The Rest of the Story(110)

“What?” I said. “I want to go.”

“No.” He looked at Tracy. “Gather up your phone and charger, your purse, anything you might need in the next few hours. Mom and Emma, you too.”

“But—”

“Now,” he said, sounding so firm that I jumped. Tracy went back into the bedroom, moving quickly, while Nana got to her feet as well. I just stood there, though, as he put the phone back to his ear. “Trinity. Breathe. I’m coming over. Just give me a few minutes, okay?”

I couldn’t hear her response, because at that moment another wind gust hit. Then the power went out.

“Go,” my dad said to me, and I ran into my room, grabbing my purse, a charger, and my shoes. By the time I got back to the living room, Nana and Tracy were at the door, ready, my dad scrambling for his own things. When we went out into the hallway, it was dark except for the emergency lights, blinking.

“Elevator’s out,” my dad reported, after trying the button. He turned to Nana. “Mom, can you handle the stairs?”

“Certainly,” Nana replied, but I took her arm anyway. “Lead the way.”

We went into the stairwell, which was also illuminated by blinking lights, and started down, my dad and Tracy in front, Nana and me following. We’d gone down two flights—slowly—when my phone rang again. Trinity.

“A tree just fell on the porch!” she screamed. “It took out one of the windows and now the rain is pouring in!”

“Okay, okay,” I said, reporting this to my dad. “Are you in the middle room? Where’s Gordon?”

“I can’t find her!” she said. “I’ve been yelling, but you know how she gets when you scream at her, she just vanishes. My mom’s at work freaking out, but she can’t leave. God, why is this happening?”

A door on the landing we were passing opened suddenly, a Tides employee with a silver room service tray stepping through. People were ordering food right now?

“Good evening,” he said, flashing us a toothy smile. “On your way to dinner?”

“The power’s out,” my dad told him. “What are you all doing about it?”

“The generator is just about to come on,” the guy replied cheerfully. “But even if it didn’t, we’d be totally safe. The Tides is the most storm-ready structure—”

“Right, right,” my dad said, pushing past him. To me he said, “What’s happening with Trinity?”

“Tree hit the house,” I told him. “And now she can’t find Gordon.”

He sighed. “Jesus. Okay. Let’s get a move on. Mom, you all right?”

“Fine,” Nana replied, but she did grip my hand a little harder as we began down the next flight. I squeezed back.

Finally we reached the lobby, where Tides employees were scurrying around, moving plants away from windows and herding guests into a nearby ballroom. “It’s a hurricane party!” one girl in a golf shirt told us, waving at the open door. “We have drinks and food and activities for the whole family. Join us, won’t you?”

My dad looked in the ballroom, where a total of about eight people, mostly kids, were grouped around one table. The rest were empty. “You need to get everyone down here. This storm is no joke.”

“Oh, sir, this is just a precaution,” she said as a wall of rain hit the windows, the sound drowning everything out for a moment. “You’d be perfectly safe in your room, as the Tides is—”

My dad hurried past her. “Emma, you and your grandmother get settled. Tracy and I will run over to Mimi’s just to check on Trinity and Gordon.”

“But—”

“Emma. Do not question me right now.”

“Honey.” Tracy put her hand on his arm. “It’s Emma’s family. Her cousin. You can understand why she might want to—”

“This is an emergency,” he said.

“Which is why I think it would be better if I stayed with your mother,” Tracy replied, more firmly now. “You take Emma and go. Safely. Okay?”

At the desk behind us, all the phones were ringing at once as rain lashed the windows. Someone came in the automatic doors. No one yelled, “Welcome to the Tides!”

“Fine,” he said. Then he gave her a kiss. “We’ll call once we’re on our way. Stay here, yes?”

“Yes,” she said, walking to a nearby table and holding out a chair so Nana could sit down. My phone, in my pocket, buzzed again. Trinity.

“We’re coming,” I said as I answered. “Hang tight.”

“I can’t find her!” she said. Her voice was high, scared. “I’ve looked everywhere!”

“Okay, okay,” I said, glancing at my dad, who had overheard this. “Just . . . we’ll be there soon.”

It was, after all, only three miles. But when we went to the valet stand for the car, no one was there. The rain was coming down sideways.

“Well,” my dad said, glancing around for a moment. Then he opened the door to the valet stand, which held all the keys, scanning them until he found his own. “I guess we’ll go look for it ourselves.”

I followed him down a path to the parking garage. Inside, we looked up at the two stories of cars, some of them double-parked. “Any idea where to start?” I asked.