6. Kate
Kate had been awake since six-thirty and had read the entire Gospel of Mark for the second time, taking notes and checking some commentary online. She was trying to follow Eli’s advice to focus on the resurrection, but there were so many miracles—each one wildly difficult to believe.
She’d been so involved, she’d barely noticed that her teenaged roommate had gotten up, brushed her teeth, and disappeared just before eight.
Lifting her head from the page, Kate stretched her neck and back, moving the chair where she’d set up a small desk in the corner of their room. Some things, she realized, never changed. Kate Wylie stuck her head in a project—be it chemistry or religion—and the rest of the world disappeared.
She closed the Bible she’d been working in and caught the sound of some laughter floating up from downstairs, then baby Atlas gave a squeal. Life was happening at the Summer House.
Pushing up, she quickly changed, brushed her hair, grabbed her glasses, and followed the chatter of conversation.
In the kitchen, Eli was leaning against the counter in khaki shorts and a faded Atlanta Braves T-shirt—no architect work clothes today. He was on his phone, taking notes on the back of an envelope.
Jonah stood at the island bouncing Atlas in his seat with one hand and holding a cup with the other. Meredith was at the table with a laptop open and her hair piled up in a clip, looking intently at the screen.
“Morning,” Kate said to everyone. “Is Emma down here?”
“She went on the deck for a private moment with her Pop-Tart,” Jonah said. “I think she’s mad because I pointed out that they are not actually food.”
Kate cringed. “She’s addicted.”
“Am not!” Emma called from outside. “Just a human teenager who likes sugar. Which of you didn’t eat Pop-Tarts?”
They all shared a guilty look, and Kate walked over to the counter, drawn by the sheer presence of Eli—and caffeine.
“Morning.” Eli pulled the phone from his ear, kissed Kate’s temple as she reached for the pot, and went back to the call. “Right. Three sheets of three-quarter, six of half-inch, and however many sandbags they’ll let me have. I’ll pay cash and can be there in under an hour.”
“Aggressive Dad is my favorite,” Meredith said without looking up from her laptop. Then she smiled at Kate. “We have Hurricane Norman news.”
“It’s a three?” she asked.
“Not yet, but the cone of uncertainty has inched east and now includes part of the Panhandle.”
Kate bit her lip. “Yikes.”
“But Peter’s pulling strings to find us a huge Airbnb where we can all stay, far enough inland to be safe.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Kate said, pulling a stool to the island.
“The master plan is in Dad’s hands.” Meredith took a sip of coffee and eased the laptop away. “He’s also really worried about this deck. The Summer House only has hurricane shutters downstairs on Jonah’s level. He says we’ll have to board this floor and upstairs, at least the water-facing glass.”
“He can’t board the whole house alone,” Kate said.
“I can’t,” Eli said, ending his call and setting the phone on the counter. “Peter is up to his eyeballs at the sheriff’s office, at full deployment. My guys at Lakeside are buried. Everybody in the trade who owns a hammer in the northern half of Florida is booked through Saturday.”
Jonah looked up from Atlas. “You know you have me, except for tonight. Classes are canceled. Driftwood is open but I’m sure it’ll be closed Thursday through the weekend. Maybe forever if this storm wipes us out.”
“It’s not going to wipe us out,” Eli said. “It’s unlikely to reach cat four, but still strong. Any minute you’re not working, Jonah, I need you.”
Jonah threw a side-eye at Atlas. “I’ll ask Pepper to help, too. She’ll be here this afternoon.”
“Perfect,” Eli replied. “We’ve got the first floor squared away and once I have plywood, we’ll tackle the sliders, sandbags at the dune line, shutter the office, and we’ll see where the track goes. Landfall is predicted late Friday night, early Saturday morning.”
Kate watched Eli’s face. He had not, she realized, looked at her in any sustained way since she had sat down. He was running a list he’d been focused on for days.
There was a part of Kate that wanted to put her hand on the back of his neck and say look at me for a minute. There was another part that knew the man had eleven things to do before lunch and looking at her wasn’t one of them.
“Dunes will hold, for sure,” Vivien said, drifting in from the deck with her own mug. “They held in Opal.”
“They did,” Eli confirmed. “It’s the only reason the old cottage didn’t get demolished. I did some digging into newspaper accounts and, apparently, these were—might still be—the highest dunes on this strip.”
“Well, I hope Tessa’s okay.” Vivien refilled her coffee and turned to the rest of them. “They don’t have dunes down in Miramar. That whole stretch is just flat beach, road, and house.”
“She could get flooded,” Meredith said.
Eli held up a hand. “They’ll evacuate. She and Dusty are coming tonight at six for the hurricane meeting I called. I want everyone together so we can finalize plans.”
Just then, Jonah looked up from Atlas. “Isn’t anyone going to ask about the elephant—or I guess hog—in the room?”
At their inquisitive looks, he laughed. “The Harley that was parked in the driveway most of last evening. Whose was it?”
“Wasn’t mine,” Meredith said.
“Not guilty,” Vivien said. “And although I wouldn’t put it past him, not Peter’s.”
“Dad?” Jonah asked.
“I was at Lakeside till ten,” Eli said, frowning. “I thought it might be a friend of yours, Jonah.”
“Don’t look at me,” Emma called from the deck, obviously following the conversation. “I’ve done some dumb things, but no motorcycles. Yet.”
“Then who was it?” Eli asked.
Jonah tapped Atlas’s nose. “Do your great-grannies have a side hustle we don’t know about?”
Everyone laughed, but something shifted in Kate’s heart. Something wasn’t right about that. There really were only two other residents of the Summer House…a couple of near eighty-year-olds who had surprised them all with a red convertible T-Bird and a lot of mystery lately.
Kate set down her mug.
“I’m going up to see Mom,” she said.
Eli, halfway to the front door, paused. “Six o’clock tonight. Tell her.”
“I will.”
He kissed her temple again, briefly, and was gone.
The apartment over the garage was quiet when Kate knocked. “Mom? It’s me.”
“Oh, Kate, honey. I’m on the balcony. Come in!”
She stepped inside to find her mother outside on the Juliet balcony with a cup of tea and a watering can. The plants were her new obsession.
She came in and put both down on the counter, beaming at Kate. “Hello, sweetie.”
As soon as they hugged, Kate could tell that her mother was vibrating with something. Jo Ellen could not contain a secret if you sewed her into one. She was practically luminous.
“I’m so glad you came up.” Jo Ellen slid onto a barstool and patted the one next to her. “Come. Sit. I feel like I haven’t seen you in days, but everyone is so busy with this Norman fellow coming. Where’ve you been?”
“Right downstairs.” Kate slid onto the stool. “Where’s Maggie?”
“Morning walk, which she takes even though Pittypat has gone to Atlanta with Crista and company. Maggie walks anyway, which is why the woman is a size eight at her age.” She picked up her tea. “Can I get you one?”
“No, I’m fine. I just wanted to pop in and ask…do you know anything about a motorcycle parked in the driveway last night?”
“It was Maggie’s date.”
Kate drew back. “Excuse me?”
“Well, she says they’re just friends, but no matter. Are you keeping up with the storm?”
“Yes, and I really hope you’ve changed your mind and let me get you on a plane to Ithaca tomorrow.”
“Not a chance.” Mom picked up her tea, trying to be casual for reasons Kate did not understand. “I told you I want the experience of a hurricane.”
“Mom. It’s a category two now, by landfall it could easily be a three, four, or even five. There will be a storm surge and insane traffic and some windows or roof could be missing.”
“We’re not staying here,” she said. “We’ll be fine. Maggie and I have…a plan.”
“Okay.” Kate let her stool turn slightly. “What’s the plan?”
“Oh.” Jo Ellen waved her hand. “You know. Evacuate. Inland. With friends.”
“You mean the Cavallaris?” Kate asked. “I’m certain I heard Maggie say they were going to one of their kids’ houses. And Eli wants—”
“Other friends.”
Her heart dropped. “The friends with motorcycles?”
Jo Ellen took a sip of tea, and it didn’t take Kate’s well-trained observation skills to see she was obviously avoiding answering a direct question.
“Mom.”
“It’s really nothing to worry about, Kate. Eli is so busy and we don’t want to add to his stress. We’ll handle ourselves.”
“You and Maggie will not handle yourselves. You will go where Eli tells you to go. He’s coordinating the whole family, and the evacuation plan will be announced at a meeting tonight at six.”
Jo Ellen snorted. “A meeting? And who appointed him my keeper?”
“He’s helping everyone,” Kate said, naturally defensive. “That’s his role—family leadership.”
“Well, last I checked, I was nearly eighty and perfectly capable of deciding where I would like to spend a Saturday.”
“You’re not spending a Saturday,” Kate said. “You’re evacuating from a deadly storm.”
“Oh, hush. Maggie and I are very independent women.”
Maggie and I. Before Destin, her mother’s sentences had started with I. Now they started with Maggie and I.
The door opened and Maggie walked in, slightly flushed, but somehow still looking put-together and regal. Kate decided to dive right in.
“Maggie, did you have a date with a man on a motorcycle last night?”
“Oh, hello, Kate.” Maggie set her water bottle on the counter and dabbed her temples, which were glistening. “Would you like coffee?”
“No, I’d like answers. Got any?”
On a huff of breath, Maggie walked to the coffee pot. “It’s Brick Collins’s bike. He dropped me off last night. He left it parked because the man cannot help himself, but we took my car to dinner.”
Kate sat very still, processing. Brick? That was a man’s name? And Maggie went to dinner with him? Alone?
“Who is Brick Collins?”
“My friend.” Maggie poured a cup. “And Jo’s.”
“And mine,” Jo Ellen chirped. “We’re friends.”
Nothing about this made sense. “Maggie. I’m sorry,” Kate pressed, “you went out with a man last night?”
“I had dinner with my friend, who is a man. You don’t have to make it sound like we reenacted Love Story.”
“On a motorcycle?”
“In my car. The motorcycle was his transport here. He had no intention of putting me on it. I mean, Kate, please.” Maggie set her mug down and pinned her gaze—precisely the blue of Eli’s—on Kate.
“It was a lovely dinner at a place called Crabby’s.
The chef-owner is named Picks, and he’s a friend of Brick’s.
We had a lovely time with delightful conversation. You know, what you do with friends.”
“How did you meet…Brick?” she asked, waiting for something horrifying like…on the apps.
“Oh, a while ago when Jo Ellen and I were…on one of our trips. He and his friends helped repair the Cavallaris’ truck and then…”
“Then?” Kate asked.
Maggie and Jo Ellen shared a look, a glimmer of mirth in their eyes. They were definitely hiding something.
“Does it really matter, Kate?” Maggie asked.
“Aren’t we allowed to have friends?” Jo Ellen added.
“Of course.” Kate drew the words out. “Well, that’s nice.”
“It was,” Maggie confirmed. “In fact, your mother and I are spending the storm at a…a roadhouse in Crawfordville, which will help Eli with logistics, I’m sure. Fewer folks to evacuate.”
Kate opened her mouth and shut it again, digesting this new piece of unfathomable information.
“A roadhouse?” What exactly was that? She kind of knew, but wasn’t sure Maggie did.
“It’s called Gator Jack’s. Very…lively.”
“There’s a pink-haired bartender named Charlene,” her mother added. “And a jukebox that plays oldies. We’ll dance for sure.”
Kate drew back in horror. “What…when…where is Crawfordville?” It was all she could manage.
“Inland enough to be safe,” Maggie said. “We will be surrounded by good people, mediocre food, and shutters on every window. We’ll spend the night there.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Jo Ellen said under her breath.
“You’ve been there before?” Her voice rose with each shocking revelation.
“Honey.” Her mother put a light hand on Kate’s arm. “I do have a life. And friends. And now, for the first time in nearly eight decades, I’m going to a hurricane party! Isn’t it exciting?”
“It’s insane!”
“Says who?” Maggie shot back.
“It’s not an experience, Mom. It’s a natural disaster.” Kate pushed up. “Eli won’t hear of it.”
Maggie leaned over the counter. “Eli’s my son, Kate. He knows his boundaries. Jo and I have our plan and we’re looking forward to it. We’ll stay in touch by phone and I promise you, we will not be on a motorcycle in the storm.”
Kate put both hands flat on the counter and made herself take a slow breath.
Maggie came around the peninsula and stood next to Jo Ellen.
“We will be perfectly safe. I have not lost my mind. Your mother has not lost hers. We are two grown women who have decided where we would like to be when a storm passes through, and we would very much appreciate it if our children would…back off and let us.”
Kate didn’t answer.
“Kate,” her mother said, gentler. “I know it’s a lot.”
“It is a lot.”
Jo Ellen reached over without looking and put her hand on Maggie’s back in a move of pure solidarity. Kate watched the two of them and felt something quiet, and slightly wrenching, click into place.
Her mother had a person. A forever friend, a companion, and a replacement not for Artie, her beloved husband, but for Kate, the daughter who’d been there since that husband died. Tessa had flitted off to work on cruise lines and for the Ritz-Carlton, but Kate had stayed home in Ithaca.
And now, she was…not needed.
It was, Kate had to admit, a good thing. But it was also a little sad. Changing seasons always were.
“Okay,” she said finally. “I don’t love it. But I am not going to fight you about Crawfordville.”
“Thank you,” the two of them said in unison.
Kate stood. The morning had taken a turn she had not anticipated, and she had research to get back to. She was, she realized, going to need a longer walk than usual before she sat down with a notebook and Bible again.
“Six o’clock tonight in the kitchen,” she said. “Eli’s taking everyone through evacuation and preparation. He expects you both. You can tell him about Crawfordville yourself.”
“We will.” Her mother got up, too, and put a tender arm around her. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
When she left, Kate walked down to the beach instead of back into the house, because she needed to clear her head before she could read another word of the Bible.