Page 74 of Love What's Left
“Of course, a storm rolled in,” I mutter to myself.
The weather is the equivalent of wearing a belt and suspenders. After this evening’s conversation with McRae about his alcoholism, Dad is already front and center in my mind.I don’t need another reminder.
Standing in front of our bedroom windows, I watch lightning fork across the night sky. The boom of thunder follows immediately.
Shivering, I rub my arms. It’s long past the time we normally turn in, but there’s no way I can get into our bed. If I do, I’ll fall asleep, and the nightmare will come. I can feel it, crouching and ready to pounce.
Of all the memories I lost, I’d have happily tossed my childhood into the abyss. Give me Switzerland with McRae back, dammit. But no. I get to keepthis one.
I close the curtains and turn away, but the sound of rainwater striking the glass continues to assault my ears. Even the humidity reminds me why I promised myself never to get involved with a man like Dad. I betrayed that vow.
McRae enters from the hallway, dressed for bed and carrying a tray containing two mugs, fresh fruit, and a huge bowl of popcorn.
He stops short when he sees me. “The storm is loud.”
I barely nod, but he sees the movement because he responds with a firming of his mouth and a matching head bob of his own. Then, without a word, he heads for the huge walk-in closet. When he doesn’t return after a few minutes, I drift to the open door to peek inside.
Frowning in confusion, I lean against the doorframe and watch as McRae removes the rolled-up foam mattress topper from one of the tall wardrobes. He slides it under a makeshift tent constructed of three flat sheets. Then he pulls out string lights from a drawer and secures them with small clamps to drape inside.
The moment he plugs in the lights, the scene becomes magic, the ivory sheets glowing with warm light. He layers blankets on top of the mattress. Finally, he fills the tent with colorful pillows.
He climbs back out to get the tray of snacks. “Do you want to get Rufus?”
“What is happening right now?”
“Closet camping. We can watch a few movies. We could do an audiobook. Or we could read with music playing until the storm is over.”
To cover the sound.
“Aren’t you tired?” I ask.
“Nah. If I accidentally zonk out though, wake me up if you want company,” he says.
I scan the scene, my chest aching. “I told you about the nightmares?”
“No.”
“I woke you up with my screaming,” I guess.
“Scared the piss out of me the first time,” he admits.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ve returned the favor with a couple of my own.”
“You have bad dreams?”
“They don’t happen often.”
Rufus noses curiously inside and rubs against my ankles.
“Perfect timing. Can you close the door and hit the lights?” he asks.
The rain and thunder muffle to something I could almost ignore when I follow his instructions. McRae climbs into the tent with the tray, and I crawl in after him, my knees sinking into the layers of flannel and foam.
“Would you think I was ridiculous if I wanted to watchHowl’s Moving Castle?” I ask.
He props pillows behind us, then reaches for his tablet. “I love that movie. It’s good when you’re a kid, but it’s even better when you’re an adult.”
