The Passing Storm by Christine Nolfi

Chapter 25

From the kitchen table, Rae watched the sun dip behind the barn’s roofline. Shadows lengthened toward the house, and the trees where Quinn and Connor worked.

The weather was cooperating. It seemed the only positive development in an upsetting day.

Across the table, Yuna peered over the rim of her cup and out the window. Quinn was high in the sixth tree, a long string of lighting slung over his arm. From the ground, Connor shouted directions.

Yuna lowered her peppermint tea. “It’s amazing how quickly they’re putting up the lights.”

“They were only planning to work on the fourth tree today. Maybe the fifth.”

“At this rate, they’ll finish soon. I can’t wait to see the final result.”

“It’ll be gorgeous,” Rae murmured.

Holding her breath, she watched Quinn climb higher. He was having fun, his features animated, his movements fluid and easy. Like a kid discovering new talents and the confidence that came along with them. He planted his feet on a thick branch. Grinning, he gave Connor a thumbs-up.

“You look like a worried mommy bear,” Yuna teased. “Quinn has great balance. He climbs to the top shelves in my storage room without batting an eye. Relax.”

“I’m concerned he’s overdoing it to make me feel better.” She recalled their conversation this morning. “He knew I was upset when he told me about Lark’s visits with Griffin. The way I lit out of the house in a fury . . . what if I scared him? It’s not like he needs more anxiety.” She sighed. “Not that I do either.”

“That’s not the only reason Quinn’s working hard. You’ve been good to him. This is his way of thanking you.”

“I suppose.”

“Will you tell him about the altercation with Mik?”

“Absolutely not. He’s already scared of his father. More so now that he’s blocked his calls. Telling him that Mik’s livid about the living arrangements . . . Nope. Not a great idea. I did check with the high school principal.”

“You called the high school again? The principal won’t let Penny or Mik on school grounds. Quinn’s a legal adult. They can’t barge into the high school and insist on seeing him.”

Which Rae understood, but she’d been desperate for more reassurance. The look on Mik’s face when he’d confronted her this morning—she’d been frightened. For her own safety, of course. Once she’d arrived at work, she began to understand how much danger Mik posed to his son. What would set off his temper next?

Breaking into her thoughts, Yuna said, “Quinn has stopped parking in front of the craft emporium when he works. I didn’t notice right away.”

A wise choice, in Rae’s estimation. “He’s parking in the alley behind the buildings?”

“Yes, and doing his best to avoid his parents.” Despite the gravity of the situation, Yuna chuckled. “I told him you’d been using the alley to avoid Penny. That might’ve given him the incentive to park there. Whatever works, right?”

“Has Penny been around Chardon Square? Please tell me she hasn’t.”

“Not that I’ve seen. With you and Quinn both staying out of sight, maybe she’s stopped driving in circles around the square. Or she’s landed a new job. With any luck, it’s a job in Mentor or Willoughby—miles away from Chardon. She can only go so long without pulling down a paycheck.”

“She’ll need the money—Griffin made it clear he’ll talk to his father. Mik’s job is gone.”

“Threatening a woman in broad daylight—Mik should lose his job. And I’m thrilled Griffin took him on. Probably the first time anyone in town has ever stood up to him. What I’d give to have watched.”

“He did more than stand up to Mik. I thought they’d come to blows. It was awful.”

“The outcome was good. Griffin came to the rescue.”

“If you’re trying to make me feel better, forget it. Griffin rode in like a white knight after I rammed my car into the planter outside his firm. Oh, and barged into his office screaming. I wouldn’t let him get a word in edgewise. Then I blamed him for a situation he did not set in motion. What’s wrong with me?”

Yuna appeared torn between pity and a bad case of giggles. “Did you chew him out?” For a best friend, she rated top of the class. But the situation was not funny.

“Yes, I did,” Rae admitted. Knowing that her dumber moves tickled Yuna’s funny bone managed to increase her discomfort. Mostly because she never should’ve stormed into Griffin’s office in the first place. A smarter woman would’ve thought it all out first. “Don’t put me on the hot seat. I’m not going there.”

“You don’t have a choice. My life has been reduced to morning sickness and my five-year-old complaining about the ‘mean baby.’ As if a feisty embryo is responsible for the removal of red meat from my household.” Yuna batted her lashes. “C’mon—dish. If I can’t live vicariously through you, what have I got?”

“Thanks, Yuna. Like I’m not embarrassed enough.”

Walking on glass was preferable to divulging the details. That was the problem with anger. After it hoisted your common sense out the window, it made you behave badly.

“I won’t stop teasing until you give up the goods. What did you say to Griffin?”

“I made a complete fool of myself. He, on the other hand, was nothing but decent. He even helped me into my car after he sent Mik packing. As if I hadn’t just read him the riot act. And the way he handled Mik . . . Yuna, I wasn’t even aware Griffin had a temper. When we were young, he never got mad. The biggest rise you’d get out of him was irritation. I thought he was born without the trait that makes someone like me behave stupidly.”

The impish glee faded from Yuna’s features. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. Yes, you can be impulsive. But you didn’t know Lark had found the keepsake. Or that she’d given it to Griffin. If anyone should take the fall, it’s me. I should’ve returned the box right after Griffin gave it to me.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“It seemed best to wait before dropping another bomb on your head. With Penny dumping garbage in front of your office and shouting cuss words whenever she drove by . . .”

“It wasn’t right to hit me up with more bad news?”

“If I’d known Quinn was keeping secrets—and would come clean this morning—I wouldn’t have delayed.”

Yuna’s attention strayed to the center of the table.

The lacquered box caught the sun’s golden light. The tiny rivers of glass sparkled.

Drawing the box near, Rae smoothed her palm across the pleasingly glossy surface. “Lark must’ve found it last summer.” She dimly recalled a sweltering August day—rushing to leave for the office—and Lark trudging out in her pajamas, moody and needing a project to occupy the hours. “Near the end of summer, Lark was incredibly bored. I suggested she spend the day organizing her bedroom for the upcoming school year. Or help Connor with chores around the house. Later, she called me at work—she’d been rummaging around in the attic. I assumed she was sorting through some of my mother’s old things. My dad wasn’t with her. If he’d gone up to keep her company, he would’ve recognized the box.”

“And told her to get your permission before taking it,” Yuna supplied.

“I’m sure she began devising a plan to contact Griffin soon after.”

“You know, this might explain why Katherine has been less than kind toward you. From her perspective, she has good reason.”

“Such as?”

“Rae, she was dating Griffin.”

The news came as a surprise. “When?”

“Last year.”

“How long were they dating?”

“I’m not sure exactly. Not long. But if Lark was bragging to Quinn that she’d found her father, what if she also told Katherine’s daughter, Stella? Or Griffin’s niece?”

Lark was gone, but Rae’s instinct to protect her daughter remained fully intact. “Even if she was bragging to the other girls, why would it matter? Yes, Lark was friends with Stella and Jackie, and she may have told them. But they treated her like a second-class friend. Why would they care if she was bragging?”

“Think about it. If Lark told them while Griffin and Katherine were dating, it might’ve irked Stella. She’s a nice enough girl, but she’s the Queen Bee.”

“All that Thomerson wealth—she’s not used to having competition.”

Yuna nodded. “If Lark announced that Griffin was her father . . . it probably didn’t go down well. Stella wouldn’t have liked another girl boasting about the man dating her mother. It might’ve embarrassed her.”

Dazed, Rae fell back in her chair. “Lark didn’t want to attend the slumber party,” she murmured. She looked up suddenly. “I knew she was on the outs with one of her girlfriends.”

“Lark wouldn’t tell you who she was fighting with?”

The question made Rae shake her head with bemusement. “Wait until Kameko reaches adolescence. There’s lots of stuff your teenage daughter won’t share. You’ll do your best to dredge up the intel on all sorts of issues, but you’ll get nowhere fast.”

Yuna rolled her eyes. “Gosh, I can’t wait.”

“All I knew was that Lark had a falling-out with one of the girls. A disagreement over who-knows-what. Girls that age have the silliest battles.”

“And the way I heard it, Katherine wasn’t happy when Griffin broke it off.” Yuna’s shoulders lifted in a show of unease. “Last year, when I heard they were going out . . . should I have told you?”

“Of course not,” Rae said too quickly. Regret feathered through her, along with the rush of “what if” questions she’d learned to suppress. Pushing them away, she added, “My relationship with Griffin ended in high school. Months before we graduated. I’m not even sure when he left for Ohio University—fast, is what I heard eventually. I guess he spent the summer working down in Athens before starting classes in the fall.”

“You’re sure it doesn’t matter?”

“Yuna, I last dated Griffin sixteen years ago. We’re different people now. This morning I humiliated myself in front of a man who’s basically a stranger. I’m sure he thinks I’m rude and obnoxious.” She picked up her coffee, her emotions in flux—about Griffin, but even more so, Lark. Was it possible she’d argued with Stella over Griffin? The thought made her unexpectedly sad. “I am a dope. This morning I accused him of encouraging my daughter. He hadn’t, obviously. When Lark first showed up in his office, it must’ve thrown him.”

Yuna’s lips pursed. The question she was too courteous to ask floated between them.

Was Lark correct? Was Griffin her father?

She’d never pose the question. For good reason—she was Rae’s dearest friend. Their bond was airtight. And she understood: if Rae had wanted to share the name missing on her daughter’s birth certificate, she would’ve done so before now.

Instead, Yuna appraised the lacquered box with palpable respect. “I didn’t open it. Griffin wasn’t keen about discussing the contents. I can tell you aren’t either.”

“No, I’m not.” Rae took a meager sip of her coffee. “I do need to apologize to Griffin.”

How did one compose an apology that was years overdue? It seemed an impossible task.

“Leave it for now. Griffin won’t think less of you. For whatever the reason, you’ve both gone out of your way to avoid each other. What happened this morning doesn’t change anything.” Yuna offered a comforting smile. “You’re both good people. Lark’s fairy tale no longer matters. It’s best to move on.”

“You’re right.”

“I usually am.”

Rae swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Have I told you today that I love you?”

“You have not.” Affection brimmed on Yuna’s features. “And I love you too.”

“How’s your tummy? I left mouthwash in the guest bathroom, just in case.”

Yuna lifted her cup. “The peppermint tea is doing the trick.” She’d brought along her laptop. Flipping it open, she added, “Kameko’s play date lasts another hour. Since we’ve both knocked off work early, want to tackle another item for the June fundraiser? We still haven’t decided on a theme.”

On the second floor of Marks Auto, his father’s private area was a hawk’s nest overseeing the activity below.

The sales staff, the office staff, the service reps—all were relegated to cubbyholes on the main floor. What those offices lacked in size, they made up for in privacy. They weren’t visible from above.

With two carryout bags in his fist, Griffin strode from the elevator.

The balcony outside his father’s office ran a good length above the showroom below, where a select group of new-model cars and trucks gleamed beneath spotlights. At the circular customer service desk, a young couple was flipping through a Marks Auto brochure on financing options. Near the back of the showroom, behind a nine-foot partition, part of the cafeteria was also visible. Though employees were required to punch in and out for lunch, it hardly mattered. No one lingered for long, not with the boss able to spy from above.

Griffin checked his phone. It was twelve on the dot. Perfect.

Mik entered the lunchroom. After three days of this cat-and-mouse game, the mechanic was no longer caught unawares.

His angry gaze lifted to the balcony. Loathing narrowed Griffin’s eyes.

The staring match lasted for eight seconds before Mik surrendered. Two seconds longer than yesterday, Griffin mused.

Frowning, Mik strode to the cafeteria’s vending machines. He dug cash from his pocket.

From his office, Everett finished barking into the phone. “How long are you going to keep this up?” he shouted.

Griffin strolled inside.

“You tell me, Dad—he’s still here, and you and I had an understanding.” When his father refused to pick up on the comment, Griffin paused before the mahogany desk. He held up the larger of the two carryout bags. “I brought you turkey on rye. If I keep bringing you steak sandwiches, Mom will get after me. There’s also a side of fries. And a fruit cup, if you’re feeling adventurous.”

With irritation his father appraised the bag dropped before his nose. Everett was a large bull of a man, with a potbelly and a ferocious intellect. He liked appearing in the showroom unannounced to watch his minions scatter.

“You don’t need to bring me lunch, short stuff. I have a staff at my beck and call.”

Short stuff.At seventy, Everett stood six foot four. Age had stolen an inch of his height.

Griffin was six two.

“It’s my pleasure,” he said, ignoring the bait.

“You’ve been working across the street for two years now. We never ‘do lunch.’” Everett scratched the white thatch of hair rimming his temples. “Why is that?”

“You know why, Dad. If we make this a habit, I’ll get hooked on antacids. I’m a man in my prime. I shouldn’t have to deal with heartburn.”

“You come over for family dinners. I don’t see you popping antacids.”

“That’s different. You ease off the gas when Mom’s around.”

Superiority glossed Everett’s smile. “You may have a point.” He waved a benevolent hand. “Take a seat.”

Three chairs were arranged before the desk. Hard-backed, steel—they resembled prisoners lined up before a firing squad.

Griffin tossed his bagged lunch on the nearest one. “Hold that thought,” he murmured, falling upon inspiration. A new tactic.

Just to keep things interesting with Mik.

At the balcony, he watched the mechanic tear open a bag of peanuts. Earbuds stuck in his big, square head, his foot tapping along. Griffin drilled him with a hard stare. Mik looked around, starting suddenly when he encountered Griffin’s expression.

Nuts scattered across the floor.

Everett shouted, “Stop badgering him! I told you I’d talk to him, and I did!”

Griffin came back inside. “I didn’t ask you to talk to him. I want Mik fired.” Rustling the bag open, he withdrew his lunch.

Dodging the remark, his father landed his competitive gaze on the container. “What’d you get for yourself?”

“A salad, with ahi tuna.”

“Lettuce is a side dish. A man needs a hearty lunch.”

“And how long have you been taking statins?” When his father shrugged, Griffin switched topics. “What did you tell Mik?” For three days now, he’d been unsuccessful at prying the details loose.

“You first. Why was Rae at your firm on Monday? You never explained. Are you designing a website for the Witt Agency?”

“No.”

Everett smirked. “I know that, short stuff. I called Evelyn Witt to check.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“To see you squirm, I suppose.” With relish, his father bit into the turkey on rye. “The way I hear it, Rae almost rammed the building. The girl who left you in the dust back in high school, aiming her car like a bullet—craziest story I’ve heard in weeks. Why was she fired up?”

“It’s complicated, Dad.”

“Does this complication involve your sister?”

“The two issues are mildly related.”

Griffin speared a chunk of tuna. It was maddening how his father took every conversation hostage.

“According to your mother, Sally’s not speaking to you. Winnie said that’s why you missed our last family dinner.”

How to mend the relationship with his sister still eluded Griffin. Yet after Monday’s events, the falling-out with Sally seemed a minor issue.

Getting back on point, he said, “Let me make this clear. Mik was out of control when he confronted Rae in front of Design Mark. If I hadn’t intervened, he would’ve struck her. Dad, I’m a mature adult. I know when a man is a threat. Give him a severance package, then kick him to the curb.”

“He was mouthing off. Which is bad, I agree.”

Finishing his sandwich, Everett balled up the wrapper. He wasn’t used to anyone telling him what to do. He’d spent a lifetime calling the shots, with no one second-guessing his decisions. But three days of Griffin’s hardball lobbying was wearing him down.

Sensing an opening, Griffin pressed harder. “Mik has a drinking problem. His wife does too. Their homelife is a powder keg, and they aren’t happy about Quinn moving out. You do remember Quinn, don’t you? The little boy who used to spend every Saturday in the service bay because Mik dragged him to work? That kid should’ve been in Little League or horsing around on a playground. You remember, Dad. Mom used to show up at the dealership every Saturday to feed Quinn home-cooked meals and work on his reading skills.”

His father picked at his fries. “I remember.” Falling back in his chair, he began rocking.

“Quinn lives with Rae now. He’s been at her place since February.”

“That’s why Mik’s angry?”

“Correct.”

The chair stopped rocking. Evidently, hearing the whole story gave him pause. Griffin wondered if he’d made a mistake, burying the lede. He should’ve told his father at the outset about Quinn moving into Rae’s place—if only to make him take seriously the threat Mik posed. He hadn’t because the boy’s living arrangements shouldn’t matter. The way Mik had threatened Rae was reason enough to fire him.

The chair groaned as Everett set it back in motion, his expression cooling. Inexplicably, he sent the conversation in a new direction.

“Son, you’ve always been a disappointment. I’ve made my peace with it. I doubt you have a clue how much you’ve passed up, turning down the job as my second-in-command. Marks Auto is worth millions. The most profitable dealership in Geauga County, bar none. In plain English, I can’t make you assume control of my life’s work when I retire.”

The words were a blade, cutting Griffin to the quick.

But he managed to chuckle. “Not even if you beg.”

“Have it your way, smart-ass. I’ll leave the dealership to your sister and Trenton—who closes three sales a month, if he’s lucky. But you’re my son, Griffin. You have an obligation to carry on my name. You can’t do that by starting up again with Rae. She crushed your heart under her boot when she was a kid.”

“Drop it, Dad.”

Everett wasn’t listening; from his standpoint, his expectations were all that mattered. “Rae took off and had a baby on the fly,” he continued, “then dumped that guy too. Oh, there were people who wondered about her pregnancy, especially when she began to show that summer, after your high school graduation. But don’t you worry, Griffin. People knew Everett Marks raised his son right. Everyone in town knew my son would never stick a toe out of line. The Marks family, why, we’re upstanding people. I’m a pillar of the community.”

In anguish, Griffin briefly closed his eyes. He suddenly understood why he’d stopped dating Katherine in a hurry. She’d reminded him of Everett. Outward facing, concerned only with her image. Focused solely on how the world viewed her.

His father wasn’t finished. “I loved Rae back then,” he admitted. “It still tickles me, how a girl could heft a rifle and pick off a target every time. I looked forward to the babies she’d give you. Figured someday I’d have a grandson in the marines or heading a SWAT team. But Rae Langdon is flighty. Take my advice, Griffin. Set your sights elsewhere.”

There was nothing in the monologue worth dignifying. Checking his anger, Griffin came to his feet.

“Listen close, Dad. I’m going to spell it out. Mik isn’t finished with Rae or Quinn. Are you willing to gamble their safety?” Striding around the desk, he towered over his father. “Fire Mik. No one else in the county will take him on—everyone knows he’s not worth it. Let Mik go, and he’ll move someplace else.”

A chill descended between them. Welcoming it, Griffin kept his attention trained on his father. He’d had enough. If Everett made the wrong decision, they were done, over. He’d walk out of his life for good.

A prospect his father clearly sensed as he rubbed his chin with swift, agitated movements. “All right,” he muttered.

“Mik’s gone?”

“At the end of his shift.” Everett snapped up his wrist, checked his watch. “In three hours.”

“Do yourself a favor. Don’t tell him until he’s clocked out.”

Without awaiting a reply, Griffin walked out.