“Help you?”
He had to look for the origin of the voice. A chubby deputy sat fanning himself at one of the back desks.
“Oh, good. I was worried the law had shut down, too.”
“Depends on how you look at it, I guess.”
The man looked like Wilford Brimley, but his name tag read ED GRAY. “Look, you need to get over to Fairview Street. My car was broken into and the stereo was taken, and there are people stealing everything they can carry.”
The deputy, who looked way past retirement age, seemed unimpressed. “We know. We’re on it.”
Doug just looked at him. “You are? What are you doing about it?”
The man pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his neck. Sweat rings the size of pizza pans had formed under his armpits. “It’s hard to patrol without the cars running, but we’ve got every available man out on bikes today. Even so, our hands are tied. If we round up the thieves and vandals, how do we get ’em back here? Walk ’em in handcuffs for four or five miles? We got a whole jail full of convicts we can’t feed now, and we’ll probably get sued for holdin’ ’em in dark cells—cruel and inhuman punishment and all that—if we don’t have an out-and-out riot.”
And Doug thought he had problems. “I understand, but you can’t just let the thieves get away with this. It could get dangerous.”
The man threw his handkerchief on his cluttered desk. “I told you, we’re on it. But we can’t be everywhere. I’m here to keep the office open and take complaints. You want to file a complaint, sit down and I’ll get you the paperwork. Or if you want to put on a uniform and go after ’em, be my guest.”
Doug didn’t think he’d take him up on the offer. “No, I have my family to take care of.”
“So do most of our guys. But they’re out there busting their bums. And for what? They can’t even cash their paychecks, with the banks closed.”
Doug quelled the sarcasm on the tip of his tongue. He didn’t want to upset him more. “Listen, do you know what caused the outage?”
“Not a clue.”
“You’re not in communication with any government authorities?”
“How could I be?”
Deputy or not, the guy had a real attitude. “I don’t know. I just thought that maybe government and law enforcement had some kind of plan for a crisis like this.”
“We got plans, pal. We got plans for explosions and tornado warnings and school shootings and about a zillion other things. But we never planned for this. Everything going out at once. It’s like a fluke of nature.”
“Has anybody come in from out of town?” Doug asked. “Some place where there’s still power?”
“Nobody yet. I’ve been all over this morning, and I haven’t seen one moving vehicle. Even if somebody came, they probably couldn’t pass through our streets with all the cars blocking the way. One thing you can do is tell everybody to come push their stalled cars off the road to make room for any moving vehicles that might make their way here. You want to help, you can find some men and get started on that.”
“But there are thousands of cars. There’s no way we could put a dent in that. And that would invite even more thefts, having people moving cars that weren’t theirs.”
“You come up with a better idea, then,” the man said. “What are you? Some kind of computer jockey, I bet.”
He didn’t know why he felt insulted. “No. I’m a stockbroker.”
The man grimaced. “Like I thought. Talks on the phone all day and thinks he can tell me how to do my job.”
This was going nowhere. Doug could sit around bantering with this man all morning, or he could get back to his family and try to do something constructive. He thanked the officer and left, feeling as useless as the deputy thought he was.
ten
Kay wiped the sweat from her brow and brought the last of the cooked meat in from the barbecue pit. It was much more than they could eat—six steaks, a dozen pork chops, ten hamburger patties, and a whole chicken. The freezer had kept the meat cold as it thawed last night, but she had no choice but to cook it all today or let it go to waste.
“I’m not eating that,” Beth said, bringing the last platter into the house. “I’m a vegetarian.”
“Since when?”
“Since I felt like barfing the minute you started cooking spoiled meat.”
“It’s not spoiled. It was still cool this morning.”
“You hope. It’s not like you can get us to the hospital when we start croaking of food poisoning.”
Clearly, her younger daughter had a bright future in theatre. “There’s too much to eat all by ourselves anyway. I was thinking we could take some to the neighbors. I need to check on Eloise. You can come with me.”
Beth shook her head. “I don’t want any part of that. Feeding spoiled food to a woman who’s already sick?”
The seventy-year-old widow across the street had inoperable liver cancer and had been taking chemo treatments every three weeks.
“It’s not spoiled, I told you. Stop saying that.”
Deni came in, hauling a bucket of water she’d gotten at the lake, and sloshed it up onto the counter. “Slave labor. We should have a pool, Mom. If we did, we wouldn’t have to drag that nasty water back from the lake, and we could wash off our grime. It’s just crazy that we don’t have one. You know we can afford it.”
“We don’t have one because I didn’t want to take care of it, your father doesn’t have time, and I knew I couldn’t get any help from the four of you.”
“And now look,” Deni said. “No water, no bath, no nothing. What are we going to do about the wedding plans? This may be the last week I’ll be home before then, since I won’t have vacation time.”
“I don’t know,” Kay said. “If the power doesn’t come back on in the next few days, I guess I’ll have to do the planning myself.”
“No way. I want to plan my own wedding. I want to see the flowers, taste the cake, hear the music. I have no intention of being denied that.”
“Deni, the wedding is five months away. We’re fine. We don’t have to decide that today.” She thrust a plate of pork chops at Deni. “Here, while I take some of these to Eloise, why don’t you take a plate to the Caldwells next door? And then take some chicken to the Rowes.”
“Right,” Beth said. “Poison the babies, too.”
Kay ignored her. With three kids under three, the young couple next door probably had their hands full and would be happy to have the food. “While you’re there, Deni, ask them if they have any matches they can spare. Then hurry back so we can eat before it cools.”
Kay found Eloise sitting on her front porch, looking pale and sickly, her bald head hidden beneath a bandana tied neatly at the nape of her neck. She took the pork chops thankfully, then invited Kay into the dark, hot house.
Kay followed her into the lonely living room. Eloise’s son, a big-shot trial lawyer up in Boston, had bought his widowed mother this house five years ago, and hired a decorator to deck it out. Kay had mentioned once how moved Eloise must have been by the gift.
The older woman’s eyes welled with tears. “It was a lovely gift, but to tell you the truth, I’d rather have stayed in the house I raised my children in and have them come visit me once in a while. My son’s never even seen the house he bought me.”
Now the woman’s loneliness seemed even more stark.
Eloise had lost more weight in the last few weeks, and her skin looked paper-thin. “Has anyone been in touch with the power company?” she asked.
Kay just looked at her, wondering if she was unaware of the extent of the problem. “Uh . . . no. The phones don’t work. Even the cars are dead.”
Eloise stared at her for a moment. “So that’s why my car didn’t start. I thought I must have a problem with my battery. And the water . . . It’s out, too. I know I paid my water bill.”
“I’m afraid no one has water, Eloise. Crazy, isn’t it?”
Her bare eyebrows lifted. “You
wouldn’t be pulling an old woman’s leg, would you?”
Kay couldn’t help chuckling. “I wish I were. We don’t know what’s causing all this, but Doug thinks it’s going to last longer than a few days.”
“Oh, my. I was supposed to go for chemo today.”
Kay’s heart sank. Eloise’s cancer was aggressive and had already spread to several organs. “What will happen if you miss a treatment?”
“Well, I suppose I can make it up when things get back to normal.”
“But it’s crucial that you have it, isn’t it? We have to figure out a way to get you there.”
The woman crossed the room and took Kay’s hands. “Honey, don’t you give it a thought. The Lord will take care of me. He knows what I need. And frankly, I’m just as glad to have a few extra days before the next treatment. Maybe I’ll have time to grow my eyelashes back.”
Kay laughed softly. “You look beautiful without them.”
Eloise waved her off. “Now you’re going too far. I spent the first half of my life trying to have long, silky hair. Now all I want for Christmas is eyebrows.”
Thank heaven Eloise still had her sense of humor. “Surely the hospitals are offering critical care,” Kay said. “We have bicycles. Maybe we could get you to the hospital on one of those.”
Eloise laughed. “Me, on a bike? I could never make it without falling and breaking every bone in my body. It’s been thirty years since I’ve ridden one. And how would I get back, as sick as I am when it’s over? No, hon, I’m better off just waiting this out. I’ll consider it a blessing from God. A nice reprieve. I’ll just enjoy it.”
Kay wished she had something more to offer her. “Do you need anything? Do you have plenty of food, water?”
The woman looked around. “Water might be a problem. I have a pitcher of tea, but when that’s out, I’ll have to make my way to the lake, I s’pose. But I’ll manage. Isn’t this odd? Wonder what the Lord is doing?”
“You sound like Doug. But maybe God has nothing to do with this. Maybe we should blame terrorists instead of God.”
“Well, it’s not like a plague swept over the city and struck everyone with illness,” Eloise said. “We’re all fine. What a gentle way to get our attention.”
Kay turned that over in her mind as she studied her friend. “You have a very nice way of looking at things, Eloise.”
Eloise’s eyes sparkled. “An experienced way. I’ve seen God do amazing things in my lifetime. Maybe this is one of those things.”
eleven
Deni and Beth took the last of the grilled chicken over to the Rowes’ house and knocked on the door. Deni had never met the family. They had moved in just a year ago, while she’d been away at college.
As Beth knocked on the door, Deni heard a baby crying inside. Someone called, “Coming!” But no one did.
Finally, when they’d almost given up, the door flew open.
The woman standing there, with a baby on each hip, didn’t look much older than Deni.
She was pretty, but mascara was smeared under her eyes, and she wore a wrinkled T-shirt and shorts that looked slept in. The woman was in serious need of a makeover.
Deni tried to look friendly. “Hi, I’m Deni from next door. We were cooking our meat and had extra.”
“Oh, wow. Come on in.”
They followed her into the big house. An older child, about three years old, sat near the patio door playing with Legos. The sparse furnishings made it look as if they’d bought more house than they could afford, so had little left with which to furnish it.
“You caught me at a bad time . . .” The woman set the babies down on the floor, and Beth plopped down to play with them. One looked around two, the other about nine months. “I was losing it. I’m out of diapers, and I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”
Deni didn’t know what to say. “You want me to put the chicken in the kitchen?”
“Yeah. Hey, thanks for that. We need it. I haven’t eaten yet today.”
As Amber followed her into the kitchen, Deni set the chicken on the counter and saw a dozen unwashed bottles near the sink. It looked like she was having a hard time.
“I’m sorry for the mess,” Amber said, “but without water I can’t wash the bottles.”
“Everybody’s house is a mess. You should see ours. We’re getting water down at the lake. You should ask your husband to go get you some.”
Amber closed her eyes. “My husband isn’t . . .” Her voice broke off. “Well, he just isn’t home.”
“Oh, no. He wasn’t stranded somewhere last night, was he?” Deni launched into the story about her journey home from the airport, but Amber didn’t seem that engaged.
When Deni stopped talking, Amber said, “He isn’t stranded.” Tears sprang to her eyes, and she grabbed a paper towel and wiped her nose.
Deni didn’t know what had set her off. Frustration at the outage? Three children under three? Marital problems?
Amber stepped into the doorway and made sure Beth was all right with the children. Finally, she turned back. “Do you know anybody in the neighborhood who might have extra diapers? I should have gone to get some yesterday, but then the blackout happened, and I ran out.”
“We could ask around,” Deni said. “I haven’t lived here for a while. I’ve been away at college, so I don’t really know the younger families.”
“I know somebody who might have some,” Beth called from the living room.
“Who?”
“My teacher, Mrs. Abernathy. She lives two streets over. Before school was out last week, she kept gushing about her grandbaby who was visiting. I’ll bet she has some.”
“We can go ask her,” Deni said.
Amber blew her nose. “That would be great. Thank you.”
Deni hesitated. “If your husband’s not here, are you going to be able to get to the lake to get water?”
“No, it’s kind of hard with the children. I was hoping I could get them to nap later, and I could go then.”
As much as Deni hated to help with that particular task, she supposed she’d have to offer. “I’ll bring you some. Do you have a way to boil it?”
More tears. “I have a charcoal grill in back, but you can’t boil water like that. Oh, I’ll figure out something.”
Deni couldn’t wait to get out of there, but she hated leaving her like this. “Are you all right?”
Amber drew in a deep breath and tried to pull herself together. “Yeah, I’m okay. Frankly, I was a basket case before the power went out.” She tried to smile. “So are you home for the summer or just visiting?”
“I’m visiting. I have to be in Washington to start my new job on Monday. I came home to do some wedding planning.”
The two-year-old called out for his mommy and came running into the kitchen. Amber swept him up. “Married, huh? You sure you wanna do that?”
Deni breathed a laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure. Why?”
Amber got some plates out of the cupboard. “I don’t know. You’re just awfully young.”
Young? Like Amber was any older! “I’m twenty-two. You don’t look that much older.”
“I’m not,” Amber said. “I got married when I was your age. And look at me now.”
“Yeah, look at you. You live in a beautiful house in a nice neighborhood, with three beautiful children and a husband—”
“You should have stopped with the three beautiful children.”
Deni just looked at her.
“My husband left me two weeks ago.”
Deni’s heart sank. “Oh, Amber. I’m so sorry.”
“And now I’m stuck here in the dark with three babies and I feel totally, absolutely helpless.”
“He left you with three children under three?”
“Oh yeah.” Her lips quivered as she tried to hold back her tears. “Said it was too stressful at home, that he needed a breather. Like I’m not under stress! They’re his kids, too, and you don’t just run off—”
“What
a jerk. No wonder you’re losing it.”
Amber nodded, as if she appreciated the affirmation. “And when this outage happened yesterday, I was completely unprepared. I planned to go to the grocery store last night. I had a baby-sitter coming so I could do my shopping, but she never showed.” She stopped and covered her face, then slid her fingers down. “I need baby food, and I have to wash bottles and dishes . . . I don’t even have a flashlight or candles. I had to put the kids to bed in the dark. I had so much to do after they went to bed, but I couldn’t see to do it. I’ve never been so glad for morning in my life . . . but I still feel helpless.”