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“You are fine. You can do this. It's just a little storm,” I tell myself as my pulse punctuates my skin at my wrist and my mouth becomes dry. I hear the rain and see the bright flashes of lightning through our thin curtains, and I know that the storm will be sticking around for a while. I need to try and pull myself together. At least until I get to the sofa and curl up into the blanket.
I clear my throat, and slowly start to uncurl my body. Staying on all fours, I slowly crawl my way to the living room. The roof rattles with another thunderous bang, and I immediately cower, my hands covering my head as I squeeze my eyes shut. But it isn’t as loud as the first clap of thunder. I hear it again, before I look up, trying to see in the blackened house.
“Beth!” I hear a shout at the front door and immediately scramble on all fours toward it.
“Beth!” I hear my name again, barely over the loud rain, and I pull away the flimsy curtain at the side of the front door and look through.
Standing tall, in his designer suit, soaked from the rain, is Harrison. His hair is wet and falling down his forehead, and my eyes quickly flick to see his car at the front on the street before I look back at him. His eyes find mine, and I swallow. I am still sitting on the floor, my hands shaking, my heart racing. But I pull myself up and open the door.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, shocked to see it’s really him and not some figment of my crazy imagination.
“It’s storming!” he yells, the water dripping from his face, running down his cheeks as he stands looking at me.
“Harrison, I didn’t…” I start to tell him that it wasn’t my fault today. But I also don’t want to tell him that it was his mother. How heartbreaking it is going to be for him to know his mother would do that. The words get lodged in my throat.
“I don’t care about today. I don't care about anything else. Just you. I just care about you.” I see his eyes pleading with me as the light display from the sky highlights his face.
I watch him for a beat, the rain running down his clothes, soaking him through. Another loud clap of thunder vibrates through the house and in an instant, he is right in front of me. His large frame envelops me, and I bury my head in his chest. He picks me up and walks us through the door, kicking it closed before he takes me into the living room and sits me on the sofa.
“No lights?” he asks, looking around, and I can make out the wrinkle between his eyebrows in dull light from outside.
“Power went out,” I say quietly, as I pull my knees to my chest. My body shakes almost uncontrollably, cold mixed with fear, mixed with anxiety. I pull at my weighted blanket to cover me somewhat, feeling my body giving away to fear right in front of him.
He takes off his wet jacket and throws it over the back of the sofa and sits with me, pulling me to him tightly.
“It’s okay, Beth. Everything will be okay,” he whispers in my ear, hugging me tight. He leans over, grabbing the blanket and throwing it over the both of us, and I curl into him. My hand grips his shirt as his runs up and down my back. My body continues to shake, but I try to control my breathing.
As the thunder and lightning continue their assault, Harrison keeps whispering in my ear, sweet things, the way he cares for me, how glad he is he found me, all the words a girl like me always wanted to hear. He talks for over an hour, through the entire storm, and doesn’t stop until the storm does.
We are quiet for a beat, the only sounds in the room now the light pattering of rain on my tin roof and our breathing. I can hear his heart beating, strong and rhythmically through his chest, the steadiness filling me with his strength.
“We weren’t meant to be in the car the night of the accident…” I say quietly, the words flowing out of me. Harrison remains silent, listening and letting me tell my story.
“It had been sunny all day, warm even. Mom had met some new friends through work, and they invited us to their house for dinner. Mom was very social, always making new friends and Dad and I would tag along, happy to explore and meet new people too.” I swallow, my mouth dry but I continue.
“They were a wealthy family who lived close to D.C., much wealthier than us. I remember their house was big, majestic, like a castle. It was beautiful, nothing like I had ever seen before. They didn’t have children, and I don’t think they liked having me in their home. I remember being scared of them, timid and staying close to my dad,” I whisper, my voice tentative. I haven’t told anyone this story before. I have always kept it close.
Harrison rubs my back, holding me tight and kisses the top of my head.
“We were there for about an hour. My dad was having a few drinks with the husband, my mom was chatting and laughing with the wife, and I sat quietly on their sofa, too scared to move. I remember they had a long dining table, and as dinner got closer, the table started filling up. Not an inch was free. Plates and plates of food were put out, too much for just us. It was a feast.” I hear my voice change a little, the memories of that night now vivid in my mind as I pull on my recollection.
“I stood up and walked over to the table. I just wanted a closer look. All this food, a real-life feast, not one just in my Cinderella books. I wanted to see it with my own eyes. But I shouldn’t have. I should have stayed sitting by myself in the living room.”
I pause for a beat, my heart rate increasing, my palms sweating and my head starting to pound as the recollections thump inside of me.
“What happened?” Harrison whispers, prompting me to continue.
“I stood next to the large table, just looking, I never touched any of it. As I was about to turn and go back to my seat on the sofa, the door from the hallway opened and a large Labrador came bolting through. He took one look at me and ran straight toward me. I never had a dog, so I didn’t know he was friendly. I was scared. I thought he was going to eat me for dinner,” I say, my words starting to come out faster.
“The dog pounced on me, and I screamed, I fell backwards and grabbed the only thing I could so I didn’t fall. The tablecloth. I fell down screaming in fright and the dog jumped on me and started licking my face, but my fist was still curled up tight with the tablecloth and the entire feast came tumbling down on us.”
“My mother was so embarrassed. I was always so clumsy. Always ruining things. Her and my father wrapped me up in my coat and shuffled me out the door quicker than the lightning strikes that had started happening that night.”
“I remember there was lots of yelling when we got into the car. My dad had a few drinks, so my mother drove us home. The weather had turned as nighttime came and it was dark and stormy. The thunder and lightning were both frequent and persistent. The roads were full of water. It wasn’t a long drive, but it seemed like it took forever because she was driving so slow since she couldn’t really see through the thick rain. I remember the windscreen wipers swishing back and forth so quickly it was almost comical. My mother was angry, though. Yelling at me, screaming at me for ruining their night and embarrassing her in front of her new friends. She had warned me before going that I wasn’t to do anything to ruin the night. I tried. I tried so hard to be good. I sat quietly, I used my manners. My mother was furious and berated me all the way home. You know, I can still hear her voice.You ruined everything! I can’t take you anywhere, you embarrassed me and your father.”
“She was really worked up. She was driving, yelling, the rain was pelting down, and the thunder and lightning were scaring me. My dad was trying to talk with her, to get her to calm down and concentrate on the road. It all happened so fast. One minute, I heard her yelling at me, then the next, all I could hear were my screams.”
“You were just a child. It was not your fault,” Harrisons says, his words ricocheting off the metal shell I imagine that is protecting me at the moment.
