The Storm (Fairhope)

by Laura Lexington

  I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  The owner’s gaze lingered on me as he resumed his chatter about next Friday’s art walk.

  Grace is watching over you, Jana. My heart started beating again as I felt the warm embrace of the whisper, trying to forget the woman across the street who could have been Grace’s twin.

  My heart smiled sighs of relief as I breathed in the whisper of a new season in my life. Sprawled across the beach with a mystery novel in my hand, I watched the aqua waves roll smoothly toward the beckoning shore. I reflected on life as I waited for everyone else to join me. It was late April, and the settlement was finalized. The day after my story hit the local news, I ran into Collin at Olive Garden in Mobile. He stared at me, deadpan, and said nothing. I got what I needed most—to know I could face the colleagues who bullied me without falling apart. I would never see Jeff again, but rumor had it that he got caught with his pants down with a nurse in Montgomery. Brooke texted me that things were going well at Medtronic and asked if we could go to lunch sometime. Maybe someday.

  The case was over, and I shared my story with the local newspaper. Snippets of information made it to television a couple of times during the discovery period. Being the daughter-in-law of a former United States senator shoved me in the media spotlight sooner than others might have been. I followed Jack’s orders and threw out “no comment” more times than I could count, until now. When it was safe to talk, I answered their questions. The interview gave me an opportunity to present my website.

  My website soared well beyond my expectations after the news of my settlement. Dr. Tynes and many other former customers contacted me with words of encouragement. My story’s exposure granted me the privilege of contacting the best attorneys and therapists in the country, and I was starting to generate publicity. Women could use the site to understand gender discrimination law, locate attorneys to help them, and download resources to help deal with the issue, including the unwelcome effects of stress. Additionally, victims could find instructions on how to document behavior and protect themselves.

  After launching in late February, the website received six hundred hits in the first six weeks. I was stunned at the amount of blog responses from “non-feminists” like me who simply wanted, and deserved, their careers … a corporate executive who was “shifted” to a lower level months after she announced her pregnancy … an expecting hairdresser whose salon owner suggested that she choose another career that would get her off her feet … an accounting manager who was flat-out told that she should not have children. Sadie said I was a bodhisattva—an individual who uses his or her pain to help others escape the same fate. I liked that.

  I could not save Grace, but now that my perfect storm had passed, I could help others.

  The bitterness I felt over her death faded into a faraway memory, and my nightmares about it finally stopped, replaced with desperately needed sleep. Her friendship was irreplaceable, and not a day would go by when tears did not threaten to come, but I chose to cherish that beautiful friendship and hope for the day when we met again.

  “Pizza’s here!” Andrew yelled, busting out the back door with his arms full. Followed by Gavin, Holly and her husband, and everyone’s kids, they made their way to the beach where chairs were set up. We escaped to the Cooks’ house with our posse in tow.

  I watched Andrew holding Calla’s hand, as she wobbled down the beach with her cute fat legs. I felt a smile of appreciation spread across my features, my heart bursting with love for my family of three. I pressed my feet into the sand, making sure I could feel its grit … making sure this life of mine was real. Calla’s personality blossomed daily, her eyes glowing with the beauty of the moon that painted soft streaks of light through her dark locks on nights like this one. We settled in her existence full of contagious laughter and bold new words. Like her parents, she thirsted for the beach and was one with the sunshine.

  “Congratulations, Jana.” Gavin flashed me his handsome smile, offering me the box of pepperoni pizza, the only kind I would eat. I saw a few bikini-clad women a few houses down staring our way, no doubt drooling over his shirtless chest. Gavin was doing better, but I knew his tender heart was caught between the two extremes of holding on to the love he lost … and reaching for the new life he needed to create with Emma.

  My painting sold that morning … the one of the woman on the beach. It was perfect timing, changing our plans for a casual hangout for the evening to one of celebration.

  “Thank you so much!” I replied, removing three slices from the box and handing it back. “I’m pumped! I can’t wait to find out who bought it, if that’s possible.”

  “Are you working on any more?” Gavin asked, leaning back in a beach chair, exposing his six feet one inch of suntanned sexiness.

  “I’m almost finished with my second one.” Twinkling my toes, I always got excited at the mention of my art. “You need to come over and tell me what you think!”

  Andrew brought a whining Emma, who was caked with sand in all the wrong places, back to her father. “Think we may have a problem here.”

  Emma coughed and reached for Gavin, her entire head covered with sand.

  I heard movement behind me, and something told me to turn around.

  Sadie stood there in a green bikini top and short jean shorts, her eyes sparkling with a smile.

  “Sadie!” Not expecting her, but thrilled she was there, I nearly knocked her down with my hug.

  “I ran into Andrew’s mom in town earlier, and she told me you were here. I came down this weekend for a teaching convention. Thought I’d surprise you!”

  The one who looked the most surprised was Gavin, who was all of a sudden so flustered he could not speak. Andrew and I exchanged a knowing glance as Sadie shuffled her feet nervously. The sexual tension between them fogged up the clear night air, obvious to everyone.

  “Gavin, I don’t think you’ve met my friend Sadie,” I said casually, trying not to embarrass anyone.

  At that moment, Emma spotted Sadie and ran to her, squealing loudly with arms wide open. Giggling, Sadie scooped her up and kissed her on the cheek, working around the wet sand. “I remember you, sweet girl!” To Gavin, she said sweetly, “Nice to meet you.”

  “I see you’ve met Emma?” Gavin’s eyes held many questions. “She’s usually not too keen on strangers.”

  “She was on Sadie,” I boasted, sipping my Coke. “They met at lunch one day, and they were immediately old friends.”

  Gavin watched the two of them playing, somewhat perplexed but clearly intrigued.

  Holly’s kids left their floats and surfboards to play with the babies. The night could not have been more perfect, ending with a picturesque sunset and a game of volleyball, girls against the guys, while my in-laws tucked the kids in bed. Gavin and Sadie talked shyly, the only two absent of significant others. She was fascinated with his detective work, and he thought it was fabulous that she dedicated her life to teaching children. His eyes lit up when she mentioned helping with choir.

  I was glad that if nothing else, he found a new friend who didn’t know every detail about Grace’s life and death, and she could see there were decent men left in the world.

  “She’s great, isn’t she?” I asked him as we folded chairs when everyone else left.

  His eyes shone with something I wasn’t sure how to define. “You know what, Jana?”

  “What’s that?” A colorful seashell caught my eye, and I bent down to pick it up.

  “She’s more than great. She’s…”

  His gaze was one with the turquoise sunset, his lips silent for several seconds. A jolt of possibility struck me as a hopeful smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. I wanted to pin him down with my curiosity, but I knew it was too soon. What do you mean? Do you like her? What did you talk about? Do you think maybe…

  “…a different kind of wonderful.”

  A different kind of wonderful.

  My smile deepened until my face hurt. Ou
r conversation about Sadie at my house was saved in his memory. The description was fitting, and not only for precious Sadie Singleton. My life, altered forever after coping with the loss of a career and a best friend, would never be the same. I won the lawsuit … but only after losing so much. But as my life’s season transformed from dark skies to sparkling sunshine, I sensed the arrival of a future that was … a different kind of wonderful.

  “I think that’s what we all need.” I linked arms with Gavin, the brilliant seashell in my hand glittering in the last rays of sunset. “A different kind of wonderful.”

  EXCERPT FROM “THE SONG”

  Gavin

  I CLOSED MY eyes, willing myself to be a man and calm down. I knew this moment would come, but it arrived sooner than I was prepared for. I was forced to take this woman out of the shadows. She relinquished protection from the unknown that lay ahead of her. It was time for them to know she existed, time for me to tell the secrets I kept hidden. Secrets they could never have imagined in a million years.

  Her family was stolen from her that awful night, and we were all she had left.

  I told her we should start with Jana. She was intimidated by Jana Cook—her dark beauty and fierce independence—figuring she must be strong and bold to sue a monster like Covington Company. She knew Jana’s bond with Grace was more like sisterhood than friendship. She didn’t know much about either.

  I was furious when she called Jana at home and nearly lost my temper when she followed her in downtown Fairhope like the stalker she claimed she wasn’t. I understood her curiosity, but the introduction could not happen like that. It had been too soon. Way too soon.

  My knees shook uncontrollably, and I hoped I would not faint.

  You’ve got to be strong, man. These people love you.

  “It’s okay,” she said softly, looking at me with eyes identical to the only woman I ever loved. “Jana will listen.”

  I knocked on the door, and, within moments, Andrew Cook let us in.

  “Hey, Gav—” Andrew stopped mid-sentence.

  He stared at me, blinking a few times. He looked at her, a confused expression clouding his features. Soundlessly, he gestured us toward the living room where Jana sat on the couch, her shiny dark hair set in a French braid, her olive skin smooth.

  I steadied her arm so she wouldn’t fall, her body shuddering with anxious anticipation.

  At the sound of our footsteps, Jana’s laughter ceased. She spun to face us. A smile lit up her dark eyes when she saw me, but then her gaze drifted.

  Jana’s smile instantly transformed into an expression of traumatized confusion when she saw her.

  Jana’s lips collapsed in a shocked “O,” her terrified eyes moving from the woman’s blond hair, back to her face, and then racing up and down the length of her body. Trying to rise, she clutched the end table beside her but couldn’t steady herself. Andrew flew to her as she fell down, hitting the floor with a loud thud. In the background, Dr. Phil shouted something about family secrets.

  I felt beads of perspiration forming on my forehead as Andrew tended to Jana.

  Taking a deep breath, I sat down, motioning for the woman beside me to do the same. “Jana, there is someone you need to meet. I know what you’re thinking. And this is going to take a little bit…” I gestured toward the woman who could not help who she was or who she looked like.

  After searching my eyes for reassurance, she extended a shaky hand forward and began to speak in a voice that was familiar to us all.

  “Jana … I’m Alexia King. You can call me Alex.”

  “Thank you” seems too weak to describe my gratitude to those who have taken this journey with me. To the actual victims of gender discrimination who sparked my interest many years ago –your stories, thoughts, and emotions are captured throughout my fictional character. To the individuals, and their families, who suffer from the storm of bipolar disorder – your insight ranged from hope-inspiring to heartbreaking, and I pray for remission for all of you. To the mental health healthcare providers that helped me “show” bipolar disorder – you helped me write a stronger character. To my own “legal counsel”, Nick and Subrena, you gave me the clarity I needed regarding the legal process. To Chris – you were so kind to answer my endless questions on medical device sales.

  To my family and friends who offered their advice and encouragement – you gave me the confidence to pursue my dream. Jessica, Patty, Fallon, Lacey, Sharon, Laura, Nicola, and Lindsay – a special kudos to you guys for your unwavering support and feedback. To the authors who have gone above and beyond to help me learn the ropes – you have saved me hours of life. To my sister – thank you for your brutal honesty and spark of creativity that improved my story. To Mom – thanks for listening to my endless hopes, concerns, and scenarios.

  To Madison Seidler, my editor – your guidance helped me create a much better novel.

  To my husband – words cannot express how lucky I am to have you. I have what every woman wants – a man that treats her like gold. Your love and loyalty give me the passion to pursue my dreams. To my sweet little one – you are truly unique and I look forward to you making me laugh for many years to come.

  And last, but certainly not least, thank you to God for putting the idea in my head, giving me the experience I needed but didn’t necessarily want, and bringing the right people in my life to make this dream a reality. All things truly do work together for good, and I have seen firsthand the priceless positives that emerge from the worst of life’s storms.

  Laura lives in Mississippi with her family, including a precocious cat that acts like a dog. When she’s not daydreaming up future stories, you can catch her wearing out the Kindle app on her iPad, dancing in her kitchen, or singing in the shower.

  Contact Laura at laura_lexington@yahoo.com and connect with her on Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/lauralexingtonauthor. Please visit her website at www.lauralexington.com. She welcomes all feedback, and would love to hear what YOU want to read about.

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