Page 76 of Enemies to Lobsters
I love my husband.
A burning starts in my chest and radiates outward. I love this man so much, I want to deck him. I’ve been massaged, hypnotized, bamboozled. Boiled alive. I should’ve thought this through before I blurted out the words I can’t take back. Maybe he didn’t hear them, since I mixed them in with a bunch of threats. My fingers are crossed.
“You love me.” Ike straightens. It’s not a question, and the wonder in his eyes undoes me.
“Technically, yes.” I nod. I’m all seriousness on the outside, but I’m hyperventilating on the inside.
His brow furrows. “Technically?”
“Technically. I find your personality and face extremely attractive. I think about you almost constantly. You’re charming and fun. Irresistible. I think that means I love you.” I clear mythroat. “But don’t read into it too much.” Back away from the pot of boiling water, Ike.
Can I chime in here?Tom Selleck’s rumbly voice pops into my head.
No, you may not.I need to be levelheaded. Ike is making it difficult enough with the sad eyes.
I shove his shoulder. “Don’t you dare with those eyes. Stop that right now.”
“I’m just confused.”
“I'm going to let you be confused, because I’m confused, too.” I lean against him. “I haven’t figured anything out.”
I shiver, hunching my shoulders against the chill in the room. Ike’s stolen sweatshirt isn’t helping much. I want him to build a fire for us, but sleeping downstairs isn’t an option.
“Let’s wrap you up.” Ike stands, stretching and arching his back. “It’s going to be a long night if we don’t stay warm.” He steps to the darkening window, peering out at the storm. “Um. I don’t want to alarm you, but out of an abundance of caution, we should move to higher ground.”
My heart drops. “Why do you sound like a text message from the National Weather Service?” I laugh nervously, following him to the window to get a look.
It’s mostly dark, and I can’t quite see the outline of the shore. Then lightning flashes and I realize why: The shore is under water. Waves are crashing a dozen feet away from our porch steps, so close they’re almost spraying against the house. I freeze, blinking at the water below. This can’t be real.
“Breathe, Di.” Ike pulls me against him. “We’re going to be fine. I’m only being cautious. I can’t let anything…” he shakes his head, then I feel his lips against my forehead, holding there while he breathes me in. “I just want to keep us safe. Let’s go.” He starts stripping the starfish quilt off my bed, bunching itunder his arm. “Grab whatever you don’t want to get wet,” he says with a wince.
I nod, following his instructions robotically. I grab some pillows, my laptop, and a few odds and ends, and we rush through the dark house into the lighthouse tower. Lightning flashes through the narrow windows as we climb the stairs, and thunder rattles the whole building.
Usually, I enjoy thunder. I love a cozy, dark day, reading under a blanket while a storm rumbles in the distance. This is different. Zeus and Poseidon are taking turns pummelling our little island with both fists.
We reach the lantern room, and it’s so much scarier up here with a three-hundred-and-sixty degree view of the storm. But even as the wind and rain clash against the salt-crusted windows, logically I know we’re safe. This thing has been standing for over a hundred years. She’s not going anywhere tonight, especially after the work we’ve done. On week one I had the tower inspected by a specialized engineer who assured me that the structure and foundation were solid before I had the staircase replaced. Built to endure, he had said. Like a lighthouse. My beautiful hardwood floors, though? Those might be toast after tonight.
I sigh shakily, setting my stuff on the floor while Ike looks out the window, scratching his beard. He still has my blanket bunched under his arm. I tug it free, wrapping it around my shoulders on one side and offering the other side to Ike.
“Thanks,” he mumbles, distracted by the chaos outside. He curls his side around himself, and we stand at the window, wrapped in my blanket. All we can do is watch as the ocean closes in on Cape Georgeana.
Chapter 36
Ike
Something drags me from sleep. When did I drift off?
Diana and I had huddled on the floor to stay warm. I told her stories to distract her from what was happening outside, and she did her best to distract me in her own way. Being across the water from Cape Georgeana and powerless to help is aggravating, but I could tell Diana was trying to keep my mind off of it. I remember the feeling of her curled up against my flannel shirt, and I smile in the haze of half-sleep.
Then the sound that woke me echoes through the hollow tower again. I jolt awake. It’s water—churning, sloshing, and runninginside the tower.
As quickly and carefully as I can, I slide my arm out from beneath Diana’s neck and tuck the blanket around her. I don’t know what I’m going to find, but I don’t want her to be awake for this. She shivers in her sleep. I need to check things out before the cold wakes her up.
It doesn’t take long to confirm that water is inside the lighthouse. I move quietly down the stairs, pulling my phone out of my back pocket.
“Please,” I mutter. Don’t be dead. I swipe it open. There’s still no service, but my battery is at eighteen percent. That’sone miracle. I need a few more. And I need to make this quick. There’s no telling when we’ll get power back.
I turn on the flashlight, pointing it toward the bottom of the tower as I peer over the rail. Murky water swirls and rushes against the bottom stair. With shaking hands, I turn off my flashlight and power down my phone to save the battery.
