Before the Storm by Diane Chamberlain Page B
Authors: Diane Chamberlain
Tags: Fiction, Literary, General, Family & Relationships, Psychological fiction, Family Life, People with mental disabilities, Patients, Mothers and Sons, Arson, Fetal Alcohol Syndrome
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door.
Maggie wasn’t kidding about the Hallmark store, I thought
as I walked into Andy’s room. Greeting cards were propped
before the storm
103
up on his desk and dresser and the windowsills. Tacked to the
cork wall he used as his bulletin board, clustered around the
charts Laurel had made to keep him organized. What I Do Before
Going to Bed on a School Night: 1. Brush teeth 2.Wash face 3. Put
completed homework in backpack.4.Pick out clothes to wear to school.
And on and on and on. Laurel was a very patient woman.
Andy was at his computer and he swiveled his chair around
to face me.
“What’s with the cards?” I asked.
“They’re thank-yous.” He stood up and handed me one.
The front was a picture of an artificially elongated dachshund.
Inside it read, I want to extend my thanks. Then a handwritten
note: Andy, you don’t know me, but I live in Rocky Mount and heard
about what you did at the fire and just want you to know I’d want you
around any time I needed help!
He handed me a few others.
“Some are from people I know,” he said as I glanced through
them.“And some are from people I don’t know. And some girls
sent me their pictures.” He grinned, handing me a photograph
he had propped up next to his computer. “Look at this one.”
I did. Yowks. She had to be at least twenty. Long blond hair
and wispy bangs that hung to her eyelashes. She wore a sultry
look and little else. Well, all right, she had on some kind of
skimpy top, but it didn’t cover much. I looked up at Andy and
caught the gleam in his eye. He scared me these days. He used
to see girls as friends, like his little skew-eyed pal, Emily. Now,
he was getting into fights over girls. When did that happen?
His voice was starting to change, too, jarring me every once
in a while with a sudden drop in pitch. Sometimes standing
next to him, I smelled the faint aroma of a man. I bought him
104
diane chamberlain
a stick of deodorant, but he told me Laurel’d already gotten
him one. That was part of the problem. If Laurel would just
talk to me about Andy, we wouldn’t be buying him two sticks
of deodorant. It had to scare her, too, the changes in him. The
temptations he could fall victim to because he wanted to be
one of the guys. By the time I was Andy’s age, I’d been having
sex for two years and drank booze nearly every day. I didn’t
have a disability and I still managed to screw myself up. What
chance did Andy have of surviving his teens?
“How about we fly your kite on the beach today?” I suggested.
“Cool!” Andy never turned me down.
Laurel suddenly appeared in the doorway. She had on her
running shorts and a Save the Loggerheads T-shirt. Her cheeks
were a bright pink. She leaned against the jamb, arms folded,
a white sheet of paper dangling from her hand.“What are y’all
going to do today?” she asked.
“We’re going to fly my kite,” Andy said.
“That’ll be fun,” she said. “Why don’t you go get it? It’s in
the garage on the workbench.”
“I can get it when we leave,” Andy said.
“Get it now, sweetie,” Laurel said. “We should check it and
make sure it’s all in one piece. It’s been a while since you flew
it.”
“Okay.” Andy walked past her and down the stairs.
So Laurel wanted to talk to me without Andy there. A
rarity. I tried to look behind the half smile on her face.
“You won’t believe the e-mail I got this morning,” she said.
“Try me.” I was stoked she wanted to share something with
me. Who cared what it was? She looked down at the paper
before the storm
105
instead of at me. With her head tipped low like that, I could
see that the line of her jaw was starting to lose its sharpness.
To me, she’d always be that pretty eighteen-year-old girl Jamie
brought home so long ago. The girl who played Fur Elise on
my electric piano and who took me seriously when I said I
wanted to play in a band. Who never made me feel
Maggie wasn’t kidding about the Hallmark store, I thought
as I walked into Andy’s room. Greeting cards were propped
before the storm
103
up on his desk and dresser and the windowsills. Tacked to the
cork wall he used as his bulletin board, clustered around the
charts Laurel had made to keep him organized. What I Do Before
Going to Bed on a School Night: 1. Brush teeth 2.Wash face 3. Put
completed homework in backpack.4.Pick out clothes to wear to school.
And on and on and on. Laurel was a very patient woman.
Andy was at his computer and he swiveled his chair around
to face me.
“What’s with the cards?” I asked.
“They’re thank-yous.” He stood up and handed me one.
The front was a picture of an artificially elongated dachshund.
Inside it read, I want to extend my thanks. Then a handwritten
note: Andy, you don’t know me, but I live in Rocky Mount and heard
about what you did at the fire and just want you to know I’d want you
around any time I needed help!
He handed me a few others.
“Some are from people I know,” he said as I glanced through
them.“And some are from people I don’t know. And some girls
sent me their pictures.” He grinned, handing me a photograph
he had propped up next to his computer. “Look at this one.”
I did. Yowks. She had to be at least twenty. Long blond hair
and wispy bangs that hung to her eyelashes. She wore a sultry
look and little else. Well, all right, she had on some kind of
skimpy top, but it didn’t cover much. I looked up at Andy and
caught the gleam in his eye. He scared me these days. He used
to see girls as friends, like his little skew-eyed pal, Emily. Now,
he was getting into fights over girls. When did that happen?
His voice was starting to change, too, jarring me every once
in a while with a sudden drop in pitch. Sometimes standing
next to him, I smelled the faint aroma of a man. I bought him
104
diane chamberlain
a stick of deodorant, but he told me Laurel’d already gotten
him one. That was part of the problem. If Laurel would just
talk to me about Andy, we wouldn’t be buying him two sticks
of deodorant. It had to scare her, too, the changes in him. The
temptations he could fall victim to because he wanted to be
one of the guys. By the time I was Andy’s age, I’d been having
sex for two years and drank booze nearly every day. I didn’t
have a disability and I still managed to screw myself up. What
chance did Andy have of surviving his teens?
“How about we fly your kite on the beach today?” I suggested.
“Cool!” Andy never turned me down.
Laurel suddenly appeared in the doorway. She had on her
running shorts and a Save the Loggerheads T-shirt. Her cheeks
were a bright pink. She leaned against the jamb, arms folded,
a white sheet of paper dangling from her hand.“What are y’all
going to do today?” she asked.
“We’re going to fly my kite,” Andy said.
“That’ll be fun,” she said. “Why don’t you go get it? It’s in
the garage on the workbench.”
“I can get it when we leave,” Andy said.
“Get it now, sweetie,” Laurel said. “We should check it and
make sure it’s all in one piece. It’s been a while since you flew
it.”
“Okay.” Andy walked past her and down the stairs.
So Laurel wanted to talk to me without Andy there. A
rarity. I tried to look behind the half smile on her face.
“You won’t believe the e-mail I got this morning,” she said.
“Try me.” I was stoked she wanted to share something with
me. Who cared what it was? She looked down at the paper
before the storm
105
instead of at me. With her head tipped low like that, I could
see that the line of her jaw was starting to lose its sharpness.
To me, she’d always be that pretty eighteen-year-old girl Jamie
brought home so long ago. The girl who played Fur Elise on
my electric piano and who took me seriously when I said I
wanted to play in a band. Who never made me feel
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