The Weekenders (55 page)

They walked through the house, closing the windows she'd left open in the bathroom and Maggy's bedroom, and walked around the front- and backyard, picking up anything that might take flight and stashing it in a tool shed at the back of the house.

“Are we going to spend the night here tonight?” Maggy asked. “It doesn't smell nearly as bad now. And it looks kind of pretty inside, now that it's clean.”

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.…”

“And take my insulin,” Maggy said. “And after that, can I go upstairs and watch a movie on my iPad?”

“I guess so,” Riley said.

*   *   *

Riley took a deep breath. “Mama, there's something I want to talk to you about.”

Evelyn placed her fork on the side of her plate. “I hope this is not about that Nate Milas.”

“No. It's not about Nate. It's about me. I've made some pretty big changes in my life recently. And some of them directly affect you. And the rest of this family.”

“I can't wait to hear,” Evelyn said.

“First off, I quit my job at WDHM.”

“My goodness,” Evelyn said. “What brought that on?”

“A lot of things. The pay was crap. My boss was an idiot. And the final straw was that she wanted me to demonstrate a colon cleanse. On the air.”

Billy sniggered. “Talk about a shitty assignment.”

Evelyn turned to her son with a withering stare. “No more vodka, Billy.”

“So I walked out. And, well, I've been thinking about this for a while now. Ever since Wendell died, actually. I don't want another job in television. I want to run Belle Isle Enterprises.”

“You?” Evelyn stared. “Sweetheart, you don't know anything about running a business like ours.”

“Neither did Wendell, until Daddy gave him his job,” Riley said. “And Granddad hired Daddy after the two of you got married. But I've grown up in the business. On this island.”

“But, honey,” Evelyn said. “Wendell and W.R. had somebody to train them before they took over.”

“You mean,
they
were qualified because
they
were men,” Billy said. “Mama, for God's sake, quit being such a sexist. Riley is twice as smart as Wendell ever was. And even if she wasn't, there's no way she could screw things up as badly as he did.”

“I just don't know,” Evelyn sputtered. “This is just so out of the blue.…”

“I think Riley would do a wonderful job running the company,” Roo said. “You know I loved my little brother, but W.R. could be blind about some things. I don't think he ever thought women were good for much beyond having babies and running a house.”

“I'm not saying we shouldn't consider it,” Evelyn said, seeing that she was outgunned. “But think of the logistics. Wendell spent more than half his time on the island or traveling. How could you do that and live in Raleigh and take care of Maggy, as a single mother?”

“I've already thought of that. I withdrew Maggy from the Woodlawn School. She'll start seventh grade at Baldwin Middle School on Tuesday. And I've rented a little cottage for us in the village.”

“When did all this take place?” Evelyn asked indignantly. “I can't believe you'd take Maggy out of one of the top-ranked prep schools in the state and put her in some little country schoolhouse in Southpoint. And what about your new house in Raleigh? Weren't you supposed to move in there this week?”

“Things happened so fast, there really wasn't time to let you know,” Riley said. “I was miserable in my job and Maggy was miserable at Woodlawn. Her homeroom teacher didn't even know who she was. And then, when the folks who sold me the house decided not to move and backed out of the sale at the last minute, I decided it was a sign from the universe.”

“A good sign,” Roo said, beaming at her niece.

“Roo, please!” Evelyn said sharply.

The weather radio Roo had placed on the floor beside her chair gave out another unearthly blare, and the same disembodied voice filled the high-ceilinged dining room.

“Due to intensifying conditions associated with Hurricane Brody, at seven fifteen p.m. Eastern Standard Time on Friday, the National Weather Service has upgraded a hurricane watch to a hurricane warning for the area from Hilton Head, South Carolina, to Norfolk, Virginia. Residents of coastal and low-lying areas should begin immediate emergency storm preparations including evacuation to higher ground, away from areas susceptible to high winds and storm surge. Hurricane Brody is now a category-two storm and forecasters now predict a direct strike of potentially catastrophic forces to these areas. Stay tuned to this frequency for further updates.”

“Only a cat two?” Roo said, underwhelmed. “That's hardly anything. Now Hazel, back in fifty-four, was a cat four. That's what I call a storm.”

“Evacuation?” Evelyn said, looking around the table. “Is that really necessary? After all, we managed to ride out Fran.”

“And I never want to live through something like that again,” Riley snapped. She turned to her brother for help. “Billy, would you please tell her she's crazy to consider staying on the island for this storm?”

Billy took a gulp of his cocktail. “Mama, you're crazy. We need to go.”

As if on cue, Riley's cell phone dinged an alert of a text message, and her phone screen lit up while another anonymous voice issued another ominous threat:

“At seven forty-five p.m. the Baldwin County Emergency Management Agency received notice of a category-two hurricane expected to make landfall in this area by nine a.m. Saturday. The agency has now issued a mandatory evacuation order for low-lying areas including Southpoint, Beach Haven, Fiddler's Sound, and Belle Isle. Residents are instructed to take cover or evacuate immediately to higher ground.”

Scott gave his mother-in-law a pleading look. “Now, Evelyn, that sounds pretty serious. The county is saying evacuation is mandatory.”

“They just say that,” Roo said. “In case of lawsuits. But they can't make us leave. Right, Evvy?”

“That's it,” Riley said. “I am calling the ferry right now and getting us off before this storm blows us off.”

She picked up her phone and tapped the connect button to call the ferry office, but got disconnected almost immediately. “The number's busy,” she reported. “Probably because every sane person left on the island is doing the same thing I am.”

Oooowwwhoooooo.

“That's Banksy,” Riley said, standing up and heading for the stairway. “He must hear something outside.”

She stood at the door, and now they all heard the siren, and saw headlights and flashing red lights heading down the drive straight for the house. Riley opened the door and peered outside. The din from the driving rain obscured most of the message, but one phrase emanating from the vehicle's roof-mounted loudspeaker was audible: “MANDATORY EVACUATION ORDER.”