The Secret Storm
Page 3
As the vehicle passed, she could see her new acquaintance waving at her from the window. Great. The freak was going to follow her home. But he sped up, spitting snow from the back of his deep treaded wheels and turned at the intersection. She gave a sigh of relief. As much as the slippery snow allowed, she quickly picked her way to her back door and slid inside.
The quiche smelled heavenly as she unzipped her coat and shook the snow from her shoulders. She pulled the beanie from her head and fingered her short hair. Once the snow let up, she’d find a good stylist and get a sharp modern cut. Her transformation was almost complete.
She settled at the bar with a plateful of quiche, her cola, and her phone. Her text icon showed a new message. What? The university meeting was still on? Were they kidding? How would she get to the meeting in this storm? She gave an aggravated sigh then glanced at the time. Oh, she needed to leave, like now.
She shoveled the egg mixture into her mouth, making a mental note to file the tasty recipe. With a longing glance at the rich brownies, she hurried over to her outfit, pressed and waiting on her inflated armchair. She pulled it on, grabbed her purse and cola, and headed for the car.
The snow still fell in huge fluffs. In Georgia, no one went anywhere when it snowed. These people were crazy. She settled into the car and shut the door, a pile of snow landing on her armrest. The faithful Ion turned over, and she parked her drink into the cup holder and flung her purse to the passenger’s seat. She buckled her seatbelt over the quivering in her stomach. Driving in this stuff wasn’t on her bucket list.
She eased from the parking space and then crept down the hill. Praise God for front wheel drive. Her lips tightened into concentration and she patted the dashboard. “Come on, baby. You can do it.”
She came to a sliding halt at the stop sign, and her heart jerked in fear. Holy Moley. How would she ever make it to Fulbright, some fifteen miles to the south? She gritted her teeth, prayed, and pulled out into the intersection. A vehicle appeared from the right and she screamed, slamming on the brakes. The Ion skittered, refusing to stop, and the truck struck her front fender. Everything spun for a moment and then screeched to a halt.
Her mouth hung open, and she gasped shallow breaths. Her door flew open, and there stood Ake Pearson, a look of concern across his face.
“You okay?”
“I…think I am.” She sat frozen for a moment before unbuckling her belt. Her shaking legs swung from the car and she rose. His hands steadied her.
“Are you sure?”
She spun at him. “You didn’t stop. And now you’ve hit me. This is all your fault.”
His brows rose and his gaze flicked to the street. “I don’t have a stop sign. You do.”
“I…” She closed her mouth. Fear and anger mingled inside, and she fought to keep them leashed. “You—”
“I’ll call Max so he can fill out a report.”
Max? “No. I must get to Fulbright. I don’t have time to fill out an accident report. I’ll be late.”
He nodded. “Well, I’ll tell him you can come in and do it later.”
“No.” She stuck to her guns and continued to blither. “I have to leave, now. Now, I say. This storm will make me late already. I can’t be late. I just can’t.”
She stepped back into her car and turned the key. A horrible whining began, first quickly and then slowly before cycling back. Her fist struck the dashboard and she tried again. More of the same met her ears. It wasn’t going to turn over. She stared through the white speckled windshield at the blizzard, and her heart sank. She’d lose her job. The car door opened again.
“I don’t think it’s going to start.”
“You think?” she spat.
He stood there staring, and she pressed her forehead into the steering wheel between her wet mittens to block him out.
“How ’bout I push it to the side and take you to Fulbright?”
It took a moment to register. She turned her head and glared at him. “What?”
“Put it in neutral and I’ll push it aside.”
She gave an impatient sigh. Who did he think he was? The heavyweight champion of the world? She threw the gearshift to N and leaned back in her seat. He slammed the door closed. Then, to her astonishment, the car began to move.
“Steer to the side.” He instructed with a muffled grunt.
She checked the rear window and did what he asked. Several agonizing moments ticked by until her car rested against the curb. The door opened again.
“There ya go. Should be safe for now. Come on.”
Her mouth fell open. “I can’t just gallivant off with you.”
“Gallivant? No, I’m taking you to Fulbright. Isn’t that where you said you had to go?”
She fixed her eyes on him. Was he kidding? But his face appeared open and quite serious. Fine. If nothing else, she’d be in the evening news as a missing person. Or a murdered one. She stepped from the car.
“Fine, Ake Pearson. I accept your help. But I have family that will miss me if I don’t turn up.”
His brows drew together and he shrugged. “Okay.”
He hurried to the truck and opened the passenger door with a big smile. She whirled away and stomped over to examine the damage on the front fender. Minor, but still a pain in the hiney. She slipped and skated to Ake’s truck where he held the door.
“Thank you.” She tried to make her voice show true gratefulness, but she fell a bit short.
She snapped on the seatbelt and looked around the cab of the old Ford truck. At least it was clean, although it did smell a bit like fish.
He jumped into the driver’s seat, grinning like a boy on show-and-tell day. “Ready?”
She cut her eyes to the front glass. “Yes.”
The truck fired up with a rumble, and he threw it into gear. He fishtailed out into the center of the road, and her fingers gripped the armrest. Even if the accident was her fault, driving like this would soon put them in the ditch. He lowered his hand to the gearshift and downshifted.
“It’s starting to get slippery. Better kick in the four-wheel drive.”
The truck steadied and clung to the road. She gave a sigh of relief. He pulled out into the highway toward Fulbright. Maybe she wouldn’t become a headline.
“So what’s in Fulbright?” he questioned, turning his black eyes on hers.
“DeLong University.”
“Oh. You go to school there?”
“No. I work there.”
Silence stretched, and Stormi watched the snowy landscape pass, wondering how he could see where he was going.
“Doing what?”
“Hmmm? Oh, I teach several English courses online.”
“That’s cool.” He had one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gearshift. His hands were encased in thick leather work gloves.
She supposed she should carry her side of the conversation for courtesy’s sake. “And you fish, correct?”
“Yeah. My brother and I have two boats. Well, he’s really in charge. I just help. Hoge’s really smart about keeping everything going.”
She nodded. “I suppose that would be a big undertaking. I’m sure he appreciates your assistance.”
He grinned. “I can tell you’re really smart, too. Me, I didn’t do so good in school. Hoge would laugh to know I was driving over to the university.”
She studied him, but his attention stayed on the road. “Why would he find that funny?”
He gave a short burst of laughter. “I’ve never been to no college. Couldn’t go if I wanted to.”
Her face puckered. Was he a dimwit? “Did you graduate high school?”
“Oh, sure. But English was the hardest. I had a special class for it.”
This information puzzled Stormi. Special class?
With a quick glance, he finished his thought. “It’s why they call me Dummy.”
She took in a sharp breath. “You shouldn’t let them call you such a name. That’s just mean.”
Outrage lodged in her throat. “Are you telling me your own brother calls you this derogatory name?”
One of his eyes screwed up when he took a glance at her. “Huh? No, he calls me Dummy, not derogawhatever.”
“Derogatory. It means a name that’s making fun of you, unkind.”
“Oh. Gotcha.” He shrugged. “Well, folks been calling me that since I was a kid. Guess it stuck.”
She tried to calm the boiling anger inside by drawing in a slow breath. “You should tell them to call you by your proper name.”
“It’s okay. They don’t mean nothing by it.”
She could see the sign for Fulbright some distance ahead. But he slowed and turned on the next road.
“I don’t think you should have turned yet.” Perhaps he really shouldn’t be driving. If he couldn’t read, how did he know what the signs said?
“No. This is a shortcut. And the road’s not so curvy. Don’t worry. I’ll get you there.”
She gripped the chevron-patterned fabric of the seat, praying he was right.
Chapter Four
Sure enough, tall brick buildings loomed ahead. Hope rose in Stormi’s chest. “Where ’bouts you need to go?” He lowered his head to glance about the campus.
“Um…hold on.” She withdrew a piece of paper. “Columbia and Vine.”
“All right.” He pulled out slowly, and they eased into a parking lot about three blocks further down the road. “I believe this is it.”
She blinked at the building. Shiresheck Building/Language Arts. She gathered her purse. “I think you’re right. And right on time.”
“Glad to be of service.” He nodded with a grin.
“Oh.”
His brows rose. “Forget something?”
Her mouth hung open. “How will I get home?”
“I’ll wait right here for you.”
She stared at him. “You can’t do that. It’s freezing out here.”
He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Much colder out on a boat than here.”
Her chin rose. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
But he shook his head. “You might not ask, but I’ll be here.”
The snow seemed to be coming down even harder, masking the building’s sign. “Perhaps you could wait inside? I’d feel much better if you were indoors. I hate to say that I’m not sure how long this meeting will last.”
His glance took in the building. “If that’ll make you happy, let’s go.”
To her surprise, he jumped out and circled the truck to assist her. He may not have graduated at the top of his class, but his manners were impeccable.
“Thank you.” Sincerity rang in her tone this time.
“No problem.”
Was he joking? She’d been a huge problem. Her heart smote her as she flipped up her hood and scurried through the snow with her dress shoes. Almost instantly she skidded across ice and let out a howl. He gripped her and kept her from landing in the snow piled along the side of the walk.
“Here, let me help you.”
Biting her lip at her lack of independence today, she slid her hand into the crook of his elbow. With his help she navigated the slippery walk to the door. He pulled it open and she entered. She paused in the high-ceilinged foyer. A beautiful glass chandelier hung from the center surrounded by a dome of windows. Natural light lit every corner and the marble corridors shone. Hallways separated into three directions.
“I’m supposed to go to the fifth floor,” she murmured, checking her paper again.
“There’s the elevators.” He motioned to the right.
“Oh good.” She strode to the gleaming doors and pushed the up button. Her gaze caught on him still standing at the entry door. “What are you doing? Come on.”
“I can wait here.”
She took a deep breath. “No, I can at least find you a chair.”
He shrugged and joined her. Together they stepped into the elevator. She surveyed him as they lifted. Jeans―clean—gray canvas jacket, black beanie, thick stubble hid his chin. Not exactly business casual. Tough noogies. He’d brought her, she wouldn’t shed him. He gave a small smile. She smiled back. He may not have been blessed with intellect, but he struck her quite handsome, nonetheless.
The doors slid open and they exited. A woman sat at a high rounded desk in a small foyer.
“May I help you?”
Stormi rubbed the three nubs on the left side of her lip. Would they notice the piercing holes hadn’t completely disappeared? No time to be nervous now. She shuffled forward with what she hoped was a professional smile. “Yes. I’m here for the faculty meeting of the English department.”
The woman gave a cool smile behind the tiny microphone clipped to her ear. “That is to take place in Conference Hall J. Down this hall, make a left, second door on the right.”
“Thank you. Oh. Um, my friend has been gracious enough to drive me here in the storm. Is there a place he may sit and wait?”
She nodded, her eyes doing the once over and returning to hers a little guarded. Then she addressed Ake. “I’ll show you the break room. There’s coffee and refreshments there.”
Stormi gave a nervous smile and waved to Ake who grinned. He disappeared behind the corner, and she felt a bit of a loss. As difficult as it had been to actually get here, his presence had taken her mind from the impending meeting. She nibbled her lip, her stomach dancing in nervousness. Following the woman’s directions, Stormi wandered down the hallway and found Conference Hall J.
The room yawned large with rich woodwork. Large paintings of founders lined the walls. Narrow dark wood tables and black chairs stood in rows. The men clad mostly in black suits, and women dressed in dark A-line skirts with jackets, spoke in small huddles in muted syllables. Her eyes went to the modern navy bellbottom pantsuit that had seemed just the right choice at the time.
The stiffness of the people’s postures tempted her to run down the hallway to hunt down Ake in the refreshment room. Several sleek expensive briefcases rested beside chairs, and top of the line laptops occupied the strips of narrow tables.
She shuffled forward, feeling quite out of place with her simple tablet. Trying not to call attention to herself, she chose a chair near the outside of the row facing the front platform. She fiddled with her purse to ease the awkward feeling. She glanced longingly toward the door.
This wasn’t her. She knew her English, yes, literature, yes. But this pompous meeting of windbags, no. Her fingers probed each piercing nub one by one, and then fluffed her sagging hair. She was categorizing again. Yet if they only knew…
A panel of somber dressed men and women filed up onto the platform. A rush of thankfulness quivered through her. Just get it over with and be on her way. People sat around her, maybe fifty in all. She opened her plain paper app and darted glances around her co-workers. Shrugging off her coat, black tattoo swirls peeked out at the edge of her slinky sleeve. She slumped down and tugged the silky material down.
***
Ake inserted the coins and chose the button with the almond icon with cappa-something. Cappuccino maybe? With almonds? Or almond milk? He’d never had that before. And this machine? Man, it was the fanciest he’d ever seen. Seven kinds of cappuccino, ten kinds of coffee, five kinds of, what he could only figure as, hot chocolate.
The paper cup dropped down and filled with hot brown liquid ending with a head of foam. He grabbed a spoon and a couple of sugars. He’d heard of cappuccino but had never sampled it himself. Nothing like trying something new on a stormy, cold day.
A grin shot across his face. Stormi. He liked her. Sure, he hated that her car was wrecked, but he’d enjoyed the conversation over. She was one of the few women that would even talk to him.
He sat at a small round table in the empty
room, added sugar, and stirred. The woman didn’t wear sensible footwear though. Lucky for her, he was here to keep her from ending up in the snow. Shame to mess up that navy pantsuit she’d been wearing, though he wondered how she kept warm in that gauzy get-up. He tipped the chair back and brought the cup to his lips. The chair came down with a crash.
What in thunder was this stuff? Did people actually drink it? He shuddered, stood up and flung the whole cup into the trash. Nasty brew. No more for him. He bellied back up to the offending machine. Plain coffee, black. It didn’t always pay to try something new.
He selected the middle button. That should be medium, right? Ake taste-tested it before he returned to his seat. Fine. Drinkable. He added sugar and stirred, his eyes going to the windows on the far wall. Snow fell in heavy sheets. Since his old black truck could take a couple more feet, it didn’t worry him. And he had chains in the tool box.
His gaze followed the gray walls of the breakroom. A few empty tables surrounded him. Paper lists crowded a small corkboard near the door. A colorful banner hung on the far wall, stamped with cat feet and an illustration of a growling cougar. So this was college.
Hoge had attended Boston University for a couple of years. Studied business. If it were nothing but numbers, he could probably handle it. But the reading, well, no way. The old shame washed over him. Why had he blurted out to Stormi he couldn’t read? It was usually something he kept quite guarded. Not something he wanted advertised. Sometimes it set people talking real slow and loud in his face like he couldn’t understand a common sentence.
He shrugged. Nothing he could do to change it. Hadn’t hampered him much anyway, for the most part. He did his job, enjoyed the little things in life, and loved his family. God had always assured him those were the most important things.
His eyes blinked. After the late night last night, he could do with a little snooze. He leaned back and folded his hands across his chest. He’d just as well make up a little sleep.
Something shook him, and he inhaled a deep breath before opening his eyes. It was hot in here. He looked up and found Stormi looking at him, humor evident in the twist of her lips.