by Amy Reade
“Tomorrow morning, first thing,” was Graydon’s swift reply. “The weatherman is saying that there’s a strong possibility that the hurricane is going to make a direct hit not far from here. We need to get everything secured within the next twenty-four hours.”
Just then I got a text from Lucy’s school. All nursery school classes were cancelled the following day to allow families time to prepare for the storm. I was starting to get nervous. Living in Chicago, I was never much concerned about hurricanes. They were something that I followed from thousands of miles away on cable news. Now it looked like I might be in the middle of one, and I was very anxious, especially for Lucy.
My phone vibrated. Brad. I knew what he was calling for and I excused myself from the table and went into the drawing room to take the call.
“Hello?”
“I assume you’ve heard about the hurricane heading for South Carolina,” he began. “When are you leaving?”
“What are you talking about? We’re not leaving.”
“You have to. If you don’t I’ll take back my permission for her to be there with you.”
“Don’t threaten me, Brad. She and I are staying here and she’ll be just fine.”
“How do you know?”
“The owner of Peppernell Manor has assured me that this house has been through lots of hurricanes and there’s never been so much as a broken window,” I lied.
“Sure,” he sneered.
“Brad, I think it’s safer for us at this point to stay here than it is to go running off somewhere else.” It wasn’t true, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“How long will it be before the storm makes landfall?”
“Could be any time now. Could be by tomorrow.”
“You’re lying, Carleigh. I’ve heard that it won’t be for a couple of days.”
“Why did you ask, then?”
“You have plenty of time to get out of there.”
“Brad, why can’t you just trust me to keep her safe? If it seems like the storm is too strong, there’s a huge basement. We’ll go down there.”
He was quiet for a moment, probably thinking.
“Besides, I frankly think we’re safer in the basement than we are driving out on the road to get somewhere else.”
“Well,” he began, “are you sure you’ll be with her the whole time?” Good. He was starting to come to his senses.
“Of course! What else would I do?”
“Hmm. I guess it would be all right if you stayed there, as long as you promise to keep her right with you all the time.”
“You know I will. I don’t want anything to happen to her, either.”
“Have Lucy call me as often as you can.”
“I will,” I promised.
The next day we were all busy getting the manor ready in case the hurricane made landfall nearby. Graydon and Heath took a ladder all around the outside of the house to make sure each set of shutters was in working order and to put large X shapes in each windowpane with strong masking tape. Then they closed the shutters, leaving each room in near-complete darkness. Walking around indoors was eerie, like walking around in the twilight, even though the weather outside was sunny and, to my eyes, beautiful. Lucy trotted along beside me as I helped Evie and Phyllis move lawn furniture down into the basement. The garage, now free of its police tape, would have been a more logical destination for the furniture, but we all agreed that we didn’t want to go in there. We also put Heath’s patio furniture inside the carriage house. Vivian had gone into Charleston to supervise hurricane preparations at her store. I shuddered thinking of all the beautiful historic artifacts that could be ruined or damaged by a hurricane.
After the lawn furniture had been stored safely, Evie and Lucy and I went indoors where our assignment from Graydon was to make sure that the manor’s emergency kit was completely stocked. Evie assured me that it remained fully stocked at all times so our job was just to double-check.
The kit was kept in a large storage closet in the basement. I couldn’t believe all the things that were necessary in case of an emergency requiring the residents of Peppernell Manor to evacuate or live without electricity for an extended period. There were the things I expected: lots of water, a first-aid kit, flashlights, a large supply of batteries, candles, matches in waterproof containers, canned food and a can opener, a battery-operated radio, and a supply of personal items like toothbrushes, toothpaste, and deodorant. But there were other things I never would have thought of: powdered milk and sports drinks, sunscreen, bug spray, a camera for insurance purposes, paper and pens, a waterproof and fireproof box for any important documents that were kept upstairs in the house, a tool kit, bedding, and even a supply of books and games to play when boredom set in. The emergency items couldn’t really be called a “kit.” It was more like an entire room filled with items that might be necessary in case of a dire emergency. Evie told me that the only things missing were cash and travelers’ checks, which Graydon always kept in a safe upstairs.
I was astounded by the amount of work that went into preparing for a hurricane that might or might not strike.
“Do you guys do this every time there’s a hurricane in the forecast?” I asked Evie.
“Only when it looks likely that the hurricane is going to hit nearby,” she answered.
“This is pretty late in the season for a hurricane, isn’t it?”
“Yes. There were a couple of close calls over the summer, but nothing like this. We only shuttered the windows for those.”
We went upstairs where Phyllis and Ruby were busy making quick breads and some cookies for the “kit” in the basement. Lucy wanted to help them, but Heath called me and asked me to put together a kit for Addie in the carriage house. Lucy decided she’d rather visit her furry friend than bake.
We went over to the carriage house, where Addie greeted us excitedly. People say animals know when a storm is coming, but Addie acted the same as always, running around in circles, barking, and jumping with sheer joy. We found a large box and filled it with dry food, treats, towels, fresh water in gallon jugs, and an extra leash. Lucy was in charge of choosing a number of Addie’s toys to keep in the box. She took a photo of Addie with my cell phone and I wrote down the name and address of Addie’s veterinarian and put the paper in the box for Heath. We didn’t want to leave Addie again, so we stayed for a little while to play with her on Heath’s patio. She must have been confused by all the activity around her, so we wanted to give her some special attention.
After a little while we went back to the manor to help with additional preparations. Graydon insisted that the radio and television stay on to keep track of the storm; there now seemed to be a general consensus among the weather experts that the storm was headed right for the Charleston area. I was getting more and more nervous, but I tried to stay busy to keep my mind off the hurricane and to keep Lucy occupied.
We worked around the property for the rest of the afternoon and then went over to the stables with Heath to check on the animals there. We made sure the animals had plenty of food and water in case no one was able to get there during or right after the storm, though Heath indicated that he would make every effort to get to the stables to tend to the animals. He put tape on each stable window while Lucy and I made sure that the chickens were secured inside their coop.
Then we went back to the manor to wait through the long hours before the hurricane was due to come. It would be at least twenty-four hours before we would begin to feel the first hints of the storm. We all had dinner together in the dining room, darkened due to the covered windows. It was really rather cozy, with the lights shining warmly and the silverware clinking quietly in the subdued atmosphere. Lucy thought it was fun.
After dinner Heath went to the carriage house where Addie was no doubt anxious to see him, and Lucy and Evie and I went upstairs to read and play with her dolls. We spent a very pleasant evening, just the three of us and the dolls.
The next day
I worked on the main staircase of the manor. The steps were worn and scuffed, and I wanted to clean them as much as possible before refinishing them. I planned to refinish every other step first, then let them dry and refinish the remaining steps. Otherwise there would be no way for everyone to get up or down the stairs.
Lucy played with some of her toys in the drawing room while I worked. Evie was busy up in her room, making calls and doing some work on her computer that might not be possible if the storm knocked out power. Heath and Vivian were both in Charleston making final storm preparations. I knew Vivian was very nervous about the antiques and artwork in her store and she was spending as much time as possible there to make sure the artifacts would be safe.
It was a day of waiting, of apprehension. The weather outside was strangely calm and only a little cloudy. There was no rain, no wind. I took Lucy over to the carriage house for a little while to play with Addie on the patio and it was actually pleasant sitting out there. It truly was the calm before the storm.
We were at dinner that evening when the rain started spattering on the windows. The storm had arrived. Though it started with raindrops hitting the shutters, it became strong quickly as the wind picked up. Heath had joined us, but planned to go back to the carriage house right after dinner to stay with Addie. Strangely, Vivian had not yet arrived from Charleston. Graydon tried calling her cell phone, but it went right to voicemail. He excused himself from the table and went into the kitchen to leave her a message, which we could all hear clearly from the dining room.
“Viv, have you been paying attention? There’s a hurricane coming! Get home now! Quit worrying about the things in that store of yours. They’re only things. Your family is waiting for you.”
He came back to the table and looked around sheepishly. He must have realized we could all hear his raised voice. He spoke to Evie and Heath.
“I don’t know where in the world your mother is. She knows better than to be out in this weather. I’m starting to get worried.”
Evie spoke soothingly. “Daddy, I’m sure she knows what she’s doing. It isn’t as if she’s never been in a hurricane before. She isn’t going to do anything stupid.”
Heath nodded. “Don’t worry, Dad. She probably forgot to turn her phone on. Or maybe she forgot to charge it. I’ll bet she’s on her way home now.”
I hated for Heath to leave after we finished dinner. He gave Lucy a big hug and then held me in his strong arms before he went back to the carriage house.
“Stay safe,” he said, his lips against my hair. “I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.” He kissed me good night, and I knew I would be a nervous wreck after he left.
The rest of us went our separate ways after dinner. It wasn’t long before the wind started groaning around the house and the rain began slashing against the windows, and each of us gradually made our way to the drawing room, where we could be together. Vivian still wasn’t home yet. Graydon had a portable radio with him and he kept an ear to the weather all the time. Every time there was a noise outside, he would jump up and walk to the front door, peering outside into the storm. And every time, he would return to the drawing room and announce, “That wasn’t her.” For all they seemed to get on each other’s nerves, Graydon was clearly worried about his wife’s absence.
As time dragged on, the storm worsened. The wind shrieked outside, slamming into the house with tremendous force. It was amazing to me that the manor didn’t buckle under its strength. As Graydon explained, many people think a hurricane is a big thunderstorm, but it’s really the wind that does such a massive amount of damage. The rain was relentless, but it was the keening sound of the wind that I knew I wouldn’t be able to forget. The house shuddered each time a gust roared past, and I could tell Lucy was afraid. She buried her head in my lap and I stroked her forehead as I tried to get her to relax and perhaps even to sleep.
From somewhere in the house came a thunderous crash and the sound of breaking glass.
“Broken window. Must have blown the shutter off,” Graydon mumbled. “She can’t be out in this.” He got up and walked out of the drawing room. Evie followed him and turned to the rest of us saying, “He’s going upstairs. He’ll find out what the noise was.” She yelled to him, “Daddy, do you want some help?”
“No,” came the reply from upstairs. “Just stay where you are.”
He returned several minutes later, his hair disheveled and shirtsleeves rolled up.
“One of Ruby’s shutters blew off and the glass in one of her windows broke. I tried to stuff it with a sheet. We’ll get the window fixed as soon as we can once the storm is over, Ruby.”
“Thanks, Graydon,” she said gratefully.
She and Phyllis had been playing a card game by lamplight. As the game finished, there was a noise from outside that was different from the screaming wind to which we were quickly becoming accustomed. It was more of a crashing sound, accompanied by the raw crunch of crumpling metal.
Phyllis was the first to reach the window, followed closely by Graydon.
“It’s Vivian!” Graydon announced grimly. “What is she doing out there?”
He ran to the front door and yanked it open. A tremendous gust of wind knocked him right off his feet as he stepped out into the howling hurricane. Phyllis, who was right behind him, knelt down and tried to help him up. He was on his hands and knees, cursing, when Evie rushed up behind him in the doorway.
“Daddy, are you hurt? Let me see!” Evie took her father’s arm and helped him stand up. They turned and went into the house, Graydon protesting that he needed to help Vivian.
Phyllis looked up at the figure lurching across the front lawn of Peppernell Manor.
It was Vivian. She was obviously trying to make her way to the front door while carrying a very large, bulky box. She stumbled and sprawled onto the ground.
Phyllis ran out into the wind and rain and bent down over Vivian’s prostrate body. She tugged at Vivian’s arm and helped her to stand up. Lucy and I watched the scene from inside the doorway. As Phyllis began leading her back into the manor, Vivian began to gesticulate wildly, yelling something, but I couldn’t hear her words over the roar of the wind. Phyllis evidently understood what Vivian was trying to say, because she turned around. I could see her gesturing to Vivian and they both returned to the manor, heads bent, slowly making their way through the storm to the front door. The wind was blowing so hard that they were both clearly having trouble staying upright.
When they finally reached the door, Vivian saw me and reached for my arm. “I dropped the box with some of the paintings for the front hall!” she gasped.
I looked at her, mouth agape. “Vivian, what were you thinking? Who cares about the paintings?”
“We have to go back out there and get them! They’ll be ruined!” she insisted.
Phyllis was listening and turned around, her hair bedraggled and water dripping from the tips of her fingers. “I’ll get them,” she stated quietly.
Vivian stared at her, eyes wide. “Would you, Phyllis?”
Phyllis nodded and headed back out into the wind and rain. With a slight limp, Graydon charged into the front hall in a rage.
“What were you doing?” he demanded. There was a loose bandage over one eye and he was holding his right arm close to his side, as if it pained him to move it.
“Graydon, just listen. You know those paintings that Carleigh and I planned to hang in the front hall. I had to bring them home with me to protect them from the hurricane.”
“That was the stupidest thing you’ve ever done!” he bellowed. “And now you’ve probably wrecked your car, too! Was that the crunching sound we heard?”
“Graydon, I simply refuse to discuss it with you until you’ve calmed down. Yes, my car was the crunching sound you heard. And Phyllis is out there right now retrieving the box with the paintings.”
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Graydon yelled. “How can you send someone outside in a hurricane?!”
“She voluntee
red,” Vivian said quietly.
I stood at the front door, waiting for Phyllis as she struggled to the door with the large box that Vivian had dropped. I wanted to help her, but Lucy was clinging to me and whimpering, terrified that I would leave her to go out into the storm. I could see Graydon and Vivian out of the corner of my eye.
Graydon was looking into Vivian’s eyes. “Thank God you’re all right,” he told her. She smiled at him. “But you shouldn’t have sent Phyllis out into the storm. She deserves better than that from you.”
“I’ll apologize, Graydon,” said Vivian with a pout.
“That’s my girl,” he said. They joined me in peering out into the storm. Phyllis was lugging the box of paintings up to the front of the house. I ran out to help her and together we got the box up the stairs. She pulled and I pushed it through the front door.
“There’s your box,” she told Vivian.
“Thank you, Phyllis,” Vivian replied. She glanced at Graydon. “I’m sorry I let you go out into the storm.”
Phyllis nodded her head in acknowledgment.
Vivian continued. “And thank you for coming to my rescue out there.” She looked at her feet. Vivian, who was usually so poised and confident, was clearly not used to apologizing.
“You’re welcome,” Phyllis stated.
I turned to Phyllis. “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes and into a bathrobe,” I told her briskly. “You go change and I’ll make you something hot to drink.” She looked at me gratefully. Lucy trotted behind me into the kitchen and watched while I made Phyllis and Vivian cups of hot sweet tea.
Hot sweet tea during a hurricane . . . I was getting to be a real Southerner.
I set up a tray with the tea and a plate of benne wafers and knocked on Phyllis’s door, Lucy still following me silently.
“Come in.” She sat in her living room in a bathrobe and slippers.
“You okay, Phyllis?”
“I am now. Thank you for bringing me tea. That’s some storm out there.”
“With the exception of Ruby’s shutter and window, the house seems to be making it through the hurricane just fine.”