Page 15 of Loud Unspoken Memories

“Thisisan emergency. I need to get to my son.”

The look on her face has a knot forming in my stomach. “Is he sick?”

“He’s fine. But…” She swallows hard and gazes out the window. “His dad just died. It’s why I was driving up here.”

I stagger back like I was punched in the gut. My calves meet the sofa and I sit, slumping over until my forearms rest on my knees. “His dad.” I look up. “Not your husband?”

Belatedly, I check her finger for a ring. In all my life, I’ve never been concerned with whether or not a girl was hitched. I found my one true love when I was thirteen, so why should I give a single flying fuck if this one is married or not?

“He’s my ex. But he’s also my very best friend.” She rubs her eyes. “Or he was.” She sits on the edge of the bed. “I still can’t believe it.”

“You said it’s an emergency. Is he all by himself?”

“Charlie. His name is Charlie. And no. He’s with his stepmom, Anita, and her family.”

“Is he safe?”

“Yeah. They’re good people.”

“Okay, so it’s not so much an emergency as somewhere you really need to be.”

She nods.

“I’m sorry to say that doesn’t make my little road the highest of priorities.”

“No. I suppose not.”

“Was your ex in an accident?”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. I don’t need to hear details about anyone dying.

“The doctor said it was something called an AVM. Anterior venous malformation. He had a tangle of blood vessels that irregularly connected arteries and veins. He never knew he had it but was most likely born with it. And since it was in his brain, it caused a massive stroke. It was sudden. They said he probably never felt a thing.” She sniffs back tears. “The worst part is that if they had known it was there, they could have fixed it. He could have gone on to lead a normal life.”

Bile rises in my throat when I think of Phoebe. I was told she might not have experienced any pain.Mightnot. Notdefinitelynot. I’ve looked it up. Carbon monoxide can make you feel sick, cause a headache, shortness of breath, vertigo, and the list goes on. I know she had a seizure. I can only hope she didn’t know what was happening to her. DJ, on the other hand, died quietly in his sleep. There’s little solace in knowing that. He’s still not here, and he never will be.

My phone buzzes with a text from the propane company. They won’t be coming out today. Or even this week. The news just keeps getting better. “Shit.”

“What is it?”

I pull up the propane meter app on my phone. “I was due for a propane delivery today. It’s not coming.”

She glances at the fireplace, where only embers remain. “I’m confused.”

“Don’t you hear the generator? The hum coming from behind the house? There isn’t electricity this far out. Everything here runs off the five-hundred-gallon propane tank in the back yard. Once that’s gone, the food in my fridge will spoil unless we pack it with snow. The only heat we’ll get will be from the fireplace. And there will be no hot water.”

“But it’s not going to run out, like,today… is it?”

“I’m down to five percent. We’re probably okay for today, but we might want to conserve where we can. I’m going to turn the heat down. And if you shower—”

She holds up a hand. “I get it, I get it, I get it. No wasting resources. It’s fine. We once had to go a week without power when a hurricane plowed through the state. I think I’ll survive.”

“Surviving a week without power in Florida is a bit different from being in the wilderness of New York in a blizzard. Don’t get too blasé about it.”

“Blizzard? Who said anything about a blizzard?”

I show her my phone, the weather app displayed on the screen.

Her eyes grow huge. “Twelve more inches of snow? Are you kidding me?”

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