The Secret Storm

by Peggy Trotter

  Her gray eyes were back on him. She sure did study on him a lot, and it put a wondering in him as to what shot through that sweet head of hers. Did she consider him a big dummy? A big strong dummy without a brain? An old movie swept his thoughts. Like a scarecrow with straw for brains, only bigger and denser. Ray Newhouse, star quarterback on his high school football team, had called him a “fencepost.” Hadn’t been a compliment.

  Despite his misgivings, he brushed the bangs from her forehead. She didn’t back away. Her hands twined up together under her chin, the edge of her sleeves tugged over her hands, her gaze firmly locked on his. A petite pixie, she fascinated him. He cleared his throat and forced himself to step away and collect his coat. An age-old adage smote him. A gentleman kept his hands to himself.

  “Ake?”

  ***

  Stormi wrung her hands while Ake ordered parts at the hardware store counter. A Ma and Pa place, it was filled with parts with little organization. She wondered briefly if she could afford all the stuff he rattled off. But that wasn’t what was on Stormi’s mind. The strangest expression had crossed Ake’s face before they’d left her house, and she still obsessed over what it could be about. Had he seen? Those horrid tattooed sleeves never seemed to be one hundred percent hidden.

  The image of pink cherry blossoms vined around her skin with black, fishnet Victorian lace, interspersed with light blue butterflies filled her mind. Both of her arms were entirely covered, ending in a scalloped edging at the wrists. This often peeked out even from long-sleeved shirts. She’d kept it hidden the last several months. Her hair had been an easy fix. The studs embedded in her face and skin had taken more time to heal, but for the most part—gone. But the double full-out tattooed sleeves were here to stay.

  Alan preached to her about the insignificance of the marks, yet she knew they represented the life she’d led before her conversion. It had taken weeks to get both of them applied. Rarely had she been sober when she’d visited Ink, Inc., for her appointments lasted hours. Hours of needle pricks. Hours of pain. Marla had been at her side then, partaking of all the goods of the tattoo parlor’s illegal painkillers. The whole foggy memory made her want to retch.

  She shot a glance at Ake, but he smiled and led her out of the store. They got in the truck and had the supplies loaded in back. Ake’s gaze rested on her several times on the way to her house, but she was busy running her finger from one shoulder to the other, thinking of the lacy tattoos beneath her fingers, wondering if a good man like Ake would be repelled. They stopped briefly at Ake’s house for tools and were soon on their way to her place.

  They pulled into her driveway, and she forced her mind away from the horrible thoughts converging in her mind. Instead she helped him carry in the new purchases. Ake lugged in stacks of wood as if they were bags of cotton balls. She dreaded pulling her coat off.

  Ake wasted no time, and Stormi paced, unsure what to do, so inside herself with worry. She held boards when he asked her to, and he kept up a lively chatter to make the time pass. Soon the entire wall was framed in and only needed insulation.

  He slung his hammer back onto his tool belt and unsnapped it. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry”

  Dinner. Oh, poodles and Chihuahuas. Why hadn’t she thought of that instead of sulking around most the afternoon?

  He tilted his head. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. How about pizza?”

  “You mean, here?”

  She spun to find her phone. “We could order and have it delivered.”

  “Perfect.”

  She looked up the number while Ake perched on a stool. When the pizza place answered, she rattled off a quick order and then hung up. She turned and pulled a cold water bottle from the fridge and set it before him.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you like that kind of pizza? I didn’t even think to ask.”

  His face slowly split into a grin. “I eat most anything.”

  “Good.” She stared at him and tugged at her sleeve edge.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  Suddenly the ground didn’t feel familiar. She’d never been shy by any means, but things seemed to spin from her control. He continued to study her. She looked away.

  “Why do you do that?”

  “What?” Even to her own ears she sounded defensive.

  He pointed to her sleeves where she’d tugged them over her hands.

  Yeesh. No way they were going there. “No reason. More water?”

  “No. I’m fine,” he replied.

  She settled on the stool alongside him.

  “You want me to go?”

  His voice was low, his eyes gentle, and she wanted to cry. “Of course not.”

  He nodded, but puzzlement stayed crinkled on his face, and the guilt inside Stormi bloomed hot and thick. Maybe Hoge was right. She’d been a player. He—an innocent. She didn’t deserve to have him even as a friend. Maybe he did need protection from her. Maybe her moniker was nothing more than tattooed seducer. She bit her lip and tried to squelch down the anger that rose with the thought.

  A loud knock sounded on the back door. She breathed a sigh of relief, thankful the pizza delivery guy had arrived. But when she opened the door, an angry Hoge stood there.

  He gave her a glare and stepped around her.

  “I knew I’d find you here. You’re supposed to be at our house, remember? Lasagna—ring a bell?”

  Ake stood, confusion marring his handsome face. “Is that tonight?”

  “Yes, Dummy. I reminded you yesterday.”

  Ake shuffled. “Sure, sorry. I’ll be right over.”

  Hoge paused at the door to point his finger at her. “You’re not doing a lot to make me think you’re a good influence.”

  Stormi resisted biting his condescending digit and dropped her eyes. He strode from the room.

  Ake rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Stormi. I guess the project sorta threw me off. You’re welcome to come with me. Joni makes great lasagna.”

  Stormi tightened all her muscles to keep the grief inside until she could shepherd Ake out the door. “No, I understand. Go. And I think I’ll bow out for church tomorrow. Maybe some other time.”

  Ake nodded, and tried to smile. “I’m really sorry. Don’t mind Hoge. He’s just mad at me, not you. See ya.”

  Once he left, she shut the door and turned off the lights. Tears in the dark didn’t seem as real.

  Chapter Eleven

  Hoge sat like a huge thunderhead on the driver’s side truck cushion. His brother had beckoned him into the cab for a private conference once Ake arrived at Hoge’s house.

  “Don’t talk to Stormi that way, Hoge.” Ake kept his voice soft and even.

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  Hoge growled and his voice came like a whiplash. “You mean to sit there and tell me what to do? While you bay after some wild woman? I don’t get you.”

  Ake let the silence stretch, but Hoge was having none of it.

  “Why her? Some stranger? You need to find someone who knows about how you were raised, Ake. A person who knows where you came from.”

  “Like you?”

  “Yes. Thunderation. It’s going to take a special woman for you.”

  Special.

  Ake’s voice became quiet in the cab of the truck, the darkness outside only making it more so. “I know you think I’m retarded, Hoge. That I ain’t smart enough to have a normal life like you. I’ve always been protected by family and friends, and I appreciate that. Everybody thinks they know what’s best for me, but I don’t get to go home to a warm house filled with my own family, with my own wife. And I want you to think about that, Hoge. Going home, alone, every night. Would you trade for that?”

  Steam seemed to evaporate from Hoge’s body. “No. You know I wouldn’t.”

  Ake nodded. “Well, I know you don’t like Stormi. But I do. And maybe she’s just a friend. Probably is, because
you always point out, I’m not smart. But I like being around her, and I don’t think it’s fair for you to say mean things to her because of it.”

  Hoge let out a big sigh. “I don’t want her to hurt you, Ake. She’s…worldly.”

  “I know. But I can’t have you saying mean things to her.”

  In the darkness, the porch light of Hoge’s house flicked on. Joni’s signal for them to hurry. “All right. I won’t. I hope you know what you’re doing, Ake.”

  He shook his head. “I never do. I just let God take care of it.”

  ***

  Ake sped up the treadmill until he was in full throttle. Sweat poured from his body. The lasagna had been extra good tonight, but Hoge had been in a sulky mood. Joni had ribbed Ake in the kitchen about his “girlfriend” making him lose track of the time and practically missing family dinner night. She urged him to bring her with him on the next dinner night. Well, he would certainly ask. Again.

  He powered down the machine until he finished his three mile run at a medium walk to cool off. Good thing he hadn’t let it slip that he’d rather eat pizza with Stormi any night of the week than eat Joni’s best lasagna. He shook his head. The woman was getting to him. Something had been on her mind today, but she’d shut him out. That didn’t sit well.

  He finished his weights before taking a quick shower, and then he settled at the bead table. The ruby and crystal necklace and bracelet for his mother hung from a nail on the wall. He should box it up in case she came over for some strange reason. Course with Pop ailing, she wouldn’t venture out unless someone stayed at the house.

  A new creation of black wire and turquoise beads now covered his work space. He picked up his needle nosed pliers and carefully completed another turn of a spiral black wire and inserted the colored bead at the end. It would be perfect for Stormi. Like rounded lace around her neck with the burst of light blue beads catching the light. He could imagine her in a slinky black dress with the spiraled necklace about her neck. He’d make a bracelet and earrings, of course, though he’d never seen her with earrings. But she sported pierced holes, so he assumed she wore them. Yes, she’d be a vision.

  He’d like nothing better than to have her on his arm. Not sure where they’d go in such a get-up. He didn’t even own a suit that fit him anymore. Mom usually kept him supplied, but Pop had distracted her from her usual fawning about his clothes. He’d gained some bulk in his shoulders and chest. There was no way the last suit coat would fit now.

  His flip phone sounded from his bedroom. He rose to fetch it.

  A voicemail from Joni. Naw, really Hoge, worried about him. Had she really asked if he’d made it home? Like he was some lost boy.

  He typed back a thumbs up, striving to press the right keys. With a sigh, he cleared the smiley face and got it in correctly. Thank goodness for visual icons and symbols.

  So Hoge and Joni were back to checking on him all the time? Was he back in high school? He snapped the phone closed and took a breath, settling himself on the edge of the bed. Sure did appear a good time for praying. He sat in the dark and poured his heart out to his Savior and then lay down and fell into a deep sleep.

  ***

  Stormi avoided the bench at the dock for a week. Since the weather was positively frigid, she knew she wouldn’t be missed. Still, pacing the thirty by thirty foot enclosure nearly drove her insane. Her legs froze mid-stroke. It was official. She had no life.

  Her phone buzzed. An unfamiliar number popped up. Important, or no? Always the main question. With a sigh she pressed the green button.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Ray.”

  Ray. Ray? Ray who? Realization dawned like a polar plunge. Drop-dead gorgeous, Motor-head Ray who basically blackmailed her into a date. That Ray. She lifted a finger gun to her temple and pulled the thumb trigger. She’d lost Russian roulette of the unknown number.

  “Uh, yeah. What’s up?”

  “Been thinking about you.”

  Adding double corn-syrup sweetness to the words only made her roll her eyes. Hadn’t she already granted him his one mercy date? “That right?”

  “I’ve been wondering what you’ve been up to?”

  Oh, the games people play. Devilish horns pricked at her skull. “Actually, I’m trying to insulate my house.”

  Silence thundered. Take that, you nosy mechanic.

  “You personally? You’re insulating your house?”

  “Sorta. This place is cold.”

  “Hmmm. You ought to call Harner’s Construction. They can throw that up quick.”

  She flopped on her new couch and thoughts of Ake getting wind of her piecing out his job walloped her. This wasn’t fair. He’d started the project, and she was just being a shrew by using it to shut this rake up.

  “But, you know. I’m handy around a car. I’m sure I can figure out a little insulation, as long as it’s not too major.”

  She sat up in horror and gave a nervous laugh. “Just kidding. Really. It’s all under control.”

  “Well, hey. I’m here for you. We can do that or club hop. Your choice.”

  What? When had this become an either–or situation? Cramps shot through her stomach, and she cringed as she spoke. “No, really. I’ve got a man on it.”

  A superior laugh. “Then you’re free to go out.”

  “Uh…“ Tell him. Tell him you’d rather strip wallpaper with your teeth from the top rung of a second story ladder. Tell him you’d rather clean an airport floor with a Q-tip balanced in your left ear. Tell him something. Anything.

  “Really, it’s not—well, I’m just not the club-hopping girl—”

  “Great. Let’s do this insulation thing.”

  Stormi swallowed. In the proverbial corner. “We can go out—”

  “All right. Now you are talking. Saturday?”

  Amidst the bile gathering at the back of her throat, she listened as he made arrangements for their second date. This couldn’t be happening. Why had she been so cavalier? Where had all her familiar finagling gone? He rang off and she buried her head in the couch. She’d lost that nasty edge that had always given her an advantage, but had always left her in the emotional gutter in the end. As a new creature in Christ, she had a new take on life.

  Only, she’d not been honest. And now it stabbed her in the back. Ake. What would he think? Tears bit her eyes. She knew exactly what he’d think. He’d be crushed. Pressing her head into the crevice of the cushions, she prayed with all her soul for a solution.

  ***

  Ake wondered how the smell of pine filled the church even though all the greenery was fake. Yet it did. The poinsettia’s bright red colors in front of the preacher’s podium completed the Christmas colors through the church. It felt odd to sit on the back left side while his parents and Hoge’s family sat in their usual spot six rows back from the front on the right. But this is where Stormi had sat when she’d arrived. Like a dummy, he’d failed to offer a ride. No wonder everyone called him that.

  Still, he belted out “Amazing Grace” with added force this morning, pleased Stormi stood beside him clutching the hymnal. Her hair had an added whip of spikiness today, giving her an extra bit of sassiness to her look. It made him want to stand and grin at her. Any minute he expected her to reveal her blue translucent fairy wings and soar above his head, stroking the hanging greens.

  Instead, her knuckles turned white from the force of the heavy book. He reached over and supported it. She shot him a stiff mouth twitch, which he supposed was a smile. Hard to tell. She sure was strung tight this morning. They sat, and she fidgeted with the long navy skirt and then proceeded to yank at her sleeves. He laced his fingers in his lap to resist the urge to stretch an arm on the pew behind her. As tense as she was, she might just explode.

  He trained his gaze on the pastor and tried to ignore the sense of elated pleasure that swelled his shoulders. After all, this was about God, not about the gorgeous woman at his side. Stormi opened her tiny Bible and searched for th
e passage. Ake stretched his neck, hoping she wouldn’t attempt to share. She didn’t and he breathed a sigh of relief.

  When the service ended, Ake stood and didn’t miss the optic arrows Hoge shot at him. He shrugged and exited the pew to let Stormi out. The woman seemed bound for glory and in a right hurry. He strode behind her. She slipped by the pastor, who hadn’t quite set up his usual vigil at the door, and Ake lowered his head to follow. A hand flopped on his shoulder.

  “How’s it going?” Deacon Frank Harper shot out a wrinkled meaty hand.

  Good ’ole Frank. Always had a piece of gum for the kids. Yet right now, Ake wasn’t much of a mood to yak at him.

  “I’m fine, Frank. Hope you’re the same. I gotta scoot now, though. Excuse me.”

  Once out in the cold, he turned toward the parking lot in time to see Stormi’s little Saturn shoot out of the lot. Huh. He shoved his hands into his pockets and set out to his truck. Seemed odd he hadn’t seen her in a couple of weeks. He’d have thought if nothing else, she’d have wanted him to complete the insulation project they’d started. Or at least that was the excuse he’d planned on using.

  The truck spun out of the lot, and a twinge of guilt settled on his shoulders. He looked into the rear view mirror, hoping Hoge didn’t stand on the sidewalk with his hands out. Thankfully, just several members made their way to their cars.

  He cut through town and made it to her place in a matter of minutes. Her driveway was empty, but he parked there anyway. After a couple of minutes, her tiny beige car pulled in beside him. He jumped out.

  “Hey, you were in a hurry, huh?” He grinned as she swung from the car.

  She shrugged. “Not really.”

  He stepped back to allow her to pass, and she hustled by gripping the strap of her leather purse. A car pulled up behind their two vehicles and she stopped fleeing. If that was what she was doing. Sure did appear that way. Ray Newhouse jogged toward them in a sleek leather jacket.

  “Stormi. I was hoping to catch you.” Ray slowed and a slow grin crossed his face. “Hello there, Dummy. I haven’t seen you in ages. How’s it hanging?

  Ake’s smile faded. “Yeah, fine. It’s been awhile.”