Turbulent Intentions(23)

“I hear a story coming,” Amy said with glee.

“No, no story. I was just surprised to see him, that’s all. It’s been a lot of years since the last time.”

“I want to know what’s going on, but I’ve learned in our short time together how close-lipped you can be. I’ll wait it out,” Amy said.

“Good,” Stormy said. “This week has all around sucked. I have to move on top of everything else.”

“Don’t you like your apartment?”

“It’s not that. It has new management and they are remodeling. I’ve known that I’d have to vacate for a while, but time just crept up on me and now I have no time and nowhere to go.” Stormy’s brown eyes began to well up with tears. Again. She had to get a hold of herself.

“Oh my . . .” Amy gasped, now staring at her with sympathy. “Is there any way they can give you more time?”

“Nope,” she said as she carried a basket of dirty dishes into the kitchen. “I’ve just come to realize that it is what it is.”

Amy shook her head. Thankfully, they were busy the rest of the afternoon, so Stormy didn’t have much time to stress out over her living situation or her crappy job.

That also meant that Amy didn’t get a chance to ask any more questions. The reality was that Stormy had zero clue what she was going to do next, so how could she give any answers?





CHAPTER NINE

Stormy’s bus pulled up near her apartment building after her seemingly never-ending day. She dragged herself from it, then walked to her place and made her way into the lobby.

By the end of any day, her feet were trashed from standing for so many hours straight, so she normally took the elevator, but it was inevitable that fate continued working against her on a day as horrible as this. A large sign was taped to the metal doors: Out of Order.

Stormy trudged up the stairs with her giant purse in tow. As she was about to reach her floor, she began digging for her keys. Good coordination skills weren’t one of Stormy’s strong points—add a tired mind, and in true fashion, the strap slipped from her shoulder. Half the contents of her purse spilled out.

The sound of keys, makeup, and coins could be heard all the way to the bottom of the stairwell. Stormy dropped to her knees and began to sob. She’d had enough, and there was nothing that was going to hold it back.

When she heard a door open, and then someone moving down the stairs toward her, she tried pulling herself together, but she was just too tired. She looked down, hoping whoever it was just passed on by. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about why she was sobbing in the middle of a stairwell.

“What’s the matter, darling?” Sherman asked, compassionately stopping next to her.

The sound of his warm voice made her lean back against the wall as she looked at him, trying desperately to still the tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“It can’t be all that bad,” he assured her as he patted her hand.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a hiccup.

“Don’t apologize, just tell me what’s got you so upset,” he said with the gentle smile she loved him for.

She’d been blessed to meet this man at one of the worst times in her life—a couple months after she’d lost her father. Sherman had been kind, and reminded her so much of her dad that she’d immediately latched on to him. Over the years, if too much time passed without seeing him, she had to go and seek him out. Then when she had lost her mother, Sherman had been the one to hold her.

“You’re here late tonight,” she finally said as she began to control her tears.

He was picking up items near where she sat and putting them back in her purse, which made her want to break out into sobs again, but she somehow managed to hold them back.

“I ended up visiting too long with Ms. Penny Little. Then the dang elevators broke again, so I had to talk myself into coming down all these stairs,” he said with a chuckle.

“I’m sorry. I’ll help you down them,” she told him, glad to focus on him and not herself.

He gazed at her fondly for a moment. “This is why I appreciate you so much, young lady. Even though you’re obviously having a bad day, you’re still willing to help an old man out,” he told her before shaking his head. “I know how badly your feet hurt at the end of a day, so I won’t be responsible for you walking any extra steps.”

Her heart warmed at his words. She wanted to be seen as a good person, as good as her parents had been, and she felt as if she were failing them every single day. She wasn’t nearly as giving, as caring, as sacrificing as they’d been, so for a man she admired to tell her she was better than okay made her want to jump across the short distance between them and grab hold of him in a bear hug. She barely managed to refrain from doing just that.