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Authors: Terri DuLong

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BOOK: Postcards from Cedar Key
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16
J
une first is the official start of hurricane season in Florida. I noticed that much of the talk on the island during that month involved debates on the predictions from meteorologists. Overall, everybody agreed that Cedar Key had a fifty-fifty chance of being hit until the season officially ended on December first. With this fact generally accepted, it was forgotten and conversation in the coffee café, post office, library, and other gathering spots shifted to the economy, politics, local gossip, and fishing.
Just when I didn't think I'd hear from my aunt I received a phone call from her in mid-June.
“Berkley, I'm so sorry not to get back to you sooner,” she told me. “I was all booked and confirmed to come visit you next week, but I'm afraid I've had an accident.”
My annoyance was replaced with concern. “Oh, no. Are you okay?”
Stella Baldwin laughed across the line. “Well, I guess that depends. You'd think at sixty-eight, I'd have more sense. I signed up for salsa dance classes. The first two went really well. By the way, those male instructors are pretty hot. Anyway, I was wearing my fancy pair of those really high, strappy heels and, well . . . I . . . slipped and took a tumble.”
I was beginning to see that there was more to Stella Baldwin than I was aware of. Salsa dancing? Stiletto heels?
“And unfortunately, I ended up in the hospital with a broken leg. I'll be in a cast for the next eight weeks or so.”
My hand flew to my face. “Oh, my goodness. I'm so sorry to hear this. Are you still in the hospital?”
“No, I'm now in a rehab facility for a while. I think I'll be going home by next week, but then I'm afraid I'm facing some physical therapy when the cast is removed.”
So much for finding answers about my mother,
I thought, and then felt guilty for only thinking of myself.
“Is there anything that I can do? Maybe I should come up there?”
My aunt's laugh came across the line again. “As much as I'd love to see you, no, no. That's not necessary. There's truly nothing that you could do. I've already hired a companion to be with me constantly when I go home. I just feel terrible, though, about having to cancel my trip to Cedar Key. But I'm hoping you'll allow me to come in October or November, when I should be back on my feet again. Literally.”
“Oh, of course. Any time would be fine. I hope you're not in too much pain.”
“No, the pain is minimal, so that's a plus. It's just darn annoying knowing my social calendar has gone down the drain. Although the bridge club assures me that we'll meet at my place while I'm laid up. But no golf for me, and my daily exercise class is out of the question. My book club said we could meet at my house also, so that was nice of them. But I guess this is the end of my salsa dancing days, I'm afraid.”
I shook my head and smiled. Bridge? Golf? Book club? This aunt of mine was a social butterfly and had a social agenda that put me to shame.
“Well, give me your address and I have your home phone. You probably don't go on the Internet; otherwise, we could also exchange e-mail addresses.”
“Oh, but of course I go on the Internet. I'm very involved in quite a few chat rooms. Actually, I've met a few gentleman friends via those chat rooms.”
Yup, Aunt Stella was a definite surprise to me. I didn't dare ask if she'd actually met them in person. We exchanged information with the promise to keep in touch. Hanging up the phone, I was hit with the thought of how very different my mother and my aunt were. My mother had always isolated herself from both people and events. My aunt sounded like somebody who stayed constantly active. Even a broken leg didn't seem to faze her very much—except for the limits it now put on her socializing. I smiled as I jotted a note to call a florist the following week and have flowers delivered to my aunt's home.
 
The hot and humid days of June and July morphed into August, when the mornings and evenings showed promise of the cooler air to come.
Saxton and I were spending most of our free time together with dinners, day trips into Gainesville, a movie in Crystal River at the mall, and always enjoying each other's company.
I was just settling down to get some spinning done for recent orders I'd received when the phone rang.
“What're you doing?” Saxton questioned.
“I was just about to start some spinning. Why?”
“Well, put the spinning aside. Let's drive over to Manatee State Park and take a dip in the springs.”
I laughed. “Oh, I can't. I'd like to, but I can't.”
“And why not?”
“Well . . . uh . . . I have to get this spinning done. Then I have to vacuum and do a bit of cleaning. And I really should get some more knitting done on the Christmas gifts I'm working on. I also . . .”
Saxton interrupted me. “You don't
have
to do any of those things. What you
need
to do is be more spontaneous. It's a gorgeous day. I've packed us a picnic lunch, and you need to take advantage of the moment. Lighten up, Berkley. Come with me and Lola.”
I recalled how he'd once referred to me as rigid, and felt annoyed. I didn't think it was being
rigid
because I had a schedule. And I kept to that schedule.
Silence filled the line as he waited for my answer, and my annoyance gave way to concern. Was I being inflexible? Did it really matter if I cleaned today or tomorrow? I knew I had plenty of time to fulfill the orders and get my knitting done.
“Well . . .” I said, and cleared my throat. “I suppose . . . I suppose I could go.”
Without hesitation, Saxton said, “Great. Be out in front of your shop. I'll pick you up at twelve noon.” And with that, he hung up.
I placed the phone on the table and glanced over at my mother's urn. Had she ever once been spontaneous in her life? I always thought she had been when she took off for that summer—but the more I thought about it, the more I began to wonder if perhaps she had been forced to leave Salem. For whatever reason.
 
Sitting at the picnic table, I looked up as Saxton took a bite from the chicken salad sandwich he'd prepared. The summer sun was producing a golden bronze to his skin, making him look even more handsome.
“After we eat, we can go back in the water, if you want,” he said.
I smiled. “That was fun. The water is so nice.” Not to mention that I'd felt like a kid again, swimming, getting splashed by Saxton, like I didn't have a care in the world. He had been right. I did
need
to come here with him. I looked up at the huge leafy trees providing shade above us and let out a deep sigh.
“Happy?” he asked.
Happy? I'm not sure I've ever given that emotion much thought. I had always gone through my life, day to day, with the usual ups and downs. But thinking about this day, from the moment Saxton had picked me up, I realized that yes, I did feel happy. And happy was something that I always seemed to feel when I was with him.
“I am,” I told him. “I am sincerely happy, so thank you for forcing me to come with you.”
He laughed. “Oh, don't say that. I'd like to think you came because you wanted to.”
“I did, but you gave me the push that I needed. So thank you. It's beautiful here, isn't it?” I looked around at the trees, picnic tables, and the walkway surrounding the springs. On a Tuesday, there were only a handful of people around.
“Yeah, I love it here, being outdoors. As a matter of fact . . . I'm planning a trip to the Georgia Mountains in the fall.”
I felt my heart drop. He was going away? Momentarily, all of the old feelings of loss and abandonment came over me. “Oh,” was all I could manage to say.
“Ever been there?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, never have.”
He smiled. “Good. I thought you might want to join me, and I could introduce you to that area.”
He was asking me to go with him?
When I remained silent, he said, “I'll rent a two-bedroom cabin, so you'll have your own space.”
I was taken completely by surprise, both by the fact that he wanted me to go with him and that he offered to get two bedrooms. Since our relationship hadn't progressed beyond some very heated kisses, I guess that did make sense.
“That sounds great. When are you going?”
“I was thinking early to mid-October. Are you free?”
I nodded. “I think so. Oh, I was planning to get up to Maine to visit my alpacas in the fall. But . . . maybe I could postpone that trip. And I really should be here for Seafood Festival weekend. That's a busy time for merchants on the island.”
“Okay, that's being held the third weekend, so we could go the week before for about four or five days.”
My happiness suddenly jumped a few notches and I felt my face break out in a huge smile. “That would be great, Saxton. I'm really looking forward to it.”
“Great,” he said, standing up and reaching for my hand. “Let's get this stuff back in the car and walk around a bit with Lola.”
We spent the rest of the afternoon walking around, talking and taking a final dip in the springs before heading back to Cedar Key.
As Saxton approached the Number Four bridge, I looked out the window at the sun beginning to set in the western sky. Pelicans dipped and soared. The water shimmered as boats bobbed here and there. There was something special about this place. My mother came to mind, and I wondered if after coming here she had found what she might have been looking for. But actually, I still wasn't sure if Jeanette Whitmore was going
toward
something or
away
from it.
17
W
ith Labor Day weekend approaching, the talk all week had been about a hurricane churning in the southern Gulf. It was the main topic of conversation wherever I went. Some experts predicted this one would be a direct hit on Cedar Key. Emergency Management went into increased preparation, advising people to have an evacuation plan and supplies.
When I opened my shop on Wednesday morning, the sun was shining, temps were in the high eighties, and any sign of a hurricane was nonexistent.
I looked up as Mr. Carl walked in. “Well, I think we're gonna be spared again,” he said.
I wondered if he had a direct line to Mother Nature.
“You think so?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yup. Oh, I'm not saying we won't get our share of wind and rain. But a direct hit? Nope. I think they're wrong.”
“I sure hope so.”
“You're all prepared though, right?”
“No, not really.”
Mr. Carl shook a finger in my direction. “Oh, now, just because we probably won't get it doesn't mean you don't have to take precautions. Do you know how we're alerted if we have a mandatory evacuation of the island?”
I had no idea and shook my head.
“A three-minute siren blast. We have three outdoor community warning sirens. These were donated to the city, ya know, by Progress Energy through Levy County Emergency Management. So if you hear that blast, you have to already have a plan in place as to where you're going.”
This was starting to sound serious. “Are there shelters off island?”
He nodded. “Yeah, there are, but don't you have a cat? You can't take your pets. The shelters are in Chiefland, Bronson, and Williston, at the schools. But no pets allowed. Your best bet is to book one of the pet friendly hotels in Gainesville.”
I knew Mr. Carl meant well, but he was beginning to make me nervous. I looked up to see Saxton walk in and felt a sense of relief.
“I'm trying to instruct this here young lady on hurricane precautions.”
“I just heard the latest update. Seems she's stalled pretty south of here. But we'll have to stay tuned to the weather forecasts and see what happens.”
“You can't take pets to the shelter,” I told him, even though I figured Saxton was most likely aware of this.
He nodded. “Right. There's hotels in Gainesville, but it probably won't come to that. Listen, I'm heading into Chiefland to Wal-mart. I need to stock up on supplies. Do you need some things?”
Born and raised in New England, I knew hurricanes were something that paid very sporadic visits to that area. But this was Florida and a whole different story.
“I have some candles,” I said, knowing that was far from sufficient.
Saxton shot me a smile and nodded. “Okay. Don't worry. I'll handle it. I'll be back later this afternoon.”
 
Just as I was preparing to close the shop at five, Saxton walked in.
“I'm back,” he said. “I have the golf cart loaded down with supplies for you. Maybe you could give me a hand unloading?”
“Sure. I was just about to lock up.”
When I followed him around the corner and saw his golf cart, I gasped.
“What on earth are all those bags?”
He laughed. “Everything you'll need to survive a hurricane. Come on,” he said, placing a few bags in my hand. “We'll get everything upstairs.”
It took us two trips to unload. I stood gazing at my kitchen table and floor and shook my head. “Don't you think you went a bit overboard with the shopping?”
Saxton began removing items. “Not at all. Here,” he said, passing me a package containing a flashlight. “And here's batteries to go with it. Did you have a flashlight?”
“Hmm, no. Thank you.”
I proceeded to rummage through the bags to find more candles, matches, a case of bottled water, canned soups, crackers, chips, canned tuna, and an assortment of other food that required no cooking.
“I really appreciate this,” I said. “But I don't eat canned tuna or some of these other items.”
“You will if we lose power and you're hungry enough. I've stocked up on charcoal too. I have a gas grill and just refilled my propane tank, so if we're without power too long I can fix us a steak or something.”
Us? Was he planning to ride out this hurricane with me?
“Was there anything you didn't think of?” I asked, marveling at his shopping ability.
“I hope not. I heard the latest update on the car radio. They've increased Kara to a category two, but she's still down by Naples, doing minimal damage. Mostly high winds and heavy rain.”
“Well, guess I should get this stuff put away,” I said, reaching for some canned items.
“I'll give you a hand, and then maybe you'll join me for a glass of wine at the Black Dog and dinner at the Pickled Pelican?”
“Sounds like a plan. Thanks.”
Thursday morning brought cloudiness to the island and a gentle breeze. But coming around the corner to Second Street I looked around, and except for a few locals here and there, Cedar Key was exceptionally quiet. I decided to postpone opening the shop and headed across the street to the coffee café.
“Hey,” Suellen said. “All set to hunker down for Kara?”
“With Saxton's help, yeah. I'll have a latte.”
“Well, everyone's getting their ducks in a row. We're going to close the coffee shop and bookshop early and start putting sandbags out front, just in case we get some flooding. You might want to do the same. Lucas has plenty of extra sandbags in the back if you need some.”
I was definitely a novice with this hurricane stuff. “Oh, gosh, I never even thought of my shop. I'll take you up on your offer. I may as well close early too. I doubt there'll be much business today.”
We both looked up as Chloe walked in and joined us.
“Hey,” she said. “Whew . . . just finished getting the sandbags in front of the yarn shop. Dora and I decided to not open today. By the way, she's going to Gainesville to stay with her daughter.”
“That's a good idea,” Suellen said. “Her house is pretty close to the water on Andrews Circle.”
“Are you staying at your places?” Chloe looked at both of us. “And could I have my usual coffee when you get a chance?”
“Sure,” Suellen said, heading behind the counter. “Yeah, my house isn't on the water. I think I'll be okay. How about you?”
“I'm going to go over and stay with Aunt Maude. With Grace and Lucas away, she has Annie and Duncan there with her and could probably use my help with the dogs.”
“Oh, that's good.” Suellen placed a mug of coffee in front of Chloe. “Not to mention the company. I'm sure Maude will appreciate you being there. How about you, Berkley? Will you be staying in your apartment?”
“Yeah, Saxton made sure I have everything in the way of supplies, so I guess I'll be okay.”
“His house is right on the water too. Even though it's on stilts, he could still get some damage.”
“Oh, really?” I said, and looked up to see both of them staring at me. “What?”
“Well, everyone kind of looks out for everyone else here when a storm is coming.” Chloe took a sip of her coffee. “It might be nice to invite Saxton to stay at your place. You're on the second floor and should be okay there.”
Invite Saxton to spend the night at my house?
“Oh . . . I . . . ah . . . never thought of that,” I stammered.
Suellen laughed. “You're a grown woman. It just might be a neighborly thing to do.”
“True,” I said, taking the last gulp of my coffee. “Well, guess I'll go open the shop for a few hours for my regulars. Will you still be here around three? I'll come back and get those sandbags.”
“Yeah, Corabeth and I decided to close around three, so I'll see you then.”
I walked outside and was surprised to see a television crew setting up with cameras and a reporter with mic in hand. The van parked across the street told me it was CNN news. Good Lord, did they think Cedar Key was going to be swept away with this hurricane? I nodded to the reporter and headed to unlock my shop.
Shortly after opening, the male reporter I'd seen outside came in.
“Hey,” he said, in that overly friendly anchorperson manner. “I'm Steve and I'm with CNN. I wonder if I could interview you?”
I had never been overly fond of the media. I understood it was their job to cover newsworthy events, but I also felt that many times they went overboard and trespassed into people's personal lives.
“I seriously doubt I'd have anything very important to say,” I told him.
He laughed and gave a shrug of his shoulders. “Well, I'm just wondering if you're planning to stay on the island or evacuate.”
“Gee, I must have missed the siren blast,” I said, annoyance creeping into my tone. “I'm not aware that we're under a mandatory evacuation. It isn't even raining out.”
I must have hit a chord because Steve now had a sheepish expression on his face. “Oh, no . . . I didn't mean that it was mandatory. I just wondered if you were planning to leave.”
“Well, I'm not sure if you've ever been to this town before. But we're pretty resilient people here. I'm not from here originally, but that resilience seems to rub off on you. So no, I'm not planning to leave—unless we're forced to.”
“Right. I was also wondering if you knew the bookshop owner.”
“Lucas? Yes, I know him. Why?”
“Lucas?” he said, and I saw confusion cover his face. “Oh, I thought the woman in there was the owner.”
“No, that's Corabeth Williams. She's in charge while Lucas is away till next month.”
“Oh, I see.” He began inching his way toward the door. “Okay, I guess I was mistaken. Thanks,” he said, and walked out.
I shook my head. What was that all about?
BOOK: Postcards from Cedar Key
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