Page 44 of Weatherman

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Yeah, it was a lame thing to say, but all I could think about was getting home and processing what was happening.

Weatherman steadiedhis bike as Donna dismounted. He only took a short ride on the Tail, as he didn’t want to leave his mother at the campground too long. Emma would drive her home so he could take this time to ride with his brothers, but he still planned to go back to the house and not to the Lair tonight. Natalie had been in good spirits all day, but Weatherman’s premonition was that she would crash soon and hard. As much as he would like to go hang with his brothers, his mother might need him more tonight.

Donna had cried when he offered to take her behind him. He did it to be nice to the woman, but also because she had no illusions about him and where they stood. She still made the offer, and he politely declined.

She nodded in understanding. “I get it. I’m probly old enough to be your mama.”

“Not quite her age, but that’s not the big reason I won’t sleep with you. When I take a woman to bed, it needs to be for the right reasons.”

“You gotta be in love or somethin’?”

Weatherman paused. “Yeah, something. Something more than scratching an itch.”

Donna rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, and he noticed her eyes getting wet. “I used to love gettin’ invited up to the Lair when I was younger. Made me think I was special ’cause not every girl got to go. I’d party with lots of men up there and loved every minute. Me ’n’ my best friend, Nikki? We used to think we were big stuff. Nikki’s gone, and now it’s just me. Sometimes girls still come to party, but it ain’t the same.”

She inhaled with resolve. “Got me a job at Ingles, so I have to wear a uniform. Not my thing, but I thought maybe people would look at me different. But they don’t. I’m still the town slut in their minds.”

Weatherman regarded the woman. “I had a friend in college. Nadia Camston. She was a student during the day, and at night she worked at the Silver Stock Gentlemen’s Club as a stripper, exotic dancer, whatever you want to call it. Some of the guys thought she would be an easy lay. There were girls who looked down their noses at her about what she did for a living.”

He smiled as a memory came up. “I was sitting in the cafeteria when one of them said something nasty. I can’t think of the words, but I will never forget Nadia’s reaction. She stood up tall, right in the middle of the lunch rush, and said as loud as she could, ‘Live my life and walk in my shoes a few days before you judge me.’ I think that’s powerful.”

Donna cocked her head to the side and grinned. “I guess it is. You never really know what people are going through or why they do stuff, right? Even if it’s a mistake.”

Weatherman gave a short laugh. “I think that’s the point she was trying to make. Wanna know the truth?” He leaned in as if imparting a big secret. “She was a virgin. She’d taken years of dance lessons as a kid and used those skills to put herself through school so she could graduate without a lot of debt. Her focus was on getting a business degree in marketing with an emphasis on social media applications. Last time I talked to her, she was heading to Japan with a team for some sort of expo thing. Still single but dating some sort of investment banker dude.”

“That’s kinda awesome.”

“Yes, it is. I’m really happy for her success.”

“I guess I need to go home. I gotta be at work tomorrow morning.” Donna frowned. “I really hate wearing that stupid shirt.”

Weatherman laughed. “We all do what we have to do. Good luck with your day.”

“Thanks again for the ride. I really mean that,” Donna said as she waved and then turned to find her car in the nearly empty lot.

He didn’t mind taking the woman with him on the ride. He’d wanted to ask Opal, but she was clearly with Pastor Bobby. A date? She had no obligations to him or anyone else, yet it pissed him off big-time to see her with another man. The moment they’d shared in front of his mother’s house was branded in his memory. He’d done his best not to relive those few moments over and over, but they regularly crept into his thoughts. It was impulsive to kiss her, but it was also right. He didn’t know why; it just was.

On the far side of the lot, he spotted her getting Pearl into her car seat with Bobby looking on. A slight chuckle of satisfaction passed his lips when he saw the preacher having trouble folding up the stroller, but it disappeared when he watched the man lean in and kiss Opal. It wasn’t a serious kiss in his estimation, as he saw Opal react with surprise, but she didn’t pull away. His chest tightened, and he had the urge to go punch the guy in the face. He had no right to do that, but he wanted to.

The possessiveness in his gut should have surprised him, but it didn’t. He didn’t know when or how, but somewhere during his brief meetings with the pretty hairdresser, she became important to him. Important enough that the green jealousy gremlin sat on his shoulder.

He kept his eyes on the two of them and noted with some relief that Opal got in her car and drove away. Bobby waved them off before finding his way to his own vehicle and drivingoff in the opposite direction. So, they didn’t ride together? That made him somewhat happier.

He waited until the red taillights of Bobby’s car disappeared, then took off in the direction of Opal’s place. Nothing bad about doing a drive-by to make sure she got home okay. The reassurance that she was alone with Pearl? Just a minor bonus.

CHAPTER 21

“Ingles hasa big sale on turkeys this week. Getting ready for Thanksgivin’, I reckon.”

“I found this coupon app. All you do is scan it, and it comes off the bill.”

“I can’t stand them places that only got self-checkout. I’d rather have a person than a machine.”

The salon chatter surrounded me with everyday fluff. Groceries, whose kid was dating who, school events, church bazaars, and other news.

The more I worked here, the less isolated I felt. I learned many of the local women’s names and found out much about their lives. Tammy Belle’s youngest child was battling leukemia. Charlotte Dane’s husband was retiring next year. Marilyn Walker’s son won a football scholarship to UNC-Chapel Hill and would head there next year. Every day I learned the news of their lives—both good and bad. It didn’t matter if they had big houses or rented small apartments. It didn’t matter if they drove sporty convertibles or minivans. It didn’t matter if they dressed in designer fashion or from the Goodwill store. Their concerns were the same.

---