“I’m sure she’s all right,” he said. “Chloe and I thought she might be at St. Esther’s.”
Daria suddenly drew away from him. St. Esther’s!
“I was just about to call over there,” Chloe said. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Chloe went into the cottage to make the call, and Daria pictured Shelly hiding out in the church, where she would no doubt feel secure. Of course that’s where she was! She even had a key. The thought of her safe inside the church was an enormous comfort.
A car turned into the cul-de-sac, and Daria walked out to meet it, hoping that Shelly might somehow be inside. She had to plant her feet wide apart to avoid being blown away as the car pulled in front of the Sea Shanty. She recognized the sheriff’s-office insignia on the side of the car, and Don Tibble, one of the deputies, struggled to open the car door against the wind. He was alone, and she knew he was most likely driving around to make sure Kill Devil Hills was evacuated.
“Daria?” he asked. “Is that you?”
The hood of her windbreaker nearly masked her face. “It’s me,” she said. “Have you seen Shelly anywhere?”
Don leaned against the car, the wind tearing at his uniform. “Don’t tell me she’s gone missing again,” he said.
“Yes, and this time we can’t find her.”
“Golly, that girl,” Don said. “Well, you know you’ve got to get out of here now, Daria. The wind is just about too high to get over the bridge as it is. You’ve got maybe a half hour left.”
“I can’t leave without her, Don,” she said.
Don put his hands on his hips and looked past her into the Sea Shanty. “Is Sister Chloe with you?” he asked.
“Yes. And Rory Taylor.”
“Well, you at least have to move to a higher spot,” he said.
“I want to be here in case Shelly comes back,” Daria said. “I know the risks.”
“I know you do,” Don said. “Look, I’ll keep my eye out for her, okay? And I’ll alert the other deputies to do the same.”
“Thanks, Don.”
He glanced at the two cars in the driveway. “At least get your cars to higher ground.”
She hadn’t even thought of that, a sure sign her brain was not functioning as it should. “Okay,” she said.
Chloe stepped onto the porch. “Hi, Don,” she said.
“Hey, Sister,” the deputy replied. “I was telling Daria here you folks really need to leave.”
“Was anyone at the church?” Daria asked her sister.
“No answer.”
Daria turned to Don. “Is there a chance you could check St. Esther’s Church?” she asked. “We thought Shelly might be there. She’d probably be hiding from anyone trying to find her, though.”
“Bruce is patrolling that area,” Don said. “I’ll radio him to check it out.”
After Don drove away, Daria, Chloe and Rory moved their cars west of the deserted beach road. They plowed headfirst into the wind and rain as they walked back to the Sea Shanty, and it took both Rory and Daria to get the porch door open. Daria knew that once they were inside, they wouldn’t be going anywhere—and that the likelihood of Shelly being returned to them that night was slim. She could only hope that her younger sister was safe, sleeping peacefully on a pew in St. Esther’s.
They cracked the Sea Shanty windows open an inch or so, then gathered candles and a hurricane lantern in case the lights went out. Sitting together in the living room, they watched the progress of the storm on television. The weather reporter was drenched and windblown, even though he was now stationed on the mainland, having evacuated himself and his camera crew from the Outer Banks. The eye of the storm was headed for Hatteras, the reporter said. At least Kill Devil Hills would not get the full brunt of it. Still, the swirling vortex of clouds on the weather map was spinning directly over them.
It was only the clock that told them when it was time for dinner. None of them was very hungry, and there was little food in the cottage, but Daria found some cheese and a couple of cans of soup in one of the cupboards.
“I have some bread over at Poll-Rory,” Rory offered.
“You can’t go out there.” Daria looked toward the window, where the storm shutter prevented her from seeing outside. Even so, she knew the night was black as pitch, and the sounds of the wind and the sea were ferocious. “You’ll blow away.”
“I think there are some rolls in the freezer,” Chloe said.
They put together a dinner of cheese sandwiches and lentil soup and ate it at the kitchen table.
“We’re nuts to be here,” Daria said. She was thinking ahead. How would they know if the sea came up too high? Should they stay upstairs, just in case? She had faith in the Sea Shanty’s construction and foundation, yet she could still remember how the Trumps’ cottage had looked as it floated out to sea. That had been a winter storm, she kidded herself. This summer hurricane could simply not be that bad.
They had just finished washing and drying the dishes, when the lights flickered twice, then went off, plunging them into darkness.
Daria felt around on the counter until her hands landed on the flashlight, and she turned it on.
“Wherever Shelly is, she’s going to be terrified,” she said.
“Well, then maybe the next time she won’t be this foolish.” Chloe’s words sounded harsher than the tone of her voice. Daria knew she was as worried about Shelly as she was.
“Where did you put the lantern?” Rory asked.
“In the living room,” Daria said. “Let’s all go in there. That’s where the radio is.”
In the living room, they lit the lantern and a couple of candles. Chloe sat on the couch, and Rory took a seat in the chair next to the radio, but Daria stood by one of the windows, trying to see outside through the cracks in the storm shutters. She wished they had heard something from Don about finding Shelly at St. Esther’s. No news was bad news.
“Sit down, Daria,” Chloe said. “There’s nothing we can do to help Shelly at this point.”
Daria sat down in a chair. Chloe was right. Worrying was not going to help.
Thunder began rumbling above the cottage, and flashes of lightning pierced the cracks in the shutters. They listened to the radio for a while through the static, but it soon seemed pointless. They were closer to the hurricane than any of the newscasters, and they turned off the radio and simply sat, listening to the storm.
The atmosphere inside the Sea Shanty grew strange. Despite the angry sounds outside the cottage, the breathless warmth inside was rare and, somehow, wonderful. Flames from the candles pierced the darkness, and despite her concern for Shelly, Daria felt her body begin to uncoil and relax.
“I’m thinking about leaving my order,” Chloe said suddenly.
Her voice sounded alien and disembodied in the peculiar air of the living room, and Daria didn’t understand.
“You mean…you’d join another order?” she asked.
“No, I wouldn’t go anywhere else,” Chloe said slowly. “I’m saying, I would no longer be a nun. I’d ask to be dispensed from my vows.”
“Chloe.” Daria was stunned. “I thought you loved what you do. I thought you loved being a nun.”
“Oh, I have. I truly have. But…I don’t think I can continue this way.”
“What way?” Daria asked.
Chloe studied the glow of the lantern, as if mesmerized. “Sean…” She hesitated, then started again. “Sean took his life in a misguided attempt to try to save me from temptation.”
“I don’t understand.” Daria wasn’t certain she wanted to understand.
“I’ve always had difficulty with my vow of chastity,” Chloe said bluntly. “Poverty was no problem. Obedience was no problem.” She shook her head. “But I’ve always had a hard time denying that part of myself. That sensual, sexual part. When I was in the convent, in my early days as a sister, I’d sometimes wake up in the morning and realize that I’d had an orgasm in my sleep, during a dream, perhaps, a
nd I’d berate myself over it. What was wrong with me, I thought, that even though my days were filled with pure thoughts, that wretched…carnal part of me still came out at night, when I couldn’t control it. I’d beat myself up over it. But then—” Chloe looked at Daria “—then I began to think that my distress over feeling that way was ridiculous. I had done nothing wrong. What I was feeling stemmed from a normal, natural God-given part of myself, a part I was trying to deny existed. But it did exist. And I couldn’t make myself believe any longer that there was something wrong with that.”
Daria couldn’t speak. She had never heard Chloe talk so openly about sexual feelings. About anyone’s sexual feelings, much less her own. She’d thought that Chloe simply did not have those longings, that she was above them somehow. She’d been wrong. Chloe was nearly forty, and had denied that part of herself all these years. The realization brought tears to Daria’s eyes, and she could feel her sister’s pain from across the room.
“What did you mean when you said that Sean was trying to save you from temptation?” Rory had the courage to ask.
Chloe stared at the lantern. The thunder had receded into the distance, and only her voice filled the darkness.
“He killed himself to save me,” she said. “No one knows this, but it’s time I said it out loud.” She let out a long sigh. Her hands were folded in her lap. “Sean and I were lovers,” she said.
“Oh, Chloe,” Daria said.
“It started years ago,” Chloe said. “I would see him when I came here in the summer, and in those early years, I talked to him about what it was like for me, being a nun. We talked about our vows of celibacy and chastity and how hard it was to honor them. He had as much trouble with them as I did, and that reassured me. But the more we talked about it, the more we were drawn to each other.”
Chloe’s voice suddenly broke, and Daria moved to the sofa and put her hand over her sister’s.
“I’d reached the point where I felt it was not so terrible to break that vow,” Chloe continued. “I felt angry with the Church for imposing it so rigidly. It was a law made by man, not by God. I was able to rationalize that someone could be devoted to religious life and still be able to give and receive love with a partner at the same time. I still believe that. Completely. And so I felt comfortable about what we were doing. But for Sean, it wasn’t that simple, and so a few years ago, we stopped the physical part of our relationship. He had been in turmoil over it, and I didn’t want him to suffer any longer.” Chloe’s voice broke again, and this time she withdrew her hands from beneath Daria’s to bury her head in them. Daria stroked her back. She looked across the room at Rory, whose face was somber in the light from the lantern.
Chloe raised her head again. “I was careful not to push him,” she said. “I tried to be…sexless, around him. And it worked, at least until this summer. I don’t think it was anything I did, in particular, but we were drawn to each other, very strongly, and then the intimacy started up again.” Chloe wept openly now. “Sean was torturing himself,” she said. “He called himself a sinner—I hate that word!—and he thought he was tempting me into joining him in that sin. He thought he was responsible for my downfall. That’s what he called it, although I don’t agree. I tried to dissuade him from thinking that way, but obviously I wasn’t successful.” Chloe’s shoulders trembled with her tears, and Daria tightened her arm around her.
“I miss him so much,” Chloe said.
“I’m so sorry, Chloe,” Daria said. “And I’m sorry you’ve had to keep this all to yourself.” She was worried about Chloe, not just because of what she’d revealed, but because she feared that her sister would come to regret having spoken so openly. She knew Chloe’s confession would never have been given without the protection of darkness and the peculiar atmosphere of the night.
Chloe drew a deep breath, then seemed to pull herself together. “I have a lot of soul-searching to do in the next few weeks,” she said. “A lot of praying to do. I can’t bear the thought of no longer being a nun, but at the same time, I can’t live with the restrictions…and I can’t live with what those restrictions did to Sean.”
“How can I help?” Daria asked.
Chloe nearly smiled. “Just be patient with my…preoccupation,” she said. Then she suddenly pressed her hands to her temples. “I can’t believe I told you all of this,” she said. She looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry I dumped so much on the two of you.”
“I’m glad you could, Chloe,” Rory said, and Daria was touched by the tenderness in his voice.
Chloe looked at Rory. “I apologize for blowing up at you the other day when you suggested Sean’s death might have something to do with your conversation with him,” she said. “I was in a lot of pain then. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
“And I shouldn’t have talked to you about it right after he died,” Rory said. “I knew you were grieving. I just didn’t realize to what extent.”
“I want to go upstairs,” Chloe said, suddenly hugging her arms across her chest. “I just want to sleep through the rest of the storm. I want to wake up in the morning and find Shelly…” Her voice broke yet again. “I want to find her home and safe.”
“I know,” Daria said, squeezing her shoulder. “We’ll find her in the morning, once the storm has passed.”
Chloe got to her feet, and Daria handed her one of the flashlights. “Take this with you,” she said.
She and Rory were quiet as Chloe climbed the stairs. It was a few minutes more before Daria found her voice. “I’m in shock,” she said in a near whisper.
“It’s very sad,” Rory said.
They were quiet for another minute, still trying to absorb all they had heard, when a sudden loud crack of thunder made them both jump.
Daria drew her feet into the couch and wrapped her arms tightly around her legs. “God, Rory,” she said. “Where is Shelly?”
39
RAIN POUNDED AGAINST THE ROOF AND BATTERED THE plywood covering the windows. It was scary to be in a stilt house right on the bay with this storm raging outside, but Shelly was safe in Andy’s arms. He’d promised her his house could endure anything the weather threw at them, and she believed him. She always believed him.
They had made love in the pitch-black darkness, the thunder cracking through the sky outside, and now they were nestled together beneath the coverlet on Andy’s bed. They were nearly alone on the bay. Andy’s foolhardy next-door neighbors had refused to evacuate as well, but she guessed that these two houses were probably the only ones occupied on this stretch of water.
Andy kissed her temple. “You know we’ll have to tell Daria soon,” he said.
Shelly stiffened against him. She had taken the pregnancy test just that morning, and the results were positive. It was no surprise to her, but now she had to face reality. “I’m afraid to tell her,” she said.
“I know, but we have to,” Andy said. “We really should have told her long ago.”
“She’ll try to break us up,” Shelly said. “That’s what she’s always done before.”
“Well, this time is different. First of all, she likes me and she didn’t like those other guys you were seeing. Second of all, this time there’s a baby involved.”
“She’ll probably make me have an abortion.”
“She can’t make you do anything.”
Shelly snuggled closer to Andy. It felt so good to know he would stick by her. She would not be battling Daria alone.
“Daria is the best, most wonderful sister in the world, but she’s never let me live my own life.”
“She’s never let herself live her own life, either,” Andy said.
Shelly raised her head to look at him, but it was too dark to see his face. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, she’s always had to look out for your welfare. She’s always put you first.”
Shelly shut her eyes and let her head fall to Andy’s shoulder again. She knew that was the truth, but it hurt to think about it, to t
hink about the sacrifices Daria had made for her. Even right this minute, she was causing problems for Daria. She knew that Daria had not evacuated the Outer Banks when she should have. She’d made Andy drive by the cul-de-sac to see if Daria and Chloe had left, and she was upset to learn they had not. It was because of her. They’d been all set to leave, but they’d stayed behind for her, even though she’d left that note telling them to go.
“I’m always messing up Daria’s life,” she said. “But I just couldn’t leave.”
“I know,” Andy said. He’d been more than willing to ride out the storm with her. Andy was like that. He would do anything for her.
“Did you hear that?” Andy asked. He raised his head to listen. All Shelly could hear was the sound of the hurricane battering the house. Then suddenly she heard someone yelling. Pounding on Andy’s back door, calling Andy’s name.
Andy got out of bed and pulled on his shorts. He ran into the kitchen as Shelly dressed. By the time she got into the kitchen, Andy was pulling open the back door, and his neighbor, Jim, nearly fell into the room.
“We need help!” Jim said. He wore a yellow slicker, and water poured from it onto Andy’s kitchen floor. “They’re stuck! They’re trapped.”
“Slow down,” Andy said. “What do you mean? Who’s—”
“The boat turned over,” Jim said. He tried to look through Andy’s kitchen window, but plywood blocked his view. “I’d tied it to the pier,” he said, “but when the water rose and the wind picked up, it looked like it was coming loose. So me and Julie went out there to tie it tighter, and we didn’t realize Jack was right behind us. The boat flipped onto the pier, and Jack and Julie are underneath it.”
“Oh, God.” Shelly covered her mouth with her hand, picturing Jim and Julie’s adorable five-year-old son trapped beneath the boat. She started toward the door, but Andy grabbed her arm.
“Get the slicker out of the front closet first,” he said. “I’ll meet you out there.”
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