KkkkkRRACKKKaaaboooommmm!
Lying on the couch in the rented cabin at Tekapo, Dianne had reached for the remote as soon as the first blue-white flash flared around the closed curtains, followed almost immediately by a peal of thunder and a heavy patter of rain. As the thunder trailed off and the rain drummed against the roof, she turned off the television and curled her legs under the blanket she’d stolen off the bed. Without saying a word, Paul switched off most of the lights, came over, pulled open the curtains on the lounge’s picture window and sat down on the space she’d made for him. He draped some of the blanket onto his lap and settled in to watch and listen to the storm with her.
Another flash lit up the sky, briefly showing them a glimpse of the lake below, and Paul started counting.
“Thousand one, thousand two, thousand three, thousand four…”
CCCCRAAACCKKAAAABOOOOOM!
“... Just under a mile.”
“Mm.” Dianne paused, then shifted over to sit against him. She was oh so pleased when Paul rearranged himself to better accommodate her, leaning back into the couch and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She moved the blanket to better cover them both and felt the lingering tension slowly bleed out of him as the rain continued to batter the slate roof of the small cottage they’d rented near the lake that gave the area its name.
They’d both been in a waspish mood when they’d arrived here mid morning, freed from their duties on a 48-hour pass. Things… things had been rough up top, missions and training and simply being busy stealing time away from them. When they finally got away (which had been a mission all on its own) and arrived here the weather had been bad, a lowering sky and building pressure and humidity making them that much crankier, turning irritation into frustration. Paul had been especially moody because of the weather. He wanted to be outside, not locked into a box at ground level instead of the usual of locked into a box at 40,000ft, but he wasn’t silly enough to leave shelter with a storm like this brewing right overhead.
Dinner hadn’t been much better as their tempers mounted right along with the building storm, but they both held their tongues and swallowed the hurtful words that could have been said. As an olive branch she’d gone to see if there were any movies he’d like on the media centre while he put away the leftovers, both knowing by now that they needed a cooling off period before they could address what was going on. And now, it seemed, the storm had finally broken, both literally and figuratively.
BOOOOOMMMMMboooooom-b-b-boooommmm…
A sigh, then Paul tightened his arm around her in a little hug. “I’m sorry about how grumpy I’ve been. That wasn’t fair on you, not in the slightest.”
Dianne laid her hand on his and gave it a little squeeze. “Forgiven. I’m sorry too, I’ve been in just as bad a mood, and for no real reason.”
“Forgiven.” He canted a look at her. “Though the reason is very real and valid. We’ve barely seen anything of each other in days. I’ve missed you, but I should have been much more mature about it instead of stewing like I have been.”
“The same here.” Admitting the failure wasn’t easy, but she knew it was the right thing to do. The circumstances weren’t either of their fault - the plans of mice and men, after all - but their reactions to it were.
Krrrrrracka-BOOMmmmmm…..
Paul cast a rueful look at the media centre, then at the storm outside. “We’re not going to be able to watch anything over that racket, and the forecast said it’s going to be staying put for a while.”
Dianne looked around the cabin and considered their options. “We could get an early night?” she suggested. “A nice long shower, then cuddle up in bed and watch the storm?”
Lifting their still clasped hands, Paul kissed her knuckles, recognising the offer for what it was: time together simply being close, something that he had been craving for days. “I think,” he said, smiling gently, “that that is a perfect idea, love.”