Weathering Stormy

by Auburn J. Kelly

  When he opened the door Pam was waiting for him in the kitchen, sitting at the island with her hands around a glass of milk. “Hey,” he grunted, “I figured you would have left by now.”

  “You said we could talk when you got back. Remember?”

  Oh yeah. He had said that, didn’t he? Dammit.

  “Pam, I’ve had a really shitty day, one of epic proportions. Whatever it is…can’t it wait? I just want to take a shower and go to bed.” He pulled his shirt over his head on his way to the bathroom.

  “No, Brylan. It can’t wait…. I’m pregnant.”

  Right then Brylan’s world stopped spinning and the bottom dropped out of his stomach…and all he could hear was the whooshing sound in his ears. “What did you say?” He was praying he hadn’t heard her right. Maybe his psyche was just messing with him and he really didn’t hear what he thought he heard. Maybe….

  “I’m pregnant, Brylan.”

  He stared at her in disbelief. “What? I don’t understand. We slept together once.”

  “Well, apparently once was enough, Brylan.”

  The sound of his own name was grating on his nerves and he wished she would quit using it. He backed against the wall and scrubbed his face with his hands. His day had gone from bad to—“Wait a minute. I thought you said you were on the pill?”

  “I was. But I was taking antibiotics for that ear infection I had. Remember? And the doctor said that taking antibiotics can make birth control ineffective. I didn’t know that at the time.”

  “Well that’s just great, Pam! I’m one big freaking cliché, aren’t I?”

  “What? What are you talking about? I thought you’d be happy.”

  “Happy? Pam, we’ve only been hanging out for a few weeks. How can I be happy right now? This is so…messed up!”

  She stilled, standing right there in the hallway with the two of them facing off against each other, hands clenched into fists, eyes blazing…and then she broke down into sobs. And all Brylan could see was Becky. Becky with the same dark hair, same blue eyes, and crying for the very same reason.

  She was scared.

  Was the universe secretly plotting against him?

  No. He did this. There was no one else to blame. He’d managed to self-destruct again. Only, this time he would have a say. He would take responsibility for his actions.

  He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and slowly made his way down the hall and pulled Pam to his chest, resting his chin on her head. He held her and told her that everything was going to be okay.

  He just hoped that he was right this time.

  Chapter Eighteen

  It was strange to be standing in the kitchen of that old run down trailer again. It felt like a lifetime since she’d been there, but fifty lifetimes still would not have been long enough. Not long ago Stormy thought—no, had hoped—that she would never, ever set foot in that place again. And now here she stood, completely bewildered by yet another curveball that life decided to throw her way.

  With Mama tucked away in bed, the run-down house was quiet, leaving her alone with nothing but her thoughts. And at the moment, her thoughts didn’t make good companions.

  Stormy leaned against the counter and stared at the piles of dirty dishes that were screaming to be washed. The brown, drippy stains leading from the coffee pot to the floor were begging to be scrubbed, and the grimy counters hadn’t been cleaned in who knew how long.

  Stormy turned on the faucet and squirted dish liquid into the sink. As much as it irritate her to have to clean up her mother’s mess, she needed something to occupy her mind, something other than the long list of disappointments in her life.

  Four hours later, Stormy had cleaned the bathroom, done two loads of laundry, and cleaned the kitchen until it sparkled. It was a major feat considering the shape it was in when she got there. After emptying an entire can of Lysol she could barely smell the stench of stale cigarettes and curdled milk anymore.

  Satisfied by her achievements and thoroughly exhausted, Stormy stretched out on the couch and closed her eyes. The moment that she did, the doctor’s words drifted back into her mind. She can’t keep going like this, Stormy. She dodged a bullet this time, but if she keeps drinking….

  He didn’t have to finish his sentence. The meaning was pretty clear.

  Her mother was slowly killing herself.

  A fit of coughing coming from the back of the trailer yanked her out of her thoughts, so Stormy dragged herself off the couch to go check on her. Marni was in the hallway pulling her faded blue bath robe tighter around her tiny frame. She stiffened when she noticed Stormy walking toward her.

  “You okay, Mama?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine. I was going to go find something to eat.” She pushed a rogue strand of hair out of her face with a shaky hand and a flicker of fear flitted through Stormy. The doctor had told them that the worst of the withdrawal symptoms were over, but she couldn’t help the bubble of fear that rose to the surface. What if Mama didn’t take her medicine? What if the medicine didn’t work? How would she handle the violent tremors and the vomiting all by herself? There were no nurses to run in and help. Stormy was on her own now.

  She pushed the worry away and forced a smile. At least Mama had an appetite. That had to be a good sign. “I think I saw a cup of jell-o in the pantry.”

  Mama looked up at her with clear blue eyes and a small smile. “Ha. Ha. Very funny. If I never see jell-o again it’ll be too soon.”

  Stormy chuckled. “I was just kidding. I was just about to make something for supper. What sounds good?”

  The smile on Marni’s face disappeared and her eyes dimmed. “I…. I haven’t been grocery shopping in a while….”

  “That’s okay, Mama. I’m sure I can find something to whip up. Do you want to lie down on the couch while I make us something?”

  “No, no, no. I’ve been lying down for way too long. I want to sit in the kitchen for a spell. Do we have any coffee?”

  Such a normal request. It was a small thing, but hope began to bloom in Stormy’s chest. “I’ll put on a pot.”

  ****

  Stormy flipped pancakes on the griddle while her mama sat quietly and sipped her coffee. It wasn’t a conventional supper, but the pantry was practically bare aside from a few staples and a box of pancake mix.

  Wind whistled through the cracks in the window frame. “The sky sure is getting dark. Looks like a storm is brewing.” Stormy grabbed a pot from under the cabinet and set it on the floor in the corner to catch the water that was sure to start seeping through the leaky roof. When the pancakes were nice and golden she heaped three of them onto a plate and set it in front of her mother.

  “This looks good, baby. You always were a pretty decent cook. More than I ever was.”

  The endearment caught Stormy slightly off guard. Mama hadn’t called her “baby” in years. And she couldn’t remember the last time her mama had paid her a compliment. “Thanks,” she said around a mouthful of pancake. “You look a lot better, Mama. You have some color in your cheeks.”

  Marni’s fork paused and she looked up at her daughter. “Well, I certainly feel better.”

  “Good.” Stormy picked up her glass of milk while she mulled over the fact that she and her mother were sitting down at the kitchen table having a meal together. It bordered on surreal.

  And, as nice as it was to be there together, it was also unsettling. There was a conversation to be had. Neither of them had uttered a single word of that awful night, the one that revealed Stormy’s paternity, and the unsaid words hung in the air like a bad odor.

  Marni cleared her throat as she slid her plate back. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Stormy. I’ve been going out of my mind trying to figure out what to say…how to explain….”

  Oh, please. Not now. “It’s alright, Mama. You don’t have to. Really. We just need to concentrate on getting you better. That’s what matters.” Stormy pushed her plate away. Her appetite had just disappear
ed.

  Marni reached out and put her hand on Stormy’s wrist. “I have to get this out, Stormy. Please listen to me. I need you to understand. I want you to know why I act the way I do.”

  Stormy picked up their plates and put them in the sink, wishing she was someplace other than where she was. She didn’t want to rehash that night. Maybe some things were better left unsaid.

  “Stormy…please. Come sit down and let me talk. Did you know that I saw a shrink when I was in the hospital?”

  That got Stormy’s attention. “No. I didn’t know that.”

  “Yeah, well, it was when I was…ya know, acting all crazy and I didn’t know where I was.”

  How could she ever forget? Her mama had begun hallucinating in the hospital, swatting at imaginary insects and yelling about how they had flown in to take her away. Stormy nodded an acknowledgment and shuffled her way back to her abandoned chair.

  “Well, anyway,” Marni began, “The shrink lady came back after I was…more calm and making sense. We talked about my problem. She said there’s a program for people like me, people who don’t have much money, but it could take a while to get in. Apparently there’s a waiting list.”

  Stormy let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “How long is the list?”

  “The lady said it could be weeks. Maybe months before I could get in.”

  A substance abuse program. Stormy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was an answered prayer.

  The question was…would her mother go through with it?

  “So are you on the list? Are you going?”

  Marni set her coffee cup on the table and looked her daughter straight in the eye. “Yes and yes. But here’s the thing…”

  Uh oh. Something twisted in Stormy’s gut. Her hope was taking a nose dive.

  “Stormy, you have that look in your eye. It’s that look you get every time I do something to disappoint you. But hear me out.”

  Stormy pushed her hair behind her ear and looked at Marni.

  “I said I’m going. I know I have to get clean, and that place is going to help me do it. But I don’t need a bunch of counselors and psychiatrists helping me figure out why I drink. I already know why.”

  Stormy shrank down in her chair. She knew why too. “It’s because of what happened to you…when I was conceived, isn’t it?

  Marni’s eyes glazed over as she turned her coffee cup around and around. She was staring at the cup, but not really seeing it. Stormy was pretty sure she didn’t want to know where her mother’s thoughts had gone. She was certain it was someplace ugly. “Mama. I understand. You don’t have to—”

  Marni cut her off. “I’ve never hated you, Stormy Rae. Never. Not for one second. No matter what I ever said or how I acted. Please tell me you know that.” Her words were emphatic and her eyes were pleading and shining with un-shed tears.

  The lump in Stormy’s throat wouldn’t let her answer so she simply nodded.

  “Good.” Marni’s relief was obvious as she released a slow, shuddered breath. “I won’t go into the details about…you know…your birth father. I’ve been kicking myself every day for divulging that to you.”

  Stormy cringed at the mention of the monster that had caused her mother so much pain.

  “You only know part of the story. When I found out I was pregnant I tried to hide it for as long as I could. I didn’t know what to do and I was scared to death of how my parents would react.”

  Stormy’s features twisted in confusion. “What do you mean? It wasn’t your fault,” she said incredulously. “You didn’t have a choice in the matter. Why didn’t you just tell them what happened?” She couldn’t understand how her mother was being so calm while she was absolutely livid.

  “You see, when I was little I was the apple of Daddy’s eye. I was a daddy’s girl through and through. He bought me pretty dresses and took me to the park. I had him wrapped around my little finger.” The corners of her mouth turned up into a tiny smile for about a half a second, and then her face fell again. “Something changed around the time I hit puberty. I started filling out, like most girls do, and daddy started paying me less and less attention. Acted like it was a crime to grow up. And it pissed him off something fierce whenever he saw a boy so much as glance in my direction.”

  “Wow, Mama. That had to have been hard. None of that was your fault though. Why was he like that?”

  “I don’t know. I think it had something to do with his reputation or something. Reputation was everything to Daddy…and I think he was somehow embarrassed of me.”

  Stormy just shook her head in disbelief.

  “Anyhow,” Mama continued, “When he and my mama finally figured out that I wasn’t just getting fat, I had no choice but to tell them the truth.”

  “And then what happened?” Stormy’s eyes were wide with curiosity.

  “Daddy said I must have brought it on myself. He said I must have done something to lead Ted on.”

  “Oh my God, Mama! That’s….” Words failed her. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her grandfather was a cruel son-of-a-bitch. How could he say that about his own daughter? “So then he threw you out of the house?”

  “Yep. But not before taking his frustrations out on me with a belt and telling me how much I disgraced him.”

  “What about your mom? She didn’t try to help you?”

  A tear spilled down Marni’s cheek. “She dug out five hundred dollars that she had stashed in her wardrobe and put it in my hand right before I walked out the door. She never was the type to stand up to anybody. Especially to Daddy.” She laid her head down on her forearm and her shoulders shook as she started to sob. Stormy scooted her chair around, next to her mama’s, and put an arm around her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. But there was no amount of comforting that could take away that kind of pain.

  “Stormy…I don’t hate you…I hate myself…for what I became.”

  “Shhh. It’s okay, Mama. It’s going to be better now,” she tried to soothe her, wiping away moisture that had now accumulated on her own cheeks. Nothing would ever truly justify the way her mother had treated her in the past, but now she understood her mother’s pain. She understood the need to escape into the booze and the drugs. She didn’t condone it, and she certainly didn’t appreciate having taken the brunt of all her mother’s misdirected anger, but she felt better knowing that there was a rationale behind the behavior, however warped it may have been.

  Stormy’s grandfather had put her mama through hell.

  Stormy had been through hell because of her mother.

  As strange and twisted as it was, the knowledge was somewhat comforting.

  They shared a common thread.

  Chapter Nineteen

  When Marni had calmed down and gone to bed, Stormy figured it would be a good time to make a much needed trip to the grocery store. So, with her shopping list in hand, she headed for the solace of her old truck. A trip out was what she needed to clear her head.

  The drive into town was liberating. Granted, it was only a trip to Brookshire Brothers for a few groceries, but it sure beat the confines of a hospital room and waiting on Mama hand and foot for over a week.

  The air was still thick with moisture as Stormy made her way across the wet parking lot, making her wish she’d brought an umbrella just in case. Once inside, she grabbed a shopping cart and perused the aisles, grabbing what she needed—coffee, sugar, bread…. She rolled past the baking goods; nothing on that aisle was on her list, however, she had to stop when the brownie mixes began calling her name. The evening’s previous events called for a chocolate. Lots of it. But what should she get? There were so many choices. Brownie cookie dough, double fudge chunk, and oooh…cream cheese brownies. Yes. She chunked the box in the cart, finished up with the items on her list and then made her way to the checkout counter.

  As usual, there were only two cashiers among the many, many registers, so Stormy grabbed a magazine off the rack and thumbed through
the gossip pages while she waited in line. She couldn’t help but overhear the two older blue-haired ladies in front of her as they bantered about what kind of cake would fetch the best price at the church’s bake sale—carrot cake or angel food. Personally, if it didn’t involve chocolate, Stormy wasn’t interested. She grabbed a plastic divider and started placing her items on the conveyor belt when she heard the ladies’ conversation take an unexpected turn.

  “Wilma, did you hear about that kid, Bozz or Fuzz or whatever his name is?”

  “Oh, yes! I heard that he nearly killed his daddy last night.”