Her mother returned to the table and Stormi left, feeling guilty for enjoying the separation from her. Nevertheless, when her plate was filled, she meandered back to the table, wondering what avenue her mother would take to berate her on this trip.
“Really, Stormi. Can’t you shorten your bangs? They’re in your eyes. You should get a sensible cut, like a pageboy, or a shag.”
“Shags went out in the nineties.”
Her mother drew up her body, and her face contorted into a stiff mask. “They did not. My hairdresser gives shags all the time. Just like Florence Henderson. And she was famous.”
Stormi glanced to her mother’s hair which was dyed too dark for her age. It brought out the wrinkles on her face and made her appear pale. And considering her ancient stylist, it was no wonder she still gave shags. All of her patrons paid their weekly bills with their Social Security checks.
“I’ll check into it, Mother.”
“I could ask Maxine to trim it. I bet she could fit you in for a good cut.”
A shiver chased its way down Stormi’s spine. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“Yes, and why, I ask you. You just got here.”
Stormi wanted to stand and sing in opera, “Because of your lovely ambiance, Mother dear.” But she froze into a shadow of herself to keep her sanity. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Well, you should be. I have no idea why you moved so far away. What were you thinking?”
The opera continued in Stormi’s mind. Because I must breathe fresh air untainted by your negativity. Instead she said, “I know. I’m sorry.”
“You are always sorry. But you’re never here when I need you.”
“Again, sorry.”
“Is that all you’re eating? You’ve always been too thin.”
Mother proceeded to continue the discussion of how ShaVonn had failed her as a daughter, and how Stormi, although bright, raced down a similar path.
Stormi studied the people around her as her mother continued to point out her various flaws, lauding her cures to fix the entire situation. And the mental opera soon turned quite repetitive into, “Lord, deliver me from this day.”
The evening meal with ShaVonn and her family didn’t improve the general theme of the Thanksgiving extravaganza. Over a bucket of the colonel’s extra crispy, Stormi had to revisit the same opera house, with practically the identical performance as lunch. It turned out to be a short visit, for ShaVonn soon had enough of Mother’s thick layer of guilt and packed her two kids and husband up in the car and drove away.
Mother left shortly, leaving Stormi alone in the small dank house. She sighed. It was just as well. In her room she rested on the floor under the same window she’d sought sanctuary as a child. The temperature in the room chilled her as there was no heat source in this section of the dumpy house. Just like old times. Too much freaking like old times.
She rose, dressed for bed, and then snuggled under a mound of blankets on one of the single beds. Another glorious holiday. She squinted her eyes closed and began to pray for everyone on her prayer list, putting her mother at the top. Mother had done the best she could, she supposed, and Stormi was thankful for her raising.
Stormi fingered the still-swollen piercing on the right side of her mouth. It seemed most resistant to healing. A little like her. Help me heal, Lord. And help me love those who don’t know how to love.
***
Stormi glanced up at Ray over the goblet of water. The restaurant’s dim interior failed to hide the burgundy silk tablecloths and the golden silverware. She ran her finger around the golden trim on her salad plate.
“Yeah, once I graduated from the University of Florida, I decided to come back home. You know, take over the family business scenario.”
Stormi took a deep breath. Could the night get any longer?
“Had a lot of great times at UF. Wow.” He laughed and spun the vodka glass on the dark ring on his gold placemat. “I could have stayed in college forever.”
He raised his glass and took a swig. His second drink. And he drove. Nervousness spun in her belly. Everything screamed too familiar. His cocky glances. The bragging. The alcohol. Ray held up his empty decanter and motioned to the white-shirted waiter as he passed.
Stormi stood. “I need to visit the ladies room. Excuse me.”
She felt him turn to ogle her from behind, and she let out a groan. The waiter passed her with the clear, one hundred proof vodka bottle, and it was all she could do not to head to the exit. Instead she pushed the heavy cherry door of the ladies lounge open and bellied up to the mirror. Toilets flushed in the room beyond, but here in the small powder room decorated in floral, she stood alone. Thank God.
She set her silver glittered purse on the counter and examined herself in the mirror. Why had she agreed to this date? Had she lost her mind? She settled into the busy floral chair and tucked her legs into the long ruffles at the bottom. She pulled out her phone. Poor Alan. About to get another earful.
Ake Pearson’s face skittered across her thoughts. How much more pleasant it would be sitting on a freezing bench exchanging conversation with her dark-eyed friend. She wondered if he even possessed a cell phone. Probably not. A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. He seemed much too fundamental for that. A man’s working man. And there was no denying he worked hard with his big rough hands and muscle-swollen shoulders.
She twisted her lips to the side. Who knew she’d be such a fan of a blue collar bear? Suddenly she wished she could call him. Just to talk. Hear him laugh. No snide comments, no hidden agenda, just pure sweet togetherness. She glanced at her reflection. What a nut. She must be lonely or something to crave such a connection.
Several women walked through the room to exit, and Stormi rose. She fluffed her hair and stared at herself in the mirror. Don’t be an idiot. Go finish this, whatever it was, and go home. And stop thinking about a man who barely graduated from high school.
She patted her hair then rolled her eyes. Now she felt like a creep. Ake Pearson had proved to be a true friend and she had just slammed him. Thankfully, for once, she hadn’t said it aloud. Sorry, Ake. You’re not a dummy. You’re unique. She blinked at herself for several minutes, wishing once again it were Ake at the table instead of Ray. With a sigh she picked up her purse and returned to the land of King Ray.
***
Stormi hurried down the snowy sidewalk. She was late. Ake would already be gone for sure. She skipped the grill for now and headed straight for her usual bench. Excellent. Both Sea Wheat boats rested against the dock. The men appeared slower today. Perhaps the harsh drop in temperature had affected their usual enthusiasm. She seated herself on the bench, hoping Ake had not descended into the hull of the boat.
She began to lose hope however, when Sea Wheat 2 headed out to the bay. Still a couple of canvas-covered men hobbled around the icy dock. One broke away and started up the steps. When he lifted his head, she met familiar eyes.
“Hi.”
“Good morning.” Her voice carried a little too much enthusiasm.
He perched on the end of the bench and held up a thermos. “I need to get some hot coffee. My coffee maker broke this morning.”
“Oh, sorry.”
He shrugged. “No big deal. The Grill opens early. I’ll be back.”
She chewed her chapped lips and then fished around in her pocket for some lip balm. The big man on the dock looked up and scowled. Ake’s brother. Stormi wondered if he were irritated at Ake’s absence. He turned away, and she shifted her eyes to the still blue water and gray sky. Hard to believe they would go out on such a cold day.
Ake returned and resumed his previous seat, presenting her with a cup. “Cherry coke?”
Pleased he’d remembered, she smiled and accepted the gift. “Oh, you didn’t need to do that. But thanks.”
He took a swig from his thermos. “Everything okay with you?”
“Sure.”
He nodded and glanced down at the dock. “Have a nice Than
ksgiving?”
Stormi swallowed. “Not really.”
He turned to her. “Oh? Why?’
She shrugged. “Long story.”
“Wish I could hear it.”
The icy air invaded her neck, and she pulled up the hood. “Why?”
Ake set his eyes on the horizon. “Sometimes it helps to talk it out.”
She nodded. “I suppose so. Except in my case.”
He set his gaze on her and she felt a tug to continue. “My family put the capital D in dysfunctional.”
His brows pulled together.
She waved a hand at him. “Suffice it to say, they have major issues.”
“I see.”
Two men broke away from the pack on the dock and hurried up the stairs. One big redhead with a huge beard and one dark haired man with thin lips and big gums. As he passed, big gums slapped Ake on the shoulders.
“Never going to happen, Dummy. Give it up.”
The other man laughed and muttered something to the other.
Ake dipped his head and then lifted his gaze to the ocean view.
“What was that for?”
Silence met Stormi’s ears which struck her as unusual. How she hated that nickname. Ake in his normal habitat just spoke his mind. But something seemed to have stopped it up.
“Ake?”
His eyes fastened on hers. “Nothing. They’re just teasing me.”
“About?”
He took a deep breath. “They think I want you as my girlfriend.”
A laugh burst from her, but his lowered head frightened the mirth away. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing about that, really, just it sounds like high school.”
Ake gave a small smile. “Yeah.”
The sadness written on his face sobered her. “Really, Ake. I wasn’t laughing at the thought of us being boyfriend and girlfriend.”
He nodded. “It’s okay. I only had one date my Senior Prom. Hoge found a girl to go with me, but she said it wasn’t like that either. She did it as a favor. I understand.”
Fury and sorrow fought a battle in Stormi, and she shoved her mittened hands into her pockets. The men returned from the grill with hot drinks, pounding Ake on the shoulder again and laughing. It took a large amount of control not to knock those two down the stairs. When the two men made it to the dock, one of them handed a Styrofoam cup to Ake’s brother. More scowls.
What complete blockheads. As if Ake didn’t deserve a normal blissful life of marriage and a family. A perfect plan began to formulate in her mind. “You know. We could pretend.”
“Huh?”
“We could give them a real show. Shut them up for good.”
Ake’s eyes crinkled. “I don’t follow you.”
She scooted closer and shot him a grin. “We could pretend we were together. A couple. Then they wouldn’t tease you.”
He shook his head with a start of a smile. “I’m not much into pretending.”
“It wouldn’t be complicated.” Brilliance lightened her demeanor. She arched closer and tilted her head coquettishly, the flirt that never failed to provoke a man’s attention. “You wouldn’t have to say anything about us. You could just shrug it off. Or just smile. What’s between a man and a woman is private, after all.”
His dark eyes, open and trusting, glued to hers. “I don’t know how that would work.”
“I do. We could kiss.”
Chapter Eight
Ake’s mouth fell open. “What?”
She giggled. It was perfect. “Right here, right now.”
He swiped the heavy stubble on his chin. “I’m not sure what to say.”
“Come closer.” She patted the spot next to her. Without a word, he rose and obeyed. He appeared much larger beside her. A man’s man. She rested her hand on his arm. “Okay, now, we’ll just stay close a minute, make sure they are watching. We’ll lean forward intimately, gradually. Like two lovers. And then, we’ll kiss.”
His gaze went to the dock. His fingers gripped the thermos. “Listen, I’m not too good at the kissing thing.”
She laughed. “It’ll be just a normal kiss.”
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “My normal kiss is a peck to my mom’s head. Is that what you’re talking about?”
With a giggle she pulled the thermos from his hand and set it on the bench. “No, silly. A real kiss. A man-to-woman kiss.”
His face grew serious. “Can’t say I’m familiar with that.”
“What? You’ve never kissed a woman?” Was he joking? A smile crept across her face.
“No.”
Her grin disappeared. “Never?”
“No.”
“Oh. I—” What to say to that? “Do you want to?”
From the way he was examining her lips, she knew she had her answer. “Okay, put your arm over my shoulder here.”
She worked his heavy arm around her back. Hey, if this man wanted to know how to give a romantic kiss, he’d come to the right gal. And boy, would she play it up. “Perhaps you could put your other hand here, on my cheek.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And then we look deep into each other’s eyes for a moment and—” Before she could finish her coaching, his lips latched on hers, warming, exploring. It caught her off-guard, but she soon rose to the challenge and pulled him into her embrace, teaching him the fine art of lip-locking. Just for good measure she slipped her hand from her mitten and looped her fingers into the locks of hair at the nape of his neck.
For someone with zero experience, he took to it like a pro. The smell of his clean male skin combined with the firm pressure of his lips mixed up some kind of witches’ brew that she drank in like an intoxicating beverage. Sweet passion nudged her as his beard brushed against her skin.
The kiss deepened, and Stormi could sense his urgency. Her own yearnings needed a hose down, as well. They had to come up for air and cool this train off. She wrenched her lips from his. He sat there pressing against her, mouth parted, eyes trained on her face with open desire. She swallowed. Intense longing urged her for an instant replay. Wow. So much for pretense.
“Okay, now we ease apart.” She positioned her hands against his chest to get him to move. “A—part.”
He edged backwards, his hungry gaze never leaving hers. The air almost pulsated between them.
“And that’s how you do it.” Stormi licked her lips. Reality check. Just helping the guy out. Yet, somehow she felt like she’d stolen a juice box from a child.
He gave a slight nod.
“See, look. They saw.” She jerked her head toward the dock which detached his gaze from her face.
“Uh-huh.”
All three men stood staring. Hoge’s mouth hung open. Ake, however, didn’t seem very thrilled with it. He lowered his head.
“Ake?”
“Yeah?”
A shiver of regret slithered through her body. Don’t get carried away. Keep it in teacher/student mode. “Let’s stand and give one last kiss.”
“Huh?”
“Stand. Here’s your thermos.”
The man stood and worked his way toward the steps. Stormi followed. “Now, true lovers would give a parting kiss.”
He paused obediently. She snugged herself into the cove of his body. All she had to do was put a little frosting on the cake. Nothing wrong with that. “Like this.”
Not much conversation proceeded from his mouth, but he nodded, his dark eyes probing her face. His solemnness made her attempt some humor.
She gave a small laugh. “You look as if I’m torturing you. Am I torturing you?”
“No.”
“Upsetting you?”
“No.”
The canvas of his jacket scraped against her cheek. “Put your arm around me again. That’s it. Now we—”
“I think I got it.”
His lips covered hers once more. Gently, like a caress. Ake’s powerful arms cradled her and bent her body slightly backwards. Yes, he was a quick study. Maybe not as i
conic as V-J Day in Times Square, but definitely classy. She let herself relax and sighed, ecstasy radiating through her body. How lovely it would be to complete the rhapsody. Glide along on the pleasure of his maleness, so defined, so—his lips left hers.
“See ya.” Ake breathed.
He tromped down the stairs before she could try to decipher the expression on his face. The men leaped aboard the Sea Wheat 1 and set it into motion. Just as they reached the mouth of the bay, one man came to the stern of the boat and raised his left arm. Ake. Stormi gave a small thoughtful smile as she waved back. She took a deep gulp of icy air. Somehow the whole plan curdled her stomach. She’d relished his kiss, yet had she helped him? Or hurt him?
***
Ake stared at the gash in his forearm. He’d been foolish to reach out while the winch sucked in the netting. The metal edge had sliced him open. Hoge was there in a moment with gauze and wrappings, stemming the bleeding.
Hoge flung commands at the men behind him. “Turn the boat back to the harbor, Delbert. Double Goose, bring in the net.”
His brother pushed him to the side of the boat, away from the winch.
“We can’t go in. We’re not done.”
“You are.” He barked. “What were you thinking, Dummy? You’ve been doing this since you were in diapers. That broad’s got you messed up.”
Ake couldn’t answer that given there was much truth to it. Hoge wrestled him to the bench.
“Durn it, Dummy, sit down.”
“I ain’t no kid, Hoge.”
His brother slapped a hand to his forehead. “Don’t you know you could’ve yanked your arm plumb off? How long do you think I could keep you alive then, Ake. Huh?”
Ake pressed a hand to the red spot blooming through the bandages. “It’s just a cut. Not a big deal.”
“Are you joking me? That’s going to need a hundred stitches.”
Hoge disappeared into the wheelhouse and brought out more bandages. Ake glanced about at the other three men whose usual banter had disappeared. They scurried about, finishing the catch, casting uneasy eyes at the pair of them. What trouble he’d caused. Hoge crouched before him and pressed more gauze squares to the cut.
The Secret Storm Page 6
