Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
The ride into town was both surreal and sobering.
The woods were eerily quiet as they drove through them—a stark contrast to the day before’s journey.
The only sounds were the engine and the crackle of the tires through the terrain.
The air was saturated with a heavy dampness that carried a thick scent of mud and seaweed.
When they finally got onto the roads, they were layered with sand and debris.
Patrick didn’t flinch as his truck bumped over splintered boards, shingles, and palm fronds scattered in haphazard piles.
On the main route, heading toward the beach house, Emily gasped.
Storefronts and cottages were visibly battered, some with broken windows, shutters hanging loose, and siding peeled back by the storm’s force.
They were all dark, clearly without electricity.
Patrick maneuvered slowly around the power lines that drooped low, some tangled in their leaning poles.
In his truck, they were as quiet as the calm after the storm. Both Blair and Sienna pulled out their phones to text their significant others an update, but once they’d finished, their phones sat silent in their laps.
Patrick drove past his restaurant, craning his neck to view the property.
The glass was boarded up, the coming-soon signs all removed, and the scaffolding hauled away.
“Looks okay from the outside,” he said, rolling slowly past. “No flooding or anything that I can see—that’s encouraging. ” He pulled up to the stoplight.
“Hopefully, it will all be okay,” Emily said.
“Our grand opening is in a little less than a year. This storm wasn’t on the schedule. I’m going right over to check as soon as I drop you off.”
“Let me know if you get in there and need any help. If there’s anything I can take off your plate, it would be the least I could do after all you’ve done for us.”
They turned onto the road with the beach house.
Piles of ruined furniture, mattresses, and soggy belongings were already pushed to the curbs, waiting for cleanup crews; other items—clearly not there on purpose—had been shoved sideways and deposited in unusual places by the storm surge, such as a boat resting clumsily in the middle of a side street.
Emily turned away, the reality of what they’d made it through hitting her. They’d been tucked away, sheltered from this. She looked over at Patrick with a newfound respect and adoration for saving them.
The whole town was caught between ruin and resilience; when only a day or two ago it had been buzzing with life, it had now been muted with destruction.
But within that, it was alive with the first signs of recovery, as people dotted the streets, talking with one another, pointing, lifting debris.
It was as if the whole community were holding its breath, waiting for regular life to return.
When they arrived at the mansion, the gates were still standing strong, although palm branches were wedged between their iron rods. Patrick entered the code and, miraculously, the gates opened.
“Does that mean the house has power?” Emily asked.
“The owner told me last night it has a pretty substantial generator,” Sienna replied, “so we should have power no matter what. And the grounds crew were able to secure everything pretty well.”
Patrick pulled to a stop in front of the house, and they all climbed out.
The beach itself was scarred from the storm, the dunes moved around, a boardwalk down the coast snapped in two as if it were a twig.
Seagulls circled low, picking through the wreckage.
But the palms on the property were all standing, surprisingly, and the house looked unscathed.
Patrick pulled their suitcases from the back of the truck and began taking them up the stairs to the front door.
Sienna let them in.
The hallways were dark from the electric shutters that had protected the glass from the storm.
A small line of emergency lights running along the edges of the entryway illuminated the floors.
Sienna clicked on the wall switch, the chandelier above them sending beams shimmering across the marble floor.
Patrick set their suitcases inside the door, then walked past them and into the other room.
In a few minutes, there was a snap and then a hum as the metal shutters retreated to their cases above each window.
Sunlight poured through the house, the bright-blue skies a stark contrast to the wreckage in town.
“Everything looks fine here,” Blair said, dragging her suitcase to the elevator. “How lucky, compared to the rest of the area.”
Sienna walked over to the French doors leading to the pool. “The outdoor patio needs a good sweep, but the pool’s still covered,” she said, pulling out her phone. “I’ll do a final check of the property and call the owner.” She opened the door and stepped outside.
“It must take forever to clean everything up,” Blair said.
“Yeah. It’s always a tough climb back to normal, but we’ve experienced worse.
” Patrick strode in. “The owner usually has things put back together pretty quickly, and if it’s just clearing the patio, consider yourselves fortunate.
The storm turning saved us. One move in the other direction and you’d be digging the swimming pool out from under a few tons of sand. ”
A lull fell between them.
“Will we be okay here on our own with everything around us in shambles?” Having never been through a storm of that magnitude, Emily wasn’t sure what to do next.
Patrick pulled out his cell phone. “Emily, what’s your number?”
She rattled it off, and he typed it in. Her phone pinged in her pocket.
“Text me if you need anything.” He fell silent for a moment with thoughts he didn’t divulge. “If I don’t hear from you, I’ll be back later with lunch and groceries.”
Though he said the words, it didn’t look as if he wanted to say them. He was wrestling with something.
Emily fluttered her hands in the air. “Oh, you don’t have to.”
“What will you eat if I don’t?” he asked.
“We can figure it out. There are leftovers, right?”
“Probably not enough for as long as you need. Nothing will be open for a while,” he countered.
“Then how will you get us food?” she asked.
“This isn’t my first rodeo. I’m prepared. And I’m a chef, remember? I’ve got an entire freezer full of food in my garage.”
“I’m sure you’ve got a lot of things to do. You should really help your family.” The last thing she wanted to be was a burden.
“I can make something quick,” he said. “I’ll be cooking for Julia and Winston anyway. And I have tons of supplies at home. I can bring you basic necessities.”
“Okay,” she relented. “Thank you.”
“I’ll be back around noon.” He slipped his phone into his back pocket. “I’ll let myself out.”
After he left, Blair returned to her suitcase by the elevator. “I’m going up to unpack. Again.” She flashed a small smile at Emily.
“Sounds good.”
Emily flopped onto the sofa and exhaled, the last twenty-four hours a blur. She rubbed her aching temples and leaned back against the cushion. Just then, her phone pinged. She fished it out of her pocket and opened the screen. Her stomach dropped.
Another text from Will to call him.
He had no empathy whatsoever. Everything was about him. How had she not seen this before? She clicked off her phone and closed her eyes.
“Since it was bolted down, the main furniture managed to make it through the storm,” Sienna said as she came inside.
She plopped down on the sofa next to Emily.
“The grounds crew has extra cushions in storage. They also have dry tables and loungers. They’ll be out in the next day or so.
And the cleaning crew was scheduled to come at the end of the week, but with the storm, they didn’t, so I told the owner to maybe just wait until we leave. ”
“Must be nice to have so much money you can stockpile deck furniture,” Emily said.
“I know, right?”
“I’m not sure what furniture I’ll come home to in Nashville, but that’s due to a different storm.” Emily blew a loud breath through her lips. “Will texted again.”
Sienna offered a soft laugh with no warmth at all. “Do not text him back.”
“Part of me wants to just get it over with, but the other part of me wants to make him wait because that’s all I have to hold over him for what he’s done.”
“I say that you’re in the right to do whatever you feel like doing, and he has to deal with it.” She stood up and reached for Emily’s hands. “Let’s get our stuff back to our rooms and resume our vacation as best we can.”
“That sounds like the perfect plan.”
Later that afternoon, while the grounds crew hauled debris off the beach, the three women huddled together on the sofa, watching the aftermath of the storm on TV.
“Luckily people can still get in and out of town for the most part,” Sienna said. “But I’m not sure Tyson and Rocko will want to come now.”
“Maybe the storm is a message that we should call it a week and head home,” Blair suggested.
Emily understood the sentiment, but she wasn’t ready to get back to regular life yet. She clicked off the TV. “We have to stay. I haven’t planned my day for the three of us yet.”
Sienna and Blair gawked at her.
“I think we can give you a pass, given the circumstances,” Sienna said.
“I’m creative; I can manage. We should do something here in the house together. And I’m going to plan it.”
“You do know we just endured a major storm,” Blair said. “Like Sienna said, I think you’re off the hook for that.”
“I know,” Emily said, standing up. “But I’d hate for us to leave on this note. It’s too late to drive home today, and we probably couldn’t get down our road yet anyway in Sienna’s car. You saw how Patrick’s truck had to drive over debris.”
“What do you have in mind?” Blair asked.
Emily tapped her chin. “Hm. Well, the tub in my bathroom is the size of a hot tub. We could get our swimsuits on and take a bubble bath. Light some candles… Have our own little spa day?”
Blair scooted to the edge of the sofa. “That’s a great idea. I brought my cucumber-green-tea-face-mask cream. We could hydrate while we soak.”
“I’ll make drinks,” Sienna added. “We had some club soda and a lime in the fridge after our last dinner. Do we have pineapple juice?”
“I think I saw some. Didn’t Patrick use it to make the salad dressing the other night?”
Sienna stood up. “If not, I’ll find something. Go draw the water.”
The next thing Emily knew, she’d texted Patrick to hold off until dinner, and was in her bikini, with a green face mask tightening on her skin as it dried, soaking in a bubble bath with Sienna and Blair.
“Now, this is the life,” Sienna said, taking two sliced cucumbers from the silver tray next to them and placing them on her eyes. “Great idea, Em.”
A pair of lavender candles flickered on either side of the tub, and the crisp white tile shimmered under the glow of the chandelier.
“Sitting in this beautiful place, it’s hard to believe there’s such a mess outside,” Emily said, running her hands in and out of the bubbles.
“I got some cool photos of it before we came in,” Blair said. “I’ve been thinking I might post something, but I’d need your okay.”
“What are you going to post?” Emily asked.
“I’ve been thinking about how our lives are like that storm, and how at some point it all ended and the sun came out.”
“That’s a great point,” Emily said. “I hope we see the sun in our lives soon.”
Blair twisted her hair into a clip. “Well, after talking with Julia, I decided that I should push myself to see it. I’ll never find the sun if I stay in the storm.”
Those words hit Emily right in the heart, giving her hope.
“I thought I might make a slideshow of some of our photos and use Sienna’s idea of The Broken Hearts Beach Club. I’d tell my story and how great my friends have been in getting me through it.”
Sienna took the cucumber slices from her eyes. “I love that idea.”
Emily agreed.
“Maybe you all can help me with it tonight,” Blair said.
Emily glanced at Sienna, smiling. “We’d be happy to.”
Maybe, Emily thought, she could take a page out of Blair’s book. Could she somehow find sunshine in her storm too?