“Brylan,” she said while adjusting the straps on her blue sundress. “What are you doing here?”
Trudy and Nozz stopped too.
Brylan’s face was tomato red and Stormy didn’t know if it was because of the sweltering heat or the discomfort he was feeling. Judging by her own reaction to the situation, she’d guess the latter of the two. She hadn’t exactly left his house on good terms.
He shifted his weight and shoved his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants. “I wanted to congratulate you. Both of you.” His gaze shifted to Nozz and he pulled out a hand for a hearty handshake. “I’m proud of you. The two of you have been through a lot and yet here you are.”
“Thanks, Coach,” Nozz said, beaming. He wouldn’t have been so casual if he’d had any idea what had happened between Brylan and her. Stormy hadn’t told a soul, not even Trudy.
“We were just going to head over to the steakhouse. You wanna come?” Nozz asked.
Apparently they were having steak. But there was no way in Hades she’d be able to handle sitting across the table from Brylan. As hungry as she was, and as badly as she wanted that cool drink, it wouldn’t be worth the torture. Stormy’s brain was already fabricating a list of excuses to skip the meal.
She glared at Brylan and crossed her arms over her chest while she waited for his answer. His eyes met hers, briefly. “No. You guys go on,” he said. “I have some stuff to take care of. Y’all have a good time.”
He’d received her not-so-subtle message and she was relieved.
Trudy, who had been quiet through the whole exchange, was eyeing her curiously. That meant there would be plenty of probing later. Nothing got past that lady.
“Okay, Coach. See ya around.”
Nozz took off in a jog to catch up with Trudy, who was already headed for the car. Stormy turned to leave too, but Brylan reached out and lightly touched her shoulder. “Stormy, wait.”
She turned around in a huff and rolled her eyes. She was doing her best to snub him, but this cold shoulder business was tougher than she’d thought it would be. “I gotta go, Brylan. They’re waiting and we need to get to the restaurant before it gets too packed.”
He pulled a yellow, padded envelope from his pocket and held it out to her. “I just wanted to give you this.”
A crease formed between her eyebrows. “What’s this?”
“It’s all those rent payments you’ve been sneaking into my mailbox.”
She didn’t understand why he was giving it to her. “Why are you…?”
“I told you in the beginning that I just wanted to help. You don’t owe me anything, Stormy. I’ve been holding on to the money, sort of like your own personal savings account. I thought it would come in handy when you go off to school.”
Was he doing this out of guilt, or was he just being a nice guy…again? Knowing Brylan, it was probably the latter. He was too darned considerate, a good guy with a pure heart, which is why it was so hard to reject him. “No, Brylan. I meant for you to have the money. It was the least I could do for you letting me stay in your apartment.” She handed the envelope back over to him but he put his hands up and took a step back as if the stupid thing would bite him.
“Uh uh. It’s yours. I want you to have it. Please.” The man was almost as stubborn as Stormy was.
Stormy looked down at the pavement and exhaled. “I’m not sure what to say, Brylan.” The situation couldn’t have been more awkward. “Thank you.” Her voice was tiny, almost unrecognizable to her own ears.
“It’s the least I could do after everything that’s happened. I just want the best for you. I wish you all the luck in the world.” He stepped forward for an awkward hug and gave her a peck on the cheek. Stormy avoided his eyes as she silently waged war with herself. It would have been so easy to turn her head so that her mouth met up with his.
The two of them just stood there, neither of them wanting to leave, but not knowing what to say until Nozz’s horn blared through the warm, still air. “I better go. Nozz is obnoxious when he’s hungry,” she said.
“Yes, this is true,” Brylan replied with a smile. “Well, y’all go and have a good time.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Take care, Stormy.” And then he abruptly turned and walked away.
On the way to the car, Stormy fought to swallow the large lump that had formed in her throat.
She was done shedding tears for Brylan.
****
After two and a half hours of baking in the sun, five months of having her emotions run through a blender, and almost nineteen years of bullshit, Stormy finally had her diploma in her hand.
She should have been over the moon with giddiness, but she wasn’t.
She pressed the cool glass to her cheek, willing some small bit of joy to come so she wouldn’t have to fake it.
“What’s wrong, Stormy? You’ve barely touched your steak.”
Too late. Trudy was on to her.
“Oh, nothing. The heat kind of stole my appetite,” she lied.
Trudy reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “Oh, sweetie. You don’t fool me. I’m sure your mama would have come if she could have. You just have to give her some more time.”
Well, she had it partially correct. If Mama had been there then the whole Brylan incident might have been easier to shrug off. But Stormy had taken two blows that day. Her heart wouldn’t be able to handle much more.
“She’s right, Stormy,” Nozz chimed in around a mouthful of meat. “Your mom’s just got a lot on her plate. It’ll get better.” His table manners still needed a lot of work, but his attempt to comfort her was endearing.
“I know. It just makes me a little sad. It would have been nice to have family up in the stands, you know?” Stormy picked up her tea glass and looked over at the waitress, signaling for a third refill.
Trudy pushed her plate back and started tidying up the table, picking up napkins and stacking some of the dishes. “You know,” Nozz said, “They have people that do that, Trudy.”
“I know. But it doesn’t hurt to help out a little. Those people don’t get paid enough for what they do…and it bugs me to have someone else cleaning up my messes when I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.”
“Huh,” Nozz grunted. He looked thoughtful for a minute and then he pitched in, picking up empty sugar packets and wiping stray drops of ketchup from the table. Trudy and Stormy exchanged glances and chuckled.
Nozz was so cute.
“Well, you kids ready to go? I’ve got grass that needs watering and laundry that needs washing.” Trudy stood and picked up her rhinestone and denim handbag that was slung over the back of the chair.
“Sure. Nozz and I will drop you off and then head over to my house to show Mama the video that his mom shot.”
Trudy gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m sure she’ll like that.”
****
Stormy closed the car door, laughing at Nozz who was still playing air-guitar while singing along with You Give Love a Bad Name. As it turned out, she wasn’t the only person her age that had a thing for 80’s music. Nozz had a whole collection of old CDs in his car that they’d jammed to on the way there. He also had an uncanny knack for brightening her mood when she needed it. “Come on, you big goober.” She motioned for him to follow her inside.
Stormy half expected her mama to be in the kitchen, waiting for her and eager to hear all the details of the day’s events. Instead, she was met with silence.
Nozz closed the door behind her. “Shhh. I think she’s asleep. I’ll go see…right after I go drain my bladder. All that tea caught up with me and my eyeballs are floating.”
“Uh, too much information,” he chuckled while flopping down on the couch. “I’ll just hang out here. Let me know if you need any assistance.”
Jackass. “Ha ha. Very funny. I’m pretty sure I can manage on my own, thank you very much.”
Stormy took off down the hall and made it to the bathroom just in time. When she stood up to flu
sh, she realized the toilet tank lid was no longer on the tank, but was on the floor, propped up against the side of the toilet. Occasionally the float would get stuck and cause the toilet to run constantly. Mama must have forgotten to put the lid back on.
When she was done in the bathroom she crept into Marni’s bedroom. “Mama? I’m home,” she said softly as not to startle her. She didn’t know how long her mama had been asleep, but if she napped too long it would mess up her internal clock and she’d never be able to get to bed at a decent hour. Stormy pulled back the curtains to let the remainder of the daylight in. “Mama?” She was on the bed with her back facing her. Stormy noticed that she still had on the black and red polka dot dress from earlier, the one she had planned to wear to the graduation ceremony.
Stormy grabbed her mama’s shoulder for a little shake. “Hey, Mama. You’re not sick, are you?” The lack of response caused her scalp to prickle. Then she noticed the empty vodka bottle on the nightstand. She shook her again, much harder this time, “Come on, Mama. Wake up.” Still nothing. “Mama! Come on! Mama, please wake up!” Stormy rolled her onto her back and that’s when she saw the vomit on the pillow and the wetness on Marni’s face. It wasn’t until she pushed the hair back from her face that she noticed the iciness of her skin. Her eyes were open but they were dull and lifeless, as if someone had switched off the light in them. When she felt her wrist for a pulse she didn’t find one. “No, no, no! MAMA!”
Nozz was talking frantically on his cell phone behind her, but she couldn’t hear him over the loud buzzing in her head. This can’t be happening. She grabbed Marni and sobbed into her hair, “No, Mama. Please. You can’t leave me. Not now.” She silently prayed that the warmth would return to her mother’s skin and her limp body would spring to life and drag in a long overdue breath, just like she’d seen a hundred times in the movies.
But that didn’t happen.
Marni Black would never take a breath again.
****
Nozz’s shirt was soaked through with Stormy’s tears as she sobbed quietly into his chest. He sat and rocked her on that rickety old front porch for what seemed like an eternity. He’d never felt so helpless in his life and there was nothing he wouldn’t give to take away her pain. Seeing her like that, so completely shattered and thoroughly heartbroken, was ripping a hole right through the middle of him.
The house was a blur of activity. Lights were flashing and radios were squawking. Nozz had hoped that Stormy would have kept her head buried in his shoulder when they wheeled her mother out of the house, but there was nothing he could do to stop her from looking. And there was no way to stop the second wave of agonizing, pitiful sobs that burst from her when the doors of the ambulance closed. He knew that the image was burned into her memory forever, just as it was in his. She would never forget it, no more than he would ever forget the horror on Stormy’s face when she realized her mother was never going to wake up. Or the sound of Stormy’s hysterical pleas. They were sure to leave permanent marks on his soul.
Until that day, Nozz had never encountered death. It was too real. Too painful. And so damned unfair. Stormy had believed that Marni’s battle with booze was a battle that could be won. Hell, Nozz believed it too. The two of them seemed to be doing so well.
And then Marni went and did this to her.
A slow burn built in Nozz’s gut. He knew it was unfair of him to be angry at a dead woman, but damn-it-to-hell, Stormy was a good girl and she didn’t deserve what was happening to her. He needed to blame somebody.
“I should have known,” Stormy whispered into his chest.
“No, Stormy. You couldn’t have. Nobody could have known,” he tried to reassure her. The last thing he wanted was for Stormy to blame herself. None of this shit was her fault.
“I saw the tremors. I saw how fragile she looked. I should never have left her.”
“Stormy, don’t,” he said a little too sharply. “Your mother loved you and she would have never forgiven herself if you had missed your own graduation because of her.”
She lifted her head up and wiped her nose. “She was weak. It was my job to take care of her, Nozz. And I failed. If I had been here, she wouldn’t have gotten into that bottle. She wouldn’t have…she wouldn’t have….” Her voice began to crack, “She wouldn’t have choked on her own vomit.” She collapsed back into Nozz’s chest and he rubbed circles on her back as her shoulders shook.
Nozz knew what he wanted to say, but he had to tread carefully. “Stormy,” he began softly, “if she was determined to take a drink…I doubt you could have stopped her. You heard what the paramedics said.” Nozz wished he could see Stormy’s eyes so he’d know she heard him. It was important for her to understand what he was telling her. “Who knows how long she’s been hiding that bottle? It’s probably why she appeared to be doing so well. She was fighting withdrawal, and she probably thought it was the only way to get through until she could get to rehab. In her mind she probably figured it was helping. The paramedic said she’s seen this sort of thing before.”
The sheriff deputies and paramedics had peppered the two of them with a million questions. He was surprised he could recall anything that had been said. Stormy had nodded in response to their comments, but he could tell that she hadn’t really comprehended any of it.
Eventually the spirit-shattering cries died down to sniffles, but Stormy was still trembling. Nozz pulled the thin blanket tighter around her. Her skin was cool and clammy despite the warm night air. Relief flooded through him when he spotted the headlights of Trudy’s red VW bug coming down the dirt road.
Trudy slammed the car door and ran toward them in her dirt-covered jeans and a sleeveless purple shirt. “Oh, my poor, poor girl.” She sat on the other side of Stormy and pulled her away from Nozz and into her bosom and started stroking her hair, the way a mother snuggles a small child. Stormy clung to her, twisting the hem of Trudy’s shirt in her fists while Trudy cooed softly into her hair, “Shhh, it’s okay, baby. Trudy’s here.” She looked up at Nozz with apologetic eyes. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I was working in my flowerbeds and my phone was in the house. I hopped in the car and flew over here as soon as I got your voicemail.”
“It’s okay, Trudy,” he told her, “I’m just glad you’re here now.” He meant it from the depths of his soul. He deeply cared for Stormy, and he didn’t begrudge holding her, but the helplessness he was feeling nearly did him in. He knew that Trudy would provide that motherly type of comfort that Stormy needed. She was a good woman with a heart of gold. She would know what to do. And his frazzled nerves needed a break.
Chapter Twenty One
Death was a sneaky, cruel bastard that seemed to have a penchant for taking people before their time.
And Brylan wanted to kick its greedy, merciless ass.
His soul slowly unraveled as he watched Stormy, stricken and pale, rise from her slip-covered folding chair on the front row to lay a single white rose on top of the casket. She kissed her hand and pressed it to the mahogany-colored wood and then whispered something Brylan couldn’t hear.
When her goodbyes were said, Nozz walked up and offered her his arm on one side while Trudy held her on the other, gently leading Stormy away from the graveside.
It was killing Brylan that he couldn’t be the one with his arm around her, comforting her on the worst day of her life. He’d offered his condolences back at the funeral home, but he wasn’t sure if Stormy had even registered who he was. Her face had been blank, unreadable.
“Stormy?” Her stormy, gray eyes were full of grief and sadness, but for a split second he thought he recognized a flicker of something else too…but it faded away too quickly to tell.
“Brylan,” she acknowledged him flatly.
“Stormy, I just wanted to let you know that I’m here—”
She put up a hand to cut him off, “Brylan, I can’t. I appreciate you being here but…I just…I can’t talk to you right now. You should go.” She took off in th
e direction of the cars that were slowly pulling out of the small, rural cemetery. Brylan watched her go, feeling worthless and irrelevant.
“Give her time, Brylan.” It was Trudy’s voice.
“I just wanted her to know that I’m here for her.”
“Are you, Brylan? Are you sure? Because from what I’ve gathered, you’re neither here nor there. You’re somewhere in between.”
Heat crept up his collared neck, partly due to the thick humid air, but mostly because of the shame he felt. Just how much had Stormy told her?
Weathering Stormy Page 21
