Page 19 of Through the Storms

“Fuck it.” Oakley threw the quarter across the room, and it bounced off her closed office door.

Mature.

She stood and stretched while she scanned the floor looking for the quarter that she intended on blaming for her outburst. Her initial scan turned up nothing, so she knelt. She could just leave it, but the thought made her cringe. It would feel as if she’d left something undone.

She slid her hand under the bookcase next to the door, and her fingers passed over the cold metal. She swept the coin into her hand, glanced at it, and laughed.A sign?She doubted there would be many powerful tornadoes in California to chase. She pocketed the commemorative state quarter and walked back to her desk.

When she plopped back into her chair, all the life drained out of her. She was exhausted. Part of her wanted to cry, but Britt had wrung all the tears out of her earlier.

She looked back at the two weather systems on her computer screen, and inspiration struck. Oakley grabbed her cellphone before she could convince herself it was a bad idea.

“Hello.” Lana answered on the first ring.

Good sign or bad? Oakley wasn’t sure, but just hearing Lana’s voice caused her mood to brighten. “Hi.”

An awkward silence lay between them, so Oakley continued. “Um, I was hoping you could help me.”

“Help you? With what?” Lana’s voice sounded more puzzled than angry. Another good sign?

“I’ve been studying the maps, and I’m trying to figure out which way to go.”

“And you called me?” Now Oakley detected a hint of irritation.

“Yeah.” Oakley didn’t want this to go sideways. “Plus, I just wanted—no, needed—to hear your voice.”

A loud sigh came from Lana’s end of the phone. Was she as tired as Oakley felt?

“I’m sorry. God, I am so sorry,” Oakley blurted out before Lana could respond. “I’m a wreck. I can’t lose you.”

“Oakley, just stop and breathe. We can’t do this on the phone.”

“Do you want me to come home?”

There was a long pause. “No. I think we both need a little space. Time to think.”

The words were like a gut punch. What did Lana mean? “I don’t want time away from you.”

Lana let out a half snort. “We’re apart most of tornado season, so it won’t be anything unusual.”

“But remember back in the day, the chases we made together?” Oakley asked, hoping it would spark something in Lana.

“I remember.” Lana’s voice was low. “But that was a million years ago.”

“Tell me what you want from me,” Oakley said.

“Do you really have to ask?”

“I guess I do because I seem to keep screwing it up.”

“No, you don’t get to play the martyr.”

Oakley bit back her anger. She couldn’t handle another fight with Lana, especially right before she left for the week. No way could she concentrate on her job. “I’m not trying to be a martyr.” Oakley kept her voice low. “We used to be on the same page, but it doesn’t seem that we are anymore. Something’s changed. Can you please tell me what it is you want?”

“Did you pay attention to a word I said earlier?” Lana snapped.

“Of course I did.”

“I don’t think so, or you wouldn’t have to ask me what I want.”