The first time Stormy saw homelessness was when Mama took a wrong turn during one of their moves. They’d ended up in the downtown area of some city…she couldn’t recall which. She was just a kid at the time, but she would never forget the brown lumpy forms huddled around trash cans and lying on the sidewalk. There was one boy, around sixteen or so, that would haunt her memories forever. He was skinny and dirty, and there was a desperation in his face like she’d never seen before. He’d tapped on the window of their car while they were at a stop light and nearly scared her to death.
“Do you think you could spare some change for—”
“No! Get on out of here!” Mama had shooed him away like a stray dog. And the look in his eyes…. Stormy had been mad at Mama for the whole rest of the trip. How could she have been so cruel?
The flush of the toilet brought her back into the present. Hopefully that was the last of the vomiting. She helped her mama up from the floor, slipped her arm around her neck for support, and dragged her to the bedroom, just as she’d done a hundred times before. Once she’d slipped her jeans off of her, she tucked her in and began bathing her face with a damp cloth.
“Stormy…. My sweet, pretty little Stormy,” Marni sing-songed. “Pretty, pretty Stormy.”
Ewe. Stormy hated the sappy Mama. It didn’t fit her normally brusque personality. And there was something especially creepy about her tone this time that made the hair stand up on Stormy’s neck.
“I used to be pretty too,” Marni rasped.
“I know, Mama.” It was a true statement. She’d seen pictures of her mother when she was younger. Blonde and curvy. Big blue eyes. She was a knockout…before the booze and the drugs and the hard living.
“My daddy used to think I was pretty too. I was the apple of his eye.”
Stormy paused. It was such an odd thing to say. Her mother rarely talked about either of Stormy’s grandparents, especially her grandfather, and when she did, she didn’t paint a very pretty picture. Stormy had always just assumed that her mama hated the guy. She dismissed it and continued wiping her mama’s face and hair.
“Daddy’s friends…they all thought I was pretty too.”
Please just go to sleep, Mama. There was something about her manner and the way that she was looking at her that made her want to bolt from the room.
“There was this one friend of Daddy’s…His name was Ted. He really, really liked me. Said I was the prettiest thing he ever saw. Said I was special….”
The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. Stormy shivered. Her arms were covered in gooseflesh and a knot formed in her stomach. She didn’t like where the conversation was headed. All of her instincts were screaming at her to leave but she ignored them. She couldn’t miss a chance to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Figure out what it was that fueled the torment that resided inside of her mother.
But nothing could prepare her for what was about to come. “It didn’t matter that I was sixteen. Didn’t matter that he had a wife….” She hesitated briefly and a tear trailed down her face. “And it didn’t matter… that I said no.”
The air was trapped in Stormy’s lungs and her eyes were stinging with tears. Her brain didn’t want to acknowledge what she’d heard. It was too ugly. Too atrocious. How was she supposed to respond to that?
She reached out to wipe away the tear on Marni’s face, but recoiled when Marni’s gaze sharply snapped up to meet hers.
“You have his eyes.”
Shaking, Stormy stood up and backed away from the bed, feeling as though she’d been drenched in icy cold water. Her heart seized in her chest and she couldn’t move. No, no, no, no. This isn’t happening. She could feel her mama’s eyes burning through her. It was a hatred-filled glare that set off alarm bells inside her skull. She wanted to look away. She wanted to run…but she was frozen. She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. She just sat there with her mouth gaping open, even though the little voice in the back of her mind was screaming at her: RUN!
Marni propped herself up on one elbow, still fixing Stormy with that evil stare. Stormy took three tentative steps backward until her back brushed up against the wall.
“Day in, day out…I have to look at you…be reminded of what he did to me. What he took from me…. It’s just too much for one person to take. I can’t even look at you without seeing him,” Marni seethed through fresh tears. “Just get out. I can’t stand it anymore. Get out of here!”
Stormy was hit by a second wave of shock. Her mind was swimming and the thoughts just wouldn’t stay still long enough to make sense out of what was happening.
“Didn’t you hear me? I said GET OUT!”
Her shrill scream jolted her senses awake. She ran to her bedroom, grabbed her purse, and bolted out of the house, leaving the front door wide open.
With a shaky hand, she fumbled the key into the ignition and slammed the shifter into reverse. She tore out of the driveway in a cloud of dust, not having a clue where she was going. And she didn’t care.
Chapter Nine
Brylan handed Nozz a much deserved bottle of soda and wiped the sweat from his neck with his bandana. “Place is lookin’ good.”
He and Nozz had been working steadily on the garage apartment and the kid had turned out to be quite the carpenter. Not to mention good company. The two of them had spent almost as much time laughing as they had working.
They’d patched drywall, laid new flooring, and had given the place a new coat of paint. The fixtures in the bathroom and the small kitchenette were in pretty good shape, which was a blessing, because plumbing was not Brylan’s area of expertise. All that was lacking was a little trim here and there, and the place would be good to go.
Nozz swallowed a big gulp of his Mountain Dew. “Yeah, you ought to be able to put some tenants in here pretty soon.”
“That’s the plan.” Brylan stretched some of the soreness out of his back and then started gathering up tools and putting them in the toolbox.
“Hey, did you hear that?” Nozz asked.
Brylan paused and listened. “Sounds like someone pounding on my front door. It’s probably Pam.”
“Oh, yeah? I didn’t know she was coming over today.”
“Neither did I,” he groaned.
He met Pamela a couple of weeks ago at a faculty luncheon. Principal Flint introduced her as his niece and asked if Brylan would mind showing her around since she was new in town. It was an odd request, especially since he was fairly new to Yaupon himself. He had a sneaking suspicion that the old guy—or his wife, rather—was making an attempt at playing matchmaker.
His friend Cooper was less than thrilled about the idea. He had already made his feelings clear about her that day in the teacher’s lounge, and he never missed an opportunity to rattle Brylan’s cage with comments like, “You get that stick out of her ass yet?” But, despite Coop’s opinion on the matter, Brylan thought she was a nice girl and didn’t see the harm in showing her around town and taking her for coffee. If nothing else, it might score him a few points with his boss. And if he was really being honest with himself, he needed the distraction.
Brylan and Nozz headed out to the landing, expecting to see Pam’s shiny new Prius, but instead, there was a familiar looking Ford truck sitting in his driveway.
It was her.
Brylan’s heart thumped wildly as he took the stairs two at a time. His mind was reeling as he crossed the yard toward the girl he’d been working his ass off to forget. He hadn’t heard a peep from her since the night she’d snuck out of his house. Why in the hell was she sitting on his curb?
As he got closer he could see that her head was in her hands and her shoulders were shaking. She looked up when she heard the grass crunch under his boots. On her face was a mixture of anguish and relief. Her eyes were rimmed with red and brimming with tears.
“Stormy?”
“Hey,” she sniffed. “I thought you weren’t here. I knocked on the door but no one answered….”
She started to cry agai
n and it wrecked his insides. He’d seen her take a nasty fall that would have brought grown men to tears, and yet she hadn’t shed a single one. She was tough as nails, so whatever was going on with her had to be bad. Really bad.
Brylan reached down to gently pull her up from the curb and pulled her into his chest. “Shhh…It’s going to be alright,” he cooed with his nose buried in her hair. “Whatever it is…we’ll fix it.” The scent of lavender and vanilla was intoxicating and he was having a hard time ignoring the fact that her chest was pressed against his. The only thing separating them was a few layers of fabric. He mentally scolded himself for noticing.
“No,” Stormy sniveled through the tears, “Nobody can fix it. It will never be alright....” Her words were cut off by the sobs that engulfed her once more. Brylan felt helpless. He wanted to take away whatever was causing her so much pain, but he was completely bewildered as to what to do. So he just let her cry…for as long as she needed to.
Eventually, the blubbering dwindled down to an intermittent sniff.
“Stormy? Tell me what happened, sweetheart,” he said softly.
She stepped back and wiped her eyes with the collar of her shirt. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know where else to go. I tried my boss’ house first, but I forgot that she’s out of town at her cousin’s bridal shower. I don’t know anybody else in town.”
“It’s not a problem. I’m just glad we heard you knocking over all the noise we were making.”
She scrunched her face up in confusion. “We?”
Nozz stepped out of the shadows. Brylan had forgotten he was there. “Hey, Stormy.”
Brylan could see the embarrassment on her face and saw the way her body stiffened when she saw him. “Hey. What are you doing here, Nozz?”
“I’ve been helping Coach out. We’re fixing up his garage apartment.” He nodded toward the garage.
“Oh.”
An awkward silence fell over the three of them. Stormy stared at the ground while Nozz kicked at a chipped piece of concrete on the curb. Brylan ran a hand through his hair while he thought of something to tamp down the weird vibe between them. He was hoping Nozz would head home so that he could get to the bottom of Stormy’s problem, but he hated to ask the guy to leave after he’d worked his ass off all day. He looked at his watch. It was seven-thirty. Nozz usually didn’t stick around past eight anyway, so he invited the both of them inside.
On the walk up to the house Brylan heard Stormy’s stomach growl. “When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”
She shrugged. “I dunno. Breakfast, I think.”
“Well…how ‘bout I stir up something for all of us to—?”
“NO!” They said in unison.
What the hell?
Stormy cracked a tiny smile and shot a knowing look at Nozz, who had no qualms about sharing his opinion, “Dude. I’ve had your food before, remember?”
The comment stung, but Brylan couldn’t argue with him. He had never been much of a cook…but at least he tried. “Fine, hurt my feelings why don’t ya,” he teased. Their silly banter earned a giggle from Stormy, making the air feel lighter all of a sudden. Brylan would endure a thousand of Nozz’s insults just to hear that sound.
“I’ll order some pizzas then. I wouldn’t want to cause insult to your refined palate or anything,” he told Nozz sarcastically.
****
Stormy was relieved when Nozz finished off his fourth slice of pizza and headed home. He was a sweet guy, but it was sheer willpower that held her together, and she didn’t want to break down in front of him. For the last half hour she’d been forcing back a massive wall of emotions that threatened to spill over at any moment. The effort was draining.
Now that Nozz was gone she was on to the next hurdle—trying to explain to Brylan why he’d found a basket case in his driveway.
Brylan was putting on a pot of coffee while she paced the living room floor, anticipating all the questions that she knew he had. She didn’t want to come here. Her feelings about Brylan were so mixed up...and she really didn’t know where things stood between them. But after driving around town aimlessly for over an hour, she simply didn’t know where else to turn. She’d considered sleeping in her truck, but then she remembered the news about Bill and wondered how many more creeps were out there just like him. No place felt safe.
If only Trudy had been home….
Brylan entered the living room with two coffees, handing one to Stormy and then taking a seat on the recliner. She expected him to start peppering her with questions—which he had every right to do considering the way she’d shown up out of the blue—but instead, he sat quietly and sipped his coffee.
Stormy stared into her cup. She owed him an explanation but she didn’t know how to approach it. Should she try to sugar coat it and spare him the ghastly details? Or would brutal honesty be the way to go?
She glanced up at Brylan and he gave her an easy smile. His eyes were full of tenderness. She saw the same compassion that he’d shown her twice before. Once, right after she sprained her ankle, and again on that cold, lonely day in the park.
Brylan was a good man. She owed him the truth. It was time to rip off the Band-Aid.
“I’m sorry for showing up like I did. I’m sure the last thing you wanted to do this evening was deal with a blubbering pile of mush in your driveway.”
“Stormy, you don’t have to be sorry. It’s what friends do. I’m glad I can be here for you.”
So he considered her a friend. The bittersweet endearment caused a tiny bubble of disappointment to rise up. She pushed the feeling back down and reminded herself that friendship was the best that she could hope for under the circumstances.
“I’m glad too.” She gave a small smile. “I drove around and around trying to figure out what to do…and somehow I ended up here. I just…my mama threw me out of the house. I had no place else to go.” She hesitated, taking a sip of coffee to offset the anxiety that threatened to resurface. “My mother is an alcoholic.”
Stormy let the words linger in the air. It was the first time she’d ever spoken them out loud. It was strange, almost as if someone else had said them. She stole a glance at Brylan, expecting a change in his expression, but he was stone still. There was no judgment in his eyes, only genuine interest in what she had to say, which gave her the courage to continue.
“Today, when I got home, she was more messed up than I’ve ever see her…stumbling around and slurring her words. Her eyes were all wrong, and there was something about her voice…it just wasn’t right. I knew something was off from the moment I walked in the house. I knew it was going to be bad when I saw the empty whiskey bottle, but I just never dreamed—”
The flood gates opened once again, and Brylan was on the couch beside her in a blink, putting his arm around her and pulling her into the warmth of his body. But he still didn’t say a word.
Stormy willed herself to suck it up and finish her story. She was tired of crying, and it was starting to piss her off. She wiped her face with her hands and exhaled a shaky breath. The next part was going to be tough as hell.
“Tonight I found out that my mother was….” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word. “A man forced himself on her when she was only sixteen.” She focused on her knuckles that had turned white from wringing her hands. “Brylan, she got pregnant. I’m the offspring of a monster. I’m an abomination.” She heard a faint gasp come from Brylan as he pulled her closer, and buried his face in her hair. Her own words echoed inside her head until she couldn’t hold back the next wave of sobs that hit.
Brylan held her and stroked her hair until the violent shaking subsided. “Stormy. Look at me.” He leaned away from her just enough to lightly grab her chin and tilt her face to meet his. His eyes were shining with unshed tears.
“Stormy, you are anything but an abomination. I don’t give a damn how you came to be or who your father was. You are here because you’re supposed to be. And I can’t even imagine what your mom had
to go through.” A muscle twitched in Brylan’s jaw. Anger. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if he was forcing the emotion back down. “Listen, sometimes bad things happen. We may not be able to comprehend all of the how’s and why’s…. All I know for sure is that the world is a better place because you’re in it. Do you understand?”
His gaze was so intense that she felt paralyzed, but she still managed a small nod. Brylan wrapped her up in a tight hug and gently rocked her back and forth. “It’s all going to work out. Your mom will come around.”
Stormy’s face was pressed into his chest and her words were muffled, “I don’t know, Brylan. You didn’t see the way she looked at me. She hates me. She blames me for ruining her life.”
Her scalp warmed as Brylan sighed into her hair. “I’m sure it’s not you she hates, Stormy. Her anger is just…misdirected. Maybe she just needs some time.”
Weathering Stormy Page 9
