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"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't. It's been a long time since I've said it to anyone."
He considered that, his visage troubled. "Yet you said it to me, even knowing I can't...that I'm not...that it doesn't work for me that way."
"Doesn't it?" For a brief moment, her conviction on that was important enough to forget her fear of heights, to make her touch his face again. "I don't believe that, Noah. I don't care what anyone has said to me about it, even you. Just because it might feel or look a different way, doesn't mean it isn't the same thing."
Noah didn't say anything to that, but he did stretch his arm across the back of her chair and take a firmer grip on her hand. Completely in the now and wholly protective, the Noah she knew...and loved.
"Okay," he said at last, so quiet she almost missed the word. "I don't know about that, but I do know you should tell her, Gen. You're the bravest of the three of us."
If he'd told her she had horns sprouting out of her head, she couldn't have been more stunned. Then they went under another of those damn poles. She could swear the chair shuddered more ominously.
"Do you know they have synchronous lightning bug displays around here?"
She choked on a laugh, both sets of fingers clamped around his while he slid his arm off the back of the seat onto her shoulders. "You made that up."
"I did not. The Tennessee synchronous lightning bugs are world famous. This is only one of two places in the whole world you can see it happen."
"So what do they do? Flash 'buzz off, tourists' in Morse code?"
"No." He grinned, appreciating her. "During their mating season, bunches of them congregate ne
arby, in Elkmont. The males fly around and flash, and the females watch and respond by blinking back. Sometimes the males all flash at once, sometimes it's in wave patterns, sometimes they don't synchronize at all. It's like watching those programmable Christmas lights, in a way. RVs have to reserve camping passes during that time of year, it's so popular.
"Why do they do it? The bugs."
"Competition between the males is the theory. They figure if they all flash together, a girl bug can compare flashes and decide who she likes."
"So for lightning bug males, it's the size of the flash, for human males..."
"Kind of cuts down on the whole human superiority thing when you figure out most species are the same about things," he said, eyes twinkling. "And the bugs have never divulged whether it's the size of the flash. It could be how many times they can flash, stamina, rhythmic ability, that kind of thing."
She chuckled and managed to bite back the whimper, mostly, when the wire vibrated because the two teenage idiots in the lift ahead rocked their car. On purpose.
She looked back to verify Lyda's presence. While Lyda was taking time to enjoy the view, their Mistress met Gen's gaze, showing she was keeping an eye on her. Had Lyda put Noah and Gen together first to clear the air? Like most things Lyda proposed, it had worked. Noah's acceptance of the truth Gen had spoken in front of his grandmother was settling into a quiet, powerful thing between them, something that altered how he acted toward her. Since it was new for him, that difference was tentative, exploratory. But it was a good thing. She felt it in the clasp of his hand, his bemused looks at her.
Gen now knew the unsettling truth that Lyda could put her into an eager submissive role with a look or a word, yet it was a state that made Gen want to call Lyda hers right back, a two-way street. Surely Noah had that desire somewhere deep down inside, buried by the horrible behavior of his family. Everyone wanted someone who belonged to them, in all the ways that comforted in the middle of the night, that made the yawn of the future not so lonely or frightening. Someone with whom to share experiences, successes and failures, tears and laughter.
Once on the overlook, the three of them pressed hip to hip, Lyda on one side of Gen, Noah on the other, as they took turns peering through the viewfinders. Her fear of heights had to do with dangling at a high elevation, not standing on terra firma looking down the mountain, so as they walked along the deck, Gen enjoyed seeing Gatlinburg transform from garish saloon girl into a mysterious beauty. The buildings softened into silhouettes, lights twinkling across them like a carpet of stars.
When Gen's stomach growled, Noah rubbed his as if it had made the offending noise. Lyda chuckled but admitted she was hungry too, so it was time to seek out dinner. However, when they returned to the lift and it appeared as if Lyda was going to follow the same seating arrangement, Gen gave her a reproachful look.
"You said you'd hold my hand on the way back."
Noah grinned at Lyda. "You did, Mistress."
"Big babies, the both of you."
Despite the fond deprecation, Gen thought Lyda was pleased Gen hadn't accepted the idea of returning with Noah. Unfortunately, the good feeling about that wasn't enough to keep her mind away from a sudden, serious problem. As they positioned themselves on the platform, Gen looked out in front of them.
She'd expected things might go better, with it getting dark and her heading down. Unfortunately, it wasn't dark enough. Instead of staring at a mountainside as she had going up, she was looking out over a lot of open space. Like a million stories of open space.
"Lyda..." The panic in her voice caused an undignified squeak.
"Sit." Lyda had her arm, had her pushed into the seat, and then they were airborne. Gen's heart rabbited, her lungs squeezing down to the size of the furry mammal's.
"Gen. Breathe. One breath, two breaths..."
Maybe Noah would have been the better choice on the downward run, his fingers more resilient against Gen's bone-breaking grip. Lyda transferred Gen's grip to her thigh, covering her hand with her own, but she put an arm around Gen as bolstering as Noah's. "Put your face into my neck and close your eyes."
