Nora had welcomed her onto the porch and gotten her situated in a rocker with a thick blanket and a mug of chamomile tea. In a way, it helped Nora to have someone to take care of, a task to do. If she could busy herself, it might make the unfolding tragedy a little less painful to bear.
“Miles just texted me back.” Scarlett focused on her phone, silently reading the incoming message. “He and Cooper just got back from a long day of theme park hopping.” She gave a little huff of laughter. “I think that’s the reason he’s taking all of this remarkably well. Apparently, even bad news goes down easier when you’re at the happiest place on earth.”
J.P. looked at her, but he didn’t focus. His eyes were vacant, his face drawn and expressionless.
“Scarlett.” His voice was an inaudible croak. “I don’t know how this happened.” In a familiar tick Nora attributed to nerves, J.P. scratched his neck. “I think I left some tools plugged in. Maybe they shorted out and caused all of this. I know Miles was going to have an electrician come out next week.” His fingernails left marks as they dug against his skin. “I should have just used my generator until we were given the all clear.”
Scarlett swatted at the air between them. “J.P., don’t you go there. This isn’t your fault.”
“But it has to be. There’s no other explanation.”
“There arelotsof other explanations,” Scarlett said in a tone that was absolutely no nonsense. “The firefighters will do their investigation and figure it out. In the meantime, don’t go accepting blame for something that likely isn’t your fault.”
Those words did nothing to calm him. J.P. began pacing the perimeter of the porch, walking down one side and doubling back, head shaking, teeth grinding.
Around ten thirty, the fire chief came over to give them an update. The flames were completely extinguished, but it would still be a few days before they had a definitive source. J.P., Nora, and Scarlett were warned not to go into the building, that it wasn’t safe to do so, and that the integrity of the structure was completely gone.
It was a total demolition job at this point.
Nora noted how J.P.’s pallor transitioned from the beginning of the conversation to the end. It started off ruddy with worry, cheeks reddened and pink. Then he went white as a ghost before taking on a sickly shade of green. That tint stuck around for a while.
Even Scarlett seemed to be tolerating the news better than J.P.
She made a few lighthearted quips about being able to build her dream home from scratch rather than wedge it into the original blueprint of the rundown ranch house.
As tragedies could go, this one had a relatively happy ending. They were only in the beginning stages of the renovation. The big order of lumber they’d placed had been delayed and wouldn’t be arriving until later next week. And most importantly, everyone was safe.
Even the bees, Nora mused as she settled into bed just a little before midnight.
It had been a blow to come over the hill, only to see the property in flames. For a moment, she feared it was her farmhouse, then that fear switched to guilt over her palpable relief that it wasn’t.
But the fire crew had acted fast, containing the blaze before it had the opportunity to eat up the weeds and dry brush that covered most of the ranch. It could have been so much worse.
She tried to reiterate all of this to J.P., but he just couldn’t compute any of it. His thoughts still lingered on the fault that probably wasn’t even his to bear.
“I’ll call you in the morning,” he’d said before leaving. No kiss, not that she’d expected one. All romance had vanished from the evening. But she had at least hoped for a hug. She had wanted to fall into his arms. It would have done both of them good, to be held and consoled by one another.
Nora tried to silence the disappointment and focus on sleep, but it wouldn’t come. The shock from earlier had dissipated and now adrenaline pumped through her veins, a caffeine-like buzz that made all of her senses stay on high alert.
What would she have done if ithadbeen her grandmother’s home? The thought of the beloved farmhouse burning to the ground made her chest feel hollow, concave. She knew material things were replaceable and that the memories would always remain. A fire couldn’t take those. They were housed in her heart, not in the physical walls.
But there would be a mourning period, as with any loss. And Nora just wasn’t sure how much more loss she could endure.
She awoke a little after sunrise,almost wishing it was J.P.’s loud music to rouse her from slumber and not the birds that chirped their morning chorus on the other side of the window.
There was a time when she had wanted him gone, but this wasn’t how it should have played out.
She thought about calling him. She was worried about him. His reaction had been a deep one, bordering on severe. She almost saw a shadow of PTSD in it. It was more than just disappointment over lost work. There was something under the surface that she couldn’t put her finger on. It said something that Miles and Scarlett weren’t even as distraught as J.P. had been. There had to be a reason for that.
Nora was on autopilot as she cleaned her two scheduled houses that morning, and only when she met up with April and Tillie for smoothies around lunchtime did she force herself to perk up with a pasted-on smile as a mask that covered her worry.
“I heard about the Callahan property,” April said through a heartfelt grimace when she came up to squeeze her friends in a shared group hug. “How awful for them.”
“It is,” Nora agreed with a slow nod.
Side by side, the three women shuffled up in the line congregating on the sidewalk, awaiting their turn to order fruity drinks from the food truck.
“Do they have any idea how it started?” Tillie pulled a handful of ones from her coin purse, thumbing through the loose bills.
