Chapter 26

As we began the last leg of our journey home, the traffic thinned out somewhat, although there were still more cars on the road than usual. I could imagine beachgoers and Charleston residents filling motel and hotel rooms all across the upstate. And frankly, if we’d not been so close to home, I would’ve voted for a stopover at any Motel 6 that had a light on for us.

Full dark by this time, the temperature outside was noticeably cooler as we started up the mountain toward Abbotsville. It was taking us more than twelve hours to retrace the route that had taken barely five to get us to the beach in the first place.

Latisha and Lloyd were asleep in the backseat, and I was dozing off and on only because I felt the need to stay awake to keep Sam company.

“You know,” I said to him, pitching my voice low for the sleepers’ sake, “I’ve hardly given a thought to Etta Mae and LuAnne this entire day. Or to Hazel Marie and her family. I guess I’ve just assumed, since they left before we did, that they didn’t get caught in the traffic.”

He didn’t respond, so I leaned closer and said, “Sam? You’re not asleep, are you?”

He laughed. “Not yet, but I’ll be glad to get home. As for the Pickenses and Etta Mae, I’ve kept an eye out for them—checking cars pulled to the side and those that had been abandoned. I expect they’re all home by now. Coleman and Binkie should be the last ones in. Or us. But as soon as we get there, let’s call around and make sure everybody made it.”

“Yes, and I must call Lillian, too, regardless of how late it is. She’s surely heard about the hurricane so she’ll be worried.”

He nodded, and after a little while, I said, “I wonder how Etta Mae and LuAnne got along. I don’t mean handling the traffic and the waiting and so on. I mean how the two of them managed together. If LuAnne talked the whole way, Etta Mae will be worn to the bone. She’s not a chatterbox as LuAnne is, so it could’ve been a miserable drive for her. Oh, and here’s another thing—I wonder where LuAnne wanted to be dropped off. I doubt she’d go to the condo, and she can’t get into our house, and Etta Mae’s single-wide isn’t big enough for a guest.”

“Maybe,” Sam said, “she’s at a local motel. That would be the logical place if she didn’t want to go home.”

“Well, who knows what she wants to do. She’s gone back and forth so many times, I can’t keep up with her.”

When we reached Abbotsville a little after eleven that night, Sam turned onto the long, empty Main Street—not a creature nor a car, except ours, was stirring its entire length.

“What a relief,” I said, “not to be hemmed in on all sides. Everybody’s in bed where they’re supposed to be.”

“We really roll up the sidewalks at sundown, don’t we?”

“Yes,” I agreed with some smugness, “and we’re certainly the better for it.”

Sam turned onto Polk Street and, in the second block, into our driveway. Thank the Lord.

“LuAnne’s car is still here,” I noted. “Wonder where she is?”

Sam didn’t respond, just carried Latisha, who was out like a light, into the house and up to the room that I kept for her and Lillian. I walked Lloyd in, guiding him into his room where he collapsed on the bed. Taking off his tennis shoes, I drew a sheet over him and left him to sleep in the clothes he was in.

By the time I’d checked on Latisha and gotten back downstairs, Sam had brought the suitcases and Latisha’s two bags of shells into the kitchen. He was looking in the refrigerator for something to eat and finding it almost bare.

“Look in the pantry, Sam,” I said. “There may be some crackers and peanut butter.”

“No, thanks,” he said, smiling as he surveyed the pantry shelves. “I’ve had my fill of peanut butter. But here’s a can of tomato soup. I’ll heat it up.”

“While you’re doing that, I’ll call around and be sure everybody’s safely home. Just hope I don’t wake anybody. It’s already past midnight.”

Hesitating for a moment, I decided to get the worst one over first. So, hoping that Hazel Marie would answer the phone and not her short-tempered husband, I punched in her number. And got a rough growl in response.

“Yeah?”

“Mr. Pickens? It’s Julia Murdoch, and I’m calling to let you know we’re home and Lloyd is spending the night with us. Good night. Go back to sleep.” I hung up before he could say another word.

Sam, stirring soup on the stove, laughed. “Bet I can guess who that was.”

“Yes, well, just giving him a taste of his own medicine.” I punched in Lillian’s number, worrying that I would wake her but not daring to wait till morning.

And it was a good thing I called because she was wide awake and praying for our safety. “We’re all all right, Lillian. It’s been a long, hard day, but Latisha is safe and sound and asleep in your room upstairs.”

“Law, Miss Julia, I been worriet to death ’bout that big ole storm they talkin’ about. I kept on tryin’ to call you an’ the phones wasn’t workin’, an’ all I could do was keep prayin’.”

“I know. We were trying to call out, too, but so was everybody else on the East Coast. But we’re home now, so go on to sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow. How’re you feeling, anyway? Do you need anything?”

“I’m doin’ fine, ’specially since y’all out from under that bad storm. I’m gonna sleep good tonight.”

“You do that, Lillian, and thank you for your prayers.”

I clicked off, then looked up Etta Mae’s number, again hoping that I wouldn’t wake her. She answered immediately.

“It’s Julia Murdoch, Etta Mae,” I said, “reporting in. We just got home, and I’m calling around to check on everybody. When did you get in?”

“We got to town a couple of hours ago, then stopped at Cracker Barrel and had some supper. Traffic was bad until we started up the mountain, but I heard that it was worse behind us.”

“It certainly was—we were in it. But what did you do with LuAnne?”

“Oh, she’s here. She’s sleeping on the sofa.”

“My goodness, Etta Mae. Didn’t she have anywhere else to go? I’m sorry that you still have her. Did she talk you to death?”

Etta Mae laughed. “She can talk a lot, can’t she? But it was all right. She’s having a hard time.”

“I know she is, but she has to make her own decisions and not burden everybody else. Oh, well, I’ll come get her in the morning and you can have some peace.”

“That’s all right. I have to go out to the grocery store, so I’ll drop her at your house. If that’s where she wants to go.”

Well, who knew where LuAnne would want to go, but it was unconscionable of her to stay any length of time with Etta Mae. I mean, there was barely room for one person in that single-wide, much less two, especially if one of the two was a restless, bustling woman like LuAnne Conover.

“Sam?” I said after hanging up with Etta Mae. “Do you think Binkie and Coleman are in yet? They were behind us all the way.”

“Why don’t you leave them a message to call us when they get in? I’ve poured you a bowl of soup, so come eat it.”

And that’s what I did right after leaving Binkie a message to call when they got home, no matter the time.

We were just crawling into bed forty-five minutes later when Binkie called.

“We stopped at a McDonald’s halfway up the mountain,” Binkie said. “Or we’d have been home earlier. Gracie was starving and so was I.”

We commiserated for a few minutes over our arduous journeys, and I told her about the perils of peanut butter on a hot, waterless day. She’d laughed, because they’d had a similar problem with the saltine crackers and cheese they’d had.

“I’ll tell you this,” she said, “those men selling bottled water were lifesavers. I don’t care what they charged, we would’ve paid it.”

Agreeing, I hung up and slid into bed beside Sam. “Sam?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for a wonderful vacation, but if it’s all the same to you, I’m glad it’s over.”