Beach House Reunion (Beach House #5)(85)

Linnea, however, was ecstatic. She and John joined a legion of local surfers and hit the ocean to ride the “hurricane waves.” Waves of this height and strength only came during storms. Among the surfers there was lots of bravado talk about riding out the storm. There was always the one who claimed he never left the island for a storm and never would leave. There were others who wanted to ride just one more of the good waves before they had to hurry home and shutter up the house. Regardless of their evacuation plans, everyone acknowledged that this monster storm that had been upgraded to a Category Five was not to be ignored.

John and Linnea strapped their surfboards on the roof of his truck and were headed back home when they met up with the bumper-to-bumper traffic on Palm Boulevard heading toward the Connector for points north. Since most of the tourists had already left at the first whiff of the storm’s approach, all the cars were likely local residents. John turned on the radio.

“I wonder if they called mandatory evacuation,” Linnea said, feeling the age-old chill run down her spine. “Lord, we’d better get back. Cara must be frantic.”

John was looking at the weather alert on his phone. “The current cone of travel has Irma heading up the coast. I heard from Ethan that the governor called for mandatory evacuation for barrier islands south of us. So far, Isle of Palms seems to be dodging the bullet, at least for a head-on collision. But the storm’s still coming so he’s racing back to the aquarium. They have a mammoth job ahead of them getting the place battened down.”

Linnea felt herself shrink inside, like a turtle seeking safety.

They waited at the STOP sign for what seemed forever, but the train of cars kept coming.

“Won’t they let us in?” Linnea asked, exasperated and anxious.

John lowered the window and waved his hand. At last a Good Samaritan slowed to a stop and let him make his left turn onto Palm Boulevard. John waved his arm in thanks, pulled out, and hit the gas.

“It’s a good thing I postponed my flight,” he said with a shake of his head at the sight of the long line of cars on Palm Boulevard. “There’s no way it would have gotten out. They’re going to shut down the airports.”

“Is your mother all packed up?”

“Yeah. I got all the shutters up. We’re tight and secure,” he said with satisfaction. “But, damn, there’re a lot of frigging windows in that house. As soon as we get back I’ll get started on yours.”

“No worries. David and Bo said they were coming to finish the beach house for Cara today. Other than that, we got all the emergency supplies—we have food and water, and Cara’s packed her photographs, important papers, and insurance records. Our suitcases are by the door, ready to go.”

“When do you leave?” he asked.

“As soon as Cara does. I’m going home first. Daddy and Cooper are closing up the house and then we’re all meeting up at the lodge. We’ll be safe upstate. The worst we’ll get there is a lot of rain and mud. And you?”

“Mom and Flo made reservations at some hotel in Columbia. I’m guessing we’ll head out tonight.”

She reached over to put her hand on his knee. He swung his head to look at her, his eyes meeting hers.

“Do you want to come with me?” he asked.

He’d asked her several times to join him, as had Cara. “No, thanks, I want to be with my family.”

They pulled into John’s driveway and parked the truck. There was an anxious silence. Both of them were aware that they were going soon to different places, that it was the end of the summer, that John would leave for California in a few days, and that they didn’t know what the future held.

Linnea looked out the window and spotted Cara carrying a box to her red Volvo.

“I’d better go,” she said. She didn’t move.

John reached across the seat and took her hand. She looked over to him. His red-tinged hair was still wet, slicked back, and a drop of water trailed down his temple. She felt the energy pulsing in his green eyes.

“Linnea,” he began tentatively. He looked at their joined hands. “Regardless of what happens, whether we get clobbered with a Cat Five or we amble back home after dodging another hurricane, we both know I have to leave for California. Time’s run out, Linnea.” He looked up, his piercing gaze pinning her. “Are you joining me?”

Linnea puffed up her cheeks and blew out a plume of air. “Oh, Lord, John, don’t ask me now.”

“I’m not trying to pressure you,” he said with a gentle tug on her hand. “But I’ll say this one more time. You should go after that job in San Francisco. At least take the interview. It’s the best offer you’ve had. Plus, you know you have a place to stay.”

“I know. . . .”

“What are you afraid of?”

“I told you,” she said with emphasis. “Daddy will go nuclear that I’m running off to what he thinks is Sodom and Gomorrah without being . . .” She stopped. She couldn’t say the m word. “You know.”

“Married.”

The word dropped like a bomb. Linnea felt blown to bits, but only shrugged. “Yes. That’s what he wants for me.” She glared at him. “I didn’t say it’s what I wanted.”

John’s expression changed, and Linnea could see he was struggling.