Chapter 13

The following night, high winds howled through the neighborhood. Listening to the rattling windows, Darcy tossed and turned. Finally, she drifted off into an unsettled sleep. She woke from a loud explosion. Sirens screamed in the distance.

Her phone rang. When she picked it up, she noticed Victor’s phone number. Why would he call at four-thirty in the morning? She answered, but no one responded.

Someone knocked on her bedroom door. “The sky’s on fire,” Sam said.

Fire? Stumbling out of bed, she cinched her robe around her waist and shoved her feet into slippers. She opened the door and followed Sam to the kitchen where Linda stood by the TV watching the newscaster report on the Tubbs fire sweeping over Fountaingrove.

“Sonoma County is waking up early to the worst fire this county has seen in a century,” the newscaster reported. “Around ten o’clock last night, high winds carried a spark from a wildfire in Napa to Santa Rosa. By one o’clock this morning, hundreds of homes had caught fire.”

Darcy held her breath. Shooting flames lapped up a subdivision of million-dollar homes in spite of firefighters spraying a constant stream of water. Panic raced through her chest. “Do we need to evacuate?”

Linda offered Darcy a cup of coffee. “Not yet. The Nun’s fire is still over the hill from us on the south side and the Tubbs fire is too far north. But if the fire crosses the ridge and enters Annadel State Park, then we’ll be asked to leave.”

Darcy drank the bitter coffee and set the empty mug on the counter. “I’m going outside.” As soon as she stepped onto the porch, she wrinkled her nose at the smoke singeing the cool autumn air. From the north, above the roofline of Sam and Linda’s house, the sky lit up with plumes of crimson flames. “The whole world looks like the apocalypse.” She covered her mouth and coughed. “The air stinks like a barbecue without meat.” Smoke stung her eyes and irritated her nose. Crossing her arms underneath her breasts, she listened to the pop and fizzle of electrical transformers exploding and sirens blasting. She grabbed her phone to call Joyce, but she had no dial tone. Darting into the house, she shut the door and ran into the kitchen. “Does the land line work?”

Sam handed her the phone.

She keyed in her daughter’s phone number and waited. Each long ring took several heartbeats to complete. “Hello?”

“Joyce, it’s Mom. We’re having a wildfire. The authorities haven’t asked us to evacuate yet, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. May I stay with you until the fires are contained?”

“Of course,” Joyce said. “My apartment’s tiny, but there’s room on the couch.”

“Thank you. I don’t have cell coverage for some reason, so you might not be able to contact me. I’ll leave as soon as possible.”

“Be safe,” Joyce said.

Darcy wondered if she had enough gas to drive fifty miles south to San Francisco. She handed Sam the phone.

“You’re overreacting,” Sam said. “They’ll have the fire contained by tonight.”

With her heartbeat racing, she stared at the TV screen. A wall of flames incinerated a forest of trees near a house. The scene panned to the local hospital. Doctors and nurses pushed patients in wheelchairs and boarded them onto buses to transport them out of the county. Finally, the cameras showed a mobile home park scorched to ashes. Firefighters hosed water on the blaze to prevent the flames from crossing the street to an ammunition store.

Did Victor call because of the fire? “I need the phone again.” Darcy opened her palm and wiggled her fingers.

Sam frowned, offering the phone.

Scrunching her forehead, she dialed his number and waited.

He picked up on the second ring.

“Victor, it’s Darcy.”

“Are you all right?”

She heard panic in his voice. “I’m fine.”

“Have you evacuated yet?”

“I’m going to San Francisco to stay with my daughter.” She clutched a fist to her chest. “What about you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “I’m in Windsor. The fire has to travel much farther north to affect me.”

“I’m leaving.” She ran her fingers through her tangled hair. “You can’t reach me. I don’t have any cell coverage.”

“That’s because the fire destroyed the cell towers in Fountaingrove. You’ll get coverage again once you leave the county.”

A shiver of panic raced through her. Fountaingrove burned. No more Paradise Ridge Winery. She must find a new wedding venue for Joyce. No time to worry. “I’ll call when I get to my daughter’s house. Have you heard from Betty?”

“She’s been evacuated. She’s staying at her husband’s brother’s house for now.”

What if Sam and Linda’s house burned? She gulped. Where would she live? She felt her heartbeat gallop. As she hung up the phone, Darcy nudged away the thought. She downed another cup of coffee and started packing. With trembling hands, she shoved the essentials of her life into a suitcase. “Won’t you leave?”

Sam and Linda shook their heads.

She hugged them goodbye. After tossing the luggage into the trunk, she jumped into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. The engine purred. She shifted into reverse and backed out of the driveway, barreling down the street. As she merged into southbound bumper-to-bumper freeway traffic, she slowed to a stop. Hurry, hurry, hurry, she thought. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, she glanced up into the rearview mirror at the blazing sky. Had she left too late?

****

With increased traffic, the one-hour drive to San Francisco extended into two-and-a-half hours. Darcy slid into a parking spot three blocks from Joyce’s apartment. She stood and arched her back, aching from the long drive. Cold, damp, foggy air prickled her skin. As cars sped past, honking at jay walkers and cyclists, the smells of garbage and exhaust burned in her lungs.

As soon as she left Sonoma County, cell coverage resumed. She called Joyce to let her know she had arrived safely.

“I’m at work,” Joyce said. “A private gated walkway is to the back of the building. I left the key under the doormat. I’ll see you tonight after work, okay?”

“Okay.” She trembled from the shock of the events leading up to her evacuation. From her trunk, she lifted her suitcase and wheeled it up the sidewalks to Joyce’s apartment, a pink-and-white Painted Lady Victorian with lace curtains in the windows. She stepped into the open kitchen, dining, and living room space overlooking Alamo Square Park. The apartment reminded her of the studio she rented outside Beverly Hills following her divorce.

After kicking off her shoes, she padded barefoot to the living room and turned on the big screen TV to watch the latest news on the fire. No areas of containment were announced. The newscaster stated the fires continued to spread.

In spite of her fear, she felt hunger tug at her stomach. She stalked into the kitchen and peered into the refrigerator. The crispers brimmed with fruits and vegetables. The door contained several bottles of water. After careful consideration, she grabbed a bottle of water and a bowl of grapes. Tucking her feet underneath her hips, she perched on the sofa. While munching, she stared at the wall of fire threatening to burn down the community she had called home these past three years. Shock and numbness spread through her body.

During the first commercial break, she called Victor. “I’m safe in San Francisco. How are things in Windsor?”

“Same,” Victor said. “My mom’s been evacuated, though. I invited her to stay with me, but she can’t climb stairs.”

“Where is she?”

“She took the first flight to Texas. Her house burned down, so she’ll be staying with my sister indefinitely.”

“Unbelievable.” Sweeping hair off her forehead, she whistled soft and low. “I’m so glad she’s safe.”

“Me, too,” he said. “But I’ll miss her. We used to have dinner every Sunday night.”

How sweet, she thought. She curled her lips into an involuntary smile. “I hope you will see her again soon.”

“So do I.” He sighed. “Now, I have one more reason to visit my sister.”

She stared at the flames fanning across the TV screen. “Have you heard from anyone else?”

“Just clients,” he said. “And you?”

“No one.” As she speculated about the safety of her clients and book club members, she felt a shiver run up her spine. “I should start making calls.”

“How is Joyce treating you?”

She snickered. “She’s not home yet, so we haven’t had the chance to strangle each other.”

“Be kind,” he warned. “Emotions run high during a crisis.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“If things get bad between you two, you can always stay with me…unless you can’t climb stairs.”

Smiling, she leaned back against the couch cushions. A warm glow filled her body. “I appreciate the offer.”

“I mean what I say.”

“I know you do.” Feeling her face flush, she bit her lower lip.

“Take care,” he said.

“I will.” She nodded. “Goodbye.”

For the next several hours, Darcy texted and called everyone she knew.

Betty responded first with a brief phone call. “Ten people are now at Chuck’s brother’s house,” she said. “Chuck’s ex-wife even showed up. I told him just one of us could stay, so he turned her away.”

“You didn’t?” She gasped. “I know you don’t like her much, but turning someone away in an emergency is kind of mean.”

“She has a boyfriend who is safe in Petaluma,” Betty said. “Why does she have to run to her ex-husband? Because Chucky still takes care of her, and his devotion makes me sick.”

Oh, boy, Darcy thought. Crises unleashed the worst in people.

Next, she called the members of her book club and her favorite clients. She wrote down their statuses in her wedding planner notebook:

Barry—safe in downtown Santa Rosa

Anita and Eric in Oakmont—no mandatory evacuation yet

Charlotte—safe in Rohnert Park

Lucas—mandatory evacuation from Northwest Santa Rosa near Coffey Park

Monica—no power in Rincon Valley, voluntary evacuation

Gary—safe in Petaluma

Sam and Linda—still at home, still safe

Afterward, exhausted from rising early and drained from the initial rush of panic, Darcy turned off the TV and curled up on the couch to take a nap. But her restless body buzzed with the threat of imminent danger, and her mind wandered toward worst-case scenarios. After an hour, she abandoned all hope for rest, turned on the TV, and watched the latest destruction from the fires. Anxiety knotted her chest.

When would Joyce come home?

By evening, the pink and gold lights of the setting sun dimmed into soupy grayness.

Joyce jangled her keys in the lock and entered the kitchen with her arms laden with grocery bags full of fresh vegetables. “Mom, are you here?”

Before enveloping her with a big hug and kiss, Darcy greeted her daughter by grabbing the bags and setting them on the quartz counter. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Of course.” Joyce kissed her mother’s cheek. “How long are you staying?”

“Until it’s safe to return home.” She pointed to the TV. “Coffey Park subdivision has burned. The fires are coming up from the east and the south. People in Sonoma, Glen Ellen, and Kenwood have evacuated. If the fires worsen, the residents of Oakmont must evacuate. My book club members, Anita and Eric, will need shelter. Victor’s mom already lost her home. This fire is crazy.” Grabbing Joyce’s hands, she led her to the sofa. “I have bad news. Fountaingrove has burned. Paradise Ridge Winery is gone.”

Eyes wide, Joyce gasped. “I can’t believe it. We placed a ten-thousand-dollar deposit.”

“I’m sure they’ll refund us if the records exist.”

Joyce stood. She paced back and forth across the hardwood floor. “The fires destroyed my wedding venue! Now, where will I find a location for the wedding of my dreams?” She spun and outstretched her arms. “How could this disaster happen?”

Shaking her head, she sighed. “No one knows how the fires started. Some speculate the high winds caused downed power lines that created sparks that flew from one county to the next.” She spread her arms. “All I know is Mother Nature is out of control.”

Joyce sank on the sofa, buried her head in her hands, and sobbed.

Sitting beside her, Darcy rubbed her daughter’s back. She felt her ribs through the dress suit. Didn’t she eat? Maybe Darcy could whip up something to put a little bit of meat on her bones. “How about I make some spaghetti? You used to like my homemade sauce.”

Joyce lifted her head and narrowed her eyes. “How can you think of food when I have no place to get married?”

“You’re overreacting. Victor’s mom has no home. Thousands of other homes have burned to the ground. Hundreds of people are missing. Pets have been separated from their owners. You and I are lucky to be here—alive and well. If we’re to have enough strength to overcome this catastrophe, we need to take care of our bodies, nourishing them with food, water, exercise, and sleep.”

Joyce shook her fist at the TV. “I don’t care about everyone else’s problems. My wedding venue is gone.”

Full of disappointment, Darcy opened her mouth. “Where is your compassion? I didn’t raise you to be so selfish.”

“You’re right. You didn’t raise me.” Joyce stood. “Dad and Tanya did.”

Darcy sank back against the sofa, feeling as if she had been slapped in the face and punched in the gut at the same time. “I did the best I could under the circumstances.”

Joyce scrunched her face and shook her fist. “You cared more about work than you cared about me.”

Tired of the same tirade, Darcy swung her legs off the couch and stood. “I worked to provide a roof over your head. I gave so much money I had no place to live. I had to visit you at restaurants or parks until I could afford to move into a two-bedroom condo.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “I am your mother. I deserve to be treated with respect, whether you like it or not.” Trembling, she grabbed her luggage and wheeled it toward the front door.

“Where are you going?” Joyce asked.

“Anywhere but here.” Darcy slammed the door, feeling like she no longer belonged in her daughter’s life. Perhaps, she never had.