Parental Advisory Rating: L, AC

Break out those V-Chips, everyone!

Credits:

Created, Produced, Directed and Written:

Fanatic and TNovan

I wake up early, the sunlight streaming in the window hitting my eyes. Also, I have no incentive to stay in bed because Kels isn’t here. I don’t know what it is about her, but she makes our bedroom, our bed, a special place. Not just because of the amazing sex and the way she makes my skin burst into fire by her slightest touch, but for the peace I find there.

Unfortunately, that peace is two thousand miles away right now.

I stretch and pull on a pair of shorts and my Tulane sweatshirt. Quietly, I walk through the house, careful to not wake Cora’s two sons who are sleeping on the living room floor. I pause and look at the small boys, curled up next to one another. They remind me of my family. We resembled gerbils growing up, always climbing all over one another. I pull the blanket up over their shoulders and let them continue to sleep.

Stepping outside I am greeted by a beautiful sunrise, the sun hanging low in the New Mexico sky. A deep breath confirms that I am free of the pervasive New York smell of urine. I stretch for a few minutes and then take off on my morning run.

I head up the hillside. As I make my way, I notice that a number of the large boulders have markings painted on top of them. I alter my path to follow them, noticing that they lead up to a plateau.

Cora is seated there. She smiles at my arrival and waves me over. "Good morning."

I wipe my forehead off with my sleeve. "Good morning."

"Good run?"

I plop down beside her and stretch, not wanting to cramp up. "Great. This is beautiful country."

A wistful smiles crosses Cora’s lips. "It is. I like to believe that what we see here is little changed from what the Ancients saw. I know it isn’t quite true, but it makes me feel more connected to my ancestors."

"Makes sense. I feel that way when I go home, especially to my mother’s home in the bayou. Lots of history there and a definite sense of belonging."

She nods. "Exactly. When I come up here, I know who I am."

That must be nice. I look over the path I just ran up and notice that the markings on rocks form an intricate spiral pattern. "Wow," I whisper, without thinking.

"It’s to represent the flight path of an eagle. The only way you can see the design is from above." She pushes her hair back over her shoulders. "Most people live life on only one plane – they only see what is before and behind them, the north, south, east and west. They never take a look above. Never recognize the spirits. Nor do they honor the earth below, the giver of life, the foundation of us all. The petroglyphs draw our attention upwards, where it belongs."

I look up at the blue sky brightening above me.

"But, of course, the seventh direction is the one that most people never look in this lifetime."

"The seventh direction? What’s that?"

"Within. It is the hardest place to look and to honor." She climbs to her feet and begins walking back toward her home. "I’ll see you at breakfast, Harper."

* * *

"Miss Kingsley?" a large gentleman asks, holding his hand out to greet me.

I stand up and shake his hand, both of us slightly testing the other with the act. "Harper is fine," I murmur. I haven’t been called ‘Miss’ since I was I was in grammar school. And not often even then.

"You’ll call me Donald then," he replies, leading the way back to his office.

I had planned on doing that anyway, Donald, but, thanks for the offer. We finally come to the corner office, which is his, and take our seats. His is behind a massive oak desk, mine is a smaller Queen Anne style chair in front of it. Oh, if only intimidation tactics worked with me. "Donald, as you know, I am a producer with Exposure. Currently, we are investigating the claims of racial eco-terrorism made against your company by the Coyote Lake Navajo Indians. I was wondering what Geo-Tech had to say in reply."

He chuckles, holds his hands over his stomach and leans back in his leather chair. He is a man at ease, after all, both monetarily and in his conscience. "Racial eco-terrorism. That’s a new one. I hadn’t heard that before."

"Genocide is another term used."

"Well, I suppose using alarming words such as those helps their cause, in the short run. It certainly got your attention."

I narrow my eyes, not liking what he’s insinuating.

"Geo-Tech is an international company with a presence throughout North and South America. We have an impeccable safety record, as anyone can discover by doing a simple search. We’re known as a good operation, one that brings jobs and money into depressed areas."

"Depressed areas? Such as reservations and inner-city locales?"

This time he narrows his eyes at me, not liking my insinuation. "We have never been granted – nor would we seek – a permit to operate within a city, Miss Kingsley. Zoning ordinances simply do not permit it, and we do not see a need to challenge those ordinances when there are many viable alternatives."

"Alternatives such as non-U.S. lands?"

"We don’t store …" he pauses "if you consider the reservations to not be U.S. land, then, yes."

"The Navajos certainly do." I lean back in my chair. I learned long ago how to fill up a room with my presence. "So, how do you reply to the charge that you deliberately choose those of the lowest socioeconomic station for living near radioactive materials?"

"We don’t choose them, Miss Kingsley -"

Okay, he’s doing that to piss me off now. And it’s working. "Ms. Kingsley, if you must, Mr. Hayes."

"- but we simply search for sites that have the appropriate geological requirements, as well as population density. These sites are essentially self-chosen."

Yeah, self-chosen because only a few poor people live on them. Makes perfectly good corporate sense to me. "How do you answer charges that the material is inherently unsafe?"

"Those charges are made by people who are not scientists or who ignore scientific facts. There are three factors involved in safety – time, shielding and distance. Regarding time, the rods which are being stored have been out of service ten years already, which leaves them in a state where essentially no heat is discharged. The entire complex will contain less than one millionth than that of Chernobyl. Since the rods are solid waste, they are more stable and easily contained. Accidents would take place slowly, if they took place at all, over time, during which they could be detected and corrected.

"Regarding shielding, the rods will be stored in lead casks. Not only does lead protect things from Superman’s X-ray vision, but it also blocks gamma rays. It is a governmentally accepted storage device. And, finally, the distance that the rods will be from the general population is such that even being within two miles of the facility for ten minutes a day for an entire year will result in no more exposure than the average citizen receives in the course of their day-to-day activities." He drums his fingers on the desk. "I should point out that none of the Navajo families live closer than ten miles to the facility."

"What about the concerns of the tribe about the transportation of the materials across their lands? A concern, I should say, the state of New Mexico shares."

"Ms. Kingsley, in the fifty year history of nuclear power, there has never been a death resulting from the storage or transportation of nuclear rods. We’re a safer industry than construction, shipping or other manufacturing concerns. Those are facts. Not political rhetoric."

"Is that what you consider the tribe’s objections?"

"It’s not really the tribe’s objections, is it? It’s a portion of the tribe who lost a free vote over this issue. To me, this is an issue of sour grapes. Nothing more, nothing less. Unfortunately, these sour grapes are costing my company hundreds of thousands of dollars to stomp out." He smiles at his own use of analogy.

"And you’d be willing to sit down with one of our correspondents and discuss this issue?"

"Ms. Kingsley, I welcome the opportunity to set the record straight. I appreciate the plight of the Navajos, but, believe me, we’re the good guys here. We’re offering them economic advantage – cash for use of their land, jobs for their people. This is good for them. I’m happy to say that, on the record, off the record, any day."

"Then you’ll get your chance."

Ah, yes, Kels will just love this guy.

* * *

I drive back from Albuquerque and head for the reservation. Every Friday night is the scheduled meeting of the nation. It’s informal. They come together to have dinner, play games, talk, learn and – lately – debate. The issue of the storage facility has divided the nation. Cora told me that several clans won’t speak to one another civilly over the controversy. Bill Yates is of the Tl’aashchí’í, or Red Cheeked, clan. About fifty-five of the reservation’s members are in his clan, Cora’s being the next populous at thirty-seven.

Many of the young adult members of the clans are absent tonight, leaving the elders and young families with children the majority present. It’s a bit rowdy. It reminds me of my family. Growing up with four siblings taught me one thing – be the first to get to the food. Assorted casserole dishes are laid out on long tables and everyone is moving down the line, heaping food on their plates.

I note that one of Cora’s little boys is having a hard time reaching the banana pudding, his arms simply not long enough. I scoop him up in one arm and dangle him over the table. "There you go, bud. Go for it," I instruct, motioning toward the spoon in the dessert. He flashes me a grateful smile then begins ladling it onto his plate.

That’s a helluva lot of pudding there, bud.

Cora walks over. "Willie!" She rolls her eyes. "That’s more than enough." She shakes her head and takes the plate from him. Efficiently, she puts half of the pudding on her own plate. "Thanks, Harper."

I shrug. "No problem. I have a nephew a little younger than him." I put him back down on the ground and pat his rear, sending him on his way.

"Come over and join us. I would like you to meet my aunt. She is a shaman in our clan and very wise."

I follow Cora over to a table in the middle of the community room. Seated there is an elderly woman, her back bent with age and her skin long seared by the sun. I put my plate down on the table, but don’t sit yet.

"Aunt Shadow, this is Harper Kingsley. She is the reporter here about the storage facility."

Eyes that have seen more than I could possibly know move up to capture mine. "Sit. Join me."

Cora looks over to the food line when she hears a loud crash. "Jesse!" she calls and begins moving quickly toward the line.

"The facility won’t be built," Shadow informs me as I get settled.

I wonder at her confidence. Things certainly don’t seem to be pointing in that direction. I smile politely.

"It’s not good for the land or the spirit of the people. It cannot stand."

"Do you think someone will try to sabotage the facility?" Is she trying to warn me about something?

She waves a dismissive hand. "There is no need." Shadow returns to eating her meal serenely.

Okay. I dig into my food, finding the tamales to be particularly tasty. You can’t get good Mexican food in New York City, I’ve discovered. I am enjoying my companionable silence with Aunt Shadow when an argument breaks out a few tables over.

"My children’s health is worth less than a new pickup to you, Harry?" a woman shouts. "I saw that new Chevy in your driveway. It was bought with blood money. It is cursed!"

I look over and see a tiny woman leaning over a table challenging a broad-shouldered man. "Go to your family, Emma. The vote was taken. You lost."

"The votes were bought! Don’t think that we don’t notice the only houses being repaired are Tl’aashchí’í. You have phones, you have electricity. But, we Dzi t’aadnii have neither. Bill bought you. And Bill has been bought by the outsiders. It is a shameful thing!"

"Go to your family, woman," he repeats, dismissing her.

And she launches herself at him.

I start to get up, but Shadow places her hand over mine. "Sit. Eat."

"But -" I start to protest.

"It’s better for your digestion. Sit. Emma’s heart is just full. It had to spill out."

"But -" I repeat as I hear several plates clatter to the floor. Harry, to his credit, seems to be trying not to hurt Emma and merely trying to defend himself from her assault. Several other family members are hurrying over to intervene.

"It will be over soon. Eat."

Who am I to argue? I take another bite. Damn, that is so good. I gotta get the recipe before I leave here.

* * *

I can’t help myself. I take it out of the box and look at it again. The bracelet I’ve had crafted for Harper is truly beautiful. It came out much better than I could have ever hoped. I hope she’ll wear it.

It’s a solid platinum band about three quarters of an inch wide. I think that increases my chances; it’s not a wimpy piece of jewelry. It’s inlaid with four diamonds in a row on either side leading to the center. In the center, at the top, I had three sapphires set in a small arc. Sapphires are the traditional stones of the zodiac for Sagittarius. My partner and our babies will share that trait. Based on what I’ve read, I don’t know if I’ll be able to live with three of them. Sagittarians are basically playful nuts.

I glance back at the bracelet. Under the sapphire arc are a stylized H and K. The K being formed as an offshoot of the H’s right side so they look like one letter. Just as how Harper and I are one person now. Directly under that is a black Tahitian pearl. Pearl is the traditional June birthstone but it’s to commemorate our wedding date. The inscription inside the band says it all for me. Harper Lee Kingsley, Kelsey Diane Stanton. June 1^st, 2000. Our love has grown. Now our life begins.

God, I hope she likes it.

I’ve always preferred to have jewelry custom designed. I’ve only done it one other time for another person. I had a medallion made with the Archangel Michael and St. Sebastian, the patron saints for police officers.

Satisfied for the moment that she’ll like it, I tuck the bracelet back in its box. I put it away as the waiter approaches. I recognize Tony immediately. He’s a superb server who always takes very good care of Harper and I when we come here.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Stanton. It’s good to see you again. Dining alone today?" He looks a bit disappointed to not see Harper. I can empathize.

I sigh and nod. "Afraid so. Harper is in New Mexico on a story."

"Well," he pauses, smiling as he hands me a menu, "I’m sorry to hear that, but it’s always good to see you."

That just earned him a good tip. "Thank you. What’s good today?"

"The Chicken Parmesan is always excellent, but today the Fettuccini Alfredo is particularly good."

I glance down at my stomach. Okay, kiddos, what are we in the mood for today? What’s that? Chicken? All right. Chicken it is.

"The chicken, I think." I tell him with a wink. "And soda water with a twist."

"Excellent choice." He retrieves the menu and disappears.

The quiet time gives me a chance to pull out my organizer and go over some notes I’ve made. Harper sent me a ton of information by email and asked that I do some research over the weekend. I guess she figured if she had to work last weekend, I did too.

Is it only Tuesday? It feels like forever since I’ve seen her. I would much prefer to be with her, but it’ll only be a few more days until we’ll be together. And we’ll be implementing another no clothes Saturday for Harper I think. If we can make it through Friday.

I grin as I go over my notes. Boy, that vision makes it hard for me to read. I sigh and take a sip of my newly delivered drink in an effort to cool my brain, dumping it in my lap is not an option I’m afraid.

Well, so far it looks like Geo-Tech is on the up and up here. It is their job to find a way to store the waste. Until they figure out a way to shoot it to the moon, they will pay to store it on empty land. The Good Lord knows the Native Americans have a lot of that. One of the last fine ideas by our government was to trap people on their own land and make it difficult as hell to survive there. Thus, the two hundred and fifty million payment looked really good to these people.

"Kelsey?"

No.

I close my eyes and reopen them slowly, looking up to see my mother. Jesus, does this woman have radar? Of all the restaurants in all the cities in all the world, she has to come into mine? Well, I’m not Humphrey and she’s not Ingrid, and this is certainly not the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

"Mother," I say, closing my organizer. I look back up at her, folding my hands over the notebook.

"May I sit down?" she asks, even as she begins to sit.

Why don’t you do it way over there? On the other side of the city. In another restaurant. "Of course."

She settles down in the booth across from me, settling her purse and jacket. "Why haven’t you called me?"

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. Gee, Mother, shall I start alphabetically or chronologically? "Now why would I do that? Do you have a court appearance you need me for?"

"Kelsey, I’ve been worried."

"Please, save us both the embarrassment of that lie, Mother. You never called when I was in the hospital. Harper told me you refused to come to LA when she called you."

Mother makes a face like she just encountered a very bad smell. "Ah, yes, Harper. How is Harper?"

Like you care. "She’s fine."

"I take it you two are still …together?"

"Very." I offer my hand with a satisfied smirk. "We’re getting married June first."

Oh, she wants to be impressed by the ring, but I can see everything else forcing itself to the surface. She refuses to look at the ring or me any longer. Ha! You old witch, Dad never got you anything like this, did he?

Dad?

Where the hell did that come from?

Though, I kind of like it. I always wanted to have a Dad. I used to be so jealous of all the girls who did have one. I’ll have to try it out on him next time we talk.

Now as far as Mother goes, I’m being spiteful. Kelsey, stop it, you’re bigger than that.

Mother leans forward and whispers, fearful that someone in the restaurant might overhear us. "How can you do this, Kelsey? How can you do this to our family?"

I shake my head a little. I can’t believe she’s saying these things to me. "Family? What family? We’ve never been a family. And exactly what is it that I’m doing? I’m living my life and I’m happy for the first time in nearly thirty-three years."

"With a woman."

"Yes, with a kind, warm, loving woman who makes me feel like I am the most important thing in her life. With a woman who has made me a part of a real family."

"Kelsey…"

I raise my hand to stop her. "Mother, I’m not interested. Don’t you get that? All of your complaining and conniving has worn very thin, even on a thick-skinned person like myself. Face it, you don’t love me and I don’t like you."

"I … I …"

Well, for the first time in her life, my mother is speechless. I like it. Let’s drive it home, shall we? I lean forward and meet her eyes, making sure she won’t look away from me. I want to watch her face when she hears what I am about to say. "I am now in a relationship that has finally given me the things I have needed most in my life: love and understanding. Harper’s family loves me. They accept me. They ask nothing of me except that I love Harper, and I do, with all my heart."

She takes a deep breath and straightens in her seat. Just the response I expected: cold and unfeeling.

"So, why don’t you tell me why you’re here? Then you can go and let my have my lunch in peace."

Mother looks as if she’s been slapped. Truth is kinda like that sometimes. "I wanted to know if you had spoken to your father lately?"

"I don’t see why I should answer that question."

"Because I’ve been trying to reach him for weeks and he’s not returning my calls."

"You’ve been divorced for twenty years, Mother. You get twenty thousand a month in alimony. Leave the man alone." I sip my water. Since when did I ever feel protective of my father? When did he become a human being to me and not just a faceless gene donor?

"I need a raise."

I nearly choke on my drink. "Excuse me? You need a what? A raise? Are you out of your mind? Are you aware, Mother, that there are people in this country who make less in a year than what he gives you in one month?"

"They should have married better." She can see I’m not going to be sympathetic to her plight so she gets up. "Good to see you, Kelsey. I’ll see you soon."

Not if I see you first.

* * *

Back in my office I dig through my Rolodex to find his number. I can’t believe I’m doing this. When was the last time I called him? Willingly?

Before I have time to rethink what I’m doing, he answers. "Matthew Stanton here. Please tell me you have good news."

I chuckle when I hear the strain in his voice. "Oh, Dad, I wish."

Well, that just kinda slipped out.

"Kelsey! Sweetheart! Sorry about that. I thought you were someone else."

"Apparently. Unfortunately, I don’t have good news for you."

"So you don’t know where a twenty million dollar international money transfer has gone to either?" He laughs a little. I can almost picture him reclining back in his chair and loosening his tie.

"No, but, compared to that, this may be no big deal."

"What’s up, honey?"

Honey? Dad? My, my … how things change. "Mother." That never changes.

I hear him groan. I know the feeling. "She found me at lunch today. I swear she had a tracking device implanted in my skull when I was a baby."

"I wouldn’t put it past her," he mumbles. "What does the dragon … uh sorry. What does your mother want now?"

I can’t help but laugh at his slip. "The dragon lady wants more alimony so you may want to have your attorney head her off at the pass."

"Thanks for the warning. I’ve been ignoring her for weeks now."

Seems my father and I may indeed have some common ground after all dodging my mother.

I hear him take a deep, calming breath. "How’s Harper?" He seems genuinely interested.

"Too far from home." I pick at the blotter on my desk, missing my partner more right now than I have since she left. "She’s in New Mexico on a story."

"Sorry to hear that. Is she coming home soon?"

"No, but I’m supposed to fly out there Thursday. I’m trying to get an afternoon flight that won’t put me there at midnight or later."

"Why don’t you use my jet to fly out?"

I pull back a bit, surprised by the comment. "Guess it never occurred to me that you had one."

"Of course I have one. What kind of an investment banker would I be if I didn’t have a jet?"

"One that flies commercial like everyone else?" I joke.

"Please, I haven’t flown commercial in years. Why be cramped when you can stretch out on a couch and sleep? Besides, it’s all about getting the fun toys."

Ooo now he sounds like Tabloid. That’s pretty much her plan too. Of course, Dad has a huge lead on her. God, by letting him back in my life I’m giving her someone else to compete with. The thing with Robie is bad enough.

"Now I’m jealous. I hate flying anyhow and…"

"Then take it. I’m not going anywhere for a few weeks. Tell you what, I’ll have a car pick you up and take you to the airport whenever you’re ready."

"Now how can I refuse an offer like that?" It might be nice having a dad, especially a dad with a plane.

"By saying no. But you’re my daughter and I know you’re smarter than that. You know a good thing when you hear it." He laughs in a very paternal fashion.

"Yeah, I do. I’d really like that. Thanks."

"Anytime, sweetheart. Besides I owe you for the warning. Hey, when you get back, can you and Harper come up to the house for a few days? I have someone I want you to meet."

"Really?" Now I’m curious. And he invited us both. This has to be a good thing. "Who?"

"Nope, not gonna tell you over the phone. You have to agree to come to the house."

Well, now I’m very curious. "I’ll have to ask Harper, but if she’s up for it, I am too."

"Great. When you get your schedule settled, give me a call. I’ll make sure the plane is ready to go."

"Thanks."

"You’re welcome, honey. Now the old man needs to get back to work. People get cranky when twenty million dollars comes up missing."

"I can imagine."

"I can’t. It’s only money. And not much at that. Oh well, talk to you soon. Good-bye, baby."

"Bye, Dad."

I hang up and stare at the phone. Now I know where I get my lack of interest in my financial statements. And I definitely didn’t inherit it from my mother.

* * *

"You’ve never said anything," I start.

Cora looks over at me as we walk along her prayer path, a pristine swath of land on the reservation. "About what?"

"When we first met, I kinda just blurted out something about my future wife. You didn’t even blink."

She shrugs. "How should I react?"

That’s a very good question. "It doesn’t bother you? I mean, you’re a woman of obvious faith …"

"Don’t try to examine the Red Way through white eyes, Harper. It will never make sense."

I shove my hands in my pockets, mostly because I don’t know what to do with them. "The Red Way?"

"The way of the Diné. The very first principle is respect for all things – living and non-living. So, I respect you and your choices. But, also, until the Black Robed Demons came, there was no shame in being a Two-Spirited Person."

"A Two-Spirited Person?" If that means what I think it does, I am loving it. So much better than homo, lezzie, dyke or worse that I’ve heard in my life.

"It is the best explanation my people could up with. It means that the person has the soul of both the male and female. It is obvious to me that you have the body of a woman and that you enjoy having that body for love and sex. Yet, within you is also a male soul. That is what makes you want a woman and to provide for her. You are a Two-Spirited Person. Very rare. And to be honored, not abhorred."

Why, that’s actually enlightened. "So, does the nation acknowledge marriages between two women?"

"It used to be that if you shared your blankets with someone, you were married. Had you lived back then, you would already be married."

I allow myself a wistful smile. I already consider myself bound to Kelsey in every way that counts. She is as much a part of me as my own breath and flesh and blood. "I like that idea. I was telling my fiancée that we needed to elope."

"Yes, your people can put too much emphasis on the ceremony and not enough on what is being said. This is about binding two lives together, not what type of waist the wedding gown has and how many people you can have in the bridal party. The BlessingWay is a simple ceremony, but very profound."

"You know what I’m going to ask."

She chuckles. "The BlessingWay is our sacred ceremony. It is used to celebrate many of life’s great passages – birth, marriage, the building of a new home. Of course, the particulars of the BlessingWay changes with event, but it’s essentially the same. We ask the spirit gods to look down favorably upon our new endeavor."

"It sounds beautiful."

Cora nods thoughtfully. "How did you know that your woman was the one for you?"

Geez, that’s a good question. In the bar, with Gary, looking at Kels up on the TV screen, I knew she would change my life. I knew, for sure, she wasn’t straight. I just didn’t have a clue as to how much I’d love her. And how my family would embrace her. And how spectacularly happy the mere thought of her would make me. "She fit." It’s the best explanation I can come up with. One I have told Kels as well.

"It is always a great blessing to meet your soul’s companion."

* * *

My cell phone rings and I pull it off my belt and flip it open. "Kingsley," I bark.

"Kingsley," Robie barks back.

We both laugh. "What’s up, Robie?" It’s good to hear his voice.

"How’s Kelsey doing?"

I sigh. "She’s good. The babies are good. But she’s in New York and I’m in New Mexico on a story. How’s Ren?"

"Freaked out. Her favorite pair of jeans was a bit snug this morning."

"Tell me you were not your usual loutish self." I can only imagine what sensitive, enlightened comment must have left his lips.

He begins laughing. "I mentioned that Mama could put some elastic in the waistband for her."

"Robie!" I shake my head. I sure hope he’s joking. "You’re going to be sleeping outside with the gators if you’re not careful."

"It’s been discussed. But, I’m counting on you to bail me out, little sister."

"Younger."

"Little," he corrects. "Now, let me tell you my plan. We need to act fast. I don’t know how long we have."

This sounds dangerous. But, hell, I always watch Robie’s back. And he mine.

* * *

As the attendant opens the door for me, I see her standing there. I can’t help but smile at the look of total confusion on her face. She gestures to the plane as I move down the steps and I don’t even need to hear the ‘What the hell is this’ she mutters.

I walk over slowly and she meets me halfway, holding her hand behind her back. I look up into deep blue eyes and smile. "Give me a dollar, Tabloid."

"Heard that, did ya?"

"Loud and clear. Come on, give me a buck. We’ve got two college tuitions to pay now." I hold out my hand and snap my fingers then wiggle them for the dollar.

"How about," she brings her hand to her front, revealing a huge, beautiful bunch of fresh spring flowers, "you let me slide this once, because you love me and you missed me? Hmm? Think you can do that?"

The last part of her plea was delivered with that sexy little growl she has and I find myself with a silly grin, growling back a little. Taking the flowers, I smile at her again. "Just this once, Tabloid."

"Good." She takes my bags, shouldering the garment bag and picking up the duffel, which are brought over by the attendant. "So you want to explain this? Since when do you have a private jet?" she asks as we head for her rental car at the side of the building.

"Oh that. I slept with the head of the network." I burst out laughing, turning around to find her stopped behind me. The look on her face is priceless. "I’m sorry, honey. I was only joking. It’s my dad’s. He loaned it to me."

"You are so gonna pay for that, Kelsey Diane Stanton!" She charges me, picking me up and carrying me bodily to the side of the Blazer, managing to also still bring along the luggage. She puts me down, pinning me to the side of the truck. "That was mean," she protests, nuzzling my neck.

I nod, with a slight smile and wrap my arms around her neck. Oh, this is nice. I can’t help it, being with her makes me want to play. I can see she wants to as well. "I know. I said I was sorry. What more do you want?"

"A kiss. A great big ‘I’m sorry and I’ll never do it again’ kind of kiss."

"Oh, I can do that."

* * *

She climbs in the driver’s side and starts the engine. Before pulling out, however, she turns to me and holds out her hand. "Give."

"Give? Give what? I just gave you a kiss that cost us both a few brain cells from lack of oxygen." God, it was good too. Practice really does make perfect. I can’t wait to kiss her when I’m eighty.

"Pictures."

"What makes you think I brought you pictures of anything?" I tease, because I can.

"Because I told you to."

There are so many replies to that comment. I’ll cut her a bit of slack right now. "Oh well then," I open my purse and get out my wallet, "I guess that’s all that matters, huh?" Oh, I think I’ll start with this one. It’s a picture of Harper. Mama gave it to me when we were last home. "How’s this?"

She glances over at it and tries to snatch it out of my hand but misses when I pull it back. "Where in the he…" she pauses, catching herself, "heck did you get that?"

"My mother-in-law to-be loves me dearly and would give me anything. This includes, but is not limited to, pictures of my fiancée as a baby running buck naked down the hall."

She groans as her forehead hits the wheel.

"It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, Tabloid. Just smaller."

Another long groan emits from my partner. Her despair arouses some compassion within me since I know what she really wants. I don’t hold them back from her any longer. "Here you go, sweetheart," I say, rubbing her back gently. "Our babies’ baby picture."

She turns her head and takes it from my hand. "Thank you." She sits up behind the wheel and looks at them, her brows coming together. "Looks like a Rorschach test. I see a rat riding a donkey."

For that, she gets a firm smack to the arm. "Be nice or I’ll take it back."

She turns the picture in my direction. "You show me a baby in this, let alone two babies."

I lean over and point them out. "Right here and here." Slowly, we look at each other and another kiss begins. She is too close to resist. And her lips are so inviting. And she smells too good to ignore. And ... God, I’ve missed her.

Before pulling out of the lot, she takes the picture and props it up on the dash, right in front of the little stuffed stork that announced our babies to her in Ohio. How sweet, she travels with it. I reach over and take her hand. "Does your little friend have a name?"

She cocks her head a bit. I think she’s a little embarrassed, if the blush is any indication. "Stan."

Stan the Stork. Oh, that’s priceless. The Kitchen Conspiracy would die to learn about that. Oh and wait ‘til she hears what Dr. McGuire told me this morning. "Harper?"

"Yeah?"

"There’s a good chance Stan will be arriving a little earlier that we thought."

She turns to me, immediately concerned. "Kels, is there something wrong with you or the babies?" I can feel a slight tremor in her hand.

"No, no, not at all. Everything is fine. Dr. McGuire said twins tend to deliver around thirty-seven weeks instead of forty. They run out of room to grow and need to get out." I laugh a little and try to soothe her, rubbing her hand gently in mine. "Everything is fine. I promise you that."

She nods and exhales a long breath. "Good. That had me a little scared."

"They’re perfect, growing very well. We get to go see Doctor Doogie again in another two weeks."

"Well, at least I can go with you for that. Hopefully, I won’t be out of town again. I want to go to as many of the appointments with you as possible." She pulls the Blazer onto the road. "I hate traveling now."

"Don’t. Enjoy it now before I can’t do it anymore."

"Will there be restrictions like that?"

"Could be. Dr. McGuire said that some multiple pregnancies end up on bed rest."

"God, Kels, I don’t know what I’ll do if you’re on total bed rest and I have to leave town."

I begin playing with her fingers, to distract her. Harper’s career is important to me, almost as important as the children, and definitely more important than my own. "You’ll go and do your job and show them what a damn fine producer you are, like always."

"And run my cell phone bill through the ceiling."

"Yup."

She smiles at me triumphantly. "You owe a buck."

"Aww can’t you let me slide this once?" I mimic her earlier statement. "Considering that you love me and you missed me?"

* * *

I didn’t expect to end up near a lake, especially such a beautiful lake. Harper shuts the engine off and turns to me with a grin. "Are you tired?"

"Not particularly. I slept most of the way here. The jet has a couch that I stretched out on. I tell you, it’s the only way to fly. I didn’t get claustrophobic once. What did you have in mind, Tabloid?" I hope she doesn’t want to go hiking or something else silly.

"You know what I had in mind but I brought dinner too." She twists around and fetches a blanket and a basket from the backseat.

I take the blanket, laying it across my lap. "Let me see if I’ve got this right. You want to have dinner and make love here by the lake?" Oh my.

"Pretty much. Maybe not in that order." She lifts her brow and leers at me. "I’ve missed you, Kels. If I don’t get to hold you and make love to you soon, I’m going to combust."

"Hmm, is that so?"

"Oh, now don’t start teasing me. I’m serious here, darlin’. I need you."

Yes, I can see that she does. I know that look by now. "And you thought outdoors would be a good reason, why?" I just can’t imagine what she’s suggesting we do.

"Because the cabin I’ve rented for us is still a little drive away. And it’s so beautiful here. It’s the perfect setting." She leans over and nibbles on my earlobe. She knows all my weaknesses. "Do you have something against the great outdoors?"

"Not when it stays outdoors and I’m allowed to go indoors. And isn’t there a huge wildfire around here? We saw a ton of smoke while flying in."

"It’s to the east, in Los Alamos. I had an interview set up for you there, but I suppose that’s canceled at this point. We’ll be just fine, baby." She nuzzles my hair and kisses beneath my ear, right in the hollow. "The only heat you’re going to feel will be coming from me."

"Okay, tell you what, let’s at least go have dinner down by the lake. It’s really beautiful here, Kels. I swear to you, you’ll love it. The air is fresh and clean and there’s a sense of peace here that’s unreal."

* * *

Let’s have dinner by the lake.

I fell for that.

I should be slapped. God, that was almost as bad as every other pickup line I’ve ever heard and I fell for it. Hook, line and sinker.

I lift my head from Harper’s shoulder and look down into amused blue eyes. She brushes a strand of very damp hair behind my ear. "You are so bad for my willpower," I whisper. I feel her laugh a bit and I give her a smack on a bare thigh. "Be nice! And hold still. You’re a lousy mattress. All lumpy and stuff." I take the sting out of that comment by placing a moist kiss on one of my favorite lumps.

"Hey, a few minutes ago you thought I was the nicest person on the planet."

Yes, I did. I think all the bird, fishes and critters in the near vicinity heard me too. I’ll never be able to look a deer in the eyes again. "Yeah, but now you’re being evil."

"That must be why you were calling out to God. Trying to ward off evil spirits."

Brat. She likes to show off. "Too bad it didn’t work." I give her shoulder a little nip. She tastes so good. "I’ve never in my life made love outdoors."

"Well, now you have. You can scratch it off your list." She accompanies her comment with a scratch to my butt, eliciting a giggle.

"I don’t have a list like that, Tabloid."

"Liar. Everyone has a list like that. Even if they won’t admit it."

Okay, she got me there. But I refuse to have that conversation right now. It’s bad enough I’m bare ass naked outdoors right now. "And what do you have left on your list?"

"Hmm, waking up next to you everyday for the rest of my life." She gently rolls me over and caresses my belly, which is starting to swell a little. I’m definitely getting heavier and Dr. McGuire told me I’d show earlier too, carrying twins. Harper gently cups her hand over it, covering our babies. "To raise our children together. To grow old with you and to enjoy our grandchildren together."

How can I argue with that? I reach out for her and turn her eyes from my stomach and back to me. "Have I told you recently how much I love you?"

* * *

We finally make it to the cabin Harper has rented for us during our time in New Mexico. It’s a three room log cabin affair nestled in the woods abutting the Coyote Lake National Park. The mountains are highlighted by the red glow of the fire raging in Los Alamos. I know it’s horrible for the residents, but it does lend a strange beauty to the nighttime sky. The cabin is convenient to the reservation, Albuquerque and Santa Fe. Of course, it’s also romantic as all get-out to, which I am sure also factored into Harper’s decision.

"So, you stayed at the reservation this past week?" I ask. I have settled down onto a wonderful rocking chair. I wonder if I can fit it on the plane going back to New York.

She makes a noncommittal grunt and wanders into the kitchen where she has started a pot of coffee for her and kettle of water for my tea.

"Harper, you know I’ll do the interviews as impartially as possible, but I’ve got to admit I’m a little uncomfortable with that."

"What?"

"Your staying there. Honey, we don’t normally stay in the home of someone directly involved in the issue we’re reporting on. I can’t imagine that Langston would care for that much. It calls our impartiality into question too easily."

"There was no place else to stay," she answers returning with two mugs of our drinks.

I give her a look to convey my skepticism. "Albuquerque isn’t that far away. Neither is Cuba. Nor was Los Alamos, though I’m glad you didn’t stay there, actually. And we are here now." I pat the chair next to me, asking her to come sit beside me. After a moment’s hesitation, she does. "Tell me what’s going on with you, Harper. This isn’t like you."

She spreads her hands out, rubbing them over her jeans. "I feel at home there."

I wasn’t expecting that answer. "What do you mean?"

"The first morning I stayed there, when I woke up, I went outside and took it all in. And, I realized, it fit. I fit. Does that make sense?"

"Go on," I urge.

"It’s like a second home. A …" she pauses, clearly uncomfortable with what she’s about to say, "a spiritual one. I mean, I know New Orleans is my home. You are my home. My family is wonderful and I love them dearly. But, I guess, all my life I’ve always felt a bit adrift spiritually." She picks up her mug and takes a long drink. "All my life I’ve watched my parents and their faith. Catholicism – even with its flaws – speaks to them. They can understand and follow the Judeo-Christian God."

Okay, that I understand. Her parents’ faith, especially Mama’s, is clearly evident at home. "Go on," I repeat.

"I’ve never understood it. I’ve never been able to fully embrace a religion that has to surreptitiously accept me and who I am. The priest who volunteered to do our wedding could be thrown out of the priesthood for doing so." She blows out a deep breath. "I mean, it doesn’t make sense to me. A God who loves everyone but hates me? A God who would punish me for the way I was born? And then call it justice? I don’t understand it. I respect people of the Christian faith, but I’ve never shared it fully."

"So what’s different here?"

"Their worldview is different. It speaks to me. Before the Native Americans were converted by the missionaries, they accepted all people. In fact, homosexuals were held in special regard. They believe things that I do: respect all things, be silent so you can learn, learn everything you hear, and then pass knowledge on to others. It’s a very holistic and spiritual approach to life. When I first stepped onto the Navajo land … it spoke to me. Shadow says that I am a HeartBlood."

"Who’s Shadow and what’s a HeartBlood?"

"Shadow is a shaman and a HeartBlood is someone not born to the Red Way, but who embraces it. My heart has Navajo blood, even if my veins do not."

Of all the times for Harper to have a religious revelation. Of course, it makes sense. We’re getting married, we’re having kids. Lots of life changes that require guidance. "Should we get another team to do this story?" I have to ask.

"Kels, honey, I’m scared senseless. I don’t know quite what to believe or do anymore. But, I promise you, I can still do a balanced story. When it’s in the can, though, I’d like to spend a couple days here and try to figure this out. I promise you the piece will not show favoritism to either side, no matter what. Do you trust me?"

"You know I do. I’m a little uncomfortable, that’s all."

"So am I, but every once in a while you have to take a chance and hope it works out."

"Shut up and jump, huh?" Seems to be our motto. Maybe I’ll get T-shirts made up for us.

She nods. "Shut up and jump."

"All right, Tabloid, I’m right there with you. We go together."

She leans over and kisses me gently. "Thank you, chér."

<fade out>

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