the seat of the cab. The driver careened around corners, splashing up mud and water with every turn. He hadn’t blinked when she offered her credit card as payment for the hundred-mile trip home. He’d only nodded, reset his meter, and headed for the highway.
“Ma’am? Are you okay? You aren’t sick, are you?”
She closed her eyes for a second. “Oh, no.” She wasn’t sick, not in the way he meant, at least
“You let me know. I’ll pull over.”
Did she look that bad? That pale and defeated? Maybe he’d just picked up his share of drunken DeVeau Ball guests and knew what to expect. The cab smelled of sickly-sweet air freshener, and she wondered how many other riders had thrown up in the very spot where she sat. She tried to smile, but he only glanced at her in the rear view mirror and skidded through another turn. Before Emmy knew it they were on the highway, and a sign flashed by that read “Marion Bridge 50 Miles.”
Her phone buzzed with a text. You on the road? Raelynn asked.
Yes.
No power here. Heard they might close the bridge. Lots of accidents this end.
Emmy’s thumbs moved over the screen. She hoped her driver wasn’t checking current traffic reports. The last thing she needed was him turning around. She leaned forward and eyed the speedometer, glad she hadn’t gotten a cautious driver. He was moving along at a good clip. They probably had less than an hour to go. Maybe the accidents would be cleared away by the time they crossed the bridge.
She sat back and thought about texting Liza, but the effort of deciding what to say exhausted her. Everything exhausted her, in fact. She was out of options. Despite what she’d said to Blake, tomorrow she’d have to sit down and face the reality of selling her building. Maybe she’d ask Lillian at the nail salon or Crazy Jake if they knew of anyone looking to buy on the harbor. She had to find someone local. Over her dead body would she sell to Eastefire.
Her eyes closed and before she knew it, she was slipping into dreams.
Emmy and Piper crept to the top of the girls’ dorm with a backpack of wine coolers.
“You know we’ll get in trouble if we’re caught,” Emmy said.
“Who’s going to catch us?” Piper opened a strawberry wine cooler and passed it to Emmy.
“I don’t know. Security?”
“They’re half-asleep on the other side of campus. It’s not like they patrol after midnight. They’re just there if someone calls for an escort or a Delta brother gets alcohol poisoning and needs a ride to the infirmary.”
“Oh.” Emmy leaned against one of the now-defunct brick chimneys. “This view is amazing.” The sea stretched out in front of them, dark and smooth, like black glass.
“I know, right?” Piper opened her own wine cooler and sat beside Emmy. “The first thing I did when I moved in was come out here.”
“Really? By yourself?”
“Sure. Why not?”
Emmy shrugged. She didn’t usually do things like that, brave, daring things like climb onto rooftops, by herself.
“Speaking of Delta brothers, tell me about that guy I’ve seen you with the last couple weeks.”
“Blake Carter?”
Piper nodded. “Is it serious? Or are you just messing around?”
Below them, a group of students stumbled past the dorm. It was almost two, which meant parties around campus had started to break up.
“It’s too soon to tell,” Emmy said. “I like him, though.”
“Liking is good.” Piper stood and walked to the edge of the roof.
Emmy scrunched up her knees and planted her feet. “Don’t get too close.”
Piper bounced on her toes from one foot to the other. “Don’t worry. I was a gymnast until eighth grade. I have amazing balance. Look.” She lifted onto one foot in an arabesque, stretching out both arms. Against the clear night sky, she looked like a bird ready to take flight. “You should try it.”
“No way.”
“Come on. I won’t let you fall. I promise. I’ll hold on tight with both hands.”
Emmy got to her feet. “You’re crazy. But okay. As long as you promise...”
Thunder cracked, and Emmy’s eyes flew open. That hadn’t been the first or last time she and Piper had gone outside on the roof. They spent the rest of that semester perched high above campus. Sometimes they even dragged blankets with them and stretched out to watch the stars overhead. And they talked. About everything. Piper’s mom, who ignored her. Emmy’s dad, whom she’d never met. School. The future. Blake. So much about Blake. Emmy hadn’t ever been afraid to fall after that first night. Only after Piper died had Emmy developed her terror of heights.
That made sense, of course. You didn’t fear things until you knew how much they could hurt you.
She stopped thinking about Blake. She couldn’t afford to remember the look on his face as he’d stood there between his father and Bryan. Caught. Guilty. It had crushed her. She peered out the window and tried to get her bearings. They passed a few cars going in the opposite direction, but otherwise traffic was light. She rolled her head from side to side, trying to relieve the tension in her neck. Finally the sign for Marion Bridge appeared ahead of them. Emmy let out a sigh. So close. Almost home.
A line of taillights filled the only open toll lane, and the driver eased in behind them. Emmy looked at the meter, her stomach queasy. Almost three hundred dollars. The driver paid the toll and pulled onto the bridge. The spans were lit up from top to bottom, but as the cab gained speed and height, Emmy could feel them sway in the wind. Deep breaths. Don’t worry. It’s only three miles. But the wind continued to buffet the car, and rain slashed across the windshield until she couldn’t see a thing. The driver slowed to a crawl. “Bad storm tonight,” he said, his first words in almost an hour.
Emmy gritted her teeth as they neared the bridge’s apex. On a good day the view from the top was incredible. Tonight she could see nothing but darkness. Headlights of other cars fell in behind them, but as they descended toward Drake Isle, the wind slowed. So did the rain. By the time Emmy saw the ferry landing, dimly lit on generator lights, the storm had eased to nothing more than a fine mist.
She let out a breath, but her relief soon changed to apprehension. Flashing red and yellow lights blocked the road ahead of them. The driver braked, muttered something under his breath and checked his meter. They were less than a quarter-mile from the island.
The cab inched forward, following a utility truck from the power company. As Emmy’s eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see that most of Harbor Street was dark. They came to a complete stop a few feet from the flashing emergency lights. A man in a dark slicker walked up to their window, shaking his head. The cabbie rolled the window down.
“Bridge is closed from here to the island,” the man said. Emmy couldn’t see his face, but his familiar island drawl could’ve belonged to almost anyone. “Gotta turn around and head back to the mainland. We got a section that’s collapsed near shore and two cars we gotta clear before we can deal with that. No one’s gettin’ in or out before tomorrow. Sorry,” he added. “We meant to get a sign up on the mainland. Guess it’s not there yet.”
The cabbie put the transmission in park and turned around. “You want me to take you back to the mainland? Or you feel like walking the rest of the way?”
Walking? Emmy stared after the first responder, who’d already returned to the accident. She didn’t have as much as an umbrella, and her driver didn’t look like he was about to offer her one. She looked down at her shoes – Bev’s shoes, actually, on loan and not meant for walking much in the first place, let alone walking in the rain. Her heart sank.
“There’s a motel back on the other side of the bridge,” the driver added. He punched the meter to turn it off. “I can take you there if you want. No extra charge.”
But Emmy hadn’t come this far just to turn around. “No, I’ll walk. Thanks for driving me home.” With a sigh, she clutched her purse to her chest and stepped out into the rain.