Page 29 of Tributary

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Diana

“HEY, HUNTER. GOOD to see you, brother.” I waited until the thickest of the crowd thinned and he stopped talking about what it was like to shave in outer space.

“Diana!” His face lights up and he opens his arms for a hug. I raise a brow at him and lean in, surprised when he pulls me in tight and thumps my back. “I missed you this time,” he says. “Isn’t that remarkable?”

Hunter has been deployed in space a few times for 6 months each. He was living in Texas with his ex-wife, though, so it’s not like we really saw much of one another. Unsure what to say to him, I respond, “well, last time you weren’t living right down the road and sharing your workout equipment with me.”

“Accurate.” He takes a sip of his drink. “You have really refined this recipe perfectly, Diana. Did you truly name it after me?”

I nod. Once I name a flavor, I tend to stop tinkering with it. I’m working on the summer ale from the hops Asa gave me. I’ve been adjusting that recipe late at night, when I can’t sleep and my racing thoughts keep me awake.

“Hoppy Hunter,” he says, smiling. “I like it. Did you see I’ve asked Abigail to marry me?”

“I saw she had a ring on. Look at you getting all mainstream.”

“I called her father from the space station to verify he and her mother are still comfortable with the idea of us marrying.”

I laugh. “I bet he liked that. Unless you called during a football game?”

He shakes his head. Abigail, Indigo, and Sara are trying some new dance move encouraged by the town kids, still in their costumes from their performance. The afternoon sun glints off her new ring and she smiles and waves at Hunter. “We had sex in the airport parking lot,” he blurts, looking at me. “Abigail was quite insistent.”

“It’s ok to maybe save some secrets to share with Archer,” I tell him, stealing his beer and taking a swig.

He yanks the beer back from me, sloshing some on his jeans, which still appear to be damp from the dance performance. “Speaking of Archer,” he says, “would you like to borrow some money?”

“What? Are you fucking kidding me? He told you?”

Hunter sets the beer bottle on the ground and I kick it at him. He stares daggers at me. “I asked if you’d been making progress on your research, because you hadn’t mentioned it in our last conversation, and Archer simply said you’d hit a financial wall. Which, judging by your response to my question, is accurate and unwelcome news.”

I slump back down next to him. “It’s complicated,” I mutter.

“I have a pretty sharp mind for science,” he says, making us both laugh, since we studied in the same PhD program. “And I have more money than I need right now. Can I lend you some?”

I shake my head. “I appreciate that, Hunter. Save your moldy money and buy Abigail a nice wedding, ok?”

“Aren’t you always insisting that I need to consider others’ needs? Are you not an ‘other’?”

“Honestly, Hunter, what I need right now is a breakthrough. I think I’m in a rut.”

He doesn’t say anything for a bit, and a few friends file by to give him a fist bump. Eventually, he turns to me and scratches the back of his neck. “Did I hear a colleague mention an important botany conference coming up soon?”

I nod. “That’s true. I haven’t been there for ages. I don’t even think anyone still remembers me.”

“Why not go to the conference and soak up inspiration?”

“That’s not a half bad idea, Hunter.” I pat his leg and don’t mention that the conference costs almost $1,000, which I can’t spare right now, and if I mention that he will just try to lend me the admission fee. I spy his friend Digger coming toward us, waggling his eyebrows.

“Craw-dad!” He hollers. I groan. Digger is perpetually hitting on me. “Craw-dad’s sister!” He holds out his arm. I think he’s looking for a shake, but he takes my hand and pulls me in for a hug. “I’d rather get reacquainted with you than your brother, anyway,” he says.

“Digger, knock it off.” I shove him back and roll my eyes. “I’m still not interested.”

“Thought you’d be feeling nostalgic or left out since your bro-bro’s off the market.” One of our nation’s top cyber-security experts, Austin Digby still talks and behaves an awful lot like a frat guy. I see why my brother was glad their time in the space station only overlapped by a week. “Listen.” He leans in close. “If you change your mind about that Digger nookie, I’m just a text away.”

Before I can open my mouth to swear at him, I feel an arm drape around my shoulders. I look up into Asa’s face, his jaw clenched, cheeks flushed beneath his dark stubble. “I’ll help Diana with all her nookie needs,” he says.

Digger is unfazed. “Yeah, I bet you will. Nice job, Sister Crawdad.” And just as quickly, he turns back to my brother and pulls him into a hug.

Asa’s arm tightens around my shoulder. “Who the hell is that?”

“Would you believe me if I said he was pledging a frat at OCC?”

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