An elderly man exited the nearby café and the mouth-watering aroma of fried chicken wafted over her, making her stomach growl. The man gave Stormy a smile and a curt nod of acknowledgement. She returned his smile with a slight wave before continuing her journey down the sidewalk. And then there it was. Three stores down, Trudy’s Treasures, in all of its purple, red, and neon green glory was practically smacking her in the face. It was such a stark contrast to the neighboring shops that it was a little startling, but in a good way. How she didn’t notice it sooner was baffling to her.
She checked her reflection in the glass, smoothing her ponytail and straightening her baby blue cardigan, before pulling on the heavy glass door. Immediately she was taken in by the vibrancy of the place with its bold colors and touches of whimsy everywhere. It was like something out of a fantasy. Every inch of the place was covered in bright colors and textured fabrics. Two plush, overstuffed, red-orange armchairs just begged to have someone curl up in them with a good book and a warm beverage. The scent of coffee and mint permeated the air. It was comforting and inviting and not at all what she had expected, since most old buildings smelled of dust and mothballs.
“Hello?” It didn’t appear as though anyone was there at first. The place was eerily quiet. Then she heard the faint rustling of paper coming from behind a shimmery, jewel colored, beaded curtain in the rear of the store. The beads parted and an attractive, fortyish-looking woman with a mass of purply-red curls appeared.
“Hey there! You must be Stormy, right?” Her burgundy-lipped smile was a beam of sunshine and her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.
“Yes. That’s me.”
“Give me just a second, sweetie. Be right with ya!” The curtain swallowed her up again with a swish.
The sheer volume of stuff in the place was amazing. It was an amusement park for the eyes with its eclectic mix of quirky outfits, colorful trinkets, bold pieces of jewelry, and rustic home accessories. Everywhere Stormy looked there was something to ogle, and then her eyes landed on a pop of purple that looked out of place. Hanging amongst the tie-dye shirts and leopard print leggings was the most beautiful, most elegant dress she’d ever seen. She plucked it off the rack and held it up, admiring the way the light played off the satiny fabric.
Such a stunning garment—shimmering violet overlaid with delicate ivory lace—she was drawn to it, almost as if it was calling to her, begging to be worn. It was a stark contrast to anything in her closet, which wasn’t much, and she couldn’t help but run her fingers over the soft, cool fabric. For just a moment, she closed her eyes and imagined what it would feel like to wear such a dress, could practically feel the satin swishing against her legs.
Trudy’s voice broke through her thoughts. “You like coffee?” she hollered from behind the curtain.
“Yeah, sure.” With a small, reluctant sigh she placed the dress back on the rack and continued her perusal of the store. There was a brief clattering of dishes and then Trudy reappeared with two bright yellow ceramic mugs in tow.
“Here ya go, hon. I hope you like peppermint. It’s my own concoction and it might not be for everybody,” she warned with a half grin.
Stormy lifted the cup to her lips an inhaled deeply, “It smells heavenly.” She took a timid sip and couldn’t contain the little moan of satisfaction that escaped as the sweet, nutty, minty goodness rolled across her tongue. Trudy chuckled and gave a little wink, “Glad you like it.” Now let’s step into my office.” She waved Stormy over to the big orange chairs that had caught her eye previously. Stormy set her cup on the little wicker coffee table and resisted the urge to curl up like a cat on the overly soft piece of furniture.
Trudy sipped her coffee and placed it on the table. “Well, my name is Trudy Carmine. I’m the owner of this little jewel,” she said while spreading her arms out wide, “But I imagine you already figured that part out.”
Stormy smiled and nodded.
“Now, tell me. How in the heck did such a pretty little thing like you end up here in Nowheresville, Texas?”
“My mama’s boyfriend lives here….” Ugh. Stormy twisted her hands together in her lap to keep from burying her face in them. She should have anticipated that question and come up with something that didn’t sound so…pathetic.
Trudy cocked a perfectly sculpted eyebrow toward the pink ceiling. “I see,” she said knowingly. “Well, things do tend to happen that way sometimes.” She waved dismissively and moved on. “I’m a transplant myself. From Austin. Been here going on three years now. My uncle got sick a while back and asked me if I was interested in buying him out. He never had any kids of his own to offer it to, and I didn’t have much else going on at the time…so, here I am.”
Trudy, as Stormy soon found out, was blessed with the gift of gab. She and Stormy talked…and talked…and talked. And Stormy welcomed it. Trudy’s rich, twangy voice was like a warm blanket on a cold day. A stark contrast from her mother’s shrill bark, Trudy’s voice was comforting. And it made her forget the loneliness that awaited her at home. Trudy conveyed a genuine interest in what Stormy had to say—which was a drop in the bucket compared to Trudy—but Trudy clung to her every word nonetheless.
A half hour and another cup of coffee later, the pair stood and Trudy clasped both of Stormy’s hands in hers, “You’re going to be a wonderful addition here. We’re going to have so much fun! I can already tell.”
“I can hardly wait. Thank you so much for the opportunity,” Stormy said with a big smile. And she meant every word.
****
When Stormy stepped out into the remainder of the afternoon sun, she felt lighter. Happier. Her interview couldn’t have gone better and she felt more normal that she had in a long time. She sucked in a long, cleansing breath before crossing the street. As soon as she stepped off the curb, something brown and furry skittered past her, and she was unable to suppress a yelp. Stupid squirrel.
“Better watch out. Those things can be deadly to unsuspecting victims,” said a masculine voice from somewhere behind her.
A tall gangly guy with a mop of sandy blond waves was leaning against the end of the building facing the library.
She eyed him suspiciously. “What are you talking about? Squirrels aren’t dangerous.” Is this guy nuts?
His eyes widened and he glared at Stormy like she was the one with a few screws loose. “Ohhhh. You mean, you don’t know?” he asked incredulously.
She shifted her weight to one foot and put her hands on her hips. “Don’t know what?” she asked flatly. Her creep meter was tugging at her insides but she didn’t want to let her weariness show, so she tried to look bored and uninterested.
The guy was persistent. “That wasn’t some ordinary squirrel… It was el chupardilla.”
“Chupa…what?” her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.
“El chupardilla.” He made the l’s sound like a y. “According to Mexican legend, it’s a squirrel-chupacabra hybrid. They look and act just like regular tree squirrels…but don’t let that fool you. They have sharp fangs and a taste for human blood. If one of them latches onto you… you’re a goner.”
She lowered her eyes at him. “Bullshit.” She was ninety-eight percent sure he was making it up, but the other two percent had her glancing around for signs of the deadly squirrel.
The uncertainty was plastered all over her face and the guy burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at her expense. “Nah. I’m just messing with you. Those things are more of a nuisance than anything,” he finally admitted. Then he added, “The ones around here are pretty tame actually. They’ll even let you pick them up and pet them.”
“Will they really let you hold them?” She felt stupid the moment the words left her mouth. She looked down at the gutter, thinking she’d like to crawl into it. How could she be so gullible? And what was it about this guy that had her second guessing herself?
His mouth turned up in a smirk, “Only if you don’t mind losing a finger. Bastards got sharp-ass teeth. And t
hat part is true.”
His beaming smile was infectious, and now they were both standing in the street grinning at each other like a couple of idiots.
Stormy took a hair tie out of her pocket and twisted her hair up while thinking of something else to say. “Hey, aren’t you in Ms. Knoll’s biology lab?” She tried to remember his name. Buzz? Fozz? Fuzz?
“Yep. You sit at the second lab table on the left side and you always twirl your hair around your finger when the teacher starts asking the class questions. Like you’re nervous about being called on or something. It’s actually pretty cute.” He lowered his eyes and his cheeks flushed when he realized he’d said too much. He was cute, in a sort of puppy dog way, with those big green eyes and floppy hair. And he’d made her laugh, which was always a bonus. When it came to friendship material, humor was at the top of her list.
Starting to look uncomfortable from the strained silence that had settled between them, the guy shifted his weight from one foot to the other before extending his hand. “I’m Nozz, by the way.”
“Stormy.” She grabbed his hand for a quick squeeze. Another few moments of awkwardness passed. “Well, it was good to meet you. I should probably get going.” She started walking backward in the direction of her truck.
Nozz stuffed his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans and rocked back on his heels. “Yeah, me too. See you at school.” Then the left side of his mouth turned up into a lopsided smile. “Be sure and watch out for those blood-suckers….”
He was a smartass. She liked him instantly.
****
The windows were down, whipping hair all over her head, and the radio cranked out a 90’s pop tune that had Stormy drumming her thumbs on the steering wheel. Optimism thrummed in her veins, and for the first time in a long, long time, she felt like things might turn out okay for a change.
And then she spotted the rusty yellow jeep in the driveway.
Dread hung over her like a dark cloud as she made her way up the wobbly front steps. Stormy and Mama didn’t get visitors. Stormy’s dad had always been a big question mark in her life, and there was no other family to speak of since Mama’s family had disowned her before Stormy was born.
Smoke billowed out the front door when Stormy pulled it open, and she was immediately overwhelmed by the stench of cigarettes and marijuana. She coughed and made a futile attempt to fan the smoke away from her face.
“It’s about time you dragged yourself in here,” Mama drawled. “This here is my Bill,” she said with a wink. She was draped over a big, hairy, all-too-comfortable looking man on the couch. The middle-aged biker wannabe lifted his cigarette wielding hand a couple of inches off his knee in a sort of half-wave of acknowledgement as he grunted a salutation, “Hey.”
Stormy echoed his flat greeting, “Hey.”
His heavily hooded, bloodshot eyes met hers for a split second before traveling all over her body and then settling on her chest. It sent creepy crawlies up and down her spine. She cleared her throat loudly as she protectively crossed her arms over her chest before shooting her mother a questioning glare. Hello? Do you see this?
Marni was oblivious to the silent assault to her daughter. “We were just about to go get somethin’ to eat. Then we’re heading over to The Rusty Fender. I hear they need a waitress. I don’t know how late we’ll be so you’ll have to fend for yourself for supper,” Marni informed her.
Stormy sat on the urge to say something sarcastic. She always fended for herself. Today was no different. It wasn’t like Mama was going to make a meal. She’d worked in bars for as long as Stormy could remember, so her schedule didn’t exactly put her home in time for dinner.
Not in the mood for a fight, Stormy opted for the simplest response, “That’s okay. I grabbed a sandwich earlier.” She flopped down in the broken down recliner on the opposite side of the room and covered herself with a throw pillow, the green one that reminded her of pea soup. Ugly or not, it provided a shield between her and the Neanderthal on the couch who was still molesting her with his eyes. She glared at him and wished he could read her mind. The silent message she was sending him was anything but nice.
Chapter Four
After Mama and Bill sputtered away in his sorry-looking jeep, Stormy felt restless. For the sake of having something to do, she washed the dishes, wiped down the counters, and got rid of the stench in the ashtrays that littered the living room. But after all of that, she was still too keyed up from the day’s events to relax. Glancing at the digital clock on the stove, she realized it was still early enough to head back to the school for a much needed run on the track. It would be a good way to burn off some steam and clear her mind. And the exercise certainly couldn’t hurt considering that her jeans were fitting a little snugger than they used to.
The absence of cars in the stadium parking lot was a good sign, meaning Stormy would have the whole track to herself. She pulled her keys from the ignition and grabbed her can of pepper spray from the glove compartment—because a girl could never be too careful—and then nudged the truck door closed with her hip. It was taking more and more effort to get the thing closed, and she made a mental note to get it fixed when she was able to afford it.
The football stadium was not as glamorous as she’d expected, considering the school’s reputable football standing. The grass field, where she had expected Astroturf, was dotted with brown patches and the red dirt track was in serious need of repair. The surface looked uneven and the white stripes dividing the lanes were barely visible.
The sun had begun to set, casting long scary shadows over everything, and the temperature had dropped several degrees just in the short time it had taken her to make the drive over. Her skin prickled a little, partly because of the chill, and largely because of how eerie and desolate the place looked. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw something move amongst the shadows. Was something there, or was her imagination working overtime?
Just as she was about to completely psyche herself out and return to the safety of her truck, the stadium lights clicked on, illuminating the entire field. Figuring they must be on a timer, she shook off the heebie jeebies, did a few warm up stretches, and then commenced with her jog.
One lap.
Two laps.
Three laps.
Side stitch.
“Owe!” She pressed her hand to her side and pushed through the pain. She couldn’t believe how out of shape she’d gotten in just a few weeks. She used to be able to run two miles before breaking a sweat. Determined to make at least one more lap, she pressed on despite the trembling in her fatigued calf muscles. The pain in her side eased up though, thankfully, so she focused on keeping one foot in front of the other until she got to the finish line.
Just as she rounded the last curve, a figure stepped out from the shadows and scared the bejeezus out of her. For the longest time he just stood there, watching. Was he stalking her…or was she just being paranoid?
She was only a few yards from the gated exit, but the man was standing right next to the track…between her and the only egress out of there. She had no other option but to go past him. Shit.
It was time for fight or flight, and she chose the latter.
Her adrenaline bolted her into a full run. If the guy was a threat, then he’d have to catch her to kill her. If he was just some poor sap that happened to be there…then she’d just look like a jackass.
She wasn’t about to stick around long enough to find out.
****
It was the end of a long week and Brylan had just finished grading his first set of quizzes. His co-workers preferred to take their work home with them, but Brylan opted to leave work at work. He didn’t want anything looming over his head all weekend. Besides, his dad had invited him to go fishing on Sunday. And Brylan knew what that meant. It was code for I want to butt into your personal life.
He seriously doubted he’d be in any mood for grading papers after that, so it was better to go on and get it out of t
he way.
He wiped down the chalkboard and grabbed his jacket before flipping off the light and locking up. Something in the back of his mind nagged at him on the way to the faculty parking lot, but he couldn’t quite place it… until he started his car and the headlights came to life. “Damn it.” He’d almost forgotten about the stadium lights. Someone had reported that some of the bulbs were out, and Cooper had asked if Brylan could take a look so it could be reported to maintenance.
Brylan slammed the car door and zipped up his light jacket to ward off the biting wind. The chilled air put an urgency in his steps as he made his way across campus. The quicker he got this done, the better. By the time he reached the control shack his fingers were numb. He fumbled with the massive set of keys and cursed, “Damn it!” None of the damned things were marked, meaning he’d have to find the right one through process of elimination.
Weathering Stormy Page 3