True North

Chapter 37

By the time her father returned home, it was after eight o'clock, and Stormy felt a flood of relief as she heard the familiar sound of the Buick's engine as the car pulled into the drive. She had come back downstairs after her shower, fully expecting to find Walter sitting at the table, and hesitant as she was to admit it, she worried about him. But she did her best to keep it hidden, snatching the back section from the newspaper and pretending to read as her father came into the house. She didn't look up as he entered the kitchen.

"Have a nice drive?" she asked caustically.

"Splendid," Walter said, refusing to be baited into an argument. He tossed a paper bag onto the table beside her. "Peggy made cinnamon rolls today."

Stormy carefully opened the bag, inhaling the delicious aroma from within as her father took his usual seat at the table. He picked up the first section of the newspaper and snapped it open, partially blocking his face from view. Stormy tore a small piece from her cinnamon roll and nibbled at it.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

"Don't thank me, thank Peggy," her father said, his gaze buried in the newsprint. "I'm just the delivery person."

"I meant for the picture," Stormy said.

Walter merely grunted in reply.

"She was pretty," Stormy ventured, to which he responded with another grunt. A long moment passed while she worked up her courage, and then asked timidly, "Did you love her?"

Walter sighed heavily. He lowered the newspaper to the table and focused intently on creasing the fold.

"I did," he admitted, and then fell silent for a long moment before continuing. "You do have a right to know about her, and I guess I've put it off long enough. And I will tell you, soon, but I just... I just need a little more time. Can you live with that for now?"

Stormy nodded. "Okay," she said quietly.

He met her eyes for a moment before pushing his chair back from the table and rising to his feet. "But anyhow, enough about all that..."

"I'm sorry," Stormy said, looking up at him. "For you, I mean—that you lost her. I've been so wrapped in my own feelings all these years; I guess I never really considered that it was hard on you, too."

"I put all of that behind me a long time ago," Walter said as he pushed in his chair and turned to go. He paused beside Stormy's chair for a moment, then hesitantly reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder, giving it an awkward squeeze. "But thanks."

Stormy listened as his feet crossed over the linoleum, stopping when he reached the doorway.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Walter said, turning around. "Peggy's working the kitchen for Joe during lunch on Wednesday and she needs someone to wait tables. I told her you'd be there by ten. "

"You did what?" Stormy choked, whipping her head around, but he was already gone.