The Storm

I glance over my shoulder and see Stuart walking toward us, with Bob, and then, JJ and Billy are coming out, too.

Bob moved into Stuart’s old place on the grounds. He wouldn’t move into the house. He said we didn’t need an old man cramping our style. But he’s still in our house more than his own, and the kids love having him here.

So do I.

I realize now that I should have talked him into moving here after Lyn had passed. I failed then. I won’t make that mistake again.

And I intend on not making any mistakes with Storm, now that I have him here.

I pick up Belle and gesture for JJ and Billy to come over.

“Storm, Tiffany, and Marie.” I point to each of them, so my kids know who they are. “These are my kids—JJ”—I pat his head beside me—“Billy”—I touch his shoulder—“and Belle, the monkey in my arms.”

“Not monkey.” Belle scowls at me and then wriggles out of my arms to be put down.

I put her on her feet, and she walks over to Storm. She stares at him, and he watches her.

With fascination, I keep my eyes on Belle’s curious face.

When she stops before him, he crouches down to eye-level with her.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“You like pwincesses?” she asks him.

“Answer carefully,” Tru says with a touch of humor in her voice. “Your entire existence might depend on this.”

Storm smiles up at Tru and then looks back to Belle, still smiling. “I think princesses are the best things ever.”

Belle beams at him. “Wanna play pwincesses with me?”

“’Course he doesn’t wanna play princesses with you.” Billy goes over to them. “He’s a boy. Boys don’t like princesses.”

“They do, too.” Belle scowls at Billy.

“I got a guitar,” Billy tells Storm. “My dad’s helping me learn how to play.”

“I play guitar,” Storm says.

“Cool.”

“My dad has a studio in the house,” JJ pipes up from beside me. “You wanna come see?”

Storm glances over at him and smiles. “Sure.”

He stands, and then Belle reaches up and grabs his hand. I see the surprise on his face as he stares down at her.

Then, he glances over at Tiffany.

I look at her, too. I see the emotion in her eyes, and then she gives him a gentle nod, telling him to go on ahead.

I watch as Belle leads Storm into my house, Billy and JJ with them. All three of them start firing off questions at Storm.

“Kids make life seem so easy,” Bob says from behind me.

“Yeah, they do,” I say, turning to him.

“I made coffee,” Stuart tells me.

That’s his way of saying I should invite my guests in.

I turn back to Tru, who is quietly chatting with Tiffany and Marie.

“Stuart made coffee,” I tell them.

I let everyone pass me, heading into the house. I hang back, catching Tru’s hand, as she passes. I slide my arm around her waist.

“You okay?” I ask her. “I know that couldn’t have been easy for you.”

“I’m fine.” She turns her body into mine, wrapping her arms around me. “How are you?”

“Okay,” I say. And I really am. I will always be okay, so long as I have her.

I lean down and brush my lips over hers. “Thank you.”

“For?” she whispers against my mouth.

“For just being you. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now, let’s get in there and save poor Storm before Belle has him married off to one of her princess dolls.” Tru laughs.

And it’s in this moment, I just know that everything is going to be okay.

Everything will work out as it should.

Two Months Later

Storm and I are sitting on some chairs in the corridor, out by Tiffany’s room. The doctor is in with her.

Tiffany isn’t doing well at all. She’s been deteriorating rapidly these past few weeks. I don’t think she has much longer left.

I arranged for Tiffany to see the best doctors LA had to offer, and they took over her treatment.

But her cancer is too advanced. There’s nothing anyone can do for her, except to make her as comfortable as possible.

A week ago, Tiffany had to be moved into the hospital permanently, as she now needs round-the-clock care, and her doctor advised this was the best place for her.

So, Storm has been living with Marie at their house.

I want him to move in with us now, but I don’t want to push it even though we’ve been getting closer recently.

Bob, Tom, Denny, and I have been spending a lot of time with Storm. We want him to feel like he’s a part of the family. And I think we’re getting there.

My kids love Storm. From that first moment they met him, it was like they’d always known him.

He’s been building a real bond with them. It’s amazing to see.

Tru has been incredible. She’s been spending time with Tiffany, getting to know her better. I know that couldn’t have been easy for her. She did it for me but more for Storm.

He loves her. I can see it in the way he looks at her. And Tru loves him right back.

They’ve developed a great friendship. More so recently, as Tiffany has been deteriorating, he’s been turning to Tru when he wants to talk.

I’m so fucking lucky to have Tru.

When I think about what’s happening to Tiffany and how I came so close to losing Tru after her accident, it makes me hold her for that much longer, makes me tell her how much I love her so many more times.

I know how fortunate I am to have her here with me. And I will never take that for granted for one second.

“How you doing?” I ask Storm, who’s staring intently at his cell, playing on some game.

He’s been quieter lately, which isn’t surprising. He’s had a lot of changes in his life.

A new city. A new school.

His mother’s illness getting worse.

I can’t even imagine how hard it is for him at the moment.

Storm doesn’t get a chance to answer as a shadow falls over us, and I look up to see Tiffany’s doctor, Dr. Munson, standing before us.

“Jake, can I have a word?”

“Sure.” Getting up, I tell Storm, “I’ll only be a minute.”

I follow Dr. Munson a little farther down the corridor until we’re a ways from Storm.

“There’s no easy way to say this…” He folds his arms over his chest. “The new drugs we put Tiffany on aren’t helping her anymore.”

I blow out a breath. “How long?”

“A week—at the most.”

“Hell.” I close my eyes on a blink as I blow out a breath, my mind immediately going to that kid sitting down the hall.

Even though we knew this was coming, it doesn’t make it any easier to hear.

“Tiffany has asked to see you—alone,” he emphasizes, his eyes moving to look at Storm.

I get the message loud and clear. Don’t tell Storm anything.

“Okay.” I leave Dr. Munson, and I walk back over to Storm.

His eyes lift from his phone to me as I approach.

“I’m just gonna go in and see your mom, alone, for a minute. Then, I’ll come get you. Okay?”