Chapter 4 - The Thunderstorm
Seattle storms have a way of violently rattling the glass of waterfront mansions. Lightning spider-webbed across the night sky, followed by a crack of thunder that shook the floorboards. It was past midnight, and the house was pitch black.
I was awake, staring at the ceiling, my muscles aching with a deep, throbbing soreness from the day's brutal therapy session. Another crack of thunder echoed, and a few seconds later, my bedroom door creaked open.
A small, trembling silhouette stood in the doorway. “Daddy?” Lily whimpered, clutching a stuffed rabbit to her chest.
“Come here, sweetie,” I said gently.
She scrambled onto the massive king-sized bed, burying her face into my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around her, wishing I could effortlessly carry her back to her room, tuck her in, and chase the monsters away. The physical limitations mocked my duties as a father.
A moment later, a soft knock came from the door frame. Clara stood there, illuminated by a flash of lightning, wearing an oversized collegiate sweatshirt and sweatpants.
“I heard her crying,” Clara whispered, stepping into the room. “Is everyone okay in here?”
“Just a little scared of the noise,” I said, stroking Lily’s hair.
Clara walked to the edge of the bed and sat down near my legs. She didn't treat my bedroom as forbidden territory; she treated it like a safe harbor. “You know, Lily,” Clara said softly, “when I was little, my dad told me thunder was just the clouds playing bumper cars. They get clumsy when it rains.”
Lily peeked out from my shoulder, a tiny smile breaking through her tears. “Really?”
“Absolutely,” Clara smiled. She stayed there for an hour, telling quiet, ridiculous stories until Lily fell asleep against my chest.
The storm raged outside, but inside, a strange, profound peace settled over the room. I looked at Clara in the dim light. The fierce, demanding drill sergeant from the gym was gone, replaced by a woman of profound warmth and deep empathy.
“You’re good with her,” I whispered, not wanting to wake my daughter.
May you like
“She’s easy to care for,” Clara replied, her eyes meeting mine. “She just needs to know someone is going to stay when things get loud.”
Her words hit me like a physical blow. She wasn't just talking about Lily. She was talking about me. And for the first time since the accident, I realized I was terrifyingly close to falling in love with her.
