Chapter 20

With eyes shut, Josie could better notice the breeze. The sand felt firm beneath her head and body, but it wasn’t unpleasant. If only she could stay there lying on her back, maybe none of her problems would be real.

The beach felt almost silent with only slight waves, the ever-moving waves, carrying sound to her. The birds had stopped screeching.

Her hearing tuned in. What had happened? Where were the children?

A horrible scene of an empty beach flashed through her mind.

She sat up, her eyes popping open.

Darkness looked like an all-encompassing wall. The sea had disappeared.

“Colin! Annie!” she called.

Only the lapping sea answered.

Josie scrambled to her feet and started to run but didn’t know which way to go.

Along a ledge of sea grass to the south, a head rose. Someone waved. “We’re up here,” Colin said.

Relief washed through Josie. She saw both children running. They chased a Labrador retriever that started barking while it played.

“We have to go now,” Josie told the little ones.

They left the dog pumping its head while it lumbered ahead of its owners. “Get this, Sheeba,” a twentyish man called. He tossed a stick to the water and the lab pounced into the surf.

Josie gathered her things and her charges came running, showing seashells they’d collected.

“Thanks for taking us,” Colin said while they strolled toward Josie’s car. He appeared more content than Josie had seen in a long time.

She gave his windblown hair a tousle. “No problem.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Annie said.

“We’ll do this again,” Josie told them. “I’ll take both of you soon.”

“Yeah!” the kids cried. They raced across the sand dune, void of anything now but sparse grass and the shoe prints that Josie noticed as she walked back to her car.

The children jabbered all the way home. Comparing shells and chunks of driftwood, they’d wiped off feet and flip-flops before getting in her car, but Josie saw some of the beach had been carried in with them.

Normally, the trait she despised but had picked up from her mother would have made her anxious, giving her the urge to clean up immediately. But this evening, with the lingering feel of salt spray on her face and arms and its scent still in her nostrils, she shrugged off the need. She could do it tomorrow, or maybe some time after that.

She patted Annie’s skinny knee beside her and listened to the conch shell Annie held to her ear. Then she brushed the sand her hand picked up from it onto the floor. Josie glanced beneath the girl’s dangling feet and saw only the black floor mat dusted with sand.

She glanced toward the backseat. “Colin, have you seen a scarf back there?”

“Nope. Boy, this is a pretty shell.” He leaned over the seat and showed it to Annie.

Had Sylvie’s scarf disappeared? Josie wondered, apprehension returning. Someone had mailed her what seemed to be a piece of it. Another section had been put in their mailbox. And the notes in the mailbox and on the back door. Was that all someone’s idea of playfulness? “A guy said to tell you he’d be coming,” Colin had told Josie the evening her first radio spots aired.

She had dismissed all of it.

Now she reconsidered. Had Maurice done all of those things?

Parking in the garage and letting the children get out, Josie made a new search in her car. This time she used a flashlight. She scooped her arm as far under the front seats as she could.

The scarf wasn’t there. Maurice had been near her garage. He could have taken it from her car. Would he have done that only to cut it into tiny squares?

What other plans did he have?

Uneasy, Josie walked in the house and spotted a message blinking on the answering machine. She pressed the button to hear the words.

“Call me, Josie,” Andrew said.

She sucked in a breath, hearing his voice. She could not make herself return his call. She wasn’t ready to deal with Andrew’s gambling problem today. She wondered if she ever would be.

Colin kept smiling as he went off for his shower. He looked weary afterward and went straight to bed.

Showering off every grain of sand, Josie then drifted to sleep imagining a bank vault emptied of money, but filled with scraps of blue silk.

Within minutes after she arrived at work in the morning, an entourage entered. A bridal party needed fittings. Eve helped with four bridesmaids, a bride, and an adorable flower girl. Randall Allen and Otis Babineaux took tux measurements on the men. The day proved so busy that Josie worked throughout the noon hour without noticing she hadn’t eaten until Mr. Allen asked, “Aren’t you taking time for lunch today?”

She saw the time. “I don’t need anything.”

“We’re ordering from the deli. We could get you something.”

She didn’t feel hungry but hadn’t had breakfast and would need to eat before evening. Her boss returned a little later and she stopped working only long enough to gobble down a turkey sandwich and canned iced tea.

Eve eventually came into Josie’s sewing area. “Still working hard? It’s time to go.”

Josie’s back protested from remaining in one position at the sewing machine. She hung up the bridesmaid dress she was working on and gratefully left for home.

Of all days, when she yearned to get back and lie across her bed a few minutes to let her back stretch, she forgot the light touch. She pressed the accelerator while cranking the key. An awful grinding sound issued. “I can do this without Andrew,” she told herself.

She waited two long minutes. When Josie again tried the key, the motor turned over.

As soon as she reached home, Sylvie said, “You have three messages on the answering machine.” She stood next to the machine as Josie played them.

“Please call me,” Andrew said.

Stilling her breaths, Josie listened to the next call.

Andrew: “I need to talk to you.”

And the third: “I’ve come around and tried to see you. Please call.”

Josie walked off, but not before her upturned eyes met her mother’s. Sylvie’s gaze fell to the phone, her face expressing questions.

Not ready to explain, Josie whisked out of the kitchen.

Five minutes of lying in bed made her rested. She changed clothes and joined her mother and Colin for stovetop grilled chicken and green beans. “Mm, wonderful,” she said. “You do a great job.” Josie almost ended her compliment with Mom, for at the moment they felt like such a family.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Sylvie looked at Colin. “Eat all of those beans. Your body needs them.”

Colin groaned but ultimately speared some, and the whole scene made Josie’s mood lighten. This was one of the few times in so long that she felt like a daughter. And her mother seemed a parent, especially to Josie’s brother.

“Now you get to bed early,” Sylvie told Colin after they ate. “And listen to your sister.”

Colin rolled big eyes toward Josie. “Her?”

“Yes, her,” Josie said, making muscles. “If not, look out for big sister.”

He sniggered with a flippant motion that sent his bangs to the side.

Sylvie went to her room and when she returned Colin was hiding behind a sofa. Josie crept toward him. Sylvie slowed to peck both of them on the cheeks. “Not too late, Josie, okay?”

Again she sounded like a real mom. Instead of being offended for being spoken to like a child, Josie smiled. “Yes, ma’am.” She tipped her head and abruptly frowned, realizing she’d done like Andrew.

Drawing herself straight, she winked at Colin. She watched Sylvie running her gaze over the den. She stepped to the sofa, snagged a toss pillow, and changed its angle. Josie and Colin exchanged grins.

“We were about to clean up the kitchen,” Josie said.

“We?” Colin grimaced.

“Yes, we. You don’t have homework and those muscles need a workout.” She squeezed his arm, took note of how bony it felt, and released it.

They followed Sylvie to the backdoor. “I wish I didn’t have to work the late shift this evening,” she said. “But this darn midnight special. Whoever thought of such a thing? People can just shop during the day.”

The wind lifted her skirt when she went out.

At the back door, Josie felt a wind gust stronger than the breeze blowing over the gulf. LauraLee’s warning from the bank returned. A hurricane was nearing. Windswept might be in the quadrant that could draw tornadoes, LauraLee had added, right before that whole scene with Andrew.

Josie hadn’t checked on storm coordinates.

“Maybe you should stay home tonight,” she told her mother, who scuttled toward the garage. Josie stepped down behind her. “We might be getting some bad weather.”

Sylvie slipped into her car and drew keys from her bag. “That storm is aiming west of here.”

Josie peered outside the garage. A dark hush had settled in with the early evening. She felt a breeze whipping up. “We might be getting some strong gusts.”

“And we might get a few more.” Sylvie turned her key and her motor purred.

Josie repeated what a bridesmaid she’d fitted mentioned. “Some people along the coast are boarding up.”

Violet eyelids fluttered. “And some people worry too much.” Sylvie tapped Josie’s hand resting on her car door and gave a small smile. “It’s okay, sweetie. It’s only a small storm, and it’s not coming here.”

Josie felt her mother’s fingers across hers massaging, like something a mom might do for a small child.

Josie felt like one.

Backing from the car, she nodded.

Sylvie shook her head. “Baby, you worry too much. You were even frightened about our neighbor.” She seemed to remember something and grabbed lipstick from her purse. With a quick flick, she brushed it across already coated lips. “And they found out he wasn’t even the right man.”

Josie’s head recoiled. “What?”

“Maurice admitted to doing those terrible things but the police proved he couldn’t have.” Sylvie’s lips pursed in a frown. “Some people will do anything to get attention.”

“Are you kidding?”

Her mother shook her head and smiled to check herself in the mirror. “Poor man. Maybe we should have him over for dinner sometime.” Sylvie turned a bright smile at Josie. “Now go and give your brother some attention.”

The sleek car withdrew to the street. Its headlights turned and left.

Josie walked the driveway. No wind stirred. An eerie stillness, after all the brisk wind sweeps, draped the evening.

Back inside the house, she had Colin help her clean the dishes, which she could easily do herself, but he had to learn some household tasks. He scraped food from plates without complaining, and while Josie did dishes he adjusted their chairs at the table. Josie saw he didn’t go near their father’s chair.

Colin took their place mats to the trash can and shook them off. With a damp sponge, he cleaned a light food stain. Such a little man, Josie decided. So responsible and willing. His grades and teacher comments revealed he was the same way at school.

“Colin,” Josie said.

“Yeah?”

“You’re doing a good job.”

He turned his head to the side like he was waiting for some sarcastic comment to implode the compliment. Receiving none, he grinned. “Thanks.”

Josie winked. Her brother’s chore was complete, but he remained in the kitchen. He replaced the condiments, set Sylvie’s floral centerpiece in place, and said, “I want to go outside.”

“It’s getting dark and you need to hook up with Fred.”

“I know, but you said it’s windy. I want to sit on the swing and feel the breeze. I won’t be out there long, Jo-seph.” He added the syllable to make her grin.

“Okay, but not long. You put off treatment yesterday.”

His dulled eyes said he knew what would happen if he tried to go another day without dialysis. Jogging off toward the bedrooms, he came through again carrying his football. He would sit on the swing and toss it up and catch it. Or maybe he would just hold it and wish he could play ball with his friends. Or go to the park with Andrew.

Josie scoured the range and buffed it with a towel to make a shine. She used the quick vac to catch stray crumbs from the floor. She gave the kitchen one final inspection so that Sylvie would not stay up the second half of the night to get the room to her taste.

Colin came in a few minutes later.

Josie was at her sewing table making final notes for her speech to the K.C.’s. “How is it out there?”

“Good. I’m gonna take a quick shower before my movie comes on.” He flicked on the TV and went off.

He was gone quite awhile. Before he returned, Josie stopped writing. She heard him coughing.

He came in still slightly damp. In short pajamas, his legs looked longer and thinner. His hair had been blown dry but sections darker than the rest hadn’t been hit. Retrieving his football, Colin rolled it up in a toss to himself. “You want to throw a few?” he asked, not paying attention to his program, which a bulletin interrupted.

A map showed the Gulf of Mexico.

Josie pressed the remote to raise the sound.

“After stalling, Hurricane Daniel has begun moving again. He’s heading for the shoreline just east of Mobile, Alabama. Many residents of coastal cities have evacuated because although Daniel has barely attained hurricane force, it’s already causing flooding in areas well east of Mobile. The storm may have already spawned one tornado that struck this trailer park.”

The ground held only sheets of flattened material. A car looked like someone had driven it up the side of a big oak tree.

Josie willed her mind to let the meteorologist’s words filter into her consciousness. “All coastal residents are urged to stay tuned,” he said. Then he and his map went away.

“Is it coming to us?” Colin’s words made Josie surprised to notice him standing near, for her mind had begun counting backwards. She had reached three.

Swallowing, she noted her brother’s stiff body. He was clenching the football against his belly.

“No,” she said, switching channels.

The next one gave a regional update. “…is the same person who admitted to five other crimes he could not possibly have committed.” A long shot showed Maurice Exely, his sleeves hanging over both hands.

Josie flicked off the set, hoping her little brother hadn’t recognized their neighbor.

Colin’s cheeks had flattened. His eyes were unmoving.

“Hey,” Josie said, “how about a little game before you have to snuggle with Fred?” She nudged Colin’s shoulder.

He appeared to leave a trance. “Yeah.”

She slipped the ball away from him, took a few steps, and tossed it back. He caught the ball, but his mind obviously remained elsewhere. Like her, Josie reckoned he could still see all that destruction. Grabbing the ball he finally threw back, she said, “You know what I really wonder?”

Fear haunted his eyes. “No.”

“I wonder…” She forced on a grin. “If Fred could kiss, would he kiss as well as the Kissing Bandit? If he did, you might go for him.”

As she expected, her brother threw himself against her. “You,” he said.

“Ah,” she cried in feigned anguish.

“I’ll get you for that.” Colin shoved and she let herself fall to the floor. Josie started laughing, so he pushed his fingers in her armpits and wiggled.

“No, stop it,” she said with a chuckle.

“No way.” Colin’s fingers reached new tickling spaces, causing Josie to really giggle.

Until the lights blinked.

Josie and her brother stopped moving.

He backed off and scooted to the floor beside her. “What happened?”

She stared at the lights overhead. Their full glow had returned. “Nothing. See?”

Colin’s gaze remained with hers on the bright lights. Josie heard him release breaths matching her own. Making herself smile, she rose with a hand out to help him get up.

A whoosh came from beneath the closed windows. Something seemed to shove against the outer wall. A crackle echoed.

Josie swallowed. She stared at the eight-year-old who stared back at her. They moved to the front door. She unlocked it and drew it open.

The door yanked back against her.

A white plastic bag few across the front lawn, resembling a tiny ghost scouring the night. Wind gusts swept the arms of their maple trees to the west. Lights on posts dimmed. Then brightened. On the rim of their yard, the bag dropped as the wind fell off.

Colin gripped Josie’s arm. “Is it here?”

Struggling to suppress her fear, Josie tried a normal tone of assurance. “You heard what the weather guy said.” She gave Colin a smile, aware that her eyes belied what her lips told. “And he knows better than I do. It’s going in around Mobile. We’re pretty far from there.” She and Colin backed into the den. She shoved the door, locked it, and tested it to make sure it wouldn’t move.

Her brother’s gaze drifted toward the television.

She turned it off. “We don’t need that. We can talk.” She retrieved the blood pressure monitor while her thoughts ran to the coastline, where Hurricane Daniel might have switched courses. Josie wanted to know everything that was going on. But Colin looked as terrified as she felt.

“Come on, buddy, it’s time to weigh in.” She stood beside the scale. “Time for your other best friend.”

Colin held back.

Josie forced her voice even. “We put off treatment an extra day to go to the beach, and you will be one sick young man if you don’t hook up soon.” Or maybe a dead one.

“We’ll be finishing late as it is,” she said, checking the time, “with me having to teach you how to play football and all.” She hoped he would return her smile.

He stood beside her. “Not yet, okay?”

His eyes had widened. While struggling with her own panicky feelings, she hadn’t realized how frightened he might be of such weather. But now the child didn’t move. His gaze was unblinking.

Wishing she hadn’t called attention to the bulletin, she clasped his hand. “Okay.”

His lips remained tight, his eyes fearful.

“Colin,” she said with a forced smile, “it’s okay. That was just wind.”

Her gaze shifted to where his did, toward the windows that once again started to whistle.

Together they sat on the sofa. “You smell pretty good,” Josie said, sniffing his hair, trying to pretend things were normal. “Did you use the herbal shampoo?”

He looked at her but didn’t seem to comprehend that she’d asked a question.

Turn on the TV, Josie told herself, and get rid of that noise at the window. The sound had to be frightening him the most, just as the whistles and crackles were making tension tighten her body.

She saw she had left the remote on her sewing table. Colin was pressing against her. Josie placed a protective arm around him.

His ribs pushed on her side, and he looked so small. Colin’s face turned up to hers, and she thought he tried for a smile, but his chin trembled. She felt his shivers.

“Those are only outer bands,” she said for his sake and her own. “The storm is a long way from here.” She pushed aside his bangs and grinned as they fell. Her inner tremble was getting calmer. Josie could imagine herself as a mother soothing her child.

One day she would.

If only things hadn’t changed with Andrew. He would be near, helping to allay their apprehension.

“Do you think Mom would have left if there would be a real problem?” she asked.

Colin’s eyes seemed to have sunken.

She squeezed him. “Do you?”

He swallowed. I know your fear she wanted to tell him. I’m feeling it myself.

The phone rang and she hopped up. “That’s probably Sylvie checking in.”

Josie grabbed the phone in the kitchen. “Hi,” she said, giving a smile to Colin, who’d followed.

A shrill voice sounded in Josie’s ear.

“Help!” Annie screamed. “Help. Please help me!”