"I bet it has," Kerry said. "From the interviews we were seeing on the news, it seems like most of the people in Congress are pretty much in agreement with each other though."
"Well." Cynthia curiously inspected the unwrapped chocolate, and then bit into it. "My, that is wonderful," she said. "In any case, there are the things one is expected to say to the press and in public, and then there are the things everyone says in private in the council chambers, and that is what made me understand just how much of a charade we do play here in Washington."
Kerry blinked a little in surprise. Not from the revelation that Congress often said different things to the press than to each other, but that her mother seemed so disapproving about it. "I just hope everyone sits down and thinks about what to do instead of just reacting."
"I hope so too," her mother agreed. "What will your plans be for tomorrow?"
The long day was now creeping over her. Kerry blinked a few times. "I have to go to our office in Virginia in the morning to see what the problem is with the government officials showing up wanting to tap our circuits," she said. "Then we'll probably go to the Pentagon. I want to visit my team there."
Cynthia pondered this for a minute. "Well, if there is anything I can help with on the government side," she offered diffidently, "please let me know."
Kerry nodded. "Thanks. Hopefully, it's just a misunderstanding," she replied. "I've gotten requests like that before, where people ask for things because they've either been told to, or someone mentioned a buzz word and there really isn't a full understanding of what they're asking."
Her mother finished her tea and set the cup down. "Well, it has been a long day, so I will leave you to get some rest. Perhaps you can join us for breakfast before you leave?"
"Sure." Kerry was too tired to even mind. "Good night--Oh." She felt a little sheepish. "Sorry about the table."
Her mother, already at the door to her bedroom, turned and peered at her, a faintly bemused expression on her face. "I have to admit," she said. "After all your talk about being this terribly different person, finding you under my dining room table amongst broken crockery was really quite amusing."
There wasn't really any defense to that. Kerry rested her head against her hand and gazed back at her mother through her somewhat disordered bangs. "Not everything's changed," she admitted, with a wry smile.
"No." Cynthia smiled back. "Not everything. Good night." She turned and went into the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind her.
"Night." Kerry remained slouched in her chair, sipping her cooling tea. She finished her chocolate, then stood up and set the cup down, heading for the refuge of her room as the day's tension and discomfort started to rub against her like sandpaper.
She sat down on her bed, resting her hands on the mattress as she looked out the window.
She could see the Jefferson Memorial. It was shrouded in shadows, its normal brilliant lighting dimmed for safety she supposed, but she felt somehow that the somber sight reflected her attitude about the events of the day.
She felt like the world was overcast. With a sigh, she got up again and turned out the desk light, and went to the already turned down linens and started to get under them.
Her cell phone rang. Kerry cursed under her breath at it, then leaned over and grabbed the phone, turning and using her momentum to land back on the bed as she opened it. "Kerry Stuart."
"Hey sexy. You naked under the sheets yet?"
The mental whiplash made her sneeze. "Buh!" She rolled over onto her back, her gloomy thoughts lifting like magic. "I forgot to text you!"
"Is that a yes or a no?" Dar's voice sounded amused. "Or were you partying with your mother?"
Kerry started laughing. "Actually we had tea and chocolate together. Thank you, my love. The socks are warming my toes as we speak."
"I was just standing on my head for twenty minutes. My nose is throbbing," Dar informed her. "It's goddamn boring in a country mansion in England at five in the morning you know that?" she complained. "I'm afraid to go out and run in case they have foxhounds or something out there."
"Well." Kerry smiled. "You're a fox. It's a valid concern." She heard a conspicuous silence on the other end and her smiled grew wider. "Oooo--I gotcha."
Dar chuckled softly. "You did," she admitted. "So how's it going?" Her voice altered. "I'm stopping you from sleeping so I'll keep it short."
"Don't," Kerry said. "I could easily talk to you all night long," she added. "Even my mother thinks you have a charming voice."
"Huh?"
Kerry cleared her throat a bit. "It's not bad," she said. "This room you rented for me could hold our entire department with room for our dog. Mom's being okay. I think after that blowup she's just staying away from a lot of stuff. Which is fine by me."
"Yeah."
"I wasn't in the mood for a fight tonight anyway," Kerry said. "And after I made that whole speech about being grown up and everything we were playing hide and seek in the house and I knocked a freaking table over. Ended up breaking a bowl the size of our sink."
She could hear Dar muffling a snicker. "No, go ahead and laugh." Kerry sighed. "Talk about blowing my image. I could have smacked Mike. He tripped me right into the damn thing and I hit the legs sideways."
"Table didn't have a chance." Dar commiserated. "You've hit me in the knees. I know what that feels like."
"My sister was laughing so hard she was crying," Kerry admitted. "And the look on my mother's face when she came around the corner to see what the hell was going on was pretty much priceless." She paused. "It reminded me of the fact that growing up in that house wasn't always a horror show."
Dar chuckled aloud.
"Anyway." Kerry sighed. "So it's not going too bad. How about you? Are you ready to fly?"
"Yeah. Actually, the timing is going to give me a problem trying to get hold of Gerry," Dar said. "If I don't get him before I take off, I might need you to call him," she said. "I'll message you if that's the case. It'll be really early your time when I leave."
"No problem," Kerry said. "I think I'm going over there in the afternoon so I can touch base with him. Shouldn't be an issue."
"Good," Dar said. "We can stop taking about business now. How did my voice come up in conversation?"
Kerry closed her eyes and smiled, narrowing her world down to the sound in her ear. She reached over and turned the bedside light off, leaving her in darkness that only made their conversation all the more private. "She was being nice. She was listening to you when you were on the conference call. Angie said something too, about your accent."
"My what?"
"Your cute little Southern twang," Kerry clarified. "I'm so used to hearing you I don't really hear it anymore, but they both noticed."
"I don't have an accent. My father has an accent," Dar said. "You have an accent."
"No I don't."
"Sure you do."
"I do not!"
"You do!" Dar insisted. "Everyone has an accent. Except me."
Kerry started laughing, "You're so funny. Thank you for calling me. I was starting to really get bummed out."
"Why?" Dar asked. "You said things were going okay."
"I know. I don't know," Kerry replied. "I just was. All the stuff going on and thinking about our people who are still missing, and not knowing what's going to happen with the government tomorrow-- it was just bumming me out." She thought about that. "Do I sound like a weenie?"
"No." Dar's voice deepened a little, warming audibly. "I was getting bummed here too. I feel like I'm so far away from everything," she admitted. "I'm glad we're leaving today, but knowing I'll be out of touch for that long is driving me insane."
"Me too," Kerry agreed, in a wry tone.
They were both quiet for a moment. "We're a couple of goddamned idiots," Dar said. "We'd give Mr. Rogers diabetes." She sighed with exaggerated exasperation. "Wait. Let me go out and see if I can find a box of bonbons and a pair of pink fuzzy slippers."