True North

Chapter 27

Stormy climbed the steps to the darkened porch and pulled open the screen door, once again eschewing the doorbell in favor of knocking. The light rapping of her knuckles on the wood was met with a single, gravelly bark from inside, and a moment later the porch light flickered on, bathing the surrounding area in its yellow-orange glow as the inside door swung open. Brian stood on the other side, still in the same clothes he had been wearing before. His shirt was dry now, but the salt of her tears had left a faint white shadow on the dark blue cotton.

"Stormy," he said, his expression a mixture of surprise and curiosity, and it was then that she realized that she had no idea what to say. Where should she start—with the apology, or the thanks? Brian took a step closer, his curiosity switching over to concern. "What's the matter?"

"I'm a waitress!" she blurted out.

What?! her inner voice barked.

Brian stumbled over his response. "Umm, oh-kaaay..." He paused, and then shook his head. "Wait, what?!"

"I'm a waitress," she repeated, the truth now spilling from her lips like water. "I didn't go to college. I dropped out of hairdressing school, bartending school, and CNA training, and I've spent the past five years working as a waitress."

Brian stared back at her, confused. "I thought you worked in—"

"Sales and distribution?" Stormy cut in. "I do. I sell and distribute food."

Watching his face for a reaction, she saw one corner of his mouth twitch upward as he tried to contain a smile.

"Go ahead, you can laugh," she permitted. "It is funny after all, that— What did you call me that night, illustrious? Yes, that's it. The Illustrious Stormy Daigle set off into the world, only to come back ten years later as a very accomplished—wait for it—waitress."

Brian was failing miserably at holding back his glee, finally giving up all pretense of stoicism and laughing out loud, a deep and resonant timbre that carried out across the lawn and faded off into the darkness. Stormy liked the sound of it, although she probably would have enjoyed it more had it not been brought forth at her expense. She moved across the porch and leaned back against the railing, her arms crossed over her chest and her lips pressed into a thin, straight line.

"You don't have to take quite so much pleasure in my failure," she snipped.

He shook his head and held up one index finger, indicating for her to wait while he tried to compose himself.

"It's not that," he said, still chuckling as he stepped out onto the porch. "There's nothing wrong with being a waitress. I just... well, it wasn't what I expected, that's all."

"What did you expect?" Stormy asked.

"Well, um... I, uh... I sort of thought that..."

"Just spit it out," she said impatiently.

Brian hesitated. "I thought you were... an escort."

"An escort?" Stormy repeated. Her nose crinkled up as her brow drew down in confusion. Suddenly, her eyes flew open wide as she caught his meaning. "You thought I was a hooker?!"

"Well, you were being so secretive," he defended. "Plus you have all those fancy shoes, and you said you worked in 'sales and distribution', so..."

"I sell and distribute food, you idiot, not sex!" Stormy shrilled. "And the shoes are mostly outlet clearance or knock-offs, which is the only way I can afford them, but they are not hooker shoes! My word, what is wrong with you people?! Does everybody in this town have sex on the brain or something?!"

He shrugged. "The population does seem to be growing," he noted offhandedly.

Stormy glowered at him, acutely aware of the blood beginning to boil in her veins.

His grin was disarming. "Why didn't you just say you were a waitress? Why all the secrecy?"

Stormy slumped back against the railing. "I don't know," she sighed. "I guess I just didn't want people to know that I couldn't make the grade."

"By whose definition?" he asked.

She simply shrugged in response. Brian came to stand beside her, adopting her same leaning posture.

"You need to stop worrying so much about what other people think," he said. "Do you like being a waitress?"

Stormy shrugged again. "I guess so," she admitted. "I mean, it pays the bills, and I'm reasonably good at it..."

"Then who cares what anybody else thinks?" he said. "So what if you're a waitress? It's honest work, and there's nothing wrong with that. And it's not nearly as scandalous as being a hooker..."

Stormy elbowed him in the ribs. "Shut up," she muttered, the corners of her mouth tugging upward.

"Although the pay probably isn't as good," he mused, and then turned his head to face her. "Maybe you shouldn't rule out the hooker thing just yet..."

Stormy stood and spun on her heel. "I'm leaving now," she said breezily, her chin jutting out slightly. "By the way, I'm sorry about my father's manners, and thank you for sticking up for me with him." She brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face and strode toward the steps.

"Excuse me, miss?" Brian called after her, sounding like any one of the customers at the restaurant she worked in back in Kennebunkport.

Stormy froze, and then slowly turned.

"What?" she bit off, an icy smile stretched across her lips.

Brian gave her a winsome grin in return.

"Now I like you," he said.

She rolled her eyes and gave him a scathing look, but as she turned away and descended to the ground, she couldn't restrain the beaming smile that stretched across her face.