Page 19 of Happy After All

Even on a 123-degree day, it’s the kind of warming that actually makes me feel good.

Chapter Five

Save the Cat—when a main character does something early in the narrative to demonstrate that they are, in fact, a hero in the story.

The weather has been truly next-level terrible. We’ve congregated in a very small group in the lobby to listen to Alice play the keyboard while Ruth sings. Ruth is wearing a short sequined dress that I could believe she bought last week or wore back in her waitress days. She has a bright-red flower pinned into her curly black hair, and bright lipstick to match.

Alice is wearing her usual sedate style. Apparently she doesn’t think a motel lobby performance rates sequins.

Even in her nineties, Ruth’s voice is beautiful. Time and age give every note a haunting tremolo, and her rendition of “At Last” makes my heart swell.

She’s reaching the crescendo of the song when the motel lobby door opens in from the courtyard, and Nathan comes in.

Right as they get to the part about love coming along.

No.

I reject that instantly as my eyes lock with his, as my heart crashes hard into my breastbone.

“There’s smoke coming from somewhere,” he says.

The last few notes of the song fade out, and I look at him. “Smoke?” I stand up. “Here?”

Elise, who was sitting on the couch with Emma on her lap, displaces her daughter gently and stands up.

“No. Toward town.” He holds the door open, and I move past him, heading outside.

It’s still hot as hell, and the wind, dry and thin, is blowing an acrid scent in the direction of the Pink Flamingo. When Nathan gets nearer to me, I realize he smells strongly of alcohol.

I look at him closely. His face is weathered, deep grooves bracketing his mouth, and there’s a specific hollow look to his eyes. He’s hungover. I don’t know if he was out or in his room drinking alone, and I don’t know what to do with either scenario. Right now, it’s definitely not the most important thing.

The residents fill the courtyard, and all of us look off into the distance.

Sirens start to wail, filling the air.

My pocket buzzes, and I take my phone out. I notice Elise doing the same. There’s a banner alert going across the screen with an exclamation point.

Evacuation Level 3—Go Now!—issued for parts of Riverside County.

I click the map and see that the alert encompasses the northern part of town. Residential buildings and all the big-box stores, schools, doctors’ offices.

Another alert comes through immediately.Level 1—Be Ready.

That’s for the southern part of town. Old town, with its charming historic main street. The older houses, and my motel.

Shock makes my hands shake and my movements clumsy as I open the local Facebook page to try to get a sense of what’s going on, while at the same time Elise opens a local news stream.

“The fire started at an apartment complex, and because it’s so dry and the wind is so high today, it spread immediately to another complex next door,” she reads out.

It’s still seven miles away from us, but the high wind and the extreme heat makes my stomach feel hollow with terror.

My residents don’t move quickly. Most of them don’t drive. I start catastrophizing about what will happen if we lose this place. If we have to evacuate, I’m piling everybody into my car. I know Elise will take hers. We won’t leave anyone behind.

“I’m going to go back to my unit,” she says. “I just need to ... We’re going to have to pack things.”

She runs back into the lobby, takes Emma’s hand, and leads her outside and toward their unit. I can’t quite parse the emotion I feel in that moment. Elise is being strong for Emma. The way she cares for her daughter makes me so conscious of an empty pit in my stomach. Of pain I try to forget.

I look away, and I think about my boxes of books in the closet. My clothes. It would be sad if I lost all the copies I have of my books. But mostly, everything I have is replaceable. Pictures are digital, and anyway ...

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