Page 112 of Ten Beach Road

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’mnotevacuating.”

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.”

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