IT WAS A fast-moving storm and by the time the sun rose it had moved out, leaving the lawn littered with branches and leaves, as though the world were broken.
The causeway was flooded. Orient was cut off.
She drove to the house. A substantial limb lay on the front lawn, blocking the driveway. She pushed her way through the hedge. The storm had left an oppressive damp heat behind. There was cleanup to do, but the house had stood through the storm, just as it had stood through hurricanes and nor’easters for two centuries. Love for it welled up inside her, tears stinging her eyes. At that moment she loved it more than a human. Way to go, house.
She walked around to check on the patio. Lucas stood at the edge, his back to her, one hand gesticulating as he yelled into the phone. He was barefoot, dressed in shorts and a yellow button-down, shirttail flapping in the still-brisk breeze.
“I don’t care, dude. I’m good for it, I promise you. I’m not going anywhere. I’m trapped! I’m lucky to have cell service out here. I can get it in exactly one fucking spot, and let me tell you, the view is getting boring.”
Lucas turned and saw her, and shrugged, making a comical face. He said “Later” into the phone and put it in his shirt pocket.
She noticed a cut near his eye, which had a bruise darkening into purple. “You okay?”
He winced and touched his face. “I drank a bottle of wine and passed out. But first I walked into a wall. You wouldn’t have a power saw on you, would you?”
“The causeway has been breached. There’s nowhere to go, anyway.”
“Terrific. This place is motherfucking hell. Aren’t you sick of being trapped yet?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
It was like being in an unfamiliar house, in the darkness, and suddenly coming upon another person, and feeling your heart beat fast with alarm. But it was only you, the glint of you in a dark mirror.
She held up her keys and shook them. “Shall we take a look inside those boxes again?” she asked, and Lucas smiled.