Page 108 of Rum Sips and Salty Lips

She stares at me blankly, clearly done with me in her house. I walk out, wondering if this is the last time I will be inside these walls. I thought I understood her. But if she won’t even look at herself, then I don’t know what I can expect from her.

In the end,the wedding would have been ruined anyway.

It wasn’t anything they could’ve prevented, but the reality of living in Florida and it being fall—Tropical Storm Thea formed in the gulf in the days leading up to the weekend, and I did everything I could to prepare.

I have my checklist. I know what needs to be done.

I knew this was a risk when I moved here. It was one reason why people told me it was a bad investment to buy a house on the beach. But I deluded myself into thinking I had more time before it would impact me. I thought I’d appreciate the beach more and the way the waves collapsed on the sand. I thought I’d be able to memorize every dune between my house and Paradise.

I thought I’d be able to keep Carina.

I field phone calls from my family asking if I’m going to evacuate. We don’t have orders to, and I decide to stay. Carina’s voice echoes in my head.

I’m going down with the island.

She doesn’t mean that. She’d be the first person to heed an evacuation order. She wouldn’t risk having to be rescued and taking resources away from people who truly needed them or putting the lives of first responders in jeopardy.

I take care of the boats in the marina, securing them as much as possible. There is a chance I could lose them. But that’s what insurance is for, I remind myself. I run my hand over the helm of theTwisted Rigging. I always thought I’d be devastated if I lost this boat. This once was my home, an external manifestation of my soul.

But nothing currently compares to the anguish in my soul at losing Carina.

When I pull into my driveway, I see Christian putting up shutters with her, and I’m so thankful she has help. They also placed sandbags in front of all her doors. She’ll be safe, but I want to ride out the storm with her.

Christian waves at me, and then with a nod from Carina he hops the fence into my yard.

“You got everything you need?” he asks.

“I think so. Boats are secure. I have water, batteries, nonperishable food.”

He looks back at Carina moving her patio furniture to the garage. I cringe thinking about her leg. Has she rested enough? “You’re more than welcome to stay with Autumn and me. We have a guest room.”

He knows the answer I’m going to give. But he had to ask.

I stay where she stays.

“I’ll be fine,” I say. “The storm surge shouldn’t be bad.”

He nods. I’ve obsessively checked the weather and radar for years. The most important part of sailing is knowing the wind. But for the last couple of days, we all have obsessively checked the models and the predictions. I can talk spaghetti models and if we should be paying more attention to the Euro track all day.

“If you change your mind, let me know.” He claps me on the back and then heads back to Carina’s place.

I go inside, to the house I thought I’d give up everything for. I thought this place would force me to put down roots and invest in the community around me.

I could lose it all. Not in this storm, but there will always be another one. Carina has always been right.

I don’t care about the house or my business or my boats. It means nothing if I don’t have her.

My phone vibrates on the table with a text.

Alex Barnes

Hurricane party at Paradise! 5pm!

At least some people aren’t concerned.

I look at the gulf where the waves roll fiercer than I’ve seen before.

A lone figure stands on the beach, with her blond hair whipping in the wind.

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