Page 61 of Sheltered By Love

Even though it’s sent to our remaining family, including our second cousins in Turtle Bay, and Carey’s Creek, and even to Jax’s dad who’s moved to San Francisco, it feels like a pointed jab.

After last time, there’s no way I’d have forgotten to back the alarm and cameras up.

By the time I make it upstairs Felicity’s pacing her office almost frantic.

She doesn’t even complete a full sentence. “It’s Viola”, she says.

“She’s had a turn.”

“I want to go see her.”

I shake my head. “It’s not safe to go out.”

Her eyes have started to well up. “Can’t you drive me?”

I sit on the edge of the desk and shake my head. “Winds like these make the roads hazardous.”

Her voice is imploring. “Can’t you call Garrett? Isn’t there a way?”

“Garrett’s just told me to hunker down until the wind eases.”

Her chest is rising and falling way too rapidly and her speech is stuttered as she tries to draw breath. “She’s—on—her—own.”

This is probably Felicity’s first experience with gale-force winds. I guess if I hadn’t grown up with them, and with Viola, the woman who back in the day rescued countless Flatlanders in all kinds of weather, maybe I’d be a little more concerned too.

“Viola’s in the best place possible. And she’d be pissed if you put yourself in danger trying to see her.”

“But—”

“There’s nothing you can do.”

“I can’t just sit here!” she says.

She’s close to losing it, I’ve seen it enough to know when someone is about to.

“Breathe. You’re starting to hyperventilate.”

She doesn’t calm down any as she struggles through a sentence, voice shaking so much I wish I’d brought the bourbon up with me. “I dddon’t have aaanybody else.”

So that’s what this is about. Viola’s the only connection she has to Blueskin Bay. Her reaction makes a whole lot more sense than concern for a neighbor.

“What about Nicki?”

She takes her glasses off, rubs her eyes, and tries to speak. “That doesn’t count. I,I,I pay her!”

I’m prepared to tell her she’s overreacting, that Viola has weathered worse storms than this, but I pause as I look into her eyes.

She was pretty with her glasses on, but this is the first time I’ve seen her without them.

Her irises are sea green. Not quite blue but a glassy green.

Just like the water in the Bay.

I clear my throat. “She’ll be fine. She’s tough,” I say.

Felicity seems to sag, still breathing so rapidly that she looks about ready to collapse. “You don’t get it, no one else cares, not really.”

When she looks at me out of sheer desperation, I grip her by the arms in the hopes it’ll calm her down. “That’s not true.”

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