Chapter 24: You're Not Late

The storm came up the coast an hour before midnight, as the man on the radio had promised.

The wind hit the house first, and then the rain, and then the power went out.

Orin lit the camp lantern before I had found the matches.

"I thought you were across the road," I said.

"I was. I saw the lights go." He set the lantern on the table and went to the woodstove. "Wood's wood."

"Is that what you tell people at the door?"

"It's what I tell your sister."

He fed the stove two split logs, and the fire caught, and the kitchen turned orange.

My daughter slept in the bassinet by the stove with her fists up beside her ears.

I sat in the rocker with a blanket on my knees and listened to the wind lean on the windows.

I had not looked at a clock all evening.

I had not looked at my phone, either.

It was in a drawer, set right at last by a man at the phone store, who had laughed out loud at the settings.

I did not know what time it was.

For the first time in my life, it did not seem to matter.

"She's late," I said, finally.

"Maeve?"

"The bridge floods in a storm. She'll have to go the long way round."

"She's careful."

"She's a nurse who drives fast."

"Then she'll be careful and fast." He sat down on the floor beside the rocker, with his shoulder against my knee.

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