Turbulent Intentions(24)

“I like you, Sherman. You make me smile when I feel like crying.”

“There shouldn’t be anything in life that makes us sit and cry all alone,” he told her while patting her shoulder. “Instead of giving up and plopping down in this dingy stairwell, tell me what’s wrong and I’m sure we can find a solution.”

Stormy struggled with whether or not to share her woes with him. It really was her own fault for allowing things to get so out of control. But as he sat there with an encouraging smile on his lips, she decided she really did need a friend to complain to. When she was done, maybe she wouldn’t feel like the world was coming to an end.

“I’m losing my apartment, my boss thinks I’m a horrible employee, and everyone I meet seems to hate me—especially disgustingly attractive pilots who could at least have the courtesy to remember my face.”

Sherman sat there quietly for a moment, and Stormy wondered if maybe she’d offered up too much information. Most likely she had, but then again, it wasn’t as if he was going to go around blasting her secrets to the world.

“In life there are always trials. We don’t necessarily understand why they happen, but eventually we see there’s a reason for them. Sometimes everything has to go wrong before it can turn around and start going right,” he said before pausing and looking at the contents of her purse still trailing down the stairs. Then he turned back to her and continued speaking.

“It will work out for the best sooner than you think. As clichéd as that might sound, it’s true, and all you have to do is pick yourself up. I’ll even loan you my cane if you’d like,” Sherman said in his most gentle voice.

“You can never find that cane,” she replied.

“Because then I’d have to admit I’m getting old.”

She smiled. She also realized that he was right. She would get nowhere sitting on the stairs crying. She needed to gather her fallen items, go to her apartment, and start making plans. Her mother had always told her a person chose to feel sorry for him- or herself, and no matter how bad a day she might be having, she could guarantee someone, somewhere else was having a worse day.

“There’s always tomorrow,” she finally said. “I’m going to miss you, Sherman. You’ve always been so good to me.”

“I really wouldn’t worry about tomorrow yet, darling. Things are going to pan out for you—just you wait. But for now, you need to go on inside, have a nice cup of hot tea, and get some needed rest.”

“I’m not doing that until I walk you down,” she insisted.

“I already told you—” he began but she cut him off.

“I have a purse full of contents to collect anyway, some of which are probably at the bottom of these stairs,” she said with a genuine smile.

He gave up the argument and took her arm as they stood and began descending. The amazing thing was that her feet stopped hurting as the two of them trekked back down several stories and toward the front door.

“You will not walk with me outside,” Sherman insisted. “Never once in my days alive have I allowed a lady to go back to her home unescorted.”

Stormy laughed for the first time that day and then leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Okay, I’ll concede to at least that.”

Sherman gave her a strong good-night hug and then disappeared through the door. Stormy made her way slowly back up the stairs, walked into her apartment, and closed the door, latching the chain behind her.

She decided to take Sherman’s advice and let this horrible day go. Tomorrow had to be better. There was no possible way it could get worse.



Sherman walked inside his house and picked up the phone. Impatiently he stomped his foot as he waited for the call to be answered.

“Hey, Uncle.”

“That’s not a proper greeting, boy,” Sherman told the young man.

“Sorry,” Cooper replied, his chuckle clearly coming through the line. “Hello, Cooper Armstrong speaking. How might I help you?” His tone was almost serious.

“I’m too old to play around,” Sherman scolded before changing his tone. “Now, the reason for the call . . . I need a favor . . .”





CHAPTER TEN

The commute to work was making her late again. Of course her bus would get stopped behind a traffic accident. And she couldn’t afford another bank-account-draining cab ride.

But she wasn’t nearly as stressed as the day before. Today, she was feeling a whole lot different about her predicament. After talking with Sherman, she was feeling more optimistic about life in general, and she was determined to face the unknown fate that awaited her—be it good or bad.