Page 93 of To Catch a Thief

Mamá rambled on about what she needed to take with her.

There was only so much space in Sage’s back seat and her small car. Now she wished she hadn’t canceled the lease on Mamá’s sedan. It would have held more bags.

“Do you have a covered bed on your truck?” she asked Sage.

“No.” His responses were blunt and cold. He downed his coffee and pushed away from the table. “I’d better get back out there.”

“Wait,” she called.

In the laundry room she found Poppy’s old, yellow slicker. She crushed it against her chest and swore she could smell the sea and Poppy on the oiled fabric. “This might keep you drier.”

When he slipped it on, it was snug. “Thanks.”

She cleaned the kitchen while Mamá dawdled with her food. “Will you put your dishes in the sink when you’re done?” She hated leaving her mother alone, but Sage needed help.

Mamá waved her away. “I’ll pack.”

“Why don’t you set out clothes and I’ll pack.” She could ensure Mamá had what she needed.

She found Yaya’s slicker. Even though she was taller than her grandmother, it would keep her dry.

Before heading out the door, she checked on Mamá. She was drinking her coffee.

Don’t burn the house down.

The wind, stronger than before, caught the porch door and banged it against the shutters. She tugged and pressed until the door latched. Then the wind punched at her as she moved around the house to where Sage clung to the ladder. “What do you need?”

“Shutters. Carport,” he yelled.

She moved as many as she could, but the wind tried to rip them from her arms. It took her four trips. Then she hauled them up to Sage one by one.

Breakfast had been—nice. Being with Sage, having him assure her when her mother talked about the promises Beau had made, had kept back the crazy. He’d held her hand.

She missed his touches. Why couldn’t they still be together?

The wind slapped at her like it knew where her thoughts had gone. Sage despised what she’d done. He’d broken up with her. Just because he was kind and thoughtful didn’t mean he understood her actions.

“That’s it.” Sage pushed on the last shutter and spun the wing nut onto the bolt. “Let’s get out of the rain.”

He belted the ladder into the carport’s rafters. Together they cleared the carport floors.

“Now I understand why your house is built on stilts,” he said, strapping lawn chairs to the rafters. “Estimated storm surge is six to eight feet.”

She placed a paint can on the top shelf. “I don’t think the water has ever made it into the house.”

In the porch, they kicked off wet shoes, grabbed towels and dried before stepping inside the dark house.

“Mamá, how are you doing?” she called.

“Packing.” Mamá’s voice floated out of the bedroom.

“What do you want me to do?” Sage asked.

“Can you pack the computers?” She pulled out her list. “And photo albums.”

The albums might keep Mamá entertained while they waited out the storm.

He nodded. “We should make this fast so we beat the traffic.”

Carolina walked into Mamá’s makeshift bedroom and her eyes went wide. All Mamá’s performance dresses were laid out on the bed. Bless it. Mamá had climbed the stairs by herself.

“Those are beautiful. But you should also take everyday clothes.” Carolina went upstairs and pulled out two suitcases. On the way down, she grabbed the bag she’d packed last night.

She rolled clothes and packed Mamá’s medicine, making sure the fancy dresses were in a separate case. If they couldn’t fit both in the vehicles, she would somehow forget to take that suitcase.

After dropping the bags next to the front door, she stopped in the kitchen. Sage looked up from the open fridge. “I found a cooler and started to pack the food.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to say it over and over,” Sage said. “I get it. I’m glad I can help.”

She had to bite her lip to keep the tears from falling.

Opening the cupboards, she dropped soups, pasta and other staples into bags. Savannah would probably lose power, so she added candles and matches. Then unloaded the fruit bowl. From the laundry room she added her mother’s protein drinks even though Mamá hated them.

“Anything else?” Sage placed ice and frozen meat in a paper bag. Hopefully it would stay cold on the trip.

“The bottled water.” Was it enough?

Mamá stood in the entrance of the kitchen, holding the globe and bird and Fitzgerald House teacups. “Where should I pack these?”

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