Page 10 of The Christmas Fix
Maybe it was time to move on and find a new real estate project to satisfy her wanderlust?
She thought of the Hais and felt a stab of guilt. Here she was mentally whining to herself about living in the same perfect property for too long, and her friends were in danger of losing their home. It’s not like the network would swoop in a second time to rebuild their home—
Cat’s feet hit the floor as she propelled herself into a seated position.
Maybe they would…
CHAPTER FIVE
“Holy. Shit.”
Cat muttered the pronouncement as she sat on the tailgate of a pick-up truck and pulled on a pair of her father’s hip waders. The muddy, murky floodwaters lapped at the stack of sandbags some enterprising employee had thought to set up in the grocery store parking lot.
After her epiphany the night before, she hadn’t slept. There was too much planning to do. She’d swung by her parents’ empty house at midnight and raided her father’s fishing gear while talking her favorite location manager into an early morning road trip. They’d left Brooklyn in one of the Kings Construction pickups at dawn and headed north in the rain.
The trip had taken hours longer than usual with road closures and Lauren’s frequent pee breaks. The system, now downgraded to an annoying tropical storm, had pushed further inland, which meant more flooding would be likely for the coastal areas as rivers and creeks pushed their overflow to the ocean.
Cat had parked the pickup in a half-flooded grocery store parking lot where a dozen other civilian vehicles towing boats and carting kayaks were lining up. They’d heard on the radio that New Haven had gotten quite a bit of water too, and that’s where most of the help was focused.
Merry was on its own.
The river had overflowed its banks and taken up residence in the lower end of downtown. But the stalwart New England community was ready to save its own ass.
“You’re not going out there,” Lauren announced, tossing her hair over her shoulder. The woman was seven months pregnant and in no condition to physically stop Cat.
“Lauren, Lauren, Lauren,” Cat tisked. “If I don’t go out there, how will we know how extensive the damage is? This is our chance to put together a real Christmas special here. Something that means something. The network needs to know what a hot mess we’ve got on our hands, or they’ll never agree to it. And Merry will miss out on its biggest source of revenue.”
“Hell to the no.” Lauren shook her head and crossed her arms over her baby bump. “If the insurance company finds out that your fine ass went into waist-deep flood waters you’ll have bigger problems than Christmas decorations.”
They watched as a pickup truck backed a trailer hauling two Jet skis into the murky water. Lauren shook her head. “I can’t believe we’re watching someone launch Jet skis from a ShopRight.”
Cat spotted a flat-bottomed boat trolling down what yesterday had been a street and used her taxi whistle to catch the man’s attention. She waved and he changed directions.
“You are going to get me fired, and then this baby won’t be able to go to college!” Lauren wailed.
“You’re not getting fired. No one’s going to know. I’m just going to take a little boat tour, and you’re going to document whatever damage you can from safety.”
“I’m going with you,” Lauren said stubbornly.
“You and I both know your wife is one of the scariest women on the planet. If she found out I let your pregnant ass get on a fishing boat and go trolling through flood waters, she’d murder me. Stay!”
Cat hooked a leg over the bow of the boat and clambered aboard.
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Stuart was a middle-aged man of few words. He piloted the small boat down flooded town streets with close-mouthed determination.Just another fishing trip for him, Cat thought. He had no idea who she was, just that she was some crazy woman who showed up to a flood with a small cooler of sandwiches and water and a thermos of coffee. She was just another volunteer to him, and she was happy to keep it that way.
Cat was incognito in her ball cap and layers.
She’d recorded the canoe rescue of a young mother, her little boy, and a bedraggled cat from their flooded home. And Cat had taken dozens of photos of flood waters and damage. She’d coaxed Stu—Cat had no idea if he minded her calling him that—to float them through the park in hopes of getting close to the Hai house. The park itself was completely submerged. The tree… The tree that had been decorated and lit every Christmas season for the past fifty years was broken, on its side listing in the ice-cold, debris-filled water.
There’d be no Christmas Festival here. Unless the network put their money where their mouth was. If the suits didn’t jump on this as the most epic Christmas special ever—well, that wasn’t going to happen. She’d make sure of it.
Mindful of the current, Stu didn’t venture too far into the park. Instead he motored up Mistletoe Avenue. The Hai house, a cute bungalow that Cat had personally helped renovate from top to bottom, was sitting in three feet of water. The finished basement would be a complete loss, and the first floor would need new drywall, new floors, and new molding, but barring a further freak act of nature, it would be livable again.
They weren’t there. The sign on the front door said so. And Cat wondered who had the forethought to ask residents to post whether their homes were empty, saving rescuers time.
She snapped away pictures, video. Whatever it would take to convince the network to send her back to this tiny town.
