by Nan Dixon
He smiled. “I love you, Mom.”
But now he was even more confused.
* * *
“LAWRENCE IS CHANGING paths again.” Naomi jerked her head toward the bar television. “I don’t think the hurricane will miss us.”
The weather station had been on since Carolina had arrived for her Thursday bartending shift. People jammed the front of the bar, watching the coverage.
A man sitting in front of her said, “When it hit the Bahamas, it altered the path. Actually they said it ‘bounced.’”
“Bounced?”
The man winked. “It’s a highly technical hurricane.”
Carolina smiled. “Of course.”
A ticker scrolled across the bottom of the TV screen. “They’re closing SCAD tomorrow night,” someone called from the group.
The college was closing Friday night?
“Evacuations won’t be far behind,” someone else said.
Tybee was always evacuated because of storm surges. When was high tide? She handed a customer their receipt. “Do they know where it will hit landfall?”
The customer passed her credit card and the receipt back to Carolina. “North of here.”
Ella was driving back to Savannah from Hilton Head tomorrow. Would her friend make it? Let Ella stay safe.
“What was the rainfall in the Bahamas?” she asked. She needed to pay more attention, even though she was working.
“Over a foot in twenty-four hours,” a woman answered.
If they evacuated Tybee, where would she and Mamá go? She sent a quick text to Lorraine, the legal assistant who had volunteered to stay with Mamá tonight.
Everything all right?
We’re having a great time catching up. We finished the champagne I brought with me, although I suggested we not sit out on the porch since it was raining like a banshee. Sitting down to dinner now.
Thank you.
Carolina worked the counter, pouring drinks and placing meal and appetizer orders, all while listening to hurricane talk. If they evacuated Tybee, she had to prep the house.
Abby came out with a couple of orders for the people sitting at the bar and set them at the server station.
“Thanks.” Carolina took the plates from Abby. “I’ve got this.”
Abby nodded, then turned to watch the weather. “This is awful.”
Carolina wasn’t sure if she should answer. “Looks like it’s good for business.”
Abby’s gaze took in the restaurant and the people. “Make sure the people standing at the bar know they can get tables.”
“Will do.” Always make a buck, Abby.
“How’s your mother doing?” Abby asked.
Carolina checked the order to figure out who got what plate. “She’s...okay.”
“Is she still on Tybee?”
“Yes.” Carolina took the food to the customers, made sure they had silverware and condiments. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Abby was still at the server station. “Listen, if you have to evacuate, bring your mother here. To the carriage house.”
Carolina blinked, not sure she’d really heard what Abby said. “Are you kidding?”
“Where else would you go?” Abby asked.
“I... I was going to wait to see what shelters they opened.”
Abby stepped closer. “You’d rather stay in a shelter than with family?”
Family? Carolina’s hand started to shake. “No.”
“Here’s your key.” Abby pushed it into her hand. “Just in case.”
“Thank you.” The words came out as a whisper. Abby probably hadn’t even heard them.
After Abby walked away, Carolina turned her back on the customers and took deep breaths. When that wasn’t enough, she bent over and tucked her head between her knees.
“Are you okay?”
She whipped her head up. “Sage?”
“Are you all right?” he asked again.
“I... What are you doing here?”
He took a seat at the bar. His seat.
Sage leaned toward her, like he was going to give her a kiss. Then blinked, his green eyes concealed for a moment before his gaze locked on hers. Old habit. Had to be. He’d broken up with her.
“Why are you here?” Her voice cracked.
“I heard the hurricane path changed and I was worried about you and your mother.”
Instead of tears, her throat clogged. She’d made up her mind that she and her mother were alone, that she would handle whatever life threw at her. Now, here was Abby calling her family and Sage checking up on her.
“Thank you,” she choked out.
He stared. “You’re upset. What’s wrong?”
Some of her customers pushed away their empty drinks. “I have to work.” Really, she had to get away from Sage.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asked the women.
“Just our checks. And make them separate? Split the wings and the fried green tomatoes three ways.”
“Sure.” Creating their bill felt like higher math, but she finally got it right.
Why was Sage here? Why was Abby calling her family?
“Here you go.” She handed out the bills and waited for their credit cards.
“Thanks.” One of the women said, “Shoot. I don’t think we timed this right. The rain is starting.”
Carolina glanced out the patio windows. Long raindrops slid down the glass. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled.
After processing the credit cards, she handed them back to the customers. “Stay dry.”
They laughed, adding their tips and gathering their purses.
She was going to need all the tips she could get if the hurricane swept up here and she wouldn’t be able to sing or tend bar.
The back of her neck tingled. Sage was staring.
Below the counter, she clenched and relaxed her fists. He’d made it clear they were through, why was he tormenting her? She headed to him. “What can I get you?”
“Pick something.” He waved his hand. “I want to know why you’re upset. Is it your mother?”
She couldn’t pour out her worries to Sage. Not anymore. “It’s not something you need to worry about.”
Before he could interrogate her, she hustled back to the taps, grabbed a cold mug and picked the latest beer added to the menu.
Tucking a napkin on the bar, she set down the mug. “Do you want anything to eat?”
“Abby’s Comfort Burger, I guess.” As she turned to place the order, he caught her hand. “What’s going on?”
The guy next to Sage stared at the way he clutched her hand and mouthed, Do you need help?
She shook her head and tugged her hand out of Sage’s grasp. “There’s a lot of people here. I need to work.”
Sage nodded. “When it gets quieter, I’d like to talk.”
So he could remind her how she disgusted him? Not happening. “You’ve made it clear, we’re through.”
His body jerked like she’d hit him. “Just to talk.”
She didn’t commit. She entered his order and worked the bar.
At least Naomi didn’t mention anything about Sage or her ghoulish smile, so maybe she looked normal.
But she wasn’t normal. She was all sorts of off-the-rails crazy. Her stomach whirled along with the thoughts spinning in her head.
“They’ve declared a hurricane watch,” a customer said. “Tybee City offices close tomorrow. Looks like we’re getting hit. Time to get the storm shutters on.”
The man next to Sage held up his phone. “Evacuation orders are out for all the islands east of Savannah.”
“When do they want people out by?” she asked the man who’d announced the evacuations.
“Tomorrow evening by five.”
Okay. She could do this.
“Do you need to leave?” Naomi asked.
“I... Yes.” She rubbed her temple. “I have to get the windows covered.”
“I’ll do it,” Sage said.
“You’ll put up the shutters?” Carolina shook her head.
A server dropped off Sage’s order. He asked, “Can I get this to go?”
Carolina pulled out a box and slipped his burger and fries into it.
“Do you have a place to stay?” Sage pulled out a twenty and a couple of ones.
“What?”
“Where will you stay? I’m offering my apartment.”
She was in an alternative reality. That had to be what was happening. Because Abby’s and Sage’s concern didn’t make sense. “Abby’s letting us stay here.”
“She is? But—” His mouth dropped open, then shut with a snap. “Where are the shutters?”
“In the left carport.” She pushed back her hair. “You slip them in the trough thing. Then slip over a bolt and there are wing nuts to tighten them down.”
“I’ll figure it out.” He pushed in the stool. “Who’s with Rosa right now?”
“Lorraine. She worked with my mother.” She was still reeling. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “Tell her I’m on my way.”
Her head whirled. Maybe surviving on your own meant allowing people to help you when you needed it.
* * *
WIND PELLETED SAGE’S truck with leaves and debris, trying to blow him back to Savannah. The forecasters had said these were feeder bands from the upcoming storm. What would a real hurricane be like? By the time Sage drove across the downed palm fronds covering Carolina’s street, his hands were sore from strangling the steering wheel.
“Thanks for the help, Kaden, Nigel.” He had them on speaker, trying to nail down what he should get done.
“Strap everything down in those carports,” Nigel said. “Or get it into the house.”
“Will do,” Sage said. “Do you need any help?”
“We’re done here,” Kaden said. “House is locked down and power is off. We’re almost back to Savannah. Do you need help?”
“I don’t think so.” But he’d never prepped for a hurricane.
“Good luck.” Kaden hung up.
He wasn’t sure why he was helping Carolina. Except she and her mother were in need.
And he loved her. Nope. He thought he’d loved her. But had he really known her?
Maybe while he hung her storm windows he could sort through his mother’s suggestion of walking in Carolina’s boots. All his life he’d tried to live up to his father’s legacy, but Mom had bulldozed dear old dad off his pedestal. Sage’s life mission was fucked. Now who could he live up to?
His mother. Through everything, she’d maintained her honor. Unfortunately Mom didn’t approve of how he’d treated Carolina.
He pulled into the Castillo driveway.
Dashing through the rain, he knocked softly on the door. A stranger answered.
“Lorraine?” he asked. “I’m Sage.”
“Carolina let me know you’d be coming.” She held the door open.
He shook his head. “No need to bring in the rain. I’ll start putting up the shutters.”
Lorraine chewed her lip. “Rosa’s already in bed.”
“Okay, I’ll avoid her side of the house.”
In the carport, he grabbed the ladder he’d used while painting. He’d noted the pile of metal shutters lashed in the corner of the carport. Taped to the metal was a Ziploc bag of wing nuts. He sorted the shutters, glad there were only three different sizes.
He pulled the tallest shutters, tucked the Ziploc bag in his pocket, and headed for the porch. The wind tried to snatch the metal out of his hands. He hung on, not wanting to chase them through the neighborhood.
He eyed the shutter system. They’d never had anything like this on the Texas Panhandle. Setting the first corrugated shutter into the upper track, he fit the bottom of the panel over a long bolt. “I get it.”
He latched the shutter in place with the wing nuts. By the time he’d finished one side of the porch, his shirt and shorts stuck to his body. The howling wind and pounding rain blocked all sound. After attaching the remaining porch shutters, water streamed into his eyes and he was doing the install by feel more than by sight.
He worked his way around the main level of the house, fitting in the top, hooking the bottom over the bolts and adding and tightening wing nuts. His fingers were pruney from the water. He turned and pain ripped through his forearm. Damn bolt. Blood mingled with the rain.
Time for the second floor. He couldn’t hear the clang of the ladder over the wind gusts. Was the wind strong enough to blow him off the ladder? Sure would be nice if he had someone to hold and stabilize it, but he was on his own. And he was damned if he’d leave this shit for Carolina.
Climbing up and down the ladder was taking too long, so he tucked three shutters under one arm and, one-handed, climbed the wet ladder. Halfway up, his sneakers slipped. He dropped the shutters with a clatter and grabbed at the wobbling ladder.
“What are you doing?” Carolina yelled up at him.
He hadn’t noticed her car lights pulling into the drive. The rain had already soaked her hair and it hung down her back like long black ropes. She stood on the shutters so they didn’t blow away.
“Putting up shutters.” He jerked his head as he climbed down. “Get out of the rain.”
“Idiot men,” she muttered, grabbing a shutter and starting up the ladder. “I’ll hand them up.”
“Get inside.”
She ignored him. Probably good that he was soaking wet. Her glare might have incinerated him.
He took the shutter and jammed it into place. She was already hauling up the next shutter as he locked down the first panel.
The rain pinging on the siding, keeping their conversation to things like “Got it” “Next” and “Do you need another?”
They finished two sides of the house. Then lightning flashed.
“Get off this metal ladder,” he yelled. “I’ll finish in the morning.”
She hauled shutters back into the carport and secured them. “Thank you. I’m not sure how long it would have taken me to install the shutters.”
“No problem.”
He followed her up the main stairs into the now dark porch. They toed off their soaked sneakers. He wrung out his T-shirt. She did the same with her hair and water pooled at their feet.
Lorraine opened the door. “You’re both soaked. Here.”
She handed them towels and they dried off in the dark. With the shutters installed, the only light came through the doorway. The TV flickered in the background.
“Lorraine, thank you for staying with Mamá.” Carolina stepped into the house.
Sage followed.
“I was happy to do it. We laughed—a lot.” Lorraine took the wet towels from them. “If you’ll tell me what your schedule is, I’ll organize visits from the office staff so you can work.”
Carolina pressed her fingers on her trembling lips. “You would do that?”
“Of course. We’ve wanted to help Rosa, but didn’t know how.” Lorraine headed to the kitchen and into the laundry room. There was a metal clang and then the dryer hummed.
When Lorraine returned, she said, “My contact information is on the counter. Once this hurricane blows over, give me a call or send me a text. I’ll do the rest.”
Carolina’s eyes grew red. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You don’t have to. Your mother’s my friend.” Lorraine zipped her raincoat and pulled up the hood. “How were the roads down from Savannah?”
“Other than standing water by the fort,
they’re fine,” Carolina said.
“Oh, I didn’t even think.” Lorraine took Carolina’s hands. “Do you have a place to stay?”
Carolina nodded.
“Good.” Lorraine gave Carolina a hug and headed out to the porch. “You call if that falls through or if you need anything.”
“Thank you. So much.” Carolina’s voice cracked.
Sage held open the outside door and Lorraine popped up her umbrella and pointed it like a sword into the wind.
Then he shut and locked the door.
Carolina wrapped her arms around her waist. Tears hung in her eyes. “Aren’t you...?”
“Going home?”
She nodded, her eyes full of pain.
He couldn’t stop his feet from moving closer to her. But he didn’t pull her into his arms. As much as every muscle and nerve ending wanted to comfort her, he couldn’t. Because what would his father...
Hell, that mantra wasn’t going cross his mind again. What would his mother do? Probably forgive Carolina.
“I might not be able to get back here in the morning,” he said. “I’ll bunk on the couch and finish in the morning.”
“I keep repeating myself, but thank you.” She headed down the hall toward her mother’s room.
He flipped off the light, plunging the room into blackness except for the television’s flickering blue light. Rain pounded against the siding and shutters. Gusts of wind rattled the metal.
With his phone, he searched articles on prepping a house for a hurricane.
Shutters. Pull electrical cords. Turn off main. Roll rugs and take them above possible water levels. How high could the water get in a house built on stilts?
He waded through storm surge information. How had a Texan from the Panhandle ended up living in a hurricane zone?
Carolina’s soft footsteps had him looking up.
“How’s your mother?” he asked.
“Sleeping.”
“Good.” He waved her over, holding up his phone. “Can you help me understand what needs to get done before we evacuate?”
She sat next to him. The warm, yeasty scent of beer and her delicate floral perfume had him inhaling to catch more. His body ached to be closer.
He wasn’t Pavlov’s dog. Just because she smelled like the last time they’d made love, didn’t mean they were ever going to be intimate again. But the dull ache filling his belly sharpened to cutting pain.