We fall into a bit of a routine as the days go by.  I get to the shop early, as usual and Tom usually will show up around 8 or 9 after his run.  I feed him coffee and pastries, and he sticks around for a bit to harmlessly flirt with Mandy and annoy me.  Then, he goes off to do whatever it is he does, and I finish up at the bakery.  We meet up for dinner every night and then usually spend the rest of the evening watching movies or sitting up on the widow’s walk talking.  It’s nice.  It’s really nice.  Having him around has made Maryland seem strangely tolerable, even pleasant.  It’s also forced me to work a little less, since he can be pretty persuasive about getting me to leave at a decent hour.

The last few days have been strange, since a cold front has moved through the area.  It was nice at first, but now it’s gotten to the point where everyone has taken to wearing jeans and light sweaters despite the fact that it is early June.  It’s the only thing anyone in town seems to be able to talk about, and I can’t count the number of times I’ve said “crazy weather, isn’t it?!” to a bemused customer.  The weather has gotten increasingly worrisome over the last 24 hours, and everyone in town seems to be a buzz with hurricane warnings.  It’s windy, gray and the sky looks as if it is ready to burst any moment.

“People are really freaking out.” Mandy pulls a heather gray cardigan around her body and starts pulling cookies from the bake case, wrapping them up for tomorrow.  I glance outside, and I can see most of Main Street.  It’s surprisingly busy, but mostly because people are starting to close up their stores, stack up sand bags and prepare for the storm.  It’s been awhile since we’ve been hit really hard by bad weather and apparently it is well overdue.  Tiny coastal towns like this are usually pretty prepared for this sort of thing, but it means a lot of scrambling beforehand.  I just keep picturing a scene out of The Perfect Storm, and it is sort of freaking me out.

“You should go home, Mandy.  I can close up.” I walk up to the windows, gazing outside.

“I can’t leave you! We need to close the windows.” She comes up next to me and we stand in silence for a few minutes, watching people outside.  It hasn’t started raining, but it is pretty much inevitable.

“Should we just close the shutters? Or actually board them up?” I ask nervously, glancing at her.  She frowns and takes a step back.

“Some people are putting plywood over the windows.  Do we have any plywood? Want me to call Marcus? He can come help us.” She is already pulling out her phone and pressing buttons.  I pride myself in being pretty independent, but I’m not all that thrilled at the idea of nailing wood to the building, so I let her call her knight in shining armor.  I move back to the bake case, and finish wrapping up the food while she calls.

We have a little television in the back and it’s turned to a weather channel.  I can hear the forecaster droning on and on about the storm and how it’s about to hit.  They haven’t stopped talking about it for at least a few days, and the fervor has only gotten worse.  It’s ominous and all the chatter is making me a bit on edge. 

I go into the back and flip off the TV.  If I hear talk of ‘Hurricane Arthur tearing its way up the East Coast’ any more, I’ll go insane. I just need to focus on getting the store closed up and then getting home to make sure everything is secure at the cottage. 

I hear some commotion in the front of the store as I close the door to the office.  The front door opens and closes and there’s a lot of banging about.  I walk out to find Tom standing in the front, his arms full of bags.

“Hi there.” I squint at him.  He’s quite a sight.  I lean against the door jamb, taking him in. He looks wind blown and a bit red faced, like he’s been running a marathon. His wavy hair is crazy and messy and I can tell he must have been outside most of the day.  Tom reaches up, pushing a hand through his hair and looking at me with an apologetic grin on his face.  He’s always a bit worried about his hair, even though it never looks bad.  I scrunch my nose at him, hoping he thinks it looks terrible, just to get on his nerves.  He sighs and plays with the zipper on the black hoodie he’s wearing.

“Hello.” He grins at me and sets the bags down on the floor, right in the middle of the shop.

“Go shopping?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

“It’s a mad house out there.  People are really concerned about this storm.  Is it going to be that bad?” He asks, walking behind the counter and gazing into the empty bake case. He’s disappointed when he sees it’s empty. I smile, shake my head and then point toward the plastic containers full of leftover goods.  He grins and opens it up.

“It sounds like it might be pretty bad.” Mandy interjects.  She has been standing in the corner, staring at Tom, and not really making any noises.  I watch as Tom looks at her, a cookie half way to his mouth.

“Mandy! Hello.” He grins and Mandy shoves both of her hands into her pockets as she blushes.  She still hasn’t quite gotten used to him being around.  It’s cute, really.

“Hi, Tom.” She pushes her dark hair from her face and then sits down at one of the two tops.

“Do you girls need any help? I’ve just bought loads of supplies.” He leans against the counter and crosses one long leg over the other.

“What kind of supplies?” I ask.  I walk over to the bags he dumped in the middle of the floor, and I take a look.  Candles, matches, flashlights, food, a lot of candy and some RedBox rentals.  I dig around a bit more and pull out a rectangular box.

“Hobnobs, Tom?” I shoot him a disapproving look.

“Just necessities.” He flashes me a smile and I shake my head.  He is obsessed with these cookies.  He likes them more than some of the stuff I make.

“We need to close up the shop and then we can go.” I say.  Tom claps his hands together and leans forward, ready for action.  He’s adorable, really.  He’s excited about this storm like it’s a day off school.  I would be too if I weren’t alternately worried about the shop flooding or the cottage getting blown away.

Just as we start outside, a pickup truck pulls up in front of the shop, and parks along the street.  A tall, good looking guy with wavy blond hair steps out and Mandy goes running over to him. Marcus.

“Baby!” She squeals, jumping into his arms as if they haven’t seen each other in years. 

“Dollface.” Marcus picks her up, twirls her around like some sort of toddler, and then they start making out.  I scrunch up my face and look at Tom, who is looking at me with a funny look on his face.

“Dollface.” He says softly in a pretty spot on American accent, mocking Marcus somewhat, but mostly just trying to make me laugh.  I bump into his side and he gives me a squeeze.  The wind picks up, gusting cold and hard, making the trees that line the street shake and bend under the force.  Tom puts his hood up, raising his shoulders up to his ears.

“Charlie, this is Marcus.” Mandy stops trying to memorize Marcus’ face with her tongue long enough to introduce us.  Marcus is very cute, with a sort of surfer dude look that is surprising to me.  I was picturing more rocker guy, and he’s definitely more Jack Johnson.  He’s dressed in jeans and a hoodie, and he has a super friendly smile.

“Hey Charlie.  Good to meet you.  Love those damn lemon bars you make.” Marcus shakes my hand and I get a good vibe from him, and not just because he loves the lemon bars.  Everyone loves the lemon bars.  Tom once swore he was going to marry one, but I talked him out of it. (We were also a little drunk when he swore he was going to marry a dessert).

“Good to finally meet you too.  I’ve heard a lot.  And seen a lot.” I raise an eyebrow, and Marcus looks at Mandy nervously.  We both laugh and I shrug.

“Don’t worry baby, just good stuff.  I showed her pictures of your band.” Mandy squeezes Marcus’ arm and I can tell she is head over heels for this guy.  Arse over tit. I feel a little tinge of something, deep in my chest.  I’m not totally sure what it is.  Not jealousy, because I love Mandy and am thrilled for her.  Okay, maybe it is a little jealousy.  I don’t want Marcus.  No, Jack Johnson’s not really my type.  But I miss that look he’s giving her.  I’m not the sort to squeal and run into a guy’s arms, but if I were, I’d miss that too.

“And Marcus, this is Tom.  Charlie’s best friend.” Mandy introduces Tom, who has walked over after sliding the shutters over the front of the main windows.

“Oh hey, man! Mandy hasn’t shut up about you, man.  Love your movies.” Marcus shakes Tom’s hand, and slaps him on the back.  Tom grins.

“Thank you, that’s really kind.”

“I have not been talking about him!” Mandy whispers loudly into Marcus’ ear.  Tom laughs and shrugs good naturedly.

We stand around outside for a few minutes talking and catching up before a loud crash of thunder gets all of our attentions.  The thunder seems to catapult the boys into action.  Marcus scrambles over to his truck and pulls out a few sheets of plywood, and then Tom is helping him put it up and over the windows to the shop.  Mandy and I stand back, watching.  Mandy’s eyes don’t leave Marcus.  My eyes don’t leave Tom.

He and Marcus seem to get along pretty well, and they are laughing as they help each other nail the wood to the building.  Tom keeps reaching up to hold the sheet, and the hem of his shirt and hoodie go with his long arms, exposing that same sliver of bare skin that I saw from the other night.  I swallow and look away, moving slightly so my back is to the gusting wind.

“Are you and Tom going to stay at the cottage together?” Mandy asks quietly so only I can hear.  I hadn’t really thought about it.  It would be nice to get stormed in with some company.  I’m definitely not getting stormed in at the Oyster.  And ever since Tom got me my amazing new bed, I don’t mind ending the night at the hobbit hole.

“Maybe.” I shrug.  Mandy’s eyes are glowing and I huff at her, then push her gently on the arm.  She laughs and turns back to watch the boys work.  They’re almost finished, so I make my way back into the shop to gather my things.  The storm seems like it is right around the corner, and I want to get back to the cottage quickly.

I grab my bag and scoop up all the random crap Tom purchased.  I hope he bought some actual food or we are going to be starving later.  Though I think I have some frozen pizzas at home.  I bring all our stuff outside, and get ready to lock the door behind me.  I feel the need to yell at Tom for buying so much candy and not enough real food, when I am stopped in my tracks.

Marcus, Mandy and Tom are all standing in a little semi-circle talking.  Another person has joined the group, and it’s not someone that I would ever, ever want talking to Tom.  Or to Mandy. Or to Marcus.  In fact, I wish this man were just mute and possibly dead.

Chase is standing with his arms crossed, his stance wide as he speaks to Mandy.  She looks supremely uncomfortable and is standing almost with her back to Chase.  Both Marcus and Tom are just staring at Chase, their expressions unreadable.  My heart picks up a bit faster, and I feel my palms start to sweat.  I want to drop the bags in my arms and just haul ass back into the store, but Tom has already spotted me.  He doesn’t call me over, or even say anything to me.  He just looks at me.  His eyes are sort of intense, and a blue that matches the stormy sky.  Although Mandy and Chase seem to be talking, he’s not looking at either of them.  He’s just watching me, questioningly.  I want to act normal, but I’m not sure that’s an option at the moment.  I turn quickly and drop the bags on the sidewalk so I can find my keys to lock the door.  A second later, I feel someone touch my elbow.  I spin around, ready to knee or elbow someone (Chase) in the groin if necessary.

“Easy.” Tom says with a little laugh.  I crash into him, bumping my nose and chin into his chest.  He steadies me with his hands on my forearms.

“Sorry.” I mumble. I can see Chase out of the corner of my eye and he’s looking at me now.  Ever watch one of those nature shows, where a gazelle is just minding it’s own business, drinking out of the water hole and then all the sudden it just perks up?  It knows something is watching it.  Something terrible and angry and hurtful.  A hungry lion waiting just outside their periphery.  Yes, that is me. I am the gazelle.  Chase is the lion.  I feel panicked all over, and I want so badly just to disappear.

“Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Tom asks, his voice low.  He’s smiling, but his eyes look worried.  I look up at him, and I can’t speak.  I just look at him for a second. 

“Charlotte.  Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” If we keep going with the lion/gazelle thing, then the sound of Chase’s voice makes me want to start leaping away at full speed like a frightened gazelle, ready to poo it’s metaphorical pants.  I turn quickly and face Chase, who has made his way over.  He’s wearing aviators, despite the crappy weather, and I can see my reflection in them.  I look pissed and, to my dismay, a little scared.  I press my lips together.  I can feel Tom standing right behind me, his arm bumping ever so slightly into the back of mine.  It makes me feel a bit better, but not much.

“No, we were just leaving.” I say quickly, and I turn to grab the bags on the pavement.  Tom is watching me still, and no one is speaking.  He helps me pick up the bags.

“Charlie.  We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Mandy says, and I can tell she is upset.  I don’t want her feeling bad for me, or worrying about me, so I look at her and smile brightly.  I can only imagine what Chase was saying to them before I came outside.

“Yup! I’ll call you if the storm gets too bad and I end up closing the bakery for the day.  Nice meeting you, Marcus!” I say, forcing some cheer into my voice.  Chase is still standing a few feet away, his meaty arms crossed over his chest.  He’s just watching me.

“Nice meeting you too, Charlie.” Marcus waves at me then looks at Tom and smiles. “Tom, see you around.” He and Mandy slowly walk to his truck.  Mandy keeps glancing back, and I can tell she doesn’t want to leave but isn’t sure what to do.  They get into the truck, but they don’t drive away.

“Let’s go, Tom.” I say, ignoring Chase.  Tom hesitates for a split second.  My poor Tom.  Always so polite and sweet, doesn’t know how to handle the fact that I’m pretending Chase doesn’t exist.  He is totally loyal though, and he follows me as I walk away.

“You’re not fooling anyone, Charlotte.” Chase says angrily as I walk by.  I feel my heart in my throat, the hair at the back of my neck stand on end. 

“What does that mean?” I say, hating myself for taking the bait.  Chase sneers and spits on the sidewalk.

“He’ll see you’re fucking worthless.” Chase nods toward Tom.  Tom drops the bags he’s holding on the ground and takes a step forward.

“Hey, mate. Watch it.” Tom’s voice is calm and low, and I give him major points for sticking up for me.  But I don’t want this to turn into a fight or a scene.  I just want to be home, eating cheetos and watching bad movies with Tom.

“No, mate. You watch it.” Chase takes a half step forward, but then he pauses.  He looks at me strangely, and then he starts laughing.  Really laughing.  A loud clap of thunder sounds from above, and I swear I have a soundtrack to my life. 

“He doesn’t know, does he?” Chase laughs, pointing at me.  I swallow hard, and look at Tom, who looks confused. My heart is about to leap out of my mouth.

“Leave me alone, Chase.” I say.  My voice shakes and I hate myself for a split second.

 “Oh fuck, Charlotte.  You’re a piece of work.” Chase shakes his head.  I feel Tom put a hand at the small of my back.

“Let’s go, Charlie.” Tom says into my ear, picking up the bags again. I nod, and we start walking quickly down the sidewalk.  Chase is right there with us, taking bit strides to keep pace with us. 

“Dude, do you know who I am?!” Chase yells.  Tom ignores him, but it’s hard when Chase is right at my side, nearly screaming in my face.  I flinch, feeling the hot air escape from Chase’s wide open mouth.  Tom stops and turns around, his jaw set and his eyes angry.  Chase stops a few feet away, and he’s still laughing.  I grab Tom’s arm, a silent plea to just keep walking.

“Who are you?” Tom asks, his voice steel.

“I’m her fucking husband, asshole.” Chase says, sounding beyond pleased.  I feel my stomach roll, and then, as if on cue, the sky opens up and it starts to pour.