Weathering the Storm

"Peter? Any luck yet?" Peter heard the concern in his mom's voice as clear as day, watching from the corner of his eye as she stepped back into the kitchen, unable to keep herself from fidgeting from any longer that a minute at a time.

"Nothing yet, the reports are all saying that the storm is only going to get worse from here on," Peter reluctantly gave the answer, focusing on the small television perched on the counter across from him, briefly looking at the list of departing and arriving flights on his phone. "It's too early to say, but I think they're going to cancel your flight, all the outbound flights keep getting delayed."

"And there's no sign of the storm clearing?" Sarah nervously bit her leap, leaning over the kitchen island as she watched the incoming news reports with Peter. Any glimmer of hope she still had of making her flight were dashed as a graphic of lightning laced storm clouds moved across the screen, on a bearing that directly sliced through the path between the airport and her intended destination. "I guess not then. There goes any chance of a promotion."

"I'm sure your company will understand if you don't make it in time," Peter brushed a hand across his mom's back, which was left mostly bare by the rose red sundress she had selected for what should have been a warm summer's day, entirely unsuited for the freak weather event. "What do they expect you to do? Change the weather?"

"Knowing the partners, that would be an underestimation of their expectations," she sighed, forced to accept the reality of the situation. With no hope in sight, she was ready to unpack her suitcase and resign herself to yet another year of filing and sorting paperwork in the basement of 'Johnson, Carlysle, and O'Kane', the law firm she worked for. "All that work, down the drain. All because I couldn't make it to a silly conference."

Peter felt a stab at his heart as he took in the sight of his despondent mother, watching her shaking her head gently. The past few years had been tumultuous for the Richards family, starting with the collapse of the marriage of Peter's parents. The divorce had marked the end of a series of increasingly volatile and toxic arguments between his mother and his father, Philip, stemming from the affair he had engaged in with his long-time secretary. Despite the effort of Peter's mom to at least make the marriage overcome such a betrayal, but Peter knew deep down that even she could see that the relationship had been dealt a fatal blow.

Barely a month passed following the filing of divorce proceedings before Peter's father moved out of the family home, setting up with the very woman who had played a critical role in the breakup of the family. Philip had been 'kind' enough to allow Peter and his mom to keep their modest three bedroom suburban home, though Peter was sure that his father's motivations were less benevolent and more the result of him wanting to sweep his lover off to Europe to fully realise the extent of their whirlwind romance.

Peter could never quite come to terms for his father's infidelity, incapable of understanding what could have lured him away from his mom. Aware of how wrong it was to do so, he was always cognizant of his mother's aching beauty, still full of vibrant youth despite being into the final year of her thirties. Long, copper hair framed her oval shaped face, bringing immediate attention to her high cheekbones and full lips, along with her piercing emerald eyes. Whereas most women tended to let themselves go after years of marriage, Sarah Richards used age as determination to keep in shape, splitting her exercise routine between regular gym visits and aerobics classes, two things Peter attributed to the trim figure she still possessed that would have made a woman half her age jealous.

But beyond physical appearances, Peter had always found his mom to be an endlessly charming woman, full of a charisma that could easily lure the biggest of introverts out of their shells. Her personality was as infectious as her wicked humour, always leaving those she conversed with hanging off of every word that spilled from her lips. No matter the situation, he could always rely on her to have a bright smile on her mesmerising face, full of unyielding warmth.

But even from a young age, Peter was aware of how driven she was at work, always striving to carve a name out for herself as a lawyer. The balance between her career and her home life always made it difficult to fully achieve her goals, forced to occasionally pick up the slack when Peter's father's own work took precedent over hers. Peter couldn't quite shake off the guilt he felt when he realised just how many chances at promotion she had missed out on over the years due to her consistently having to play the role of both parents. Yet, she never once complained, nor did she ever treat Peter with anything less than motherly adoration.

Every one of those factors made it near impossible for Peter to understand what his dad could have seen in his secretary that he couldn't find in Sarah. But ultimately, nothing his mother could have done would have deterred Philip from the path he had chosen, left only with the need to rebuild a life for both her and her son.

Peter's entry into college left Sarah with the perfect opportunity to finally achieve her lifelong goals, throwing every ounce of her being into working her way up the corporate ladder. No matter what was thrown at her, she took it in her stride, bolstered by the encouragement of Peter. It certainly made for an unusual experience for the redhead, to have someone so willing to fight in her corner, always there to pick her up whenever things at work truly became tough, even when they were miles apart. The pair soon became a duo that could always depend on one another for support.

Just as Peter had expected, she had managed to jump through every hoop she was expected to, ingratiating herself to the partners whenever possible. With Peter coming into his final year at college, having followed in his mother's footsteps to study law, it wasn't uncommon for the pair to be sat video chatting for extended periods, each buried by a mountain's worth of legal documents and exam papers, going back and forth to help each other out. It became a running joke for them, with Sarah taking great delight in claiming that he likely had as much knowledge on the topic of law as those she found herself forced to compete with for the coveted position at the firm.

The conference in Ohio seemed so innocuous in the grand scheme of things, a truly pointless seminar to help hopeful attorneys and solicitors gain the insight they might need to become as effective as possible in the field, though Sarah didn't believe that for a second. It was simply another unnecessary hurdle she was expected to overcome to appease those who held her career advancement in their hands, purely a test of loyalty rather than a true test of her incredibly varied talents. However, the expanding thunder clouds sought to make so many hours of hard work all for naught.

"Maybe they'll cancel to conference altogether? It seems stupid to let it go ahead if most of the attendants can't get there," Peter reasoned, grimacing when the news started to show footage of rows of grounded planes, all of which were cast in the dark gloom of the storm clouds forming above. "The words 'once in a century' aren't something you can just ignore."

"Pete I don't think you realise just how cutthroat some of these people can be. I wouldn't be surprised if most of those fighting for the position flew out a week in advance," his mom finally had enough, picking up the remote to turn off the television. "I knew it was too good to be true, everything seemed to be going so well."

"What if I drove you?" Peter suggested, willing to do whatever it took to get the woman he so adored out of her increasingly hopeless state of mind. It was a wild proposition, especially when it would require a cross state journey that would usually take just over a few hours by flight, but with their options incredibly limited he was willing to do anything to help.

"What?" Sarah asked, lifting her head away from the marble top, with faint hope twinkling in her green eyes. "What did you say?"

"I could drive you, if you wanted," Peter repeated, spurred on by the small smile that found its way onto his mom's soft lips.

"I couldn't possibly expect you to do that, it would take a day to get there by car," Sarah placed her hand onto Peter's, rubbing her thumb gently across his knuckles. "You used to hate going on long trips when you were younger, I couldn't put you through almost a full day of driving me around."

"That was a long time ago, I've got a little more patience these days," Peter reassured her, getting a laugh out of her for the first time since the announcement of the storm. "Besides, I've spent the last month trying to get that old Ford Taraus I bought working. What could be a better way of testing it out than a nice long trip across the state line? Think about it, if we leave now we might actually outrun the storm."

"I think you have a little too much confidence in that old rust bucket," Sarah giggled, finding a look of determination etched on his face, one she couldn't bring herself to snuff out. "I've heard you working on that thing with your friends, I don't think I've ever heard so many expletives spoken in so few sentences before, that's hardly a glowing recommendation of the capabilities of the car. Will it even get off the drive without the exhaust system falling off?"

"Have a little faith. It doesn't look like much, but the engine is as solid as anything you'll ever find on the forecourt of a dealership. I can promise you without a speck of doubt that we'll make it to the conference in time. It won't necessarily get us there comfortably, I haven't gotten around to replacing the shocks yet, but it'll get us there. What do you say?"

"Wait here, I'll go get my things," Sarah beamed, pulling Peter into a crushing hug only a mother could produce, making a dash for the stairs.

Peter shook his head affectionately, turning the television back on as he waited. Somehow, the predictions for the storm had only worsened, with the overly well groomed weatherman highlighting the possible direction of the raging storm. In addition to a near across the board grounding of flights across the Midwest, warnings were being put in place cautioning those wanting to make any sort of journey through the path of the storm unless it was absolutely vital. Unwilling to go back on his promise, he flipped through the channels, eventually landing on an asinine reality show, one he could only barely pay attention to as he waited.

Thankfully, the sound of a suitcase banging against the carpeted steps in the foyer snapped him from his stupor. Switching the tv off, Peter grabbed his keys and strode into the hall, stopping short when he found his mother standing beside the open front door. A pair of four-inch black slingback heels provided her creamy legs with a longer appearance, drawing Peter's attention to the manner in which her various curves became more pronounced, showing that her effort to maintain her trim figure hadn't gone to waste in the least. A simple gold necklace tempted his gaze to move towards her ample cleavage, requiring every bit of self control he had to keep his eyes locked with his mother's.

"What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost," Sarah giggled, extending the handle of her pink, chevron patterned suitcase.

"It's just...you look great," Peter blushed the second the word left his mouth, though there was no way of properly disguising the honesty in his tone. "I mean, I've never really taken the time to really notice before. Sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry about anything, I'm always happy to receive the occasional compliment about my figure. Especially if its coming from someone who's opinion I hold so dearly," his mother replied, giving him a wink as she lifted the wheels of the suitcase over the threshold. "Let's get a move on, we've got a long journey ahead."

Peter made a quick doublecheck before departing, rushing around to make sure that everything that needed to be turned off was indeed off, not wanting to run the risk of the housing burning down before he made it back. Confident that everything was in order, Peter made his way out, setting the alarm before locking the door behind him. Dashing over to the driver's side door, he unlocked his car and popped the trunk, rushing back to help his mom hoist her suitcase inside, surprised by the weight of it.

"God, this thing weighs a tonne," Peter grunted, tipping the suitcase over the lip of the trunk, listening to the suspension squeak terribly when the case landed upon the soft faux fur lined interior. "What have you got in it?"

"A woman never travels light, Peter," Sarah leaned over and kissed Peter's cheek, shooting him a grateful expression. "And thank you for your help, I don't know what I'd ever do without you."

"Don't mention it," Peter lifted a hand to his cheek when his mom sauntered over to the passenger's side, feeling the wet print of her lipstick against his fingertips.

To his disgust, a sudden rush of exhilaration poured through him, flowing directly down to his manhood, driven by the picture of the beauty gracefully sliding into the cracked leather seat of his car. As hard as he tried, he couldn't prevent the inevitable erection that quickly followed. Closing his eyes, Peter took a short moment to try and clear his head of the indecent thoughts that rose to the forefront of his mind, only making the short trip back to the driver's side once her comfortable enough to do so.

Climbing inside, he made a few attempts to pull the seatbelt down, giving it a harsh tug to coax the black strap away from its housing. He slotted the key in and gave it a turn, giving his mom a weak smile when the engine failed to turn over, listening to it choking in response to his attempts. With a hope and a prayer, he gave it a few more tries, leaning back in relief when the car finally purred with life, covering the vinyl dashboard with an assortment of flickering lights.

"Well, it starts at least," Sarah laughed in amazement, tapping a nail against the perspex cover protecting the dials and speedometer, highlighting the many lights that flashed a dangerous red. "Are any of these something we should worry about?"

"Of course not. At least, I hope not," Peter slammed his fist against the dashboard hard enough to jolt it, beaming when the lights suddenly cut out. "See? All in working order."

"Uh-huh, until the engine decides to fall out on the highway," Sarah said, reaching down to pull the handle to guide her chair along its rails, rolling her eyes when it didn't move an inch. "Let's just see whether this thing can make it to the state border."

"Don't worry, I spent too many hours beneath the hood trying to get everything back into working order, it'll be fine," Peter drove away from the drive, clearing his throat nervously at the scraping sound that came when the Ford rolled onto the street, trying to pay no attention to the thick cloud of black smoke that poured from the exhaust pipe. "Just a few little kinks in the system, a long drive should clear them out."

"I trust you, Peter," his mom replied genuinely, gripping onto the overhead handle for dear life as the car bounced along the tarmac, until Peter finally got the old Ford in gear. "It's this heap that I doubt. Are you sure it can go the distance?"

"Only one way to find out," Peter grinned, giving his mother a final lustful look before leaving their quiet neighbourhood behind, making a risky entrance onto the main road.

~•~•~•~•~•~

To the pleasant surprise of the occupants of the scrappy looking car, the Ford did indeed make it to the state line and beyond without suffering any sort of catastrophic fault. It cruised along the highway with a degree of ease, stuttering from time to time whenever Peter tried to push it beyond its limit.

Unfortunately, their crossing of the state line was accompanied by a very ominous set of dark, rolling clouds that soon spread across the once orange sky of the late evening. It didn't take long before the clouds unleashed a torrent of rain across the landscape, covering the asphalt until it took on a mirror-like appearance. What started as a light shower quickly morphed into a torrential downpour, creating a blanket of lashing rain that reduced visibility to a dangerous level.

The Taraus did an admirable job of staying on course, even as other road users began to file towards the off-ramps or come to a stop along the side of the road in the hopes that the storm would eventually calm. Peter set the windscreen wipers to their maximum speed, listening to the rubber scraping along the glass non-stop in a vain attempt to give him a clear sight of the road. Sudden bursts of wind battered the broadside of the car, requiring Peter to adapt accordingly to prevent himself from losing control. As confident as he was that he could keep going, a concerned look from his mom gave him pause.

"Peter, I really don't think this storm is even close to getting started," his mother gripped the dashboard, with worry plain on her face as she stared ahead, barely able to make out the glow of the tail lights of the vehicle in front through the rainfall. "I don't think it's safe for us to keep going, we've pretty much been driving around blind for the last ten minutes."

"I think you might be right," Peter replied, feeling the growing possibility of hydroplaning beginning to make itself known, forcing him to drop well below the speed limit to feel a little more at ease. "But I don't want to park up at the roadside, I don't believe that either of us wants to spend the night stuck in here. Keep an eye out for anywhere we can crash for the night."

The pair continued on, until they were one of the few still left on the highway. It reached the point where the windscreen wipers became almost ineffective, doing little to keep the never-ending flow of water at bay. Sarah squinted as she pressed her face against the cold window glass, joining Peter in a search for any sort of accommodation, using the street lamps as a guide. It took a few minutes of highly cautious driving before she caught sight of the colourful glimmer of a neon sign, distorted by the water trickling along the passenger side door glass.

"There!" Sarah exclaimed, jabbing her finger against the glass, pointing towards the flashing neon sign. "I think it's a motel. Do you think we could try there?"

"Never have I been so glad to see a motel before," Peter exhaled, flipping the indicator toggle switch. "Hopefully Norman Bates isn't home."

He made sure the road was clear before crossing lanes, pulling away from the highway and onto the forecourt of the motel, backing into the bay designated with an incredibly faint set of painted white lines, wedged between a pair of worn down pick-up trucks. Though visibility still remained low, Peter could make out the rotating neon sign suspended by the thick pole across from them, which read 'Eug-ne's Rest St-p', with the missing letters being evidence of the sign's age. Reaching back, Peter rooted around the footwells of the rear passenger seats, managing to locate a small umbrella hidden among the pile of clutter and tools.

"Ready to brave the weather?" Sarah inquired, laughing derisively at herself when she looked down, realising how woefully unprepared she was for the thrashing rain. "I guess I was tempting fate by wearing a summer dress of all things."

"At least you look good," Peter countered, again finding himself blushing when the compliment left his mouth for some inexplicable reason. "Wait there, I'll come around to get you."