“Oh. Okay.”
It was strange to be scaling over what was left of someone’s possessions, so Guthrie was happy to find he could stop.
They made their way back to the road. Their truck was a mangled ball of metal. The tornado had knocked it onto its side and spun it, so the belly of the vehicle greeted them. The windshield was gone, as was the hood. The contents were covered in glass, mud, and water. A fence post was lodged in the driver’s seat. It’d gone clean through the door.
“There goes our ride home,” Guthrie said. His voice sounded flat. He needed out of here. What would have happened if they hadn’t run? If they’d tried to shelter in a ditch? It wasn’t an absurd scenario. If there hadn’t been houses nearby, that would have been their only option. His gorge rose again, but he managed to breathe through it. “I’m going to call the station.”
His phone had service, which meant the nearby cell towers hadn’t gone down. He was patched through immediately to Sarah. “Oh thank God, Guthrie. We’ve all been freaking out. Are y’all okay?”
“We’re fine.”
She waited. Was she waiting for him to elaborate? He couldn’t think what to say.
“Do you or Luke need any medical attention?”
“No, we’re fine,” he repeated.
“Good. That’s good. You should head back to the station.”
“Our truck is trashed. Can’t get home.” He could call his mom, perhaps? Or maybe there was a storm chaser with a different outfit nearby.
“We can send Delilah Sanchez out to get you.”
“In the chopper?” Guthrie asked.
“Yeah. She can be there soon. Is there somewhere she can land?”
“A field.”
“Okay, I’ll double-check your location to be sure. What’s the damage like around there?”
“All three houses here have damage. One older couple was in their house when it hit. The others were empty.”
“Any injuries?”
“No.”
“Can you interview the couple?”
“No.”
“Delilah will have a camera and equipment with her.”
“No.”
Guthrie wasn’t doing this anymore.
He heard muffled talking on the other end of the line. Then Seth Nguyen’s voice was in his ear, gentle and familiar. It made something shake in his chest. Guthrie was not dealing with that right now.
“Guthrie, son, are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m fine.”
Another pause. “Can I talk to Luke?”
Guthrie thrust the phone at Luke, then walked off.
In less than thirty minutes, Delilah had landed the chopper in an adjacent field. Luke was hovering near Guthrie, but Guthrie didn’t want anything to do with that. He couldn’t do his job. He had come stains on his jeans. He’d puked. He just wanted to be alone.
Luke and Delilah spoke for a few minutes, and Guthrie faced the opposite direction, staring off toward the dark sky to the northeast. Evidently, the tornado had weakened and died a few miles to the east without hitting any other major areas.
A movement behind Guthrie drew his attention. Delilah was handing Luke an ENG camera, tripod, and mic. Luke held the mic out to Guthrie. Guthrie shook his head and walked toward the chopper. Delilah followed Guthrie and helped him into the bird. Luke walked the opposite direction, toward the destroyed homes and heartache. He could do the interview on his own. He was capable. He didn’t need Guthrie.
Everything happened in flashes after that. He stirred when Luke and Delilah both got back into the chopper. Guthrie had never been in one before. He closed his eyes and waited for it to be over. Luke was flushed and wide-eyed. He’d interviewed the elderly couple, and it had evidently been colorful and perfect.
When they landed back at the station, it was to a hero’s welcome. Hugs and tears. The cut in their feed had freaked everyone out, but the intensity of their relief couldn’t quite penetrate Guthrie’s fog. Luke kept trying to sidle closer to him but got pulled away each time.
Debbie Debarr caught Guthrie’s eye and hugged him despite the stay-away vibe he was trying to project.
Once he was free, he asked to talk in her office. She whisked him off. He didn’t look back at Luke. He couldn’t.
Debbie closed her office door behind her and started to open her mouth.
Guthrie cut her off. “I quit. Effective immediately, please.”
Chapter Sixteen
Luke glanced around, searching for Guthrie. He’d disappeared soon after getting back to the station, and Luke was worried about him. Luke had been forced to do the interview with the Owenses. He was pretty sure he’d botched it.
Seth clapped him on the shoulder. The chief meteorologist was still busy. There was a tornado warning in western Oklahoma, but he’d taken a moment to search Luke out.
“Can you record a package for the ten o’clock broadcast? You’ll need to explain what happened, describe it. It’s an incredible story.”
“Can’t Guthrie do it?”
Cautiousness passed over Seth’s face. “I know you’re not keen on the camera, but you’re a natural. And you’re recognizable. People are going to want to know what happened to you.”
“I guess I can. Guthrie’s better at that stuff than me, though. His quick thinking saved our lives.”
“It’s got to be you, unfortunately.”
Luke peered around the bustling newsroom again. “Where did he go?”
“He’s talking to Debbie.”
“Oh, okay.” A horrible thought crossed his mind. “Guthrie’s not getting in trouble, is he? It’s my fault the truck was wrecked.”
“He’s not in trouble. Promise. Neither are you.”
“All right. I’ll do the package story now.” He hoped to be nearby when Guthrie reappeared.
Filming the package story took an hour. The newsroom had settled down, all the storms having died out by the time he’d finished. Theirs had produced the largest tornado.
Seth was mainlining coffee when Luke approached him. “How you holding up?” Seth asked.
“I’m sure it’ll hit me tonight, but it’s been too much of a whirlwind.”
“We’ll all understand if you need some time to process it. You don’t need to jump right back in.”
“I’ll be fine, I think.”
Seth stared at him for a long second. “If you find that you’re not, we’re here for you. I’m here for you.”
The hair on the back of Luke’s neck stood on end. “Where’s Guthrie?”
“He went home.”
“Is he okay?”
“Luke, he quit. Cleaned out his desk and everything.”
The bottom of Luke’s stomach dropped out. He should have seen it coming. Guthrie had shut down to the point that Luke had to jump on camera. But that knowledge didn’t stop the hurt that rushed through him.
He felt like that little kid again with the carpet ripped out from underneath him. Guthrie had left him, had abandoned this partnership without telling him. Luke didn’t know what to do with that. He didn’t even have a way home.
Maybe his reaction was selfish, but the small child who had never escaped Luke’s heart was selfish. And scared. And so, so hurt.
He nodded, because Seth was watching him closely. “Not surprised.”
Seth hummed. “Me either.”
“Okay. Umm. Anyway, I’m going to go home. Get some rest.” He was definitely not going home, but he needed this conversation to end. Needed a moment to lick his wounds in private. His blood was still thrumming from the tornado, from making out in the storm shelter, from being on camera, and he was going to crash fast. With his emotions in a jumble, it was bound to be a mess.
He’d assumed he would handle this aftermath with Guthrie. That they’d help each other cope with the crazy day. That they’d be there for each other. But Guthrie had left without him.
Luke called a Lyft and
directed the driver north to Guthrie’s townhome. When he arrived, he jogged up to the front door and knocked as the driver sped off.
No answer.
He pulled his phone out and dialed Guthrie. No answer, again.
After another try, he left a voicemail. “Hey, Guthrie, please call me back. I want to make sure you’re okay. No, that’s dumb. I know you’re not. But I want to be here for you. Please, please call me.”
Luke waited for about an hour outside Guthrie’s townhome, but he never showed up. Eventually, Luke got a new Lyft and went back home. Sleep didn’t come easily.
The next day, he worked at the gym because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. The outpouring of support from the weather team that morning had been overwhelming, his new family calling to check on him, offering him food and distractions and love. As much as he appreciated it, they weren’t who he wanted to talk to.
He phoned Guthrie before leaving the gym, but no answer. Storms were brewing, and normally, Luke and Guthrie would be heading out in a few hours, but Luke had the day off from storm chasing. He needed to meet the insurance adjuster about the station’s truck.
He walked out into the parking lot of the gym only to come face-to-face with Slim Bridges.
“What do you want?” Luke asked.
“To offer you a job. Word on the street is that my son abandoned you and KTTY doesn’t have another storm chaser on retainer. Bet they let you go.”
Damn, word got around fast, and it didn’t hurt any less this morning.
“They’re not going to do that.” At least Luke hoped not. He believed what Seth had said last night, but Luke’s childhood had taught him not to trust people to keep their word.
“Are you sure?” Slim grinned. Luke never wanted to be on the receiving end of Slim’s charismatic smile again.
“Either way, I would never work for you.”
“Hey, I’m not so bad.”
“Oh yeah? How’s your son?”
Slim’s smile froze on his face, his eyes suddenly guarded. “What about him?”
“Is he okay? Do you know?”
Slim didn’t respond.
“You don’t know, do you? Or care. You find out that Guthrie had a traumatic experience and your focus is snagging a new storm chaser.”
“I care.”
Luke shook his head. “Don’t contact me again.” He strode past Slim and went home.
The rest of the day was a flurry of insurance and paperwork and calling Guthrie. Who didn’t answer.
The next day was much of the same, but with less paperwork.
Luke’s voicemails were getting more and more pathetic. After three days of no contact and driving to Guthrie’s townhome again to no avail, Luke decided to give Guthrie some space.
He left one last voicemail.
Guthrie spent the first day after the tornado in bed. Not his own, but one at the ranch. He let his phone die. His phone charger had been in the truck, and he didn’t ask his mom for hers. He was scared of what he’d find on his phone. He’d quit his job. He’d left Luke at the station. He’d refused to answer his calls.
Guthrie was a pretty shitty person all around.
He spent the next day riding horses with his mom. She let him ride and stew. Didn’t hound him. But that night, she came into his childhood bedroom and handed him a phone charger.
“Your dad’s been calling you. Evidently your boyfriend gave him a talking to, and now Slim is worried about you. He called me, so I know it’s bad.”
“Slim talked to Luke?”
“Is Luke your boyfriend?” Mom sat on his bed and brushed the hair out of his eyes.
“He could be. Except I abandoned him after going through a tornado with him and haven’t answered his calls or called him back.”
“You’re a bad boyfriend.”
Guthrie laughed. “I am.”
“Why?”
“I’m trash at relationships, obviously.”
“You learned from the best, darling.”
She lay down next to him, and they both stared up at his ceiling. When he’d been a teenager, he’d painted cumulonimbus clouds up there.
“Do you want to talk to your dad?” she asked.
When he’d painted the clouds, he’d been at the height of his weather obsession, spending all his free time with Slim. “I don’t think so. Is that okay?”
“Slim hasn’t been a very responsible presence in your life. You’re allowed autonomy on whom you let in and to what degree. Maybe one day Slim will grow up and deserve a relationship with you. Maybe not. I’ll support you no matter what.”
“I love you, Mom.”
“Back at ya. Now, about this boyfriend?”
Guthrie groaned. “I’m fucking it up.”
“How so?”
“He wants to be storm chasers together.”
“If that’s the stipulation to be in a relationship with him, then he’s not the man for you.”
“He looks all strong and hides behind this humor. But he’s soft on the inside, and I left him. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to tell him that I can’t do it. That I’m not okay. That I’m unemployed and weak and fucked-up.”
“It is not weak to quit a job that doesn’t work for you. It’s not weak to be scared after a tornado. You don’t have to put up fake walls and pretend to be okay all the time, Guthrie.”
“Yeah, I hear you.”
Mom turned to face him. “I hope you do. Take your time. Call Alton Ray and ask for a job. But don’t leave this sweet boy waiting.” She kissed him on the forehead and left.
The next day he plugged his phone in.
He had a bunch of calls from the station the night of the tornado, plus several texts from Brick. There were two voicemails from Slim, neither particularly pleasant, but he was trying. Guthrie was done giving points for trying.
He was about to listen to the first of six voicemails left by Luke when his phone rang. He accidentally answered it.
“Shit. Uh, hello?”
“Wow. You answered. It’s Brad.”
“Yeah, hi, Brad. I didn’t mean to answer.”
Brad snorted a laugh. “Look, I won’t keep you long. Just wanted to let you know, I’ll miss you. And I’m texting you a video. It’s only for you. Not anyone else.”
“All right. Thank you, I think?”
“You’re welcome. Watch it now,” Brad said happily. Then he hung up.
The video came through, and Guthrie was curious enough to open it. An NSYNC love song immediately started blaring and the words “Guthrie and Luke” flashed on the screen with a big heart.
“What the hell?” Guthrie mumbled. But then he was bombarded with moments from their videos. Moments when they’d stared longingly at each other or touched. The time when Luke had said, “We’re partners.” And when Guthrie had said he was the thing Luke needed most. Each clip had a cheesy ’90s-style fade transition into the next. The shocking bits were the outtakes that had never made it into the finished products. Moments of laughter or raunchiness. Or when they’d covered for each other. By the end of the dumb video, which Brad had obviously made like a big weirdo, Guthrie was tearing up. He wanted to blame that on NSYNC, but couldn’t. He missed Luke. Their feelings for each other jumped out, from the very beginning.
He wiped his eyes and clicked to Luke’s voicemails. The tone of them moved from concern to hurt to resignation. Guthrie felt sick listening.
He reached the last one, left this morning.
“Hey Guthrie. It’s been a couple days, and you haven’t called me back. I assume that’s intentional, and that’s okay. I’ve thought a lot about us and what we went through. I’m sorry if I put pressure on you about being my partner. I’m proud of you for quitting. I want to make this really clear. I want to be with you, whether or not we work together. I am committed. I know you need some time. Take all the time you need. I’ll be waiting for you when you’re ready. I’ll be here with all the love in my heart when you�
�re ready. All you have to do is find me.”
“Ah shit,” Guthrie breathed. A laughing sob bubbled in his throat.
He rushed into his mom’s kitchen. “I have to go.”
“See ya, wouldn’t want to be ya,” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Go win back the boy.”
“That’s the plan.”
Guthrie drove into the city like a storm was on his tail. He headed straight for Luke’s apartment. Guthrie was wearing sweats and an old Minco High School T-shirt. He didn’t care that he didn’t look his best. Luke wanted him. He was waiting until Guthrie was ready.
Guthrie had never felt so ready.
By the time he made it into Moore, early evening had set in. It was one of those rare spring days in Oklahoma that wasn’t miserably humid, hot, or tornadic.
Guthrie took it as a good omen.
He knocked on Luke’s door, heart hammering in his ears.
The door flew open.
Then there he was—Luke. Staring at Guthrie and breathing hard, fire in his eyes.
“Took you long enough,” Luke shouted. “I was this close to storming Rose Rock Ranch like a fucking outlaw, Guthrie. Oh my God!”
Luke reached for him and Guthrie jumped into his arms, legs coming around Luke’s waist.
Guthrie gripped Luke by the ears and stared down at him. “I am so sorry I disappeared.”
Luke carried Guthrie inside and kicked the door shut behind them. “It’s okay. You needed it. I would have come to find you eventually. I’ll always come for you.”
“I quit.”
“Yeah, sweetheart. I know.”
“And you still want me, even though I’m not your partner anymore.” Guthrie didn’t say it like a question. He trusted Luke.
“Yes. Will you want me even if I continue to be a storm chaser?”
“As long as you don’t fall in love with your next partner.”
“Pretty sure my heart is taken. It’s full up.”
Guthrie kissed Luke slowly, hands tangled in his hair. “Mine is too. Of you. For you. Thank you for keeping me safe and sane. For being you. For being mine.”
“I am yours. I’m so yours, Guthrie Gale.”
Natural Disaster Page 16
