I could leave, but I wouldn't get far. No one wants to hire a man who looks like he can't even afford a haircut. The only thing I have to my name is that mower and my truck, and I'm just waiting for the day they shit the bed too; then I'm done for. I will have no source of income other than the random side gigs for local events, and I know that hiring me to help with those is nothing more than a charity case for the coordinators. Still, I won't give up. I refuse to become my parents, and I will die trying to make something of my life, even if it's just to make Granddad proud.
The white noise of rain pounding on the flat tin roof above my head knocks me out, and I do my best to avoid the nightmares, the dreams, and everything in between.
The dim lighthitting the plastic-sheeted curtain burns through my closed eyelids. The storm must be over, and the reconstruction of whatever damage it caused is most likely already in progress. These storms bring forth the helpless people in this town, and the town will pay for the help they need. Being one of those in need of help, I will offer my services until I have enough money to eat and sleep in this bed again tonight. The motivation is strong every morning, hoping this will be the day things turn around for me, or that I will at least get a break. I press my feet into the thin, harsh carpeting, and with blurred vision, I stumble into the bathroom eager for a shower to wash away the outer layer of dirt.
Cleaner than I've been in a week, I step out of the bathroom in a towel and scoop up my slightly damp clothes from last night, quickly slipping them on. There was a time when I'd cringe at feeling damp jeans against my legs, but it's a sensation I've gotten used to over the past few years. I've got two pairs of jeans and two shirts to my name at the moment. The other pair is in the truck, covered in grime from a job I had last week. The mower got stuck between a rock and a muddy puddle, which caused a mud storm to cover me from head to toe.
When I step out of the motel room, the daylight shines over the damage caused from last night. Trees are down, and branches are floating in a foot of water covering the surrounding area. I make my way into the truck and head down toward Main Street to the other side of town, taking in the landscape of damages. We get hit with these storms two or three times a year, but this one is up there on the more damaging side.
I cruise down the residential streets looking for people who need help and find a few who requesting assistance with the trees lying across their driveways, and unfortunately, some vehicles as well. Every person is in such a state of despair, the thought of asking for, or taking compensation after helping, goes right out the window. Although their experience of a catastrophe is just a normal state of living for me, I'm no worse off than some of these people at the moment.
After helping at least a dozen locals with their damages, I head into Haven's neighborhood, finding electrical trucks working on their main transformer. While pulling up in front of their house, I see Haven outside on the front porch with her knees pulled into her chest and arms encasing her entire body into a ball. Worry lines her face, and I don't consider the thought of her parents seeing me as I jump out of my truck and hurry over to her. "You okay?" I ask in a hush.
As she spots me, she stands up and jumps off the steps into the flooded lawn. "Areyouokay?" she responds with more concern than I had for her.
"Where are your parents?" I ask, worry slowly breaking through my mind.
"Town hall helping with the emergency calls," she says.
I pull her out of the grass and back up to the front steps. "They just left you here?"
Haven shrugs. "I'm okay." Pausing for a moment as she takes in the sight of my appearance, I focus on her eyes and the enclosed green specks the sun highlights, but I break my stare as I notice her brows knit together. "You're wet and wearing the same thing you were wearing last night. Didn't you go home?" She peers down at her watch and back up at me. "It's almost two o'clock."
I could tell her the truth. I could. "Long story," I say, instead. "I was helping some people out. There's a good amount of damage, and your neighborhood looks like it lucked out compared to some of the others I've seen today.”
She takes me by the arm and pulls me inside the house. “Raine, you still need to take care of yourself.”
I’m inside the mayor’s house. As the door closes us in, the warm scent of honey and vanilla saturates the air around me, making my stomach ache with incredible hunger pains, but the thought of being in this man’s house makes my stomach hurt worse than hunger. "Haven, I don't think this is a good idea," I tell her as we make our way through the front foyer.
Ignoring my remark, she pulls me in a little farther. "They won't be home until after dinner tonight. You don't have to worry."
"I still shouldn't be in here," I say, standing firm. But, I want to be in here.
Haven takes a few steps back, giving me an odd look. "Do you remember the night at the bar?" she asks.
There were two nights. "Which one?"
"Does it matter?" she retorts.
I'm not sure where she's going with this. "I don't know, does it?"
"The Raine from that night isn't the Raine standing in front of me right now," she says, studying me as if she's trying to figure me out.
"I'm the same person. That doesn't make any sense."
"Were you just trying to scare me away that night? You know, when you held me up against that wall, acting all tough like I should be afraid of you or something."
I fold my arms over my chest and rest heavily on my heels, feeling a watery give within the sole of my boot. "Yeah, that's exactly what I was trying to do."
"Why?" she expels, throwing her hands up in the air. I think it's safe to assume she's pissed that I've sent her mixed signals. It wasn't intentional—just an internal battle I've been fighting and losing.
"You can't—you shouldn't like me. I shouldn't be attracted to you," I tell Haven.
She huffs a quiet laugh. "Okay, well, you have a dumb way of showing it. And what exactly is your reason for why I shouldn't be attracted to you?"
"So, kissing you was dumb?" I question her, ignoring the last part of her badgering remarks.
I watch Haven struggle to swallow as a weakness plays through her eyes. "No," she says so quietly I can hardly hear her. "But you think I don't know why you're saying all this? You think I don't get it? I'm off limits. I'm the mayor's daughter. I might as well have leprosy. You aren't the first guy to run from me the second they find out who I am." Haven takes off into the center of the house, and I debate following her. She could have a housekeeper here, or someone who would rat us out. "Do you want something to eat?" Her voice echoes from what must be the kitchen, which means if someone else is here, the cat's already out of the bag. I follow her voice through a few large rooms and into the kitchen. Everything is covered in stainless steel except for the cabinets and countertop, which are stark white. Pristine and perfect.
