appreciate his offer and his loyalty, but I know he doesn’t want to be here. The only way I could give him what he needs while still letting him do his job would be to go with him and Sally.
And, yeah, that’ll solve the Jonathan dilemma, but Moira will go ballistic.
I can’t think right now. My head feels like it will explode.
“When are you leaving?” I ask, looking between the two of them.
“Tomorrow morning.”
I nod, unsurprised.
“And you’ll be back when?” I ask. “Monday?” The studio has set Monday as our tentative day to resume filming, provided that the storm isn’t too bad.
Ramon and Sally look at each other before Sally faces me again. “At home, we were talking to a few of the neighbors.” She winces as she speaks. “They said the last time they had a Category 2 storm, most people in town were without power for three days.”
Holy shit.
I am used to roughing it. I can go without power for weeks on end when I’m in the woods. But I can’t imagine being stuck in a house. Alone. Without electricity.
Without air conditioning.
For three days.
L.A. can get hot in August and September, yeah. But Louisiana heat is like taking a hot shower in your clothes. The humidity is relentless. You sweat, and it doesn’t have anywhere to go. When we’ve had outdoor, daytime scenes to film, we have to wrap up by ten a.m. or the other actors and I visibly start to melt. Especially the monsters in prosthetics and makeup.
Luckily, there aren’t too many scenes like that in the movie.
Which is set to resume filming on Monday. And it doesn’t exactly sound like Ramon and Sally plan to be back that soon.
If the storm passes without major damage, I need to be here, ready to work, first thing Monday morning. And I honestly don’t feel like making the five or six-hour drive there tomorrow, only to have to turn around and do it again Sunday.
And I don’t want to ask Sally and Ray to do that either.
“I’m going to stay put,” I say, definitively. “You guys go and take your time.” I smile at my best friend. “Give Colleen and Jeff my love.”
Sally gives me a careful smile, but Ramon’s not convinced. “You sure, Iris?”
I nod. “Yeah. I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet, but I need to stay in town.” I don’t have any doubts about this. It’s everything else I’m uncertain about. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
“We won’t leave until we’ve made sure you have everything you need—food, water, batteries. Shit like that,” Ramon says. “I’ll drop you two at the house and hit the grocery store.”
“I’ll go with you,” Sally says, her eyes on him.
These two. What they have has taken on a life of its own. Sally won’t leave Ramon to face any of this alone.
I inhale slowly, trying to will away the ache watching them gives me. I’m happy for them, really. Truly, I am. But witnessing this relationship that’s unfolding between them only makes the sting of my solitude that much more potent.
I should just go to Jonathan’s. At least I won’t be alone. And it does sound like the safest and—let’s face it—most comfortable option. Maybe if I take charge, I can control the narrative on social media. Post my own pictures of me, alone, at Jonathan’s.
I shake my head. I can’t make a decision now. Waiting until tomorrow might be best. But I shoot Jonathan a text just to keep my options open and leave the other two dozen or so messages unread.
Chapter Twenty-One
BEAU
I spend Friday buying and cutting plywood and then boarding up my tiny house. There’s only the two side windows, the one door, and a skylight, but the job takes all morning—mostly because the lines at the Northside Home Depot check-outs were at least six customers deep.
I picked up a few sand bags while I was there, but I hope I don’t need them.
I just make it to Camelia Court in time to join Mom for her favorite “Catfish Friday” lunch, and unlike most Fridays, the place is packed. Nearly each table holds a visitor. We all know we won’t be able to come visit this weekend, and even with the safety protocols, the caf buzzes with a nervous energy.
“I won’t be able to take you to Riverside on Sunday, Mom,” I tell her. We’ve talked about the storm, not that talking has done much good.