The Secret Storm

by Peggy Trotter

  “It’s not about what I want. It’s about what Ake wants.”

  She turned from her hunkered position and froze behind the counter. Dizziness assailed her. “You’re not making sense.”

  “I’m making perfect sense.” His voice dropped to a dead calm. “Ake wants you gone.”

  Dread shakes set up camp in her chest. “Where’s Ake? I want to talk to him.”

  “He’s not coming. That’s why I’m here.”

  The shakes graduated into trembles. “What are you talking about?”

  “He can’t do it. Ake’s too soft. But I’m telling you, it’s time for you to leave.”

  Stormi fastened her hands on her shaking forearms. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Neither am I.”

  She swallowed a lump. “Ake—”

  “Isn’t gonna show. It’s just you and me. Get packing.”

  Something within Stormi crumbled. It was over. Hoge was just the final ax swing. Feeling more dead than alive, she tottered to her room on legs no stronger than toothpicks. Blindly she jammed most of her things into her three suitcases. Then sealed herself in the bathroom for one last moment of her ill-born marriage.

  When she emerged, Hoge had stowed her possessions in her car. Her mind closed in, squeezing out rational thought. Who was she kidding? There were no thoughts.

  She drove as long as she could before pulling into a large parking lot. The travel center had little business past two a.m. She climbed in the back seat and pulled a throw over her. Just a nap. A freaking nap. Oh, how she wished for those pills.

  Sleep came after much time. Not a restful kind. The sleep that barely shuts out the environs. Undoubtedly, she heard every truck enter and leave the lot. Every click of the gasoline nozzles had prodded her semi-consciousness. She roused around five, returned to the driver’s seat, and headed back out to the interstate.

  Destination: Narcissimville. She’d discovered something she’d never wanted to know. Dying without death was possible.

  Mother stood blocking the doorway to the house, a half smirk-half scowl scrunching her features. “I knew you’d be back. This is what you always do. You’re never there for me, but I have to accommodate you.”

  “Mother, my marriage is over. I lost a baby. Okay? Are you happy? I’m as miserable as you.”

  Stormi dragged her luggage behind her and to her unheated room. Mother would not come back there. And she needed a simple rubber room.

  “I knew it. I tell you, you take the cake. You never listen. I told you not to move that far away. But, nooooo. You never think of anyone but yourself.”

  Stormi let the slam of the door punctuate her mother’s last jab. Please let her have some card game to go to, or some stranger to pretend to help, while hating her own family. She slid the lock into place. Either way, she wasn’t coming in here.

  She grabbed the pilled blanket off the bed and huddled in the floor between the two twin beds. Her mother’s continued tirade faded into the background. Roiling anger collided with pure misery. Tears trickled down her face while she ground her jaw.

  How. Had. This. Happened?

  ***

  Ake kept his vigil by the back door. The house had been empty last night. Clothes were missing, Stormi’s phone lay in rice by the bedside. Had she left for good?

  Pop shuffled in, looking for lunch. The oatmeal was long gone. But Ake couldn’t focus on anything but the absence of his wife.

  “Where’s Mom?” The wheezy voice tugged him from his thoughts.

  Stress jabbed him. “She’s dead, Pop. Gone.”

  A look of surprise danced across Pop’s usual emotionless features. He headed for the hall with a plaintive cry. “Mom. Mom!”

  Ake palmed his forehead. Now why’d he do that? Getting Pop into a panic wouldn’t change a thing about Stormi.

  He stepped into the kitchen and tugged a frying pan from the draining tray. A quick grilled cheese sandwich would satisfy Pop. His father shuffled into the room and stared at him, face blank. One of the few perks of Alzheimer’s, he guessed. He quickly forgot wrongs. Ake couldn’t help but feel a little envious.

  Once he’d assembled the sandwich, added a few cooked apples and some chips, he herded his dad to the table. Then he pulled his flip phone from his coat pocket. He dialed a rarely used number.

  “Ake? What’s wrong?” Joni’s voice made him yearn for his mother’s voice.

  “Pop’s fine. It’s Stormi.”

  “What’s going on?”

  He took a deep breath. Could he dump it all on her over the phone? “Can you come to Pop’s? Without Hoge knowing?”

  A pause lit the line. “I’ll be right over.”

  Ake managed to get Pop to lie down for a nap before Joni arrived. Unfortunately, Joni brought a large shadow. Hoge.

  Joni shrugged when she met his eyes at the back door. “I tried, Ake. Really.”

  “What about the kids?”

  Joni trailed in, followed by his brother. She removed her scarf and coat and laid them across the chrome chairs. “Well, that’s the hitch. Linus is in charge. And since your brother had to come with me, we have limited time before the throw downs begin.”

  “They’ll be fine,” Hoge muttered as he lowered his bulk into a chair.

  Joni continued to stand and parked her hands on her hips. “Yes, well, we’ll see. Now, what’s up?”

  “You better sit.”

  Uncertainty lit her soft brown eyes. “Okay.”

  “Stormi was pregnant.”

  A gasp came from his sister-in-law. “Was?”

  Ake flexed his neck and chose to stand. “She lost the baby last week. The day I missed work.”

  Hoge’s eyes dropped.

  “Oh, Ake. I’m so sorry.” She brought a fist to her mouth. “Is she all right?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Joni’s brow knotted. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s disappeared.” Ake changed his mind and flopped into a chair.

  The room went silent.

  Joni’s mouth froze into an open cavern. “Like in gone?”

  He gave a short nod.

  “Oh, my.”

  Ake toyed with the idea of coming completely clean. Did they need to know he’d caught her in the arms of another man? He cleared his throat.

  Hoge growled. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

  Joni jerked her head to her husband. “Really? This is what you’re going to do? You can’t find a shred of compassion for your only brother?”

  “He’s better off without her.”

  Ake stood. “I need to go look for her.”

  “Of course. Hoge will stay with your dad.”

  “What?” Hoge spread his hands wide. “Not my turn.”

  Joni rose. “Tough. When you’re mean and unsupportive, you pull Pop duty.”

  Hoge harrumphed. “You’re just as unhappy about this marriage as I am.”

  Ake grabbed his coat and paused by the door. “Does it matter you both disapprove? She’s my wife, under God. I’m not giving up on her.”

  He tugged the door closed and marched down the hill. He would find her. One way or another, he would find her.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Ake’s resolve never wavered as he searched town. First, he started at her old apartment, then every downtown business. He scanned the parking lots and streets while asking random folks along the way. He had no shame in begging for information. Perhaps his many embarrassments as a kid had prepared him for this very moment.

  Next he drove to her college. This proved more difficult. He checked the building he’d brought her to in early winter, but no one even seemed to know her. The other buildings were much the same. He ended up at the administration building where he tried to pry information from the robotic receptionist. But all he could get was that wherever she was, she was still entering updated classes.

  He settled back in his old truck and pounded the steering wheel. Where could she be? He took a d
eep breath and sent a prayer heavenward, then pulled the shift into gear. New plan. He needed a map and a phone. Start in this county and gradually work his way outward. Eventually something had to turn up.

  He drove back to the house, went in, and tossed his keys on the counter. Time to get the map. He would find her. And bring her home.

  ***

  The question was, how long could she stay in this room without food and water? So far Stormi was on her second day, and her stomach clenched with hunger. But mostly thirst. Stormi clenched her teeth at her own weakness. A bathroom wouldn’t hurt either.

  She gazed out the window. The room wasn’t freezing, but chilled enough to make her shake. Fourteen cars had driven past since her arrival. Three dogs had meandered by, and one squirrel. She glanced at her computer on the floor. Just as well do another podcast and wait for Mother to leave the house. She laid a hand on her flat stomach and a wave of intense grief took her breath. Of all the things in the world, she couldn’t bear her mother’s self-righteous sneer this morning.

  Midway through her third podcast, the door slammed. She glanced through the blue satin curtains. Mother shouldered her big purse and swung into the car. Praise the Lord the old bomb started, and she drove off.

  She rose and stretched. Her body ached, her soul bled. At least she could move around. Stormi opened the door and entered the back porch. A gloomy day greeted her through the windows along the wall. She went through the closed door to the kitchen.

  The place was trashed like always. Table covered with dirty dishes, papers, napkins. More filthy dishes and pans crammed the sink and counters. Well, Mother was the same. With a deep sigh, she treaded to the tiny bathroom. Much the same in there. Floor filthy, hair-encrusted toilet, dingy scum circled the bathtub. Ugh.

  After washing her hands in the chipped sink, she made her way back to the kitchen. The least she could do was clean for her room and board. Then maybe she could find a bit of food not covered in roaches.

  She found some fairly fresh lunchmeat in the fridge and quickly stuffed it into her mouth. Then she tore into the dishes. Nothing like mindless chores to occupy one’s mind. She wondered vaguely how Marla was doing. Perhaps she’d dig out her number and use Mom’s landline phone.

  It took several hours to return the kitchen and bathroom back to an acceptable manner. And just about the time she gathered the last of the towels and inserted them into the washer, a car parked out front. Mother—perfect timing as always. She headed for her cold sanctuary at the back of the house.

  ***

  “You’re going to work today.”

  Hoge’s face was purplish-red and swollen. Why he’d bothered to come over proved a mystery. Ake wasn’t sure when he’d seen him this angry. He went back to his map spread across the coffee table and enclosed yet another area with a colored pencil. “No, I’m not.”

  “Blame it, Ake. Stop being an idiot. You’re not going to find her. She’s gone.”

  Ake chose to ignore him as he studied the map. The last week had been unfruitful, but that couldn’t last forever.

  “You’re just going to search the entire United States?”

  “Yep.” Ake expected an explosion, but Hoge merely strolled to the opposite side of the table and stood. At last, Ake looked up.

  “She left you, man. Get it through your head.”

  Sadness welled in Ake’s chest. His brother may have a point. Already he’d gone through how many tanks of gas. He’d have to slow the search. Besides, if he went to work, he’d calm Hoge and have more resources to search with. He folded the map. “All right. Let’s go to work.”

  Go to work, care for Pop, search for Stormi. Lifetime assignments.

  Fishing proved productive that spring. Summer continued to supply the Sea Wheats with plenty of catch. Relief washed over Ake as he threw the fish into the separate buckets. Good catch kept Hoge happy and off his tail. But a moment didn’t go by that he didn’t think of Stormi and pray for her.

  He supposed he should just go to the police station and declare her a missing person. But in his heart he knew she wasn’t. Missing, that is. She’d left. Pure and simple. He sucked the salty ocean air into his lungs as the deck lurched. But the why is what stuck in his craw. He couldn’t let her go, knowing the pain she’d suffered when they’d lost the baby. Her eyes had been so empty, so hopeless.

  Sure, his heart was still bruised after seeing her with another man. But he was sure if he could locate her, they could work through it. After all, he still loved her. Loved her with his whole being. Imagining life without her, well, he just couldn’t.

  Privately he scanned the local areas and drove from town to town to check. Best to keep Hoge out of the know. He stood to stretch his back and caught a sunrise beam of sunlight rippling across the shimmering waves. Yeah. Stormi was like that. Like a flash of light. Full of sunshine and energy. How he longed for her.

  He slumped over and grabbed a handful of fish. Letting the others see his mournful face only invited insults. Best to carry on. The deck leaped with hundreds of fish. Tomorrow would be the same. Meanwhile, he’d guard his heart and wait. The Lord was faithful.

  ***

  Stormi walked faster. The routine. Always follow the new routine. It kept her sane somehow. Moving out of Mother’s house had been the best thing since she’d married Ake. She sucked in a shuddering breath. Why? Why did she let his name in her head? It threw a perfect routine out the door.

  Get up. Walk. Drink orange juice. Podcast. Clean house. Shower. Read the paper. Drink a health shake. Wash clothes. Watch the news. Volunteer at the animal shelter. Fall exhausted into bed. Blink at ceiling for four hours. Rinse and repeat. Nowhere in that list was think about Ake. Nope.

  Sweat poured from her forehead. Too stinking hot to walk this long and this hard. A sob managed to trip up her throat, and she swallowed it. Everything was fine. All would come out in the wash. She neared her junky trailer, and depression washed over her like a tsunami. Who was she kidding? Trailer trash. That’s all she was.

  Anger clenched her jaw and moisture threatened. Oh, no. No, no. Not at this stage. She shoved the key into the weathered lock and thrust the door open. She slammed the door closed. Now, orange juice.

  Yet she stood, just inside the door surveying the dump of her furnished trailer. She wanted to be in a certain pole barn house with a certain hulk of a man. With innocent eyes and a hug that healed.

  She stomped the shaky floor over and over. “But you can’t have that. He deserves more that you.”

  A whimper snaked out. She hugged herself tightly and spit out every almost-curse word she could come up with. When she finished, she huffed with exertion, fury, and agony—a sorry ball of emotion that made her want to puke.

  Finally tears worked out her eyes.

  “I’m not a crier. I won’t cry.” Her hand slid over her flat stomach. An ache so deep, a spasmodic sniff made her lip quiver. She shook her head as the tears leaked down her face. Impossible. She’d survived worse than this. Why was this so freaking hard? As she tried to force the breakdown to stop, it only increased.

  “Why?” she tilted her head and yelled at the ceiling. “It’s time to move on. Time to forget. It’s done. Suck it up and start over.”

  She stabbed the heels of her hands into her eyes. But nothing eased. The ceiling answered not a word and the blasted silence slithered around her soul. She pointed a finger up. “You promised. You said you’d be with me, no matter what. So why? Why can’t I get over this? Why can’t I forget Ake?”

  Because you love him.

  With a gasp, the tears froze on her face, her body stilled. She loved him. Her marriage wasn’t an apology or retribution. It was love. Simple adoration. She loved Ake with all her heart, like she’d loved no other.

  She collapsed on the grungy carpet in the middle of the room. “I love you, Ake. Oh, crap. I love you!”

  The ceiling tiles seemed unimpressed. What was she going to do?

  ***

  De
spite the good summer of fishing, Hoge had grown touchier and touchier as the days had passed. But now he was just plum nuts. Fishing on a Sunday? Ake protested. “We can’t go out with just you and me, Hoge. We need the crew.”

  “No we don’t.”

  His brother continued to check the instruments on the panel in the wheelhouse. Ake stepped into his brother’s domain. “Don’t be crazy, Hoge. We can’t fish alone.”

  Hoge’s thunderous face snapped to his. He shoved him out of the enclosure. “Telling me what to do now, Ake? Dad and I used to fish all the time before you showed up.”

  Ake threw his hands out in surrender. “That was a much smaller boat.”

  Hoge spun and returned to his monitors. “You don’t know squat.”

  “There could be a squall coming in, too.”

  In response, Hoge thrust the throttle forward and the Sea Wheat 1 pulled away from the dock. Ake shook his head. He hadn’t even finished checking the weather monitor. And they had no ice. Had Hoge lost his mind? Never in his born days had his brother insisted they fish on Sunday. Nothing made sense.

  He meandered across the deck to his usual spot, his feet knowing the uneven tilt of each wave by instinct, and turned his face toward the wind. A chill now filled the air. Summer waved goodbye at twelve knots. He set his gaze on the horizon, praying for Pop, Stormi, and Hoge.

  The boat went out farther where the waves were choppier. Soon the coast and the buildings faded into a mist on the far western horizon. Not one boat could be seen. Ahead the sky appeared gray. Anytime now, Hoge would holler to let out the net.

  Instead, he cut the engine.

  Ake rose. The waves slapped the sides of the boat. The wind lifted his hair. The smell of dead fish and fresh ocean salt intermingled as he waited for Hoge to step from the wheelhouse. But he didn’t. In the distance, Ake could see the bigger waves moving in. Why had they stopped here? What was the reasoning for being so far out with the storm front in their face?

  He strode to midship and stared at Hoge. His brother’s gaze was fixed on the horizon. After several minutes, the big man shouldered out and set his hands on his thick waist.

  “I made her leave.”

  “What?” Ake shook his head. “Who are you…”