Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
K athleen picked up her bag and the lunch cooler and headed down to the lobby. A few minutes later, a cab pulled up and Veronica stepped out, punctual as always.
Kathleen eyed her with appreciation. The woman walking into the lobby was nothing like the sophisticated companion she knew.
She wore a pair of faded jeans, a t-shirt, a leather jacket and hiking boots.
Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wore a cap with the New York Yankees on the front.
Kathleen’s stomach gave a flip; she looked incredible.
Veronica slung her pack over her shoulder and grinned at Kathleen. “Hi.”
Kathleen smiled at her shyly. “You came.”
Veronica lifted a brow. “You booked me.”
“Yes, but I didn’t think you’d... um…accept.”
Veronica smiled slightly. “Why wouldn’t I? So, where are we going?”
Kathleen walked to the elevator and motioned her inside. “My car’s in the parking basement. We’re going upstate to a lake. It’s part of a conservation reserve. About an hour and a half drive.”
“Sounds interesting,” murmured Veronica.
When the lift door opened, Kathleen led the way to the SUV in bay four. “This is me,” she said, flicking the unlock button.
“Wow,” Veronica said in awe. “You own a Bronco Everglades.”
Kathleen looked at her in surprise. “You know cars?”
“You bet,” said Veronica, stroking the bonnet. “You wouldn’t be driving this baby in the city.”
“No. I’ve a smaller car for that. This is the one I take out on my expeditions. I don’t sit in the lab all the time; I do field research as well. My father is a car freak and has a vintage collection. I’ll take you to see them one day, if you like.”
“That sounds great,” replied Veronica, looking pleased. She cleared her throat. “You weren’t upset I was with Darlene?”
Biting back the retort, of course I was hurt , Kathleen plastered on a bland expression, though she couldn’t keep the tinge of bitterness out of her voice.
“I’m not na?ve, Veronica, I understand how it works.
None of us are entitled to anything outside the hours we pay for your services.
You were with Darlene that night, so naturally you had to give her your full attention. ”
“It’s not quite like that, Kathleen. You might pay for my company, but you’re entitled to my respect anytime .”
Kathleen bit her lip, realizing she had offended her.
Veronica squeezed her arm, then climbed into the passenger seat. “You can tell me all about your father’s car collection on the way. Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” Kathleen said with a smile, settling into the driver’s seat.
They talked easily now, about cars, books and art, but when Veronica tried to coax her to describe her experiments, she shook her head. “Today I’m going to forget about work.”
“So,” Veronica said as the trees became thicker on the side of the road, “I’m guessing this isn’t one of those paddleboat-swan-lake situations.”
Kathleen laughed. “Not on your life. We’re going to the Bashakill Wetlands. It’s one of the most underdeveloped nature reserves in NY state and also a great kayaking spot. You do know how to kayak?”
“I’ve done it a couple of times.”
“Good, because that’s the best way to see the lake.”
After nearly two hours, they turned off the highway onto an unpaved road into woodlands.
It became narrower as they drove deeper into the trees until, eventually, they pulled into a gravel parking lot fronting an expanse of water.
A few kayaks lay stacked under the awning of a little wooden hut.
“This is a private part reserved for the park rangers and those studying the wetlands,” said Kathleen as she eased the car to a stop.
They unloaded the cooler and their gear, and Kathleen unlocked the small ranger shed with a key taken from her pack. Inside were a few essentials: life jackets, dry bags, maps, a field radio. “Change into your swim suit in here, I’ll put mine on outside.”
She sucked in a breath when she went back inside.
Veronica was in a one-piece suit made from a high-gloss, crimson fabric that clung to her body like a second skin.
The neckline plunged low and the sides were scooped high, exposing the curve of the hips and elongating her legs.
It made her look impossibly sexy. Kathleen wriggled uncomfortably, conscious of her sensible full-body swimsuit.
Used to long days on the water, it provided her with the maximum protection from the UV rays. Now it looked like an overkill.
She mutely passed a life jacket to Veronica.
“You really do this often,” Veronica said, buckling herself in with slightly more finesse than Kathleen expected.
“I come out every month. It clears my head. Also, I help monitor the biodiversity here, a collaborative project between the university and the conservation authority.”
Veronica watched her silently for a moment. “You talk about it like it matters.”
“It does,” Kathleen said simply. “Come on, let’s get our kayaks. You take one of the sit-on-top ones. That way, if it flips, it’ll tip you off and you won’t go underwater.”
“Okay,” agreed Veronica.
They pushed the kayaks into the water and climbed in. Veronica’s movements were tentative, but she balanced herself well enough in the water for Kathleen not to worry she’d tip over. Veronica clearly worked out, judging by the subtle muscles in her arms as she began to paddle.
They drifted into the wetlands in silence.
The air was still, filled with the chirr of cicadas and the low hum of dragonflies skimming the surface.
Herons stood motionless in the reeds, long-necked and regal, their reflections clear in the water.
A muskrat darted from one bank to the other with a trail of ripples in its wake.
Kathleen pointed to a stretch of bog lined with water hemlock and sedges. “This used to be degraded farmland. Now it’s a thriving wetland. That’s blue flag iris on the right. And those logs—see how they’ve been gnawed? Beavers. They’re nature’s builders.”
Veronica paddled alongside, listening. Kathleen dipped her paddle into the still water, sending a quiet ripple across the lake’s mirrored surface. The trees on the shoreline leaned in like they were listening.
“It’s almost too calm,” Veronica murmured behind her.
Kathleen smiled faintly. “That’s why I like it here. If you’re quiet long enough, you start to notice things no one else sees.”
She let the kayak drift a little, then pointed toward a low-hanging branch near the reeds. “See that web?”
A shimmer caught in the light, the fine threads strung between two branches like spun sugar.
“There’s a tiny spider there,” Kathleen said. “Barely visible. Locals call them glass spinners.”
“Glass spinners?” Veronica leaned slightly forward.
“They’re not in any guidebooks. Not an official name. Their silk’s so thin it looks like glass when the sun hits it. You only ever notice the web when the light catches it at the right angle. Otherwise, you paddle straight through and never know you were even in a trap.”
Veronica was quiet.
Kathleen added, “They don’t bite. Not dangerous, but I’ve always thought they were… deceiving. Quiet. Delicate. But they build these perfect snares, invisible until you’re already caught.”
She turned around in her seat, meeting Veronica’s gaze. “Some people are like them. They don’t look like predators but they are.”
Veronica slid her eyes away and pointed. “What’s up ahead.”
“A heron rookery,” Kathleen said, steering her kayak through a narrow channel flanked by dense grasses. “Don’t make sudden noises.”
“I wasn’t planning to burst into song,” came the dry reply.
They passed into a broader clearing. Dozens of tall trees rose out of the water, their trunks silver with lichen, their branches heavy with heron nests. One bird took flight, wings wide and slow, casting a flickering shadow over the water.
It was beautiful.
But then when they came to a bend, Veronica attempted to turn and leaned too far. The kayak shuddered. Her paddle dipped awkwardly, and she overcorrected. A second later, the boat flipped with a splash, tossing her off. She surfaced, spluttered out a curse, then grasped the upturned kayak.
“Don’t panic,” Kathleen called, guiding her own kayak toward her. “You’re okay. Keep hold of the side.”
Veronica nodded, coughing up water. Her cap had floated off somewhere and her soaked suit clung to her. She looked more embarrassed than apprehensive. She tried to pull herself up, only to slip off with a splash and a sharp gasp.
“Wait,” Kathleen called out. “Let me steady it first. You’ll flip it again.”
Veronica clung to the side, water dripping down her face from her soaked hair. “This was not covered in the agency brochure.”
Kathleen chuckled, looped around to the far edge and braced her paddle across both kayaks, and locked her knees. “Okay. Kick up, belly across the seat slowly. I've got you.”
Veronica kicked hard, muscles straining as she awkwardly heaved herself onto the kayak. It wobbled wildly and she slipped off again.
Kathleen braced herself and leaned into the weight. “Try again.”
With a grunt, Veronica pulled herself up and this time managed to manoeuvre into the seat. The kayak rocked again alarmingly.
“Keep still,” ordered Kathleen. “You’re making it worse.”
Veronica blinked at her. “Are you always this bossy when someone’s drowning?”
Kathleen gave a little snicker. “Some people don’t listen.”
Veronica sat for a moment, breathing heavily, then reluctantly smiled. “I must look like a drowned rat.”
Kathleen ran her eyes over her. Her top was wet, outlining her nipples that were hard from the cold. Her eyes lingered there a beat too long. She felt the heat rush to her face when she caught Veronica’s knowing look. She cleared her throat. “Do you want to go back?”
“No,” Veronica said. “I want to keep going. I want to see the rookery again.”
Kathleen pointed to a patch of spatterdock, explaining its role in oxygenating the water. She described the seasonal changes; how migratory birds used the wetlands as a critical resting point. Veronica asked questions now, quiet, genuine ones.
And when they reached the edge of the far shore, they floated. Not speaking, simply existing and enjoying the peace.
“I guess we’d better get back,” Kathleen said reluctantly. “You must be getting hungry.”
“I’m famished,” said Veronica with a grin.
They paddled toward the car park, and pulled their kayaks back to the shed. Kathleen spread out a blanket from the boot of her car on a patch of dry grass, and opened the cooler. She pulled out sandwiches, cut fruit, and a thermos of iced tea.
Veronica flopped down beside her with a groan. “If you tell anyone I fell in, I’ll deny everything.”
Kathleen passed her a sandwich. “You’ll be a local legend.”
They ate in companionable quiet, the kind that only came after shared adrenaline. The food was simple but good—cool, fresh, perfect for the warmth of the day. For once, Kathleen didn’t feel out of place. No awkward silences, no second-guessing. Just sun, laughter, and the occasional teasing jab.
When it was time to pack up, Kathleen lingered. She folded the blanket slowly, letting her fingers trace the fabric. Her chest felt tight in a way she couldn’t quite explain.
“I wish we didn’t have to go back yet,” she said, trying to sound casual.
Veronica glanced at her, and murmured, “We don’t. Not yet.”
But eventually, the light shifted, the breeze turned cooler, and the spell broke gently rather than all at once. When Kathleen started the car engine, she felt something sink a little inside her.
She’d never had so much fun and didn’t want the day to end.