Riley looked around the living room. With the rug cleaned and vacuumed, the walls washed down, and the slipcovers washed and smoothed out, the room had a certain shabby cottage charm that it hadn’t possessed initially.
“Hmm. We’ll see. Like I said, if this storm gets worse, we won’t stay on the island at all.”
“You’re no fun,” Maggy said. “Mimi said this morning she doesn’t care what happens. She’s not leaving Shutters.”
“Mimi seems to have forgotten what it was like to live through Hurricane Fran.”
“Were you here then?”
“I was,” Riley said, her voice grim. “We had a direct hit on Belle Isle. Winds of a hundred and fifteen miles an hour, and there was a storm surge of about ten feet. It was terrifying, looking out the windows and seeing that wall of water crashing over the seawall below. Huge old oak trees that were here for over a hundred years were ripped out of the ground. The porch roof came all the way off. When the winds got really bad, the whole house shook. Bebo and I got in the bathtub and put sofa cushions over our heads in case the roof caved in. I have never been so scared in my life.”
Maggy shivered. “Do you think it’ll get that bad this time?”
“I don’t know. And I don’t plan to be here if it does.”
64
The rain slashed at the hood of Riley’s yellow rain slicker as she dragged the last of the Adirondack chairs into the garden shed at Shutters, stacking it alongside the other seven chairs.
Her shoulders ached, her jeans were soaked all the way to her knees, and she was chilled to the bone. She locked the shed door and trudged back to the house. The wind whistled in the tops of the live oaks, and palm fronds and clumps of Spanish moss went flying past her head as she crossed the lawn.
She left her rubber boots on the porch and went inside, where she found Evelyn assembling her stockpile of flashlights, candles, and battery-operated lanterns.
“The chairs are locked up,” she reported. “What next?”
“Did Henry finish with the storm shutters?”
“He did, and you need to pay him double for climbing that ladder to put up the ones on the second story. I was so scared I could hardly watch.”
“Have you talked to your brother?”
“Yes. He said he’s almost finished boarding up his windows, so he and Scott should be here in about an hour.”
“Good.” Evelyn nodded. “Now, could you go over to the carriage house and check on your aunt? There’s no telling what kind of craziness she’s gotten up to. That old fool thinks this storm is better than a circus sideshow.”
Just then, the front door opened and Roo walked in with Maggy, water streaming off their boots and rain slickers. Maggy’s dark hair was plastered to her head, her face pink, and her eyes electric with excitement. Roo took off her red vinyl rain hat and tossed it onto the hall coatrack. The old woman shook her gray hair like a dog, splashing raindrops everywhere.
“Oh my word! What have you two been up to?” Evelyn demanded.
“I took Maggy down to the beach so she could experience a real hurricane,” Roo said.
“Mom! It was so awesome,” Maggy enthused. “Me and Roo had our own hurricane party. The seagulls were, like, flying backward. And the clouds are so thick, you can’t even see Big Belle. Roo said it was almost as good as Hurricane Floyd. You know, that was the most people ever killed in a hurricane in North Carolina.”
“I didn’t even know you’d gone out,” Riley said. “Roo, I wouldn’t have said yes if you’d asked if you could take her down there. It’s not safe!”
“I knew you’d say no, so that’s why I didn’t ask,” her aunt said. “And don’t worry, she checked her blood, and I gave her a snack, and she’s fine. The waves were magnificent,” Roo added. “I haven’t seen surf running that high since Floyd, in ninety-nine.”
“I should have known,” Evelyn muttered.
Roo looked around the hallway. “Have you been listening to the radio? Have there been any more updates from the Weather Service?”
“No, I haven’t been listening. I’ve been too busy getting this house ready to weather a storm,” Evelyn said. “Check it yourself if you want.”
“It’s in the kitchen,” Riley said. She turned stern eyes on her daughter. “Margaret Evelyn, you need to go right upstairs and get out of those wet clothes and take a hot shower.”
“I think I’ll go back to the carriage house and change into dry clothes, too,” Roo said. “What time are we eating? All this excitement has really given me an appetite.”
Riley looked at her watch. “Mama, it’s nearly six now. I think I’ll go see about starting dinner. I think we ought to eat early, in case the power goes off.”
“Good idea. I took the last of the shrimp out of the freezer to thaw, and I picked up a couple of quarts of Brunswick stew and some coleslaw at the Mercantile yesterday. And let’s use up the last of the salad stuff, too. Did you call Parrish and Ed and tell them to come over and help us eat up some of these groceries?”
“I did, but Ed’s plane was late getting into RDU today, and with the weather and traffic, he’s not going to make it down until tomorrow. Parrish said she was going to heat up some soup and hunker down right there. She promised she’d check in with us later tonight if the weather gets worse.”
* * *
The lights flickered off and then on again, just as she was draining the shrimp in the kitchen sink. Riley hurried into the living room and lit the candles she’d clustered around the mahogany table. The mellow old silver shone brightly, and she put place mats and heavy ironstone plates at each setting, then set the bowls of steaming shrimp and Brunswick stew on trivets in the middle of the table.
The front door flew open, and Billy and Scott walked in and slammed it shut. “Damn!” Billy called. “It’s getting ugly out there. I almost turned around and went back to the firehouse.”
“Except I threw out the rest of his vodka, so he knew he wouldn’t get a drink unless he came over here,” Scott said.
“That’s right,” Billy said. He walked to the sideboard, found the crystal decanter of vodka, and filled a double old-fashioned tumbler nearly to the brim. He took a swallow and grimaced. “Ugh. I think Mama must have cut this stuff with Sterno.”
“You notice he’s drinking it anyway,” Scott said to Riley.
Evelyn came in carrying water glasses and a large wooden salad bowl, followed by Roo, who had a platter of corn bread.
“You two quit fussing or you’ll ruin our appetites,” Evelyn said. “Riley, would you please ask your daughter to grace us with her presence?”
Riley stood at the bottom of the staircase, lifted her chin, and hollered, “Maggy! Dinner!”
* * *
Maggy stared down at the plate her grandmother had just set in front of her and turned pleading eyes toward her mother. “Mom? Would it be okay if I just had a sandwich or something? I’m not really into stuff that’s all mixed together like this.”
“Now, Maggy,” Evelyn started.
“Mama, this once it’s all right,” Riley said. “Go ahead and get your sandwich. Just make sure you’re getting all your exchanges.…”