Chapter 8
Marjorie
The fire station’s emergency backup lights kick on, filling the room with an eerie green glow. The wind stops howling outside and everyone glances around fearfully at each other.
“Everyone okay?” the fire chief yells to the crowd. People throughout the room murmur that they’re okay.
“We’re going to open the doors now,” the fireman says, “but I’m going to ask everyone to stay put for now, okay? Let us survey the damage first to check for downed power lines and other hazards.” He gestures for Oz to join him and the other firemen. Oz starts to pull his hand away from mine, but I grip him tightly.
“It’s okay,” he whispers soothingly. I believe him, but I’m not willing to let him out of my sight. Not yet.
We walk together to the front of the firehouse. The garage doors are raised, and outside, it looks like a bomb went off. There are flipped cars, pulverized buildings, and twisted trees. The bakery down the street is nothing but a pile of rubble. The B&B where I spent the best night of my life with Oz hasn’t fared much better. The pizzeria was spared except for a broken windowpane.
“Marjorie,” my new friend, Cressida beckons for me, and I realize that as much as I want to cling to Oz and never let go, I’m needed elsewhere.
I let go of his hand. “I’m going to help Cressida,” I tell him.
He nods and heads over to meet with the firemen.
As I’m walking over to join Cressida, a petite blonde hurls herself at me. As she wraps her arms around me and sobs on my shoulder, I realize that it’s Holly, the baker.
“We would have died,” she sobs. “If you hadn’t told us to head over here when you did, we would have died. The tornado siren didn’t go off until it was already on us. We wouldn’t have had time to seek shelter.”
“I’m so sorry about your bakery,” I tell her.
She pulls away, dabbing tears from her eyes. “It’s just a building. We’ll rebuild or move somewhere else.” Her phone rings as she walks away. A moment later, she answers, “Theo! Thank God, you’re okay…” Her voice trails off as she disappears into the crowd of people.
Cressida and I get back to work on organizing the people and supplies. Judging by the look through the garage doors, some won’t have homes to return to. And the rest probably won’t have electricity for several days.
“Marjorie!” a man yells from behind me. It sounds a lot like Colby.
I spin on my heel, searching the crowd. Sure enough, there’s my brother, dashing toward me.
His eyes home in on the bandage on my head and the bits of twigs and leaves that I haven’t had time to pick out of my hair. “Are you okay? What are you doing here?”
“Colby! How are you here?”
Oz steps forward, chuckling. “Looks like he accurately predicted where the action would be. Guess you really are as good a forecaster as me, old friend.”
Colby turns to look at Oz. Several emotions flit across his face as he looks between me and Oz. “What have you been doing with my sister?” he roars.
Oz takes a step back. “Whoa! Calm down. It’s not like that!”
“What’s it like?” Colby raises a fist threateningly.
Oz holds his clipboard in defense, and I can tell things are spiraling out of control quickly. I’m about to step forward when Oz says, “Come on, man. You know Marjorie’s too classy to get involved with a dumb daredevil like me.”
His words slice through my soul like a knife. He’s put the blame on me, but his words are clear: he and I are not together. Never really were. Never will be.
I fight back tears as I step between my brother and the man I love. I smack Colby on the chest with my clipboard. “Grow up, Colby. There’s a lot of people that need help here. Grab a clipboard from Cressida Griffin and get to work.”
With a sheepish nod, he says, “Who’s Cressida Griffin?”
“I’m Cressida Griffin.” Cressida steps out of the crowd, stalking toward Colby. “I also happen to be Petra’s best friend, and I have some questions for you.” There’s no mistaking her threatening tone for friendliness. She obviously has a bone to pick with my brother.
I blink in confusion. Who in the hell is Petra?
“Yikes,” Oz mutters. “You’re a dead man.”
“I’m happy to answer any questions you have, Ms. Griffin,” Colby says.
A pretty woman stumbles out of the crowd. “Hold it,” she yells, stepping between Cressida and my brother. “Let’s save the cross-examination for another time, Cressida. Mercury Ridge needs us right now.”
As my brother looks at this woman, this Petra , there’s unmistakable love in his eyes. Somehow, in twenty-four hours, my brother has fallen head over heels in love.
Just as I have with Oz.
Unlike my situation, though, his love for Petra isn’t one-sided. She loves him back. It’s written all over her face.
And suddenly, I’m crying, unable to stop the tears from trickling down my cheeks. Oz doesn’t love me, and Colby doesn’t need me anymore. I’m alone.