The chaos of the flooding office seemed to swallow her efforts whole, rendering them ineffective. Lucan, far from being soothed, escalated his cries, his small body writhing in frustration. The water continued its relentless spread, indifferent to the human drama unfolding.
Feeling her attempt to quiet Lucan flounder, Reva’s heart sank. She glanced around, seeking a lifeline in the eyes of her staff, only to find them equally overwhelmed, their actions disjointed in the face of the disaster. The sense of failure weighed heavily on her, not just in her inability to comfort Lucan but also in her responsibility as the leader who was supposed to guide her team through crises.
Her voice faltered and finally fell silent, drowned out by the cacophony of the water’s rush and Lucan’s inconsolable crying.
Likewise, the flood continued its destructive path. Her iPad cord was now underwater, important documents turned into papier-mâché, and the heritage furniture that once adorned the mayor’s office began to warp and swell.
The floodwaters, together with Lucan’s loud cries, were indifferent to her good intentions and laid bare the limits of her control.
The lesson was clear, though harsh—not all battles could be won with determination and a song.
19
“Hey, thanks for agreeing to meet at my house tonight,” Reva told her girlfriends as she placed a large tray of finger sandwiches on the coffee table.
Charlie Grace carried a large pitcher of strawberry daiquiris into the living room. “You’ve had quite the few days. It’s to be expected, with the major life change you just made,” she remarked while filling the waiting stemmed glasses, skipping Reva’s which was already brimming with her virgin mocktail. “And planning the funeral had to be a drain on your emotions.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Reva told her. “You will not believe the day I’ve had. It’s like something out of a disaster movie.”
Lila leaned forward with curiosity. “Oh? What happened? Was it Bill Buckley from accounting again?”
Charlie Grace shook her head with a grin. “Please tell me he finally wore matching socks.”
Reva sighed and leaned back against the plush chair cushion. “I wish it were that amusing. But it’s much worse. Our office flooded. And I mean, seriously flooded.”
Capri’s eyes widened. “Flooded? How did that happen?”
Reva kicked off her shoes. “It turns out the building’s old pipes finally gave out. Water everywhere—carpets, equipment, files. You name it.”
“Oh, no!” Lila’s voice was filled with sympathy. “That sounds like a nightmare. What did you do?”
Reva was quick to answer. “Well, at first, I just stood there, watching my desk become an island. I mean, there were literal waves every time someone walked through the water.”
Charlie Grace broke into laughter. “I’m sorry to make light of this, but I’m picturing you surfing on your office chair.”
Reva smiled despite the situation. “Honestly, at one point, that seemed like a viable option. But then, panic mode kicked in. We had to salvage what we could.”
Capri reached for a sandwich. “Was anything important ruined?”
“Thankfully, most of our crucial documents are backed up digitally,” Reva told them. “But some of the physical files weren’t so lucky. And our poor office plants drowned.”
Lila’s hand went to her chest in mock despair. “Not the plants! Were you able to save any?”
“A few.” Reva took a sip from her glass. She smiled. “But let’s have a moment of silence for the fern I’ve somehow kept alive for three years. It doesn’t look like it’ll survive the flood.”
Charlie Grace grinned and held up her cocktail glass in a toast. “Here’s to the great fern catastrophe. We’ll remember you fondly.”
“Well, if you need any help with replacing water valves, tell the guys to just give me a call. I helped fix Betty Dunning’s kitchen sink last week. Her P-trap was cracked and leaking. Made the kitchen smell like rotten eggs.” Capri raised the sandwich to inspect the egg salad nestled between the slices of bread.
“So, what’s the plan now?” she asked casually, shrugging before taking a bite. “Are you going to work from home?” Her words were muffled by her chewing.
Reva passed her friend a napkin, a smile playing on her lips. “Seems so. The office is closed for repairs for the next couple of weeks. Which means…pajama workdays!”
Charlie Grace rolled her eyes. “As if you’d actually work in your PJs.”
Reva paused, a thoughtful expression crossing her face as she tilted her head slightly, directing her ear towards the staircase. “Do you hear that?” she asked.
All three of the women on her sofa shook their heads.
