Chapter 20
Roan
The moment the rain started pelting the grocery store window, Roan hurried to find Danger, locating him at the deli, where he was busy selecting cuts of meat. He and the butcher were both staring up the aisle toward the front of the store, shocked expressions on their faces.
“What the fuck?” Danger growled, yanking his phone from his pocket.
Roan stopped behind him, silent until Danger finished tapping away on his phone.
“We’re hunkering down here until it blows over,” Danger declared, his phone blipping a few seconds later.
He checked it before shoving it back in his pocket.
“I just let Pope know what was going on. He sent a thumbs-up emoji and said he was in the process of texting to tell us to do just that,” Danger said.
“Should we put back anything that might spoil?” Roan asked.
“Yeah, that would probably be a good idea,” Danger said before turning to address the butcher. “Are you good to hold that order until the rain lets up?”
“Absolutely. I’ll finish cutting and packaging it for you and have it waiting in the cooler,” the butcher replied. “Actually, hang on; let me grab a few brown paper sacks, and we can bag your perishables and put them with your meat.”
“Even better,” Danger replied, already beginning to dig in his cart to remove everything that needed to be refrigerated, so Roan did the same.
Because they’d been expecting a power outage, they had tried to get more staples anyway, so the butcher only had to fill a single sack for them, which he wrote Danger’s name on, before carrying it into the cooler.
“I’ve got a place back here where we can stash your carts,” the butcher offered when he returned.
“Let’s combine them, in case others could use the space too,” Danger suggested and began to transfer the items from his into Roan’s, since he had fewer things.
“If there’s space back there for all of this, could you please tuck it away from me?” A young woman said, with a toddler on her hip, binkie in the little girl’s mouth.
The child’s eyes widened when thunder boomed outside, and she ducked her head to bury her face against her mother’s neck, clinging tighter.
“Absolutely,” the butcher said, coming around from behind the counter to get it from her. “You’re Tessa, right? Kenny Martin’s daughter?”
“Yes, I am,” she replied.
“I thought so; you look just like your mama,” he replied as he wrote her name on a label and attached it to a cart that was full to the point of almost spilling over.
He wheeled it away for her, then returned for Roan’s cart, as the girl began to whimper and squirm when another boom rattled the building. Tessa adjusted her hold and rubbed the little one’s back, hoping to calm her.
Out of the corner of his eye, Roan spotted an endcap with a display of small stuffed animals with big, sparkly eyes.
One of them, a bright pink poodle with glitter streaks woven through its fur, seemed like exactly the thing a little girl might like, so he hurried over and snagged it, bringing it back to the butcher’s counter.
“Is it okay if I give this to her?” Roan asked the butcher. “I’ll pay for it if you’ll put the tag with our things.”
His fingers closed around the blue oval tag, poised to pull it off the moment he was given permission.
“No harm at all in that,” the butcher replied.
Roan yanked it free and made sure he got the other part of the plastic piece untangled from its fur before he handed it to Tessa, who beamed at him, before stroking it against her girl’s arm to get her attention.
Sure enough, she peeked out, curiosity pushing some of the fear from her eyes when she saw the plushie her mother held.
Squealing, she made grabby hands, hugging it and giggling the moment it was in her possession.
“Thank you,” Tessa said, letting out a heavy sigh.
“I don’t normally bring her to the grocery store since it can already be overwhelming, but with the storm rolling in, I thought I’d take the chance to run out and get diapers and other supplies in case my husband was stuck at work and couldn’t come home on time.
He’s one of the nurses at the assisted living facility, so if relief can’t make it in, he won’t be able to leave. ”
“You’re welcome,” Roan replied.
“I’ve got a few buddies who work there too,” Danger said. “One is a nurse, and the other works in the kitchen. They’ll be stuck too, but at least the folks living there will have everything they need to ride out the storm.”
“Think we’re pretty stuck ourselves,” the butcher admitted.
“I was supposed to get off in fifteen minutes, but I don’t see that happening now.
Let me find my manager. We had a bunch of those quad folding chairs come in too late for us to put out in time for the car show, so they’re sitting in the back.
I don’t think he’ll have a problem with us setting them up so folks will have a place to sit while they wait this mess out. ”
“Bless you,” Tessa said. “You’d never know it from looking at her, but she’s not exactly light.”
“Sit tight,” the butcher said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Need a hand?” Danger offered.
“Yeah, that would be great. We can set them up back here, away from the front of the building, in case something comes flying through the glass,” the butcher said.
They found the manager by the dairy case, loading labeled plastic bags full of groceries into empty spaces to keep perishables cool for people. As soon as the manager heard the butcher’s proposal, he gave him the go ahead to set up the chairs and called out to a nearby stockboy to help them.
In the back, the chairs were stacked nearly in a retainer beside a small, growing puddle of water.
When Roan looked around, he could see several others forming, which prompted the stock boy to drag over a few dingy totes that he hastily placed over the puddles.
From the look of them, they’d had plenty of use collecting water during previous storms.
They carried the chairs out a few at a time, two other stock boys joining in the effort to set them up in the back of the store, while the manager had organized his clerks to find space for everyone’s groceries, helping sort, bag, and put perishables in cooler cases before directing folks to the back.
When they were finished, they sunk down in chairs not far from where Tessa sat, chatting with an older woman.
They weren’t there long before they saw the manager gather his team in a huddle, the butcher included. Every now and again he’d gesture toward the front of the store while giving instructions. Roan soon understood why when he saw them headed into the back again, emerging with large plywood boards.
Danger stood, so Roan followed, as did several others, to assist in their efforts to board up the windows before something happened to let the storm in.
The boards looked like they’d been specifically cut to fit the tall, wide glass, as each fit in front of them perfectly, someone bringing wood blocks down the line to hammer into wooden frames that bore signs of having experienced this treatment before.
It blocked out the light, but now, even if the glass broke, the wind and rain would be kept out of the store.
They were just finishing up when the lights flickered, and they returned to the row of chairs to see that several small, battery-operated lanterns had been placed on the floor in preparation for the power going out.
Like with the chairs, they still had price tags on them, so Roan figured they’d probably taken them from the row of charcoal and camping supplies he’d walked down when he’d been grabbing briskets for the grill and more lighter fluid.
“Nothing left to do now but get comfortable,” Danger told him.
“At least we’re in the most stocked-up place in town,” Roan quipped.
“Amen to that,” an older man seated several chairs away replied as he pulled grapes off a bunch, one by one, and slowly offered them to his wife with encouragement to eat them so her blood sugar didn’t drop.
When the force and intensity of the rain revved up even harder than it was already pounding against the roof, much of the conversation around them was drowned out completely.
The girl in Tessa’s arms had fallen asleep clutching her poodle, leaving Roan wishing he had something of his own to cuddle, because things were starting to get real fucking scary.
The rolling booms of thunder rumbled like an army of Mack trucks racing down the highway, every lightning crack sharp and harsh.
Roan sucked in a breath, then Danger dragged his chair closer and draped his arm over Roan’s shoulders.
The effect was instantaneous, and he exhaled and scooted low enough in his seat that he could press his head against Danger’s shoulder.
When Danger’s fingers began to card through his hair, Roan relaxed further and even closed his eyes.
“That’s it,” Danger murmured, lips grazing Roan’s ear as he spoke. “Just relax and breathe. We’re gonna be just fine. As soon as it blows over, we’ll go home, and you can curl up with the pups.”
“I already miss them,” Roan admitted.
“So do I,” Danger admitted. “I didn’t have the chance to say it earlier, but you guys did good. They’d have been hard pressed to find a place to hole up during this mess.”
“I wonder if they knew what was coming,” Roan said. “The way they were howling, it was like they were baying at our window. When we went outside, they were standing on the big dune at the end of the path, looking right at us as we rushed out it to see what was going on.”
“Maybe,” Danger said. “Animal instincts have always been far keener than human ones. Pretty sure most of us lost our sense of self-preservation the moment we discovered our egos.”
Roan giggled at that, feeling far more at ease now that he was nestled against Danger.
“I do want you to promise me something though,” Danger said.
“What’s that?”