Page 18 of Chasing the Other Woman

He didn’t.

Before I’d met Brooks, I was certain that’s how love went. A quick wash of interest followed by a steep hill that led to disappointment.

Then he walked into the bar. I’m a Ramblin’ Man by Waylon Jennings was playing. I made a note never to forget that because, just like when a supercell makes that first hard right turn, I knew that man was gonna change my life forever, whether I wanted him to or not.

I didn’t know yet that he was an amateur storm chaser. That would have been too much for my brain to comprehend all at once. I just knew that looking at him made me feel alive.

When I arrive at The Funnel Cloud, it’s too early for the neon sign to be lit. I drove through the night, calling her on the way and probably sounding so lost that I made little sense. But Petra has been interpreting my chaotic gibberish since we were in fifth grade and flunking math together as if we’d made a pact.

She doesn’t even give me time to knock on the door. Just opens the door, pulls me in, and locks it behind us.

Then I’m in her arms with her hand rubbing slow circles on my back.

“You scared the hell out of me on that phone,” she says, and that’s all it takes. The sobs that follow are the kind that would break anyone’s heart. Luckily, mine’s already gone.

Petra just holds me, murmurings of I’ve got you and Just let it out breaking the quiet. When the crying finally stops and my throat is raw, she guides me over to one of the scratched booths in the back.

“Guest room’s already made up,” she says. “You can shower, then sleep. Later, we can figure out how to make him miserable, but for now, shower and sleep. Then food.”

She doesn’t ask for the full story yet, which is good because I don’t think I could stand telling her. Don’t think I could stand repeating those words.

I don’t want you in that truck with me! Is that what you want to hear, Sam? I’d rather it be Luci in the truck with me!

I close my eyes, as if that can exorcise the memory of those words from my mind. When I open them, Petra’s watching me with that all-too-knowing look. I’d say it was her Mom stare, but she’s always been able to look right through me.

“Tom at school?” I ask, because I’ve got nothing better to talk about.

“He has one month before summer break. Then he’s out. You know he’s going to pepper you with storm questions.”

“I can’t wait. It’d be nice to have someone who actually wants to listen to what I have to say.”

Petra’s mouth pulls in that little tight way it does when she wants to say something but is thinking better of it.

“Well, he’ll give you plenty of room.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I should ignore it.

I don’t.

Petra watches me pull it out, but she doesn’t try to stop me from reading the text.

Brooks:

We need to talk.

One sentence that could mean so many things. We need to talk about you leaving. We need to talk about what we’re going to do with your stuff now that you’re gone.

The phone buzzes again.

Brooks:

Leaving like this isn’t going to fix it.

I huff and toss the phone onto the table. I want to be mad. Instead, I’m just hurt.

Petra, never having a sense of boundaries when it comes to me, picks up the phone and reads the texts.

“Bold choice. But can’t say unexpected coming from a man with two working brain cells and both of them on vacation.”