Where the Wind Blows

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/3185732.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: Gen
Fandom: The Weather Man
Character: David Spritzel
Additional Tags: POV First Person
Stats: Published: 2015-01-17 Words: 1035

Where the Wind Blows

by NeverComingHome

I'm the Weatherman. It’s what I do. Sometimes it’s who I am. Noreen said I don’t pay attention,
I’m all over the place and yeah, okay, I am. I try to focus, concentrate on what I need to do and do
it like Robert, but it’s difficult. I’m in people’s homes every day, usually following some horrific
story about a guy who killed two kids and kicked a puppy so they look to me for a distraction.

“Slight chance of rain, definite chance of tears with an incoming weather system of Shit Happens.
Wear a jacket assholes.”

People don’t want to hear that. They just want their forecast. Should they bundle up or stay inside?
Should they stare up at the sky for a break in the clouds or walk with their heads down, trying not
to drown in the approaching flood.

....

Michael told me I need to relax. Can you figure that? A kid telling his dad to calm down. That’s
not right, that’s not how things are supposed to go. I should be counseling him, telling him it’s
going to be alright not the other way around. And Shelly, Jesus, she deals with everything Robert
tried to protect me from: ridicule, stress, feelings of crippling inadequacy and the desire to shove
your head in the dirt and wait for the storm to pass.

“Incoming freeze so don’t try to brave it unless you need to be somewhere important and even then
you might blow it off, I mean who has time to deal with bullshit when things are freezing over,
right? Not me that’s for sure. Back to you Bob.”

They say I’m cracking up, that I should take a breather, be with my kids and the dog that is no
longer mine. Yeah, like it’s that easy. Like having a week off will suddenly keep Noreen from
crawling into bed with another man every night while I fuck Ms. Harvest Festival in a two
bedroom apartment overlooking the city, wondering if the life I miss was all that great in the first
place.

But I’m the weather, man, everywhere at once but never sure where I’m headed next, screwing up
people’s lives if they don’t take me into consideration. Narcissistic and a horrible liar, but ten
times as worse when it comes to telling the truth.

“Pull yourself together, Spritz,” the station manager hisses.

“My name is Spritzel.”

“I don’t care if your name is Tommy Two Tone, you just said ‘the only thing blowing is Bob
Hanson’s wife’ on live television the sponsors-”

“The sponsors can kiss my ass, I quit.”

“You’ve got a contract!”

“Oh, yeah? I’ve also got two nuts, want me to whip that out too?”

“Get out! Don’t come back until you get your shit straight.”

“Well then I’ll see you at half past never.” I nod at the anchor on my way out. “Later Bob.”

I make their apology on air and take a sabbatical so they can chalk it up to mental BS while I sit on
the edge of the bed with a bottle of scotch between my legs and my head in my palms. Noreen
leaves a message on my phone but I don’t hear it and when she shows up at the door we both know
the smile I put on is fake.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, Dave. but it needs to stop, the kids cannot take another
meltdown.”

“Would you sit down? You’re making my head spin.”

“No, I won’t, because I’m not staying.”

“Well then just,” I sigh, “ come stand beside me. Please?”

She does, crossed arms loosening. “Are you having a mid life crisis? Because if so then let’s just
go back to the therapist.”

“I don’t know what‘s happening.” I turn my head into her waist, closing my eyes. “Things used to
be good didn't they?” I look up at her, “I mean in the beginning, you weren’t faking it?”

She rolls her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“No, really. Be honest. Were you happy with me?”

She hesitates, but then her hand comes down to rest in my hair, “Yes. Things used to be great.
You’re a good father and you were a...consistent husband. Which is why I don’t understand how
you can put your career in jeopardy like this, it isn’t you.”

“Maybe I don’t know who I am anymore.”

And then she goes on her knees and kisses me. It isn’t anything, I know that, we’re both past the
point of wanting that. It’s not even a goodbye, more like a ‘I’m still here’, that connection between
two people who probably would have worked better as friends, but realized it after they’d already
started to hate each other.

“You’re Dave Spritz and you‘re a good man.”

I nod, “Thanks.”

She pats my cheek and stands, looking at her wrist. The Dog is at the vets‘, Shelly is due home
soon and she’s got errands to run, stopped by because she was still listed on my employee
information and didn’t want to be held responsible if I jumped off a building.

She says it only half joking, looking to me for reassurance. I tell her not to worry and try smiling
again. It’s a little more convincing, a little more real, enough to satisfy her anyway. I lay on my
back staring at the ceiling for a while after she’s left.

And I realize something. Change is only good if you change with it. Robert tried to explain it to me
once, but now I sort of get it. If I became an astronaut tomorrow I wouldn’t be an Astronaut I’d be
Dave Spritzel the astronaut, floating around in space wondering if Noreen would be with that fat
dipstick forever and what would happen if she decided to have kids with him.

Because the thing about the weather is no matter how much it varies, it’s pretty much the same.
Snow? Rain? Sunshine? It’s all up in the air, but you never worry about something really
unexpected. And in that sense it's safe, consistent.

~*~
“Hey! You’re the weatherman.”

“No, actually,” I outstretch a hand, “Dave Spritz.”

Whatever, it's a start.

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