“Can’t blast music nonstop, kiddo. We need to preserve the fuel,” Carlos said.
“I saw some spring breakers bring guitars. We could do a sing-along. Keep people engaged. And the DJ could do something on the hour,” Lizzie suggested. “Like a two-song dance party. Get everyone moving, burn off energy, then back to quieter activities. We can keep the generator at low power most of the time and crank it for the music.”
Carlos grinned. “Not how a generator works, but I got you. A storm rave. I like it.”
Sarah considered it. It was better than letting them panic in the dark.
“There are board games too,” Carlos said. “Part of the backup entertainment. They’re in the supply shed.”
“Perfect. We set up a game room.” Lizzie was getting animated now. “Giant Jenga if we have it. Cards Against Humanity. Beer pong. Whatever else is there.”
Sarah looked around the kitchen. Everyone was nodding, getting into it. The panic from earlier was fading. They had a plan.
Sarah pulled up the floor plan on her phone. Billy had sent it to her years ago when he was planning renovations that never happened. “The dining room is biggest. We set up games there. The living room for the spa. The den has those built-in shelves so we can use it for music. Kitchen stays kitchen.”
They stood there for a moment, the plan settling in.
“Alright.” Sarah clapped her hands. “Let’s do it. Carlos, you and your guys move furniture. Lizzie, you’re with me. We’re going to the shed for supplies.”
“In this weather?” Lizzie looked at the boarded windows.
“It’s fifty feet. We’ll be fine.”
***
They weren’t fine.
The moment Sarah opened the back door, wind nearly ripped it off its hinges. Rain came sideways, so hard it felt like needles against her skin. She grabbed Lizzie’s hand without thinking and they ran.
The shed door was unlocked. They tumbled inside and Sarah slammed it shut behind them.
“Jesus.” Lizzie was soaked again, hair plastered to her face. “That’s insane out there.”
Sarah was dripping onto the concrete floor. The shed was dark except for the flashlight on her phone. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with supplies.
“Grab the games,” Sarah said. “I’ll get some of the towels, flashlights and lanterns. The food is upstairs in one of the storage rooms.”
“Good thing, I wouldn’t want to run out here time and again in this weather.”
They worked in silence. Sarah loaded cans into a plastic crate while Lizzie piled board games into her arms. The wind howled outside. The shed walls shook.
“This was smart,” Lizzie said. “Having all this ready.”
“I was worried about the storm when they first talked about it. Some of this stuff was already here form last year, but I decided to add more over the last week. Every ferry that went out with supplies had extra just in case things.”
Sarah looked up. Lizzie was watching her with an expression Sarah couldn’t quite read.
“We should get back,” Sarah said.
The run to the house was worse than before. The wind had picked up. Sarah’s crate was heavy and awkward. Halfway there she stumbled. Lizzie grabbed her arm, steadying her, and they made it to the door together.
Inside, activity had replaced chaos. Carlos and his crew were moving furniture in the dining room. Maria had breakfast spread across the kitchen counter, ready for the spring breakers to come down. Judging by the noise from upstairs, that wouldbe any moment now. The DJ was setting up in the den, running extension cords to the generator.
Sarah and Lizzie set down their supplies. Other staff members swarmed immediately, grabbing what they needed, shouting questions over the noise of the storm.
Sarah moved from room to more, making decisions, solving issues, coming up with a game plan. Lizzie was right beside her, anticipating what Sarah needed before she had to ask. When Sarah couldn’t find the extension cord, Lizzie had already grabbed it. When Carlos needed help moving the heavy table, Lizzie was there.
The awkwardness from the past few days was gone. They were too busy for it. Too focused on making this work.
