Chapter 2

 

 

WILLIAM WESTMORELAND sighed and tried not to look over at Mike too often. He loved to fish, and he could have taken his trips anywhere. But it was Mike who kept him coming back to Apalachicola year after year. Mike was a good man, that was obvious, but he was also sexy beyond belief. William knew he was deep in conservative Florida, but when he closed his eyes and let his mind run free once the lights went out, he imagined himself with Mike. Not that he intended to do anything about it.

Mike had a daughter, which meant he was most likely married at some point and definitely liked women. To top it off, William had a habit of letting his feelings run wild for men he couldn’t have, for many different reasons. He met men all the time, and those who were generally available held no interest for him, while the ones who were married or otherwise attached drew his attention like ants to honey.

“Did you always want to make your living on the water?” William asked as they rode. He noticed Mike’s white knuckles where he gripped the wheel.

“I grew up here, and the Gulf is as much a part of me as blood or my feet. Being away from it would be like moving away from an old friend I’ve known all my life.” Mike relaxed his hands and continued driving into the piney woods.

William watched as stands of straight, narrow trees passed by on either side of them. “For some reason I always pictured you living right near the water.”

Mike chuckled, then sighed. “I used to some time ago. But when my father died, the family property passed to me, and it had a house on it. I worked to fix it up so I could give Carrie a real home instead of an apartment in one of those small, hideous, modern buildings they build at the waterfront that block out the view for everyone else.”

“I think they’re pretty hideous too. I passed a number of them and wondered why they were allowed to be built.” William grimaced.

“Money. The town gets tax revenue, and invariably someone else gets their palm greased and a loophole is found in the building codes. It happens all the time if you know the right person to talk with. Not that I can blame anyone. This isn’t a rich area, and people need whatever the tourists can bring in.”

“I suppose. But it’s a shame that an area like this has to sell its future and the one resource it has in order to survive. Because once it’s gone, it’s gone.”

“Yeah.” Mike turned onto a sandy drive that William would have missed completely, taking them into the woods to a house in a small clearing in the trees. “This is home.” Mike turned off the engine. “It isn’t much, and I’m sure it isn’t what you’re used to.”

“Mike, I think it’s charming.” William wasn’t kidding. The house was well kept, painted in a wonderful creamy yellow that set off the evergreen of the trees. It looked happy, and in William’s mind, a place where love dwelt. He’d lived his life in a large stone house that was more showplace and meant to impress than for actual comfortable living.

“Is that some sort of code?” Mike asked, clearly skeptical.

“Nope.” William got out, purposely ignoring Mike’s insecurity. William prided himself on his honesty. “Do you need me to help you get these things stowed?”

Mike climbed out of the truck. “Let me take you inside and get you settled first.” He led him up the steps and inside.

“Daddy!” A blonde tornado raced past William and launched into Mike’s arms. “Gramma said the weather was getting bad.”

“It is. So we came in early.” Mike knelt down to hug her. “Carrie, this is William. He was on my boat today and his car didn’t start. So he’s going to stay with us until the storm passes. Do you think you can clean up your craft room?” Mike smiled, and Carrie thought a moment before nodding.

“Okay.” She stayed where she was.

“Now, please. He and I are going to bring things in. Where’s Gramma?”

“Watching the weather. She says we have enough of everything to outlast the Second Coming, whatever that means.” Carrie rolled her eyes the way only a ten-year-old could.

“Then go clean up the room, and I’ll bring in my things.” Mike hugged her again, and William followed him outside once more. The wind was picking up, not hard but ominous, like it was saying there was a lot more on the way. It had William’s stomach clenching.

“Is it safe here?”

“Yes. This house has survived a number of hurricanes, and we’re far enough inland to be away from the water. The biggest thing is to get everything we can inside and then ride things out. We’ll lose power because we’re too far away not to, but there’s a generator in the garage that I’ll hook up in the morning, and it’ll run the essential things, like the pump and the refrigerator. We should be good.” Mike grabbed a box out of the truck. “Take your bags inside and put them in the living room for now. Also, if you could put the coolers on the porch, that would help.” Mike set off with the other equipment toward the garage.

William put the coolers on the porch like Mike asked, then took his things into the house and set them along the pale green living room wall. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do now. He was in a strange house with someone he knew only casually and his family, and at the same time, William was scared for what was about to happen. He resolved not to allow his old relationship traps to rip his heart to pieces once again. He was Mike’s guest and that was all. In the morning, once the storm had passed, he’d get another car and go on to his business meeting.

“I think we’re all set,” Mike said as he came inside, the screen door banging closed behind him.

“I have everything we need for a few days,” an older woman, about sixty, said as she came into the kitchen. She had the brightest eyes of anyone William had ever seen, like she knew things the rest of the world didn’t.

“William, this is my mom, Dolores. Mom, William’s car broke down and they couldn’t get him a new one.”

“I’m glad you’re here and will be safe. This storm is going to intensify back to a hurricane, and it’s coming right for us. They say it could turn before then, but I don’t think so. It’s coming our way, and we need to be ready.” Dolores left the room, and Mike rolled his eyes.

“Mom sees things. Don’t ask me how, but she does.”

Doors opened and closed, and Dolores returned with a box and plopped it down on the table. “Emergency supplies. We got enough lights, batteries, and everything else we’re going to need.”

“Is the storm really going to be that bad?” William asked as he looked into the box, which held enough survival gear for a small army.

“It’s not the storm. It could be a week before we get power.” She turned and left the room.

“She’s going to watch the weather to see how wrong she thinks they are.”

“I cleaned up the room, Daddy,” Carrie said, and Mike thanked her and handed her the present William had given him on the boat.

“William brought you this for your birthday.”

“Thank you.” She sat at the table and tore into the package, then squealed and hugged the books to her body before thanking him again and hurrying out of the room.

“Where did she go?”

“To her room to read. It’s her favorite thing, and she probably won’t come out until she’s devoured the books.” Mike’s eyes shone with complete and utter pride. “I don’t know where she gets it from, but it certainly isn’t me.” He hefted William’s bag, so William grabbed his canvas backpack. “Let’s get you settled, and I’ll see if I have some clothes you can borrow until the weather clears.” Mike led him down a short hallway and into the girliest room William had ever seen.

Built-in shelves, painted white, lined one wall of the room, and each shelf was filled with dolls of all kinds. The pink walls and small craft table in the corner completed the room. Even the twin bed in the corner had a pink-and-white bedspread.

“I’m not putting Carrie out of her bedroom, am I?”

Mike laughed and set down the bag he carried. “It is a lot of pink, isn’t it? Actually, this room is Carrie’s and my mother’s. It started out as Mom’s sewing room, but turned into their project room, and now it’s Carrie’s play room. I try to keep all the pink confined in here, though it does have a tendency to spill out sometimes. Carrie’s bedroom is next door, so you aren’t putting anyone out.”

William set his backpack on the bed. “Thank you. I appreciate you letting me stay.”

“Of course. I wasn’t going to let you get caught in the storm.”

William caught Mike’s intense gaze, his amazing brown eyes widening as they stared at each other. William blinked, but couldn’t bring himself to look away, not with Mike looking back. It was only for a second, maybe two, but it seemed longer. William stifled a groan when Mike licked his lips. He turned away, bending down to dig in his bag as cover to hide the fact that his face burned with embarrassment. His heart pounded, and all Mike had done was look him in the eye for a few seconds.

“The bathroom is right across the hall, and if you need anything, let me know.” Mike turned, striding away.

William watched him go, peering into the hallway just to get another glance at him. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, taking stock of the few things he had with him. William had brought a change of clothes in case he got wet, so he was covered there. He had his kit with him in his small bag.

Mike returned, setting a T-shirt and shorts on the chair just inside the door. “You can use these to sleep in if you want. Mom is cooking, so supper should be ready in a little while.”

“Thanks, I’ll be right out.” William stood. This was the last thing he’d expected on this trip. He’d come down to do some fishing—at least that’s what he’d told himself. This idea he had about Mike…. He knew it was stupid and that falling for another unavailable guy was the worst idea ever, but somehow Mike had gotten into his head. Now he was in Mike’s house with his family, for a day at least…. And he had to put his fluttery stomach feelings away. He couldn’t act on them.

William left the room and found the others in the kitchen. Carrie was setting the table, while Mike worked on what looked like bills and Dolores stood at the stove. The room was rich with the scent of spice and a touch of heat.

“This could be the last hot meal for a while, so I wanted to make it a good one.”

“Mom, I have the grill. It isn’t like we’re going to starve,” Mike teased, but apparently that wasn’t good enough for her. “Have a seat.” Mike pushed out the chair next to him, and William sat.

Mike smelled good, like the open air and sea had infused him with the cleanliness of the open water. His brown hair went every which way, lying where the wind had left it. William did his best not to stare, looking over the room instead. The kitchen was compact, with white cabinets and pale yellow walls that complemented the adjoining living room.

“What’s your home like? Do you have a lot of trees like we do?” Carrie asked, gazing out the window as the wind picked up outside.

“Not like this. I live up north in Providence, Rhode Island, so things look very different.”

“He’s a Yankee?” Carrie asked without heat.

“Yes.” Mike continued working through the pieces of paper in front of him. “But he’s a good Yankee.” He winked at William.

“We have huge maple and oak trees that my grandfather planted on the property when he built the house, and a line of blue spruce trees that shields our house from the one next door. The limbs of those trees go all the way to the ground, and I used to play inside them when I was a kid. It was like a natural fort.”

“Is it a big house?” Carrie asked.

“Yes. I guess so.” William had never thought too much about it. The house was home and it always had been, but yeah… the house was huge. “My mother and father live there, and I have part of the house. So does my sister, Rachel, and her husband.” There were quite a few people, but they were all busy and they rarely actually saw one another.

“You all live there?”

“Yeah. Well, see, we have a pool, and I converted the pool house into an apartment. I live there. It gives me some privacy.”

“What do you do for work? Daddy pilots the boat. But you knew that.” Carrie seemed to have an endless supply of questions.

“I manage the finances for the company my family owns. It’s really boring and not nearly as much fun as what your dad does. Mostly I sit in an office all day and make sure other people do what they’re supposed to.”

“Sounds kind of yucky.” She made a face, and William had to agree with her. His job could be exciting, but it was also what his father wanted him to do and had groomed him for since he was a teenager. He’d gone to college and then graduate school, studying what his father said the family needed. Of course, it also meant he had a job when he graduated.

“It’s predictable.” That was the story of his life. Predictability resting on top of routine.

“Still sounds yucky.” She put her hands on her hips as though that were the last word on the subject, and William had to turn away to keep from chuckling. He did agree with her. His job was his job; it wasn’t what he really wanted to do with his life. It had been what was expected, so he’d done it instead of rocking the boat, so to speak.

“Carrie, that’s not nice,” Mike scolded lightly. “Go help your gramma finish getting dinner ready.” When she’d scooted away from the table, he continued. “I’m sorry. In a lot of ways, Carrie takes after her mother. Lizzie didn’t know when not to speak her mind.”

“So you were married…?”

Dolores banged a pot, and William jumped. “Mikey and Lizzie never got married. She wanted to move to the city more than she wanted to be a mother. As soon as our Carrie was born, she handed her over to Mike and took off.”

“Mom.”

Obviously no bitterness there. William tried his best not to roll his eyes at his own inner sarcasm.

“That’s enough. Lizzie wanted her own life, and I wouldn’t have given up Carrie for anything.”

This was obviously an old conversation that had been rehashed many a time. William regretted asking about Mike’s personal life. He’d only been trying to make conversation.

The wind outside increased and rain spattered against the windows. Mike gathered his papers together and stood. William followed him into the living room, where the Weather Channel had storm coverage on a continuous loop. The radar showed the very outer bands of the storm reaching where they were as it moved rapidly in their direction. The storm was expected to make landfall once again right near where they were. “It’s going to be a long night.”

“I guess. Have you been through many of these?” William asked. He’d weathered a few East Coast hurricanes and they’d been unnerving, but mostly they’d gotten some rain, as the storms had avoided him up until now. But this one looked like it was going to be close to a direct hit. The storm’s radar picture twisted and moved on in the corner of the television screen. It was clear enough to William that the rain at least was getting worse near the center of the storm, which was trying to form an eye.

“A few. We get storms and things, but it’s been a while since a hurricane came our way. Don’t worry. This one is moving fast and isn’t going to have much time to get stronger. It might become a hurricane, but right now it’s just a strong tropical storm. If it were moving slower, it would be different.”

“Is everyone in your family an amateur meteorologist?” William joked.

“Living with Mom, you sort of pick things up. We all figured she could work for the National Hurricane Center. Her instinct is better than any of those computer models they always use.”

William chuckled, and Dolores called them to dinner. He went in with Mike and thanked Dolores as he sat. “I know you weren’t expecting one more.”

“Nonsense,” she demurred, setting a plate of chicken big enough for an army on the table. It had been a long time since he’d had fried chicken, and damned if that didn’t look good and smell even better. Salads followed, along with a huge pitcher of tea. “Now, everyone, eat well.” The implication was that things were going to be different for the next few days.

The chicken was crispy and as juicy as any William had ever had. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“From my mother. She always told me that if I wanted to catch a man, the best bait was with the chicken.” Dolores smiled. “Of course, my mother never ever talked about the real bait women had. Not like people today who talk about things like that all the time.” She waited until the platter had made it around before taking what she wanted.

“Do you cook like this often?” The mashed potatoes came next, followed by salad and green beans. It was a huge meal, and one of the best he’d ever eaten. “Because it’s something special.”

“Stick-to-your-ribs food. That’s what my mother called it. I usually make something like this for Mike on days when he’s fishing. It’s tiring work and all he takes is a small lunch, so he’s usually real hungry when he gets home.”

The wind picked up again, spattering more rain against the windows. Maybe it was the fact that he knew what was coming, but it unnerved him.

“Just think of this as a big storm. We get them sometimes, and the weather people always make a huge deal out of them, so folks watch what they say. Now, if it were stronger, we’d get out of here. But we’ll be fine right here.” She patted his hand and then went back to her dinner as though this was something that happened every day.

William ate and cleared his dishes when he was done, the same way the others did. Carrie did the dishes, and Mike and William returned to the living room. The storm was getting closer, and the wind outside louder and steadier. It seemed far away until Mike went outside to check on something. As soon as he opened the door, a constant roar invaded every inch of the house and went right into William’s bones. He not only heard it, but felt it, like a wall of sound that never ended.

The lights flickered and came back. William expected them to go out once again, but they stayed on. Mike returned and put the television back on. They watched the news as the center of the storm got closer and closer to the point on the map labeled Apalachicola.

Dolores joined them, and Carrie came in as well, climbing onto her father’s lap. He put his strong arms around her, and Carrie settled against his chest. A wave of jealousy washed over William. Well, maybe not jealousy, though the green-eyed monster was present, but longing to have those same arms around him. It had been too long since he’d had anyone in his life.

The wind roared outside, the sound dulled by the windows but getting louder by the second. Carrie’s eyes widened and she held her father tighter.

“It’s going to be fine, sweetheart,” Dolores comforted as she sat in a rocking chair, gliding back and forth as though this were just another day in front of the television. It certainly wasn’t to William.

“Why don’t you go to bed,” Mike said as he stood, lifting Carrie along with him. “By the time you wake up, this will all be over and everything will be fine.” Mike carried her out of the room, and William looked across at Dolores, who seemed equally calm.

William’s heart pounded faster and faster. There was no way that he was going to be able to just go to bed and sleep. So he stared at the screen until Mike returned and Dolores declared she was going to turn in as well. She’d just left the room when the lights blinked out. William held still, willing them to come back on, but they didn’t. Blackness and the storm ruled from that point forward.

Mike flipped on a battery lantern and set it on the table. It gave off a glow that created a circle of light in the middle of the room but faded toward the corners.

“How can you be so calm?”

“It’s just a storm, and the house was built and reinforced to take more than this. Besides, we have all the cover from the trees. If we were in the open, the house would take more punishment, but the worst of the wind is actually up higher in the trees, and these guys are designed to bend instead of breaking.”

Just as Mike said that, a crack—loud enough for William to jump—split the air.

William stilled, listening, hoping that whatever had broken wasn’t coming through the roof or one of the windows. “You were saying?”

“It was just a limb off one of the trees. It happens.” Mike stayed relaxed. “So what’s life like back home?” He was obviously trying to take William’s mind off the storm, for which William was grateful.

“My dad is president of the family company and has been since his father died. I’m expected to take over, and every year Dad turns over more and more of his duties to me.” William was rather proud of that fact, knowing that someday, at least, he’d be in charge of his own destiny.

“Is that what you really want to do?”

William sighed softly. Hopefully not loud enough to be heard over the wind. “I don’t know. It was always drilled into me that it’s what I should do. So I did.”

“How can you do that?” Mike sounded shocked.

“If you’re told something often enough and given no choice in the matter, sometimes it’s easier to just go along with it. My dad paid for me to go to college, but he also told me what I was going to study because it was the skills the firm needed. So I took business and finance classes.”

“Yeah, but if you could be anything, what would you be?”

William closed his eyes and thought as the wind continued to howl. “I’d do your job. I’d buy a boat—nice size, maybe a little bigger—one with a sleeping cabin, and I’d take people out fishing like you do, but for a couple weeks a year, I’d spend time out in the Keys, going from place to place, seeing what there was to see, soaking up the atmosphere, living off the sea as much as I could.”

Mike laughed. “So you’d be a beach bum if you could.”

“Damn straight. I think I could waste away in Margaritaville for a little while, and then come back and take more people out fishing. Spend the days on the water with the sun instead of inside an office with white walls and gray cubicle dividers. God, there’d be nothing better.” William rested his head back, imagining his life without the pressure of the family business and the plan someone else had for him.

“You know that things aren’t as rosy as you paint them. It’s hard work and long hours.” Mike leaned forward. “I spend my days away from my family, and fishing isn’t nearly as much fun when someone else is doing it and you’re the one baiting the hook. Don’t get me wrong. I love what I do, but there are times…. Everything with a boat costs money, plenty of it.”

“I know. Money I have. It’s time and the people I want to spend it with that I don’t have.” God, had he just said that? William groaned, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.

Mike remained quiet for a while, and a slight tension settled between them. “I guess I’m the opposite. I have friends and people I love in my life but barely two sticks to rub together, and after this storm, who knows what’s going to be left. The boat should be fine. The marina is protected, but if the wind is just right, it will blow the storm surge down into the bay, and then all bets are off.”

For the first time, William saw Mike’s nerves on clear display. Yeah, William had been anxious about the storm. But what he felt was nothing compared to the fact that, though they were safe, Mike’s entire livelihood was on the line, and there was nothing that could be done about it but wait and hope.

William wasn’t sure what to talk about. He tried to think of something innocuous he could ask about to ease the tension. “Carrie is really something.”

“She takes after her mother in a lot of ways.” Mike smiled.

“What was Lizzie like?”

Mike chuckled. “God. She was quite the cutup. We went to high school together, but she was never going to stay here. From the time she was fifteen, she’d said she was getting as far away from here as she could. She was tired of the town and all the people in it smelling like fish. At least that’s what she said.”

“I take it you liked her if the two of you had Carrie.”

Mike shook his head as a gust of wind banged at the windows, trying to get inside. He didn’t seem to notice. “She was my best friend. I was the kid who didn’t fit in very well most of the time. Lizzie didn’t take any shit from anyone. We went to the prom together, and afterward we ended up on my dad’s boat and… well… one thing led to another and I got Carrie out of it. After she was born, Lizzie went west to Arizona.”

“Is that where she is now?”

Mike looked around and lowered his voice. “My mom hates her because she left. I asked her to marry me, but Lizzie refused. She said that one mistake was no reason to compound another on top of it. Mom doesn’t know I kept in touch with her and sent her pictures of Carrie as she grew up. She is her daughter too.”

What an incredibly thoughtful thing to do.

“I finished high school and enlisted in the Navy. Mom took care of Carrie while I was deployed, and I was able to help support the two of them. I mustered out six years ago, and I took my savings and bought the boat to start the charter business.”

“Has Carrie ever seen her mother?”

Mike shook his head. “Lizzie met someone and fell in love. I was happy for her, but the guy was mean, and she tried to get away. I heard from her a few years back, and she was living in a shelter for battered women. She said she’d gotten free of the guy she was with and was trying to start a new life. She asked me if I thought it would be weird if she came back to Apalachicola. I told her to come on home. Her mom and dad were thrilled. They see Carrie sometimes and consider her their granddaughter, though the whole thing is hard for them. We didn’t hear from Lizzie again for a long time.”

“Oh no.” It didn’t take too big of a leap to figure out what had happened.

“Yeah. She never made it home. Hank apparently found her and made sure she’d never go anywhere again. Her father told me he used a baseball bat to make his point.”

“Do your mom and Carrie know?”

“Yeah. It didn’t change Mom’s mind at all. She still thinks Lizzie and I should have married for Carrie’s sake, but the two of us would never have been happy.”

“Why not?” William asked.

Mike swallowed and didn’t answer right away. “We were good friends, but she and I wanted very different things.”

The tension ramped up further, and William wondered why. He’d hoped this subject would be safe, but it had led to a quagmire. But that still didn’t explain the zing of energy that vibrated through the room.

“Have you had someone special?”

“Yeah. A few years ago.” William wasn’t sure how up front he should be and decided to skirt the issue a little. “Things just didn’t work out. We wanted very different things, and I wasn’t about to support someone else in the lifestyle to which they’d like to become accustomed.”

“Ah… you think they only wanted you for the money?”

“Yup. I know so, and that was the end of things as far as I was concerned. We all deserve someone who likes us for us and not because of what we have or don’t have,” William successfully explained without saying his ex was a man. This was conservative country after all, so he figured there was no reason to add more tension to the room.

“So you haven’t dated much?” Mike asked.

“Nope. You?”

Mike shook his head. “I have enough with my mother and Carrie. She needs a father who’ll be able to put her first, and my life is busy enough right now. Besides, most Saturdays and Sundays I’m out on the water. Those are my busiest charter days. Most people want to go out then, so I’m working.”

“Did you ever want to live somewhere else?”

“No. This is home. I know all the people here. I got to see enough of the world when I was in the service to know just how good I have it at home. Here no one is shooting at me and I’m in a place where I want to be.”

“Did you see combat?” William asked.

“Yeah, I did. I saw more than my share of man’s inhumanity to man, and I’d just as soon never see things like that again. And I don’t want Carrie to either.”

Mike sat back as though he’d said all he wanted to, and William did the same, listening as the wind howled outside. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the weather, but wasn’t able to.

Mike stood and quietly left the room, then returned a few minutes later. “Carrie is sound asleep.”

“How much longer do you think this will last?” William asked as he pulled out his phone and checked the radar. The very eye of the storm—which, according to the weather information, had been upgraded to a minimal hurricane—was approaching.

“Not much longer,” Mike said, sitting back down and staying quiet for a while as though he were thinking things over. “Lizzie was the only woman I’ve ever been with.”

That was a strange admission until William thought about it and wondered if Mike was hinting at what William thought he might be trying to tell him. “That was a long time ago.”

“Yeah, I guess it was. People here don’t understand a lot of things. Or I don’t think they’ll understand some things. I have a daughter and mother to support, so sometimes my real feelings about things don’t matter because of what’s more important.”

“Okay?” William said, wondering exactly what the roundabout, confusing train of thought was supposed to mean. “You don’t talk about yourself much, do you?”

The wind notched up once again, the storm thick around them. Rain and wind mixed with the thunder to form one cacophony of sound reminiscent of a jet engine parked nearby and left running. It didn’t rise and fall the way wind did in storms back home. This was constant and unrelenting.

“No, I don’t.”

The air crackled with energy and tension as William gazed into Mike’s eyes, which were as turbulent as the storm outside. William leaned forward to let Mike know he was listening but remained quiet. He got the feeling that Mike wasn’t going to respond to a bunch of questions and that whatever he wanted to say would come out only when Mike was ready.

“No one wants to hear about me and my problems, so I don’t talk about them.”

William tried to keep his attention on Mike as the storm continued raging outside. “I understand. There are things about myself I don’t talk about much. My parents would never understand.”

Mike snorted. “You? You live in the Northeast, where everyone is liberal and open-minded. You should try living here, where everyone knows you and your family and has since you were in diapers. Things here are the same as they’ve always been.”

“But isn’t that kind of nice?”

“Yeah, but what if I’m not the same as I’ve always been?” The rigidity in Mike’s body built even more, to the point William thought he might fly apart.

“I didn’t know you before… well, before a few years ago, so I don’t know if you were different or not.” This was a strange conversation to be having in the middle of a storm, but maybe Mike needed to have it, and William needed to listen.

“I found out some things about myself a while ago, and I tried not to believe it. Does that make any sense?” Mike asked, and William nodded. He knew exactly how that felt and what prompted it for him. Like most gay people, he’d gone through a period of self-discovery and acceptance of the person he truly was.

Was that what Mike was trying to tell him? That he was gay? William leaned forward even more, wondering what Mike wanted to say.

“Daddy,” Carrie said, hurrying out in her bright-colored pajamas and climbing into Mike’s lap. “When is this going to be over?”

“Soon, honey. I promise.” Mike cradled her in his arms, and William leaned back in the comfortable chair. Whatever moment they might have had was gone now.

The wind outside died away and the roar silenced. William listened, but there was nothing at all. He pulled out his phone to bring up the radar. He still had a signal, which he thought was some sort of miracle. The center of the storm was over them now, but it looked as though the back side was less intense.

“Come on, honey. Let’s get you back to bed.” Mike carried her down the hall. A few minutes later, Mike joined him in the living room once again.

“Is she asleep?”

“Yeah. Now that it’s quiet, she’ll sleep through the night.” Mike yawned.

William had been hoping that they might be able to talk some more, but it seemed that time had passed and whatever moment they’d had was gone like the wind and rain. “I should go to bed too.” He stood. “I’ll see you in the morning, and thank you for everything. I really appreciate it.”

Mike nodded and stood off to the side. William passed him on his way to the room he was using and did his best not to turn to look at Mike. But he did anyway.

Mike was watching him and, even in the dim light, the heat in his eyes was unmistakable.

William’s hand shook as he reached the door to the room, opened it, and went inside. As soon as he closed it, William leaned against the door, taking a deep breath. He thought of opening the door to peer out just to see if he’d imagined what he thought he might have seen. Instead he shook his head and changed into the clothes Mike had loaned him. They were clean but still smelled like Mike’s rich freshness. Then he got under the pink covers and tried not to think too hard about what he’d seen and the hints Mike had given him.

All that meant next to nothing. William had been hoping that Mike was gay and that he was attracted to him. William must have been seeing what he wanted to see, as opposed to what was really there. It was late and he was tired. He just needed to sleep, and in the morning, he could get another car and go on to his meeting. The signs of attraction coming from Mike were most likely a figment of his imagination.