Page 30 of Summer With You

“I’m just doubting myself all the time.” She sighed. “It must be the pregnancy brain. I’ll call you in about an hour. The kids are cleaning the kitchen from dinner. I’m about to go sit with Celine on the porch. I think she’s on the phone with Ace. They’ve been fighting a lot recently.”

So, she had noticed that, too.

“They’ll work it out, just like we did. I love you, Spitfire.”

“I love you, too, Ryan.” She hung up, leaving me in the silence of our big, empty house. I finished my beer in two more sips and then tossed it in the trashcan. I forced myself through the shower and then fell into bed. This house had never felt bigger than it did now without my loud family filling the space.

Amber’s cold spot was beside me, mocking me as I waited for her warm body to curl against mine like it had been every night, but instead, all I had was a phone call before bed with my kids. No pregnant wife to curl against my chest and kiss me in the middle of the night.

The next morning, I woke with a start to the loud blaring sound of my alarm. Very little could get me out of bed early these days, but in my groggy mind, I remembered my little sister needed Ace and me to get home, to protect her and Amber from the storm.

Scrolling through my notifications, I checked the latest weather report to see the storm had turned into a category three and was leaving Puerto Rico, meaning it would make landfall in Florida later tonight. It was a dangerous storm considering normally when a hurricane passed over land, it lost some of its power.

This one had only strengthened.

The graph of the cone had grown since last night, and the storm’s path of destruction growing and intensifying. We needed to hurry up and get back to our families before we got caught in the storm on the road.

An hour later, I had showered and eaten. I was sitting in Ace’s driveway watching the guy hanging up some shutters above his front door. He teetered back and forth on the ladder, making my stomach uneasy.

Obviously, he had seen the news report and was even more desperate to get back to Celine. His determination was inspiring but dangerous. Putting up shutters wasn’t a one-person gig. It required at least two people.

“Hey, man, you couldn’t wait?” I called, getting out of my truck and jogging over to him.

“Nope. I woke up, saw the update, and started working. Haven’t even had breakfast yet.” He raised his arm to whack a hammer at the shutter, securing it to the wall. “Celine was in a state last night, and it took me an hour to coax her to sleep. I should have been there for my wife, but instead, I insisted on going to fucking work,” he growled. He whacked the wall again, a loud clanging noise bouncing off the shutter.

“No point in beating yourself up. Let’s get this done and get on the road. Remember, teamwork makes everything go faster.” He half-heartedly smiled at me, but his eyes remained cold and distant. Just like the Ace I had known in college, the one who blamed himself for his brother’s death.

He was now feeling guilty, failing his wife and kids.

A few hours later, we climbed into my truck, shirts stuck to our sweaty bodies, panting from the hot and humid morning. There wasn’t a cloud in sight, only a scorching hot sun that had burnt both of us.

We went around my house, putting up the shutters in silence, no need for conversation when we both knew the stakes of taking too long. Twelve years ago, hurricane prep was a joke. All I was worried about was a full tank of gas in my truck. I didn’t have a wife or kids depending on me, and the reality hit me hard once we finished the last window.

“Go shower. I’ll wait in the kitchen,” Ace mumbled, face red with exertion, sweat dripping down and soaking his hair, but he didn’t mind. He never had. Ace had never shied away from hard, manual labor, and he’d never been one to give a crap about his appearance, either.

I passed through the shower, washing the muck from my body in a few minutes, and grabbed whatever clothes I found in my closet before finding Ace pacing the kitchen.

“Let’s go.” He nodded, and we raced back to his place where he showered even quicker than I did and met me in the garage where I had moved Celine’s SUV out and put my truck in.

We hopped into the lavish SUV, and he sped until we reached the highway where he merged on and finally relaxed. It was past lunchtime, and my stomach growled in the thick silence.

“We can’t stop yet,” he mumbled, eyes focused on the heavy traffic ahead of us.

“Didn’t ask,” I reminded him, even though my stomach kind of had. “Don’t forget, we need to get some supplies before we get back to Orlando. The stores are almost empty there, and there’s no gas.”

“Celine told me last night,” he mumbled. “We can grab something at the rest stop halfway. Check the latest update.”

Pulling out my phone, I read through the report and swallowed thickly. It had worsened. “It’s going to make landfall tonight as a category four.” Ace winced. “We should start feeling the outer bands this afternoon in the next hour or so.”

“Fuck.” He gripped the steering wheel with both hands. “Fuck, she’s never going to forgive me.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed silent. An hour later, we pulled into a crowded rest stop for gas. Ace parked the car in the shortest line while I went inside and grabbed whatever food I could find that didn’t need to be kept in the fridge. The lake house didn’t have a generator, and we knew that with its remote location, we would be losing power for a few days.

By the time I made it back to the car, Ace was paying for gas, sticking the nozzle in the open gas cap. He strode past me, mumbling something about the bathroom. I dumped the goods I found in the trunk and watched the meter slowly climb until it clicked eventually signaling that the tank was full, and I pulled the nozzle out.

I waited in the passenger seat, letting Amber know we were about two hours out when Ace slid into the driver’s seat, looking frazzled.

“It’s been raining nonstop for the last twenty-four hours and apparently the power just went out. Celine is fucking pissed, and the kids are driving her fucking nuts,” Ace told me, clearly stressed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Pressing Amber’s name, I waited for her to answer. When she did, I flinched from the shrill scream of a child. Putting the phone on speaker, I waited to hear something else.

“Shut the hell up! I’m speaking with your father!” Amber screamed at one of my kids. “Ryan, you need to get here. I’m about to lose my shit with these fuckers.”

Ace and I shared a brief look. This wasn’t good. Amber was doing a lot better than she had before we had our first set of twins, but being overwhelmed like this could always set her back.

Fear clawed at my throat. I didn’t want to lose my wife to that darkness again.

“Step on it, brother!” With that, the car revved loudly as we raced out of the rest stop.

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