Chapter 2
Surprise Party
I pulled into the marina and cringed as I turned off the engine. There was no sneaking home in Hell Raiser. Uncle glanced up at me from where he sat at the wheel of Storm Runner studying his fingernails. Waiting for me, of course. He gave me one of his looks as he stepped out of the boat and followed me into the house.
“Surprise!” yelled a dozen voices before I even had time to question why the light was off.
I jerked backwards in the doorway of the small duplex I called home. Stunned.
“Oh my God! I can’t believe this!” I said, standing there blinking my eyes stupidly while numerous flashes caught my mouth gaping open. I shuddered. Did I have enough money in the bank to buy all the humiliating pictures of me in just a sandy, wet bathing suit with my hair a stringy mop on top of my head?
Uncle came up behind me, slipped his huge arms around me, and whispered, “Happy Birthday, Baby Girl.”
He steered me forward into the middle of our kitchen, dining, living room combo while my vision cleared. I spotted Andrew first. He leaned against the back of our dilapidated couch. Luke stood next to him. Both were grinning like they had just won the lottery.
“Andrew,” I protested, stepping up to him. “It’s your birthday, too!”
“Yeah,” he grinned. “I know. But I got my birthday present this morning, remember?” He grinned even broader. I mean the Cheshire cat, broader, jangling the keys to his new truck.
Uncle, Luke and I had helped him with his down payment as our combined birthday present to him. It had been Andrew’s dream to own that new Chevy truck forever.
He didn’t have anything against Hell Raiser, or anything. Far from it. He’d even helped Uncle and me with rebuilding Hell Raiser’s engine. A hot rod truck just wasn’t his thing.
I thought it pretty cool that he’d gotten exactly what he wanted for his eighteenth birthday. Personally, I think he was hoping the truck would be a chick magnet. Andrew hadn’t had much success in the girlfriend department, so far anyway. Uncle had arranged for the truck to be delivered this morning, big, red bow and all.
“Besides,” Andrew admitted. “It’s been a lot more fun being the surprise-er rather than the surprise-ee.” Unexpectedly, Andrew threw his arm around me and hugged me tight.
His whispered, “Happy Birthday, Sis,” and kiss on the cheek almost brought me to tears. Andrew was not a touchy, feely person. He never had been. That made his rare hug all the more special. And then, of course, he had to ruin the moment.
“The look on your face when you walked in was priceless,” he said. His green eyes, so like my own, twinkled with the mischief. His comment was more like the Andrew I knew. “I can’t wait to post these on YouTube!” He held up his cellphone like it held priceless jewels, and grinned even broader.
“You wouldn’t,” I breathed, trying to grab his cell phone away from him.
He laughed, easily keeping his cellphone out of my reach. Typical Andrew.
“You know, Luke,” he teased. “I think Storm looks older today, don’t you?”
I gave Andrew’s red hair, so like my own, a noogie with my knuckles, when I couldn’t reach his phone. I hated tall people sometimes, I thought, as I glanced over and up at Luke, to whom Andrew had passed the phone before he ducked out from under my hand.
Luke towered over Andrew and I both. Luke’s easy grin split his face as he held the cellphone close to the ceiling. At twenty-two, Luke had reached his full height of six feet, four inches; five inches taller than Andrew’s five foot, eleven. I was the shortest of the three of us at five foot, six inches.
Luke’s eyes sparkled with impishness he appeared to consider Andrew’s question. He glanced from Andrew to me.
“I don’t know, Andrew,” he said, winking at me. “I don’t know if Storm looks older than you or not. Wait!” Luke mock gasped. “Is that an actual chin hair I see, Bro?” Luke squinted, and fake plucked a whisker from Andrew’s chin. “By Jove, it is. Andrew. You’re growing up at last.”
Andrew, who had been shaving since he was fourteen, released me and grabbed Luke playfully around the neck. The two of them began tussling, their antics threatening the continued existence of the couch behind them.
“Whoa!” I said, sidling away from them. The room was entirely too small for their antics when only the family was there. Adding nearly a dozen people in the room, made tussling impossible.
“Happy Birthday, Storm,” said Barney Peterson somewhere near my ear. I had bumped into him when I stepped away from Luke and Andrew.
Barney flung his arm around me. It felt like being hugged by an awkward scarecrow. The familiar smell of tobacco and Old Spice filled my nostrils as he gave me a scratchy kiss on the cheek, before handing me a card he took from his pocket. His body heat had warped it until it had curled into a bow-shape.
I turned to face him and smiled as I accepted the slightly damaged card. It’s the thought that counts. Right?
“I’ve already given Andrew his card,” he added, swallowing hard which made his prominent Adam’s apple bob up and down erratically.
“Thanks Barney,” I smiled again and gave him a quick hug back. ”That is so sweet.”
Barney Atwood had been a fixture at Weatherly’s marina my whole life. Somewhere along the line, Uncle had gotten up enough money to put a roof over the entire marina, including our home and the bait shop.
Like some ancient, harmless spider setting up housekeeping beneath the roof, Barney’s long scrawny legs could be found any day of the week after that, curled up beneath any one of the several picnic tables scattered about beneath that roof. Sometimes I wondered if Barney had another home to go to when we closed the marina at night.
Luke and Andrew called Barney the Bait Shop’s unofficial mascot. It was through Barney that Uncle found a way to supplement the meager income from the marina before it had come into its own. He had passed along a tidbit he’d heard about two shrimp boats Nathan Umbrige had for sell. Uncle bought them both. He immediately renamed one Storm Runner, after yours truly, and the other The Nauti-Boys, after my brothers.
“OK, Barney,” interrupted Travis Moody, dropping a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Quit hogging the prettiest girl in the room.”
“The only girl in the room, you mean,” I corrected as I shifted my hug from Barney to Travis. I laughed up at Uncle’s right-hand man at the marina.
The best damn diesel mechanic in the state of Florida, according to Uncle. I had to agree—not that I knew any other diesel mechanics, but he not only kept Uncle’s boats running, he gave a good rate to the other marina customers who had diesel engines in their boats.
Uncle was so protective of Travis’s abilities, he had long ago bought Travis a small house trailer and set it up on the Marina property. “Just to keep him near,” Uncle explained to us kids one time when we asked, and dropped the subject. Somehow we knew not to bring it up again.
I heard later that Travis had been married but his wife had run off one day. There’d been other rumors, too, but the men all seemed to hush talking about it anytime I came near.
Barney and Travis were like Uncles to me. I loved them both.
Their good-natured hugs were gradually edging me towards the kitchen area where I couldn’t help but notice the two store-bought cakes sitting side by side on our tiny kitchen counter. Chocolate for Andrew, and Vanilla with banana filling for me.
Both cakes sported two fat candles molded into the numbers one and eight on each. They were small cakes, but still, they almost covered the miniscule counter. I couldn’t help but smile when I saw the drainer full of clean dishes crowding the cakes.
None of the men had thought it necessary to put them away for the party. Typical male household, I thought silently as I tucked them into the cupboards before I turned back towards the living area.
I took a moment to really look around. Shabby chic, I suppose a critical eye would call our living room. I was too busy most of the time to think about the decor in our little home. Having guests made me see it anew through different eyes. I guess I never had to do that before. Mostly we visited with our friends and acquaintances outside our house on the picnic tables.
I had never noticed until now how the oh so comfortable overstuffed couch was lumpy in places, and I could barely make out the wagon wheel design on it anymore. The couch, along with a rickety, fish-shaped coffee table, comprised the sum total of our living room furniture. Maybe I should talk to Uncle about replacing them, at least, if not the faded, deer-patterned, wallpaper that had peeled back from the edge in the corner by Uncle’s bedroom I noticed.
Thinking of Uncle made me look over at him. He was talking shop with Cecil Brannan, of all people. I couldn’t hear what they were saying over the buzz of several conversations going at once around the room and the din of Luke and Andrew greeting a few latecomers that were trying to squeeze into the room.
Robert Simmons and Johnny Ray Booth, Luke’s friends, both gave Andrew a high five and a mumbled Happy Birthday. They shuffled the two gift bags they carried from hand to hand as if they had never seen them before.
I chuckled silently to myself, watching them. They probably hadn’t, I thought. I would bet my next paycheck their mothers had bought them, wrapped them, and then shoved them in their son’s hands on their way to the party.
Robert Simmons, standing a head taller than anyone in the group, let his eyes wander until they fell on me with something like relief in them. He dipped his head in acknowledgement when his eyes met mine. For no reason I could think of, he blushed to the roots of his hair and dropped his eyes back to Luke, rejoining their conversation before I could return his smile.
On their heels came Calvin Higgins, Andrew’s best friend since kindergarten. He wormed his way into the room, sporting his famous nerdy grin and gave Andrew an awkward man-hug. Andrew patted Calvin’s frizzy blonde hair and made some joke about it, I was sure, even though I couldn’t hear what exactly, above the racket rising exponentially as the room grew more crowded.
Poor Calvin, he had been cursed with hair frizzy enough to be classed as Afro since birth; only it was as blonde as Christina Aguilera’s. At the moment, it stood out all over his head like he’d been plugged into a light socket. He must have left the top down on his jeep again.
Andrew didn’t have many friends he could claim for his own. Mostly he and Luke shared friends. I was glad Calvin was able to make it to our party for Andrew’s sake.
Luke and Andrew directed their guests around the end of the couch to the weary coffee table. It looked ready to collapse under its burden of gifts and cards. I saw Robert and the others hesitate, then shrug, as they added their contributions to the pile.
Carol Carson and Mary Beth Greer, two of my friends, pressed through the door next. I use the term ‘my’ friends very loosely. In reality, they were more Luke and Andrew girlfriend wannabees. Even though my brothers ignored them completely, like they did not exist, Carol and Mary Beth still couldn’t help making calf eyes at my brothers every chance they got—like now.
I snorted under my breath at their supposedly subtle greetings to Luke and Andrew. My brothers pointed them towards me, and all but shuddered behind the girls back’s as they drifted reluctantly across the room to me.
Carol and Mary Beth gave me plastic smiles that wouldn’t fool a ten year old while covertly glancing over their shoulders at my brothers. Sickening, I thought. I put on a smile just as plastic as theirs. It turned genuine, however, when I realized I needn’t worry about either one becoming my sister-in-law. Ever! Now that was something to smile about.
Despite Carol and Mary Beth’s divided loyalties--I’m sure they would easily put a stake through my heart if my brothers asked it of them--it was still nice to claim I had friends of my own. So, I put up with the whole pretense. I was able to greet them both with sincere thanks for the fancy gift bags they carried.
However, I might have ruined my deception by sneezing at Mary Beth’s overpowering perfume when she hugged me. It clung to me even after she had stepped back and made way for Carol to go through the identical sham of hugging me like she meant it. I bit my lip and endured it, relieved when she, too, stepped away from me, frowning at my attire.
Carol’s perfume wasn’t as loud as Mary Beth’s but the combination of the two didn’t mix well on my salty skin. I hadn’t made it to my bedroom yet to change. I needed to do that, but how to take a shower and change in the middle of a party tactfully, I hadn’t figured out yet.
Their entrance made an even dozen in the room. Uncle’s little duplex felt crowded with only the four of us. Claustrophobia gripped me surrounded by so many. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one. I heard with relief someone suggest we move the party outside to the picnic tables now that Storm had arrived.
As I made my way to the door, I had to pass Cecil Brannan. When I would have slipped passed him without speaking, something Uncle would consider unpardonably rude, he called my name.
“Uh, Storm.”
“Mr. Cecil,” I managed to say civilly.
“I hope there’s no hard feelings?” He said, holding out his hand for me to shake.
I looked down at his hand and back up to his broad face, meeting his intelligent blue eyes with a challenge in mine.
“I’ll try, Mr. Cecil,” I answered honestly. I shifted the cake I was carrying to my left hand, and reached hesitantly for his huge paw.
“Good,” he said with relief. My teeth rattled as he pumped my arm up and down like he was bailing a boat. “Today’s your last day of Community service,” he showed me a mouth full of crooked yellow teeth that was supposed to be a smile. “Happy Birthday, Storm.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, relieved when he let go of my hand. Covertly, I wiped the sweat from his palm on my spandex-covered butt. “How about giving me a present of Bradley out there shoveling sand next Saturday?” I asked, swallowing the bitterness that filled my mouth.
“I know you think justice wasn’t served, and Bradley got off scot free, Storm.”
“You’re right. I don’t. And, he did!”
“Make way, Birthday girl,” said Andrew behind me.
I stepped back out of the way of Andrew coming out the door holding the other cake. Mary Beth was glued to his side, carrying the cake knife. Andrew caught my eye as he passed and rolled his eyes towards Mary Beth. I winked in understanding and held my cake out of their way.
Luke, Robert, Johnny Ray, and Calvin came next, carrying presents. I hugged the wall and stood my ground, waiting. I wasn’t finished with Cecil Brannan yet.
As Robert passed, I glanced up and surprised a look on his face I don’t think he intended me to see. When our eyes met, he replaced his look of longing with an innocuous smile so fast I almost thought I had imagined it; except I was used to seeing that same look of intense longing on Carol and Mary Beth’s face every time they looked Luke and Andrew’s way.
It was my turn to blush as an awareness of Robert as more than Luke’s friend touched me for the first time. Could it be, I wondered? Then Robert was past me and the moment was lost. I promised myself I would be more observant of Robert in the future.
I had never had a boyfriend before, but I had the same hormones as any healthy normal girl of eighteen. Wouldn’t it be nice, I mused, to get my first kiss on my birthday?
One from Robert Simmons would not be unwelcome. –Yeah, like that was going to happen. I had to be misinterpreting the looks he had been giving me. Had his Mom bought something for him to give me that would embarrass him? Could that be the reason for the looks?
The truth was, I intimidated most boys. Some of the boys in school used to even accuse me of being gay. That is, until Luke and Andrew had met up with them at the football field one day after practice. If there were ever any other rumors like that, our family never heard them again.
I couldn’t help it if I had been raised by a man, with only my brothers and their friends for company. I definitely was not gay, I thought to myself. Smiling inwardly, I admired the sway of Robert’s butt as he followed Luke to the picnic tables with his armload of presents.
Calvin’s harrumph of disgust when he passed me, caused me to blush to the roots of my hair. I stuck my tongue out at him and turned back to finish my conversation with Cecil. I had plenty more to say to Cecil Brannan about the justice in Lakahatchee.
Dang it, I missed my chance. Cecil had already moved back into the room and struck up a conversation with Barney and Travis.
Just as well, I supposed, turning back towards the picnic table that held Andrew’s cake and the presents, gift bags, and cards. I would surely have added more time to my community service with my opinions.
Uncle came to stand at the cake table as I sat my cake down next to Andrew’s, waiting patiently for everyone to settle down.
“Ok,” Uncle said gruffly, with his arms around Andrew and me, when most of the conversations had petered out and everyone looked to us expectantly.
“Thank you all for coming and helping me give Andrew and Storm a birthday to remember.”
He hugged us to him a moment, lost in thought as the group murmured appreciatively and clapped their hands. He cleared his throat and continued.
“It’s hard to believe they are eighteen. They’re supposed to be grown now—legally, anyway.” He rolled his eyes, which brought a chuckle from several tables. “If that’s true, though, why do I feel like my job’s not over?” More murmurs, this time of commiseration, was his only answer.
I let my gaze wander over the dozen or so people gathered to celebrate mine and Andrew’s birthday, and felt my throat grow tight. These were the people I cared about. People who cared about me and my family.
Timidly, I let my glance brush Robert, and found him studying me with a look I had to acknowledge as real. I hadn’t misinterpreted anything. I blushed again as hope settled into my heart like the gentle touch of a butterfly’s wing. A future together with Robert glimmered in his steady gray eyes when he looked back at me.
I am not an emotional person, by nature. I use anger most of the time, without even realizing it, to cover my other, more tender, feelings. But it suddenly dawned on me. Lakahatchee was my home. This was where I belonged.
This was the one place in the world I could live in my whole life and not consider it a loss that I knew no other way of life. There was nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here amongst these people. And, as I tore my gaze away from Robert and let it drift around to encompass everyone else, I realized something else.
I was happy. Really, genuinely, happy.
My birthday had turned out to not be so rotten after all.