After the Storm

by Faith Andrews

  Her body shudders against mine as tears deplete her. My arms hold her tight, rocking her back and forth to show that I will forever protect her from all the fears that haunt her.

  “I love you.” She cries, over and over. “I love you, Noah. Thank you for loving me too.”

  We stay like this until my legs become numb beneath her body. When we regain the energy to leave the bed, I keep close watch on my little china doll of emotions. Our heart-to-heart seems to have done some good. Tears are gone, her smile’s bright, and the rosiness in her cheeks is enough to convince me that I’ve made a breakthrough.

  Rebuilding this neighborhood in the wake of Sandy should be the only restoration I have to do from here on out. Willow’s heart is intact; my love is doing its job to piece it back together. Who knew my skills went beyond hammers and nails? Willow and I have the foundation for an epic kind of love. With enough support and attention, I’m certain I can make her see that she’s all I’ll ever need.

  The whole way back to my parents, Willow clasps my hand and rubs her thumb over my knuckles. When we’re one block away, I stop the car and put it in park. “What’s up, buttercup?”

  “Nothing, really.” She shrugs. “Just hope your dad likes me.”

  I kiss her fingertips one at a time. “Anyone who doesn’t like you needs a beat down, my old man included. And don’t worry. He’s gonna love you just like Mom does.”

  She closes her eyes and breathes deep. Hazel eyes meet mine with hopefulness. “You see the world in such a positive light, Noah. Thank you for being what I needed to bring that spark back.”

  “You’re turning me into a pussy, so no more sweet talk for like a year after this, but I’ll just say one more thing. I’m only positive because of you. You bring it out in me and make me want to enjoy every second of life. I’m not exactly getting any younger. I wasted a lot of time working, brooding, and messing with the wrong girls, all because I was a stubborn prick with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove. But I’ve lived and learned and then I found you. I’m gonna go all Jerry Maguire on you, babe. You. Complete. Me.”

  Her head falls back as she laughs, all signs of nervousness gone. I love her all ways, but this way is the best. Happy, smiling, carefree. “You had me at hello. Now, take me home to Papa. I’m ready.”

  “So am I.” She has no idea that I’m talking about our forever.

  “The Brickmans are staying with relatives a few towns over. Meredith and Steven’s house—there’s nothing left, Noah. It’s a pile of rubble. And don’t get me started on—”

  “Dad! Calm down.” He’s a mile a minute of negativity and worry since we walked in.

  Willow’s eyes ping pong between him and me as he literally lists all the neighbors in need of help.

  “I’m sorry, son, I’m just—no one predicted it would be this bad. We weren’t prepared.”

  Willow steps in with an attempt to lighten the gloomy atmosphere dulling her first meeting with my dad. “Mr. Matheson, you and Nancy were more than prepared. Seems that everyone needs a lesson in Couponing 101. I bet you can pack up half your stockpile and help multiple families just on that alone. Noah and I are going to go to his old school and the Red Cross site first thing in the morning to see what else they need. I’m sure they’re so grateful for all you’ve already contributed.”

  “See,” my father snorts. “And you made fun of me. Your old man is always a step ahead. When are you gonna accept it?”

  I shake my head at my father’s ridiculous egoism. It’s not like he invented the cure for cancer, but if that damn collection of coupon madness makes him feel like Superman, so be it. “Yeah, Dad. You got me there. You’re a genius. You happy?”

  “Why, now that you ask, I am.” He grabs Willow’s hand with one of his and clasps mine in the other. “This makes me happy. My boy and his lady! A contented heart is the calm sea in the midst of all storms.”

  My eyes snap to Willow’s and simultaneously we blurt out, “Pinterest?”

  My father tilts his head, scrunching his brows together. “Huh?”

  “That quote,” Willow says. “Where’s it from? It’s beautiful. I have this Pinterest obsession. Noah’s finally catching on.”

  Dad laughs and gives his head a shake. “I have no idea what the heck a Pinterest is, but I believe that’s from the Bible. I don’t pretend to be spiritual—haven’t seen the inside of a church since Noah was baptized—but in times like these, people pray. I heard someone say it last night and it stuck with me. Everyone finds their own meanings in things. To me that wasn’t necessarily about a higher power, but about seeing the good during a tragic time. This hurricane rocked us, but having you two here and finally getting to meet the woman my son can’t stop talking about—let’s just say, my heart is content.”

  Willow sighs. Her chin rests on her hand as she stares at my father with goo-goo eyes. “Now I know where he gets it. The Matheson men are true romantics. Nancy and I are two lucky girls.”

  “The luckiest,” my father agrees. He taps Willow on the nose with a smile. “But I think we’re even luckier. Behind every great man is an even greater woman.”

  “Oh my God! You two and your quotes!” I throw my hands up in the air, exhausted by the constant play on words between these two. “Can’t you make up your own clever shit without having to copycat dead people?”

  “Ah, sweetheart,” my dad whispers as he inches closer to Willow. “He’s just jealous. He may have gotten my good looks and kind heart, but the brains—” He knocks his head with his fist. “Thank God he was good at sports in college. Let’s just put it that way.”

  “Wow, real nice!” I nod, pursing my lips.

  Willow laughs, but I can tell she’s only appeasing my patronizing father. It’s always been a running joke that I made it by on charm and baseball. That’s why I worked so hard and put so much effort into my business. Not only am I a momma’s boy, but I have that whole complex about making my dad proud. Mom and I wanted for nothing when I was a kid because dad worked hard and loved hard, so growing up I felt this crazy pressure to be just like him.

  Dedicated to his job and his family, loved by all, and better looking than most sixty-five-year-old men I know. And talk about smart? Dude’s a walking encyclopedia. It’s hard to measure up, and he busts my balls whenever he can, but deep down I know I’ve made him proud. Especially by choosing the woman in front of him as the one to spend the rest of my days with. I feel it in my bones and it’s as plain as day on his face—he thinks Willow’s a keeper. I did good, and now I can rest easy.

  “Well, now that you’ve done everything to embarrass me except take out old baby photos and videos, I’m beat. Ready to hit the sack, Willow?” I rise from the table and extend an open palm to her. Those hazel eyes are dancing again, which causes my heart to melt. I did it! I want to punch the air and celebrate rock star style. Willow so comfortable and happy does things to me that I can’t explain. It’s euphoric. Let’s put it that way.

  She stands to join me and then leans down to kiss Dad atop his salt and pepper hair. “You’re one amazing man, Mr. Matheson. Thank you, and Nancy, for welcoming me into your beautiful family.”

  Dad blushes and shoos her away. As we walk toward the steps to make our way to bed, I look over my shoulder at my dad still seated at the table. With his beer in one hand, he lifts the other and gives me a thumbs up. It’s the approval I need to know I’ve done everything right in his eyes. I feel like the king of the fucking world tonight.

  As we head into Westmont High, we’re bombarded with yet more chaos and upheaval. Reality sets in, along with an uneasy sense of disbelief. Is this real? You see this on TV and think it can’t ever happen to you. Then it does and it’s still as though you’re watching from above, a spectator to some fictional scene in a far off land that depressingly happens to look like home. It hasn’t really sunk in that once all the missing and/or dead are accounted for and the dust settles, there will be a lot of shit to get done around here. I
anticipate a great deal of rebuilding, not only in the structural sense, but also as a spiritual mission for those whose lives have been turned inside out. It will be a long road to recovery.

  I keep a tight grasp on Willow’s hand as we walk through the main entrance of the school. Nostalgia knocks me in the gut. Pride and longing mix with so many memories I almost falter from the dizziness.

  Willow—having only graduated ten years ago as opposed to my twenty—skips over to the trophy cabinet and points. “Oh my God, Noah! That’s you, isn’t it?” She gawks through the glass at the MVP award and the photo of me in my uniform from senior year.

  I join her, lift my arm to drape it around her shoulders, and remember how good it felt to be honored in that way. It feels like just yesterday that my teammates carried me on their shoulders across the diamond, yet it also seems ages ago. “Yup. That’s your jock boyfriend. So cliché.” I roll my eyes. The triviality of that title embarrasses me now. Back then, that was my pinnacle. Every high school boy dreams of being exactly who I was. But having experienced so much life since then, I realize that was just a blip on the radar of great things to come. My pinnacle is standing next to me in awe of my past accomplishments. She’s my MVP. That beats the shit out of being Mr. Popularity for those four immature years of adolescence.

  “You were one fine jock, Noah Matheson. Shit, you must’ve had a different date every night! I should bow at your feet. I didn’t realize you were high school royalty.”

  She raises her arms to bow in praise, but I stop her with a quick kiss. She can’t break free when I wrap her arms around my back and hold them in a tight grip.

  “I may have been a hotshot back then, but nothing compares to how powerful you make me feel. If you must know, I was always too into the game to date. Sure, there were a few girls here and there, and I later found out I had some crushes that I was oblivious to, but high school is ancient history to me now. I’m approaching twenty years since I left this place. Crazy, right?”

  “Damn, you’re old!” she jokes just before she presses her lips against mine without inhibition.

  Guilt washes over me as my thoughts wander past the incredibly sweet set of lips that make my dick hard in my jeans. I can’t help being here—within these hallowed walls—and thinking of Mia. Truth is, I haven’t thought about her in a long time—since I’ve been with Willow I haven’t had to—but here, her memory is strong, haunting me for some unknown reason I can’t ignore.

  I pull back. I don’t want to taint these perfect moments with the woman I love more than anything in this world. She doesn’t deserve it, and I’ll be damned if my brain is gonna fuck with me right now. “As much as I wish we could turn back around and go home to continue this, we should get to the gym. That’s where they said everyone is.”

  Peace washes over her face as a whisper-like sigh escapes her. “Fine,” she whines. “Let’s do what we came here for so you can spend the rest of the night fucking me against your wall again.”

  My eyes pop open, my mouth salivates at the thought of her legs spread open for me, her ass in the air as she bends over that railing and screams my name while milking my cock dry.

  “Earth to Noah,” Willow sings.

  I shake my head, cartoon-style, and come back to reality. “Let’s get this over with. I have plans for you, you naughty girl.”

  “Oh, good. I hope they’re really, really dirty plans.” She hooks her arm in mine; the slightest touch of her skin causes my dick to beg for attention.

  Arching up on tiptoes, she whispers in my ear, “My pussy’s throbbing, soaking wet, just thinking about how good it felt when you slapped my ass as you drove into me over and over again.”

  A growl erupts from my throat, my eyes roll to the back of my head. “Are you trying to fucking kill me? Because it’s working. And I think I just came a little in my pants.”

  Her giggle echoes through the hallway as I try to remain stable on legs that are shaky with lust. “We’re not normal people, you know? This is supposed to be a somber time and here we are mentally fucking each other in my old high school like two horny, sex-starved teenagers.”

  “Can’t help what you do to me, baby.” Her smile melts my heart. “No matter where we are, you’ll always have this effect over me and I won’t ever apologize for it, doesn’t matter what the circumstances are.”

  This side of her is a welcome change from my weeping Willow. Happiness treks through my veins, pumps my blood fiercer, strengthens my muscles—like the fucking Incredible Hulk ready to burst, but in a good way. With my arm wrapped around her shoulder, I nuzzle close and promise to make her feel this way forever. “I’ll keep your panties wet for years to come, baby. Don’t you worry.”

  The gym is nothing like I last saw it, other than the retired basketball and baseball jerseys—including mine—hung up around the perimeter of the cavernous florescent-lit room. There are over twenty or thirty cots set up as makeshift beds with mounds of people’s belongings, including cribs and playpens with their crying babies begging to be set free.

  “How sad,” Willow comments, and digs her nails into my shoulders. “I’ll see if any of those moms need help with their babies.” I shouldn’t be surprised—she gravitates towards children—but I don’t want her to get upset again when we leave here.

  Taking her face in my hands, I gaze into those mood ring eyes, and kiss the tip of her nose. “I’m right behind you. Let me check in over there and see what else I can find out.”

  She rushes out of sight and I make my way to a table of volunteers. Everything seems so neat and orderly—I give my town credit for getting things together so quickly and making this place a refuge for those in need. There are bags of Dad’s extras in my car, ready to be handed out where needed. I make that my first order of business when I approach the balding man behind the folding table full of lists and papers. “Hi, I’m an alumni of the school. My girlfriend and I were hoping we could help in some way.”

  “Matheson, right?” The man narrows his eyes, scanning my features in recollection.

  “Yes, but I’m sorry, I don’t remember you.”

  “I had you for history. Mr. Gonzales. Don’t expect you’d remember me. You hated my class.”

  You can say that again. It was boring as shit. I’d rather watch sheet rock dry than do that over again. “Holy sh—, I mean, wow! Now I remember. You’re still teaching here? It’s been forever, but now that I think of it, time’s been good to you Mr. Gonzales.”

  “James.” He extends his hand; I take it and shake. That nostalgia creeps up again. “Thanks, Noah. You look well too. I heard you moved west. The storm bring you back? Is your family okay?”

  We exchange pleasantries for a few more minutes. He mentions a bunch of names that bring back flashes of memories, like old photos stored in my brain uncovered all this time. When the cruise down memory lane comes to an end, Mr. Gonzales hands me information about what areas are in need of the most clean-up, organizations collecting funds, and a list of items that there are desperate shortages of.

  “Schools will be closed until the end of the week, at least. Westmont’s obviously still standing, but some of the others had damage and still don’t have power, so they’re working to figure out where to put the overflow of students for the time being. Are you sticking around for a while or do you have to get back to San Diego right away?”

  The thought crosses my mind that I’m needed here in ways far greater than my duties at Matheson Contracting. But I can’t expect Willow to up and leave everything for a long period of time, and Blaze still isn’t up to manning things back home. I’m so torn, so put on the spot, I simply shrug. “Let’s see what happens. I’m taking each day as it comes. Until then, just like everything around here, it’s all up in the air.”

  With one last departing handshake, I thank Mr. Gonzales for the information and for all he’s doing for the community. I turn to find Willow so we can be on our way to the next stop—my warehouse for supplies—and my jaw d
rops to the floor when I see who she’s talking to.

  It can’t be! No mother fucking way! What is she doing here? Whose baby is that? Why the hell is Willow talking to Mia Murphy?

  This place reeks of desperation. So weird because upon entering the school, I felt nothing short of overjoyed. It was like walking into my man’s personal little homecoming. The whole visit has been surreal. First I met his parents—who are the most wonderful human beings on the planet—then I saw his beautiful home, and now I’m walking through the place he spent the most memorable four years of his life. Happiness with a side of devastation. Kind of a theme I’ve got going on. Either way, regardless of our purpose here, I’m happy I came.

  Seeing these glimpses of his past gives me a better grasp on who he was and what he’s become. My love for him grows exponentially every time I learn something new. It’s both refreshing and scary as hell at the same time. Why? Because I loved Kurt with all my heart and when he left I never imagined I’d find that again. But what I have with Noah—I don’t think there’s one word to describe it. He’s seen me at my worst, overlooks my ugliest flaws, understands my insecurities, and accepts everything about me that would send any other guy running. All the shit that did send another guy running.

  There were times during this trip that I imagined the end. I made it a reality and forced myself to believe that ridding Noah of me and my imperfections was the best thing for both of us. I had one foot out the door, back on that plane, until my wonderful, loving, caring, amazing boyfriend convinced me that I need to trust him and believe that the two of us were meant to be.