“How about this,” he said. “We’ve got a string of nasty storms moving through the Tulsa area in two days. It’s going to put us on the road again and keep us busy for a while. Can we meetsomewhere tomorrow night? A place of your choosing. We can… chat.”
“Chat?” Was that a euphemism?
“Get to know each other. I don’t know.” He shrugged, looking suddenly as uncomfortable as I felt. “Unless you’d rather forget it. I’ll head home and let you live your life. No one will know what went down between us. We can pretend it never happened.”
“Tomorrow night?”
“Anywhere that you’re comfortable.”
I thought of Dad and all his unspoken suspicions. When he’d found Ozrik at the door earlier, his studious stare told me he had questions. A lot of questions. He no doubt remembered the photograph. I could only guess what he might be thinking, but as was his norm, he didn’t voice his thoughts or ask questions.
At first, I’d refused to meet Ozrik at the door, but Dad wouldn’t take no for an answer.
What would he think if Ozrik returned the following evening?
I internally sighed. “Can we meet here?”
Ozrik’s smile reappeared. He agreed, and we made plans to meet at seven. We walked back to the house in silence, hopped the fence, and rounded to the driveway.
The motion sensor light came on, and Ozrik stopped at the driver’s door to his car, eyeing the Jeep. “Any damage?”
“No, but she needs a bath.”
He chuckled. “Jeeps are meant to be dirty.”
An awkward silence overtook us. Ozrik glanced at the house and then at me. As he traced his tongue over his upper lip, I wondered what he was thinking. “See you tomorrow.”
I watched as he drove down the long driveway and vanished into the night, then I headed inside. Dad was reading a book in his favorite chair in the front room, a chair angled in such a way that he could see out the front window.
He glanced over his reading glasses when I entered. When all I did was stand there, oozing discomfort and wringing my hands, he asked, “Want to talk about it?”
It would have been the perfect time to confess. Standing face to face with my father, I had no doubt in my mind that he knew all I couldn’t say, so why was it so hard to give it a voice? Why, when I felt so alone and afraid, could I not unburden my heart to the one person who had never judged me? Who I knew with absolute certainty would hug me and love me the same as he always had?
I shook my head and motioned to the basement stairs. “I have some work to do.”
“Okay. Good night, kiddo.”
“Good night, Dad.”
“I’ll be here if you change your mind.”
To say I was a wreck the following evening was an understatement. I had no idea what Ozrik expected from me, nor did I know what I could give him in return. I couldn’t think about it for fear I might break out in hives.
When I insisted on an earlier dinner, Dad didn’t object. When I told him I was going out, he didn’t ask where or with whom. When I came from the basement at quarter to seven, showered and dressed in nice jeans and a polo with my hair combed and styled to within an inch of its life and wearing body spray I’d purchased that afternoon at the drugstore, I caught the tail edge of a smile on his lips.
He told me to have a good night and that he wouldn’t wait up.
Mortified, I wanted to balk at the suggestive tone, but I didn’t know where the night would land me, so what could I say? What if I was gone until morning? Before I broke out in a cold sweat and ruined my shirt, I shoved that thought aside.
I wasn’t a deceptive person. The notion of lying to Dad or anyone didn’t sit right. So instead of giving him specifics or defending my honor, I omitted details he would later discover on his own. Like, I wasn’t leaving or taking the Jeep. Thatoutmeant the far reaches of our property and not a bar, restaurant, or motel. Later, when he noticed Ozrik’s car in the driveway, Dad would draw his own conclusions.
I sat on the front porch with my iPad, studying Doppler maps and checking data from other websites: wind direction across the country, temperature ranges, moisture, and all the ingredients required to make a perfect storm. I loved the science behind weather, but the field experience left much to be desired. Although the photography opportunities were a nice bonus.
At Olivia’s request, I’d been monitoring the multiple systems developing over Tulsa that were expected over the coming week. It was officially the season for bad weather and tornadoes, and there was no shortage of activity across the Midwest.
My sister had called that afternoon to inform me that Charles had demanded we join forces with the other team in Tulsa, a fact I had learned from talking to Ozrik the previous day. I didn’t tell Olivia that part, lest she askwhenorwhyI’d been talking to Ozrik. She had a habit of reading my mind, and since finding me on the side of the road the other day in a state, she was already suspicious that something had happened.
Olivia explained to Charles that blending the teams was a recipe for disaster and would cause drama, but drama was exactly what the producer wanted, and since our contracts left Charles with the final say on everything, we had no choice in the matter.
