Chapter Ten
Tug got up the next morning and drank his coffee on the deck. Closing the diner today had been the smart thing to do, but it left him with a little too much free time on his hands.
He wished he hadn’t given in and promised Paul he’d shelter at Paws with him. He’d have been so much more comfortable at home. If he hadn’t already taken The Wife to Paws last night, he’d have called Paul right now and said, “Thanks, but no thanks.”
Staying at the diner might’ve been an even better option since Maeve wasn’t around to keep him company, and he could’ve prepped food or done something productive until the storm passed.
But a promise was a promise. As he tossed a few things in a duffel bag to get ready to go over to Paws Town Square, the doorbell rang.
Maybe it was the county checking in on folks who hadn’t evacuated yet. Sometimes they did that around here, especially if the evacuation had been upgraded from recommended to mandatory. Although he hadn’t heard that to be the case.
He opened the door to Paul’s smiling face.
“You weren’t going to blow me off, were you?” Paul stepped inside, then nodded when he noted the duffel bag.
“Thought about it,” Tug said. “But no, I was getting ready to come over.”
“Cool. I’ll save you the trip. I had to fuel up all the vehicles. Just topped off my truck, so I thought I’d shoot down here and get you.”
“You mean, make sure I showed up?”
“You’re not mincing words, are you?” Paul said with an impish grin. “Got anything you want me to carry down?”
“Just a couple of things I thought might come in handy.” Tug pointed to a crate of things he’d gathered.
“Cool.” Paul picked it up. “Meet you downstairs.”
On the ride over to Paws, Paul told Tug he’d received word from Amanda and the kids, and they’d driven straight through to her parents’ place. “I’m thankful to know they made it safely.”
“That’s good. I know they hated to leave you, though.”
“Believe me, it’s harder on me than it is on them,” Paul said.
“That’s your own fault.”
“It was the right thing to do. You know that.” He pulled in a breath. “Hey, did you catch the weather update?”
“Didn’t even turn on the television. I’m going old school. The storm will get here when it gets here.”
“Well, not going old school. I’ve been tracking it. The storm has picked up speed. Looks like it will probably hit around dinner.”
“That’s a good sign.”
Paul had a questioning look on his face. “A good sign would’ve been Hurricane Edwina had turned and headed out to sea.”
“Well, that’s true, but in my experience,” Tug said, “it seems the most damaging storms hit in the middle of the night. Like a sneak attack.”
“Interesting.”
“Don’t know if there’s any hard data on that—just this old man’s recollection.”
“That’s worth something,” Paul said. “We’ll take all the good signs we can find.”
By seven o’clock Hurricane Edwina teased the coastline again, bringing with her the heaviest rains. Inside the building, the sound of wind and rain battering against the metal storm panels created an eerie backdrop.
Paul paced in his office, which overlooked the entire ground floor of Paws. Four of his employees were sitting at a table in the middle of the agility training area, playing Scrabble. They had a few of the smaller dogs out with them. “None of them, the people or the dogs, seem too concerned,” Paul said. “The noise is mind numbing.”
“It’s only just begun,” Tug said. “But these metal buildings make it sound even worse.”
“I’m worried about a few of the retired military working dogs. A couple experienced some pretty tough trauma on the front lines. Big noises can unsettle them.”
“You’ve always said they are soldiers too.”
“Yeah. I guess I do say that all the time, but it’s true. Folks forget that these dogs have emotional baggage when they come home too.”
“Probably more so, because they can’t talk it out.”
“Well, I do my best. I’m going to go check on my soldiers,” he said to Tug. “We’ve got a long storm window ahead of us.”
Tug saw the concern etched on his face. “Need help?”
“No. I just need to ease my mind.” Paul went downstairs.
Those dogs weren’t the only ones anxious because of this storm. Paul might’ve been the one who insisted Amanda take the kids out of town, but neither one of them wanted to be apart.
Tug turned his attention back to the weather channel. A blonde wearing a big raincoat hung on to her hood with one hand as the rain pelted her. “The rain is really coming in down here on Atlantic Beach,” she said, blinking. Poor girl had to shout over the gusting wind. She let out a squeal when a piece of paper flew against her body.
He felt a little bad for laughing. The woman slapped the soggy paper away like it was some sort of critter on the attack. “Things are really flying around here. I’m going to get inside. There’s a parking garage across the way. We’re going to stream some footage and check back in shortly.”
The cameraman swooped away from the reporter and showed the ocean crashing against the sand, then panned to the streetlight, where you could see the rain coming down heavy and at an angle that really accentuated the wind speed. A decorative flag on a pole in front of one merchant whipped in the air. About that time, a box blew down the street.
“How’s it looking?”
“Like Mother Nature is throwing a tantrum,” Tug said.
Paul leaned against the back of Tug’s chair, watching as the meteorologist broke back in to give his update. Hurricane Edwina was still gaining strength. Winds were expected to be over one hundred and ten miles per hour. “I’ve never been through a storm this size before. Guess this will be the test to see if I got what I paid for,” he mumbled.
“I imagine we’ll lose power soon.”
The lights flickered.
“Don’t say things like that,” Paul said.
“I think this storm is coming no matter what I say. Besides, you said you have a generator.”
“I do, but the longer the power stays on, the less damage this storm is causing.”
“Good point.” Tug leaned back in his chair. “Thing about hurricanes, they aren’t always very fast. Did you know there was once a hurricane that lasted twenty-eight days? The Great Bahamas Hurricane back in 1899. You might just want to settle in for the long haul.”
A loud rumble reverberated through the building.
“Was that thunder?”
“I hope that’s all it was,” Tug said.
Time dragged on.
The power went out around ten o’clock that night, but the generator kicked right in, and the extra noise actually became more soothing than the sound of the storm.
Paul kept walking the perimeter inside the building, making sure all was okay. He was nervous, but Tug didn’t know how to soothe his concerns.
As the hours passed, the atmosphere shifted between tense anticipation and weary resignation. People were getting tired, but they were too amped to sleep.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly, each rain-pounding moment feeling like an eternity as they waited for the worst of Hurricane Edwina to pass. Conversation ebbed and flowed, punctuated by the occasional ping of something slamming the building as if they needed a reminder of what was going on outside.
For two days, Hurricane Edwina parked over top of them, dropping inches of rain without a pause.
Finally, on the third day, the howling winds subsided and the first rays of dawn brightened the sky. Low and full, the clouds rolled by like a video on fast-forward. Good riddance.
Tug cooked breakfast for the thirty or so people, counting the employees and their families, who had sheltered here at Paws Town Square. Paul hadn’t skimped on the kitchen space when designing this place, although most of the storage was filled with pet food.
But Paul, being a smart thinker, had stocked up on plenty of food to get them through the storm, and Tug was taking full advantage of having the quiet kitchen to himself. Everything was shiny and new, unlike his diner. The smell of fresh-made biscuits he’d slid into the oven a bit ago filled the air while he scrambled eggs and fried a huge pan of bacon.
Tug was pulling the biscuits out, golden and irresistible, just as Paul walked in.
“You, my friend, have impeccable timing,” Tug said. “Every single time I have a meal ready, you show up out of nowhere.”
“My mom used to say that about me too. Looks good.” Paul smiled but then lifted his phone in frustration. “I lost my cell signal. I don’t like that,” he said. “But I could get used to waking up to home cooking.”
“It’s what I do best, but you have another option. A better one named Amanda and two delightful kids that would probably fight over who will pour your juice.” Tug checked his phone. “I don’t have a signal either.”
“Well, that’s not good.” Paul turned on the television in the kitchen. “Somehow we still have cable, though.”
“Thank goodness for that generator,” Tug said.
“True. Let everyone know we can eat in my office upstairs and keep check on the storm updates. Hopefully, the worst of it is over.”
Tug walked out of the kitchen and called out to the others, “Breakfast is ready!”
The sound of people talking as they made their way to the food was soothing to Tug. “We can all eat up in Paul’s office. It seems we have cable. Go figure.”
Everyone made their plates, then went to Paul’s office to eat and catch the most recent weather updates on the big-screen television.
The chatter was optimistic. There were no reports about Whelk’s Island specifically, but for the most part, those south of them were reporting back, and it looked like the storm was finally rolling out to sea.
“Think we can open the storm panels?” Chase asked. “I’m going stir crazy in here.”
“Yes. Looks like the worst is over. Let’s eat, and we’ll get to work on that.” Paul scooped his eggs onto his biscuit and took a bite.
Everyone looked a little bleary eyed from lack of sleep, but it seemed like Paws had withstood the storm.
Paul, Tug, and Chase surveyed the situation while spending the next four hours opening and storing the storm panels. The trees Paul had planted when they opened Paws had blown over. They were young trees, so that didn’t surprise any of them, but even Tug, who’d been through lots of storms, couldn’t believe the enormous amount of sand that had washed in. A layer hid the dark pavement, piling around the tires of the vehicles.
“The storm hit right at high tide. This is what they were talking about, the storm surge being a game changer.” Tug was eager to get home and check on his place. “The water was so high I bet we’ve got major flooding closer to the beach.”
“I’ll drive out and see,” Paul said.
“I’m afraid that wet sand is going to be more like quicksand,” Tug said.
“Good point. I’ll get the guys to pull the skid steer out and clear a path to the road.” The three of them crossed the parking lot to the street to get a feel for how the roads were. From here they could see several trees down, and across the highway an entire row of power lines was down.
“That’s going to take some time to repair,” Tug commented.
“Holy cow.” Paul nudged Tug’s arm, pointing to the other side of the building. “Is that what I think it is?”
Tug turned to where Paul was looking. Parked as if it belonged there, a fishing boat now sat up against the right side of Paws Town Square. “If you think it’s a boat, yeah, it’s what you think it is. Pretty nice one too.”
“How the heck—”
“The marina is a long way off. I have no earthly idea. I’d say it’s probably a good thing we couldn’t see what was going on out here from in there.”
“For sure.” Paul reached for his phone. “I wish I could call Amanda.” He lifted it, hoping for a signal.
Until they got this parking lot partially cleared, it was doubtful they could get to anywhere with a signal, even in Paul’s big four-wheel drive.
The ditches overflowed across the street.
A police siren caught their attention.
The SUV pulled up and rolled down the window. “Everything okay over here?”
“Think so,” Paul said. “I own Paws Town Square.”
“I recognize you from the town council meetings,” the officer said. “Hey, Tug. You stayed down here?”
“I got talked into it.”
“Probably a good thing. The beach roads down your way are still completely underwater.”
“We can’t get down there?” Paul asked. “Not even with my four-by-four?”
“No. We blocked off the roads to keep anyone from trying until we can make sure it’s safe. There are a ton of guidelines we have to follow. Power lines, all that, to be sure it’s safe. Until the tide goes out, we won’t even be able to start that.”
Tug let out a groan.
“I’ll keep you posted, Tug,” the officer said.
“Yeah, thanks. I appreciate that. How about at the point? Maeve’s old place,” Tug asked.
“Things are in pretty good shape out that way.”
“That’s good news.” Paul stepped closer to the vehicle. “You have cell service?”
“No, but I have an update on it. They think it’ll be back up by tomorrow. The tower out here had some damage, but some people are getting out intermittently. So, you might just keep trying. I think it’s a combination of the tower down and just a lot of people trying to call at once.”
“Maybe,” Tug said. “Some old-school ways are just more dependable. I bet my landline at the house is working.”
“Well, you can’t get down there to check.” The officer gave Tug a look that said he suspected Tug would try.
Tug just grinned. If he had his truck here, he’d be there by now.
“We’re still following up on folks we couldn’t get to during the storm,” the officer said. “Live power lines down, a few roofs pulled off in the wind. The shelter is pretty full.”
“Remind anyone displaced that Paws is open to the public, free of charge, and I have a generator and space available for their pets. It’s not a hotel, but it’s comfortable. Plenty of benches to stretch out on.”
“And Tug’s cooking,” Chase added.
“I might come and take a nap here later myself,” the officer said.
“You’re welcome to. Not kidding.”
“Well, y’all stay out of trouble. We’ve got our hands full with people getting out here before the water subsides. Had some dude wading in chest-high water with a cooler of beer waving me down for help earlier. Drunk as a skunk and as shriveled as a prune. He was out in the storm the whole time, and he has a house here. What was he thinking?”
“Seriously?” Paul and Chase looked horrified.
“I could venture a guess from a short list who it was,” Tug said. “Crazies in every generation.”
The officer’s radio crackled with a muffled announcement. “That’s me. Gotta go.” He pulled off, hit the siren in a short whoop-whoop, and did a U-turn toward the oceanfront.
Paul draped his arm across Tug’s shoulders. “Guess we’re going to have to wait to see how much water we’re dealing with down in your neck o’ the shore.”
“Guess so.” The one thing Tug was never that good at? Waiting.