Thunder

Mother Nature was in a foul mood. The sky, pitch black, rumbled and roared with intention. Streaks of light flashed across the sky and filled the air with electricity. The wind had a low growl as it tossed between the trees. It was a downpour. 

I struggled with the house key as I balanced a bag of groceries in my other hand.  I turned the knob and quickly closed the door behind me. I dropped the keys and bent over to pick them up. I hesitated when I saw the red heart chain attached to the keys. It was a gift that I had tortured myself with. I should have taken it off weeks ago. I wasn’t sure if Oliver still had his matching charm.

“I feel so far away from home when you’re around me.” I blinked back tears as the memory of our last fight came crashing into my skull . “I don’t know what you want from me.” Oliver was crying when he turned around and decisively walked into the bedroom we shared for the last three and a half years. I followed him down the hall, flanked by all the photos reminiscing of happier times; feeling as if darkness was engulfing everything around me. I pleaded with him. I begged for an explanation, but his emotions were too raw to control. He left that night with a suitcase. 

Soaked from the rain, I shook off the excess water and put the keys on the hook.

“Miles?” I called out, “I’m home.” I made my way to the kitchen and placed the bag on the counter. I let out a sigh and called for Miles again. “I’m home bud, where are you?” I was used to him greeting me at the door.

I ran around the house, opening doors and checking rooms. “Miles?” I asked into the empty house. There was a heaviness that tossed around the contents of my stomach and grew aggressively throughout my body. I began shouting his name even louder. 

I heard it before I saw it. The curtains fought against the howling wind and rain spilled into my living room. I ran to the window and saw the broken screen, tears streamed down my cheeks as the worst thoughts swirled through my mind. I ran outside and the storm welcomed me with a huge flash of light and a thunder that shook the ground under my feet. My knees squeaked. 

“Miles!” I screamed into the storm. I shouted his name again against the crack of thunder. “Come home!” The rain poured harder, masking my tears. 

After a few minutes of searching, I ran back inside, picked up the phone and dialed. I let out a sigh of relief that the storm didn’t cut the power off yet. It rang three times before a gruff voice answered  “Hello?”

“Oliver, ” I said.

“Tasha?” I heard the hesitation in his voice and choked on a sob with the mention of my name. He sighed before asking, “What’s wrong?”

 I’ve dialed his number more than a thousand times in the two months after the breakup, but never brought myself to call, trying to keep the last bit of pride I had left.

“Tasha? I told you we shouldn’t talk anymore. I thought we-” 

“Miles is gone,” I interrupted. He was quiet for a moment that seemed like an eternity. “Oliver? Hello?”

“What do you mean gone?” 

“He ran away. I can’t find him.”

“He’ll come back. I wouldn’t worry.” 

            I cried into the receiver. Miles was everything for me, especially after the night Oliver left.  

“Do you want me to come over?” Before I could reply the lights went off. The silence was deafening and my heart sank, the feeling of hopelessness embraced me. I spent the next twenty minutes lighting candles and searching for flashlights. The storm outside seemed to only get angrier, thunder rumbling making the windows tremble. I was pacing in the living room when Oliver walked in. I jumped when I saw him and let out a tiny yelp. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized and pointed at the front door behind him, “I knocked.” He held up a small golden key. “Almost forgot I had this.” He put his key on the hook next to mine just as he did many times before. The sight of our keys next to each other soothed my anxiety. The space had been empty for too long.   

Oliver was a tall man with a much longer beard than I remembered. His lips shivered in the cold despite being protected by an unkempt mustache. Drops of water ran down his rugged face. His beanie was pulled low over his eyes and he pulled at his scarf. His brown jacket was drenched in the rainfall and his big black boots left giant muddy footprints from the front door. 

“It’s…it’s good to see you,” he said, pulling me into an awkward side hug.

“You too.” I patted his back. I drew closer to him and took in his scent. He still smelt the same. 

“Where did you last see him?”

“He went out the window. The screen is broken.”

“Wait…Why was the window open?” he asked in a reproachful tone.

“I don’t know,” I said with a whimper. 

He sighed and moved on. “You got an extra flashlight?” 

I went to the kitchen and pulled the junk drawer open. I grabbed the flashlight and turned it on. The beam was weak and brown. I replaced the batteries and smiled as the light shone bright, almost blinding myself.

“Here,” I said as I handed Oliver the flashlight. “Thank you. For doing this. I know you probably don’t want to see me right now. But I-”

“Let’s find Miles first. Then we can talk. Maybe.” He cleared his throat and held the door open for me. I pulled my yellow poncho over myself and walked out the door.

“Miles!” We took turns shouting his name into the rain. The sky cracked in half and the clouds bled. 

It felt warm next to Oliver. My mind raced to the first day we met. The memory jumped for my attention.

“Excuse me,” Oliver said, “Do you know anything about pumpkins?” 

I laughed at his question and shook my head, “I don’t really, but try me.”

Oliver licked his lips in preparation. “I want to make a pie for my nana. She makes pumpkin pie from scratch every fall, but she recently fell and she won’t be able to make it this year. I was hoping to give her recipe a go.” I swooned and felt heat rushing to my face. 

“That’s so sweet,” I said, “I’m sorry about your nana, but I’m sure she would love you making her pie. I don’t know much about pumpkins either, but I can join you on your journey. There’s a lot to pick from.” I gestured to the pumpkin patch. Rows of different sizes and shapes of orange surrounded us. He smiled at my offer and gave me his arm. We walked around talking about nothing and everything all at once, sporadically stopping here and there to test the pumpkins.  

“I need to confess something,” he said. I looked at him with wide eyes. I forced my mind to remain blank and patient. I could feel the imaginative conclusions scrapping at the surface of my brain. He let out a little sigh of relief and said, “I know what kind of pumpkin to get. I just wanted to talk to you.” I blushed and smiled. I felt my heart flutter and my palms sweat. After finding the perfect pumpkin for his nana’s pie, we exchanged numbers. We were inseparable until two months ago. 

We were in the storm for nearly an hour. My throat was hoarse from shouting. 

“Come on, Tash,” I heard Oliver say as he walked up to me. “Lets go inside. Warm up a bit. I see lights, maybe we can call someone.” He pointed to my duplex, now with the lights shining through the windows. The power was back on. The storm was still roaring above us, but was losing its power. We walked back to the house and opened the front door. As I made my way to the bathroom, I noticed out of the corner of my eye something sitting on my living room couch. 

“Miles!” I shrieked with joy. “You’re back!” Miles looked at us from the wet couch and gave me a wild grin. He shook the water off him and barked twice, wagging his tail hard against the cushion. 

“See,” Oliver said with a smug smile, “I told you he would come back.” 

Oliver closed the window and locked it shut. “I don’t know why you even had this open.” I decided to ignore him and gave my attention to Miles instead. I ran my hands through his brown fur and scratched behind his ears. He returned the favor with licks and more barks. Oliver smiled and gave Miles some pats. 

“You had us worried there, boy,” he said, letting Miles lick his face. He pulled away and stood to leave. “I’m glad he’s back home where he belongs.” He adjusted his scarf and fixed his jacket. I watched him for a moment, not wanting him to leave. I thought about the pumpkins again and smiled. The fight didn’t seem as important anymore. 

“Stay?” I asked. He turned back to me with a mischievous smirk. 

“Talking to me or Miles?” he asked. I walked up to him and placed my head on his chest. His arms wrapped around me and squeezed me tight. It was nice to feel his warmth overcome me. 

“I’ll stay,” he whispered against the soft roar of the dying storm. The rain slowed to a stop as the last breath of thunder escaped from the tired clouds.