Stetson doesn’t ask questions, just rushes to hand me the phone, and I answer it in seconds. “Mom? Hey. Is everything okay?” I ramble, feeling horrible for being here when I should be where she is, checking on her.
I’m not thinking clearly.
“Honey, I’m so sorry to bother you. The leak is back and worse this time. I just wanted you to know I’m staying with Lottie until I can get the handyman out again to take a look.”
Despite the circumstance, I breathe a sigh of relief. I’drather her stay with me, but Lottie is my aunt, and I know she will give Mom somewhere safe to sleep until everything is resolved.
“Jesus. I just wish this would end, Mom. I’m so sorry. I’ll stop by on my way home from work and take a look. I’m glad you’re staying with Aunt Lottie.”
“We were overdue for some girl time, right, Lot?” Mom hollers, and I hear Aunt Lottie shout. “Don’t worry about stopping by. I don’t want you exposed to any of the mold, sweetheart. Just get some sleep. You’ve been flying all day. You know how much that worries me.”
I do. Mom has nightmares all the time about my flights crashing and the phone call that would follow.
“And I love you for that. I’ll make some calls in the morning, then. I’m leaving work now, okay?”
“Okay. I love you, Cove. Beyond the stars and the moon.”
“Love you, too, Mom. Beyond the galaxies forever.”
I hang up, skeptical at seeing Stetson smiling softly. “Everything alright?”
“No, but it will be,” I whisper kindly. “I should get going.”
Gone is the moment we almost had, reality taking its rightful place.
He nods and I’m quickly reminded of the slit up the front of my skirt. “Oh, shoot.”
“Keep the jacket,” Stetson tells me, large hands stretching it across my legs to make sure I’m fully covered.
“You sure?” I ask. “I can phone a friend if I need to. Betsy would love to see me compromised like this.”
He shakes his head, insisting I keep it. “I’ve got plenty. Keep yourself covered and get home safely, okay?”
“Thanks, Stetson. Enjoy Miami.” I know there’s a possibility I might never see Stetson again, and I’m notsure if that’s what makes me do it or if it’s because he’s been so kind to me. Without overthinking, I lean forward and press the softest kiss to his lips. “Can’t wait to read thatForbesinterview. You deserve to celebrate.”
And with that, I hop off the ledge, adjust myself with as much dignity as I have left, and walk back to reality.
Away from Stetson Cole.
“Well,I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”
I massage my temples, struggling to mentally prepare for the damage. “I’m guessing this bad news comes with high dollar signs?”
“I’m afraid so,” Mom’s handyman, Tom, tells me as he fills out what looks to be an invoice. An invoice with a whole lot of words on it.
Problems, if I had to guess. And numbers.
It’s been forty-eight hours since my run-in with Stetson at the Seascape airport, and ever since, all hell has broken loose. Thankfully, Mom is currently working a double at the hospital, leaving me here with Tom for an urgent inspection.
I knew rust and wind damage were normal, living in South Florida, due to the salty air. These are conditions you prepare for, residing on the coast. But it’s as if Satan himself wrote a list of all the ways he could fuck up someone’s comfort and assigned it to my mother.
“What’s the damage, Tom?” I follow him to the two rocking chairs on the front porch of Mom’s home, and he hands me the invoice.
My eyes run through the news while Tom lists off theunavoidable problems on our hands. “Based on my home inspection report, water damage to the floors is the least of your concerns. I was able to get on the roof and locate the leakage points; however, I won’t know confidently what we’re looking at until we get a qualified roofer to pull everything off and assess it. The hurricane last August did a number on the roof tiles, and unfortunately, they’re the most expensive to repair or replace. That’s considering you don’t need a full roof replacement.”
My stomach drops. I had a feeling. Hurricane Ivy did a number across the coast of Miami. Homes were completely destroyed, and those directly along the beach were worse than others. Thankfully, Mom’s place is about ten miles inland, a reason for us not to expect something like this to come about. Everything has been slowly turning to shit over the last six months.
Looks like a category four hurricane is not for the weak…or the inland homes either.
