Chapter 11: Power Outage

"No," I said.

Graham's smile stayed where it was.

"Nora. You're not well."

"I'm very well," I said. "I'm standing in a field in front of forty parents, and I'm saying no."

Phones had come out along the sideline.

Not many, but enough.

A father in a ball cap lifted his, aimed it at Graham and did not pretend otherwise.

Graham saw it.

I watched him do the arithmetic, the whole cold sum, in the space of a breath.

He took off his sunglasses and folded them into his breast pocket.

"We'll finish this at home," he said.

"It's not your home."

"You'll see how much it isn't mine."

He looked at the coach, and the coach looked at the grass.

"Cousin, we'll talk tonight."

He walked back to the green SUV.

He did not look at Cal again.

That was the part I thought about on the drive back.

The storm came in at six.

It came off the harbor in one gray sheet.

By seven the wind had taken a maple limb across the power line at the end of the drive.

The main house kept its lights because Graham had paid a man in September to wire a generator.

My kitchen wing did not.

I sat at my table in the dark with a candle and a cold bowl of soup.

Gran's quilt was around my shoulders.

Upstairs, I could hear music, and Teddy's high laugh, and a door.

At nine I put on my boots and went out into the rain.

I told myself I was going to see if the carriage house had lost power too.

I did not go on telling myself that for very long.

The garage doors were shut.

I knocked on the small side door, once.

Cal opened it with a lantern in his hand.

He had a dry shirt on, and wet hair, and no shoes.

Keep reading free with an account. Start He Gave Her My Home, So I Took Back My Life from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.