Thirty-eight
It had been raining for three days, a hard driving rain spewed out by an angry black sky.
They’d spent the day boarding up as many of Bella Flora’s windows and French doors as they could manage, but getting plywood from the one beach hardware store had proven near impossible; the inland chain stores had also been picked clean as the western half of central Florida braced itself for the newly upgraded Charlene, which was eating up the Gulf of Mexico and growing stronger with each bite.
Madeline, Kyra, Avery, and Deirdre had darted into Bella Flora from the pool house and sat up all night in the salon watching the Weather Channel, searching for any hint that the storm might veer off its present course, which seemed to be aimed just north of them.
Maddie wanted to stay calm, but she couldn’t tear her gaze from the television screen, which she’d begun to think of as the “screen of doom.” Or from what she could see of the high choppy seas in the occasional spill of moonlight through the dark night and darker clouds.
Avery flipped to a local station where the TV weather departments were making the most of the first real threat they’d had to work with this season. “Look how happy they are,” she said. “They don’t have to blow up a thirty percent chance of rain into a potential weather disaster. They’ve hit pay dirt: they’ve got a real one.” She flipped to a competing station where an attractive redhead had to bite back her grin as she explained that Hurricane Charlene was now a Category 3 and expected to grow stronger.
“Just look at the excitement in her eyes,” Kyra said. “She can hardly contain herself.”
“Well, it is the opportunity of a lifetime,” Deirdre said. “If Charlene hits anywhere near the Tampa Bay area and that girl acquits herself well, her career will be made.” As had become habit, Deirdre sat slightly apart, not venturing too close to Avery or Maddie. With them, but not a part of them.
“Leave it to Deirdre to see the career potential in a looming disaster.” Avery kept her gaze on the screen, but Maddie saw the barb hit home. Since her last exchange with her daughter, Deirdre no longer attempted to defend herself.
There was a loud beeping sound from the TV and in large letters information about evacuation and shelters opening flashed on the screen.
“We could be right in her path,” Kyra said. “All the beaches are being evacuated. We really need to think about where we want to go.”
“I’m not leaving Bella Flora,” Avery said, getting up and beginning to pace. “Not after everything we’ve gone through this summer.”
“I wish we could reach Chase and Jeff,” Maddie said. “They could at least tell us what else to do to the house before we leave.”
“Yes, well, there’s no cell phone service up where they are, or TV. They may not have even heard about Charlene,” Avery said.
“Even if we could reach them, it’s far too late to retrofit the roof or do anything else structural. And all the workmen are busy securing their own homes,” Deirdre said. “Even the show house designers have had to leave their things in place.” She shrugged. “Charlene’s bringing winds over one hundred miles per hour, along with rain bands that can cause flooding and spawn tornadoes. And then there’s the very real threat of a major storm surge. Bella Flora is a sitting duck.”
“Not exactly an optimist, are you?” Maddie looked at the older woman. They could have used some of Nicole’s dry wit and strategic thinking right about now.
“I’m a realist,” Deirdre said. “If that storm comes ashore anywhere within a hundred-mile radius, Bella Flora is finished.”
Outside the wind bent the palms almost double and the rain pounded against the roof and the windows, insistent and hard. “We need to secure the outdoor furniture,” Avery said. “We don’t want to lose it or have it slam into the house; they can turn into missiles. Most hotels put the outdoor furniture into the pool. We can stash the cushions in the pool house.”
They looked at each other. No one wanted to go out into the wind and rain, which was no longer vertical but horizontal. But what choice did they have?
“All right,” Maddie said. “But Kyra stays here. And after we secure the furniture we get some things together and get the hell out of here. You know it’s probably already bumper to bumper getting off the beach.” Panic rose, like bile, in her throat. If they took too long, they could get trapped here. They’d be even more vulnerable than the house.
Avery led the way outside. Kyra shot video of them leaving, then stood on the loggia, her back braced against the wall, shooting their rescue mission. By the time they’d buried the last pieces in the pool and carried the cushions inside they were soaked.
Avery arranged the mattresses against the windows of the pool house and one of the French doors, buttressing them with the outdoor cushions. Maddie eyed the dry clothing she pulled out of her drawer with longing; she’d give almost anything to be dry. And safe.
“Forget it. There’s no point in changing now,” Deirdre said. “We’re going to be soaked again by the time we get back to the house and then into the car. Here,” she said to Avery. “Take this carryall.”
“I don’t need a bag,” Avery said. “Because I’m
not
evacuating.”
Ignoring her, Deirdre gathered Avery’s things and shoved them into the carryall while Maddie packed an overnight bag for herself and Kyra. Hurrying to the refrigerator, she packed a cooler with ice and waters then filled one plastic grocery bag with bread, peanut butter, and Cheez Doodles, the only nonperishables in the cupboard. Her fingers felt clumsy as she gathered everything together; the sound of blood whooshing through her veins was almost as loud in her ears as the growing wind outside.
“Ready?” Deirdre asked her.
Maddie nodded and got a firmer grip on the overnight bag and the cooler. She handed Avery the grocery bag.
“I told you I’m not leaving.” Avery reached for the bag that Deirdre had slung over her shoulder. Deirdre held on to it.
“Didn’t you see all those videos about what storm surge looks like? Did you pay any attention to how many people die in the tornadoes and flooding that a storm like Charlene causes?” Maddie asked. “We can’t waste any more time getting out of here. We’ve done what we can for Bella Flora. But it’s not safe to stay.”
“I don’t care. You all can go. I’m staying here.”
Not bothering to argue, Deirdre took hold of Avery’s arm. Avery broke loose and turned toward the bathroom. If she locked herself inside, they’d lose even more time.
“Oh, no, you’re not.” Deirdre followed Avery and got a strong hold on her arm. Then despite Avery’s attempts to free herself, she managed to half propel/half drag her out of the pool house and toward Bella Flora. It was the first completely motherly thing Maddie had seen her do.
They made it to the loggia and then the four of them muscled the door open and pushed their way into the kitchen. Even in the midst of battling the storm they knew to stay off the wood floors.
“I was afraid you would still be here!”
They looked up in surprise at the unexpected voice.
Nicole stood near the kitchen island, a pool of rainwater around her feet. Short of breath from her sprint inside, she pushed the wet hair out of her eyes and braced for their reaction to her presence.
“What are you doing here?” Avery asked. Her gaze narrowed, but her belligerence seemed automatic, not personal.
“I came to make sure you evacuated,” Nicole said. “I figured if anyone would be a problem, it would be you.”
“Ha!” Avery said. Her chin jerked upward, but with far less venom than Nicole had been expecting.
A small, if grudging, smile tugged at Maddie’s lips and Nikki began to hope that the need to evacuate might expedite her acceptance back into the fold.
“You always were the most persuasive of us, Nikki. If you can talk some sense into her, I won’t give you half the shit I was planning to the next time I saw you.” Maddie’s voice came out in a rush. “We need to get out of here.”
Kyra stood near the loggia door filming everything. Maddie the mother hen clucked at them, intent on hurrying everyone along. Deirdre, with a determined glint in her eyes and a bag slung over her shoulder, contemplated her belligerent daughter.
Nicole stepped closer to Avery so that she could stare down at her.
“There’s nothing Nikki can say that’s going to change my mind,” Avery said. “We don’t even know whether she was in league with her brother. She . . .”
“He stole from me the same way he stole from you. Maybe my mistake was not telling you up front. I’m sorry for that.”
There was a bang as something metal slammed into something solid outside.
“Listen,” Nicole said. “We really need to get the hell out of here. I was the last car allowed onto the beach. There’s a huge line of vehicles trying to get off.”
She studied their faces and thought she saw a grudging acceptance. No one came out and told her she was forgiven, but no one told her to go away, either.
“I’m not leaving,” Avery said. “You all can go ahead, but I’ve worked too hard to leave Bella Flora defenseless.”
“And what do you think you can do against one-hundred-mile-per-hour winds and a ten-foot storm surge?” Maddie asked. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m not . . .”
Deirdre looked at Avery and then at the rest of them. “It might as well be me,” she said cryptically. “She already hates me.”
Maddie looked confused, but Nicole sensed what was coming before Deirdre even pointed and said, “Oh, my gosh, Avery. Look over there!”
Avery turned and before Nikki could offer to do it for her, Deirdre’s fist shot out and connected with Avery’s chin. Avery crumpled.
“Jesus!” Maddie said. Her mouth dropped open.
“Wow!” Kyra said from behind the camera.
“I can’t believe you beat me to it,” Nikki said as she grasped Avery under the arms and waited for Deirdre to get her ankles. “Do you have your keys out, Maddie?” she asked as Kyra finally stopped shooting in order to put her camera in its waterproof case. Maddie went to the kitchen door.
“You actually want to go in the minivan?” Maddie asked with a stab at a smile. “I don’t know that I’d be leaving a classic Jaguar here in a potential hurricane.”
“You’ll understand when you see my current wheels,” Nikki said as they waited for Maddie to aim her remote at the van’s doors. “This is the first time I’ve fully appreciated the whole automatic sliding doors thing,” she said.
“Ready?” With a final look at each other they raced out of Bella Flora and toward the van, Nicole and Deirdre carrying the inert Avery between them. As soon as Maddie got the rear door open, they slung Avery into the cargo hold.
The endless journey off the beach passed largely in intense eyes-on-the-road-trying-to-see-through-the-driving-rainwhile-willing-themselves-forward silence. It took an hour to reach the Don CeSar, where they followed the Bayway toward the interstate.
Avery sputtered awake much later. Traveling at what felt like an inch per hour, it had taken an eternity to reach the Howard Franklin Bridge. The relative safety of Tampa lay on the other side. Nikki turned in her seat when Avery groaned and watched the blonde struggle to lift her head off the overnight bag they’d pillowed underneath it.
“Shit!” Avery groaned, pulling herself into a sitting position. She rubbed her jaw slowly. “What happened? Did somebody hit me?”
“We all wanted to,” Nicole said. “But Deirdre got in the first and only punch.”
“Shit.” The curse was almost reflective, and Nikki imagined Avery was recalling what had happened. Kyra was turned in the passenger seat aiming the camera at them. Avery grabbed on to Nicole’s and Deirdre’s seats to pull herself upright. She looked at Nikki. “You
are
here. I thought I had dreamed it.” She rubbed the side of her face, still regrouping. “This is a frickin’ nightmare,” she said. “And as for you, Deirdre, I can’t believe you slugged me. I told you I didn’t want to . . .”
“Be quiet,” Deirdre said, turning to face Avery. “You were being unreasonable. We did what we had to do.”
“You always have a way of justifying yourself, don’t you?” Avery asked angrily. “You always have to be right.”
“Like mother, like daughter,” Nicole murmured loud enough for both of them to hear. Before Avery or Deirdre could protest, Maddie, whose hands were white from her death grip on the wheel, said, “Shut up, all of you! I can barely see through this rain, we’re packed in so tightly between cars I couldn’t change lanes if I had to, and our gas is getting low. I can’t take your petty sniping on top of everything else. If you can’t say something nice, just . . . shut up!” Maddie’s loss of control stunned them into a silence, which lasted for some time.
“I can’t see anything from back here,” Avery finally said. “Where are we?”
“We’re almost in Tampa,” Maddie replied, her voice still tight. “I’m going to start breathing again as soon as we get off this bridge and away from all this water.”
Kyra panned the camera across their faces and out the window to capture the traffic that surrounded them.
“Kyra, please,” Maddie said. Kyra put the camera away.
“Where are we headed?” Deirdre asked, staring out the windshield. Nicole noticed that she only stole glances at Avery when she thought no one was looking.
“I don’t know,” Maddie said. “It looks like people are continuing north on the interstate, but we don’t have enough gas to get far, and I figured we’d want to be safe but in the vicinity so that we can go and check on Bella Flora as soon as we’re allowed back on the beach.”
There was another long silence and Nicole knew they were all thinking about the defenseless house sitting and waiting for unwelcome guest Charlene.
“Ky,” Maddie said. “Plug in the GPS and go into ‘points of interest.’ That’ll bring up a list of hotels within whatever radius we choose.”
Kyra put down the camera and did as her mother asked. A few minutes later, they’d moved about an inch, and the mechanical voice said, “recalculating,” in a chiding tone.