Two from the Heart(3)

Lorelei and Sam, my best island friends, rushed over. “Are you okay? Was it bad? Tell us what happened,” they cried.

I collapsed into a booth.

“Sustenance on its way, stat,” Lorelei said. She was a nurse, a marvel of efficiency.

Phil, son of the original Barnacle Bill, brought me three powdered-sugar donuts and a chocolate cruller. I stuffed half of the latter into my mouth at once. If now wasn’t a time to stress-eat, I didn’t know what was.

“Power’s still off, so Mary made coffee on the grill out back,” Phil said, handing me a napkin.

I looked up at them gratefully as Mary poured me a cup.

“All you need’s a big lobster pot, bottled water, and about two pounds of beans,” she explained.

I took a single sip. Then I burst into tears.

Sam slid over to my side of the bench and put her arm around me. “The roof of my store got peeled back,” she said. “It looks like the lid of a dang tuna can. What happened to you, baby?”

I waved my hands in the air helplessly. I couldn’t speak.

“Phil, make this woman a Bloody Mary,” Lorelei called.

“Make that three,” Sam added.

“You know I don’t have a liquor license, Lo,” Phil said.

Lorelei lifted one carefully penciled eyebrow at him. “I also know you have vodka stashed underneath the counter, so why don’t you be a pal and bring it out.”

Phil grinned and pulled out the bottle. No one could say no to Lorelei—not even a former heavyweight boxer who still weighed upwards of 220 pounds.

“Is the Piping Plover going to be okay?” I managed to ask Sam.

“The roof’s fine on the west side,” she said. “I can run the shop out of half the space if I need to. But we’re at the end of tourist season anyway. How many LIFE’S A BEACH shirts am I going to sell?”

Lorelei said, “We got a little flooded, but everything’s fine. What happened to you, Anne?”

I waited until our Bloody Marys were delivered and I took a sip. Maybe it was the state of shock I was in, but I felt lightheaded almost immediately. “I basically have half of a house left,” I said.

“Which half?” Lorelei asked immediately.

“The darkroom’s gone.”

They both gasped. “Oh, Annie,” Sam said.

I tried to shrug. Tried to sound… undevastated. Was that even a word? I told them what had happened, and then I attempted a brave smile. “I never cooked much, so the kitchen can go.”

“That’s the glass half full,” Sam said.

“And… maybe I need to take a break from wedding and pet photography.”

“But you do more than that,” Lorelei protested. “You were going to have that show—”

I interrupted her. “Just because the gallerist said he liked my photos doesn’t mean he was going to give me a solo show. Anyway, brides and dogs paid the mortgage. Not my art photography.” I put my face in my hands.

“We’ll help you get back on your feet,” Lorelei said gently. “Everything’s going to be okay. Seriously. Someday this’ll be just another story you’ll tell.”

“Everybody has a storm story,” Sam added. “Do you have any idea how many times my dad told about the time he went fishing during Tropical Storm Charlie, got swept off his boat, and spent twenty-nine hours in the ocean, clinging to a cooler? When the Coast Guard finally rescued him, the first thing he did was open that cooler, crack a Budweiser, and ask those heroes if they had any chips.”

“He dined out on that story for years,” Lorelei said, rolling her eyes.

I laughed, despite myself. “I guess some people just know what they want,” I said. “I wish my problems felt so simple.”

“Well what do you truly need, hon, besides a new roof over your head and a bit of insurance money?” Lorelei asked.

I thought for a moment. I’d come here to make a fresh start after my divorce—and I had. But it took only one single night to wipe it all out. “I think I need to get away for a little while,” I said.

Lorelei frowned. “Anne,” she said, “you need to stay and deal.”

I shook my head. “I’ll put Bill in charge. He’s dealt with hurricane damage before.”

“You can’t just leave your house half wrecked,” Sam said.

But why not? I certainly couldn’t live in it. And the more they tried to persuade me that it was crucial I stick around, the more certain I was that I’d be leaving in the morning.

“My couch is your couch,” Sam was saying. “And Lorelei’s got a spare bedroom.”

“You guys really are the best,” I said.

“So you’ll stay?”

I smiled again, and this time I felt what might have been a tiny sliver of hope. “I’ve got other plans,” I said.





Chapter 4


ALL RIGHT, so calling them “plans” was something of a stretch. I’d decided to go visit my brother in Roanoke, but after that? I didn’t know. I figured I’d see where the winds took me. I’d just hope they wouldn’t be gale force, because I’d had enough of those.

By some miracle, my car—a formerly gorgeous vintage Mercedes I’d named Beatrice, now salt-streaked and rusted—still ran.