Trapped with the Blizzard (31 page)

Walt sat back and patted my knee. “Exactly. You treat her like a child, you get a child. You expect her to act like an adult, and she will… eventually.”

I spotted Bryan on the opposite side of the room. His stature and the red headlamp gave him away. Our lodge had transformed into a dark, damp, cold refugee camp. Every time he helped someone out, another problem would come up. And another, and another.
He has such a good way with people,
I thought.

“Bryan connects with her,” I said almost to myself.

“Don’t doubt that,” Walt grumbled in return.

“We’re trying for another baby,” I blurted.

“That’s a fine idea. Make sure Jacky doesn’t grow up to be a spoiled only child.”

“I’m an only child.”

“Exactly.”

I snorted a laugh. “Seriously, though. How selfish is it to bring a baby into this family? I feel responsible enough putting Jack through all this and he won’t remember a thing.”

“You two love with all your hearts, everyone can see that. Heck, you’re parenting the hell out of this whole town. Any child would be lucky to be called Marsh.”

The sentiment nearly brought me to tears again. “Thank you. Love you, too, old man,” I said as I stood. I gave him a one-armed hug and left him alone on the sofa. With the lights out entirely, the room was dimly lit by the low light of the fires and a smattering of flashlights. With Jack in my arms, I made my way over to Bryan. I didn’t even need a light to see how exhausted he was.

“Hey sweetheart, what’s going on?” he asked with relief. “I didn’t know where you went off to.” Bryan hooked his arm around Jack and pulled me close with the other.

My little family.
“Just getting a little pep talk from the grumpiest person in the room,” I chuckled. “I’m kidnapping you,” I said as I pulled him to the center of the room.

Bryan resisted a little. “No, I need to…”

“You need to sleep. You’ve been awake and running around longer than is healthy. You won’t be able to help anyone if you don’t at least get a couple hours.”

I could feel him relax, almost as if he’d been waiting for permission to give into the weariness. I led him back to our little spot on the floor, now smaller with more people encroaching on our space. We lay down with Jack between us and pulled the blankets up. I wondered where Dani had gone off to but pushed the thought away…

I’m sure she’s watching over Miah. Best to leave her alone for now…
was my last thought before drifting off to sleep.

Every gust of wind made me wince. The whistling, howling sound of it whipping around the lodge was never-ending. Bundled and wrapped in as many layers as we could manage, we waited for it to all be over. No one could sleep. Well, no one except Walt who was snoring away without a care in the world.

Bryan lay beside me, his eyes closed and peaceful, but I could tell by his breathing he was wide awake. Jack nestled in between us, a perfect little angel considering how chaotic the past few days had been.

I’d stopped checking the clock. Dawn was never going to come as long as I watched the minutes tick by. So I had no idea what time it was when the ceiling collapsed in the hallway. We all jumped at a loud crash followed by the unmistakable sound of glass shattering across the floor. A few screams echoed across the hall before the room went silent again.

I glanced down to Bryan who hadn’t even opened his eyes. “What now?” he asked wearily. With a groan, he rolled to his side and climbed to his feet like a zombie. After placing Jack in Walt’s arms, I followed him to the hall.
Having a newborn is at least good training for sleep deprivation,
I thought as I stumbled behind.

A pile of debris scattered across the floor: wood, glass, snow. A gaping hole in the ceiling exposed us to the raging storm above and for the first time, I realized we should’ve been thinking about it all piling up on the roof. Fifteen feet of heavy, wet snow weighing down.

“Oh shit, Bryan,” I said as I grabbed his arm. “Is this whole place going to come down on us?”

Chris approached from the opposite side of the hallway, from the direction of the rental area. The three of us surveyed the damage while a stream of onlookers steadily piled in behind us. They’d expected mayhem; maybe a thrown brick, or a Molotov cocktail. When they found a hole and a bunch of snow on the ground, they were thankful for the mundane danger…
not the arsonist
. They could handle anything but the arsonist. This was typical deadly blizzard stuff Liz and Bryan could take care of.

“The roof is sloped at a pretty steep angle. This spot here was flat, wasn’t it?”

I shrugged, trying to pull up a hazy memory of the exterior. “I have no idea.”

“There’s nothing we can do to clean this up,” Bryan said with a shake of his head. We watched as Chris toed his way through the broken glass towards us.

“I can try to put a tarp up if you want, boss. It’ll at least stop the snow from coming in.”

Weary doesn’t begin to describe how I felt about every knock down we took. I had hit a state of numb acceptance. Santa fucking Claus himself could’ve crashed through the front door with all his crappy reindeer and I would’ve just rolled with it, no questions asked.

“We’ll have a foot of snow in here by… wait a second. Are there other places on the roof that are…”

Chris jumped in, like an overeager kid with an idea. I normally hated it when people cut in while I was talking, but I was too tired to say anything. “Boss, sorry to interrupt but…” He looked between us apologetically before continuing. “I was thinking. With the power out now and the winds picking up, and now with the busted up roof...” He wrung his hands together while he shifted back and forth on his feet.

“Go on, finish your thought,” Bryan urged.

“I was thinking maybe it would be a good idea to get everyone all in the Great Hall for the rest of the storm. We can conserve the wood by heating the one room and…”

Bryan was already nodding. “The extra body heat will keep us warm, too. That’s a good idea. Why don’t you spread the word and Liz and I can help move people around again.”

“There’s one more thing,” he said, his gaze shifty between us. “I found these old curtains down in one of the storage rooms, probably something from before the place was remodeled. They’re still a little wet, but I think if we put ‘em up, it’ll cut down on the drafts.”

“Every little bit helps,” I agreed. “Get a few of the others to help you put them up as soon as we can. People aren’t going to like us blocking out the daylight come tomorrow morning, but once the winds pick up, we’ll be glad to have the extra heat.”

December 25th

Liz was acting like the queen of Tellure Hollow again, strutting around, telling people what to do as if we’d ceased living in a free society. As if we hadn’t sacrificed enough already, she was demanding we all squeeze in further so every person scattered across the lodge could fit inside the Great Hall. We were already practically sitting in each other’s laps. As news of this spread, there were a few grumbles, but most seemed to understand the logic of it.

Miah and I leaned against the wall, a blanket wrapped around our shoulders, sharing a pair of ear buds. We held hands but didn’t speak, listened to his music, and tried not to exist in this moment. But I couldn’t stop watching Liz prance about, throwing out commands like edicts.

“She fucking loves it,” I muttered as I squinted at her. “How can no one else see it?”

Miah pulled the ear bud away. “Why do you hate her so much?”

Even in my own head, I railed against the word. Hate. “I don’t
hate
her so much as dislike everything about her, her actions, and most everything she stands for.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, something I’d learned meant he was trying not to laugh. “Sounds like hate to me.”

Just then, a scuffle broke out at the far side of the room close to the kitchen. Liz had her hands up as she tried to calm a group of people down. “Looks like I’m not the only one.”

A chorus of shouts rang out, pulling more and more attention. “You can’t do this!”

“As if being trapped in here isn’t bad enough!”

We both sat straighter, trying to see what the fuss was about. I spotted that weird maintenance man climbing a ladder while hoisting up a heavy red curtain. That’s what the old women were complaining about.

I watched as Liz tried to reason with them, but the mood of the room had shifted. I could feel the crowd turning against her. We were trapped animals, the inklings of cabin fever threading into our psyches like an infection. The space already felt small and now she was cramming us together in small quarters. On top of it, she was literally blotting out the sun, the last ray of hope they had left to cling to. We were all waiting for those few beams of sunlight come dawn, the sign that we’d made it through the hardest part.

“This is about survival now. We don’t have heat or power…” she explained before some old bitch cut her off.

“Really? Well thank God you were here to tell me that. Here I thought I was spending Christmas on the flippin’ French Riviera.” She smirked at her own crappy sarcasm.

Hate.
With that word still ringing in my ears, I quickly scanned the area and found no trace of Bryan or Walt.

When my dad was hurt, I lost my innocence. I was no longer a naïve, fearless child, supremely and stupidly confident in the rights and wrongs of the world. But it wasn’t until I saw Liz fending off an entire town of angry people that I took my first real step into adulthood.

I realized she didn’t have all the answers. No one did. A magical manual didn’t appear on your birthday explaining the ins and outs of being an adult. Everyone did the best they could… just like me. I realized the pressure and hatred and anger I’d pinned on her, my mother, even my father, all came from the idea that they should’ve known better. They were the adults after all. I was just the kid… In one shitty moment, at the peak of the most stressful time in my life, it all clicked. And that sucked. Compassion and the bitter rage I’d cultivated for so long mixed like oil and water, but there it was anyway.

“Shit,” I hissed as the realization deepened. I think my heart-to-heart with Miah had softened me. At least, that’s what I blamed my sudden burst of empathy on. “I’ll go help her.” Miah grabbed my sleeve as I stood. Even though I protested, he insisted on coming along. As we drew closer, she continued to plead with them.

Liz’s eyes darted to mine as we came alongside. She studied my face as if wondering which side of this fight we were going to land on. “Dorothy, please. We need to conserve as much heat as possible. I want to see the sunlight as much as you, but it’s best for everyone if…”

“I don’t give two flying hoots about everyone else. This is imprisonment. You’ve locked us in here and now you’re throwing away the key.” She was growing spitting mad. I was surprised to see Liz almost calmly take it, the muscles in her jaw working as she fought to keep it shut. So I jumped in instead.

“Whoa, lady, calm yourself. Your dentures are about to catch fire if you keep going on that fast,” I said, putting a hand up. You could almost feel the air leave the room as I spoke. It was a sensation I lived for and for once, I could use it for the power of good.

Dorothy stammered a few times, her yellowed eyes wide with shock. “You, my… you’re the little wretch who nearly upchucked on me.”