Love Fast

All anyone has talked about at work today is the weather. The bus doors open and part of me wants to ask the driver to turn around and drive me back to the Club. But I can’t. I have to make sure Athena’s safe. She’s an independent little thing, but she always comes home last thing at night.

The rain is so heavy, I can barely see the outline of the cabin. And apparently, this isn’t the storm everyone’s worried about. I like rain. I’m from freaking Oregon—rain runs through my veins. But the look of worry shadowing the locals’ faces today has me on edge.

I hope Athena is curled up on the porch. I learned my first day with Athena that I can’t keep her in the cabin all day. She clawed my leg and shot out the door when I showed up after my shift the first day I left her at home. She’s not a cat who can be shut in. How she ended up in the cat carrier, I have no idea.

The short walk from the road to the cabin leaves me drenched. I don’t think I’ve ever been so wet. Athena normally comes from nowhere to circle my legs before I have my key in the door. Today, there’s no sign of her. I scan the porch, but I can’t see any huddled-up bundle of white fluff anywhere.

“Athena!” I call. “Kitty cat!” I doubt she can hear me. The rain on the roof of the porch hits like a hammer on granite. I check the time on my phone. I wonder if Snail Trail is still open? I could use some rain boots. I glance up at the sky. No, rain boots aren’t going to help. I need a freaking canoe.

All of a sudden, my stomach turns over. What was I doing, coming down here? I should have stayed up at the Club. At least I was with other people there. What happens if the tornado lifts the roof off the cabin? I might get buried under a pile of logs.

If I’d been at home, my mom would be telling me what to do. She probably would have told me to stay at the Club. I’m not used to ordering food at a restaurant and I’m not used to deciding where to ride out a tornado. I look out into the black sky. It’s too late now to head back to the Club. The bus turned right around when it left me. Nerves tumble in my stomach. I don’t know what I was thinking coming down to look for a stray cat.

Athena’s probably safely tucked away somewhere—maybe even the home she escaped from. If she could see me, she’d be licking her paws with disdain, contemplating what a fucking idiot I am.

The shuttle bus is long gone. Maybe I could get a cab? I’d feel terrible bringing someone out here in these conditions, especially since they’d be returning down the mountain alone. I’ve left everything too late.

I just need to do the best I can. Nothing left for it now but to go inside and try to get warm.

I peel off my coat and hang it on the back of the door. “Athena!” I call again, just in case I locked her inside this morning when I left. She’s used to her name and usually saunters toward me when she hears it. Maybe she needs a little incentive. I grab her cat food and put some in her dish. “Athena!”

Nothing.

I head to the bedroom to check in there. Opening the door, I hear the rain hammering against the window. It’s fierce. I wish Athena were as eager to get inside.

I dip down to check under the white, metal-framed bed, but it’s clear.

The rain is relentless.

Drip, drip, drip.

Wait. That’s not rain.

I try and silence my breathing so I can hear better.

Drip, drip, drip.

That sound is definitely coming from inside the cabin.noveldrama

Just then, the sound of creaking wood splinters through the bedroom. Shit, is that the ceiling? I don’t know where I’m safe. And that’s when I see the pool of water on my bed. I glance up to a ceiling bulging downward, dripping a steady stream of water.

“Oh no!” I cry out.

I go into the kitchen and grab the biggest pot I can find to put under the leak. It won’t keep the ceiling from caving in, or save the mattress that’s probably already soaked, but I need to feel like I’m doing something. Anything.

I really need to move the bed and save it from any further damage. The room isn’t big though, and no amount of shifting left or right will escape the steadily worsening leak. I should call Beth and Mike.

And I need to find Athena.

“Athena,” I call out, my voice strained as I push the foot of the bed frame with all my body weight. Once the frame hits the far wall, my suspicions are confirmed—it’s not far enough to escape the leak.

Now the drips are hitting the edge of the bed and the creaking sounds louder. There’s so much water. I bet it got through to the mattress. Maybe I should just pull the mattress off the bed and put the pot on the bedframe.

I pull at the mattress, but it’s about a foot thick and feels like it’s full of bricks. How is it this heavy? When I manage to move it down to one end, it gets stuck at the other. Maybe I can pull it from the other side? I clamber over the bed, my pants getting soaked from the pool in the middle of the blankets.

I get to the other side of the bed, but realize I can’t get down between the wall and the frame.

Shit, I’m bad at this. I need to pull the bed back to where it was, or at least a couple of feet from the wall so I can get on the other side and push. I climb over the bed again, getting even wetter.

Is it me, or is the leak getting worse? Is the ceiling likely to cave in?

I start to pull the bed, first the head and then the foot.

A pounding at the door makes me screech in surprise.

Maybe someone found Athena and has brought her back? For a second I wonder if it’s Frank, swooping in to rescue me. I suppose that’s what his role was meant to be in my life—a man rescuing me from a future I didn’t want. But he was just offering a different future. Not a better one.

As I make it out of the bedroom, the cabin door opens and Byron appears in the doorway. His hair is slick with rain and he’s breathing hard.

“Rosey,” he says. I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in my life. I want to leap into his arms and bury my head in his chest.

“Byron!” I say. “I’ve lost Athena and it’s raining in the bedroom and I shouldn’t have left the Club. I don’t know⁠—”

He strides across the living space and holds me by the shoulders. “It’s going to be okay.”

I sigh with relief that he’s here. Thank god.

He releases me and stands tall. “Don’t leave my side,” he says, heading into my bedroom. I scurry in after him.

He moves quickly, pulling the bedding from the mattress, then pulling the mattress off the bedframe like it’s a pool float, rather than the heaviest thing I’ve ever had to move.

“Do you have a bucket?” he asks.

I hand him the pot I collected from the kitchen. He takes it from me and positions it under the leak.

The creak of wood sounds again and our gazes meet. “Is it the ceiling?” I ask. He grabs my hand and pulls me out of the bedroom.

“Get your coat on and let’s take any supplies we might need. Water. Food. I probably have enough, but it doesn’t hurt to have more.”

I don’t have a chance to ask him where we’re going because he pulls out his cell and dials a number while he opens the refrigerator and starts tossing stuff onto the counter. I gather it all up and put it into bags.

“Beth, it’s Byron. Cabin two has a leak in its roof.” He listens. “Yeah, Rosey… No, I don’t want either of you to come out in this. We’ve moved the furniture. Yeah… Agreed. No, that’s fine. Keep safe.”

He hangs up. “Nothing we can do about it until the storm has passed. Let’s pack up your things. You’ll have to stay with me.”

Panic races through me. “What? No. I’ll just stay on the couch.”

Byron glances around, sees the bag from Snail Trail and grabs it. “Let’s go.”

“No, Byron, I’m staying here.”

“No, Rosey, you’re not. You have a leak in your bedroom now, but the entire ceiling could collapse. Water likes to travel. Without inspecting the roof, there’s no way to know where the ingress started. The entire ceiling could be at risk. You’re staying with me.”

Tears form at the back of my throat. I arrived in town a week ago in a wedding dress with no place to stay and no job, having let down my entire family, but it’s not until now that I feel truly vulnerable.

“We used to get leaks in our trailer all the time.” My voice quivers as I finish my sentence. “We always had a couple of buckets collecting rainwater.”

“This isn’t a trailer. If this ceiling comes down, you’ll know about it. And we could be facing tornadoes in the next twelve hours. You’re not staying here.”

“I can’t stay with you. Maybe the inn⁠—”

“The inn is still full, Rosey. I’m not asking you to move in with me. I’m telling you, you need to shelter at my place. There’s a big difference.”

His tone has darkened. I realize I don’t have any other choices here.

Silently, I get to work gathering up the few belongings I have here in Star Falls. It’s just toiletries and clothes, but it’s nothing I can afford to sacrifice.

My Snail Trail bag full, we head out. “But Athena. I don’t know where she is,” I say.

“She’ll turn up. Or maybe she went back to whoever she lived with before she turned up here.”

“And maybe she’s frozen and vulnerable, hiding somewhere.”

“Shit, Rosey.” He pulls out his phone and starts to type. “There. I messaged a couple of people to keep an eye out. Bring her food in case she comes back. We gotta go.”

I hand him my bag of belongings and grab the cat food. We both brace ourselves for the storm as we head to Byron’s cabin.