The gentle knock seemed to come from another world, like from the television in another house down the street. No, more like the soft knocking as it sounded through the mansion to Storm’s master bedroom. I blinked at my photograph and remembered I didn’t have any tears left.
It had been a week since Storm had walked out his own front door. I didn’t want to wait that day, but I did. What else could I do? Storm thought I was a liar and the only way to clear my name was to show him my good intentions.
I hated myself and him by equal halves while I waited. Why had I been so stupid to lie? When Storm had finally opened up, I’d returned his faith by uncovering more of my own deceptions.
Then again, Storm was the one so anxious to go that he had no idea what wonderful things he had right at home. How could I watch him throw away all his relationships right as we were trying to start one?
And, underneath it all, I needed to see him again. I needed to know that Storm still existed in my world, that I hadn’t just imagined the whole thing. My heart sagged every time I thought about it: me with just the faint memories of that time I fell in love with a rock star.
I was in love with Storm. So, I waited. Until Tyson told me to go home. It was pathetic.
Tyson took pity on me the next day and called at about two in the morning to tell me Storm was back. That was all he said before hanging up.
Then Tyson sent me a proper business email, and we began to collaborate on the memorabilia project again. Under the clear understanding that we would not talk about my relationship with Storm. We were strictly professional.
Another knock seemed to come from far down the hallway of my photograph.
“Cora?” Tyson called from the gallery door behind me. He knocked again.
I squeaked again, surprised out of my reveries. My cheeks blazed red. Would Tyson be able to tell just by looking at me? I felt like the realization was written all over my face: I loved Storm.
I pulled myself together and opened the gallery door for Tyson. “You’re out late.”
Tyson hefted a box of memorabilia and carried it inside. “Every time I turn around, he’s clearing out another room. I had to wait until everything seemed quiet for the night.”
I wanted to ask but bit my lip. Instead, I helped Tyson take the priceless box to one of Caroline’s workstations and spread out the pieces. It was painful how much I could see of Storm in each one. I got to know him more every day, and he didn’t understand me at all.
“What about you?” Tyson asked. “Burning the midnight oil?”
I shrugged. “Freelancers don’t get days off, I’m discovering. I took more of that catalog work and will actually be making some decent money soon.”
“You’ll take off, don’t you worry.” Tyson gave my arm a pat. “After word gets out that you photographed all this, your business will be booming.”
“Unless Storm decides to stop this little project.” I slumped against the table.
“He can’t. It’s my ‘little project.’” Tyson waved a hand over the table. “I have as much a right to all of this as Storm. Says so in my contract from Ian. I’m the curator of his collection.”
I laughed. “So, you know how many offers I’ve had, right?”
I had been posting my best shots on a new photography profile and was already generating serious interest. Morris fans were noticing, and legendary stories were filling the comments sections below each shot. It was a magic mix of nostalgia, appreciation, and rock history, and it was on the edge of going viral.
And Storm had no idea.
The worst part was the very real possibility that I could fade away to nothing before Storm ever looked my way again. It wasn’t as if he was online searching for his own stuff, and he didn’t come into town at all. He was completely out of my world.
“We’ll make him rich and happy despite himself,” Tyson said. He had seen my slumping and wanted to cheer me up.
“How is he?” I asked, too desperate to care how sad I sounded.
Tyson gave a sympathetic sigh and bent the rules. “He’s still at the house.”
“Still packing up?”
Tyson paused and thought, then shook his head. “Actually, no. It’s more of a heartless spring cleaning. I’m salvaging everything I can, but I haven’t slept in days.”
It was hard to tell what the truth was between Tyson’s hoarding tendencies and Storm’s room-clearing. Though, my heart beat steadier for knowing that, no matter what he was doing, Storm was still nearby.
“I wish I could help,” I said.
“How about you? Still crashing on your mother’s couch?” Tyson tucked his hands into his pockets and moved toward the door.
“Does he ask about me?”
“How long are you staying in town?” Tyson ignored my question but his own gave me hope.
“A while,” I said. “I just got the security deposit on my apartment back, plus what the furniture sold for. And I can’t really complain about free rent.”
“And what about the rent here? How long can you and Caroline hold out?” Tyson asked.
My mother and Susie Q appeared down the sidewalk. It was late and they had gone out for dinner and come back arguing. They burst in without paying either of us attention.
“Put it down right this second, Caroline!” Susie Q shrieked.
“Mom! It’s late. What are you doing?” I barely had time to get out of the way before my mother brushed past.
She went to the front window and slapped a sign on it. “There. Now he can drive by and see that I put the sign up.”
My mother went on an ear-blistering rant about her heartless landlord and didn’t stop even when she finally noticed we had company.
“Why won’t you let me help?” Tyson asked.
“Or me!” Susie Q cried. “I’ve asked her over and over again. Stubborn woman!”
Tyson crooked a smile. “Where have I heard that recently?”
I scowled at him. “It doesn’t matter. We’re looking at nice condos closer to the city. Susie Q will be happy because it’s closer to the airport.”
“Ah, yes the idyllic city views and roaring airplane noises. I can’t wait to move out of this crummy old small town,” my mother said. She caught herself and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Drinking does not help my ability to cope with change. Change is not bad. Everything will work out in the end.”
She wove her way past me again with her head held stiffly high. Behind her back, Susie Q ripped down the ‘for lease’ sign. She stuffed it behind a pile of yoga mats and then chased after my mother. Seconds later, the two burst into drunken laughter somewhere in the kitchen.
“We bought ice cream and liquor with the money you gave us,” I confessed.
Tyson laughed. He held up one of my prints. “You mean the money you earned. Keep up the good work, and you’ll be just fine.”
“Thanks.” I meant it. Tyson had proved to be a mentor and a friend.
“If only Storm appreciated my coaching like you do,” Tyson said.
“Is he still playing?” The question woke me up at night, and I had to know.
Tyson hesitated, still protective of Storm. We both knew that his music was the true gauge of how he was doing. That’s why I couldn’t give up hope, not yet. I had inspired him to make music and I hoped that meant enough.
“He’s keeping to himself a lot, but I’ve heard him playing,” Tyson finally conceded.
“I don’t even know how to explain myself,” I cried out suddenly. “I had the best intentions. I didn’t know things would go further.”
“I know,” Tyson said.
“Will you tell him?” I had no dignity left. I would beg Tyson if it meant Storm would hear I hadn’t meant to hurt him.
“Why don’t you just come up to the mansion?” Tyson looked at his watch. “Maybe tomorrow morning?”
“And say what? Storm made it clear he didn’t want to hear anything I had to say.” I crossed my arms. I had some pride left, after all.
“So, you’re both just going to sit in your separate corners and never talk again?” Tyson asked. “There are a few more boxes this size but I might not bring them down next time.”
“Really? What next? Are you going to withhold my paycheck?” I asked.
Tyson smiled. “I’m not the one getting in the way.”
I walked Tyson to the door and leaned heavily against the wall. “And I’ve intruded enough, don’t you think? I mean, our whole relationship started when I crashed his party.”
“I seem to recall he lied right back.”
“A habit you taught him,” I shot back at Tyson. “Coaching him to avoid cons.”
Tyson held up both hands. “You know I’m going to tell him I saw you. And I’ll tell him again about how your good intentions got tangled up with everything else. I’m on your side, Cora.”
I stopped him with a serious look. “And you’ll tell me when there’s no more hope?”
Tyson laughed and patted my cheek. “He’s still in town, isn’t he?!”
I was frozen long after Tyson had disappeared down the sidewalk. Storm was still in town. I glanced back at my spread of photographs and wondered if he was in one of those rooms at that very moment.
It killed me that Storm thought I was nothing but a manipulator. Did he really think I went around seducing men into getting what I wanted? Or had he just taken the first opportunity to push me away before I hurt him?
Either way, Storm was still in town. That meant he was probably flip-flopping as many times a day as I did. I wondered if he was able to sleep in his bed without picturing me. Did he turn around at the kitchen island and expect to see me on the other side?
I shuffled all the photographs into a tight pile and put them away. Just because I had fallen in love with Storm Morris did not mean that he returned the sentiment. I had been nosy, rude, intruding, and pushy. I had pushed too hard about reviving his music career. And he thought I had done it all just to make sure my hometown stayed the same.
“So, who’s the selfish one?” I caught myself asking out loud.
If I kept imagining arguments with Storm instead of actually confronting him, I knew I would go mad. Just exactly how long did I think I could function in Murtaugh with him just stewing in his mansion up the street?
Storm was still in town.
No matter how many times my heart swung back and forth like a pendulum, there were two things I knew for certain: I was in love with Storm, and I needed to see him again.
That thought kept me going as I locked up the gallery and turned off the lights. My mother and Susie Q were asleep in front of the flickering of my mother’s tiny television set. I tucked a blanket over them. As long as we were all close to the ones we loved, I felt like I could finally fall asleep.
But not after I spent long hours wondering if Storm was thinking about me.