Storm Front Coming
By Jeremy McLaughlin

Chapter One:
On My Own

	Wood paneling climbed halfway up the walls of the room. They turned into a patterned green wallpaper, only to be turned back into wood at the ceiling trim. The floor was the same mahogany colored wood as the walls. An expensive area rug was laid out across it. The Spackle ceiling looked as though it were coated in icing that was melting in the hot sun. Christa was almost waiting for it to drip down on her at any moment, while she lay along the cool leather chaise lounge.
	The room smelled faintly of tobacco from the cigarette that she'd just smoked. There was something underneath that smell though. The smell of a bookstore or a library, Christa thought. Her green eyes shifted around the room to the back wall. It was lined with elegant wooden bookshelves. The shelves were stacked with professional looking texts. Much like the ones you would find in a lawyers office. “Smart Books” Christa liked to call them. Not to say that she wasn't a smart person. It was just easier to explain them that way in a conversation. Encyclopedias would be another good name for them, but these books handled medical information. 
	Christa was very smart filly indeed, despite her outward Hippy appearance. Not that she wasn't a hippy at heart. Love was the most important thing to her. It was one of the many reasons she was laying out on the therapist's couch now. Her marriage had ended after twenty years.
	Christa's husband had unfaithful to her, that much was true. But that wasn't the reason she called it quits on the marriage. She loved her ex-husband very much, but somehow in her life of fame as a folk singer, her storybook marriage to a pro football player, and giving birth to her beautiful twin daughters, she'd forgotten how to love one important person- herself.
	Instead she surrounded herself in a shroud alcohol and a cloud of marijuana. It was her way to hide her self-loathing. It hadn't been until the moment she blew out the brush fire of forty candles atop her red velvet birthday cake, that she realized time was running out. Christa didn't know how long she'd been sad for. The shroud was far too thick to gaze through, but something had to change before it was too late.
	“So Christa,” said the doctor, his voice was as dry and monotone as the room.
	“Please call me, Stormy.” She shifted onto her side, looking at the glass ashtray that. Dr. Bullock  had been nice enough to set out for her.
	“Your stage name,” he said, his statement piqued in the tone of a question.
	“Yeah. I remember when I use to preform on stage. I was so happy back then. I wanna try to recapture that feeling if I can.” It felt as if she were incredibly weak or weighed a thousand pounds, while she pushed herself up into a sitting position.
	Stormy wasn't fat, but she wasn't thin either. Not anymore anyway. The years of good living, rich food, drugs, and alcohol had played hell with her body. She was already shorter in stature anyway, all of five feeth to be precise. Lending itself to making her heavier in butt, hips, and thigh area. Those were some of her biggest concerns in her appearance. It was hard to hide the fat under her baby soft tan fur. Story's once perky breasts had grown large and heavy from breast feeding her daughters. They were still full and round when she was dressed, but when she was naked, they hung a bit lower than she liked. Slight wrinkles here and there told stories on her face. They were never deep enough to be noticed, unless someone were really looking for them. It was thanks to her Shetland mother, who always looked younger than she was.
	As she sat up, waves of unkempt blonde hair flowed around her head. A few braids were laced here and there through the mass. With the hair finally down, her large twin ears poked up through the waves. They had been pierced several times and were now the homes for several sets costume jewelry earrings. It suited her, somehow. They went well with her long baggy cotton shirt, festooned with orange sunflowers, the sleeves impossibly long and hanging over her hands. The baggy blue jeans that she wore were holey. On any other person they could be called bell-bottoms, but since her legs were so short, the hems dragged on the ground. Hanging out the back of the jeans was her beautifully braided tail, the same blonde color as her hair.
	Bullock finished writing something down on the legal pad that lay in his lap in front of him. “I think that's a smart idea Stormy. It's a good way to get yourself back into a positive frame of mind.”
	I'm glad you agree, Stormy thought, but was too afraid it would sound too crass for her if she said it aloud. “Yeah,” was what she ultimately said.
	“How is the house hunting going?” Bullock peered over his legal pad at her, the large Coke bottle glasses did little to enhance his generic looks.
	“I signed the papers on a repo job last week. Got a nice three bedroom house for thirty thousand dollars. It's real run down, and doesn't look like it was taken care of, but at least I own the whole thing.” Stormy fished around in her pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.
	“Good, good, that's going to help you solidify your independence, and set you further on the path of recovery. I'm proud of you. You've made so much progress in such a short amount of time.” If he were excited, happy, or proud, the monotone voice did a really good job of hiding it.
	“Yeah, everything is going according to the list.” There was a slight hint of sarcasm in Stormy's voice, which was unusual, because she wasn't that type of person.
	Stormy flipped opened the hard pack for a cigarette, mentally counting. She had four regular and three special cigarettes left. The regular cigarettes would be easy enough to replace, she could just stop off at the gas station near her house. The special cigarettes, on the other hand, were going to be harder to come by.
	The fifty thousand dollars her ex-husband had forced her to take in the divorce settlement was almost used up. After that she was going to have to quit smoking weed cold turkey. It wasn't an exciting prospect, but it was on the list of things she needed to overcome to better her life.
	“Ah, yes, the list,” The doctor said, stone faced, as he shuffled through his papers. He marked “Getting a house.” from the list. “What else have you accomplished on the list?”
	Stormy tucked a cigarette between her lips, before tucking the pack back into her pocket. “I bought a used car, so now I have some transportation.”
	The cigarette bounced around between her lips as she pulled out a box of matches from her other pocket. In a smooth motion, she struck the match with a satisfying pop and lifted it to the end of her cigarette, inhaling. Catching the tobacco in orange embers. She could see the doctor marking another thing off the list. Then he started writing something down on that yellow legal pad. Stormy couldn't help thinking he was just writing about how boring his life was. Maybe he's drawing a picture of him nailing his secretary, or something like that, she heard in the back of her head, the thought almost making her laugh aloud.
	“Did you happen to get any furniture? A couch, a bed?” A smile moved along Stormy's lips at the new thought that entered her head- That he was actually just playing bingo using her happiness enhancing list.
	“Yeah I got a couch, I have a bed too. Three actually, one for me, and two for my babies.” The azure smoke slowly rolled out from between her lips as she spoke.
	“Your daughters, Amethyst and Aloe. How are they taking the divorce?” As always Bullock was standing by to jot something new down on his little pad of paper.
	Stormy just sat there for a long moment enjoying her cigarette, thinking about her beautiful baby girls. “As well as can be expected.” She said finally, her voice sounding distant. “I mean, they'll be staying with their dad until I can get my house fixed up. It's going to take awhile though. I'm sure they'll be doing the majority of their dealing with it then.”
	Bullock opened his mouth to say something, but Stormy already answered his question before he could ask it. “I told them, if they wanted to talk about it, I'm here for them. I also told them, that this wasn't their fault. They know nothing about their dad's infidelity, or my depression. Dutch and I just used the ol' 'we've just drifted apart' routine.”
	Again the doctor's pen flew across his yellow pad, documenting ever aspect of Stormy's life. “Do you think you'll ever tell them the truth?”
	“I don't know, that's in the future. I need to concentrate on the right now of my life.” Stormy took another long drag off of her cigarette, the emotions were taking a hold of her in a big way.
	It's been hard for her to talk about her children since the divorce. Stormy could tell that they were disappointed with her, just by the look in their eyes. It was a hard thing for a mother to take in. She would have told them anything they wanted to hear if it would make those looks go away. In the end, though, she knew she wouldn't want to lie to them. Neither her or Dutch ever wanted to lie to their kids. Dutch was ready to shoulder the blame and admit his infidelity to the kids, the very day Stormy asked for the divorce. Stormy just smiled and pet his broad muzzle, urging him to wait. Amethyst and Aloe needed a hero now more than ever. They needed their dad to help them feel safe. Stormy said that she wanted to take the blame this time.
	“Right you are.” Bullock jotted another thing down on his legal pad. “There are only a few more things on this list. I know it's a progress in motion. I would like to see the rest of them finished by the time you come back to see me next week.”
	Stormy took a deep breath, the smoke warming her from the inside out, as she tapped the cigarette against the bottom of the glass ashtray. “What's left on the list, Doc? I misplaced mine in the move.” Stormy lay back on the chaise lounge again.
	“Buy a nice outfit.” The doctor mumbled. “Get a paying job. Start going to church again, that's a good one. It'll help you feel better. The last one is 'have lunch with my babies'.” There was a slight chuckle in his voice on the last one.
	“Thank you for reading that to me. I'm having lunch tomorrow with a friend, she's going to help me get a job. We're also going shopping together on Friday. I'll get the dress then so I can wear it to church. There's a church a few miles from my house, that I'll be attending on Sunday. Afterward I'll swing by and pick my kids up for a little brunch.” Stormy said nonchalantly, her thoughts dwelling on the other million things that she had to do between now and then.
	“Sounds good. Real good, in fact. Remember that the meal with your girls should be just you and them. None of your friends should be there, and certainly not your ex-husband. You're in a very fragile state right now, wrongfully rekindling your love is always a possibility in such intimate settings.” Bullock explained, as he looked at his watch, contemplating how much time they had left in their session.
	Stormy looked up at the ceiling, thinking about the cream icing falling down on her. It was absurd to hear the doctor talk about rekindling her relationship. It had been her choice to break it off in the first place. She knew it was true though, that it could happen. Dutch was such a charming man, strong, and passionate. Stormy still loved him, but hated herself. Those two things couldn't exist in the same universe. It always led her to a dark place. It was the place where she wondered if her depression was the reason Dutch had ran to the arms of his floozies. Those thoughts only compounded the dark feelings all the more. Staying way from Dutch, no, staying away from all men for the time being was very important for her happiness.
	“You're right, doc.” Stormy said finally.
	“We have five more minutes. Is there anything else you want to address?” His monotone voice seemed lighter than normal. Probably because their session was almost over, Stormy thought.
	“I've been horny a lot lately, more so than has ever. If I sit still for a long period of time, I'm liable to slip into a fantasy that involves some pretty foul stuff. Much the same as when I was a teenager. I don't know what's happening to me.” There was a warmth radiating from her cheeks.
	Sex didn't embarrass her that much. It was the fact that she could speak so candidly about it to this stranger, that was handling her life. The slight mention of sex had started a tingle deep inside her stomach, moving downward. Bullock cleared his throat as if he were nervous, but the wedding ring on his finger and the winkles on his face told Stormy that he was use to this kind of talk.
	“Women often times hit their sexual peak between their thirties and forties. The reason you've not noticed it before now is because of your drug and alcohol habits. I know that you've been mostly clean of both now since the divorce, three months ago. I would wager your body is leveling out now.” The doctor's chair groaned under his weight, it was an unhealthy groan that caused Stormy to look over at him.
	The doctor was leaning back in his chair, naked with the exception of his black socks and dress shoes. The yellow legal pad laying against his round, reptilian belly. The green scales glistening in the low lamp light from his desk. A smile was moving up along his long and wide gator muzzle. Those beady eyes were still tucked safely behind his unflattering glasses. What made Stormy the most uncomfortable was his erect cock that was standing straight up between them. It pulsed, throbbed, and glistened with the excitement it was expecting to have. Stormy closed her eyes tightly and looked up at the ceiling. Sweat was starting to form on her face and forehead. The tingle was getting stronger.
	“It's good to embrace your sexual needs Stormy. It's healthy to let them play out the way they should. I just urge you to do it...” The monotone voice droned on, when Stormy looked back at him he sat in his chair fully dressed, writing on his legal pad. “...alone, in the sanctity of your home. Learn to love yourself, both in a platonic way, and an intimate way. You owe it to yourself to rekindle the love for yourself that you lost.”
	 Stormy breathed out heavily, blinking her eyes. Trying to compose herself before she sat up. The doctor turned around in his seat to rummage around the top drawer of his desk for something. When he turned back around, he held a book in his hand. The picture on the back of the book was unmistakable. It was a black and white rendering his face. The title was scrawled along the binding. “Loving yourself right!” Stormy couldn't believe that the doctor was about to plug his own book to her.
	“Help yourself to this. There is some very useful information in here, that might help you in this awkward time of need. I warn you though, it does seem to rattle on in the middle.” It had been the first genuine smile that Bullock had ever worn.
	Stormy couldn't help the smile that crept across her lips. “How much for the book?” That was the inevitable question that was meant to follow his generosity.
	“Fifteen dollars, but don't worry about it. I'll charge it to your ex-husband's account. He's the one who offered to pay for your sessions.” Bullock stated, his voice sounding cold, despite his warm demeanor.
	“That's going to change once I get a job.” Stormy's voice was just as cold.
	“That would be for the best.” Bullock rose from his chair, looking at his watch. “We're out of time. I hope to see you again, same time next week.”
	“I will, doc. Thank you so much.” Stormy got up from the the chaise lounge and shook the doctor's hand.
	The doctor escorted her to the door, opening for her as when they got closer. They both shared a nod, before she stepped out into the waiting room. The sound of the doctor's voice beckoning the next client into his office was lost to the sound of the receptionist asking the dreaded question. “Same time next week?” Stormy wasn't sure if she wanted to answer. She wasn't even sure if the sessions were helping. Instinctively, she just nodded as she passed on her way to the door. The moment she opened the door, the warmth of the day greeted her and pulled her into it's loving arms.
	Maybe it was helping to talk about her problems with someone. This was the first time in a long while that the sunlight welcomed her, instead of repulsed her. Stormy couldn't help but smile as she walked out into the sunny day.