Page 64 of Tastes Like Summer

But she isn’t okay. I know she isn’t.

Maybe on a normal day Diana could’ve handled this easily with her hands tied behind her back, but something’s up. Something that goes deeper than just a fear of taking on a sudden summer storm on her own.

I look out the window at the purple-blue skies and gray clouds hammering rain down over us and debate what to do. There’s not a doubt in my mind that Diana can handle herself in a crisis, but something in the tone of her voice set off alarm bells in my head.

She said she didn’t do well with storms.

I swipe through the weather app and, according to the radar, see I have about an hour and a half of okay driving time before things start to get really bad.

“Rach?” I ask, pulling her attention away from her tablet (educational games only). “You up for a road trip?”

If my daughter weren’t in the car, I probably would’ve made it to Diana’s in under ten minutes. But because I want to be safe, I make sure not to speed, to be even more aware of my surroundings as the trees sway wildly from the ever-growing force of the winds. I know there’s danger in going out during this weather, but my gut is telling me Diana and her girls are in even more danger. And that they’re more scared than they would be at my place.

When I finally make it to her house, the wheels on my truck splash in her driveway, the usually pristine, light gray gravel already covered in mud.

I turn in my seat to face Rachel. “Kid. Normally, I’d say we’d have to make a run for it. But the last thing I want is for you to slip, so you’re going to get wet. That okay? It’s that or leave you alone in the truck, and that’s just not going to happen. Not in this weather.”

“So you’re saying I have no choice but to walk out in that and get soaking wet?” she asks, pointing out the window with a casual shrug.

This makes me laugh. I nod and scratch the back of my head. “I guess so. Let’s go.”

By the time we make it through the gate and to the pool area, we’re both drenched, the winds starting to gain even more force. I push Rachel toward the pool’s sliding door, and tell her to go find her friends and ask for dry clothes. After that, I run toward Diana who doesn’t seem to have noticed my arrival as she struggles to close a pool umbrella. I can tell by the redness in her eyes that she’s been crying, though the rain beating down on her hides it well.

I wrap my hands around the umbrella and steady it, bringing her attention up to me.

Her jaw drops before she swallows, her brows pulled together before a sob breaks through her. “You’re here.”

And I can’t bear it any longer. I wrap her in my arms, pull her to my chest, not giving a shit that the world seems to be falling apart all around us. All that matters is us, here, now, and that she knows she’s not alone.

“I keep trying to close this so I can move it to the storage shed where all the pool furniture is supposed to go,” she wails into my chest, “but the wind is too strong, and the water is making everything slippery. I don’t know what to do.”

“Shh. I’m here.” I kiss the top of her head and cradle her in my arms, letting her cry against my chest for a few more moments before releasing her. “We need to move quickly, okay? Before it gets worse. I can do the bulk of the work, but I’m going to need help maneuvering. You okay with that?” When she nods, I tell her, “Okay, let’s do it.”

It doesn’t take us longer than fifteen minutes to store the remaining pool furniture. Teamwork definitely made the dream work.

We call for the girls to bring us towels as soon as we walk into the kitchen, and then I catch Diana staring appreciatively at my now-transparent white t-shirt. I grin mischievously. Her deep blush when she realizes I’ve caught her makes me laugh despite this crazy situation.

“Don’t worry,” I whisper. “It’s not like I wasn’t doing the same thing.” I nod towards her own top, where I can clearly see her pebbled nipples through the fabric.

“I’m wet,” she whispers back. “That’s why.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are.”

She snorts and shakes her head, but not before slapping me on the shoulder. Laughing with her like this after everything that happened, as the adrenaline begins to wane, makes me want to kiss her more than I ever have. But the moment is interrupted by three girls running into the kitchen with a stack of towels each.

“I think you guys should come stay with us,” I tell her once she’s changed into dry clothes. Mine are in the dryer while I’m wrapped up in a robe.

“What? No. Why?”

“I texted Barbara, and she said this house doesn’t have a generator, and with these winds and the old cables around the area, I don’t trust that your power won’t go out. My house, on the other hand, does have a generator. Plus, your house is closer to the shore than mine. I’m more inland, so my place is better protected.”

She shakes her head, and looks over at the girls as they play in the living room, making sure they don’t hear us. “No way. We’re fine here, I promise.”

“Dee,” I sigh, reaching out to cup her face, taking a step closer to her. It’s a risk, I know, but I can’t help it. “Please. For me. For my peace of mind,” I beg. It’s a fucked up move, because I know her first instinct is to help people, so I know that by asking her this way it will be harder to refuse. But there it is. I’ll do anything to keep her safe, anything to make sure she and the girls are protected.

She looks back at her daughters then back at me. “I don’t think⁠—”

And, thank god, that’s when the lights go out.