Chapter 33 Present
By the time Mom strolled into the kitchen, Dad and I were still sitting at the table—already working on the second pot of coffee. The storm clearly had a different effect on her—she looked well-rested and completely unbothered, like she’d just woken up from the best nap of her life.
Dad and I shot each other a look and then let out a laugh—Mom didn’t get the joke, but it didn’t matter to her. She could tell something had shifted.
She glanced between the two of us, eyebrows lifting just a little. Her eyes softened as she gave a knowing look, the kind that said, Okay… this is good.
I left the two of them laughing over the comics while I headed upstairs to get ready.
I changed out of my pajamas and into some jeans and a blue-and-white button-up. Nothing fancy—just something comfortable enough to sit through interviews in. I ran a brush through my hair and tied it back. The rain would just wash it away, so I didn’t even bother with makeup.
I tossed my notebook and a couple of pens into my bag. Checked the tape recorder for fresh batteries and a blank cassette. I slipped an extra one in just in case. Mrs. Betty could probably fill a whole tape on her own.
I wasn’t anticipating a typhoon when I packed for this trip, so I dug through the closet and found my old light blue rain jacket. It smelled a little stale, but it would get the job done.
No rain boots—but my Keds had seen worse. I slipped them on and sat on the edge of the bed while I laced them up.
The trees rocking back and forth caught my attention, so I paused for a second to watch the storm—rain was coming down sideways, the kind that soaks you the second you step outside.
I let out a long exhale.
I knew the day had the potential to wear me down. I just hoped the interviews wouldn’t turn into their own kind of natural disaster.
Zipped up my jacket—a little snugger than I remembered—slung my bag over my shoulder, and headed for the door.
Outside on the porch, the wind was whipping, and the rain was relentless.
I hesitated, it was now or never—if I didn’t take the first step, I probably wouldn’t go at all.
I sucked in the charged air around me, pulled my hood up, and made a run for it.
I reached the car just as a streak of lightning tore across the sky.
Climbing in, I tossed my bag onto the passenger seat, started the engine, and braced myself for the road ahead.