Waiting for the Storm

by Marie Landry

  “Yeah, it’s open all night in the summer ’cause there are so many kids around. They just started doing it last year when more and more people said they wished they had a place to hang out at night. Not all the kids on the island are partiers, although I’m sure it seems that way.”

  That was pretty much the impression I had, especially after tonight’s events. “Well then I’d like to stay with you, if that’s okay.”

  “’Course.” His tone was casual, but he seemed relieved. He parked in front of the general store and we walked up to the diner. Inside, there were three tables with groups of teenagers scattered around; two girls in blue and white uniforms bustled around between the tables carrying trays of food.

  We went up a couple steps at the far end of the diner and chose a booth away from everyone else. There was a girl about my age in the corner booth, her legs stretched out on the vinyl seat, and a book propped in her lap. She glanced up and gave me a shy smile when she caught me looking, and I smiled back before turning my attention to Ezra.

  “I can’t believe this place is open all night,” I said.

  “During the summer, the island is more alive at night than it is during the day,” Ezra explained. “It’s even busier this year because so many kids will be leaving in the fall to go to college, so they want to cram in as much time together as possible.”

  “Makes sense.” I’d been purposely avoiding thoughts of college. Since I couldn’t go in the fall, I had time to figure out what I wanted to do, but it was daunting; there were so many choices. I always thought I wanted to become a teacher like dad, but now I wasn’t so certain.

  One of the waitresses came over, flashing us a welcoming smile. She asked what she could get us, and Ezra glanced at me.

  “I’d love some ice cream.” I checked her nametag: Mandy. “Cookies and cream if you have it? And in a bowl, not a cone.”

  “Sure thing. How ’bout you, Ezra?”

  “I’ll have the same. Thanks, Mandy.” When she left, Ezra looked at me, the amusement from earlier lighting his eyes. “Got something against cones?”

  “No,” I laughed. “It’s just hard to talk and eat a cone at the same time. It ends up melting and you’re frantically licking it and wiping it off your hands.”

  Ezra chuckled. “I like your logic.”

  When Mandy returned with our ice cream, we sat in silence while we both spooned up our treats. After a few minutes, Ezra pinned me with his bright eyes, and said, “Tell me something.”

  “Tell you something?” I echoed dumbly.

  “Yeah. Anything. Tell me the first thing that pops into your head.”

  My mind instantly went blank. When a thought finally did pop into my head, I blurted it out, but regretted it almost instantly. “I’m afraid,” I said, then cringed.

  He cocked his head to the side. “Of what?”

  I took a deep breath. I hated that our conversations always turned toward the serious, and that I seemed to reveal these hidden parts of myself while he remained a mystery. “Everything?” I said, embarrassed. “Well, not everything, it just seems that way sometimes. And I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

  “In case you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m not going to judge you,” Ezra told me. “So tell me. Maybe…maybe there’s something I can do.”

  I took another deep breath and went for it. “I never used to be like this,” I began. “I wouldn’t say I used to be brave exactly, but I wasn’t scared of everything the way I am now. The only big fear I ever really had was of open water, and I’m still afraid of that.” I looked up from my ice cream, and could tell the irony of that wasn’t lost on him since we were living on an island.

  “But lately…lately, I’ve been afraid of everything. I’m afraid of being alone, even though I’m alone most of the time. I’m afraid of crowds and talking to new people. New things in general, really. I used to take chances, and be excited about new people and places, but not now.” I drew in a breath and stared down at my shaking hands on the table. “I’m afraid Ella’s going to get herself in trouble, plus I’m afraid Dad’s never going to go back to normal and he’ll be stuck as Zombie Dad, mourning my mother’s loss for the rest of his life. I’m afraid of this emptiness inside me, the numbness and the anger and the pain, and I’m afraid it’ll never go away.”

  I finally raised my head to look at Ezra; his eyes were wide and I wondered if he regretted the seemingly simple request for me to tell him something. After a second, he reached across the table and covered my trembling hand with his. It was warm and rough and so comforting. “And this started when your mom got sick?”

  “Not right away,” I said slowly. “Except for the regular doctor’s visits and her having to leave work, life was pretty normal at first. I kept going to school, I had my friends, went on dates, had a life. I guess I was what you would call popular—what Ella calls popular, anyway—but to me, I was just…me. Just Charlotte. But then Mom got worse, I left school, and my friends suddenly didn’t know how to act around me. I was home all the time with Mom, and I guess it was harder on me than I realized.”

  “It can do strange things to a person.” Ezra’s eyes shifted away from mine. “Being with someone who’s sick, knowing their time is limited. Spending so much time on your own, feeling isolated…”

  I studied his face. His brows were drawn together over lowered eyes, and he looked older somehow, like that first night I’d seen him. “You’re speaking from experience, aren’t you?”

  Ezra’s frown deepened. “Yes and no,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. He inhaled deeply and met my eyes. “I told you I’m not the easiest person to get to know, but I guess it’s not fair for you to open yourself up and have me not reciprocate. So…” He paused and closed his eyes. I was about to tell him he didn’t have to talk about anything he didn’t want to, but he opened his eyes again, and they were different—darker. I decided to keep my mouth shut. I needed to know.

  “My dad wasn’t a good person,” he said slowly. “He was a drunk, and he was abusive—mentally, emotionally…physically. He had a temper like you wouldn’t believe, and the least little thing that went wrong, he took it out on my mom and me. Mom had a part-time job working at one of the tourist shops, and Dad took almost all her money and pissed it away. What she was able to keep, she hid away and told me someday we’d get out, just the two of us, and not have to deal with him anymore. As I got older and I was able to stick up for myself, I’d get in between them. He’d beat the shit out of me, but I didn’t care because it was one less beating my mom had to take.”

  I swallowed hard, fighting the sour feeling in my stomach. It made me sick to think of Ezra and his mom having to deal with a monster like that.

  He held up a hand to motion for me to wait, then he got up and crossed the diner to the front counter. He talked to Mandy for a second, and she filled two glasses from the soda fountain before handing them to him with a smile.

  He returned and set one of the glasses in front of me. He took a long drink, draining half his glass before setting it on the table. I hesitated for a second and reached my hand toward him, and he took it without a moment’s pause, entwining his fingers with mine. He stared down at our joined hands as he continued. “I started doing odd jobs where I could and saving money. Mom never told anyone what was happening, but I think Lilah had an idea, and she snuck me money whenever she could. I hated taking it from her, but all I could think about was getting Mom away, making sure she was safe.

  “One day, Dad took a friend’s boat out on the lake to go fishing. And by ‘took’, I mean that literally. The friend had no idea, and wouldn’t have let the old man take the boat, knowing he was a drunk. Something happened—no one really knows what—and he ended up tangled in a fishing net. Another boater found him the next day, dead. Strangled.”

  I gasped involuntarily and covered my mouth with my hand. “That’s…I’m so sorry, Ezra.”

  He shook his head, and when he met my gaze, his e
yes were even darker than before. “I wasn’t,” he whispered. “Sorry, I mean. I know that probably makes me sound like a horrible person, but I couldn’t muster up the least bit of sorrow after all he’d put us through. And his death didn’t end things, either. I thought we were home free after that, but Mom…she…she was never the same after that. I thought she’d be relieved to be rid of him, even deep down inside. She still loved him for god knows what reason, but she hated him too, hated him as much as I did, but she was so damaged. She just…”

  I waited patiently for him to continue. He played with my fingers, twisting the claddagh ring my mom had given me for my sixteenth birthday, then running his fingers over the tips of my nails.

  I wanted to know what happened to his mother, and was about to ask him when he said, “So I get the fear. The fear and the anger. I worry every day that I’ll end up like him. That someday someone will look at me the wrong way or say something to set me off, and I’ll turn into him.”

  “You won’t,” I told him.

  “How can you be sure?” His eyes were haunted and full of so much pain, but there was also a little glimmer of hope. It was the hope I held onto and tried to pull out.

  “You’re nothing like him,” I said firmly. “I’ve only known you for two weeks, and I can tell that already. Your dad sounds like someone who was born angry and it got progressively worse. You…you’re kind and good. You stood up to your dad when other people might have cowered in fear or run away. You stuck around for your mom, when I’m sure there are other people who would have left just so they’d be away from the abuse.”

  He was shaking his head, his eyes downcast once more.

  I changed tactics. “Okay, tell me something. Would your dad have worked seven days a week to help out people around the island? Would he have cared enough to make sure the streets of Angel Island were safe from drunk drivers? Was he a good and loyal friend like you are?”

  “No,” he muttered.

  “I didn’t think so. You’re nothing like him, Ezra. You won’t turn into him.” I squeezed his hand and he stopped shaking his head. He looked at me—really looked at me, like he was seeing inside me, into my heart and mind and deeper. My heart kicked into overdrive, and as if sensing the change, he moved his fingers along my wrist, stopping at my pulse point. His lips moved slightly, but he didn’t smile. He just kept staring at me until his phone beeped.

  Gaze still locked on mine, he pulled the phone from his pocket and answered it. He had a brief conversation with the person on the other end, then put the phone back in his pocket. “You up for another ride?”

  “Definitely.”

  We left a few bills on the table, and waved to Mandy on our way out.

  We ended up a few houses over from where we’d picked up Adam earlier in the night. This time it was an older couple, dressed in fancy clothes. They sat in the back and giggled like little kids. Ezra and I snuck glances at each other, and tried to keep from laughing. When the couple started making out in the back, I looked at Ezra wide-eyed.

  “Welcome to my world,” he said, voice pitched low. “Stick with me and I’ll show you things you couldn’t imagine.”

  I laughed. I knew he was talking about the drunken people he chauffeured, but I had a feeling his words held a double meaning.

  We dropped the couple off, and Ezra got another call almost immediately. This time we drove to our own street to pick up a group of teenage girls who must have been at the bonfire, because their clothes smelled like wood smoke. It was almost as strong as their combined breaths, which I could smell all the way from the front seat.

  They chattered and giggled non-stop, and spent at least half the drive flirting with Ezra, who humoured them by answering their inane questions, but didn’t show any further interest. When we dropped them off, it was after three, and Ezra said it was time to call it a night.

  “People rarely call after three,” he told me as he turned the car toward home. “Most parties are over by then, or they’ve already arranged for a DD.”

  He pulled into his driveway and insisted on walking me to my back door.

  “I hope that wasn’t too weird for you,” he said as we climbed the porch stairs.

  “It wasn’t,” I assured him. “It was just the right amount of weird.”

  He laughed softly and took both my hands in his. “You seemed to enjoy yourself tonight, despite how heavy our conversation got there in the diner.”

  “I actually had fun.” He was rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles, and I found it very distracting. At the same time, I hoped he wouldn’t stop. “I’m glad you trusted me enough to take me with you, and show me that part of your life. And telling me about your dad…I know that couldn’t have been easy.”

  “It wasn’t,” he agreed. “But I know it wasn’t easy for you to tell me about being afraid. I wouldn’t say we’re quite even—there’s more you don’t know yet—but I’ll try my best to open up if you keep opening up to me.”

  “Deal.” I smiled up at him, and his eyes softened as he returned my smile.

  “We really are two peas in a pod,” he said. “We’re both night owls…we’re both kind of damaged by our pasts.”

  “What was it you said to me earlier tonight? ‘A pair of tortured souls’? I guess it’s kinda true.”

  He chuckled. “Sad, but true. You make me feel…comfortable. At ease. Like I can do or say anything.” He paused and wound his fingers through mine. “I like being with you, Charlotte.”

  I tilted my head and studied his face. “Are you hitting on me, Ezra?”

  He laughed under his breath and lowered his head. “Yeah, I am.” He looked at me through his thick lashes. “Is that okay?”

  My heart started to drive a steady drumbeat in my chest. I could feel it throughout my entire body, throbbing in every pulse point. “That depends. Are you ever going to kiss me?”

  I knew it was bold, but I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t afraid of the crazy, swirling feelings Ezra stirred up in me, or the way my heart turned into a jackhammer when I was around him, or the other foreign responses my body had whenever I was near him. This wasn’t my first kiss, and Ezra certainly wasn’t my first crush, but I’d never felt this way about anyone else. I’d never wanted someone to kiss me as badly as I wanted Ezra to kiss me in that moment.

  Without a word, he bent, cupping my face gently in his hands. He brushed his lips over mine, and even though it was a light touch, it made my insides turn to mush. His lips were warm and soft—everything I’d been trying to avoid daydreaming about.

  He met my eyes briefly before pressing his lips back to mine, harder this time. Sweet and soft with a kick of heat, it was everything a first kiss should be. It was the best first kiss I’d ever had, and it made me forget about all the other kisses I’d had, and all the other boys I’d done the kissing with.

  When Ezra pulled away, I felt dazed. It took my eyes a second to focus, and when they did, the soft smile on his face liquefied what was left of my insides.

  “Good night, Charlotte,” he whispered, his lips brushing mine again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I nodded dumbly, and his smile brightened. He pressed a kiss to my cheek and walked slowly from the porch, casting glances over his shoulder every few seconds. When he reached his back door, he motioned for me to go inside. I waved and stepped into the house, relieved there was no sign of Dad in the living room.

  I climbed the stairs slowly, my legs still a bit wobbly after that amazing kiss.

  “Well, well, look who’s stumbling in so late…or should I say early?”

  I just barely contained a cry of surprise as I whirled around to face Ella. She was smirking at me, and I rolled my eyes. “Sorry, Ella, not even you can ruin my night.”

  “It’s Gabriella,” she snapped. She was leaning in the doorway of her room, arms crossed. I was surprised to find her in her nightgown, face makeup free, and hair loose around her shoulders. She looked so young, and it reminded me of how she used to look
as a little girl—back when we still considered each other best friends, before things got complicated. I was starting to soften toward her until she said, “What would Mom think of you spending the night out with a boy?”

  I knew she was trying to goad me, and I refused to take the bait. “I don’t know, Gabriella, what would she think of the things you’ve been doing lately? I have nothing to be ashamed of. Can you say the same?”

  Ella stepped forward, her arms falling to her sides where her hands bunched into fists. “How dare you, you bi—”

  “Bitch, yeah, yeah I know,” I interrupted tiredly. “Try to come up with something more original, would you?”

  Before she could respond, I stepped into my room and closed the door, amazed and relieved that my happy buzz hadn’t been killed by my sister.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The sun was streaming in my window when I opened my eyes the next morning. My first thought was so much for the rain Ezra predicted, and my second thought was simply Ezra. Ezra, who shared secrets with me last night and held my hand and kissed me. Ezra, who understood the pain and anger and fear.

  I smiled and closed my eyes again, stretching in my bed before rolling to the edge and sitting up. I’d fallen asleep about an hour after I got home, while the sky was still dark and the stars still burned. It was just after ten now, and I could hear hammering from outside, so I knew Ezra was working.

  After a quick shower, I got dressed and finger-combed my hair, deciding to leave it down and let it air dry. I bounded down the stairs, glad there was no sign of Ella, and made my way into the kitchen. A note from Dad was stuck to the fridge, and I plucked it free.

  Gone to the bookstore to pick up a special order. Ella’s out with friends. There are smoothies in the fridge for you and Ezra. Be back by noon. Dad

  “Aww, Dad,” I murmured to myself. I opened the fridge and smiled as I pulled out the smoothies, taking a sip as I made my way through the living room and out the back door.

  Ezra was hard at work on the new porch, measuring and cutting boards. His light-blue t-shirt was drenched with sweat and stuck to his back. Dark-blue cargo shorts rode low on his hips, and he wore a hat to protect his face from the sun. His back was to me, so I took a minute to enjoy the view, watching the muscles ripple under his shirt.