Waiting for the Storm

by Marie Landry

  He turned to me and avoided my gaze, clearing his throat again before saying, “Lilah mostly takes care of the property up there, but…well, if she’s not around and there’s something you need…well…you just let me know.”

  The woman inside had told me Hank was wary of strangers. Did he see my mother in me—the girl he had known all those years ago—and decide I wasn’t so bad? Regardless, I had a feeling Hank was a big teddy bear deep down.

  “I will,” I assured him. “Thanks.”

  His lips twitched slightly, and I assumed that was as much of a smile as most people got from Hank. Without another word, he walked past me and into the store.

  When I got back to the house, Ezra was just packing up his tools. “You made good time,” he called as I parked the bike and took off the helmet.

  “I’d have hated for you to have to send a search party after me.” I swung the bags from the basket and carried them toward the house.

  “What’s for dinner?” He fell in step beside me, trying to peer into the bags.

  I told him, and his face lit up. “Homemade alfredo? I’ve only ever had it out of a jar.”

  “You’ll never want the jarred stuff again after you’ve tried mine,” I promised.

  “I don’t doubt that.” We looked at each other for a long minute, and it might have been my imagination but I could have sworn something passed between us. A spark? Some sort of recognition? I wasn’t sure, but from the look on his face, I thought he must have sensed it too.

  “I’m just going to go home and get cleaned up,” he said. “I’ll be back over in a few, okay?” I nodded and watched him start to walk away, but he stopped and turned back. “Charlotte?”

  “Yeah?”

  His smile was boyish now, almost shy. “Don’t start that alfredo until I come back, ’kay? I want to see how you make it.”

  I chuckled. “Okay, Ezra. You can even help me if you want.”

  His smile widened, and he gave me a quick wave before jogging toward his house.

  The house was quiet when I entered, except for the faint sound of the upstairs shower running. Ella was likely getting ready for a night out.

  I put the groceries away and laid out everything I would need for dinner. I was hot and sticky after my bike ride, and I contemplated changing my clothes, but didn’t want Ezra to think I had changed for or because of him. After the fifth time I had to pull my damp shirt away from my skin, I decided it didn’t matter what Ezra thought. Did boys even notice that sort of thing anyway?

  I ran upstairs, stripping the moment my bedroom door was closed. I hopped in the shower and let the cool water rinse away the dust and dirt I’d kicked up on the gravel road. I wanted to linger, but knew I didn’t have time, so I got out as quickly as I’d gotten in, toweled off, and dressed in denim shorts and a purple tank top.

  When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard the sliding glass doors shutting, and Ezra appeared in the living room doorway a second later.

  “I knocked but no one answered.”

  I wasn’t used to leaving doors unlocked. It unsettled me slightly, but apparently most people on this side of the island left their doors unlocked the majority of the time. “I ran upstairs,” I told him. “I don’t know where my dad is.” I stepped off the bottom stair and stopped in front of him. “I’m glad you let yourself in and didn’t give up and go home.”

  One corner of his mouth lifted. His hair was damp from a shower, and it was already beginning to curl around his forehead and ears. He’d changed into shorts that were similar to the ones he’d been wearing before, and paired them with a dark-green t-shirt and flip flops. He smelled amazing, like a fresh spring breeze underscored with something faintly citrusy.

  I started in the direction of the kitchen and motioned for him to follow. “Do you cook?” I asked.

  “Some. I’ve been on my own for awhile, so it was either learn or starve.”

  I wanted so badly to ask where his parents were, but I didn’t want to be too forward. We had just met, after all. Earlier it sounded like the house had been his mom’s, so where was she now? And his dad? I waited a beat, hoping he’d volunteer more information, but he didn’t.

  “Well, it’s a good skill to have,” I said. “My mom taught me when I was pretty young, and I took over all the cooking when she got sick.”

  “What can I do?” he asked.

  “How are you with a knife?” I pulled a long, sharp knife from the block on the counter.

  “Depends what I’m doing with it.” He glanced at the array of ingredients on the counter.

  “Knife fight,” I deadpanned. “You know, like a sword fight?”

  “Well in that case, I’m better with dueling pistols than knives,” he replied without missing a beat.

  “Damn, I left my dueling pistols back home,” I told him. “I guess for now you could start with this garlic.” I peeled a head and handed him three small cloves. “Can you handle that?”

  “I’ll let you know if it gets to be too much,” he said. “I hope you know first aid.”

  While Ezra started chopping garlic, I measured milk, cream cheese, and flour into the blender and mixed them together. We were working at the same counter, standing only a few feet apart, and I could smell him even over the rising scent of garlic. His nearness combined with that fresh, clean Ezra smell was distracting. I was glad I wasn’t the one with the knife.

  “That’s perfect,” I said when he’d finished chopping. I told him to sauté it in a pan with butter, then I added it to the milk mixture and set it on the stove to thicken.

  “That’s it?” he asked, leaning over the pot and inhaling.

  “That’s it. I just have to stir it for two minutes, let it simmer for a bit, then remove it from the heat to keep thickening.”

  “Huh.” For some reason I found his surprise endearing. Ezra didn’t seem like the type to be surprised by much, and the fact that it was over something so simple made me like him even more.

  I asked him to start the water for the pasta while I assembled the salad. We’d made enough food to feed about half a dozen people, even though I wasn’t sure anyone else would be joining us.

  As if on cue, Ella entered the kitchen and froze when she saw Ezra standing at the stove. Her eyes roved over him from head to toe, and a wolfish smile overtook her face.

  “Hi there,” she said, sashaying further into the kitchen and stopping a few feet from Ezra. She struck what I’m sure she thought was a sexy pose, with her hand on her hip. “Who’s this?”

  I was ridiculously pleased to see that Ezra didn’t look impressed by Ella. I figured that said a lot, considering my sister was wearing about the shortest dress I’d ever seen, baring an almost indecent amount of perfectly tanned skin.

  “This is Ezra,” I said when he didn’t answer right away. “Ezra, this is my sister El…Gabriella.”

  “Ezra,” she said slowly, eyeing him like he was a big piece of man candy. “What a cool name. Where’d you get it?”

  “I’ve always had it,” he said, and I couldn’t help the snicker that rose to my lips.

  Ella shot me a nasty look, her sexy smile fading. “A funny one,” she said, turning back to Ezra. “I like that.”

  Ezra smiled, but it wasn’t one of the knock-your-socks off smiles he’d been giving me all day. I’d seen guys give girls that smile—the kind that didn’t reach their eyes—when they were giving them the brush off.

  “Ezra’s staying for dinner,” I told Ella. “It should be ready in about ten minutes.”

  “Oh, what a shame,” Ella said, looking at Ezra as if he was the one who’d spoken. “I’d love to stay but I already made plans with Caroline from next door.”

  “That’s too bad,” Ezra said, shooting me a surreptitious look of relief.

  Ella must have seen the look that passed between us because her expression turned sour. She covered it quickly, and said to me, “It’s so good to see you making friends, Charlotte.” Her tone was sweet, and
she spoke slowly, as if she were talking to a very small child. “It’s not healthy for you to spend so much time alone. I worry about you, you know.”

  She brushed past me, patting my shoulder and sending a dazzling smile in Ezra’s direction. “You kids have fun. Don’t wait up!”

  I turned quickly toward the stove, stirring the sauce with new vigor as I tried to avoid looking at Ezra.

  “What a bitch,” he muttered.

  I looked over at him and almost laughed when I saw that he’d clapped a hand over his mouth.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “That was so inappropriate. She’s your sister, and…”

  “She is a bitch,” I agreed, surprised to hear the words coming from my mouth. I’d thought them often enough over the last few months, but I’d never said them out loud.

  Ezra looked relieved, and when he smiled it was one of those genuine knock-your-socks-off smiles that made my heart stutter. “I’ve never understood why people feel it’s necessary to cut others down in order to make themselves feel better,” he said. “But especially when it comes to family. I…I heard what she said last night. On the beach. I couldn’t see your face, but I knew you heard her, too.”

  I sighed. I’d been hoping he hadn’t heard what Ella said to that guy. And yet, it didn’t seem to change the way Ezra felt about me. He’d still talked to me today, and he was still here now.

  “She just…” I shrugged, uncertain how to explain the odd relationship between Ella and me. “I don’t even know anymore. We used to be close when we were younger. Things just got messed up somewhere along the way.”

  Ezra nodded. “I can understand that,” he said quietly.

  His expression was so earnest I wanted to pour my heart out to him and tell him everything that was on my mind—my mom’s illness, how my dad was acting so strange, my sister’s resentment toward me, my fears and insecurities and uncertainty over my own future.

  But then I remembered that we’d only just met, and you didn’t dump all your crap on someone you’d just met. I had no idea if he was just being nice to me, as the new girl in town who happened to be the daughter of his mother’s childhood best friend, or if he was interested in being friends…or dare I even consider something more?

  Either way, I wasn’t going to unload on him until I was sure.

  We finished making dinner, and I got out three pasta dishes. I was about to go in search of Dad when he peeked his head into the kitchen.

  “Oh, Charlotte. And…Ezra, is it?”

  “Yes, sir,” Ezra said.

  “I thought I heard voices. And smelled…” He looked toward the stovetop and I suddenly remembered that alfredo had been one of Mom’s specialties. She’d taught me how to make it before she got sick, and it was one of Dad’s favourites.

  “We were just about to eat,” I told him. “Why don’t you join us?”

  He shook his head slowly. “I’m not hungry.” He looked exhausted, even though I knew he spent a lot of time sleeping lately. Or maybe he was pretending to sleep so he wouldn’t have to deal with Ella and me, or the rest of the world. “I’ll eat later. I’m just working in my room if you need me.”

  “Okay, Dad,” I said, feeling slightly deflated. I thought maybe having Ezra there would have made a difference; that Dad would make more of an effort with someone else around. Clearly I was wrong.

  Dad looked between us, nodding his head absently. He gave an equally absent smile and headed back to his bedroom.

  “Well…” I said after I’d heard Dad’s door click shut. “That’s my family.” My voice wavered a little on the last word, and I turned away.

  “Hey.” Ezra laid his hands lightly on my shoulders. “It’s okay.”

  It wasn’t, but the way he said it almost made me believe it was true. He gently turned me around so I was facing him. With him standing so close, I realized how big he was—tall, broad, and muscular. He had to be at least six feet tall, and he ducked down slightly so we were eye to eye.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes…no. I don’t know. Things are just so…” I let out a noise of frustration, unable to voice all the thoughts swirling through my mind. “The way my dad was just now—that’s how he’s been since before my mom even died. It’s gotten worse in the last week, though. He hardly speaks to me, he barely eats, he sleeps a lot, he’s just…he’s here, but not here. He’s just sort of…checked out, you know?”

  Ezra’s eyes darkened, and he nodded. “I do know.” I waited for him to say more, but once again, he didn’t elaborate.

  “I just wish I could have some normalcy,” I said.

  “Well, I can’t promise you normal,” Ezra said with a crooked smile, “but I can try to make sure you have some fun this summer. Does that sound like a good compromise?”

  I blew out a long breath that ended on a light laugh. “Yeah. That does sound like a good compromise. Thank you, Ezra.” Since his hands were already on my shoulders, I impulsively closed the small gap between us and hugged him.

  He stiffened for a moment, and I automatically started to pull back, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. He drew me back, keeping his arms loose around me, but it didn’t escape my attention that our bodies fit perfectly together.

  “Charlotte?” he whispered, his breath tickling my ear.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can we eat now? I’m starving.”

  I shoved him away, glad the moment hadn’t had a chance to turn awkward. After being introduced to my crazy life, the least I could do was feed him.

  CHAPTER SIX

  After dinner we went outside and sat on the back porch. As sunset approached, I thought how strange it was to see the sun rise and set in the same day. Not a usual occurrence for me.

  “I love this time of day,” Ezra commented, staring out over the water as the sky turned pink and purple. “This time of year, too. In the winter when the sun sets before five, the evenings are so long.”

  He leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him and folding his hands behind his head. He looked so relaxed I half expected him to fall asleep, but his eyes remained open, scanning the horizon.

  The sun descended slowly toward the water, a fiery ball that bathed everything in an almost eerie red glow. It hovered for a minute over the water before being swallowed up by the waves.

  It felt like only seconds passed before the beach came alive. Teenagers spilled from houses further down the beach, and the bonfire from last night was relit. The scent of wood smoke drifted over, and I breathed it in. I’d always loved that smell, but because of the dry weather warnings back home I hadn’t encountered it since last autumn.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ezra’s head jerk. I glanced over, and he gave me a tired smile.

  “Will you hate me if I take off?” he asked. “I feel like an ass leaving you when the party’s just starting, but I’m exhausted. I only got about two hours of sleep last night…well, this morning, before coming here to work.”

  I thought about meeting him on the beach this morning just after sunrise. Had it really just been a little over twelve hours ago?

  “Go ahead,” I told him. “I think I’ll just go in and read.”

  “You should stay,” he said quickly. “Go over and join the party. There’s a bunch of kids our age around here.”

  “Sure,” I said, nodding. I had no intention of going down to the beach, but Ezra didn’t need to know that. I was certain he just felt bad about leaving, and wanted to make sure I wouldn’t be alone. There was a time when I wouldn’t have thought twice about walking up to strangers, but these days…well, these days, I could barely even get my own family to talk to me.

  “Good.” Ezra rose from his chair and stretched, his t-shirt rising to expose a strip of muscled stomach. I looked away quickly before he could catch me staring. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

  We said goodnight and he headed in the direction of his house. When he stepped inside, the house r
emained dark until a light on the far side of the house turned on, and I assumed Ezra was either in his bedroom or the bathroom. I watched until the light went out and the entire house was in darkness once more.

  The sound of approaching giggles drew my attention back toward the beach. A couple of girls my age were trailing along through the sand. They stopped at the foot of the porch steps.

  “You’re Gabriella’s sister, right?” one of them asked. From what I could see of her in the faint light, she was tall and slender with long blond hair pulled into a high ponytail. Her companion was shorter and curvier with light brown skin and curly black hair.

  “That’s me,” I confirmed. “Charlotte.”

  “I’m Kennedy, and this is Miranda,” the blond said, pointing to herself then the other girl. “Was that Ezra Rhodes you were talking to?”

  “It was.” Clearly I was nothing if not a conversationalist.

  Kennedy said something to Miranda that I didn’t catch, then looked back at me. “He hardly ever talks to anyone,” she told me. “He used to be really popular until his mom—” Miranda elbowed her hard, cutting off her words.

  Until his mom what? I was about to ask what had happened to her but Kennedy started talking again.

  “Anyway, now he barely speaks to anyone,” she said, rubbing her ribs.

  “He’s doing some work on the house,” I explained. “Fixing the porch and maybe a few other jobs, I’m not really sure.”

  “And he just, like, stayed and hung out with you?” Kennedy asked.

  “Pretty much,” I said slowly. What was the big deal? “I asked him to stay for dinner, and he did.”

  Kennedy and Miranda shared a quick, whispered conversation. Did they not know I was just six feet away and could hear them hissing back and forth like a pair of snakes? Their whispers stopped abruptly and they both straightened.

  “Why don’t you come on down to the beach and we’ll introduce you around?” Miranda suggested. I didn’t really feel like hanging out with anyone, but I’d told Ezra I would try, and at least now I would be keeping my word. I trailed after them along the beach until we reached the bonfire and stepped into the circle of light.