“Oh, yeah?” George asked, arms crossed. “Where you been staying?”
Ryder cleared his throat nervously.
“At my house,” Stormy replied. “On my couch. I wouldn’t dare make him stay at some flea infested motel.”
“I’m very grateful for that,” Ryder chuckled.
“Anyway, I came by to say that I’m leaving in two days,” she stated.
“Leaving for…?” Her mother seemed confused.
“I’m going to move to Los Angeles for a bit,” she said. “Just to try something new. I need a change of pace. A change of scenery.”
“What?!” Her mother covered her mouth with her hands in disbelief. “That’s crazy talk.”
“My mind is made up,” she said. “I’ve found someone to lease my place for a year. I’m leaving on Tuesday.”
Ryder watched on the sidelines as Maureen and George scoffed at Stormy’s plan. They made several valid arguments, all of which Stormy carefully rebutted. Stormy was sure he was worried they would talk her out of it or make her change her mind. He had worked so hard to talk her into taking this leap of faith with him, and he was counting on her to help him find Jett’s killer. He’d be devastated if she collapsed under the pressure of her gawking parents.
“We should probably go,” she said as she realized the conversation was going nowhere. “I’ll be staying with Ryder here until I can find a place of my own and get on my feet. I’ll call you when I get there. Come on, Ry.”
They left the house, her mother almost in tears and her father’s face beet red, and she didn’t look back once.
“I was worried you were going to change your mind,” Ryder admitted once they got back in the car.
“Never,” she said as she turned towards him, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight that trickled through the shiny glass windows.
He pulled her hand up to his mouth and kissed it. He was a little old-fashioned, and she loved that about him.
The moment they returned to the trailer, Stormy wasted no time and started packing for Tuesday. She emptied out her side of the closet into a couple of suitcases and filled a carryon bag with some personal items. She left out what she’d need for the next couple days, and all that remained in the house was her furniture and Jett’s things.
“Do you want me to box up Jett’s stuff?” Ryder asked as he stood in the doorway of her bedroom. He had caught her staring into the half-empty closet, gazing at what remained of Jett’s wardrobe. “You don’t have to touch anything. I’ll box it up. We can put it in storage and keep it safe.”
Stormy sunk down on the bed into a pile of exhaustion.
“That would be nice,” she said. “There should be some empty boxes outside in the shed.”
Ryder left and returned with a few large, cardboard boxes and began carefully folding Jett’s clothes and boxing them up. He took another box to the living room and packaged up Jett’s books and DVD collection. By the time he was done, all traces of Jett had been clean wiped away. All that was left were memories that played in Stormy’s mind, little moments frozen in time forever.
The next day, the young construction worker stopped by to sign the lease agreement. He promised to leave the house in better shape than he found it, to fix things, to keep it clean, and to be gentle on the furniture. He could tell this was much more than just a house to Stormy. He reassured her up and down that the house was in good hands, and Stormy could do nothing else but trust him.
He paid his security deposit in cash, and she told him she’d leave the keys under the mat for him Tuesday morning. Their flight was to leave at eight, so they’d be gone by five at the latest.
The man left, and Stormy was quiet as the reality of what she was doing sunk in.
“Hey,” Ryder said as he put his arm around her. “Everything’s going to be fine. I promise.”
“We’ll see about that,” she said.
“Don’t be so negative,” he said. “Live a little.”
It was easy for Ryder to say. He wasn’t giving up anything except a little extra space in his condo. He wasn’t uprooting his entire life and moving away from his friends and family. If it didn’t work out, he could send her packing and go back to living his west coast, biker bachelor lifestyle.
“I’m trying,” she said. “It’s just scary, that’s all.”
CHAPTER 17
Stormy sat in a window seat next to Ryder on the plane. The distinctive, stale smell of airplane oxygen filled her nostrils as she watched people shuffle in, bags in tow, and find their seats. He had secured them two seats together in the first class cabin of the plane. The seats were roomy and comfortable. She was already sipping champagne and wrapped in a warm blanket as she clenched onto his hand nervously.