Weather the Storm: Episode 7 (Rising Storm)

by Lisa Mondello

  “When did you talk to Tara?”

  “Earlier today when she was waiting for Marisol.”

  “Danny needs direction. That’s all. These days any child who isn’t up to speed academically is labeled with something. I don’t want someone labeling my son. Is that so hard to understand?”

  Kristin sat down on the sofa and rested her elbows on her knees. Her blue eyes pierced him in a way that no one could. Bryce and Kristin had a history together.

  “What I find hard to understand is that you’re not taking the advice of professionals who have observed Danny.”

  “Is that what Tara told you?”

  “Yes. Tell me this. If the principal of the elementary school was Jane Smith and not Alice Johnson, would you be having as difficult a time accepting her recommendation about Danny’s schooling?”

  “What are you saying? That I’m being difficult just because my mother-in-law is the principal?” Even as the words left his mouth, he couldn’t deny it. Was this really just a case of being irritated that Alice Johnson, Danny’s grandmother, was interfering in something that should be between him and Tara? Or was it the fact that he wasn’t doing what he knew he should be doing? That he was angry at Alice for taking Danny’s problems so much more in stride?

  “It’s possible,” Kristin said, spreading her hands open to drive her point.

  Bryce stared at the papers on his desk as if they weren’t even there. Sunday’s sermon. Some bills that needed to be paid. A letter from Celeste Salt thanking him for the lovely sermon at Jacob’s funeral.

  “They’ll tease him,” Bryce said quietly. “He won’t be able to handle that. And they’ll tease Carol, too. You know how cruel kids can be.”

  “Yeah, I do,” she said. “I remember it all too well. But unlike you and I, Danny and Carol will have loving parents who will give them strength enough to handle it. We never had that.”

  She looked up at the ceiling as if she were saying a prayer to make all the memories go away. But Bryce knew his sister too well. Praying wasn’t something she’d felt strongly about since their mother had been institutionalized.

  “Let me put it to you this way,” she said. “What harm could come in trying these new…what do you call them?”

  “Strategies.”

  “These new strategies at home? What could it hurt? What could it really hurt to have Danny start school a little early?”

  They were silent for a moment. Memories of his childhood assaulted Bryce like a movie on fast forward. He was unable to stop them.

  “Do you remember the night we snuck out of the house when Mom was fighting with her…boyfriend of the week?” Bryce said, looking down at his hands as if to remind himself that these were the hands of a man and not a little boy who was once traumatized by a boogey monster.

  “I was really young. That wasn’t long after Dad left.” Kristin sighed. “I barely remember Dad as it is but I remember thinking we could find him and make that bad man go away.”

  Bryce drew in a slow breath that expanded his chest against the black shirt he wore. “I remember Dad. He wasn’t a savior by any stretch, Kristin. He wasn’t a monster. He just couldn’t cope.” He picked up a pen and twirled it in his fingers. For so long he’d prayed that his father would take them away. It was only after Bryce had grown to be a man that he realized leaving their mother was the only way for him to survive. Bryce had come to terms with his mother’s illness and her passive-aggressive mothering while she struggled with mental health issues that crippled all of them. She did what she could. She’d loved them, but couldn’t even take care of herself, let alone two growing children.

  It had taken a long time, but Bryce had come to terms with the disaster that was his and Kristin’s childhoods. They were survivors. They’d made it through. He’d clung to his faith in God and she’d clung to him getting her out. And they’d done well for themselves by coming to Storm and starting over.

  One thing Bryce held close to his heart was his determination that his family would be different. He’d insisted Kristin come to Storm when he was appointed pastor of the Lutheran church here. He’d wanted her to live at the parsonage with him and Tara. But Kristin wanted her independence and contended he and Tara needed their privacy, especially since all of Storm would call on him as pastor at all hours of the day and night when there was a need. Now that their mother had been committed to the institution, and would probably live her natural life there, he was all Kristin had left. At least Bryce had Tara and their children.

  “Kristin, I don’t like gossip,” he said, changing the subject.

  She made a face and said, “Then don’t do it.”

  She was the only person in Storm who looked at him this way. She saw past the collar and the robes during church services and just saw her brother. They had a history that no one else in Storm shared with them.

  “I can’t ignore it. Travis Salt is a married man.”

  “Weren’t we just talking about Danny?”

  “Is it true, Kristin?”

  He knew by the look she gave him that it was.

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not Mom.”

  “He just lost his son. Or did you forget that?”

  Kristin stood up quickly. “Please, Bryce. Don’t use your holier than thou stand with me. I’m not one of the members of your congregation. I’m your sister.”

  “Exactly. And by carrying on with a married man, you’re acting a lot like our mother.”

  Kristin looked at him as if he’d just slapped her.

  “Bryce, our mother was schizophrenic. It took years for anyone to figure that out. I’m surprised we survived growing up with her at all given that she never went into treatment until we were adults. I’m angry with you. You know I hate it when you get on your high horse about my life. But I love you and I’m worried, too.”

  “There’s no need to worry about me.”

  Kristin laughed but when he looked at her, he saw the tears in her eyes. “We all want love, Bryce. Every single one of us. Unfortunately, it’s harder to come by for some of us than it is for others. Don’t let this stumbling block you have over Danny’s diagnosis cause trouble with you and Tara.”

  “We’re fine.” But he knew it was a lie. Danny’s diagnosis had resurrected all his demons. His mother had never gotten better. Ever. And even though intellectually he knew it was different, that his son’s condition and his mother’s weren’t the same, emotionally he was right back in that room, hiding in the closet, wanting to fix things for his mother but knowing that he could not.

  “Yeah? Then why is it that she’s never here when I come by lately?”

  Bryce glanced up at his sister. “Tara isn’t at the house?”

  “No. Like I said, she took the kids to the ranch and then had lunch with Marisol.”

  She bent down and kissed Bryce on the cheek. “I have to get back to the shop. I have a meeting with Marylee about some decorations for the gazebo for Founders’ Day. You know how meticulous Marylee can be.”

  He touched her arm. “I’m glad you stopped by.”

  Kristin turned as she reached the open door and looked down at her brother sitting so forlorn in his chair.

  “Danny’s not like Mom,” she said.

  Bryce was quiet. He’d prayed for days after Danny’s diagnosis that it wasn’t true. That the doctor would find some other explanation for his behavior. It was all happening too fast. Danny was getting older, soon to be starting school, where he would be compared with other children and coming up short somehow. He didn’t want people to label him a freak like they’d labeled Bryce’s mother. And he knew at that moment that Kristin was right. His fears for his son went far deeper than learning new strategies to guide him at school and implementing those strategies at home.

  “Danny’s not Mom,” Bryce whispered. “Danny is Danny.”

  Kristin smiled. “I was wondering when you were going
to figure that out.”

  She turned and walked down the hall. Bryce listened to her high heels clicking on the linoleum floor until she reached the door and pushed it open.

  As soon as he was completely alone, he decided he needed a little guidance himself. He walked outside and across the small parking lot to the church. He walked into the empty church slowly. He loved it when it was full of life and the congregation was listening, taking in his sermon as if what he said mattered. That his words could help.

  It hadn’t always been like that. Tara had taken a man who was on the fringes of bolting as his father had done and calmed the storm inside him with her love of God and her strong sense of roots in a community that had a history.

  He sat down in the front pew, where his family usually sat during his sermon. He liked having them sit there while he was up on the pulpit. It gave him strength and made it easier to talk about difficult times, like the death of Jacob Salt, as if he had words of wisdom that could make a difference. Right now there were no words of wisdom for him.

  Kneeling down on the bench in front of him, he put his hands together and prayed. The quiet prayers of a pastor were no different than any of the other members of the congregation. He was, after all, a man in crisis. He didn’t ask God to change Danny or keep him from falling into the same pattern his mother had as he got older. Instead, he asked God for strength to be able to handle the days ahead as a family, as a partner with Tara.

  The only judgment that mattered was the judgment he’d receive from God when one day they met. He’d been holding on too tight to the wrong thing. Thinking that if he could just do the right thing, have a life that was perfect, be the perfect husband, then the rest of his life would fall into place and they’d all be happy.

  But Bryce had been a failure. Mostly because of his inability to see what was right in front of him. He’d pushed Tara away. His sweet and beautiful partner in life who supported him and believed in him even during times when he didn’t believe in himself had been suffering while Bryce stayed silent. He’d pushed her away because he couldn’t stand to see the disappointment in her eyes when he couldn’t handle Danny. But when Carol started slipping away, Bryce couldn’t ignore how much he’d failed them all.

  He had no right to be angry with his mother-in-law. Alice Johnson was a respected elementary school principal that cared about all her students. And there was no question that she loved her grandchildren. He’d been a parent who’d kept his eyes closed for too long.

  “Danny is autistic,” Bryce whispered as he looked up at the altar. “But my son is my son no matter what. I love my family, come what may. God forgive me.”

  He made the sign of the cross and closed his eyes. Peace wouldn’t come until he made contrition to those he’d done wrong. He couldn’t blame Tara for seeking comfort with her family. They were strong. They loved each other deeply without reservation or judgment. Their support was not his failure. His lack of action was.

  And he was going to rectify that tonight.

  Chapter Nine

  The last thing Sebastian Rush’s senatorial campaign needed was for him to be seen at a rundown apartment complex on the outskirts of town. He was being scrutinized by the local media in preparation for the upcoming Founders’ Day celebration and, more importantly, his reelection bid for senator. So meeting Dakota at her filthy apartment was a risk. But she’d insisted and Sebastian couldn’t take a chance on her having a tantrum if she didn’t get her way.

  He pulled into the parking lot of the Live Oak Apartments. The complex was really a converted house, with Dakota living in the garage apartment, and the lot was a graveled area in what used to be the large side yard. He parked under a large tree next to a van that would hide his car. Dakota’s beat-up sedan was there, along with several other vehicles that were only fit for demolition.

  God, he hated this place. But the picture that Dakota had sent via text wearing nothing but a thong and a sheer wrap was driving him crazy. Of course, he’d deleted the picture immediately. He didn’t need anyone finding it on his phone—not that Payton would go looking. Sebastian didn’t need the photo to remember the sweet swell of Dakota Alvarez’s breasts sitting pert and pretty and waiting just for him.

  He chuckled as he got out of the car and locked the door. As he rounded the van, he looked up at Dakota’s living room window. She was probably sitting there waiting for him in that same chair she'd been sitting in when she’d taken the selfie. There were days when he hated that a woman as young and luscious as Dakota Alvarez had any kind of hold on him, even if it was only in bed.

  He climbed the stairs to her apartment and was about to knock on the door when he heard, “It’s open.”

  He pushed through the door and found Dakota sitting on the old sofa. She was wearing a sheer floral coverall that showed her perfectly round and erect nipples beneath the fabric.

  Sebastian cursed his weakness. She was too tempting. And she knew it. That’s what made her dangerous. He couldn’t afford the direction this tryst with Dakota had taken. She was wild and wonderful. But that made her a wildcard in a game he couldn’t afford to play right now. Not with his campaign just hitting full swing.

  It was better to take his pleasure with the young intern who was too shy and too willing to please him. But tonight, he’d have Dakota one last time.

  “What took you so long?” she asked with a wicked pout.

  He sighed but tried not to show his annoyance. “I can’t run over every time you feel lonely, Dakota.”

  She faltered with his outburst. “I missed you. Did you miss me?”

  He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants.

  Her eyes narrowed as she patted the space next to her. His stomach churned just thinking about the filth on the old sofa. Dakota found it acceptable, but what did he expect?

  “I don’t have time for that,” he said.

  “I just want to talk a little before—”

  “I don’t have time. Let’s get to it.”

  Her eyes widened. “I’m not a fucking whore, Sebastian. You don’t leave money on the dresser before you leave.”

  “Don’t talk that way. It doesn’t make you sound like a lady.”

  Her face suddenly beamed. Yes, he knew how to get her to behave. It was like a dog begging for a bone. He could say what he wanted and Dakota would sit. Or roll over and spread her legs.

  “I thought you liked me to be a bad girl when we’re alone.”

  “You know I do. Did you enjoy yourself the night at the cabin, Dakota?” He’d loved taking her like that. Hard and fast. For his pleasure alone.

  She opened her mouth, but hesitated before speaking. “I always enjoy myself when I’m with you.”

  She stood up and sauntered over to him with her hips swaying more than usual. Her hand went over his crotch and slid up and down beneath his pants, bringing him to life and causing him to breathe in hard.

  “Except the other day when I was at your campaign office.” Her doe eyes peered up at him. She was serious.

  “I’m a powerful man, Dakota. I’m married. I told you that no one can know about us.”

  “Your mother knows.”

  Anger roared through him. He gripped her hard by the shoulders, shaking her until he saw fear. “What did you tell her?”

  “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

  “Then how would she know?”

  Dakota shook her head, tears clinging to her overdone eyelashes. “She guessed. She was mean to me, Sebastian. She told me never to come to the office again. I mean, if she talks to all the people in the community that way, she’ll damage our chances of you getting reelected.”

  He cocked his head to one side, amused by her choice of words. “Our?”

  Her smile was weak and showed just how unsure she was as a woman, despite her choice of sexy clothing. “I know it’s…I always thought that maybe one day…”

  “You thought that I would leave my wife?”

  She did. It showed on h
er face. Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh. He backed away from Dakota and zipped his pants, his hard-on suddenly gone.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Leaving.”

  “But you just got here. We haven’t even…”

  “Fucked? No need. There’s a beautiful new intern in my office that can do the honors when she’s ready.”

  Anger filled her eyes. Dakota balled her fists and charged at him. He grabbed her arms before she could strike. He didn’t want any visible bruises he’d have to explain to anyone.

  “You can’t do that to me,” she said, her voice cracking as if she were actually brokenhearted about it.

  “Dakota, you’re a beautiful girl. One I’ve had a hard time resisting. But you’re not the only pretty flower in the garden. You weren’t the first of my mistresses and you won’t be the last.”

  Her bottom lip quivered as he fumbled with his belt. “You fucking bastard!”

  “Watch yourself, Dakota,” he said, more annoyed with the belt than he was with her outburst. “Words like that aren’t very ladylike. But then, you’ve never really been that kind of lady with me, have you?”

  Her eyes widened, and he saw both hurt and anger flare.

  He glanced down at the jewelry he’d given her. She’d been so thrilled to get the trifling little things, as if he’d been giving her the Hope Diamond. She wore it all proudly, like the pieces were trophies. “Consider those little bobbles payment for services rendered.”

  She touched the jewelry, and he remembered how willing she’d been to please him after the gift of each and every one.

  “That was a mean thing to say, Sebastian. I thought you loved…. Wait. Mistresses? Who the fuck have you been with? Were you with some little bitch when you were with me?”

  It wasn’t fun anymore. He’d enjoyed the little game they’d played because Dakota was so easy to manipulate and so willing to please him. But she’d overstayed her usefulness in his life and he had to cut her free before anyone else found out about them.