Miss Julia Weathers the Storm by Ann B. Ross

Author:Ann B. Ross
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2017-02-06T13:40:43+00:00

Chapter 26

As we began the last leg of our journey home, the traffic thinned out somewhat, although there were still more cars on the road than usual. I could imagine beachgoers and Charleston residents filling motel and hotel rooms all across the upstate. And frankly, if we’d not been so close to home, I would’ve voted for a stopover at any Motel 6 that had a light on for us.

Full dark by this time, the temperature outside was noticeably cooler as we started up the mountain toward Abbotsville. It was taking us more than twelve hours to retrace the route that had taken barely five to get us to the beach in the first place.

Latisha and Lloyd were asleep in the backseat, and I was dozing off and on only because I felt the need to stay awake to keep Sam company.

“You know,” I said to him, pitching my voice low for the sleepers’ sake, “I’ve hardly given a thought to Etta Mae and LuAnne this entire day. Or to Hazel Marie and her family. I guess I’ve just assumed, since they left before we did, that they didn’t get caught in the traffic.”

He didn’t respond, so I leaned closer and said, “Sam? You’re not asleep, are you?”

He laughed. “Not yet, but I’ll be glad to get home. As for the Pickenses and Etta Mae, I’ve kept an eye out for them—checking cars pulled to the side and those that had been abandoned. I expect they’re all home by now. Coleman and Binkie should be the last ones in. Or us. But as soon as we get there, let’s call around and make sure everybody made it.”

“Yes, and I must call Lillian, too, regardless of how late it is. She’s surely heard about the hurricane so she’ll be worried.”

He nodded, and after a little while, I said, “I wonder how Etta Mae and LuAnne got along. I don’t mean handling the traffic and the waiting and so on. I mean how the two of them managed together. If LuAnne talked the whole way, Etta Mae will be worn to the bone. She’s not a chatterbox as LuAnne is, so it could’ve been a miserable drive for her. Oh, and here’s another thing—I wonder where LuAnne wanted to be dropped off. I doubt she’d go to the condo, and she can’t get into our house, and Etta Mae’s single-wide isn’t big enough for a guest.”

“Maybe,” Sam said, “she’s at a local motel. That would be the logical place if she didn’t want to go home.”

“Well, who knows what she wants to do. She’s gone back and forth so many times, I can’t keep up with her.”

When we reached Abbotsville a little after eleven that night, Sam turned onto the long, empty Main Street—not a creature nor a car, except ours, was stirring its entire length.

“What a relief,” I said, “not to be hemmed in on all sides. Everybody’s in bed where they’re supposed to be.”

“We really roll up the sidewalks at

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