The Trouble with Andrew (7 page)

“How come you can be safe and I can't?” Kate asked.

“Because I'm an architect and a builder,” he said flatly. Well, that explained why he had managed to be there every day when they had been working on his house.

And it would certainly explain how his had stood when hers had not.

He was watching her digest the information. But he didn't say anything else to her.

“Jordan, get your mom. Come on.”

Jordan seemed to like the man, who could be downright irritating, Katie decided. “Mom, come on.”

Right. Just what she wanted to do. Walk to Drew's house and listen to him explain to some mystery woman that he had been saddled with a thirty-something woman and her child since the storm.

She gritted her teeth. All right. She'd stand right in front of him and make him just as uncomfortable as she could while he made his explanations.

She followed him to his house but stood in the foyer as he went in. He answered the phone on the cherry-wood table next to the sofa. He had to know she had come in behind him, but he didn't seem uncomfortable in the least. Katie could hear every word he had to say.

“Hi! Yes, I'm fine, and this place is fine, but the development isn't so fine.” He was silent for a moment. “By God, I swear, I don't know, but I will find out.” A few minutes later, he said, “Something went very wrong. I haven't had a chance to see quite what yet… I have the little battery television. We've seen a lot. We—yes, I have a neighbor and her son here. Her house caved in. Three of them came down, four of them stood just fine.” The woman talked again, and he listened, sitting on the sofa, heedless of the plaster that covered him. He rubbed his temples. “I will find out. Someone was falling off somewhere,” he said. Katie felt herself shiver at the threat in his words. She wondered what he was going to find out—and she was suddenly glad she wasn't the someone who had been falling off somewhere.

The woman talked for a few more minutes, then Drew assured her that though the electricity was gone, everything else was okay. She must have told him she loved him, because he said, “Love you, too,” then hung up. He sat there thoughtfully for a few minutes, and neither Katie nor Jordan moved.

Then he stared across the living room at them, as if just remembering that they were there.

The battery-operated television was still on, and with the room so quiet, they could hear the news again. More reports were coming in. It was becoming obvious that Broward County had fared well, that even North Miami and downtown Miami itself had survived the storm well enough. The destruction had started in the Coral Gables area, moved southward and had become devastating.

Homestead Air Force Base had been damaged. The reporter said that for mile after endless mile from the Falls area all the way down to Homestead, there was destruction. People were beginning to wander around. They were warned to stay off the roads. They were advised about shelters. They were alerted about office buildings and stores that no longer existed.

Listening, Katie found herself moving into the living room with Jordan next to her like a second skin.

The three of them were staring at the little television.

She hadn't realized that half of her county lay in the same condition as her home. Perhaps it wasn't so strange that her house had fallen—it was stranger that Andrew Cunningham's had stood.

As they watched in silent horror, more and more of the destruction began to unfold. The National Guard was arriving in places hardest hit. Although the tower had blown off the National Hurricane Center in Coral Gables, the downtown area had sustained the storm well. The homes in Gables Estates had taken a beating, and people were already calling Gables-By-The-Sea Gables-Beneath-The-Sea. Still, it was becoming apparent that hardest hit had been Naranja, Goulds, Homestead and Cutler Ridge, with the Falls area—their area—taking a massive strike as well.

The television crews were out, skirting the devastation, the uprooted trees, the downed power lines. Estimates were pouring in. Tens of thousands of people were homeless. Boats had been swept incredible distances onto the shore—and right into houses.

Officials worried about the death toll, about digging beneath the crumpled houses. Again, they warned people to be careful of downed wires, to drive with caution when they did begin to drive again. They advised people not to make calls if they didn't have to, but of course, such advice was ludicrous, for everyone had family.

“Oh, God! My father!” Katie exclaimed.

Drew Cunningham's brooding attention was drawn to her. He picked up his phone, set it against his ear, heard a dial tone and handed it to Katie.

“They just said not to call—”

“Make it fast, then. Just tell him that you're okay.”

“You don't know my father. He called at three a.m.—right before the world exploded. And it's long distance—”

“Mom, it's a natural disaster!” Jordan chimed in. “I'm sure Mr. Cunningham will let you pay him for the call later!”

Drew Cunningham grinned. “I'll just charge interest. Call him quickly. We don't know how long the phone will last.”

Katie dialed, then said, “Hi, Dad!” as cheerfully as she could the moment her father answered the phone.

She had to pull the phone away from her ear—Ron Wheeler spoke with such passion. “Katie! I've been worried sick! What's happened, where are you? Are you okay, is my grandson okay? I've been seeing the pictures on television—my God, Katie, where are you?”

“I'm across the street at a neighbor's. I'm fine, Jordan is fine. I just called to tell you that.”

“Then your house—”

“My house is damaged, yes.”

“I told you that you should have come up here!” Ron insisted. She knew he was worried, but he also seemed to be forgetting that she was not only over twenty-one, but a few months past thirty-one, as well.

And he was speaking loudly enough to be heard in the next state, she was certain.

“Dad, the phones aren't lasting well. I just wanted to say that I'm fine—”

“I'm coming down.”

“Don't come down, Dad! There's nowhere to stay.”

“Then you get yourself right up here.”

“Dad, I can't come right away, I have to see about my home, my—my life!”

She glanced at Drew Cunningham. He was watching her with a certain amount of amusement.

“Have to go now, Dad. I'll call again soon. I'm fine, and I can't leave right away. When I can come up there, I will.”

She didn't wait. Ron Wheeler started to say something else.

“Bye, Dad! Take care!” she said swiftly, drowning out whatever he might have had to say. Then she handed the phone quickly to Drew, and he set it in its cradle.

“Any other calls?” Drew asked. He was looking at Jordan.

“My dad is dead,” Jordan said, and Katie realized her son had intuitively known that Drew was suggesting Katie should let Jordan's father know they were all right, if she was divorced.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Drew said softly.

“It's all right. It's been a long time now,” Jordan said, but he stood up, straightening his shoulders beneath the too big robe, and asked, “Can I go outside? In the front?”

“Sure,” Katie said. “I'm coming myself. I want to get some pictures. The house—that poor banyan tree.”

Jordan nodded and left them. Katie felt Drew's eyes on her. She wasn't sure why, but she felt a flush coming to her cheeks.

She turned to look at him. His gold eyes were intense as he watched her. “I should have known,” he said. “I'm sorry.”

“You should have known what?” Katie asked.

“That your husband had passed away.”

“Why should you have known?”

He grinned suddenly. “The way your father talked to you. He's a man who still feels he has the responsibility to look after you. That usually comes when a woman—is alone.”

Katie felt her flush deepen, and she looked down at her hands. He laughed softly, and she looked at him quickly. “He hasn't realized yet that I'm capable of looking after myself and that I don't mind being alone. But then—” she shrugged “—my mother has been gone a while now, too, so I suppose I'm good for him, too. He really is a great guy.”

“I imagine,” Drew said. “What happened?”

“To what?”

“To your husband.”

“Oh,” Katie said softly. It had been a long time. Over five years. She had learned to cherish all her memories, and just a hint of sadness filled her when she thought about Terry, though she could still grow angry at the way he had died. “A drunk driver,” she told Drew.

“I'm very sorry.”

“So am I. He was twenty-seven years old. It was an incredible waste of life.”

She rose swiftly, not wanting his pity and certainly not needing it.

She had her father to worry about her, after all.

“I'm going to take pictures now,” she told him. “while everything is still … awful.”

“It's going to be awful for a long time,” he told her softly.

She nodded. “I know that. But still…” She shrugged, lifting her hands. “It's what I do.”

He stood, as well. “Just be careful.”

“My father already told me that.”

“No matter what your father has seen on television, I'm sure he hasn't seen the half of it. Be careful.”

“Yes, sir!” she promised, and turned toward the door. She realized that he was following her. She paused, turning back questioningly.

“I know I'm not going to be able to keep you out of your house forever,” he told her. “I'm going to go over and see how stable the structure is—and what happened to the roof.”

“But it's not safe—”

“I know what to watch out for. And like I said, I know I won't be able to keep you away forever, right?”

She met the golden gleam in his eyes and smiled. He created the strangest emotions within her. One minute she was annoyed, another irritated—he could treat her just like a child. Then the next minute she was feeling anything but childlike, with little lightning flashes of heat racing through her at his lightest touch or softest word. She was doing things she just never did.

Thinking about him…

Imagining him … naked.

Katie, get a grip!

She turned staunchly and started out of the house, speaking quickly to cover her confusion. “You've got to understand—I have to get into the house. I have to see if I have any clothing left! Any pictures, anything of Jordan's, anything at all.”

“I do understand,” he told her quietly. “And that's why I'll get in there now and see what's up.” He reached out suddenly and wiped gently at her cheek with his thumb.

“Plaster,” he told her.

“You're still wearing a lot yourself.”

He shrugged. “But I might soon be wearing more.”

“And I really haven't anything else to wear, period!” Katie said, laughing. “So for the moment, I'm not so sure it matters.”

She grinned, turned and went out the door, lifting her camera and staring through the lens at the havoc created by the storm.

The banyan first, she thought. It hadn't been a person or an animal, but it had been alive. For years and years. It had shaded them, sheltered them, been a haven for squirrels and possums and birds.

It clearly denoted the power of the storm, for when it had come up, it had taken with it concrete and earth. It was amazing to see it ripped from the ground.

She quickly became involved with her work, taking care—she didn't have nearly enough film. She needed rolls and rolls of it. Jordan saw her as she worked, and came to stand quietly behind her, pointing out sad features caused by the storm.

There was a torn teddy bear stuck in one of the branches of the tree.

Katie snapped several pictures.

She turned to the outside of her house then, coming around the rear. The screen enclosure had completely unfolded and lay in her muddied pool. The steel beams had buckled.

She began to snap more pictures.

Jordan paused over a dead, almost featherless bird. She snapped more pictures, feeling as if a little piece of her heart tore out as she did so.

The occasional whip of wind came less and less. The sky began to clear.

The sun began to get hot.

She ran out of film.

She stopped with Jordan, sinking down to her lawn, watching as some of her neighbors started moving about, as well. Brandon Holloway, lifting palms from his front porch, waved to her.

She waved back.

A few minutes later, Drew Cunningham came out of her house.

“You should be all right now to do a little exploring inside. I pulled down what was about to fall, and the rest of the structure seems to be okay.” He hesitated, seeming worried and confused—and angry. “The structure is still good. The walls are solid inside as well as out. Your windows are blown in, of course … but the house can be fixed. If you want it fixed.”

“If I want it fixed?” she repeated blankly.

“You're insured, right?”

“Right.”

He shrugged. “Eventually, the insurance adjusters will make it around—probably after the looters, of course, but, when they come, you'll surely be offered a settlement. You could bail out and move.”

Katie shook her head. “I don't want to move. Jordan loves his school. I've lived near here all my life. I can remember when this was all swampland. I have no desire to move.”

“Good,” he said softly, and the golden glitter was in his eyes again. “Then I promise you it can be fixed. I'll see you at my house in a while. I want to look at the other houses that went down and see if I can do anything for anyone else for the moment. Then I've got to make some calls. When you get what you want from the house, just bring it over. I'll help you two get settled for the next few days. Or weeks,” he corrected himself, staring at her house.