Then Calvin’s phone rings again, andNikoletta Realtorflashes on the screen. “Sorry, excuse me,” says Calvin. He steps out once more. They can see him walking back and forth in front of the restaurant, raking his hands through his hair. When he returns, he sits and says, “Okay, everyone. Here’s the deal. We need to wait to see what kind of settlement we get from insurance.” He takes a deep breath, blows it out slowly. When Natalie drops her napkin and bends to pick it up, she sees that her father and Kara are holding hands under the table. Five days ago this sight would have filled her with an unspeakable rage, but now she’s sort of glad that Calvin has someone’s hand to hold. “And then. Well. What Nikoletta is suggesting is...”
The sisters look at each other, alarmed. Why can’t Calvin finish a sentence? Is he having a stroke? “Go ahead,” says Jordan.
Calvin clears his throat. “You have to understand that this isn’t how I wanted things to go. But Nikoletta suggests that we sell immediately to a developer who will demo to the foundation and rebuild.”
Even the kids seem to understand the import of this moment—even Caspian, who is sitting in Austin’s lap. He puts down his sippy cup and casts his saucer eyes around the table.
Mae is the first to speak: “But that’s so soon. It won’t be Mom’s house anymore.”
“No,” agrees Calvin. “No, it won’t.”
“And we won’t be selling to a family,” says Mae.
“You knew whoever bought it was probably going to tear it down,” Jordan points out.
“Yeah, eventually. But I thought maybe they’d live there for a little bit first. I pictured little girls in our rooms. I know that doesn’t make sense. But it’s what I pictured. That’s what made me feel better about it.”
“I pictured little girls too,” admits Natalie.
“If I’m being honest,” says Calvin, “I did too. But I don’t think we have much of a choice here. To remediate flood damage in a house that will only get more destroyed by the next flood—it doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t,” agrees Austin, and one by one they join in.It doesn’t. It doesn’t. It doesn’t.
The server clears the plates and pizza pans and brings the check. Calvin puts his credit card down, and for a few long moments nobody says anything.
Jordan speaks first. “First thing I would do if I were rebuilding is no more wood floors. I’d do slate in the kitchen, then those faux-wood floors made of ceramic throughout.”
“Geez, Jordan,” says Mae.
“What?”
“The body isn’t even cold.”
“There are some fantastic wood alternatives out there,” says Austin experimentally, and after a time Natalie joins in. “I always thought a breakfast nook would be nice. You know? Like we have at Hillside. The kids love it.”
Mae shoots daggers at Natalie with her eyes, then Kara says, “A raised deck would be lovely. With one of those built-in grills, maybe? An outdoor kitchen?”
They can see all of the emotions cross Mae’s face. They watch her come around. The Storm is passing, and they wait for her to speak. Finally, she says, “If I was rebuilding anyway, I’d get one of those walk-in dog bath things. You know, to get the sand off before they track it in the house.”
They all agree that this is anexcellentidea.
They ate so early that there’s plenty of daylight left when they get back, and the Shipman girls want to walk in the direction of the flagpole, just the three of them. Maybe all the way to the Beach Club. It’s decided that Calvin and Kara will take the kids for a walk in the other direction, while Austin checks out the water level inside the house.
“Can we look for a whale on the beach?” asks Scarlett.
“I hope you don’t find one,” says Natalie. “That would be really bad news for the whale. There’d be no way to get it back to sea.”
“A dolphin, then,” amends Evangeline.
“Same deal.”
“Maybe some crabs that can make their way back to the water as soon as they need to,” suggests Mae, and they agree that, yes, crabs would be okay; they’ll look for crabs.
Kara reaches her hand down, and Caspian stretches his up, and off they go, a funny permutation of a family.
On the way to the Beach Club, there’s more detritus, more people examining their homes or picking through what the receding tide left on the beach. The air feels clean and clear, like the bad parts have been swept away with a broom. And there, arching across the sky out over the ocean, as perfectly placed as it would be in a child’s painting, is the most beautiful rainbow. They all see it at the same time. Because, as they were instructed their whole lives, they remembered to look at the sky.
“You can’t tell me that isn’t Mom,” says Mae.
