The Storm 80

Be warned: there is a little sex in this story, but not a lot. It's really about falling in love and building a life together where two were once apart.

This story is set in what came to be known as The Blizzard of 2013 that hit the East Coast of the USA in early-February of that year. Northern New England got hammered while the mid-Atlantic states fared better. I probably took a few liberties with the history of the storm, so if you're looking for a lesson in meteorology you might look elsewhere.

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We've all been there in one form or another. Something happens to derail our plans, the people who are supposed to help us screw up, and we wind up in a situation we didn't imagine and never asked for. That was my experience in The Boston Blizzard of 2013. The weather derailed my plans, the hotel screwed up my room, and my life was changed forever. What did I do about it? What could I do? I thanked the weather gods for the storm, I thanked the hotel for their mistake, I tipped everyone more than I have ever tipped anyone in my life, and I thanked Kate for everything else. Sometimes a storm is a good thing.

Perhaps I should tell you who I am. My name is Jack Barnes and I'm an engineer by profession. I'm 61 years old, or I was at the time of this story, and I'm still working. I suppose I could retire, but then what would I do? The truth is that I love my job and my career gives me more satisfaction than any mere job could ever do, so I keep working until it stops being fun and then I'll retire. I'm not there yet.

I was flying home to Boston after a week of working on the West Coast. I love the sun and warm air as much as anyone, but I will confess that I'm not a California type. I don't surf, I don't like crowded highways, and I don't chase after whatever is in fashion today. I don't fit in with the California lifestyle and I was happy to be headed home.

It was that season, and I knew that if the weather patterns were right Boston could get hammered. With a winter nor'easter, Boston will get buried under feet of snow and life just stops. You can't fight Mother Nature when she decides to drop the big white hammer. We were passing Chicago when we heard weather reports that Boston was getting hit with a major storm. Everyone on the plane knew what that meant: either we get to Boston before it closes, or we don't get there at all. Twenty minutes beyond Chicago the captain came on the intercom "Sorry folks, but we just got word that the Boston airport is shutting down. We have been redirected to DC. We will keep you informed as we learn more." With Boston closed, this was shaping up to be the winter storm everyone would talk about a decade from now.

An audible groan passed through the plane as passengers counted their missed connections, their broken plans, and the inconveniences of landing at the wrong airport in the wrong city. I guess I travel too much because I just shrugged, reminded myself that this is life in the modern world, and sat back to get some rest. I knew that the first few hours after landing would either be cramped or crazy depending on whether they let us off the plane.

We landed and DC was already getting the first hours of the storm that shut down Boston. The storm never hit DC the way it did Boston and the plows were able to keep the runway open, but we had no place to go. They finally let us off the plane and we made our way to the service desk to learn our fate. The airline would put us up in a local hotel for the night and we would all wait until Boston was once again open for business. One by one we got our assignments and hurried to catch our cabs to the hotels. With no way to get home, getting comfortable was the next priority.

I got to the hotel behind a line of angry travelers and waited my turn at the front desk. You know, it just does not pay to get pissy with the desk clerk. It's not their fault, they are doing the best they can, and if you succeed in really pissing them off you may just get the worst room in the whole place. I learned that the hard way many years ago. So, when my turn came, I was all smiles and appreciation. I made sure to say, "Thank you!" as often as I could, accepted my key card, and headed for the elevator. My fate was already determined, so why make it any worse?

I settled into a surprisingly comfortable room with a king size bed and an adequate desk. To my great surprise, even the chairs were comfortable, and I never find any comfort in hotel chairs. I sat back for a few minutes to collect my thoughts and make a to-do list. It was surprisingly short. It was a Friday, so I didn't have to worry about missing work tomorrow. The kids were grown and off on their own. I'd call them later just so they didn't worry. I had a little work I could do once I was settled, so I unpacked my case, put some clothes in the drawers, and kicked back to watch a little boob tube.

I was sitting there, watching the tube and relaxing, when what should never happen happened. I heard a key card in the door, it swung open, and in walked someone I did not know who wasn't supposed to be there. She got into the room, down the narrow hall past the bath, and froze in her tracks. "What are you doing in my room?"

"Ah, it's my room."

"No, it isn't! I just checked in, they gave me my key and room assignment, and this is my room."

"Well, I checked in about an hour ago, here's my key, and this is my room."

"Damn it! Are you kidding me? They told me I got the last room in the hotel."

"Oh boy! Ah, okay, let's call down to the front desk and see what they can do."

I called, we talked, I gave the phone to my fellow traveler, and after a long argument with the front desk she put the phone back on its cradle and sat down on the edge of the bed dejected. "There are no more rooms in the hotel and all the other hotels in the area are full up. The road crews are keeping up with the snow, but only barely, so the highways are sketchy at best. There's nowhere for me to go."

I thought about the whole situation for a minute and I reached a decision that was probably the most stupid idea I have ever had in my life. "Okay, let me start." I held out my hand. "I'm Jack Barnes. I'm an engineer and I live in Boston."

She looked at me like she didn't know what to make of it.

"Oh, sorry, here's my driver's license and it has my photo and address. Why don't you start by calling your family, telling them where you are and who's here in the room with you, and then we can sit down and try to figure out what to do."

She did exactly that. I won't say she was entirely kind in her description of me to her family, but she didn't suggest I was a relative of Charlie Manson, either. So, I figured it could be worse.

After talking to her family, she handed back my license and with some embarrassment she said, "I'm Kate McDaniels. Hold on, I have my license here somewhere."

I had to laugh. It may be sexist of me; but I figured I was more a threat to her than she was to me, so I said, "I trust you." I couldn't help laughing as I said it.

My laugh must have disarmed her somewhat. She smiled, looked down at the carpet for a moment, and then she finally extended her hand.

I took her hand. "Nice to meet you, Kate McDaniels. Come here often?"

Well, at least that got a little laugh and with some embarrassment and exasperation she shook her head and sat back down on the corner of the bed.

We were quiet for a moment and then I said, "Look, I don't mean to presume, so just let me say that we can work this out. I'm not dangerous and the sofa is almost half big enough to sleep on, so you can take the bed and I'll be fine. I'll give you as much privacy as we can manage under the circumstances and we'll both get through this okay. Okay?"

She smiled and nodded.

With that, I began to notice this woman in a serious way for the first time. She was about my age, slender, and with short gray hair. She had the wrinkles that time brings us all eventually and I could not help but think "No cosmetic surgery. She's comfortable with who she is! I like that." I started thinking about the feisty way she confronted me when she found me in what she called "my room" and I had to smile. I like feisty.

She said, "Should we exchange war stories?" I was starting to see that smile at long last.

"Absolutely! But first, I think I need a beer. Would you join me at the bar?"

"God yes! I could use an IPA right now."

She drinks IPAs? I like this woman more every minute. "A woman who drinks a proper beer. I like that. The first round is on me!"

"How many rounds are you planning?"

"Actually, I'm kind of a one-and-done beer drinker. I tend to savor it, make it last, and then I'm thinking nachos." That got me a smile.

And with that, we headed off to the hotel bar with not very high expectations but a whole lot of need.

The hotel bar was crowded, and it looked like there were a lot of travelers there hoping to get a room that did not exist. At one point the desk clerk rang his bell and said, "Are there any hotel guests who are willing to share a room for the night?"

Kate and I had to laugh when we heard that. "Too late!" we both cried out.

One beer and some nachos became two beers and dinner. The hotel wasn't four stars by any sense, so the cuisine wasn't much to get excited about. We both figured they couldn't mess up pasta and salad too badly, so that's what we had. Our expectations were low, and we got about what we expected. Still, the company was good and as the evening wore on, I was enjoying my dinner with Kate more by the minute.

Once she relaxed, Kate was a delight. She was a retired high school teacher living in Portland, Maine who taught world history for thirty-five years. She got the travel bug when she retired and in a few short years she racked up the miles, becoming far better traveled than I ever imagined I could be or wanted to be. Where I went to the same places all the time, she had been all over the world. She'd been to countries and continents that I never dreamed of visiting. She'd been all through Southeast Asia, toured China, and hiked Tibet. She spent two months touring India and Africa where the closest I'd ever gotten to either place was Italy, and that's not close at all. When she was much younger, before she married and started her family, she spent a summer backpacking through Europe, across Scotland, and down through Ireland. Kate had an adventurous spirit.

Kate had settled down when she got married and set about raising two children - a boy and a girl. Both were in their thirties now and had given Kate three grandchildren with a fourth on the way. Both children seemed to have married well to Kate's satisfaction and in her mind, she now had four children and loved each equally. I couldn't help but think how lucky their children were to have a grandmother with such a loving and adventurous soul.

For my part, I explained that I also had two kids, a boy and a girl, and that I was thoroughly happy with their choice of mates. Both were smart, loving, and kind. Each couple had two kids, giving me four grandchildren; and I figured that baring any accidents, that was probably how it would remain.

Where Kate traveled the world, I traveled the coastline in my thirty-foot sailboat. I didn't have summers off like Kate, but I'd sail my boat along the coast for a long weekend, rent a slip for the week while I caught a bus or a train home, and the next weekend I'd pick up where I left off. I did take two weeks off every summer so I could sail uninterrupted up and down the coast, exploring towns and inlets, sleeping under the stars, and taking a lot of cold showers. My boat was too small to have a water heater and I only managed a hot shower when I stayed in marinas. Since marinas are crowded affairs, I anchored more and showered less.

For years my wife and kids would sail with me, taking the occasional weekend to stay home when something was happening there. In time, the depression that plagued my wife for most of her life got worse and she no longer wanted to sail with me. I stopped my travels and contented myself with day sailing on Saturdays and a few evenings after work. These are the things you do when your family needs you. It's not about your own needs or being fair. It's what you do when the people you love need more.

As we talked and ate, we became more comfortable with each other and we began to open up, telling each other about the problems we'd faced and the struggles we'd had in the course of living a marriage and raising our children. We both had lost our spouses in the worst of ways. Her husband was an alcoholic who struggled with sobriety, and in the end had lost his battle. A one-car accident made Kate a widow. My wife lost her struggle with depression in much the same manner. One day, while I took the kids to visit their grandparents, she took a bottle of pills and that was that.

I commented that it seemed we'd both had our measure of pain, but we had a greater measure of joy. I didn't mean to make light of what either of us had lived through, but it was clear we both had moved on. You never really forget the pain of loss; but in time it lessens, and life goes on.

Then she dropped the bomb and I was left speechless. Kate was a survivor in the most literal sense of the word. Sixteen months before she had been diagnosed with bladder cancer. It was aggressive and the prognosis wasn't good. Not being one to take defeat easily, she went to the West Coast where they had a team that specialized in precisely her form of cancer and she beat it! This trip had been a routine follow up and all the tests were good. Kate had beaten cancer! With this, I saw her in a whole new light, and it left me sitting there with my mouth open wondering how anyone could come through such an ordeal with optimism and their sense of humor intact?

At that moment I became a fan of Kate McDaniels. From that point on, all I could think to say were silly words like "Would you like some more..." and "Have you tried the..." I wanted to find some way, any way, to bring some pleasure into her life and make her smile. I think she sensed my desperation. She smiled as she leaned across the table, put her hand on mine, and said, "Relax, Jack, I'm fine now."

She saw right through me. I was so embarrassed that all I could do was smile and say, "How about a pair of diamond earrings?" I felt like a fool, but I got her to laugh and then I started to relax again.

As we ate, we discussed our lives, our careers, and our thoughts. It turned out we had many of the same values, we liked the same music, and we chose the same kind of friends. I learned that I could make her laugh and she made me laugh with seeming ease. A tense and completely unexpected confrontation in a hotel room that we both expected to have to ourselves turned into a delightful evening of storytelling and laughter.

The crowded lobby had finally dispersed when we made our way back to "our room" by way of the commissary. We picked up some chips, a bag of dried fruit, some soda, and a few more bottles of IPA not knowing when or if the weather would break. Kate joked that we should stock the shelves in case we turned on each other in our hunger. "Forget the Donner party! People will be telling stories of the horrors they found in room 312 of the Dulles Best Western during the great storm of 2013." I guess we were beginning to relax with each other.

When we got back to our room, Kate did something I never imagined I'd see after the way we got our start just a few hours earlier - she flopped down on the bed, breathed a deep sigh of relief, and said, "My God, I'm tired!" Okay, it wasn't "Come here, sailor!" but it was remarkably casual and trusting when just a few hours before she'd eyed me with such suspicion.

I watched her in fascination and after glancing out the window I said, "Here is my prediction: we're going to lose power, lose heat, and lose our minds before the storm lets up."

"Everyone, head to the center of the building! Carry the blankets with you! Huddle in a mass! Use sex to stay warm, but only as a last resort!" As she laughed at her own joke, she sat up. Looking at her shoes, she said "I think I ruined my shoes walking in the snow."

I cracked up! She changed gears in an instant and left me with comic mental whiplash. I knew she was stone cold sober. She'd only had two beers over the course of the evening. Still, she had me in stitches and I fell back onto the sofa in laughter. "I'll lend you mine, but you'll have to tie them on."

We passed the evening in conversation and storytelling. We were of like minds on a great many things. The inconvenience of the storm was forgotten, and we became very comfortable together. We sat together for several hours and time passed without us becoming aware of it until finally she yawned, apologized, looked at the clock and realized it was after midnight. It had been a stressful day for both of us and we realized that tomorrow may be no better. With so many travelers stranded, getting flights out would be a struggle.

We each took our turns in the bathroom, brushing our teeth and dressing for bed. I was fortunate that I'd packed a pair of pajamas never knowing what surprises a trip might bring or where I'd find myself. She came out in what I can best describe as a pair of men's pajamas that fit her loosely. I didn't tell her that I think a woman dressed like that is tremendously sexy. Any woman can wear a see-through nothing and turn a man on, but I learned long ago that hidden under that thin layer of fabric was everything a man could hope to find. Imagining it was the first bit of fun and revealing it was the second. I couldn't very well tell her that, so I just smiled and said, "They fit you well." as I headed off to change. It was enough to make her blush and I figured that was a good thing.

As I dressed for sleep one and only one thought kept running through my mind, "Please, please, please, do not pull a boner in front of Kate! Oh, but she is so cute in her PJs! No! Think of something else. Think of the snow, the cold, the icy wind. Think baseball stats. Think about the work you need to do on the boat in spring - clean the deck, replace the anchor line, paint the bottom... Kate's bottom... Oh God, I bet she has a lovely bottom! Damn it!" My only hope was to lie on my side on the sofa with the blanket over me and hope she never noticed what I knew would be inevitable. I grabbed a cloth and soaked it in the coldest water I could get from the faucet. I soaked my dick with the cold cloth until the swelling went down. It took forever.

"Are you okay in there? I keep hearing the water run."

Damn it! "Yes, just washing my face."

As she walked away from the door, I heard her muttering "You'll run out of soap if you wash your face that much."

I don't think I was fooling her, but at least she didn't know the real reason. That's what I told myself.

When I returned to the room I was composed. Thankfully, I was also flaccid, but I didn't know how long that would last. I sat on the sofa and put a blanket across my lap. We spoke briefly and before I could wish her a good night, she asked the question. "Do you snore?" That's when I realized just how unsexy I was about to become.

"Actually, I have sleep apnea and I've spent most of my life feeling tired because of it. But I got one of those CPAP machines a few years ago and the thing changed my life! I no longer snore; I sleep peacefully and wake up rested and energized." Then I remembered what I look like in that mask. "The only problem is... well, do you remember the Arnold Schwarzenegger film Predator?" She did. "You remember when the alien takes off his mask?" Now she was laughing. "Well, I look like the alien just before he takes off the mask. It snaps in the side and if anyone sees me take it off, I'm expecting them to run from the room screaming in terror."