Jolene
“Do y’all have a weather radio?”
He turned to me, confused.
“Probably. Why?”
I sighed. “I just don’t want to cut my damn phone back on to stay updated on the weather, but we probably should stay updated on what’s going on,” I explained.
“We probably have one in a closet somewhere, but even if we don’t, we can call your parents and my dad from the house phone to let them know we’re okay and then just ride out the storm. We are prepared, I think.”
You think?
“Do house phones work if there’s no power?”
He bit his lip. “Ya know, I’m not sure. Either way, we will update the people who deserve updates and fuck the rest. I’m goin’ to make sure there’s plenty of firewood when we get back. We can either cook something on the grill for supper tonight or eat some of the Chef Boyardee crap you picked out at Paul’s.”
I nodded and turned to stare out the window. I have always loved riding to the mountain house but even the view couldn’t lift my spirits today.
Dakota reached over the console and patted my thigh. “I’ve got you, Lena.”
I squeezed his hand appreciatively. As I went to pull away, he held on, encircling my fingers with his own as if they were meant to be mixed up together.
We drove back to the cabin in silence, our hands meshed and resting on my thigh. Every now and then, he would rub the top of my knuckles with his thumb.
He pulled up to the front porch. “Go inside and start a fire in the living room, Boy Scout. I’ll bring our survival shit inside.”
Laughing, I climbed out of his truck.
The air inside the cabin was sharp and cold. Kneeling at the fireplace, I rearranged the logs to make sure the oxygen would be able to get through them. As I admired my handy work, Dak dropped two armloads of groceries on the kitchen countertop.
“Dispatch, be advised, there’s no flames showing,” he teased.
Dispatch, be advised I’m about to smack your lieutenant.
“I’m tryin’, bitch! I was rearranging everything so the oxygen could feed the logs!”
He looked up from unloading the grocery bags, clearly impressed by what I had said.
I was with y’all all through the fire academy and I’ve spent the last twelve years listening to y’all talk about it.
I struck a match across the brick, tossed it in the enormous opening, and watched the fire roar to life.
“Good girl.”
My pulse quickened.
Why have you said that about fifteen times in the last twelve hours?
“I hope you’re not seriously impressed that I can build a fire” I giggled.
“I’m impressed that you have the initiative,” he explained as he put the groceries away.
Is that a compliment?
“I’ll get all that put up. You go make sure we have wood!”
“Yes, ma’am,” he responded, abandoning a pack of steaks near the stove.
Do I ever put the cold stuff in the fridge or just sit it out on the damn porch? Fuckin’ power outage.
Gathering all the perishables, I hauled them out to the back deck. From somewhere in the yard, I could hear Dakota’s voice.
Who the fuck is he talking to? Sir, this is the wilderness.
I began pulling things out of the brown paper sacks, sitting them out neatly on the old picnic table. Off in the distance, I heard Dakota laugh.
What the fuck?
I opened a carton of eggs so the cold air could get to them.
One thing all southerners will tell you is that we prefer a winter power outage to one in the summertime. If the power goes out this time of year, we just stick our groceries out on a table in the yard, fully confident that that outdoor temperatures will keep things from spoiling.
As I finished unloading all the things, Dak’s laugh echoed through the trees.
Someone is gettin’ real close to needin’ a grippy sock vacation.
Dakota
“Lena?”
No answer.
“Lena Loo!”
Still nothing.
“! Where you at?” My voice ricocheted off the cabin walls.
Where the hell did she go?
I took the stairs two at a time, silently thanking the Lord for keeping me from breaking my neck.
This house is so damn dark.
I found her upstairs, sound asleep across her bed. She was laying on her stomach with her feet dangling off, her long hair partially covering her face. As quietly as I could, I pulled my Great Grandmama’s quilt off the rocker, draping it across her gently.
Wanting to make sure she was as comfortable as possible, I grabbed a few pieces of wood from the rack, setting them up neatly inside the fireplace.
Where did I put the matches?
I spied them sitting up on the dresser.
I better strike it on the brick, so she doesn’t come up from a sound sleep to tell me I’m doing it wrong.
The idea made me smile.
Her way worked like a charm, the jagged brick igniting the match flame at once.
I built her a healthy fire, guaranteed to keep her and the room warm.
I’ll keep checking on it to make sure it doesn’t go out.
Back downstairs, I set out to find a weather radio, some flashlights and some candles.
I didn’t take me long to find the radio but that’s where my luck ran out.
How are there no flashlights or candles of any kind mixed in with hundreds of years’ worth of shit?
Frustrated, I poured myself a glass of Jack Daniels.
We have plenty of wood, a fuck ton of food, and a perfect view of the mountains. We’ll be okay.
“I cannot believe this is my fuckin’ life,” I muttered softly to myself. “The insane part is that it’s all real.”
I took another sip of my whiskey.
I might better head to the liquor store before this shit starts.
I put the glass down. Two decent swallows were nowhere near the level it would take to impair my driving, but I was never the type to take the risk.
As I waited for those sips to leave my system, I busied myself with bringing more wood up on the back deck.