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"Is this Ms. Lorelai Rhys? The owner of the bridal shop on first Avenue?" A voice asks me from the phone.
My stomach is immediately in knots. No one is making a social call in the middle of the night, and I have a sinking feeling that this isn’t about a dress…
"Yes? Is something wrong?" I ask while still trying to wake up.
"Someone reported a fire at your business. Fire crews are already on the scene. We urge you to be there as well," The voice replies.
Instantly I'm awake, my heart racing. "Thank you, I'm on my way." I say hanging up the phone.
I yank it off the charger, jumping off my bed and jamming my feet into my shoes. I don't care that I'm still in my pajamas, my only concern is getting to the shop. I grab my purse and keys and hurry out of the apartment.
I drive as fast as I can. I'm praying the whole time that I don't run any red lights, but honestly, I’m scarcely paying attention. I finally arrive and park across the street. Sure enough, there are two fire trucks and a police cruiser. I don’t see any flames, and there’s no sense of urgency in the firefighters milling about, but a few faint wisps of smoke are still rising from the building. I get out of my car and race over to them.
"Are you the owner of this business, ma'am?" The fire marshal asks me.
"Yes, my name is Lorelai Rhys," I reply.
I glance at him anxiously. “What happened?”
"Well Ms. Rhys, I’m happy to report that we managed to put out the fire quickly. Obviously it did some damage, but the structural integrity of the building is still intact and it looks like most of your merchandise was spared, although I don’t know what might be affected by smoke or water damage,” he makes an apologetic face. “But thankfully the store was empty and no one was hurt."
I nod as I listen to him, a mixture of sorrow and relief roiling in my stomach. "Do we know what caused it?" I ask, trying to assess what I can of the damage from here.
"Yes ma'am, it was an electrical fire," he responds.
He asks me a few questions and jots down my information in his report. I'm in too much shock to say or ask anything else.
He hands the report to me. "You'll need this for your insurance. I'm sorry for your loss," He says, before walking away.
I take the papers and nod at him. I watch as the fire crews pack up their gear and prepare to drive off. "Is it ok to go inside?" I call out to them.
"Yes ma'am, just be careful all the same," One of them replies.
I watch as they leave, stalling for a moment before I can gather the courage to set foot inside. I clutch the papers the fire marshal had given me like a lifeline as I set foot across the threshold. Immediately, I crinkle my nose at the burnt wet smell. I can already see that it looks heavily damaged, but I'm just relieved that it's still standing. I sigh heavily. It's dark inside, but I don’t know if the lights are working. And even if they are, I’m terrified to flip a switch and risk setting the whole place ablaze all over again.
So instead, I use my phone for a light. I make my way to the back of the store and grab a broom. I’m relieved to find that the workroom is completely untouched and safe. I set my phone down on the counter by the register and begin to sweep up the bits of debris on the ground. I'm going to need a clean space to go through all the remnants of the inventory.
I try to fight back all the tears and emotions that I'm feeling. During the process, memories pop up. I think about my grandmother, how she must have cleaned up the shop for so many years when it belonged to her. I remember the day my parents were killed in a car accident, and she had taken over raising me.
I remember following her all over this store. I would watch with wide eyes when she would pull out a gown for a bride to try on, the excitement in the air. I remember seeing the smile of joy on her face whenever she made a bride happy. A feeling I felt, too, with every happy bride. I pause sweeping and look around the ruins of the shop.
It’s early morning now, streaks of sunlight are starting to creep in through the windows. I can see the damage to the store even better now, soot-streaked gowns and scorched veils, not to mention the damage to the walls. The broom falls from my hands and I bury my face in them, the tears finally overpowering me.
