Well. She got up and circled the desk, going out into the living room and passing the big, new, double sized dog bed with it's snoozing occupants. “Ker?”
“Yees?” Kerry half turned, briefly shifting her attention from her wok to her partner. “Nothing yet?”
Dar shook her head, and came over, peering over Kerry's shoulder at the stove. “Yum.”
“Well, maybe they did figure it out.” Kerry went back to stir frying. “I sure hope so.”
“Mm.” Dar moved aside her hair and kissed the back of her neck. “Me too.” She moved away and went to the cupboard, removing a pair of plates and setting them down on the counter. “What I don't want is them turning this around and blaming their screwup on my design.”
Kerry glanced at her, then back at the stove. “Could they do that?”
Dar added two glasses to the plates. “Well, it's unconventional.” She admitted. “But that was the whole point. I wanted to make something that set us apart from the rest of the pack.”
“Hon, you did document all that.” Kerry said, as she added a pile of cooked rice noodles into the wok and tossed them with the rest of the ingredients. “It was part of the sales portfolio. I think if they want to bitch about it, they also have to go back and discount all the money they made selling your design.”
“Yeah, I know.” Dar got a bottle of sparkling cranberry apple juice from the refrigerator and poured both glasses full. “But it can make for some really bad press right when I'm up on Capitol Hill showing off another unconventional design.”
Kerry sorted the stir fry out and divided it across both plates. “We've survived bad press.” She remarked. “We survived your vice president of global operations being exposed as your lover who threw her father to the wolves. On national television.”
Dar paused, then chuckled wryly. “Good point.”
“C'mon, Dixiecup.” Kerry picked up the plates and carried them into the dining area, putting them down at the two places closest to one end of the table. “Just let it roll.”
Dar put the glasses down and took her seat on the short end of the table, while Kerry took the chair to her right. “Not much choice in the matter. Balls in their court right now.” She picked up her chopsticks and maneuvered them into the stir fry, which seemed to have shrimp and scallops in it, along with sauce covered vegetables of some kind.
Baby corns and bamboo shoots, Dar decided, munching on them. They both tasted more or less the same, with the sweet and spicy sauce on them. “This is really good.”
“I'm glad you like it. I threw some different things in this time.” Kerry smiled. “They had fresh scallops at the market.”
“Yum.”
“Yap.”
Dar looked down, to find Mocha standing on his hind legs, his front paws scrabbling at her leg. “Excuse me, buddy. You got dinner already.” She tapped him on the top of his little dome shaped skull. “Get down.”
Chino came over, tail wagging. “Growf!”
“Neither of you get any of this.” Dar said. “You'll be sick all over the tiles.”
“How about a walk down the beach after dinner?” Kerry suggested. “It's nice out.”
“Sure.”
And so they did, getting Mocha's little puppy harness on him, but letting Chino free as they walked across the garden and let themselves out the back gate, and down the rock lined path to the water.
It was a nice night. Dar looped the leash over her wrist and slowed her pace, gazing out at the dark Atlantic ahead of them. There were lights on the horizon – a cargo ship, maybe – and the sky overhead was brilliant with stars. They strolled along the beach front in companionable silence, only the snuffling of the dogs and the soft hiss of the waves to be heard.
After a while, Kerry cleared her throat. “So, you saw those guys in the lot before we left?”
“Yeah.” Dar agreed. “I don't think they made any trouble, or we'd have probably heard.”
“Mm.”
“They're so angry.” Kerry remarked, in a thoughtful tone. “Isn't there anything the government can do for them?”
Dar exhaled, and walked along for a few paces. “You know, the problem is they don't like to showcase the fact that people who go into the military can come back in pieces. Either physically, or in their heads. Screws up recruitment.”
Kerry peered at her in some astonishment.
“They want their funding to go to great new weapons, and sexy hardware.” Her partner continued. “Not paying medical bills. That's why it's so hard to get them to admit to being responsible for things like PTSD. It's also why they don't like to admit stuff like that happens, because watching a soldier break down in tears and not be able to shoot is embarrassing to them, and, really bad for morale.”
“That's...”
“Crappy. Sure.” Dar agreed. “But it's universal. Look at New York. All those people, those workers and first responders having health issues and absolutely no one wants to say it's because they were down there breathing asbestos and ground glass for months.”
Kerry thought about that for a few steps. “Your dad was so insistent we wear those masks.”
“He knows.”
Kerry sighed. “Humanity sucks sometimes.”
“So I think they could and probably are doing some things to help those guys.” Dar spoke up again. “But I think maybe it's not what they want to have done for them. Or not what they expect.” She clarified. “I think they want what they see everyone else have, a home, a car, a job.. whatever – but there's no way to get them from where they are to there.”
Long speech, for Dar. “So they come from having this job.. I mean, the military is like a job, right? You get paid, and you are valued for what you're doing, and they feed you and house you, then you come back here and...” She lifted a hand and let it fall. “It doesn't translate.”
“Yeah.”
“Wow.”
“I mean, there's the GI Bill, and programs like that.” Dar said. “But you go in and you're infantry, like those guys were. What do you do with that when you come back here? Even if they'll pay for you to go to college, you're' starting from scratch, and you still need to live when you're in school.”
“Wow.” Kerry said, again. “I never thought about that.”
“I saw that, when I was growing up.” Her partner admitted. “Me.. I always had skills.” She said, straightforwardly. “I knew that. I had a technical aptitude, and I was smart. For me, coming back wouldn't have been that much of a problem. I could find a job.”
“You started working when you were what.. fourteen?” Kerry said. “So I get that. I was talking to my mother once about you, and going into the Navy, and she was just puzzled as to why you'd have wanted to, since you were so smart.” She looped her arm with Dar's. “But maybe these guys didn't have any other options but either go into the military, or flip burgers?”
“Maybe.” Dar said “But really, if you're skilled like I am, the military can be a good career. It's not a dead end, not for everyone.”
“Like Gerry.”
“Like Gerry. Or even my dad.”
Dar's Handspring rang, and she fished it out of her pocket. “Hey.” She said, after glancing at the caller ID. “What's up, Mark.”
“Okay, so I'm here at Dave and Buster's with Pete.” Mark said. “I ducked outside to call you so the noise wouldn't kill the reception.”
“If you're at Dave and Busters, is he celebrating? Everything squared away?”
Mark sighed. “I wish.” He said. “What a fucking mess. So, he met me here because he was afraid to even text me. The maniac over there told everyone if anyone leaked what went on they'd be fired, and then arrested.”