Nights Like This

Chapter 12

Alexei woke up Saturday morning to rain hammering endlessly on the Reynolds' house. He got out of bed and padded to the window, pulling the curtain aside. He yawned and stretched, blinking at a grey world. Trees and bushes hunkered under a falling sea of raindrops. The streets were flooded. He dropped the curtain, stretched luxuriously and went to the bathroom.

Dressed in jeans and t-shirt, he walked in the kitchen. Eva was helping at a center for evacuees and Adam was at a fire station. "Bom día, Don Alexei, despite Hurricane Paul. Would you like coffee?" said Luis Harrison, Marco and Alexei's private secretary.

"Sí, gracias." Luis started to get up.

"I'll get it," said Alexei." He put sourdough bread in the toaster and poured coffee. When the toast popped up, he sat at the table and buttered it. He took a long swallow of coffee, then a bite of toast.

"How did you sleep, Don Alexei?"

Alexei said, "Pretty well. Didn't wake up once. Maybe the rain lulled me to sleep."

"The hurricane is going to cause a lot of problems," Luis said. "Worst flooding since Hurricane Matthew. Do you want eggs and bacon? The power's out, but the generator is working. We may as well use up the fresh food."

"Sure, but I'll make them."

"Bacon's on the plate."

Alexei finished his toast before getting up. He scrambled three eggs and toasted more bread. He lifted a napkin and looked at five rashers.

"Has Herberto eaten?"

"Sí, he's in the garage. Take it all if you want."

Alexei put all the bacon on his plate, found an orange in the refrigerator and sat down. "Have you ever seen rain like this, Don Luís."

"Oh, yes, I was assigned to Charleston when Hurricane Matthew hit in 2016. The weather report says Paul won't be worse."

"Right, right. That's why the Kyrie asked you to come out of retirement to accompany Don Marco here. You know the people and the country."

"I was in the US south for ten years, mostly in Charleston."

"Then you can tell us all about the town and the people."

Luís laughed. "They are much like people anywhere else."

Herberto came in carrying a dripping umbrella, which he set in a corner.

"This is a bad one. Rain filling the streets. High tide. No place for it to go." He got coffee and joined them.

"Fortunately, we have a gas stove and a generator," said Alexei. "The house is well above ground."

"Srta. Dolores went with Don Marco to stay with Ambassador Urraca." Madison traveling with Marco was known to all but not spoken of. "I'll Facetime him tonight and see how he's doing," said Luis.

*

Metty sat on her mother's porch in West Summerville watching the rain. The ditches were flooded. The road by the house was still clear and might stay so if a tree didn't fall. She picked up her hot tea and sipped. It had gone cold.

Bryan Larson, her mother's partner of 11 years, stepped onto the porch, followed by their daughter, Bryany. Ten-year old Bryany had cornflower blue eyes and long blond hair. Her delicate features were marred slightly by the scar from the repair of a minor harelip. Oddly, this gave her an interesting smile. She had a few missing teeth, which would be fixed when she was older.

"Watcha doing, Messy? Counting raindrops?" Bryany sniggered. Bryan grinned.

"Lost count a billion ago. Don't call me Messy. Is the TV still on?"

"Yeah. Downtown Charleston's flooded, Messy." Metty looked at her. "Lucky you and Grandma came here."

Metty got up. She had had it with Bryany's rudeness. "I'm going to feed the cat, Rabbit."

Bryany wailed. "Dad! She called me Rabbit!"

Bryan grimaced. "Don't call your sister that name. She's sensitive about her lip."

"I don't like being called Messy."

"You should have moved to Tallahassee with your boyfriend."

"Atlanta. The police told us to evacuate. My mother lives here, in my family's house." Metty went inside and into the kitchen. She filled the cat's bowl and set on the floor while the cat yowled as though starving. The cat began to eat. June sat at the table, chopping tomatoes. Her mother was stirring chili on the stove. She took a tray of corn muffins from the oven."

Bryan stomped into the kitchen. "That daughter of yours called Bryany," he said, whispering, "Rabbit." Bryany appeared behind him, face damp with tears.

"Marletta!" Sylvia turned to face her.

"Bryany called me Messy. He told me I shouldn't stay here." Metty put water on to boil.

Sylvia turned to her boyfriend. "Bryan, you know this house is as much hers as mine. My children will always have a home here. Just like Bryany will. And my mother."

Metty looked at Bryany. "I apologize for calling you Rabbit. I won't do it again. You need to stop calling people names, too."

"Don't you tell her what to do!" Bryan's face grew red.

"Bryan," said Sylvia, stepping between them. "Leave. You hit my child and I'll call the police. Bryany, go watch TV." Bryan trembled with frustration. Bryany began to cry. She ran out of the room.

"Now look what you've done." He turned and stalked out of the room.

Sylvia said, "Metty, Leave your sister alone."

"She—and her father, can leave me alone. Thank goodness you never married him."

"Mom, watch the chili," said Sylvia. She went into the living room and Metty heard her offering to buy new clothes for Bryany's doll. The wails died away. The noise of a child's afternoon cartoon spewed from the TV.

Metty sat at the kitchen table and checked her phone for texts. June peered at the pot of water on the stove. "Water's boiling," June said. "I'll pour your tea." She fixed the cup and set it in front of Metty, then sat down again.

"I hope this storm blows over soon so we can go home."

"I do too. Sylvia keeps asking me to move in here. I suppose I'll have to when you leave."

Metty whispered, "You know you won't like it here."

"I need the money from the sale of my house," she said. "Your mother doesn't have the income to make it without a little extra. She won't get a job. Bryan works, but he likes to spend his money on Bryany."

"And himself," said Metty quietly. "I appreciate you letting me live with you, Grandma. Maybe I can stay for a while after I graduate next May. Find a job. Pay rent."

"I like my own home."

"Who doesn't? To change the subject, have you ever seen a storm like this?

"A couple of bad ones. The flooding is bad this time, but we're OK here."