Parties in Congress (26 page)

“I appreciate the heads-up,” Colleen said blithely.

“I’ve learned to put it out there in advance, so later you can’t stage a screaming match with me in the middle of Whole Foods and insist that I’d kept it from you.”

“I guess that rules out my plans for a special evening with you in the grocery store.”

“Oh?” Bijal asked.

“Uh-huh, I had it all worked out. I planned to start my tirade in the dairy section and have you in tears by frozen foods.”

“Thoughtful of you to leave me by the Häagen-Dazs when I’m at my emotional low point.”

“Well, I’m not a
monster
,” Colleen replied. “So, tomorrow.”

“Right.”

“Do you know where Brookman Park is?”

Bijal walked to the very edge of the deck. “Sadly, if it’s outside the Beltway and they don’t have margarita night, I won’t know it. But it’s the twenty-first century. I can find it.”

“It’s about forty minutes outside of DC, but the trails there are beautiful. Just meet me in the parking area at eleven. And bring a sweatshirt or something, in case it’s chilly. I’ll take care of everything else.”

“Okay, that works.”

“Cool. I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Have a good night, Bijal.”

“You too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Bijal put her phone back in her pocket and looked again at her watch. She needed to get out of here. It was now more than just a mere annoyance. She had somewhere to be in the morning. There were preparations to be made, shut-eye to be had.

Reentering the club, she now found Fran at the bar chatting with a couple of women who looked so much alike they could have been twins. They both were wearing jeans so tight they possibly caused sterility. And both should have purchased tops at least one or two sizes larger, because they clung to every fold of skin in a far from flattering way.

Fran, unsurprisingly, seemed to like that look just fine, and she had a hand resting on the inner thigh of one of the McSqueezy Sisters.

“Fran,” Bijal shouted, trying to be heard over the din. She put her hand on Fran’s shoulder when she didn’t immediately turn around. “Hey, I’m heading out.”

Fran looked confused. “What do you mean?” she asked, close to Bijal’s ear. “You met someone?”

“No, I’m going home to get some rest.”

“What? Why?”

“For the best reason I can think of—because I’m tired.”

Fran stepped away from the McSqueezys and focused on Bijal. “What the hell happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Look, girl, if you don’t blow the cobwebs off your goody basket, it’s gonna shrivel up like a raisin.”

“Wow,” Bijal said in horror. “What a vile image. Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome. What happened to that chick who looked like she wanted to gnaw you like a baby-back rib?”

“She spoke,” Bijal replied curtly, more than ready for this conversation to be over.

“Well, don’t let her do that anymore. Put something in her mouth—whatever it takes.”

“Fran, cut the crap,” Bijal snapped. “I don’t want an easy lay. Sorry, that’s just not me. Now I’m going to hop the Metro and go home and sleep, because tomorrow I’m going hiking.”

Fran chuckled. “For a minute it sounded like you said ‘hiking.’ What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I
did
say hiking.”

“Are you shitting me?”

“Nope. I’m…whatever the opposite of shitting you is. Pissing you?”

A muscle in Fran’s cheek twitched. “You’re seeing O’Bannon, aren’t you?”

Bijal nodded in determination. “I’m taking a day off and I’m gonna hang out with someone I have fun with, yeah. So don’t be mad at me. You stay here and have fun, and I’ll see you later, okay?”

Fran seemed to understand. “Okay. Be careful.”

“You too. Those girls may not be clean.”

As Colleen pulled into the paved lot of Brookman Park, in front of the sign was a familiar blue Subaru, and stretched out atop the hood soaking up the sun was a familiar raven-haired hottie. She pulled into the space beside Bijal and turned off her car. “You’re early.”

Bijal’s face lit up. “I factored in extra time, in case I got lost, my car broke down, or cannibals waylaid me.” She looked perfectly yummy in well-fitting jeans, an open red-flannel shirt over a contour-hugging tank top, and a pair of dark Ray-Bans.

“How fortunate that none of those things happened,” Colleen said, getting out of her car and going around to the passenger side to let out her visibly ecstatic dog.

“Well, the first two didn’t, anyway,” Bijal replied, sliding off her hood and landing soundly on her feet.

“Damned cannibals and their rock music.”

Callisto burst out of the car like a cannonball and began dancing around them, no doubt in an effort to speed them up.

“She seems excited,” Bijal noted.

Colleen pulled out both a small backpack and a larger one that acted as a picnic basket and set them on the ground as she secured the car. “She can’t help herself. Sniffing the poo of woodland creatures is one of Callisto’s favorite things in the world.”

“Who can blame her? Wow, you brought a lot of stuff. How long are we staying?”

“About four days. Can you help me with the tent?” Colleen asked. Bijal stared back at her with concern. “Just kidding. I figured we’d probably only be a few hours.”

“All this for a few hours?”

“There’s lunch, drinks, and assorted basic supplies.”

“Ooh, like provisions?” Bijal picked up the small backpack and hefted it to gauge the weight. She was sexy and cute at the same time.

“I guess so. Though today we won’t be panning for gold dust or bartering at the old trading post. Are you good carrying that?”

Bijal slid the bag over her shoulder enthusiastically. “Done.”

Colleen switched out her regular glasses for her prescription shades and grabbed the larger pack. “Then let’s go.”

Callisto barked eagerly, and they set off toward the woods.

“So when’s the last time you went on a hike?” Colleen asked.

“Um, on prom night I spent the evening out in the woods with a bunch of my friends, drinking two-dollar wine. Does that count?”

“I don’t think just being in the woods is sufficient, no. Though being drunk certainly adds to the degree of difficulty.”

“Oh, then never.”

Colleen chuckled. “Not the outdoorsy type?”

“It’s not that I don’t enjoy the outdoors. It’s just that the outdoors tends to be…dirty.”

“So you’re saying you’re a big priss.”

“I wouldn’t say priss. I’m more of a—”

“Candy-ass?”

“
Exactly
.” They reached a wooden sign with a map of the different trails on it. “Which one are we taking?”

Colleen realized that Bijal really had no idea what she was getting herself into. “My favorite is the yellow trail, though it may be a little long and steep if this is your first hike.”

“My first
sober
hike, thank you. And let’s go ahead and take yellow. I’m not some fragile pressed flower who can’t walk up a hill.”

“The view from the top is really spectacular, and it’ll make a nice place to stop and eat.”

“Then bring it on.”

*

“Holy shit! How much higher is this fucking mountain?” Bijal stopped, bent at the waist, and put her hands on her thighs as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Do you want to take a break?”

“Well, are we…are we close to the top?”

Colleen looked around as though to get her bearings. “We’re over halfway there.”

“You’re joking, right? It’s right behind that ridge, isn’t it?”

“No, to both,” Colleen replied, walking the few steps back to meet Bijal. “We probably should have taken either the blue or the green trail.”

“But yellow sounded like such a…pussy kind of trail. I mean, it’s the color of urine…and cowardly gunfighters.”

Colleen reached into her pack and produced a bottle of water, which she handed to Bijal. “It’s also the color of your gallbladder, which is usually the first organ to fail due to high elevation and extended exertion.”

Bijal unscrewed the cap and took a sip. “Christ! Really?”

“No, I made that up. But I love how deliciously gullible you are. It promises hours of amusement.”

“Can I blame that on the lack of oxygen?”

“You can certainly try,” Colleen said with a grin. “How about this? There’s a clearing not too far from here. Let’s stop and eat there, okay?”

Bijal was still huffing, but managed to stay upright long enough to drink some more water. “If you’re sure you want to stop,” she replied, trying to act as though she was actually capable of anything
but
stopping.

“Unless you’d rather wait until you spit up blood.”

“That’d only be on the red trail, right?”

“Precisely. You’re picking this hiking stuff right up.”

“Possibly, though at this point, it could just be altitude sickness.”

“You know we’re probably not more than seven hundred feet up, right?”

That sounded pretty low to Bijal. “And you start to feel effects at how high?”

“About eight thousand feet.”

“So this is just more of my candy-assedness?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“That’s incredibly humiliating.”

“Come on,” Colleen said, taking Bijal’s hand and tugging her slowly into motion, though thankfully not straight up the mountain this time—off to the right. “It’s not too far.”

Callisto trotted back to them to survey what the delay was, then snorted in obvious disapproval as she fell in behind them.

“You know,” Bijal said as Colleen pulled her along, “I had no idea how out of shape I am. I’ve obviously been spending too much time sitting at my desk and eating manicotti.”

“If it’s any consolation, that manicotti seems to be settling in all the right places.”

If Bijal hadn’t already been sweating so profusely, she might have blushed at the compliment. “Thanks. I’ll try to look attractive while I’m on the ground gasping and weeping.”

Colleen looked back over her shoulder, her amusement apparent. “Fortunately for you, that’s just how I like my women.”

“Then you’re in for a real treat if we keep walking much longer.”

“We’re almost there, I promise. It’s just beyond these trees.”

Bijal continued to allow Colleen to guide her as she focused on where she was stepping. The last thing she needed to do was stumble and twist her ankle. Then it would be like every romance novel she’d ever read, except that neither of them was a double agent, a lonely cattle rancher, or a time traveler trapped in a prehistoric dinosaur land. Wait, was that
Land of the Lost
?

Her fatigue was apparently jumbling her thoughts. How did those things get confused? She didn’t recall anyone ever having sex in that cave while a triceratops or Sleestak watched.

“Here we are,” Colleen said, as they stopped.

“Wow,” was all Bijal could wheeze. Colleen hadn’t sold this clearing short. It looked out over a valley striped with trees slowly transitioning to amazing fall foliage. It was striking, stirring, and absolutely spectacular.

Colleen took off her pack and removed a plaid blanket, which she unfolded and set on the grass. “Sit down, Bijal. Drink some more water and unwind.”

“Thanks. You know this place pretty well, huh?”

“Well, I used to do a lot more hiking than I do now,” Colleen replied as she knelt and started unpacking lunch. “Lisa was very athletic, so I got pretty familiar with the local parks, lakes, and golf courses. Of course, now that I work in Washington there’s a lot less opportunity to do sporty things.”

It seemed terribly sad to Bijal that for the last several years Colleen and her dog had been wandering around the scrub and prairie lands—or whatever the hell Virginia had—like forlorn nomads. Trapped in the past, Colleen now found herself leaping from life to life, putting things right that once went wrong, and hoping each time that her next leap would be the leap home.

Shit, she was doing it again. That was from
Quantum Leap
.

“Are you all right now?”

“Maybe not
all
, but I’m mostly right. I just need to stop panting like an obscene phone caller and hope my calves quit bunching up.”

“This is where a less-sensitive person would tell you that pain is just a reminder that you’re alive.” Colleen called Callisto over and set down a canvas water bowl for her before giving her a large bone that she removed from a baggie. “Here you go, girl.” The dog eagerly took the treat and settled down to give it her full attention.

“Incidentally, the average person in agony is not above limping over to the less-sensitive person and punching her right in the crotch. Just to, you know, remind her she’s alive.” Bijal reclined on the blanket and stared up at the sky.