Thankfully his father appeared satisfied and allowed Ake to escort him down the hall. Once his pop was engaged, he strode toward the kitchen. Oatmeal. Always oatmeal.
The lumpy liquid congealed into a clear goo. He sucked in a sharp breath. Stormi’s exact description. Never was that woman far from his thoughts. He grunted as Pop sat at the table. He was fooling himself. Not one second had gone by when that gorgeous pixie hadn’t occupied his brain. If only—nope. Door closed.
He grabbed a soup bowl from the cabinet and filled it with the hot cereal. He carried it to the table with a spoon and set it before his father. A knock sounded at the back door. Good. Cindy had arrived.
“Good morning. Hello, Ake. How are you today, Mr. Pearson?”
Pop rose and shuffled from the room still chewing the last spoonful of oatmeal. Not much of a greeting.
“Sorry, Cindy. He seems fine.” He pulled the bowl from the table and dumped it into the sink.
She flopped her coat on the chair and waved a hand. “Nah. This is how it is with Alzheimer’s patients. No biggie. Fishing today?”
Definitely. “Yep.”
“Anything I need to know today?”
“The usual.”
“Okay, well, I’ll get your father dressed and ready for the day. Perhaps we’ll go for a drive.”
He nodded but stared at his house down the slope. He couldn’t face her. He couldn’t even listen to her voicemail. In his frustration, he’d deleted it. Why listen to her excuses? His heart barely functioned now.
Cindy disappeared down the hall, humming. Ake paused a moment and then followed her, cutting into his old bedroom. The door slid shut soundlessly. Mom had never totally cleaned out his closet. Surely he could find something suitable for work today.
The smell of mothballs itched at his nose as he rummaged through the old clothing. Most of these were remnants from high school. Too many bowls of Mom’s clam chowder would insure he’d never be able to use any of these again. He grabbed yesterday’s clothes from the bed. Dirty was better than looking Stormi eye to eye.
He dressed in double time and headed out the door. At the dock, loading ice onto the boats and prepping the motor and nets helped pull his mind from the tragedy that had become his life. Hoge dumped the last shovelful of ice into the hold and clenched him in a stare.
“What are you wearing?”
Ake shrugged.
But he didn’t stop. “Isn’t that your regular coat? Where’s your canvas?”
Silence seemed the best choice. He stepped to the deck and headed to where they kept the extra raingear. At least he’d be dry. He shrugged on the thick oily jacket that smelled like rotten mackerel. No matter.
Hoge stepped into the close space. “Answer me.”
“I forgot it.” Lies came tough to Ake’s tongue.
His brother’s rugged hand gripped his collar. They locked eyes. “What’s going on?”
Ake locked his jaw against the truth. Years of being burnt by his blurts had finally paid off.
Hoge’s blue eyes narrowed. “It’s her, isn’t it?”
He managed to control everything but the twitch under his left eye.
His brother growled and the thick mitt clamped to his collar shook him. “I told you, Dummy. She’s worthless.”
“Stop.”
“Dagnabbit, Ake. I told you she was trouble—”
Ake shoved his brother away. Clarity froze Hoge’s face. He knew. Ake shoved his hands into the borrowed slicker and spun.
***
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Stormi greeted.
Marla staggered into the living room wearing borrowed pj’s. Stormi sat flicking through a magazine. Thankfully her friend’s arrival had broken her train of thoughts of where Ake could possibly be.
“Morning.” Marla’s voice sounded much like the tires against gravel.
Her friend balled up in an armchair against the wall and rubbed the blond hair from her face. “So, where’s the hubs? Shouldn’t he be pummeling me by now?”
Stormi let out a low hum. She wished she did know where Ake was. She’d left a voice mail on his phone after several attempts to reach him. But that was none of Marla’s business. Better to avoid. “Do you remember anything from last night?”
A somber mood rippled over her face. Today, in the mid-morning light, her face looked young, fresh. Except for her eyes. “Every detail.”
Doubtful. “Like?”
Marla’s face tightened. “I owe you a huge thanks, Stormi. I treated you like pus, and you were there when I needed you most.”
Not the detail she was most concerned with. Stormi shrugged. “And?”
“I’m trying to say sorry, okay?”
She nodded.
Marla jerked up and grabbed a comfy throw from the couch. “I’m freezing.”
Stormi dropped her gaze and flicked a page. Not sure why. She hadn’t looked at the previous one.
“Okay, we’ll talk about the huge gray elephant in the room. I’m a Christian now.” Marla pulled the blanket up under her chin. “Whatever that entails, I’ve no idea.”
“Marla…that’s not exactly—”
“Don’t worry, Stormi. I’m aware.” She took a deep breath. “My sister’s been trying to get to me for years. Used to drag me to church as a kid, remember?”
A smile tugged at Stormi’s mouth. “Yeah.”
Marla gave a deep sigh. “I understand now why you changed. Before, I thought you were faking, trying to squeeze me out, trying to ruin our fun.”
A tear dripped from Marla’s eye.
Sadness welled in Stormi’s gut. “Only it wasn’t really that fun.”
Marla’s hand closed around her throat. “No.”
They sat for a long time without speaking. Unpleasant memories washed over Stormi. How easily they could take over. She spoke to stifle their power. “What are you thinking?”
“I need to retrieve my car from Boston. The earlier the better. Then I need to go to my sister’s.”
Stormi nodded. Excellent. Tasks to occupy her mind. And Marla remembered. And understood. And was saved. Praise Jesus.
***
Cramps started just as Stormi tugged on the gearshift of her old Saturn. She pushed it from her mind. Marla needed her. It was just stress. The baby, Hoge, Ake, everything. Only, the last week the pains had seemed to double. Once she worked everything out with Ake, they would ease.
Marla chugged milk and dug out her every misdeed since she’d turned six. It was as if she had to get it all out of her system before she could truly embrace a new way of living. Stormi didn’t care except for the queasiness that seemed to clench her belly.
By the time they’d reached Marla’s car at a hotel parking lot, she felt positively ill. But she tightened her jaw, determined to see this through.
Marla hugged her and cried on her shoulder. “Thank you. I wish I could do more than that, Stormi.”
“Don’t be silly. We’ll always be friends. More so now. More than ever.”
Marla gave her a watery smile and hopped into the car. Thank goodness Marla had ridden with someone else to the horrible apartment last night. Pain spiraled through her, and she pressed a hand to her stomach. Marla waved as she drove away.
Nausea rolled up her throat. She shut her door and stumbled toward the front of the hotel. The pain in her lower back had become unbearable. She’d reached the foyer when she realized the unwanted warmth. She hiked towards the counter. She needed a restroom. Yet when she arrived at the granite countertop, she could only breathe a quick command. “Call an ambulance.”
Everything spiked to a surreal level as she slid down the front of the check-in counter. Lots of panicked voices floated above her. Then sirens. She should get up. If only she could reach her car, she was sure she could drive home.
A man appeared and blocked the hotel ceiling. He was dressed in a uniform. My, what a fuss she was creating. She tried to concentrate on the words the man spoke. “I’m Curt. We’re pr
eparing to transport you to the hospital. Can you tell me where it hurts?”
“My stomach and my back. I’m so…lightheaded.”
“Uh huh. Let’s get her on the gurney.”
He faded from view as a cramp choked her uterus. “The baby.”
The EMT reappeared. “Are you pregnant?”
“Yes.” A sob wrestled up her esophagus.
He continued to barrage her with questions as she glided out into the sunlight and into the ambulance.
The crash of the vehicle doors closing made her jerk. She reached out and yanked on the man’s blue shirt as he sat beside her.
“It’s okay. We’ll get you checked out.”
“Ake.”
His dark brows descended. “More pain?”
She shook her head. “No, my husband.”
He took the phone number she chanted through the pain. Blackness threatened to take her from consciousness. God, no. She couldn’t lose this baby. She just couldn’t.
The wail of the siren and the crushing pain took all her concentration, and she shut her eyes. How would they ever contact Ake? Pain escalated and she cried out. Then lights careening, needles, smells, and more contractions. Then blood. Everywhere.
“God, oh, God,” was all she could mutter as the pain meds kicked in, and the doors of her consciousness slammed closed.
***
She awoke with a cry. The baby was gone. She knew it before she knew reality. The chrome safety rail reflected her warped eyes back to her. Very fitting. She wondered vaguely if she could raid the morphine cabinet and knock herself out until the deadness eased in her soul.
A blue uniformed being appeared in the corner of her eye and paused at the machine that repeated the same beep over and over. Undoubtedly, it was broken. Her heart no longer beat.
“There you are. Hello, Mrs. Pearson. You’re at Portsmith Regional Hospital. How are you feeling?”
“Is my baby dead?”
The long pause was as good as an answer. Stormi closed her eyes.
“Ma’am. I’m sure the doctor will be in to talk to you soon. Your husband’s on the way.
“Ake?”
“Mr. Pearson, yes ma’am.”
The woman reached and adjusted the IV loop that lay plastered against her skin, tugging every hair. Stormi grabbed the nurse’s hand. “Tell me.”
The thick dark-skinned nurse pursed her full lips. “I’m sorry ma’am. Yes.”
She nodded against the pillow. Why had she needed confirmation? The emptiness in her belly had been like a storm horn blaring. Moisture filled her eyes.
The nurse patted her arm. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Put me out.”
The woman’s cheeks tightened. “I’ll check your chart.”
She disappeared through a soundless door that closed on sloth feet. The white curtain hung lifeless after a slight ripple in the nurse’s trail. Stormi closed her eyes.
She must have dozed off into a dark world for she came to consciousness when the curtain moved again. Ake sat in the puke green hospital recliner near the bed. His black eyes held a universe of sorrow. She pressed her lids closed. His warm hand landed on her arm. But she couldn’t look at him.
“I lost the baby.”
“I know.”
She lay for a long time, eyes closed. Her throat’s muscles twitched convulsively, and she gnawed her lips raw. Each breath proved a huge hurdle. Wouldn’t healing come with each passing second? Every moment? Surely. God—
No prayer came.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ake took great care to help Stormi into the truck. The woman appeared a mere shadow of the person she had been. Dark circles rimmed her eyes. She barely spoke. Her head hung as he tucked a blanket around her in the truck seat. As devastating as this had been for him, it seemed to have nearly killed her.
Silence rode with them the whole way. Knowing what to do proved a great challenge to Ake. Talking seemed trite, touching was repelled. That left stillness which sucked the oxygen from the interior.
Once home he helped her from the truck, but she pulled away and staggered to the front door. Stormi toddled straight to the bed, leaving Ake to trail her, her hospital paraphernalia and purse in his arms. Before he could reach the bedroom door, it shut in his face. He sighed and stored the articles in the extra room.
He wandered back to the living room to collapse on the couch. Hoge didn’t even know what had happened. How could he tell him when the man didn’t even know they’d been expecting. He rubbed the back of his aching neck. His brother would be at the top of the hill caring for Pop. He oughta go and explain he supposed.
Instead, early shadows obscured the room and closed out the day while he sat motionless.
Ake awoke to the sound of an interior door. He moaned as he sat up on the couch. In his exhaustion, he’d spent the entire night in the living room. It was still dark, yet he sensed it was his usual time to head to the wharf. Not today. Stormi needed him. Somehow he’d weather Hoge’s anger for not coming in. He rose and headed for the hallway, only to nearly collide with his wife. “Good morning. Sorry.”
“Why are you here?”
Not the response he’d hoped for. “I’m staying home.”
“Why?”
The gloom of the room made it impossible to see her expression. Her voice seemed robotic. He ran his fingers down her arm. She stepped away.
“Stormi, you need someone—”
“No. I don’t” Her shadowy form continued to the kitchen. “I’m tossing back more drugs and returning to bed.”
He stood for a long moment, watching her open the fridge door for a nightlight and then fill a glass with water. She shook the pill bottle before sticking it into the appliance to check the label. She threw her head back, shut the door, and shuffled toward him. He didn’t dare touch her.
“Go to work, Ake.”
Sadness gully washed his gut when the bedroom door clicked closed. It would be real helpful about now to talk to Mom. He headed for the laundry room for the clean clothes folded on the dryer. In two shakes he was dressed. He scraped a hand through his hair and headed for his truck in the garage.
He drove slowly while he prayed. Things sure seemed to go downhill right quick. With some hesitation, he pulled into the parking lot across from the dock. Was there any point in staying home? Better to throw himself into normalcy and seal his eyes on the horizon to pray the day away.
Too late to stop by and ask Joni to check on her or make arrangements to pick up Stormi’s car. His wife would probably sleep all day any way. What they needed to do was talk. He heard guys discuss the old marriage communication card, but he’d never realized how important it really was. Talking wasn’t a thing that came naturally to Ake by any case. And most of the time, that worked well for him.
He shoved it from his mind. Better to focus on keeping Hoge out of his face.
***
“I said, go now.”
Ake narrowed his eyes at his brother. Never once in his life had he gone to collect a marine battery they didn’t need until later. If it were really necessary, why hadn’t Lester delivered it like he always did? He shrugged. At least it was fewer hours to sit in the living room alone while Stormi barricaded herself in the bedroom like she had for the last week.
“Fine.” He pivoted and strode toward the truck. The tight feeling in his chest bordered on anger. Not his usual companion. He yanked the door shut with a little too much force. Two hours of driving listening to his own thoughts didn’t sound good. He pushed the Simon and Garfunkel CD into the drive. Their bittersweet tones of unfulfilled dreams and romance fit right in to his mindset.
He grabbed the phone, remorse filling him as he thought of her message he’d deleted. She might not answer, but at least he needed to let her know of his detour.
***
Yep. Exactly. Fury heated her face. Stormi snatched her cell phone from the black puddle. As was life. Like an expensive electronic device
dropped in water. This is what she got for coming to her old apartment as soon as her car had been delivered home. Something about Ake’s place seemed to suffocate her. Already too many bad memories. Or maybe just one big one.
She shook the droplets from the case and hopped back into the vehicle. By the time she’d arrived at Ake’s, the screen was dead. Just too much symbolism. She let a curse slide through pursed lips and regretted it instantly. Even though, she was mad at God.
Once inside, she dumped the phone in a bag of rice. Nothing to do but wait. She made a bee line for the drugs. Last pill. As much as she craved to be asleep twenty-four/seven, she knew it was time to survive without meds. But not yet.
The pill descended down her throat like a bale of rusted barbed wire. No matter. In twenty minutes, it’d be, adios. Poor Ake. Alone again tonight. Somehow she would make it up to him, but not tonight.
The hammering continued. Grogginess clawed at Stormi’s struggle to come to consciousness. Again the jackhammer. She groaned and pulled to a sitting position on the side of the bed. Someone pounded on the front door again. It must be Ake. Had he lost his key? She glanced over at the clock. Six thirty-seven. She’d been out for four hours. More or less.
She rose with a wobble and rubbed her face down. The thumping started again as she gained the living room.
“I’m coming.” She yanked the door open.
Hoge in all his hugeness stood there. And he didn’t look happy. Big hairy deal.
“What?” she demanded, pretzeling her arms across her chest.
But Hoge wasn’t looking at her. He glanced around the shadowed room. “Who’s here?”
She growled. The man had picked the wrong day. “No one, you oaf.”
His huge mitt pushed the door open. She stepped aside as he marched in. Her mouth dropped when he continued down the hallway. Echoes of both doors opening down the hall met her ears. What nerve.
He arrived back at the end of the hall and shot blue bazookas at her. “It’s time for you to go.”
With a snort she spun to find the pill bottle. Too late she realized she’d taken her last one. She jammed the pill bottle on the counter and anchored her hands against the edge. “What do you want, Hoge?”
The Secret Storm Page 25
