Read Something of a Storm (All in Good Time Book 1) Online
Authors: Brooke St. James
I waited till I was on my way home to open the card. There were no other cars around when I stopped at a red light, so I fished in my purse and removed the envelope. I went straight for the money. My hands shook as I counted it. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12…
twelve one-hundred-dollar bills!
I couldn't believe it. I took a quick glance at the light, which was still red before thumbing through the money again. I counted to twelve again, paying close attention to the 100 on the corner of each bill. The light was green when I looked up again, and I quickly closed the card and stashed it in my purse.
It was a good thing Cindy Callahan stopped me from counting it at work because I would not have known how to react to such a generous gift. She probably stopped me because she and Mr. Callahan were responsible for most of it. Everyone at work would have had to donate a hundred dollars a piece to come up with a sum that large, and there was just no way that happened. They were a generous group, but most of them couldn't spare that kind of cash.
I couldn’t help but feel bad about taking that much money from them, but God knew I needed it. I had three thousand dollars saved up and would be getting another eight hundred from the sale of my car. That might sound like a decent amount to get Lexi and me started in San Francisco, but I knew I'd have to work miracles to make it stretch.
This gift from the good folks at Callahan's put my total savings at a whopping five thousand dollars. My mom didn't know about any of it, and I planned on keeping it that way. She was terrible with money, and I knew she'd try to guilt me into giving her some of it when we left.
I made sure the card was hidden in my purse as I walked into the house. I had Mrs. Williams' Tupperware container in my hand as I approached the door. It was filled with the rest of the cake and some leftovers from the party.
There was a box on the front stoop and I bent to add it to my load before opening the door. It was clearly marked, so I knew it had come from Zappos, an online shoe company.
"Why is there a Zappos box out here?" I asked stepping inside. My mom was sprawled out onto the couch with a cigarette in one hand and a glass of vodka in the other. This was her assumed position.
"Oh good! I totally forgot I ordered that. It's the outfit I'm wearing to Lexi's graduation. That's tonight, isn't it?"
I sat the cake pan and Zappos box on the kitchen counter behind the couch where she was sitting. "Yes."
She laughed. "Well, it's a good thing it came in, isn't it?"
"I guess it's good, Mom. How were you going to pay for it?" She made a disgusted face at me. "With a credit card, the same way you pay for everything you order online. Welcome to the twentieth century, Laney."
I didn't bother informing her that we were in the twenty-first century. "How much did it cost?" I asked.
"Two—" she hesitated. "I don't have to answer my actions to you, Delaney Rockwell, nothing's too high a price to pay for your sister's high school graduation. Why do you always have to come in and be a big Debby downer?" She snubbed her cigarette in the ashtray that was sitting next to the couch before standing to walk toward me. I assumed she was coming to inspect her new outfit.
I left her to it and headed through the small kitchen and down the hallway. We lived in a tiny, two-bedroom house that was more of a shack. It stank and was an absolute mess. I cleaned for over an hour before I went to work that morning, but it really hadn't even made a dent.
Lexi and I had shared a room our whole life, so it didn't surprise me to see her sitting on the bed when I opened the bedroom door. I hadn't expected to see her friend Tara there, but that really didn't surprise me much either.
"Hey," I said, tossing my purse onto the dresser. I pulled my long, dark hair out of a ponytail and proceeded to scratch my head. I wasn't even looking at Lexi or her friend when Tara said, "Why'd your mom just call you Delaney Rockwell? I thought your name was Laney Spencer."
The walls in our house were paper thin, so it made sense that she overheard my mom.
"Rockwell's her middle name," Lexi answered before I had the chance.
Tara let out an uncontrollable laugh and I glanced at her with a straight face.
"Seriously?" she asked, still unable to contain her amusement even though she tried. "Your middle name's
Rockwell
?"
"Yeah, we're both named after soap opera characters," Lexi said. "Laney is Delaney Rockwell Spencer and I'm Lexi Cameron Charles." She paused before adding, "We have different last names because we have different dads."
"Cameron's not so bad for a middle name, I guess," Tara said with a shrug. She stared off into space as if she was thinking about something. "I've heard you call your sister Rocky sometimes, but I just figured you were talking about that boxing movie or whatever."
Lexi and I both laughed at that. I wasn't sensitive about my middle name. Everyone just knew me as Laney Spencer, and no one had ever questioned Lexi's occasional use of Rocky as a nickname. It was only the rare doctors visit or other random filling out of paper work that anyone ever saw my middle name, so I barely ever thought about it.
"I got the rest of the money to pay you for the car," Tara said, changing the subject. "I didn't bring it with me, though, since you said I can't take the car till Sunday. Do you still want to wait?"
"Yeah, I have some errands to run before then. You can come by and pick it up Sunday afternoon if that's okay."
"That's what I told my dad," she said. "I can't believe you're leaving
Monday
! That's so weird."
"I can't believe it either," Lexi said. "I'm not even packed."
"I'm not either," I said, glancing at the huge, empty duffle at the foot of our bed.
Lexi looked at it too. "I need a big bag like that. I'm barely gonna be able to fit anything into those little bags I have. I probably won't even be able to fit the lava lamp."
"Ooh, ooh, I want the lava lamp if you don't take it," Tara said.
Lexi rolled her eyes. "You and Kristen are already getting everything else I don't have room for."
Tara shrugged and smiled. "I'm not complaining or anything, but why aren't you taking your car? You could fit a lot more stuff that way."
"I need the money for one thing," I said. "Plus, it's fine for driving around town, but I don't really know if it'll make it twelve hours down the interstate."
"Won't you need some way to get around in San Francisco?"
"Not really," I said. "The apartment we're renting is only half a mile from the studio where I'll be studying and there are tons of places within walking distance for Lexi and me to get a job."
"I can't believe you're hopping on a Greyhound and moving to California," Tara said. Her comment was directed toward Lexi, and it was obvious that she admired her for doing such a thing. Truth was, Lexi had nothing to do with the plans—she was just along for the ride. Obviously, I didn't steal her thunder by mentioning that.
"Speaking of moving," Lexi said in an excited whisper, "I got another graduation card in the mail today. It was from the Vinsons. They gave me thirty bucks."
"That's awesome," I said.
"That makes almost four hundred," she said.
"Good. Don't tell mom."
"I didn't," she said. "She saw me open the one from today, but she didn't see how much was in there and doesn't know about the rest of it."
"I got a little more from work today too," I said. I hadn't meant to mention it, but I was still really excited, and the statement just came out of my mouth before I could stop it.
"Really? From work? How much?" Lexi asked. She continued speaking before I could answer, "I forgot today was your last day. How'd it go?"
"It was good. They had a little party with cake and snacks and stuff. I brought some home. They're in the kitchen."
"Did they give you money?" she asked.
I regretted having said anything about it in the first place, but she seemed content with me saying, "A little. They gave me a pocket knife too," I added for a distraction.
"A pocket knife?" Tara asked. She made a weird facial expression and said it as if that were the stupidest gift she could ever imagine.
"I like pocket knives," I said, defending them.
"Mom says its because she never had a dad," Lexi said, "says it makes her feel safe since there's no man of the house. She keeps two of them in her purse at all times—some pepper spray too."
"You do?" Tara asked with wide eyes. "Nobody better be messin' with you!"
"It's not because I don't have a dad," I said. "I just like how they look. We sell them at the store and I look at them all the time. Plus, they're handy to carry around if you ever need to cut anything."
"What about the pepper spray?" Tara asked.
"What about it?"
"That's not just for cutting things."
"We sell that at the store too," I said with a shrug. "Mr. Callahan gave me a bottle of it and insisted I carry it around with me."
"Let's see it," Lexi said holding her hand out.
"The pepper spray?" I asked.
"The knife."
I dug it out of my purse and placed it, box and all, in her hand. She opened it carefully and she and Tara peered in. Tara let out an expletive, which made Lexi laugh. I wasn't quite sure why, but I assumed it was because it was bigger or nicer than she imagined.
"This is cool," Lexi said taking it out of the box and unfolding it. Tara cussed again when the blade was exposed. "You could hurt somebody with that," she said.
"It's not for hurting anyone," I said. "It's just handy to have a pocket knife with you—you know like for opening packages and stuff."
"Yeah, besides you couldn't hurt someone even if you tried," she said.
"You just said she
could
," Lexi said, staring at her with a confused expression.
"
Somebody
could hurt someone with this knife," Tara said, "but not you or Laney. You're not strong enough."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Lexi asked, looking offended.
"My cousin's a butcher and he said cutting and stabbing people ain't nothin' like you see in the movies—he said it takes man muscles to make a knife go into someone, no matter how sharp the blade is."
"Bull crap," Lexi said, carefully touching the razor-sharp tip to her finger.
"It's true," Tara said. "He told me skin's tougher than you think and you'd really have to jam it in there to make it go in. It's nothing like the movies."
"That's bull," Lexi repeated.
"No it ain't," Tara said. "He said human skin is just like pig skin and it takes all his might to make a cut on a pig."
"Look how sharp this thing is," Lexi said, holding the knife up for Tara's inspection.
"I'm not saying it's not sharp," Tara said. "All I'm sayin' is that skin's tougher than you think."
"Care to find out?" Lexi said. She'd always had a wild streak, and when she said it, she looked at Tara with that dreaded gleam in her eye. God only knew what she was thinking about doing.
"No thanks, girls," I said, quickly but carefully taking the knife out of Lexi's hand. I closed it and put it in my purse.
"Aren't you gonna put it back in the box?" Lexi asked, holding it out for me to take.
I took it from her but tossed it into the small trashcan near my dresser. "Boxes just take up room," I said.
"I wasn't gonna do anything stupid with it," Lexi said.
I didn't reply to that. "What time do you have to be at the civic center?" I asked instead.
"Six," Tara said. "Lexi's coming to my house to get dressed. Can you give us a ride over there?"
"Sure," I said.
"Okay good," Lexi said, "We need to go now because I still have to take a shower and straighten my hair. David Taylor's having a party afterward and he invited Jared and Graham and them."
"They're sophomores!" Tara said cracking up.
"They're juniors now," Lexi said, "and it doesn't matter anyway—hot is hot no matter what grade you're in."
Unfortunately, Lexi had some of my mother's traits when it came to guys. What I mean to say is that she tended to like guys who didn't necessarily treat her like a lady. She and my mom were both talking about a different guy every time I turned around, and none of them were ever what I'd consider to be a good catch.
"Lexi, don't go falling in love before Monday," I said.
"I'm not in love," she laughed. "I'm just planning on having a little fun on graduation night… Oh, and speaking of having fun—please don't let Mom yell and get all crazy and embarrass me when they call my name tonight."
I woke up bright and early the next morning. It was Saturday and I typically worked the morning shift at the hardware store, so I guess my body was just used to it. Lexi and my mom were both sleeping, so rather than tiptoe around the house trying not to wake them, I decided to go to Mrs. Williams' house.
My mom or Lexi must have gotten into the leftover cake and snacks sometime during the night because the Tupperware container was lying on the bar and was totally empty except for some crumbs.
There were dishes everywhere. The countertops and sink were full of them. I stared at the mess contemplating whether or not I should clean it up, but decided instead to just wash Mrs. Williams' container so I could bring it back to her—I'd deal with the rest of it when I got home later.
It took me about ten minutes to get to her house, and the whole way, I thought about the fact that it might be the last time I went there. For that matter, it might be the last time I ever saw Mrs. Williams. She was eighty-two years old, and I assumed a twelve-hour trip down the interstate to San Francisco wasn't something she'd be doing. I didn't know when, if ever, I'd be coming back to Greensboro. Those types of thoughts had me in a melancholy mood by the time I reached her house. She'd become a beloved friend, and I hated to think that this might be the last time I'd see her.
I told myself to pretend it wasn't true, and put on my best fake smile as I walked up the steps to her front door. She had a cast iron doorknocker in the shape of a flower, and I gave it two taps before I heard her little dog start to bark. She opened the door a few seconds later. Margo, the toy poodle, was in her arms and there was a big smile on her face. "Come on in, Laney," she said, standing back to let me pass.
I reached in to hug them both as I came in. "I brought your cake pan," I said. "It's empty if that tells you anything about how much we liked your cake."
She chuckled and turned to head toward the kitchen. I followed her. "Just set it right there on the bar, sweetheart. Would you like a cup of coffee?"
"I'd love one," I said. I sat the container down and she sat down the dog who took off down the hall. "I don't want you to have to make a whole pot just for me, though."
"I was planning on making a cup for myself anyway."
"In that case…" I said, laughing a little as I sat on a barstool. The laugh was pretty-much fake. The comfort and love I felt at her house had me feeling sadder than ever. I was far more comfortable at her house than I was at my own, and it showed by how much time I'd spent over here during the last two years.
She was a regular at the hardware store, and during one of our conversations, I asked her about her stained glass hobby. She asked if I wanted to learn how to do it, and the rest, as they say, was history. I hadn't anticipated being this sad at the thought of leaving her behind, but as I sat at her bar watching her make coffee, I felt overwhelmed with sadness and doubt.
I felt tears stinging my eyes, and I had to look away to keep them from rolling down my cheek. I shifted my attention to the sliding glass door that led to her back yard. One of the first stained glass projects I'd ever made was hanging there. It was a small piece with mostly blues and greens, and I could see all the imperfections. That too, made me sad. I blinked and stared down at the bar, trying not to cry.
"How'd Lexi's graduation go?" she asked, not noticing my mood.
"Good," I said. I cleared my throat. "My mom went out partying with Lexi and a bunch of her high-school friends afterward, and they didn't get home till four in the morning."
She glanced at me with an unreadable expression. I assumed she was wondering how I felt about that.
"I knew it was coming when she bought a new dress and shoes for the occasion," I said. I shrugged and smiled a little, trying to make light of it.
"Maybe they just went to the movies or something," she said.
"I heard them when they came in. There was at least one guy in the house. Everyone was totally wasted and being loud and obnoxious. I put a pillow over my head so I could get some sleep, and Lexi was in the bed with me when I woke up."
"What about your mom?" she asked.
"There was a pair of dirty boots by the front door when I left. I assumed the guy they belonged to was in bed with her." I sighed. "I just hope he wasn't underage."
She glanced at me with a pained expression. "You don't think your mom would…" she trailed off.
"No, I hope not." I said with a casual shrug. "I hope she's not that stupid."
Mrs. Williams started to say something but seemed to change her mind. I watched as she added cream and sugar to our coffees and then came over to the bar to sit beside me. "How are you feeling about bringing Lexi with you?" she asked.
I took a sip of my coffee before answering. "I have to be honest, I have my doubts. I hate to say it, but she's got a lot of my mom in her." I paused, but she just waited for me to continue. "But she's got a lot of Lexi in her too, if you know what I mean." I sighed. "I guess I just feel like if I leave her here with my mom, she'd be destined to live the exact same life, but if I get her out of there, she's got a chance of becoming something else… something better, you know?"
She put her hand on mine. "I do know, and I think you're right. I think deep down, Lexi's a good girl."
"She is," I agreed. "It's just that she's only seventeen, and I can't help but feel responsible for her. She'll be eighteen in a couple of months, but still… that's just so young."
"But you ultimately feel like she's better off with you than with your mom?" she asked.
I let out a little laugh. "Without a doubt," I said.
She rubbed my forearm. "Well, I think you're a saint, Delaney Spencer—and I also think you're right about Lexi being better off with you. After everything you've shared with me about your mom during the past couple of years, I think you girls are both better off getting a fresh start somewhere else."
"Mom doesn’t think so," I said.
She breathed a humorless laugh. "I guess not! Not when you pay most of the bills around there."
I shook my head. "She said she's gonna starve to death when I leave."
"Don't let her put that guilt on you, Laney. You have to live your own life. Your mother will be just fine. She didn't starve to death before you started working, and she won't starve to death when you're gone."
"I hate her for making me feel so guilty."
"You don't hate her. You and I both know better than that. She's got problems, and you're going to be better off at a distance, but we both know you love your mom."
I sighed. "You're probably right."
I stayed there for two more hours talking with Mrs. Williams. I told her I got an unexpected bonus from Callahan's and offered her some money for all the supplies she'd been so generous with during the past two years. She scoffed at the notion, and instead gave me a card she'd already prepared with two hundred dollars in it, saying she wished it could be more. I tried to refuse it, but she wasn’t having any part of that.
Before I left, she asked if she could pray for me. I'd done a good job of keeping the tears at bay the whole time I was over there, but they tumbled freely down my cheeks the moment she started in on that heartfelt prayer. She asked God to guide my path and bless my life, and the emotion I felt as a result of her words was just too much to contain. I cried like a baby the whole time she prayed. I hugged her tightly before I left, and pulled out of the driveway with tears still in my eyes.
There was a note on the door when I got home. It read:
Laney, We went by Callahan's but they said your last day was yesterday. Please call so we can come see you before you leave town. Uncle Rick and Aunt Barb
I peeled the note from the door and slipped it in my pocket before turning the knob. It was nearly noon, and the house was still dark and quiet. I figured Lexi and Mom had enough sleep, so I wasn't concerned with tiptoeing anymore.
Uncle Rick (my mom's brother) and Aunt Barb had a nice house with a decent family on the other side of town. They had a big fight with my mom years ago about her constantly borrowing money and never paying it back, and they rarely called or came by anymore. I was surprised to hear from them and curious enough to call them right away.
They didn't say what they wanted over the phone. I talked to Uncle Rick who said he'd like to see me that afternoon and asked if there were someplace we could meet. We settled on 3pm at the dollar store that was about halfway between both of our houses.
I was already waiting in the parking lot when Aunt Barb and Uncle Rick pulled in. He had a fairly successful career as an electrician. He owned his own business for as long as I could remember. It had grown quite a bit over the years because it wasn't uncommon for me to see white trucks with the logo for
Rick's Electric
around town. They pulled into the parking lot in one of those trucks.
I stood next to my car to wait for them to get out.
"Hey honey," Aunt Barb said as she got out of the passenger's side.
"Hey, Aunt Barb—" I glanced at my uncle. "Hey, Uncle Rick."
"Hey, Laney," he said, crossing over to where we were standing.
I gave them both hugs and then we stood there for a second, none of us sure what to say. Aunt Barb had a card and a box in her hand, and I glanced at it without even knowing what I was doing.
"This is for you," she said, extending it to me. I gave her a curious look as I took it from her. "The card's for Lexi's graduation, but the rest is for you."
It was a plain brown box, and I glanced down at it but didn't open it.
"Rita Williams goes to our church," she said. "She said you were taking your sister to San Francisco next week."
"That's the plan," I said smiling.
"She also said you were selling your car before you go," my uncle said.
"That's right," I said. I made a gesture toward the beat-up car I'd been driving for the last few years. "It's staying here. I don't think it would make it all the way down there, and besides, you don't really need a car in a big city like that."
"Well, your aunt and I are really proud of you for going out on your own like this," Uncle Rick said. He glanced down with an expression that seemed sad or guilty or maybe a bit of both. "I know it hasn't been easy on you with the way your mom is, and I just wanted you to know that we're proud of you and we think you're doing the right thing. Rita said you're real good at stained glass—she said she thought you'd be able to make a living at it."
"I sure hope so," I said smiling. "But Starbucks or Piggly Wiggly will have to do for a while since I'll just be apprenticing at first."
My Uncle sighed as if he was thinking about what to say. "I know it's been hard on you with your mom and everything, and I'm sorry we weren't able to help you girls out more over the years—" he paused and rubbed his whiskers. "It's just that your mom, well, she started to take advantage and we had to create a little distance—"
"I know, Uncle Rick, It's okay. You don't have to explain."
He sighed again. "Well, Rita told us that you didn't have a car or a cell phone, and your aunt and I wanted to see what we could do to help you out getting started." He gestured at the truck they had driven. "It's about eight years old, but it's only been driven around town and we've always had it serviced. I don't think you'd have any trouble taking it to California, and it should be a good vehicle for you as long as you have the oil changed regularly and everything."
I glanced at the truck, but didn't know what to say.
"We're planning on paying the insurance on it for a year," he added before I could respond. "After that, if you decide you don't need a vehicle in a big city, or don't want it for whatever reason, you can just sell it. You should be able to get at least a couple thousand out of it."
I stared at them, wondering if I was hearing them right. My aunt pointed to the truck. "That logo's just a magnet," she said as if that was something I was worrying about. "It comes right off."
I smiled stiffly, but mostly just because I was shocked. Never in a
million years
did I dream they'd give me a truck. This changed everything.
"Do you want it?" my uncle asked, taking in my speechlessness.
"Oh, yeah, definitely—I mean if you're sure."
"We're sure," he said. "We didn't want you girls going all the way down there with no way to get around. It's not much to look at, but it's a good truck."
I glanced at it. It was a single-cab white pick-up with a flat bed. They'd already removed most of the toolboxes that ran along the sides, leaving a completely flat bed with an oversized silver toolbox right at the back of the cab. If the flatbed and toolbox weren't sign enough, there were five small yellow lights positioned on top of the cab making it even more obvious that it was a work truck.
He was absolutely right, it was nothing to look at, but hey, it was a dependable truck, and like he said, if I couldn't afford the insurance after a year, I could just sell it.
I was still staring at the truck when I heard my aunt say, "There's a cell phone in the box. It's a basic phone and a basic plan. There's paperwork inside explaining the limits, but as long as you don't go over or anything, we're planning on carrying that for a year as well. Justin already programmed our numbers into it just in case you need anything."