True North

Chapter 67

Stormy didn't know how long she had driven, or which roads she had traveled before ending up at the base of the old water tower. She couldn't gauge the amount of time she had spent perched high up on the service catwalk, her legs dangling over the edge as she pored over the letters of supplication her father had written so many years before, all of which had been returned unopened. And as she sped toward the hospital where her father had been taken by ambulance, she had no way of knowing how bad off he was, or if she would be too late.

Stormy raced through the Emergency entrance and up to the Admissions window, struggling to catch her breath as she braced herself against the cubicle wall.

"My father... Walter Daigle," she panted.

"Stormy."

Stormy turned to find Brian standing behind her at a cautious distance. His expression was pained, his eyes pleading. She looked away—it hurt too much to look at him.

"My dad," she said. "Is he...?"

"He's okay," Brian assured her. "They're running some tests right now, and they'll probably keep him overnight just to be on the safe side, but the nurse said it was probably just an anxiety attack."

Stormy nodded and breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"I was just coming to look for you," Brian continued. "I would have come sooner, but I figured somebody should stay with your dad. Lillian's here now, so..."

His words dropped off, and a deafening silence settled in around them.

"I got your note," Stormy said flatly, referring to the memo he had scrawled in haste and taped to her father's door. "Thanks."

"Yeah, we've really got to get you a cell phone," Brian smiled dimly, chancing a small step toward her. His relief that she was at least speaking to him was plainly evident.

Stormy's ears perked up at his use of the word 'we' and her eyes shot up to his, obliterating any hope he may have felt with the icy censure of her gaze. He had deceived her—he had lied—and that negated their existence as a 'we'. Brian dared another step closer.

"Stormy, I never meant to—" he started.

Stormy moved away, turning her head so he wouldn't see the tears that filled her eyes.

"Brian, please," she begged softly, too tired to listen to his excuses. "I can't do this right now, and I just want to see my father. Can you show me where his is—please?"

He nodded and motioned for her to follow. They headed down a stark white corridor, walking side-by-side with a wide berth between them, until Brian came to a stop outside a large set of double doors. He motioned her inside and then followed, the door swooshing softly closed behind them. They were alone in the room, and silence hung heavy in the air. Stormy moved to the window, and Brian perched awkwardly on the arm of the small leather sofa that rested against one wall.

"They were just taking him for some tests when I left," Brian said, although he had already mentioned that. "Lillian will come get you when they're done."

Come get me? Stormy thought. Is he leaving? She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her forehead to the cool glass as she wrestled with her conflicting emotions. She wished he would leave, so she could think and function and breathe again, but—Oh, God!—she couldn't bear to watch him walk away. Stormy opened her eyes and focused on the pavement below.

"Thank you," she said quietly, a goodbye and an invitation encased in two simple words. "For staying with him, I mean."

"I would've rather come looking for you," Brian replied softly. "I tried, but then your dad went down, and I couldn't... Well, you're here now, so I guess that's all that matters."

Suddenly he was behind her, close enough that Stormy could feel the heat from his body against her back. He reached out and gently caressed her shoulder.

"I wanted to tell you so badly..."

"Then why didn't you?" Stormy shot back, suddenly enraged. She shrugged off his touch as she whirled around to face him. "Why?"

"Because I promised your father," Brian explained. "He told me in confidence, and I swore that I wouldn't tell anyone."

"Well, I'm glad that my father has your endless, undying loyalty!" Stormy fumed, throwing her hands up in the air. "But what about me, Brian? Where's your loyalty to me? Didn't you think I had a right to know the truth about my own mother, about my own goddamn life?"

"Of course you had a right to know!" Brian fumed. "Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I wanted to tell you, a hundred different times? But I couldn't! It wasn't my place!"

"Your place?" Stormy shot back. "Your place? Who gives a damn about whose 'place' it was? You lied to me, Brian, over and over again. You lied to me!"

"I didn't lie, Stormy," he insisted. "I just omitted a fact that was none of my business to begin with!"

Stormy rolled her eyes. "Lie, omission. Potayto, potahto," she spat. "Call it whatever you want, it's still the same damn thing!"

"Dammit, Stormy!" Brian raged, raking a hand through his hair. "I couldn't tell you! When I made that promise to your father, I never expected you to come back here, and I certainly never expected... us to happen! But it did, and I've spent every single day since just wishing that he'd never even told me in the first place!"

"Well, he did tell you, and I did come back, and 'us' did happen!" Stormy bit off. "And that should have mattered more than some stupid vow that you made to my father—we should have mattered more!"

Brian opened his mouth to respond and then stopped. He sank down heavily onto the edge of a chair and sighed deeply as he buried his face in his hands. After a long moment he looked back up at her.

"What do you want me to say, Stormy?" he asked despondently. "What can I do to fix this?"

Just then the door to the waiting room swung open and Lillian entered. She stopped short, acutely aware that she had just interrupted something, but it was too late. Stormy dropped her gaze to the floor, and Brian turned his face to the window as he sank wearily back into the chair.

"Oh! Uh...um, excuse me," Lillian stammered, and then turned to Stormy. "Your father is asking for you, dear."

Stormy nodded, and Lillian moved to wait outside the door. After a long moment, Stormy gave a sidelong glance in Brian's direction.

"I should go..." she murmured, motioning toward the door.

"Yeah, of course," Brian agreed. "Your dad needs you right now. I'll, uh... we'll talk later?"

Stormy nodded noncommittally and then turned to go. She paused for a moment with her fingers on the doorknob, and then pulled the door open and slipped away without looking back.