Betsy’s heart brimmed with emotion—a desire to both hug her sister and chastise her. Love her and punish her. But then Walsh flew down the steps with Addie close behind. Jenna bent down and held her arms out. The girls wrapped themselves around her, arms and legs like the sweet potato vine that grew up and over the garden fence.
Jenna laughed and kissed their cheeks, their foreheads, their noses. The girls talked nonstop, over and around each other so their words formed an unintelligible noise. While Jenna tried to take it all in, Betsy turned and walked to the end of the porch. She turned her eyes to the sky as if studying the clouds, but really she wanted to give them—their little three-person family—a moment of privacy. Or maybe it was she who needed the privacy.
After a moment, Jenna straightened. “Let me talk to Aunt Betsy for a minute, then I want y’all to show me everything.”
Jenna approached Betsy, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. When she reached the top step, Betsy hugged her. It felt better than she expected, both of them letting their shoulders relax and drop.
“You have impeccable timing, you know, driving here the day of a hurricane.” Betsy sat on the swing at the end of the porch, and Jenna sat next to her. The girls climbed onto Jenna’s lap and she pulled them close. The fast-moving rain band had already passed, though the winds were still strong and steady.
“I thought I’d get here hours ago, but so many people were on the roads. I knew the storm was out there, but Halcyon is pretty cut off. No TV, no newspapers. Terrible phone service, as you know. I just didn’t know it was so big or so close.” She pushed her curls out of her eyes. “Florida was okay, but the closer I got to Alabama, the crazier things got. I stopped to fill up and the first place had already run out of gas. I had to sit in line at the next station for twenty minutes.”
“I’m not surprised. The thing keeps moving around, so everyone from New Orleans to Florida is on edge. They’re thinking Mississippi now, but lots of folks have left already, just in case. You were probably the only person driving toward the storm.”
Jenna nodded and readjusted Walsh on her lap. “Highway Patrol stopped me as I was exiting I-10 to come here. They asked me where I was going and why, then strongly suggested I reconsider my destination. I promised them I would.”
Betsy gave a small laugh. “And they just let you go?”
“I told them I had two little girls waiting for me.” She turned to Betsy. “And my sister. I told them I understood the risks, but I was willing to take the chance.”
The next few hours were chaotic. Ty finished the last milking and blew in the back door as the winds intensified. “The cows are in the pasture and the men have all headed home. Nothing to do now but wait.”
Betsy helped Ty close and latch the shutters on the sides and back of the house while the girls flitted from one toy to the next, one lap to the next. Having woken up early and skipped their afternoon naps, they were keyed up on hyper energy and lack of sleep.
Jenna waffled between the weather reports on TV and trying to play every game the girls came up with—I Spy, hide-and-go-seek, and hopscotch. They brought her coloring books, crayons, and puzzles. It was as if they were trying to fit two months’ worth of playing into one frantic afternoon. Betsy and Ty stayed glued to the TV and the front windows as the rain bands lengthened and strengthened.
When the third NWS bulletin flashed at the bottom of the screen, issuing a piercing alarm and stern words, Ty stood and motioned for Betsy to follow him to the stairwell. He put his head close to hers. “Either we’re all sleeping on the floor, or we’ll have to bring mattresses downstairs. I don’t feel comfortable with us spending the night upstairs. Not with these old trees in the wind.”
Jenna took the girls upstairs to get ready for bed, and Ty and Betsy pulled a mattress and a few sleeping bags into the living room. They tucked the mattress against the wall below the stairwell, and Betsy piled it with blankets and pillows, hoping to make it look like a fun way for the kids to sleep and not a safety precaution.
As she tossed down the last pillow, Ty came up behind her. “How are you?” His hand was warm on her back.
“I’m good, I think. The flashlights are ready and we have plenty of extra batteries. We have candles too, if we need them.” She ticked the items off on her fingers. “While you were in the barn, I did as much as I could for the garden. And we’ll just have to hope for the best with the hens. I wish I’d been able to—”
Ty put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Bets, we’ve done all we can. I meant how are you?” His words were slow, deliberate.
She took a shaky breath and let it out. “I’ll be fine. I just want to get past tonight, then we’ll be able to see a little clearer. This all makes me nervous.” She waved her hands around, as if to encompass the storm, the house, and the people in it.
He kissed her forehead as hard rain pelted the windows. “I know. I’m anxious to see what tomorrow will bring.” He pulled her close and rested his chin on her head. “And whatever it is, you and I will be okay.”
She turned her face up to him. “I know.”
