Page 49 of No Judgements

“Ed went down to check on it at first light. Sandbags kept the water out.”

“Well, that’s a relief!”

“Yes. What about Sandy Point?” Mrs. Hartwell’s voice was elaborately casual. “Any news?”

“No, sorry, hon.” Joanne’s tone was gentle. “No one can get near it—the roads are too bad. But have you heard about the bridge?”

“Which bridge?”

“The one from the island to the highway to the mainland. Gone.”

“No!”

“They’re saying a yacht from the Little Bridge Yacht Club got loose from its moorings and floated free and struck the pilings in just the right place.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake!”

“No one is going to be able to get on or off the island, possibly for weeks, depending on how long it takes them to shore it up. Which means everyone who evacuated is stuck wherever they are.”

“Those poor souls!”

“Anyway, would it be all right if I dropped off some of Carl’s insulin to keep in your fridge? We have it in a cooler for now, but who knows how long we’ll be able to keep getting ice.”

“Oh, of course, Joanne. Come over anytime. And we’ve got plenty of hot food and cold beer.”

“Lu, you’re an angel. See you soon.”

The two women hung up. I looked at Gary, who was happily kneading my thigh.Wow, I mouthed.

I grabbed some fresh clothes and jumped into the shower, bathing and dressing in record time. Then I followed the smell of coffee into the kitchen, where I found Mrs. Hartwell whisking what looked like the contents of an entire carton of eggs in a red plastic bowl.

“Good morning,” she said cheerfully. She, like me, was wearing shorts and a T-shirt, only her T-shirt was overlarge whereas mine was slightly too small. Both, however, had Mermaid Café written on them. “Did you sleep all right?”

“I did, thank you so much.” It seemed incredible to me that anyone could sleep through a hurricane, but the monotonous roar of the wind and pounding rain—or maybe the extremely low barometric pressure—had eventually knocked me out. I’d slept as soundly as a baby. “Would you like some help with that?”

“I’ve got bread toasting. You can help butter them when they pop up. There’s coffee in the machine, just grab acup from the shelf there and press the silver button. The girls aren’t up yet, but when they are I’ll have them set the table.”

“Great.” I didn’t want to say that I’d overheard her phone call, but I wanted to ask for more details about the storm damage. I also wanted to know if she’d heard from Drew. I tried for a general “So, have you heard anything about... the storm?”

“Well, it’s not as bad around here as they were saying it was going to be.” She set down her bowl to add salt and pepper to it. “Mostly wind damage, no flooding except for where you’d expect it. But I understand that farther up the Keys, it’s quite a disaster. And the bridge that connects us to the highway to the mainland is out.”

I widened my eyes, feigning surprise. “No!”

“Yes. And it could be for quite a while. So anyone who evacuated won’t be able to get back for a bit.”

“That’s terrible.” I couldn’t help myself. I had to ask: “And have you heard from your nephew?”

Mrs. Hartwell’s cheerful smile wavered only slightly. “Not yet. And since he doesn’t have a landline, and cell service is still out, we can’t call. But I’m sure he’ll show up here soon.”

I tried to keep my tone light, to match hers. “And you can’t drive over there and check?”

It was the wrong thing to say. The smile collapsed. “Haven’t you looked outside?”

Of course I hadn’t. I’d seen the sun shining through the shutters and assumed all was well—except for the bridge, of course.

Mrs. Hartwell, seeing my puzzled expression, took me by the elbow and steered me from the kitchen, down the hallway, through the dining room, past the sleeping girls in the living room, past my own room, and to the front door.

“Look,” she said, and threw the door open.