Weather or Not

WEATHER OR NOT

Kara pulled a plastic bag over the cast on her lower leg, fastened it with rubber bands, and hobbled over to the coat rack to ferret out her yellow rain slicker. She awkwardly swung between her crutches toward the French doors in the kitchen.

Her family had been volunteer observers for the National Weather Service since 1941. They had never missed a reading, and she wasn’t about to break that tradition. 

She paused at the doors when Sadie, her calico cat, reared up out of a sound sleep to pat at some leaves skidding past the window seat’s glass. 

The trees in Kara’s yard whipped in the high winds and heavy rain, the tail end of a hurricane that had arrived around noon. The aged, dancing maples marked a friendly boundary between her property and her neighbor’s, Joshua Field. Josh had been doing the rain gauge readings for her since she broke her ankle two weeks ago. Now, the 6:00 p.m. precipitation check was due, the rain gauge was in the middle of her soggy backyard, and Josh wasn’t there.

Kara reached for the door locks. Two things happened in the next moment: the power cut out, plunging the room into murky twilight, and a menacing figure in a dark raincoat loomed on the other side of the glass. With a cry, she staggered back, recognizing Josh when he pushed back his hood.

She unlocked the doors and he stepped inside. “Sorry I scared you, Kara. I barely made it home. There’s flooding in the low-lying areas and all the phone services are out. Are you okay?”

She glared at her childhood nemesis and friend. “I was fine until you scared me spitless.”

The dark hood standing up behind his head framed his thick, light brown hair, prime finger-walking territory. “We’re bound to lose power soon and the temperature’s dropping like a rock.”

“The power just went out.” From experience, she handled Josh carefully. Her old playmate was accident-prone, and she had the scars to prove it.

He looked at the plastic bag on her cast. “I knew you’d try to take the reading, but you should have known I’d be here, weather or not. I’ll do it.”

“Thanks, Josh, that would be great.” 

He’d been helping her take readings since she became her mother’s backup at 13. She managed the 8:00 a.m. temperature reports to the local radio station by herself because the thermometer was on her deck.

She watched him stomp down the steps, squish across the grass to the rain gauge, and sprint back, moving with a grace and confidence she hadn’t noticed before. He gave her the reading, which she logged in her record book.

“Why don’t you and Sadie come over to my house for the night?” He leaned against the island in her kitchen, crossing one long leg over the other. “We’ll camp out in front of the wood burner. Before I came over, I set on a pan of soup and a kettle of water to boil for tea. It’s going to get mighty chilly in here.”

Kara considered his offer while her little cat chirruped and wound her slim body around Kara's good leg, as if encouraging her to take up their wet friend on his offer. The house struck chill already.

“Can I make it across on crutches?” She glanced past Josh, noting the width of his shoulders, to the sheets of rain and the pools of water in her yard.

“I’ll carry you. We’ll put Sadie in her soft carrier. I can come back for your crutches and anything else we can’t handle.”

“You’ll carry me?” Automatically, horrible scenes flashed through her mind.

Josh grinned. “I won’t drop you. I’m not accident-prone anymore. Haven’t you noticed?”

She blinked. Josh carried a nice line of grins these days. “Sorry, it’s a habit to think that way. We accept. You can do the carrier honors.”

He pulled the nylon carrier out of the closet where it lived, unzipped the flap, and set it on the island. “My childhood history of mayhem is what made me go into physical therapy. Did I ever tell you that?”

Kara watched, fascinated, as he picked up Sadie and turned her to face him. “No, but I suspected.”

“We’re going to my house until this weather passes, Sadie,” he said to the calico. “Be a good girl.”

Sadie watched him adoringly until he turned her around, fed her headfirst into the nylon carrier, and zipped the flap. She simply curled up and settled down to wait.

“How do you do that?” she demanded. “I have to throw a towel over her when it’s time to go to the vet.”

“Expectations. I expect her to be good. Do you need help getting your things together? Better put them in a plastic bag to keep them dry. Tell me what was on in the house, and I'll turn off everything for you.”

She’d never seen this capable side of Josh before. Speechless, she saluted and went into the bathroom to get her toothbrush and other things she might need. She shouted out to him which of the lights had been on then hobbled back to the kitchen for Sadie’s food. She put their few items in a plastic grocery bag and tied the handles. 

“Better drape a towel over Sadie. She’ll get wet with it blowing like this.”

She did as he suggested then looked up at him. He stepped up close to her, and his body heat warmed her. She was suddenly breathless when she raised her arms. “If you drop me, Josh…”

“I won’t drop you.” He lifted her effortlessly into his arms and she gasped. He went still at the sound, looking down at her. “Now put Sadie’s carrier in your lap. You’ll have to open and close the door for me.”

“What about a litter box?”

“I picked up a few things after work, including one of those disposable litter boxes.”

She cautiously relaxed into him, surprised and warmed by the muscled arms around her, the width of the chest she cuddled against, the new sensation of power and control emanating from the man Josh had become. 

She lost herself in these discoveries, until he attempted to cross a patch of mud in his yard. Both feet shot out from under him, and he splatted flat on his back with her draped across him.

“You dropped us!” she accused, when she got over the shock.

“Technically, I didn’t.” He didn’t move as he gasped for breath.

“Are you hurt?”

“No, just disappointed. This is definitely a setback. I’ll have to slide you off into the mud so I can get up.” When he pulled her to her feet, he said, "I'll just sling you over my shoulder. It's simpler."

In a dizzying move, she now hung upside down, down his back, with Sadie’s carrier still clutched in her hand. “Josh, I might have to kill you for this.”

“I know.” He slogged forward, helpfully scraping mud off the back of her rain slicker with his free hand and flinging it aside as they crossed the last few feet.

He helped her out of her slicker and plastic bag and settled her in front of the wood burner before he retrieved her things and locked her house. After that, he changed clothes then quietly and efficiently busied himself with cups and soup mugs.

She watched, fascinated by this new Josh who didn’t break things. “What did you mean when you said your falling was a definite setback?”

His hands stopped moving but he didn’t look at her. “Did I say that?”

“And you said it was a disappointment. Tell me what you meant.”

He sighed heavily. “I haven’t been accident-prone in years, Kara. Except around you. Occasionally.”

She thought about it. It was true. “Expectations? I expect it, so you expect it of yourself, and then you are. I’ll work on that. I promise. But why was it a setback?”

“Because I don’t want you to see me as that clumsy little kid anymore.” He had gone very still. “I’m all grown up now. And so are you.”

She remembered how it felt to be in his arms, and the physical changes in him she’d noticed that day. “How do you want me to see you?”

He looked at her a long moment. “I think you know.”

She knew exactly what he meant and allowed new, unexpected feelings for her old friend to edge in. “It’ll take some getting used to. For both of us.”

His eyes widened. “Meaning…?”

“Meaning I didn’t see Josh the boy today. Well…maybe a peek. I saw the man you’ve become. I like him. A lot.”

He sat down close beside her. "Enough to build on? Slowly?"

She nodded and leaned into him as a gust of wind-driven rain slapped against the house. "Weather or not," she whispered.

THE END