alone.
“Daria is the best, most wonderful sister in the world, but she’s never let me live my own life.”
“She’s never let herself live her own life, either,” Andy said.
Shelly raised her head to look at him, but it was too dark to see his face. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, she’s always had to look out for your welfare. She’s always put you first.”
Shelly shut her eyes and let her head fall to Andy’s shoulder again.
She knew that was the truth, but it hurt to think about it, to think about the sacrifices Daria had made for her. Even right this minute, she was causing problems for Daria. She knew that Daria had not evacuated the Outer Banks when she should have. She’d made Andy drive by the cul-de-sac to see if Daria and Chloe had left, and she was upset to learn they had not. It was because of her. They’d been all set to leave, but they’d stayed behind for her, even though she’d left that note telling them to go.
“I’m always messing up Daria’s life,” she said.
“But I just couldn’t leave.”
“I know,” Andy said. He’d been more than willing to ride out the storm with her. Andy was like that. He would do anything for her.
“Did you hear that?” Andy asked. He raised his head to listen. All Shelly could hear was the sound of the hurricane battering the house.
Then suddenly she heard someone yelling. Pounding on Andy’s back door, calling Andy’s name.
Andy got out of bed and pulled on his shorts. He ran into the kitchen as Shelly dressed. By the time she got into the kitchen, Andy was pulling open the back door, and his neighbor, Jim, nearly fell into the room.
“We need help!” Jim said. He wore a yellow slicker, and water poured from it onto Andy’s kitchen floor.
“They’re stuck! They’re trapped.”
“Slow down,” Andy said.
“What do you mean? Who’s” — “The boat turned over,” Jim said. He tried to look through Andy’s kitchen window, but plywood blocked his view.
“I’d tied it to the pier,” he said, “but when the water rose and the wind picked up, it looked like it was coming loose. So me and Julie went out there to tie it tighter, and we didn’t realize Jack was right behind us. The boat flipped onto the pier, and Jack and Julie are underneath it.”
“Oh, God.” Shelly covered her mouth with her hand, picturing Jim and Julie’s adorable five-year-old son trapped beneath the boat. She started toward the door, but Andy grabbed her arm.
“Get the slicker out of the front closet first,” he said.
“I’ll meet you out there.”
Shelly did as she was told, then ran outside to the pier, the wind nearly blowing her off her feet. The boat was barely visible, a great, beached whale on the pier, but she could hear the screams of the little boy beneath it. There was no sound, though, from Julie, at least none that could be heard above the howling of the wind.
“Help us. Shelly,” Andy said.
She could barely see the shapes of Andy and Jim standing at either end of the boat, trying to lift it off its victims. She ran to the side of the boat and tried to slip her hands beneath the rim. She could not budge it, not an inch, and her hands slipped off the wet fiberglass again and again. From beneath the boat, she heard Jack’s screams turn to whimpers, and she started to cry herself.
Andy ran toward her, grabbing her arm again.
“Go into the house and call 911,” he shouted.
“I’m going to go get Daria.”
Then Daria will know, she thought, but they had no choice. They needed help, and they needed it right away. She fought against the wind and rain into the house as Andy ran up the road toward his van, where he’d parked it away from the threat of the sound.
In the kitchen. Shelly tore the receiver from the wall phone. Her fingers shook so violently that she could barely press the numbers, and it wasn’t until she’d tried dialing them for the third time that she realized why her call wasn’t going through: the phone line was dead.
i f What’s that? ” Daria started at the thumping sound. She and Rory were still talking in the Sea Shanty living room, but the sudden pounding from the front porch had interrupted them. Standing up, she walked toward the door.
“Maybe one of the shutters came loose,” Rory suggested, following her.
Daria saw someone open the screen door and step onto the porch. She thought it might be Don Tibbie with news about Shelly, and her heart picked up its pace. Only when the man burst through the livingroom door did she realize it was Andy. He was shiftless; his long hair was loose and soaking wet, and water streamed over his face.
“Andy!” she said, alarmed by the sight of him.
“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you evacuate?”
“I need you and Rory.” Andy was winded, gasping for air.
“There was an accident next door to my house. My neighbor’s boat flipped over on the pier and his little boy and wife are trapped beneath it.”
Daria froze. I’m not an EMT anymore, she wanted to say, but knew there was no time for her to surrender to her fears. She ran back into the living room to get her ^j sneakers, crouching to tie them on her feet. “Did you call 9 II?” she asked.
