The Secret Storm

by Peggy Trotter

  Outside, he caught up with her in front of the church which was relatively quiet compared to the somber parade inside. “Where are you going?”

  She paused on the sidewalk when she caught sight of him and gave a small wave. “Hey. I don’t know. Just here and there.”

  “Come inside with me.”

  She shook her head and tightened her arms around herself, wrapped in that close-fitting coat. “No. I just don’t think that’s wise.”

  “Why?”

  Her response was a shrug.

  “I need you next to me, Stormi.”

  Her head came up and her eyes searched his. “Okay. As long as I don’t have to stay a long time.”

  She meandered up the sidewalk and paused beside him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Her body shook with shivers. At least he could get her inside to warm up.

  ***

  Stormi steadied herself on the four-inch heels. Her footwear was a bust. Why hadn’t she thrown out the old reminders of her B.C. life? Before Christ. Two hundred dollar boots that apparently had beds of nails for soles. Or perhaps the torture was magnified by the stares of everyone who entered the building. How many whispers had she witnessed while the participants’ eyes flicked to her. Gee, it was not a mystery what their hushed tones were discussing.

  Yet, Ake’s arm draping her shoulders seemed to lessen the rawness of her heart. What a loser she was. She was supposed to be comforting him, and it seemed a little reversed. With a jaw strung tight with determination, she followed Ake as he threaded his way back through the mourners’ line, her hand firmly gripped in his. She kept her eyes on the aging carpet.

  He set up shop at the end of the family’s line, earning a stray killing glance from Hoge. She inhaled a lungful of courage and allowed an elderly woman to embrace her, the old-lady perfume settling around her like the smell of death. She swallowed as the woman held on too long and then leaned back a bit to question who she was. Ugh. Thankfully Ake stepped in, but the flare of surprise on the woman’s face at the mention of their wedding sent Stormi’s sense of ease dropping to her numb feet.

  That started a stream of well-wishers behind who were, of course, deeply saddened by the death of Ake’s mom, but thrilled with the impromptu wedding. Intense discomfort swelled inside her into a huge blimp of pressure. She glanced to the line that still continued out the sanctuary doors. Kill me. Kill me, now. She manufactured another smile and shook another set of wrinkled hands.

  Ake nodded to the new arrival, a kind patient smile across his face. How did he do it? The man was a saint. She forced the bile that gathered at the back of her throat down her gullet. Oh, she would so do this. Even if she had to crush every molar in her jaw with the effort. She could do this for Ake. Sweet, gentle Ake. She wrapped her arm around his and he looked down at her.

  The sadness there made her catch her breath. Then, it dispelled a bit when he gave a small crooked smile. Yes. She could endure it for him. It was the least she could do.

  Another couple stepped away, and Ake leaned down to whisper in her ear. “My shoes are killing me.”

  Stormi flung a fist to her mouth before any rude noise could burst forth. She turned to whisper back in the hollow of his neck. “Mine, too.”

  The small quirky grin he shot her cut through the morose expression on his face, and a bubble of pleasure percolated in her heart. Alan had texted her how crazy she was for committing to a man simply to assuage her conscience, but she didn’t care. But then, he didn’t understand how special Ake was.

  Her face lost some of its brightness. Special. No. Exceptional. If Alan could only meet him, he would understand his adorable straight-forwardness, his untarnished soul. The man was the purest example of what a true Christian should be, and she wanted to bask in it, become like it, and be as unselfish as this man really was.

  Her eyes left his and came to rest on none other than Miss Rah-Rah from the courthouse and a tall, handsome blond man. Yowza, extremely attractive and striking in a teal dress shirt. She pulled her attention from him and tried to plant a welcoming smile on her face as she latched onto Avery’s bluebell eyes. But she cut her gaze back to Ake.

  The little floozy leaned in and gave him a much too-long hug, and then shot Stormi a look as she pulled out but addressed Ake. “Sorry about your mom, Ake. She was a sweet lady.”

  Ake nodded. “Thanks for coming.”

  “This is Lance, my husband.”

  Had Miss Guttlebag slung her chin at her? The nerve. Stormi pushed it aside and nodded to the knock-out blond. “Nice to meet you.”

  He gave her the once over, flicking an interested brow. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

  Really? Stormi pulled a tight smile, shook both of their hands, and then studied them as they walked away. Wow, he was a player. But she’d let her mind digress and was hugged off-guard by yet another blue-haired woman.

  Thus the line marched through like a collection of toy soldiers. One by one, Stormi weathered each awkward acquaintance of Ake and his family. At five the funeral began, and though she hadn’t known the woman well, it proved difficult to keep her tears in check.

  Saints preserved, she ended up in the limo with Hoge’s family. The two seats faced one another, she nestled against Ake with Lucy and Pop on one side. Hoge, Joni and the three boys sat squashed in the rear-facing seats. How cozy.

  She fixed her thoughts on inventing pairs of words that described the atmosphere of the car. Oppressive, yet glacial. Abrasive but soothing. Noiseless yet deafening with resentment. Was it just her imagination? She sat stiffly against Ake, her hand in both of his in his lap.

  He leaned over. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Stormi dared to look up. Hoge’s gaze stayed firmly on the fogged glass, but Joni’s rested on her with a mediocre amount of—what? Tolerance? Gratitude? Perhaps it was just apathy misinterpreted. But Lucy drew her attention by laying her head against her arm.

  The sky spat snow for the vigil on the frozen ground beside the yawning earth hole. The pastor yammered some Bible verses about eternal life, added in some ashes to ashes, and meandered into a monologue.

  The surrounding grief snarled her thoughts to the point that all Stormi could do was breathe the same prayer over and over. “Dear God, comfort them. Please comfort them.”

  It seemed a pitiful effort, her lips freezing as she murmured the words in cadence like an annoying car alarm in her head. Why couldn’t she be of more help? What did one do in such instances to ease the sorrow that throbbed beneath the open tent? Lucy clutched at her sniffling mother, the three boys stoic as gargoyles, and Hoge like a face poster of misery. And poor Pop, clueless to all, looking about one moment, still as a tree another.

  Ake drew her closer beneath his thick arm, his own breath repeating the Lord’s prayer. Stormi leaned her head against his chest. Life was fleeting. So intensely short. She had to make the most of it. Be there for Ake.

  And she would. Lord willing, she would.

  ***

  “Then we’ll put the flower vases here on the large white pedestals.” Joni swept her arms in an arc, her face animated. “The tulle will sweep down here and be gathered at each pew. We could set a glass-encased candle encircled by the flowers of your choice on the arms. We could turn the lights low for a romantic feel.”

  Stormi eased herself down into an empty pew covered with a lilac padding. How lucky was that? She actually was allowed to choose her own flowers.

  “Now, behind the pastor, I know we have lattice panels that we could cover with white lights and more tulle. Periwinkle bachelor buttons could be inserted in the swaths at the top.

  Oh, never mind. Flowers were chosen. She worked very hard to keep her face at an impasse. Ake stood nearby, rubbing his bristled chin as if he were really trying to picture it. Then he glanced toward her. She averted her eyes.

  “Pastor said he has an opening in late May.”

  Ake jerked up. “May? That’s two months away.”

  Joni hesita
ted and then gave a little chuckle. “Well, yeah. I mean, you can’t organize all this in just a week. We haven’t even begun to discuss the catering and decorating the family center.”

  Hoge sat stiff in the front pew, silent as a prowling lion. Stormi let her eyes settle on the back of his head before allowing her gaze to travel over the huge, empty sanctuary. She could hear the kids’ voices and squeals from the gym down the hall. Ake crossed his arms and struck a wide stance.

  “You have to understand that a wedding is like a dream come true, Ake.” Joni approached him and laid her hand on his thick forearm. “You men just don’t understand how important this is to a woman.

  Glory Hallelujah. Stormi clenched her teeth. This whole shebang was totally out of hand. Why had she agreed to have Joni help? A twitch started in her cheek. Because Joni had shamed her for leaving the entire church out of the festivities. And now—she was stuck.

  “What do you think, Stormi?”

  She caught her breath and then cleared her throat. “All good ideas. I think maybe Ake and I just need to discuss some things.”

  Did that sound non-committal enough? Joni smiled and clenched her hands under her chin. Ah, score. Stormi rose and meandered to the double exit doors. Thank her, just thank her and keep walking. Young footsteps came thundering down the hall.

  “Mom, Crew stole my ball and won’t give it back.” Lucy wiped a tear from her reddened face.

  Perfect. A distraction.

  Joni strode to the door. “I don’t know why you kids just can’t get along for ten minutes.”

  Lucy scrambled behind her as she disappeared from the sanctuary.

  Stormi motioned Ake over. She couldn’t help but notice old hardhead’s frozen stance, gaze still fixed on the front wall.

  “I need to get home. I have some work I need to do.”

  He nodded, shooting a glance at the silent man behind them on the front pew. “Okay. Hey, Hoge we’re going to take off.”

  The only movement to show Hoge heard his brother’s words was a simple back-hand wave.

  “Tell Joni, all right?”

  Another wave. Unenthusiastic at that. Bleh. Stormi rolled her eyes. First Joni planned a ten thousand dollar wedding and now Hoge’s consistent disapproval. What a drain. Marrying Ake on the funeral day couldn’t have seemed more wonky than this. She tightened her arms across her chest as Ake guided her out the door with gentle hands. He opened the door of the truck, and she slipped in, stamping down more guilt for leaving without letting Joni know.

  He revved up the engine without a pause and backed out of the space. Maybe Ake sensed the strained atmosphere as well. He pulled up into her driveway a short time later and threw the gearshift into park. They sat in the dark for several moments, staring forward at the black, silhouetted trees.

  His voice came softly. “Are you mad?”

  She took a deep breath. Spewing at Ake wouldn’t accomplish anything. “No.”

  He straightened his arms against the top of the steering wheel and then dropped them. “What do you think of all that?”

  Stormi grabbed the hank of bangs and twirled it. “Honestly?”

  His hand came up and untangled hers from her hair. She shifted her gaze to his dark eyes, lit by the light of the moon. “Yes.”

  She dropped her gaze to his big hand wrapped around hers. With an inhale she collided glances with his again. “What do you think?”

  He shrugged. “Seems like a lot of stuff.”

  Relief coursed through her. “Yes. Way too much stuff.”

  He tilted his head and caressed the palm of her hand. “It’d be easier to go to the courthouse.”

  “I agree.” Hope rose in her chest. “But what about your church members? Joni said they’d be crushed if we didn’t have a big wedding and reception.”

  He shrugged. “I think that’s up to you.”

  She jerked her hand away and held them up. “Oh, no. No, no. I’m not going to break the hearts of all your faithful church friends.”

  “They’ll get over it.” A smile tugged at his mouth.

  She bugged her eyes out at him. “Ake Pearson. Ugh. I don’t even know your middle name to scold you.”

  “Aiken Ellings Pearson.”

  “Ellings? That’s unusual. I like it.”

  He shrugged and looked away. “It was my original last name.”

  “Oh. That’s right. You said you were adopted.”

  His “uh-huh” shut off the conversation. “How ’bout we just get up in the morning and get married at the courthouse?”

  Her audible gasp drew Ake’s attention. He elevated one thick brow.

  She unfastened her seatbelt and scooted over by him and thrust her face close to his. “Are you serious?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  For some reason, Ake could not help but kiss her. His gentle peck put a curve of appreciation on her cheek. He wasn’t sure if she smiled from the short kiss or from the thought of marrying him pronto, sans Joni’s fancy wedding ideas.

  “You sure you want to bypass all that decorating stuff? Joni seemed to think you women thought it pretty important.”

  An unladylike snicker burst from her. “Do you want to know my mother’s wedding advice?”

  “Sure.”

  “‘Don’t get married. It ruins your life.’” She sat back and tucked her arms into an angry knot. “Trust me, I didn’t run around dreaming of getting married.”

  They sat for a few moments without a sound. Ake had no earthly clue how to follow up that little revelation, so he chose to say nothing. He could feel her body relax alongside him as the pent up stress of her childhood melted back into the nether land of lost time.

  “Ake?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you sure you want to marry a sleaze like me?”

  He threw an arm around her and snugged her close. With a long inhale, he pressed a long kiss to her forehead. Then he murmured, “Don’t ever say that, Stormi. You’re a child of God.”

  “It doesn’t feel like it. It feels…”

  “It doesn’t matter what it feels like. Believe it. All those sins are gone. Gone.”

  She became pliant under his arm, and he decided he ought to get her inside. Stormi all soft and vulnerable often maxed out his self-control. He adjusted himself and pulled his arm free. The sound she gave let him know she wasn’t pleased with the arrangement. “Where do we stand on the tomorrow thing?”

  She leaned against him so he clutched the handle to pop the door open. He helped her climb down from the driver’s side and then escorted her to the entry. He paused while she searched for the keys to the door.

  “Stormi? Tomorrow?”

  She stood under the outside light and looked up at him. “Yes. Pick me up at nine o’clock. Maybe that will give everyone time to be where they’re supposed to be.” She inserted the key and turned the lock, froze, and glanced back at him. “And tomorrow’s Friday. We could leave town for a few days.”

  He twisted his lips in a side grin. “Sounds good.”

  One of her fingers appeared in front of his face. “And, we can avoid your brother for the first forty-eight hours. Gives us a better chance of still being alive on Monday.”

  A laugh bounced from him. “Don’t worry over Hoge. Joni has a way.”

  “But you forget that we’re spurning her wedding plans. She might turn against us.” She sported a huge grin.

  With a shrug, he gathered her in his arms. Didn’t she know he’d weather a hurricane for her? Hoge and Joni were pretty low on his list of importance right now. Besides, this disagreement was just a simple tropical storm. Either way, they’d survive it together. After a good long kiss, he let her go.

  “Want to come in?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. From the heat generated in that smooch, not a good idea. “Naw. How ’bout I just see ya at nine tomorrow?”

  She nodded and stood on tiptoe to peck his bristled cheek. “Okay. Maybe shave before the big event? I do love me
some smooth cheeks.”

  His lips twitched. He’d shave his whole body if she wanted, and that’d be quite a task. “Sure, Beautiful. Whatever you say.”

  With a coquettish swing of her hips, she slipped through the door and peeked back out. “I like the sound of that. Good night, Ake.”

  “Night.”

  He jaunted to the truck to the sound of her dead-bolt sliding home. Yep. Liable to be a good warm front going through the area with his wife permanently settled in town. Old Man Winter didn’t have a chance with her red-hot looks and his passion. No, indeed.

  ***

  Stormi had no sooner locked the door than her phone beeped a text message. Alan—again. This marriage thing didn’t set well with her Christian friend. It bothered her a tad, but not enough to call it off. She knew this was the right thing. Marrying Ake would completely sponge away the guilt she harbored in her heart about this whole fake relationship thing. She glanced down.

  What’s up?

  She rolled her eyes heavenward. Code for, “are you still getting married?” Fine. She’d play the around-the-mulberry-bush game. Nothing. U?

  Reading.

  Gr8.

  Plans on schedule?

  Bingo. There it was. Yelp.

  Not cool.

  She rolled her eyes. Srry. Gonna happen.

  You need time.

  4 what? She clunked the phone on the counter and went to pull a water bottle from the fridge. By the time she’d turned back, her phone blinked again.

  Pray, read, get to know him.

  She gave an impatient sigh. He ought to be happy she was marrying a Christian instead of some nutsy, abusive heathen or something. Her thumbs flew over the keyboard. Already have.

  A yawn took over as she meandered to the couch and sat down. The phone flashed again. My, this could be a long convo.

  Not enough time. U don’t love him.

  And that made a difference? So she didn’t romantically love him. She still loved him. Alan seemed quite obtuse about the whole arrangement. It was perfect for her. She’d probably never find anyone more special—scratch—unique as Ake Pearson. She admired his wholesomeness. What better person to spend a life with?