?!”
Sara snorted.
“Of course I did – just like you did to me. It was part of the charm of our relationship
once.” Simone didn’t make a comment; she
knew Sara’s words for the truth. When
the quiet turned awkward, Sara cleared her throat. “Simone, why do you blame me for what
happened to Felicia? I never condoned
that sort of behavior... never would have allowed it to happen if I had known
what was going on.”
“Why didn’t you?”
A beat. “You were the chapter
president – why didn’t you know what was going on?? Wasn’t that part of your responsibility?”
Sara sat up, scrubbing her hands through her hair
in agitation. “You can’t do that, Simone
– you don’t get to lay all the blame for this at my feet!!”
“Why not?
Why the hell not??”
“That was never part of the initiation ritual and
you know that! Felicia was an adult – a
young adult, but an adult nevertheless when she rushed the sorority. I’m not saying what happened to her was her
fault,” forestalling Simone’s vehement protest.
“It wasn’t, and if I’d known about it, we would have done something...
anything... to find justice for her. But
Simone... it wasn’t my fault. And it
wasn’t your fault either.” Sara took a
deep breath. “What happened to Felicia
was a tragedy, but it wasn’t your responsibility and it wasn’t mine. That lies with jerk who raped her, Simone.”
“That doesn’t absolve you of your part of the responsibility,
Sara! You were the chapter president –
you should have been aware!”
“You’re right... I should have, but I wasn’t. I can’t change that. I can only live with the guilt I’ve had since
it happened and the added guilt of now knowing Felicia was someone important in
your life. I am sorry though – I’d fix
it if I could... no matter what it took.”
The silence which followed was only broken by
Simone’s harsh breathing, but inexplicably, it was less oppressive than it had
been before. Baby steps, but at least
they were making progress. The real
question was... progress towards what?
************
The next three days were clear and the two spent
as much time outside taking care of things as they could manage. Sara went hunting, determined to lay in as
many supplies as she could. Simone, on
the other hand, headed back to the woodpile knowing their continued survival
depended on the wood lasting them until warm weather or Sal arrived – whichever
came first. And Simone had serious
doubts that it was going to be enough.
So she fell to work with a will – dragging the big
logs across the snow to the chopping block and slowly turning them into
firewood.
There was silence between her and Sara again, but
although it was still uncomfortable, it was more thoughtful and less menacing
than it had been. At least the air did
not bristle when the two of them were in the same room and for that Simone was
grateful. She just hoped for continued
clear weather so she and Sara could maintain the space they’d found. It was easy to maintain a truce when they
were away from one another twelve hours a day and both of them were too
exhausted at night to do more than fall into bed and sleep until dawn.
Still, the weather couldn’t last and the morning
of the fourth day after their last conversation brought the sound of howling
winds and swirling snow as another blizzard passed over them. Simone slowly crawled from the bed, hissing
with the pain and residual ache her activities had caused. Sara did the same, sore and achy from the
amount of walking and climbing she’d had to do in the course of her
hunting.
Sara went directly to the fireplace to stoke it
while Simone moved into the kitchen to start breakfast. It didn’t take long and they were done with
morning chores and ablutions and had curled into opposite corners of the couch
to absorb the warmth while the storm rolled around them.
After a while, Sara rose and retrieved her writing
pad and pencil, resuming her seat and beginning to put her thoughts down on paper. It took a while, but eventually she noticed
Simone flexing her hands and chanced to wonder what had happened while she had
been out hunting during the day. But she
figured that Simone wouldn’t welcome her curiosity and she returned her focus
to the tablet in front of her. Given
their fragile truce, there was little else she could do, right?
Simone felt Sara’s eyes on
her but couldn’t bring herself to share her problem - namely that her hands
were stiff and swollen from the damage she had done to them augmenting the
woodpile. It had gotten progressively
worse over the course of the three days of hard labor, to the point the Simone
simply couldn’t hold a pencil and that bothered her more than she was willing
to let on. Her art was her life. So she closed her eyes and hoped Sara would
be smart enough to simply mind her own business.
She should have known
better.
Simone knew herself to be
drifting in and out of the twilight edges of sleep when she felt the tiniest touch
of silky fingertips every so gently exploring her hands. But it was Sara’s muffed gasp that brought
her eyes reluctantly open.
Sara didn’t say a word -
she saw no reason to disturb the delicate balance they had achieved between
them. Instead, she rose form her spot on the floor beside Simone and retrieved
the first aid supplies she needed. Then
she cleaned them carefully and bandaged, mindful of the damage that had been
inflicted on them. When her self-appointed task was completed, Sara stood and put
things away before moving back to her corner of the couch.
“Thanks, Sara,” Simone
said, closing her eyes again to keep the barrier between them. Sara gave her a long look before turning her
attention back to her writing. She never
even realized when the focus of her words changed, but she would... eventually.
************
“Do you realize that
Thanksgiving is this week?” Simone asked some time later. She’d fallen asleep after Sara had taken care
of her hands and had only just woken up.
She flexed her hands surreptitiously, then was forced to look down at
them. Whatever Sara had used on them had
worked wonders - they were still a bit stiff, but far less painful than they
had been mere hours before. Sara waited
until Simone looked up and met her eyes.
“Better?”
“Yeah... thanks.”
“So... Thanksgiving, huh?
“Yeah.
I don’t know why it occurred to me.
I was just thinking about how long we’d already been here - trying to
figure how long we might have left.”
“Not halfway yet,” Sara
commented, “but closer than when we started.
So,” before they could get into *that* discussion, “are we going to
celebrate?”
Simone shrugged. “Do we want to? I’m not sure we’ve got anything to be
thankful for, given our current circumstances.”
“Things could be worse,
but I’m willing to go along either way.
Thanksgiving wasn’t a big deal with my family for as long as I can
remember. Probably since my parents
divorce was less than amicable.”
“Let me guess... your
father drove your mother nuts.”
Sara snickered. “How’d you guess?”
“I’ve met your father,”
Simone responded dryly. “An exceptional
businessman but his interpersonal skills leave something to be desired.”
“Funny, my mother said
something similar.”
“What’s your mother like?”
Simone asked after a few minutes of silence.
She couldn’t have told why she asked, except that she thought Sara might
be willing to share. And Simone wasn’t
ready to study her reasons for wanting Sara to be willing to share things with
her.
Sara looked at Simone
speculatively, wondering what was behind the question. Simone met her gaze showing nothing but
genuine interest.
“You’d like her - she’s
frank and outspoken and secure in the person she is.”
“She sounds a little like
Carmena. They’d probably make great
friends.”
“Probably. She and my Grams got along better than Grams
ever did with my father, and he was her son.
I’ve about come to the conclusion that my mother married my father more
because Grams coveted her for a daughter-in-law and because Mom loved Grams
like her own mother than because of how she felt about Billy.”
“You don’t think she and
Billy loved each other?”
Sara pinched her lip in
thought. “I think they loved each other
- I think they still do to some degree, actually. I’m just not sure I think they were ever *in
love* with one another, if you know what I mean. At least, not as I understand ‘being in love’
to be. Sometimes I wonder if the only
passion between them was in their fighting.”
Her words fell into an
embarrassed silence as the same thought passed through both their minds. Kinda like us? They looked at one another and then looked
away. Simone cleared her throat, then
rose from the couch. “I think I’m gonna
go check out that little cubbyhole you found.
You wanna...?”
“Uh... yeah. Let me put my stuff away. We need a flashlight or something.” Simone hefted a lantern and Sara nodded her
approval. “Good choice.”
Sara tucked her notebook
and pencil under her pillow and returned to join Simone in the kitchen. Simone raised her eyebrow at Sara’s actions,
but she kept her comments to herself.
They were treading a fine line at the moment and Simone preferred not to
cross it... at least not for something so trivial. They could always find something real to
argue about later.
First, however, they were
going to go investigate whatever little surprise Sal had in store for them.
************
“This is making me a
little crazy,” Adrianne confided to Carmena as they sat at lunch together a few
days before Thanksgiving. “I’ve never
not known where Sara is... not like this anyway. Are you sure...?”
“Oh yes - Sal knows not to
put Simone in danger... for the memory of his dead sister as much as for his
own sake.” Carmena raised an eyebrow at
Adrianne. “She is the only daughter in
the family, just like her mother was and she’s like my own child. He doesn’t want to explain to me that
something has happened to her.” She
smirked just slightly. “He wouldn’t have
told me about the situation in the first place if I wouldn’t have noticed
Simone’s absence immediately.”
“He runs the town, but you
run him?”
“Something like that,”
Carmena chuckled. “Let’s just say he
knows what his limits are and that makes us both happy.”
Adrianne snorted. “I should have done that with Billy.”
“Bit of a wild card?”
“More than a bit. I can’t imagine what he was thinking when he
started all this. I mean, regardless of
what is or isn’t between our daughters, he should have known better than to
interfere. They’re grown women for God’s
sake! What did he hope to accomplish?”
“Have you asked him?”
“What?”
“Have you asked him? Come on, honey - how long were you married?”
“Too long,” Adrianne
commented with a sigh. “We were great in
bed - it was everything else we screwed up.
Communication was never our strong suit.”
“I hope our children can
figure that part out sooner rather than later.
Great sex can make up for a lot, but if they can’t communicate, it’s
going to be a very long few, lonely months for them.”
“I just hope they get this
resolved. I’d hate for all of this to
have been for nothing.”
Carmena nodded. “Agreed.
And with luck they’ll find the treats Sal left for them.”
“Oh?”
“He wouldn’t put them out
of touch for the holidays without giving them something to celebrate with.”
“Just an old softy at
heart?”
Carmena grinned. “Just remember you didn’t hear it from me.”
“Your secret’s safe with
me.” Dessert was served and they turned
their attention to other conversation.
************
The cubbyhole was still
open a crack when they made it down into the cellar. Simone passed Sara the lantern and led the
way to the dark space. “Wait,” Sara
commented, pushing her way forward to stand beside Simone. “We do this together.”
“We will, but one of needs
to hold the light while the other one opens the door. I figured I was better suited to open the
door,” motioning down the length of her body.
Sara narrowed her eyes and set the lamp on the floor to put her hands on
her hips.
“Are you making a crack
about my height or my physical condition??
Because I assure you....”
“Hey,” Simone relented,
holding up her hands. “I didn’t crack on
anything. Just because you’re sensitive
about your size....”
A growl was the only warning
Simone got before Sara was completely in her personal space. Before she could react, they fell against the
doorway, pushing through it as they fell to the ground.
“Oof!! What the hell?? Get off me!” Simone shouted as she pushed
Sara to one side, careful not to hurt her.
“Like I want to be here!”
Sara snarled, rolling with Simone’s motion to push her off, though she didn’t
rush to move any further away on her own.
Instead she looked around the deeply shadowed room. “Wow,” she said softly as she climbed to her
feet.
Simone rolled from her
back and pushed up to stand beside Sara, then she went out of the room to fetch
the lantern they’d left behind. She held it up to her eye level and they looked
around the small space. There were
shelves on one side with a few boxes of colorful ornaments, a roll of garland
and a small artificial tree. There were
a couple rolls of bright wrapping paper and some ribbons.
On the other side was a
small stash of dry groceries suitable for a holiday celebration. On top of the stack were two envelopes and
Simone reached for them, handing them to Sara.
Sara took one and passed the other back to Simone.
“Mine is from my father,”
she shared after ripping it open. “Yours
from Sal?”
Simone nodded and shifted
the lamp in her grip the read her note.
Simone, (it read)
I am hoping you discover this before the
holiday season, but I am banking on the fact that two women cooped up in the
small space this cabin is will snoop every possible crevice and corner. This was where your great-grandfather made
hooch and where we kept the good liquor when we were here.
I took the liberty of picking up a gift
or two that you might like to give to Sara if you have reached some sort of
equitable arrangement between you. If
not, you can leave them. They will mean
little to anyone else. They are in a box
marked with your name; the box is locked with your mother’s birthday.
I hope things are going well for you
both. I know this seems harsh, but
something had to be done to correct Wainwright’s interference. With luck, this will be enough, because we
both know you were unhappy coming back to the Family, despite your knack for
the business.
Be well, my dear. And remember that your aunt and I love you
very much.
Sal
Simone shook her
head. “Unfuckingbelievable.”
“No kidding.” Sara looking
at her own note.
My Dearest Sara, (it read)
I’m really not sure what to say to you
at this point. I never thought my effort to get you and Simone to see the truth
between you would become so convoluted and out of control. That was never my intention - all I wanted
was your happiness and now it is completely out of my hands - though I am
beginning to understand that it never was in them to begin with.
Be that as it may, I agree that drastic
measures are required to fix this situation and to that end I am not going to
prevent Sal Amici from taking whatever steps he feels are necessary to bring
this entire debacle to some sort of conclusion.
At this point I would be satisfied for you and Simone to simply survive
this ordeal intact and with some sort of civil truce.
You’re probably wondering why I didn’t
put a stop to this before it went this far - the truth is I think you and
Simone still have issues to work out before either of you can find the
happiness and peace you both deserve.
When this is all over, Sal has promised you will never have to
acknowledge one another again if that is what you decide to do. But it will be your choice... your decision -
yours and Simone’s.
We did agree that you shouldn’t be
denied the opportunity to celebrate the holidays if you chose to, so Sal has
arranged the trappings and trimmings and your mother and Sal’s wife Carmena put
together the makings of a nice holiday dinner.
At my request, Sal has included a gift for Simone in case you have
reached some sort of truce and want to give her something. It is in a box with your name on it and the
lock combination is your grandmother’s birthday. Totally your choice to give it to her, of
course, but it might be a nice gesture, especially if the two of you are
getting along.
Your mother will probably never forgive
me for any of this, but if it works, it will be worth it. Don’t fall into the same trap that I did. Nothing is worth the cost of holding on to
your anger, no matter the reason behind it.
See you in the spring.
Your loving father, Billy
Silence for a few moments
while they each considered the words they held, then the sound of crumpling
paper brought Sara’s head up abruptly to meet Simone’s eyes, flinching at the
fire burning brightly from them. She
cleared her throat gently.
“So, um... what do you
want to do?”
“Aside from killing Sal
from putting us into this ridiculous situation, you mean?” Sara nodded.
“Do you want to
celebrate?”
“No, not really,” Simone
answered honestly. She noticed the
almost imperceptible sag of Sara’s shoulders.
“Let’s see how we feel closer to the holiday. Right now, I’m just....”
“Really, really pissed?”
“Yeah - I’m tired of
feeling like we’re being manipulated.
And then Sal has the balls to say it’s for our own good. It’s okay... everything will be all right,”
stated in a pandering tone. “ARGH!” she
growled in frustration. “Why the hell
couldn’t they have just left it alone??
I wasn’t unhappy - were you unhappy?”
“Simone, we can worry
about all this later. And if we decide
to celebrate, it will be our choice... not theirs. What we do while we’re here is up to us - not
them. Don’t give them that kind of
power.”
“Why are you so calm about
this all of a sudden? What did your old
man say to you?” reaching for the paper Sara still held in her hand. Sara jerked her hand away.
“It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that now it is up to
us.” Simone turned thoughtful and Sara
cocked her head in question. “What?”
Simone shook her
head. “I’m not sure. I think I may have an idea.” She glanced around the room. “Sal said this used to be a hooch room. If that’s the case there should be another
room - some sort of communication room.”
“Why? What could they hope to reach out here? And
why hide it if only the men of the Family came out here to start with. Why not put it in the main room so there was
easy access?”
Simone grinned. “One of the things that has made my Family
the success that it is, is there is a certain level of paranoia involved in
everything. It keeps everyone on their
toes.”
“That explains a lot,”
Sara murmured. An arched eyebrow made
her clear her throat awkwardly. “Well, it
does,” she retorted defensively. “So
where would this room be?”
“If it exists? Somewhere
down here. There’s still plenty of space - the cellar only takes up half the
space upstairs.”
“So you want to look for
it now?” Twin growls met her question
before Simone could reply. “I guess that
would be a no,” Sara said with a chuckle.
“C’mon. Let’s go get something to
eat. If there is a radio room down here
somewhere, it’ll still be here tomorrow.”
Simone smiled and picked
up the lantern and Sara sucked in an unconscious breath at the picture she
made.
“Good idea. There’s always tomorrow,” she agreed. “Besides... I can’t believe Sal would make it
that easy, but I need to try.”
“I know... so do I. Now c’mon,” tugging gently on Simone’s hand,
mindful of their condition. Together
they left the cellar without a backward glance.
************
When tomorrow came, the
storm was still raging, so Sara and Simone decided to head back downstairs and
see if they could discover the elusive communications room. It didn’t take them long to get started - they
emptied out the small cubbyhole, then began searching for a hidden room.
Inch by inch they went,
scouring walls and shelves until Sara knocked a bottom shelf askew, causing the
back wall to swing open. She and Simone
exchanged glances and without a word, Simone lifted the lantern from the shelf
she’d placed it on and started towards the opening.
“Hang on a minute,
Simone. I found it - shouldn’t I get to
lead the way?” Sara asked with her hands on her hips.
Simone arched an eyebrow
and her lips quirked in amusement. “Does
it matter?”
“Yes. I want to go first!” Sara didn’t stomp her feet but her tone was
petulant enough to give that impression anyway.
Simone laughed which only caused Sara’s face to flush in anger and
embarrassment.
“Whine much?” Simone
taunted. Sara snatched the lantern from
Simone’s fingers, turning away and stepping into the room while biting her lip
to keep from gasping at the electricity she felt running through her system at
the touch. Then she realized belatedly
that what she thought was electricity between them was really electrical
current running through her body and she was helpless to stop it.
Simone took a few seconds
to process what was happening when Sara stopped walking and started convulsing
- her scream horrific. She didn’t stop
to think - she simply reacted without hesitation. In one long stride, she was at Sara’s side,
knocking her to the ground and away from whatever raw wire she’d had the
misfortune to touch. The action pushed
Sara off the wire, but it also caused the lantern to slip from her grasp,
crashing to the ground and shattering.
Simone watched in horror
as the kerosene rapidly spread and caught fire.
She jerked Sara up into a fireman’s hold and carried her out of the
room, snatching up the note that had been propped up on the ancient
equipment. As soon as she was out of the
radio room, she placed Sara on the floor, searching in the darkness for the
keystone shelf to shut the door once more before the flames could escape.
She heard it close with a
whoosh, relishing the silence over the flames’ crackling... until she realized
there was only one set of breathing - hers.
It was harsh and rasping and she held it for a long moment, then she
started searching for Sara’s pulse.
Nothing.
“Oh no!” Simone screamed
as she slammed her fist into Sara’s chest.
“No way, goddamn it!” starting chest compressions to force Sara to have
a regular heartbeat. “You don’t get to
die on me, Miser! You don’t get to leave
me here by myself!! Breathe, damn you -
BREATHE!!”
A long inhalation followed
by a hacking cough and a moan and Simone cradled Sara’s body into her and held
on. For her part, Sara clung to Simone,
breathing in her scent and doing her best to figure out just what the hell had
happened. All she knew for certain was
that Simone had been cursing at her and she hurt like a mother after
twenty-four solid hours of labor without drugs.
After several moments of
silence filled with nothing but the sound of their breathing, Sara gingerly
tried to sit up. Simone sat up with her,
never releasing her gentle hold.
“You all right?” Simone
whispered into Sara’s sweat-soaked hair.
“What happened?” Sara’s voice
was hoarse and she wondered why it hurt so badly to speak. “Why is it so dark in here?”
Simone cleared her
throat. “You stepped on a live
wire. I’m not sure what it was connected
to - a battery or something. I didn’t
have time to look; I was too busy knocking you off the current. Unfortunately, the force of impact knocked
the lantern from your hand and when it shattered...”
“A fire started,” Sara
finished breathily.
“Yeah. I closed the door to extinguish the flames
and I can’t smell any smoke, but I dunno if it actually worked or not.”
“We should probably
check.”
Simone shook her
head. “Let me get you back upstairs and
then I’ll come back down here and....”
“No, Simone! I’m not letting you....”
Simone stood and scooped
Sara into her arms, the adrenaline still rushing through her system. “You don’t have a choice,” gritting her teeth
together and holding a weakly struggling Sara against her as she pushed through
the darkness towards the cellar steps.
“You nearly fucking died on me and I’m not putting you in danger
again!! You scared the shit outta me,”
she said more softly.
Sara reached a trembling
hand up and tenderly cupped the face she couldn’t see. “Simone....”
“No, Miser. I can’t do this - I can’t watch you die. That’s too much to ask of me.”
“But it’s all right for me
to watch you, is that what you’re saying, Simone??” deliberately calling her by
name. Disbelief colored Sara’s voice,
but she ceased her struggles as Simone slowly made it up the stairs she had
crafted at some point while Sara was out hunting. Only now did Sara recognize her effort and
realize how thankful she was Simone was gifted with her hands, not even pausing
for a suggestive leer at the thought.
Simone carefully placed
Sara on the couch and clasped their hands together. “Sara, I know you don’t like me; I don’t
blame you for that, but please trust that I’m looking after both our interests
- that’s what I do now. The truth is
you’re too weak right now to help me if there is a problem and I honestly don’t
know if I can do what I might need to do if I am worried about you collapsing
again. I won’t be but a minute or two...
promise.”
Sara’s response was as
perfect as it was unexpected. She leaned
forward, capturing Simone’s lips with her own even as she tangled her hands in
the dark hair to pull Simone even closer.
Simone, taken completely by surprise with Sara’s actions, fell into the
kiss, literally. Her hands wrapped
smoothly around Sara’s waist to rest lightly on her ass... only to clench the
firm muscles reflexively when Sara’s tongue snuck out to trace Simone’s full
lips. She responded to Sara’s quest,
opening her mouth in invitation and moaning when their tongues met for the
first time.
The kiss went on for an
eternity and was over in a heartbeat. Sara
eased away from Simone slowly, nipping and licking with lingering tenderness
before leaning their foreheads together while breathing one another’s air. Finally able to speak, Sara pulled back just
enough to look into Simone’s deep blue eyes.
“Not liking you has never
been my problem, Simone,” Sara confessed shyly.
“You go do what you need to do, but be quick. Otherwise I *will* come after you. And you call me if you need help.”
“I will,” Simone promised,
tracing Sara’s lips with her fingers for a brief moment. Sara’s eyes fluttered closed and her
breathing hitched again before she caught Simone’s slender fingers in her own.
“Go,” Sara commanded in a
voice that was low and husky from more than the screaming she had done
earlier. “Go,” she repeated, “before I
can’t let you go alone.”
Simone lifted their hands
to her lips, brushing a kiss to Sara’s knuckles before releasing her grip. “Be right back.”
“Damn well better be,”
Sara muttered, though it was loud enough to garner her a brief, flash of a
smile before Simone disappeared into the darkness once more, this time holding
a candle to light her way. “Keep her
safe,” Sara murmured prayerfully then closed her eyes, willing the time to pass
quickly.
************
It was dark when Sara
opened her eyes again and she was alone.
She sat up slowly, blinking her eyes and trying to figure out what time
it was and where the hell Simone was.
Then she realized that it wasn’t actually dark - the storm had simply
worsened. That, however, did not explain
Simone’s continued absence.
Sara rubbed her chest,
wincing at the ache and wondering what exactly Simone had needed to do to keep
her from dying. She took as deep a breath as she dared and expelled it slowly,
then stood and headed for the cellar.
She went down the stairs
carefully, seeing what appeared to be a hint of light coming from the little
cubby. Sara called out, “Simone?” The effort hurt - she had only spoken in
whispers since she’d come to in Simone’s arms some time earlier. “Simone?!”
There was no answer and Sara moved as rapidly as she could in the dark
to reach the door, pushing it further open and slipping inside the near
darkness. “Simone?” realizing that the
bare light she could see was actually coming from the radio room.
Again there was no answer,
but this time Sara heard Simone’s muttered cursing and she stepped into the
dimly lit room, finding it to be quite bright after the darkness of the cellar.
“Ow, goddamnit! Fuck, that hurt!”