Chill Alan.
While she glared at the phone, it lit up. Great, now he was calling. But when her eyes caught the number, she realized it was Marla. She groaned. Avoid a smart car and slam into a semi. “Hello?”
“Hey, B. It’s me.”
“Uh, I have caller ID.”
A few obscenities shot through the receiver and then stopped abruptly. “Sorry. Old habit. I’m sixty out from you.”
Stormi sat up, eyes bugged. “You’re what?”
Marla swore again and then spoke excessively slow. “I’m one hour from your freaky little town.”
Stormi curled her lips in and closed her eyes. What to say to that?
“You still there, Hurricane?”
“Mmm-uh”
“I’m thinking of hanging out with your sweetness. What do you think?”
Sweat dripped from her hand and ran down her wrist. “I’m not sure what you have planned, Marla.”
“Don’t worry about putting me up. I’ve got me a big papa nearby. Remember Stu?”
Stormi racked her brain to extract one face amongst a sea of faceless souls. “Not…really.”
“You know, rich Stu. We called him Stu Boo. Rich guy? You know, from Miami Beach when we went three years ago. He drove a chrome Maserati?”
Her mind snagged on a snatch of memory. “Stu Boo from the slough? Oh, for Pete’s sake, Marla. That guy’s like a porn star.”
“He’s a big time producer, too. Oh, and I don’t want to hear any pious judgement from little Miss Goody-goody.” The Lord’s name followed by a four-letter word shot from her friend’s mouth.
“Marla, please—”
“All right, all right. Sheesh. You take the fun out of everything, you know that? All I’m saying is, I’ll be in town. We could meet and hang out. Stu could hook you up.”
A shiver of revulsion rocked through her. “No. Actually, I’m getting married.”
Bleep. Bleep, bleepity-bleep. Stormi’s mental censure blocked the words exploding from the phone.
“Married? Are you mad? One guy the rest of your life?”
Stormi snatched up the water bottle and downed several gulps. This night was just turning out peachy. Joni, check. Hoge, check. Alan, check. Cursing Marla, check check. Part of her wanted to flee through the door, drive to Ake’s, and beg him to let her in. “Yeah. I’m getting married.”
“Imprisoned, more like. Shackled, death by boredom. What are you thinking?”
“It’s the right thing to do.”
“That’s a creepy thing to say. Who is this guy?”
“Ake Pearson.”
“Aptly named. Aching. For the rest of your life.”
Stormi’s hand gripped the phone, wishing it were Marla’s dinosaur neck. “He’s a great guy.”
“Whatever. Is he rich?”
“No.”
“Famous?”
“No.”
Marla disgorged a few more explicative phrases. “Then have him and throw him aside. Then move on to more exciting things. Like hanging at the beach bar Stu owns. Just opened. Live bands, three stories of flashing lights and moshed with people and noise. It’ll be popping.”
Alan’s last text came through. And she pulled the phone down to glance at it at the top of her phone.
Abort this plan.
Just the thing, Alan. Time to abort any rendezvous with Marla. “Look, Marla. I know you don’t approve. But I’m getting married. Tomorrow. Bright and early.”
“And I’m not even in the wedding? What the—”
“It’s just a simple ceremony. At the courthouse.”
The sound Marla made sounded like uncourteous gas escaping. “Are you flipping kidding me?”
“No. Tomorrow at nine.”
Silence stretched for a heartbeat or two before Marla spoke. “I really thought I could talk you around. I’ll have to take more drastic measures.”
The phone went dead. A shiver of apprehension coiled around Stormi’s spine. Spurning Marla was a dangerous thing.
***
Stormi clung to Ake’s elbow. She glanced down at the revealing dress. Plunging neckline and skin tight, the sparkling gold creation barely covered her hind quarters. She knew she’d chosen wrong when Ake’s eyes had flared in surprise and guarded appreciation this morning. The old bar-hopping dress had been her only choice this morning other than pants, and that hadn’t seemed appropriate for her wedding. Yet from the sheer elevation of the judge’s waxed brows and deeply-clefted disapproving frown that tugged her lipstickless mouth, perhaps yoga pants would have been the better choice.
The droll older woman decked in the judicial robes made a show of studying the papers through a pair of unfolded readers propped in one hand. “I see the paperwork is in order.”
She looked up with her eyes only, creating a disapproving double chin as she studied them. “And both of you enter into this union with full understanding of the permanence and validity.” She cleared her throat. “We’re not in Vegas.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ake answered before she could counter the rise of indignation that rose from her fluttering mid-section.
“Very well.” She flipped the earpieces open and perched the glasses on the end of her nose, where she could still peer at them over the tops. After a minute of full staring, she shuffled the documents in front of her. “Let’s begin.”
Behind them the door burst open. Stormi spun on her four inch heels, and her heart dropped to her black, stylish boots. Hoge and Joni stood just inside the glass doors huffing and puffing as if they’d run a half-marathon.
“What’s the meaning of this?” the judge demanded.
Hoge held up his hands. “Stop. This isn’t supposed to happen.”
Stormi closed her eyes. She and Ake just couldn’t get a break.
“How’d you find out, Hoge?” Ake’s wounded tones tugged at her heart.
He motioned to the back of the room where Avery Guttleman scurried out of sight. Hiss. Of course.
“Uh, Madam Judge. Permission to approach.” Joni muttered while her hands wrung.
“Oh, Jiminey Christmas, Joni. That’s Judge Evelyn Dalton, a church member.” He strode to the podium. “Listen here, Evelyn.”
The judge pounded her gavel. “No.”
Her stern voice froze all in the room.
“You will listen here, Mr. Hoge Pearson. You are in my court of law, and I have the authority to throw you out of said court or jail you if it’s my desire.”
Hoge straightened, his Adam’s apple jumping.
“Do you wish to speak with your brother? Or will you continue to command me about?”
“Just a word with my brother will be fine, ma’am. Your Honor.”
The elder woman leaned back in her chair, her face stiff with vested power. “Very well. We will reconvene in ten minutes.”
She whirled in her chair and rose. Stormi glanced about the room as four or five people waited in the extra wooden chairs for their turns in front of the judge. Hoge shot her a withering glance before pulling Ake to the side out of earshot. Joni didn’t approach from near the door and avoided eye-contact.
Hoge’s furious whispers rose in the room, but still were unintelligible. Oh my. What a mess. She shifted slightly to get out of eyeshot of one of the admiring toothless men and ran a wet tongue over her parched lips. Her eyes searched the corbels and fancy woodwork trailing around the tall ceiling.
Her eyes returned to the huge judge’s platform in front of her. From the corner of her eye she saw Ake pull away at one point, only to be yanked back by Hoge. Wow. Ten minutes. Who knew eternity could pass in such a short time? Ake stepped away from his brother and approached her. She searched his deep eyes but only innocence lay there.
“What happened? What did he say?”
“Nothing. We’re fine.”
The bailiff opened the door on the right. In stepped the judge.
“All rise.”
The few seated people stood. Hoge c
ame forward past them to pause at the judge’s bench.
“I protest this marriage.”
The stern woman mounted the glasses on the bulb of her nose and trained her laser eyes on Hoge. “Object. I believe you mean, object. Protestors are relegated to the sidewalk.”
Ake’s brother cleared his throat. “Yes, object.”
“Hmmm. Let’s see.” She peered at the documents before her. “Are you his legal guardian?”
“No.”
“Is he below the age of eighteen?”
Hoge stretched his neck. “Uh…”
The woman glared at him. “Is he or is he not?”
“No.”
“Then, sir, you have no legal recourse. Aiken Ellings Pearson is of age and of sound mind. Therefore, he has the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. With or without his brother’s permission. You may be seated as one of the witnesses.” She fluttered her hand toward the chairs.
Hoge hesitated only a moment before striding back towards Joni. After a quick pow-wow, they both sat in the front row, sour expressions firmly in place.
“Now, let us begin.” She hammered the gavel once more.
Behind them the doors burst open once more.
“Cut me out of your life, will ya? Oh, no. That’s not the way it works.” Marla paraded up the aisle toward them. Behind her trailed Zora, an acquaintance of Stormi’s. Now, evidently Marla’s new BFF.
Oh, sweet heaven. What next?
Chapter Twenty-Three
The gavel pounded again. “Madam, you are interrupting the proceedings of this court.”
Marla flung her arm. “That’s right, I am. Brought a little present, too.”
She yanked a rolled-up poster from her purse and pressed it against the judge’s bench in full view of the witnesses. A wave of dizziness clutched Stormi’s chest. Oh, lands. There she was, in all her pre-Christian glory. On the table at Art’s bar, in nothing but her underwear, tats screaming out, piercings riddling her face, her hair in a rainbow Mohawk.
She held a bottle of vodka and had her tongue out, displaying the stud buried there. Her cleavage rose to its full potential in the red lacy bra as she leaned over to mouth some raunchy country song. Or at least that’s what she’d been told after the fact. The picture had circulated the campus before ending up tacked on her sorority door.
Her fingers clamped into Ake’s borrowed suit. She could barely stand. And there was Hoge and Joni gawking at the photo. Jumbles of words and pounding gavels filled the air around her. If only she could focus and return to the room.
“Remove that from my bench. Now.” The judge’s command ripped through the courtroom.
Ake lifted his hand and tore the horrible image down. He rolled it up and inserted it on the inside of his suit jacket.
Stormi hung her head. She couldn’t bear to look at any of them. When she tried to pull away, Ake only tugged her into his arms.
“Young lady, you are in contempt of this court. You will remove yourself immediately or the bailiff will arrest you and escort you from the room.”
But Marla had already spun on her heel and clicked toward the door. “I was just leaving. Come on, Zora. Our work here is done.”
Stormi’s head pulsed. This couldn’t be happening. How could Marla be so vindictive?
“Your honor, you can now plainly see this marriage is a mistake.” Hoge’s voice carried a note of desperation and disgust.
“Sit down, Sir.”
All became quiet for a moment while Ake’s hand massaged her upper back.
The judge’s cultured voice filled the room once more. “Aiken Ellings Pearson. What’s your request of the court?”
“I want to be married.”
Stormi pulled away and searched his face. “Ake I—”
“Very well, let’s begin.”
Somehow, amidst the circus atmosphere, Aiken Ellings Pearson consented to be her husband in sickness and health, richer or poorer, better or worse. And this was certainly worse. She was starting this matrimonial thing off with a bang. No kiss sealed the agreement, only signatures on an official document, hers a little wobblier than usual. All the while bathed in the hatred of his brother and sister-in-law. To death do us part. That might be a very short time.
Somehow she managed to follow a somber Ake to the truck, Hoge sputtering behind, Joni trailing, coma-like. The sun lay on the snow, making the day seem bright. Too bright after such dark events. Ake strode to the truck and opened her door. She hopped in, yanking the dress down to hide her derriere. His brother snagged him as he passed the front of the truck on his way to the driver’s side. Hoge’s arms flailed. Angry whispers containing floozy, idiot, and wrong, outlined pretty clearly the direction of the discussion. As if there remained some doubt.
Ake broke away, came to the driver’s side door, and yanked it open. He settled in and revved the engine. Stormi did her best to keep her eyes from the two scowling people, waist high just above the hood of the truck. They were soon on their way down the road, but not much of the tension eased. He still had the picture from Hades in his suit pocket.
He steered the truck through town and up the hill towards her house. She cast her eyes at the beautiful bay dotted with boats. Her gaze trailed out to the white caps and wondered briefly if Ake would fish today. Before she could follow that trail of thought, they were in her driveway. She let out an unsteady breath. This is where it ended. Where she thought she’d have a new start.
“I understand, Ake. It’s too much. I’ll be seeing you.”
She went to pull the handle of the truck door and then felt a tug on her coat. With reluctance she turned to him. His face seemed a little paler than normal, which was unusual given his dark complexion. Too late, she realized he’d shaved.
“No. We came here to get your stuff.”
“You can’t be serious? After that fiasco?”
His face grew still. “We’re married, Stormi.”
“You just did that to save face.”
The truck grew quiet when he closed his eyes. When he opened them, there appeared gentleness wrapped in steel. “I love you, Stormi. That’s why I married you.”
His hand came up to stroke her face. How did he do that? Just banish all the turmoil and replace it with calm in a matter of moments?
“That picture—”
“Means nothing.”
“Ohhh.” The word tumbled from her in a long stream.
She lost herself in his world of divine wisdom and gentleness while strength returned to her limp muscles.
“We’ll get your stuff. Then drive till it’s warm.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
A small grin split his face. “Really.”
They collected her clothes and personal items in relative silence, but the strain between them had disappeared. She’d boxed several items the night before and tossed her clothes into suitcases. Really, she owned very little. Lastly, she changed into more comfortable clothes then packaged her new laptop and schedules before shutting off the light and locking the door.
Ake loaded everything but her computer in the back. Then her perfect gentleman opened her door and made sure she was settled. Once at his house they unloaded her possessions. Then she quickly rearranged her suitcase for a trip. She didn’t ask many questions, afraid the fragile marriage stupor would thaw, and he’d realize what a tramp he’d married.
Soon they were back in the truck with his and her clothes nestled together in the same bags. She slipped on her sunglasses and pretended to know where they were going. At least she knew they were leaving Hoge and Joni behind, and the specter of Marla’s appearance had disappeared like a bad dream. She scooted over near him.
Ake shoved in an oldie CD of Simon and Garfunkel, and although she only recognized a few of the songs, the melancholy tones of their music seemed appropriate. Once he shifted the truck into gear, he slid his big hand into hers. Hours rolled by. As they made their way south, the snow cover disappeared, and th
e sun grew brighter. Finally she could hold it in no longer.
“Where are we going?”
He gave a laugh, not unpleasant, but short. “I don’t know.”
She turned slightly in her seat and pulled the polarized shades down her face to look at him. “You don’t know?”
“Nope.”
For some reason that struck her funny, and she began to giggle. It got him chuckling as well, and soon they were both laughing hysterically. All the stress, guilt, and unhappiness seeped from her body. For several minutes she could hardly contain herself.
Stormi calmed and wiped her eyes free of gleeful moisture, but couldn’t quite quiet the small bursts of giggles that continued to spout out from time to time. She shot him a grin, and he returned a heart-stopping smile.
“You’re the best person I know, Ake Pearson.”
He shrugged. “Guess you don’t know a lot of folks.”
She slugged his arm playfully. “Not funny. Hey, maybe we could drive to Florida. If we go far enough, we could actually hang out at the pool. Or the beach.”
“Huh. I’ve never been to Florida.”
She squealed and slipped her hands together. “Maybe we could drive all the way to the Keys. Wow, that’d be great.”
He reached over and grabbed her hand. “How ’bout we drive till it’s dark, and then get out?”
She snickered. Who would have thought she’d have laughed on a day like this? “You know? That sounds perfect.”
While the world went by her window, she nestled back in her seat, her hand fully engulfed in Ake’s huge one. So life wasn’t perfect. But when had it ever been?
Enjoy the ride. Enjoy the ride right now.
***
Ake yanked the suitcases from the truck bed and pulled them to the glass door of the hotel. He tried to push away that old feeling of inadequacy. Why hadn’t he realized he couldn’t get a hotel room without a credit card? At least he’d been responsible for fetching the luggage. Anything requiring strength, he could cover. He rotated his head to rid himself of the endless driving kinks.
He supposed he should feel ashamed that Stormi had to reserve the room, but he figured that was the way it was in marriage. Each one filled in the other’s missing abilities. Little did Stormi realize, she was in for a lot of filling.
The Secret Storm Page 19