by Becky Melby
It wasn’t something she needed to think about. April rested her fingertips on Denisha’s bangle bracelet. “You have my word on that.”
❧
Wesley stood at eye level to the kitchen counter. “Can we watch tornado movies and eat in Man Room?”
April looked from Wesley to Denisha. “Man Room?”
“You’ll see. If we’re very, very good they’ll take down the No Girls Allowed sign.” Denisha handed a pizza pan to Darren and one to Seth and picked up a bowl of potato chips. “May we enter the inner sanctum?”
As if they’d practiced their routine, the men bowed simultaneously, ushering the way into the den with the hands that held the pizzas.
“You’re right, it’s eerie.” April picked up paper plates and napkins and nodded to Denisha. “I’ll follow you.”
The hush in the dimly lit room was the first thing she noticed. As her eyes adjusted to the low light, she understood. Sound-absorbing plush black carpeting covered the floor, three walls, and the ceiling. Massive speakers and a flat-screen TV took up the fourth wall. Six recliners formed a curved row in front of a glass-topped coffee table that appeared to be at least five feet long.
Seth set the pizza on the table and opened a small black refrigerator. “Everybody help yourself to soda or water.” He walked over to April. His fingers rested on hers before he took the plates from her. “Welcome to Man Room.”
“It’s an honor to be allowed in.”
“Sit there.” He pointed to the second recliner from the left end. “I’ll hold your hand during the scary parts.”
“The scary parts are the coolest!” Wesley grabbed Seth’s forearm and hung like a little monkey. Turning to April, he said, “I chaseded a tornado today.”
“You did?”
Seth raised his eyebrow and shook his head, and April bent down to Wesley’s eye level. “What did it look like?”
“It was huuuuge and black, and it chomped houses like a T. rex, and I went right up next to it, and I wasn’t scared even a bit.”
“Well, maybe you can teach me to not be scared of tornadoes.”
“Nah. I don’t think so. ’Cause you’re a girl like Mom and girls are s’posed to be scared of T. rexes and tornadoes. But when you watch my dad’s movies, you just gotta keep saying ‘It’s only a movie. It’s only a movie.’ ’Cause even though it used to be real, it’s not like it’s outside right now. ’Kay?”
❧
“It’s only a movie. It’s only a movie.” Seth whispered so close to her ear that his lips felt the cool smoothness of her silver and turquoise earrings. She’d been like a coiled spring for the past half hour.
Her eyes were riveted to the jostling footage that had been filmed through the windshield of Darren’s van. A gray funnel swirled out of a black cloud and split into twin sisters. On the ground, lights flashed as the tornadoes flattened power lines and transformers. Darren’s voice on the video shouted over the locomotive roar in the background. “I’m guessing wind speeds upwards of two hundred. An F3 for sure, maybe a 4. This storm is violent. Look at the action on either side. It’s gonna do some damage if it doesn’t change course. There’s a subdivision just east of here. Let’s hope the local weather guys got it right this time and gave them plenty of warning.”
Seth tossed a crumpled napkin over April and Denisha, hitting Darren square on the head.
“Nothing personal, man.” Darren’s laugh said otherwise.
The scene changed to a different storm. This time, the sky was gunmetal gray, the supercell storm cloud white against the darkness. A shaft of lightning shot out of the cloud. Seth leaned forward, his pulse double-timing. This was footage he’d never seen. “Should be a funnel forming any minute,” he said under his breath. Seconds later, a white snake dropped out of the cloud, sucking up trees like a vacuum hose. A barn, directly in its path, suddenly exploded. April jumped. Boards shot up into the cloud.
“Big tornado on the ground! I’m setting up the tripod!” Darren’s voice yelled above the noise.
“Multivortex!” a second voice shouted. “You gettin’ this on tape, Darren?”
“I got it. How many? I see three satellites.”
“Four. One’s pulling away. It’s heading straight for us. Get in the car! Get in the car!”
The picture bounced. . .voices clamored. . .a shot of the inside of the car door. . .doors slammed. The car did a U-turn, and the camera panned to the rear window. “We can’t outrun it! Let’s try for the overpass!” A white funnel bore down on the speeding car. . .and the image froze on the screen.
Darren held a remote control in each hand. With his left hand, he slowly turned up the rheostat for the overhead LED track lights. “Thought April might need a break.”
Wesley clapped.
April collapsed against the back of her seat. “You can’t stop it there! What happened?”
“We made it to the overpass, which isn’t really the smartest thing to do. I managed to loop one of the straps on my backpack over a piece of rebar. The guy who was driving wasn’t so lucky. He got sucked out and got hit with a chunk of debris. Had to have a dozen stitches.”
“Awesome.” Seth didn’t even realize what he’d said until he caught April’s eyes drilling into him. “I mean. . .sure glad he wasn’t hurt worse.”
Denisha patted April’s hand. “You’ll get used to it.”
The look on April’s face clearly said she wasn’t sure she wanted to get used to it.
Darren threw the wadded napkin back at Seth. “She won’t need to get used to it unless Weather Guy leaves the station in somebody else’s hands and starts doing what he really wants to do.”
Seth felt his jaw tighten involuntarily. “Drop it.”
“I haven’t brought it up for months.” Darren leaned around the women and pointed a remote at him. “I could still line up back-to-back tours all the way through July.” He shifted his position to include April in his pleading gaze. “What we’d do is set up week-long tours for people. We’d take a caravan of three or four vehicles up and down Tornado Alley, from North Dakota to the Rio Grande. And this is an awesome year for storms, perfect for launching our business.” His voice lowered as his hand came to rest on Denisha’s belly. “But I can’t be gone that long this season. I need a partner.”
“I’m sure you can find one.” Seth’s body language was as tense as his voice.
“I want you. Get yourself a decent manager so the station can get along without you for a week at a time. You’d be reachable 24-7. And your puny little town doesn’t need a live weather forecast. Give them daily feed from the National Weather Service. They’ll get over missing your handsome face.”
“Not interested.”
“Liar.”
“Give it up, Darren. You’re boring the ladies.”
Darren locked brown eyes on April. “I’ve heard your radio show. That dream list your sister made. . .you’re all about living life to the fullest, right? Don’t you think that if people can afford it they should spend their lives doing what they love to do? Can’t you talk some sense into this guy?”
“What does—”
“I can’t afford it.” Tension knotted Seth’s gut. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have again, especially not in front of April.
“You could if you’d quit pay—”
“I said, drop it!”
❧
Sandals and empty cake pan in one hand, a list of storm-watcher gear in the other, April padded up the stairs, avoiding the two steps that creaked the loudest. Laughter and music drifted down to meet her. Good. Yvonne had company. She wouldn’t have to worry about being chatty tonight. What she needed was a hot bath and a good book. Definitely not a romance.
A third sound joined in as she reached the top step. A vacuum cleaner. Strange thing to be doing when you have visitors.
But the sounds weren’t coming from Yvonne’s apartment. They were coming from hers. Cautiously, she opened the door.
“Ah
h!” Midge jumped, eyes popping like a Pekinese, and shut off the vacuum cleaner. “I didn’t think you’d be home so early.”
Yvonne, standing on the couch, waved at her with a feather duster, sending dust bits raining onto Snow Bear. “How was dinner?”
“What are you two doing?”
“Cleaning.” They answered in unison.
“I see that. Why?” It wasn’t like she kept the place a mess.
Midge plopped down in the rocker. “I’m keeping my promise. You went out with Seth, so I’m cleaning your apartment.”
“And I’m trying to make up for not telling you the truth about him taking you to Riverdance.” Yvonne hopped down. “Even though it all worked out for the best.”
Maybe.
“So. . .do you like Seth’s friends?” Midge asked at the same time Yvonne said, “Do you want to chase a tornado?”
I want to take a bath. She dropped her shoes at the door and took the cake pan into the kitchen. Leaning heavily on the counter that divided the two rooms, she gave a halfhearted smile. “You didn’t have to do this, but thank you. The place hasn’t been this clean in forever.”
Midge whisked away her thanks. “You’re welcome, but you’re not answering the questions.”
“Dinner was good, the people are nice, and I kind of get the storm-chasing adventure thing.”
“But. . . ?” Yvonne sat down next to Snow Bear.
“But what?”
“Something didn’t go right. I can tell.”
Unfastening her necklace, April walked around the counter and sank into the other end of the couch. “I think I finally figured it out. I just don’t get men.” She picked a fleck of lint off Snow Bear’s ear. “Think about it. . .how could I? No brothers, no grandfathers or uncles, a father who was more out of my life than in it. Guys are. . .they’re not like us.”
Her audience of two erupted in laughter. Midge, who’d been—at least outwardly—happily married for twenty-five years, was the first to regain her composure. “No truer words were ever spoken.”
April tucked her feet beneath her. “Tonight—we’re in the middle of watching storm footage—when Seth and his friend Darren get into this argument. Not a quiet one. I was ready to hightail it out of there when I looked over at Darren’s wife. She’s just sitting there munching on chips. Like she’s watching a basketball game. But she knows these guys, so I stayed and watched; pretty soon their voices lowered, and in a couple minutes, they’re talking about a sci-fi movie that’s coming out next week. No ‘I’m sorry.’ It was like they both said what they had to say, and then it was over.”
“Men are a lot like tornadoes.”
“Midge! Did you just say something critical?”
Midge’s shoulders rose to her ears. “God made tornadoes, too.”
Yvonne nodded. “I’ve seen Kirk do that with his brothers a million times.”
“It just scares me, knowing he’s capable of yelling like that. When’s he going to turn it on me?”
The rocking chair groaned as Midge bent forward, resting her hand on April’s knee. “Probably never. I know I’ve said it before, but don’t make the mistake of putting your father’s sins on every man you meet.”
“I know. But why can’t they just be more like us? Quieter and—”
“Cattier?”
“Midge! What’s gotten into you?”
“Just speaking the truth. I think I’d rather take my chances with a man who lays it all out on the table than some of the women I’ve met who quietly stab you in the back.”
“Me, too.” Yvonne stood then stuck her hands in the pocket of her cardigan. “Oh, here—somebody called for you about an hour ago. She said it didn’t matter how late you called her back.”
April looked down at the scrap of paper. And a chill skittered down her back.
555-784-0938
Brenda Cadwell
Fifteen
Water thundered over the stair-step rocks. The spray above Middle Gooseberry Falls split sunlight into a halo of color. Sitting next to Seth on a hardened lava flow below the falls, April skimmed her bare heels along the surface of the icy water then pulled her feet back to the sun-warmed rock.
“You’re doing that like a girl.” With both feet submerged, Seth talked through gritted teeth. “Just stick ’em in all at once.” He gestured toward Yvonne’s fiancé, Kirk, sitting beside him, feet also under water.
“And look as miserable as you two do just to prove I’m tough? No thanks.”
Yvonne shook her platinum curls. “You guys have more pride in your little toes than we have in our whole bodies.”
With a painful gasp, Kirk yanked his feet out of the water. A split second later, Seth copied his move. Both men writhed, accompanied by female laughter. Kirk reached out for Yvonne’s hand. “I concede. You’re a better man than I am, Seth. Come on, woman, help me walk some circulation into my legs.”
As Seth lay back on his elbows, a look of triumph mixed with pain on his face, April rested her bare feet on his.
“Ah. . .heat. Thank you.” He lifted his sunglasses. In the bright light, his eyes took on a bronze tinge.
The warmth soaking through the back of her North Face polo was now met by the heat sparked by those bronze eyes. Suddenly her feet on his seemed way too intimate. She shifted and copied his posture, resting back on her elbows. Nearer than she’d calculated. Not touching but close enough to smell that musky, earthy aftershave.
A herring gull scudded to a stop several yards away, lifted its head, and called into the air. Seth’s little toe touched hers. “Perfect day,” he whispered.
“Mm-hm.”
It seemed the ideal setting to tell him the news that had been percolating in her head since Friday night. The news that had stolen her sleep and filled half a notebook with heady, adrenaline-driven ideas.
“You won’t believe who called me the other night.”
Seth rolled his fleece jacket into a ball and used it for a pillow, stretching out on the flat rock. “Who?” His voice sounded sleepy.
“Brenda.”
Bolting to a sitting position, he whipped off his sunglasses. “Brenda. . .who?”
Your Brenda. No, he wouldn’t find that amusing. “Brenda Cadwell.”
“She called you? Why?” Suspicion dripped from his words.
April grinned. “To offer me a job.”
❧
How could five little words turn a perfect day into a nightmare? He’d been lying there, more relaxed than he’d felt in months, stringing words together in his head—words that would describe his growing feelings for the woman with the honey blond hair who was so close to him he could smell the spicy, touch-of-vanilla scent of her.
And then she’d smacked him with a name that he was within weeks of never having to hear again.
She was effervescing before his eyes. Glowing like Sirius on a clear night. Her warm, lush radio voice painted the vision as detailed as an oil painting. A prime-time spot on a cable station three hours from Pine Bluff. She couldn’t tell him what station, what town. The details were all being worked out. Her own talk show. Huh. . .where had Brenda gotten that idea? A Christian show on a secular station. What were the chances? April asked.
Behind his back, Seth’s fist clenched on the green-tinged rock. Slim to none. Whatever Brenda Cadwell had up her sleeve, it wasn’t good.
“It’ll be an hour-long show, five days a week, to start with.” April’s fingers knit her hands into a ball. “And I get to pick the guests. Pretty much carte blanche, it sounds like.”
“Hm. Where’d she get the idea for the format?”
Confusion wrinkled her forehead. He wanted to kiss it away, wanted to kiss away the last five minutes.
“She got the idea from you.”
She certainly did. “She told you that?”
“Yes. She said you told her that I’d always dreamed of being a television talk show host. To be honest, it made me mad at first. I shared that with you in confidence.
”
Seth opened his mouth to defend himself, but she held up her hand.
“But then I realized that you’d told her about it because she’s got the right connections. She’s somebody who could make my dream come true.”
Her eyes held his for a long moment. “I know the distance is an issue, but I’d be back here every weekend.”
“When would you start?” His voice was as flat as his mood.
“In two weeks.”
“Kind of soon.”
“Well, it wouldn’t air for another six weeks or so. I’d start out just lining up guests and working on promotion.”
“And they’d pay you for that part?”
Her hands separated. She rubbed her palms on her knees. “I. . .assume so.”
“What’s your starting salary?”
“She couldn’t say yet, just promised I’d have no complaints.”
Promised. Brenda’s promise. . .now there was an oxymoron if he’d ever heard one. “When is your interview scheduled?”
She recoiled, just a fraction of an inch. “That was. . .my interview. . .on the phone.”
“Oh. Don’t you need to talk to a manager?”
“Brenda is. . .in charge of hiring.”
“She is, huh?”
❧
Yvonne walked over and pointed at her watch. “Time to move on.”
April nodded. Keeping the group on schedule was supposed to be her job. She picked up a sock, grateful for a reprieve from Seth’s cross-examination. What was wrong with the man? Of course, she wanted him to express some sadness, but he seemed far more angry than sad. He knew how much this meant to her, didn’t he? His barrage of questions was insulting. Didn’t he know her well enough to know that she’d check it out carefully before accepting? The KOEK Web site said they were actively working to expand their programming and give the station a fresh, new image. She was going to be part of that new image.
