“I’ll go with you,” she said, shouting above the wind.
Rory nodded. He put his arm around her and they plowed their way across the cul-de-sac.
Inside Poll-Rory, the darkness was disorienting, and the wind groaned and whistled. Daria stood in the living room, feeling lost and cold.
The storm had brought frigid air with it, and she shivered in her wet clothes. Her sore finger throbbed. Rory tried the switch for the overhead light, but the power was, of course, still out.
He shined his flashlight toward a cupboard at the rear of the room.
“I
have a lantern in that closet,” he said.
“And matches in the drawer in the kitchen. Why don’t you take care of that, and I’ll find us some dry clothes to change into.”
He disappeared into one of the bedrooms, and, by the weak, yellow beam of her own flashlight, Daria found the lantern, checked the oil and lit the wick. In a moment, Rory reappeared. He handed her a bundle of soft fabric and pointed toward another bedroom.
“Why don’t you change in there. There are towels in the bathroom.”
The wet clothes stuck to her body like a thin layer of cold plaster.
She peeled them off, underwear and all, and hung them over the shower rod in the bathroom. Rory had given her one of his sweatshirts, either navy blue or black, she couldn’t tell which in the fading glow from her flashlight, along with gray sweatpants that were way too large for her. She put the clothes on over her bare skin, tried unsuccessfully to run her fingers through her wet hair and walked into the living room.
Rory, too, was in sweatpants and sweatshirt, standing in the middle of the room, holding the lantern. He smiled at her.
“Feel better?” he asked.
“Physically,” she said, sitting down on the sofa.
“But I’m… still pretty shaken up by everything that happened tonight.”
“How about something to drink?” he asked.
“Power’s out, so I can’t make anything hot. There’s iced tea. Wine. Beer.”
“Wine.” She rested her head against the back of the sofa and closed her eyes while he carried the lantern into the kitchen. A moment later, he handed her a glass of wine, and she took several sips from it before placing it on the coffee table.
Setting the hurricane lantern next to her glass, Rory sat down near Daria on the sofa. He looked toward the boarded windows, which rattled in the wind.
“I have a feeling there’s still more to come,” he said.
“I wonder what part of the storm is over us now?”
“We’ve been spared, so far,” Daria said.
“Let’s hope it continues that way. Iwish Shelly weren’t right there on the sound, though.” She looked at Rory.
“Why have my sisters kept their lives secret from me?” she asked, hoping Rory didn’t hear the catch in her voice.
“I
thought I knew both of them so well. I thought I knew everything about them, that they loved me and trusted me and knew I’d be there for them, no matter what. I failed them somehow. And I feel. betrayed and hurt and just plain confused. “
Rory rested his arm across the back of the sofa and touched her shoulder with his fingertips.
“Well, Chloe could hardly tell anyone what was going on with her and Sean Macy,” he said.
“And Shelly…” He looked away from her, toward the dark ceiling, as if this was difficult for him to say.
“I remember you telling me that you were pleased she wasn’t involved with anyone. And you told me you put an end to a couple of relationships she’d had. So, I don’t think it’s surprising that she would keep this relationship from you.”
Daria lowered her head. She wasn’t certain what she would have done had she known about Shelly and Andy. While she didn’t think she would have tried to end their relationship, she no doubt would have intervened to make sure that Andy treated her sister well.
“I thought Shelly was content with her life,” she said.
“I thought she wanted nothing more than long walks on the beach and stringing shells for her necklaces.” How could she have wanted so little for her sister?
“I
thought I was giving her everything she needed. I didn’t know she needed more than what I could provide. I bet she was actually seeing Andy some of those times she told me she was out walking. “
“Well,” Rory said, “from the little I saw of them together tonight, it seems that Andy is taking good care of her.”
Images from the pier suddenly flashed into her mind:
