She hoped with all her might that his words were true, but she had her doubts. He hadn’t seen the contempt on her mother’s face, or heard the vile words that oozed out of her mouth. She focused her attention on the sensation on her back…the small circles Brylan was gently rubbing.
Stormy didn’t know how much time had passed while she stayed wrapped in Brylan’s little bubble of refuge, and she didn’t care. She could have stayed that way forever. There, with Brylan, with nothing but the ticking of the wall clock and the faint hum of the refrigerator to disturb them. It was just the two of them. No Mama. No Bill. No awful stories or twisted emotions. For those few minutes, it all just melted away. It felt good to just…be.
And then something in the air suddenly shifted. Brylan released his hold on her and leaned back against the couch with a long sigh. Stormy worked hard to hide her disappointment. She didn’t want to be thrown back into her cold reality just yet.
“The garage apartment is almost finished. How about you stay up there for a while? For as long as you need to. Give yourself some time to think and figure things out.”
The offer stunned her. It was a proposition that was fraught with peril, posing a danger to his career. As well as her heart. She rolled it over in her head, trying to come up with a solution that was more…safe, but she was coming up empty. And going back home simply wasn’t an option.
“Are you sure, Brylan? I don’t want to cause you any problems.”
“It’s absolutely fine. I mean it.”
“Well, I can’t afford to pay you anything right now, but...”
He cut her off. “Stormy. Please. I don’t expect anything. I just want you to be safe. Hell, it’s just as much for me as it is for you. I couldn’t rest at night if I didn’t know you were okay.”
There it was again. That sincere concern. Hesitantly, she nodded her agreement to stay. She dismissed the confusing thoughts that were trying to make their way to the surface. They were just friends. He told her so.
So why did it feel like more than that?
Now that the adrenaline high had worn off, the exhaustion—physical, mental, emotional—was starting to weigh her down. It had been the day from hell and she was past ready for it to be over. She would think about tomorrow when tomorrow came.
She followed Brylan to the door, admiring the way his back muscles moved underneath his white tee-shirt, and then another thought hit her. She didn’t have a single material possession to her name other than the clothes on her back.
“Uh, Brylan? I hate to ask you for anything else. You’ve been so great to me already…”
“Whatever you need, Stormy. Name it.”
“Can I use your washing machine?”
Chapter Ten
Brylan flopped down on the couch and ran his hands through his hair. For two days he’d been losing his mind with worry, pacing a hole in the carpet of his living room, and agonizing over whether or not to go to the garage apartment and knock on the door. So many times he’d been tempted, but he’d talked himself out of it. Stormy needed time and space to deal with her demons. As bad as he hated it, he knew it was something she had to do on her own. Experience had taught him that…that when the world smacked you right in the face and threatened to drag you down into the bowels of hell, the only thing to do was to fight, scratch, and claw your way out. No amount of consoling, no amount of talking would do it. And his heart bled for her.
But on the third day, having not seen so much as a peep out of her, his worry won out over rationale. He needed to see if she was okay.
****
When Stormy woke up on Saturday morning her body still ached, her mouth was sticky, and her eyes were gritty. Her first thought was to call in sick, again, and crawl back under the covers with her angst. But then she remembered the pact she’d made with herself before she’d gone to sleep the night before. No more wallowing. But depression was a sly son-of-a-bitch, and she’d almost let it worm its way in again. She needed to be vigilant, and continuing to lie around in bed was only inviting trouble.
For two days she’d been riding the proverbial rollercoaster of emotions. Stormy wasn’t sure what all the different stages of grief were, but she was sure she must have experienced most of them. At first, she had taken a head-long dive into denial. Her mother was just drunk and made the whole thing up, and none of that stuff had really happened. Maybe she just wanted Stormy out of the house and used that story as an excuse to get rid of her.
But then she remembered the look in Mama’s eyes…stricken, odious, and indignant. The truth was the truth and there was no way around it. Her mother had suffered an assault, Stormy was the result, and her mother hated her for being a constant reminder.
And then the denial morphed into anger. It came crashing down on her in violent waves and filled her with questions that had no answers. What kind of vile creature could hurt a young girl the way Ted hurt Mama? Why had God allowed it to happen? Why did Mama blame her for something she had no control over? And if Mama hated her so much, why had she bothered to keep her?
The notion picked at the edges of her brain until a revelation took hold, one that became almost tangible. Mama had kept her. She didn’t have to…but she did. She hadn’t given her away. Hadn’t done away with her. She’d had options, and yet she’d chosen to keep Stormy. A sliver of hope shined in the darkness. It was something. Something she could hold on to. So, she tucked it away in her mind for later.
And then, just when she’d found something to latch on to, the dark pit of depression threatened to suck her in again, whispering in her ear, pointing out all the things that were wrong in her life. She was alone, without much money, living in the apartment of a man that she adored, but couldn’t have, and she didn’t have a clue what her future held. The weight of it all pressed down her, taunting her like a bully on the playground. It was an endless circle of doubt, resentment, and fear that snaked its way over, around and through until she just couldn’t take it anymore.
Enough!
She was done with the tears. Done with torturing herself. She knew that if she didn’t climb out of the hole, then she might just get buried alive. Like her mama had.
And she’d be damned if she’d let that shit happen.
Grudgingly, she dragged herself out of bed and over to the refrigerator where she remembered seeing a couple of water bottles. She was chugging the water as if it were the last bottle on earth, not caring about the little streams that dribbled down her chin, when she heard a rap on the door.
Her heart started thundering in her chest and she froze.
Oh no! She found me.
“Stormy? You up?” Brylan called from the other side of the wooden door.
Whew. Thank you, God. “I’ll be right there.”
She rushed to the bathroom to splash some water on her face, silently wishing she had a toothbrush. On the way to the door she made a mental note to pick up a couple of much needed toiletry items on the way home from Trudy’s.
“Good morning,” she opened the door to reveal a very spry-looking Brylan. How did he manage to look so good so early in the morning?
“G’mornin,’ sleepyhead,” he responded with a grin. Then he held out a grease-stained paper bag and a brown paper cup. “Breakfast.”
“Awe. That was sweet of you. You really didn’t need to do that.” She peeked in the bag curiously.
“I didn’t know what you liked so I got you a ham and cheese croissant and donuts.”
Stormy smiled. “Well, I plan to eat both, so don’t judge,” she said as she fished a syrupy glazed donut out of the bag. She was starving, having survived on peanut butter crackers for two days. She stuffed the donut in her mouth while her eyes roamed over Brylan greedily. The food looked good, but not nearly as good as Brylan did. He was casually leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his broad chest and the left side of his mouth was turned up in a smirk, revealing the little hollow in his cheek that she loved so much. He was purely masculine
in his chambray button down work shirt, which had been left open to reveal a snug white tee-shirt underneath. It was tucked into a pair of faded, worn out jeans that had holes worn in the knees and hung loosely on his narrow hips.
Right now the only thing Stormy wanted for breakfast was him.
“I probably should have loaned you my bathrobe,” he said, still grinning.
“Huh,” she said through a mouthful of donut. Then realization hit her. The thin tee-shirt that she borrowed from Brylan left little to the imagination. Her cheeks flamed with mortification as she snatched a blanket from the futon and wrapped herself in it. “Sorry. I was still half asleep and I wasn’t expecting anybody.”
Brylan chuckled. “Hey. I’m not complaining.”
She gave him a little punch in the shoulder, but she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Perv!”
“Is that the best you’ve got? We’re gonna have to work on that right hook,” he laughed some more.
“Trust me, you don’t want to find out,” she mock threatened. Now if you don’t mind, I have to get ready for work.”
“Actually,” his voice took on a more serious tone, “I wanted to ask you if it was okay if Nozz and I come inside and finish up some things while you’re out.”
“Oh. Yeah, sure. It’s your place after all. You don’t need my permission.”
“Uh, actually, for now it’s your place and I wouldn’t feel comfortable barging in.”
A light breeze could have knocked her over. Brylan’s thoughtfulness never ceased to amaze her.
“Oh, by the way, I was also wondering if you might be up for a fishing trip next Sunday with me, my dad, and Nozz. I thought we could all use some down time…if you’re up to it, that is.”
She considered the idea for a moment. Maybe it would be good to get away from everything for a little while. Put some distance between her and Mama…and the horrors of that dreadful night. “I haven’t been fishing in years. That sounds perfect, actually. Trudy’s is closed on Sundays and I don’t have anything else to do.”
Something resembling relief crossed Brylan’s face and his eyes brightened. “Well alright then. I’ll let Nozz know.” His work boots clomped down the stairs. When he got to the bottom he looked up and gave her a little wave. “See you later.”
“Bye.”
Stormy pushed the door closed and leaned her back against it.
He had flirted with her. Right? And his invitation to take her on a fishing trip with the guys…what was that all about? Once again, her mind was a tangled mess. Had she misconstrued things yet again? Trudy’s words played in her head, he’d better watch his p’s and q’s…or else.
There’s no way Brylan would throw away his career and his reputation for the sake of some girl he hardly knew. That would be stupid. He was being nice. Period. She reminded herself that that’s the kind of person he was—the cowboy in the white hat, the knight in shining armor.
She just wished someone would explain it to her heart.
****
Trudy eyed Stormy suspiciously. “Aren’t those the same clothes you were wearing Wednesday?”
Stormy grimaced. “Unfortunately, yes. I hoped you wouldn’t notice.”
“I notice everything, girlfriend. Now, are you going to tell me what happened or are you going to keep me guessing for the rest of the day?”
Judging by the way Trudy was tapping the glass display case with her fingernails, and the way she was staring at her with an eyebrow raised, there was no way of getting around it. It was the moment she’d been dreading all day. Trudy was the salt of the earth and had a heart as big as Texas, but she was also her boss. And Stormy really didn’t want to revisit that whole nasty scene again. So far, she’d been doing a pretty fair job of keeping herself busy so she wouldn’t have time to think about it.
“It’s a long story. Maybe we should wait until later…when the store closes.”
Trudy sashayed over to the door and flipped the sign over to the side that said closed. “Done. I’ll make the coffee. You sit.” She pointed to the orange chairs. Stormy filled her cheeks with air and blew it out slowly as she made her way across the store. She slipped off her shoes and tucked her feet up under her while she waited for Trudy. It didn’t take long for her eyelids to become heavy. If Trudy didn’t hurry, she might fall fast asleep right there in the store.
She watched as a lady walked up to the door, scrunched her face in confusion, and then turned around. Stormy felt a little bad for her. Technically, the store should have been open for another fifteen minutes. Stormy’s mess had officially carried over to Trudy’s store, and she may have missed a sale because of it. She groaned internally. How had things gotten so screwed up? She leaned into the softness of the chair and closed her eyes. She was just drifting off when she felt Trudy’s warm fingers brush across her cheek and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “You look like you’ve been through the ringer, baby girl.”
Stormy sat up straight and reached up for the mug of coffee being extended to her. “You could say that.”
Trudy took the seat adjacent to hers and sipped on her coffee while Stormy formed a mental outline of what to say. The pain on her face couldn’t be missed.
“Sweetie, it’s okay if you really don’t want to go into it. I just thought it might help to get whatever it is off your chest.” Her eyes were sincere. Trudy’s curiosity was coming from a place of genuine concern. She had that motherly quality that her own mother had always lacked. Stormy had often wondered why Trudy didn’t have any kids of her own. She would have made a great mom.
“It’s been a rough couple of days,” she began. And then she told Trudy every grim detail…from the empty whiskey bottle to Brylan’s offer to let her stay in his garage apartment. It was the first time she’d ever seen Trudy speechless, and it was making her nervous.
An eternity passed before Trudy finally spoke. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m just trying to process everything.”
“It’s okay, Trudy. It’s a lot to take in, I’m sure.”
“You poor, poor baby. It’s just not fair for your mama to treat you that way…no matter what. A child is….” She took a steadying breath, and her eyes lit with anger. “You are a blessing, Stormy Black! Do you hear me? A blessing! And don’t you ever think otherwise.” She was shaking her finger at Stormy and the words were tipped with fury. Stormy recoiled a little bit from the outburst. The words were harsh, but they were coming from a place of love. Stormy knew the anger was directed at her mother, not her.
A lone tear spilled over the rim of Trudy’s bottom lid and slid down her face. Stormy startled when Trudy stood up and pulled her into a hug so tight that she gasped for air. Reflexively, she wanted to push her off, but the death grip told her that something else was going on. Something in Stormy’s story had touched something inside Trudy. It had stirred up something in her. Something hidden. Something dark. As much as Trudy was comforting her, Stormy felt that she was somehow comforting Trudy too. So, she let Trudy cling to her…for as long as they both needed it.
When Trudy finally did release her from the bear hug, she looked flustered. “Oh, my. I bet I’m a complete mess,” she said while she wiping at her eyes with her fingers. Then she tugged her pink peasant blouse back into place and fiddled with the big purple flower on her headband.
“Nope. Still pretty as ever,” Stormy reassured her.
“Now Stormy, I’m the one that’s supposed to be making you feel better. Not the other way around,” she playfully scolded. “Now, about your things…. I have a whole box of clothes from twenty pounds ago that I think would fit you just fine. It’s just sitting in my closet collecting dust. We’ll head over to my house later so that I can give them to you.”
“Really?” Stormy’s face lit up with hope. “That would be great, Trudy. Thank you.” She gave Trudy’s outfit a once-over and a sliver of worry washed over her. She was in no position to be picky…but she wondered just what kind of stuff Trudy planned to dress her in
.
“Don’t worry, hon. I wasn’t always this outlandish,” she said with a wink.
Okay…that was freaky.
****
Trudy’s house was exactly the way Stormy had pictured. It was colorful, just like the shop, with mismatched furniture and trinkets everywhere, and the walls were covered in an eclectic mix of pop art and old tapestries. It matched Trudy’s personality perfectly.
“I’m going to go dig that box out of my closet. I’ll be right back. Feel free to watch TV or get a drink out of the fridge if you want.”
“Do you need any help?”
“No, baby. I’ve got it,” she gave a dismissive wave, “Just make yourself at home.”
Still feeling a little dehydrated, Stormy headed to the kitchen to take her up on the drink offer. The contents of the refrigerator had her gawking in awe. Her food choices were just as eccentric as Trudy was. There were tons of brightly colored vegetables, some of which she’d only seen on cooking shows, a dish of left-over sushi, diet Pepsi, regular Coke, fat-free mayonnaise and salad dressings, a tub of real butter, and what looked to be a homemade apple pie. She let out a little chuckle while she swiped a can of Coke and then headed back to the living room.
Weathering Stormy Page 10