A Stormi Night - illustrated
Copyright© 2022 by Creepy Uncle Pete
Chapter 6
When I opened my front door, my lover and oldest niece Stormi dropped a cigarette butt at the top of the painted wood steps. She crushed it out, then turned away from me and exhaled a long stream of smoke. “Mom said she would call you?”
I nodded and answered, “I just talked to her. She says I can’t let you drink or smoke anymore.” I was happy to see her, and even happier that she wore a short and sleeveless leather top. It clung to her chest and left most of her abdomen exposed.
“She said I’d be healthier if I don’t smoke, but nothing about me quitting soon. Can I get a beer? I noticed my period cramps aren’t as bad when I drink.”
“Stormi, I love you, but no. She’ll pay your college tuition, but only if you quit smoking and drinking.”
“That’s not what she said! Don’t you trust me? GAWD!”
“Sorry, but this is important.” I took my cell from my pocket and tapped ‘callback’. “Hey, Helen, Stormi and I were wondering...”
My niece loudly objected, “You don’t trust me! You don’t love me! Then FUCK YOU!” She stomped down the stairs. Her parents’ house was southwest of mine, but she jogged north along the sidewalk.
I moved the phone away from my face and called out, “Wait! Whoa! Where are you going?”
It hurt intensely when she held up her middle finger and yelled, “I’ll be at my friend Jackie’s, if you decide you give a shit! Asshole!”
“Stormi, I’m sorry! Wait!” She turned right at the end of the block and ran out of sight. I felt tears welling up at the corners of my eyes and tried to stop them. On my phone, her mother repeatedly asked, “Hello? Hello?”
I moved it back to my ear. “Yeah, Helen?”
“If that’s all it took to split you up, you two had no business being together.”
I became suspicious and angry. I asked, “Did you tell her something different than you told me?”
“If a sentence or two from another person is all it takes to blow up your relationship, it’s not real love, not even close.”
I was suddenly furious. “You manipulative CUNT!” I hung up on her and tried calling Stormi.
I tried five more times over the next few hours, but she didn’t answer me. I typed up a long text message apology, changed my mind, and deleted it. I immediately changed my mind again, wrote another, and deleted that too.
Eventually I sent her, “Stormi, I’m so very sorry. I love you! I love you more than words can say! Please come back, or at least call and let me know you’re okay? If your mom won’t help you pay for college, I will. It’s okay if you drink here sometimes. I don’t like smoking, but I’ll keep buying you cigarettes and you can smoke here if you want. Please at least call me? I’m so sorry! I love you so very much, Sweetness.”
At ten o’clock I decided I should go to bed, since I had to work in the morning. On the way I heard the microwave beeping. My TV dinner was room temperature and didn’t look appealing at all. I tossed it out and ate a quick sandwich.