“See there?” I gasped. The storm’s power had surprised me as much as it did the others. “Even with a few extra pounds that wind is strong enough to knock you off your feet. Stay put, please.”
“Click your trunk button again, Maggie,” Sybil said, slipping back into her jacket. “I’ll go with you, Retta. I think all that’s left is my bag and Maggie’s anyway.”
“Wrigley’s kennel is there, too, along with the tote containing his bowl and food,” Carly informed us. “Oh, let me go with you. I hate to be such a bother.”
“You just stick close to Little Mama,” Sybil replied. “We’ve got this.”
What Carly did was to stay by the door to open it the moment Sybil and I made it back to the porch. “The next trip to bring in wood is on me,” she assured me.
“Brownnoser,” Maggie muttered from the kitchen doorway, glass in hand.
Pretending that I hadn’t heard the uncalled for comment, I handed over the bag to the young blonde. “I appreciate that. So far, though, it’s all under control. Dana, dear, I think you would be more comfortable sleeping on the couch here on the first floor. That way, you don’t have the challenge of climbing stairs. Actually, the couch converts into a bed and will put you close to the fireplace.” Pointing to the right corner of the room, I said, “Another plus is that the bathroom is convenient. It opens on the other side directly to the mud-laundry room.”
“You’ve really put a great deal of thought into this, Retta. Thanks.”
“Believe me, it’s my pleasure. I love that you’re here. Between you needing to give up being the church pianist, and me trying to keep my head above water here, we’ve barely had a chance to visit.” I turned to my youngest guest. “Carly, would you like to take the kennel upstairs to the first bedroom on your right? I suspect Wrigley will prefer to stay close to you during the night.”
Her expression suggested that she would rather face the lightning and freezing temperatures. “Couldn’t I stay down here with you?” she asked Dana. “Would you mind?”
“I’d love it. That way I won’t feel like I’m missing all the pajama-party fun.”
Their arrangement made better sense to me, too, and I nodded my approval. If Dana had any health problem arise, I was relieved that someone would be near. “Great. And Rosie will be upstairs standing guard over us old hens, so you don’t have to worry about her. I’ll just put the kennel next to your case, Carly, and you can decide where you want it.”
After Sybil and I hung up our jackets again, I said to Sybil and Maggie, “Come on you two. Sacrifice the glass for a minute, Mags, and help me with your bags. I swear, did you pack the family jewels along with half of your wardrobe, or is all this extra weight your a.m. and p.m. beauty regimen?”
“Hilarious. No, smarty, it’s my good jewelry. What’s the use of an alarm system if there’s no power? The larger suitcase is packed with my coats and boots. Shoes and slippers, as well, I guess. I didn’t want to end up with cold, wet feet.” She gave Sybil a mischievous grin. “If you’re nice to me, I’ll share my footwear.”
Looking from Maggie’s feet to her own, Sybil remained unimpressed. “Baby, in case you haven’t noticed, my clodhoppers are the size of a basketball player’s, so it’ll have to be one of your furs or nothing.”
Halfway up the stairs, Sybil’s phone erupted with the sound of the ’60s rock band The Troggs blasting their classic, Wild Thing. Maggie and I burst into laughter, which had us grappling not to lose our grip on the luggage. It was virtually impossible to merge the idea of such a song with sensible Sybil. Giggles from the younger two floated up from the main floor, too.
Muttering under her breath, Sybil reached into her pants pocket. “You don’t know the half of it,” she muttered. “Hang on. I have to take this. It’s Debra—also known as my youngest child. She’s the one who is going to have me lying beside Elvin before my next birthday if she keeps driving her mother crazy with worry. No telling when or if she’ll check back in again.”
She swiped her finger across the screen of her cell phone and soon began what to the rest of us was a fascinating one-sided conversation. There was never any question about giving her privacy. We were having too much fun.
“Of course, I’m okay. Tell me how you’re doing, since you got this mess first. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Oh, Debra. Don’t change the subject. I’m with a few neighbor-friends at Retta Cole’s farm where we will have heat and hot water, as well as a propane stove to cook on. What’s that noise? You’re doing what? Okay, I understand they cancelled classes, but you shouldn’t be partying, you should be studying or looking into doing something for extra credit, since you almost flunked your last test. Well, hallelujah, you’re staying off the roads, but Debra. Debra. You know my mantra. Make wise choices. Wait! Don’t hang up! Keep your cell phone charged. Well, if I’m sounding like a broken record, it’s because you never listen. Besides, I want to be able to stay in touch.”
After a short silence, Sybil reared back her head, only to glare at the phone in her hand. “Well. Goodbye. I love you, too.”
With a sigh, she glanced down at us. “This is why I wanted her to commute to a college nearer to home. That girl has developed an annoying habit of disconnecting in the middle of our conversations.”
“Sybil,” I crooned. “Take it from an expert, if the oldest child didn’t succeed in making you believe in hair color products, the youngest will.”
“You know full well that it was Elvin who gave me my first grays,” she replied, finally smiling. “And I haven’t been without an extra box of L’Oréal in Leather Black ever since.” With a sideways tip of her head toward me, she asked Maggie, “Did she really have the nerve to say that to me with her Norman Rockwell family? My wild child is having a party at Tech because, although the worst of the storm has pushed east of them, the frigid temperatures are promising to keep the campus closed for several more days. Is it asking too much to just get that child some credentials and gainfully employed?”
We all knew she was referring to Texas Tech University at Lubbock where Debra was attending college. During our last visit, Sybil was fretting over Debra wavering on the decision to pursue a teaching degree, but I reminded her that the girl was only a freshman taking basic courses, and there was still time to explore options if she continued to have any doubts about her future.
Maggie waved away Sybil’s concerns and went back to dragging her suitcase upstairs. “Retta’s right. You worry too much. She’s a good kid. Debra is just having a little fun like the rest of us did when we finally got beyond the city limits of Martin’s Mill for the first time, instead of acting tied to our parents like horses tethered to a hitching post with a simple loop of the reins. She’ll be fine.”
Unable to resist, I teased, “Words of wisdom sanctioned by the woman who recently almost crashed the Division of Motor Vehicles computer system for having too many last names.” It was good to feel that at least among the three of us, things were on a safer plane again.
After snickering, Sybil asked, “Retta, I know I don’t even have to ask if you’ve heard from your kids?”
“Bless them. You are right. This storm won’t affect Jamie much in Houston, except for a deeper plunge in temperatures than they anticipated, but it will probably hit Rachel in Virginia in a couple of days, as badly or worse than anything we’ll get. Nevertheless, they keep tabs on me as though I’m a week away from needing to move to a senior living facility.”
Once again, the lights dimmed. I also heard a suspicious pinging sound against the window up on the landing. Glancing outside, I saw the heavy downpour of snow was now mixing with sleet. I could barely see the stables. At the rate it was coming down, the precipitation would quickly pile up on roofs and trees. It was yet another reminder that there would be continuous work to be done to keep access into buildings, and to avoid areas where the weight of frozen matter could prove dangerous.