As she drifted off to sleep, after Debbie left the room, Meredith could hardly wait to see them all at breakfast the next day. She was sure they would want to check on their houses, and she’d ask Jack to help them.
Alone with Jack in the kitchen, Debbie was saying that she would have liked to poison them all and get rid of them. She reported that Meredith was being stubborn about them. They had a last drink from Meredith’s bar, which was better than their own booze, and went to their apartment, convinced that their impromptu houseguests were going to be trouble, and they were determined to get rid of them as fast as they could.
What they didn’t understand was that for the first time in fifteen years, Meredith was having the time of her life, and she wasn’t going to let anyone interfere. Her home was full of life again, with people who needed her. There was a sense of community and caring, which made each of them feel stronger and braver in the face of adversity. Welcoming them into her home had made them feel safe and brought them comfort and had turned a trauma into an opportunity to make new friends. And Meredith intended to hold on to that for as long as she could. And no one was going to spoil that for her.
Chapter 3
Meredith’s houseguests emerged shyly from their rooms the next morning, some of them having slept later than they had intended to. The events of the night before, the shock of the earthquake, and the steady stream of small- to medium-sized aftershocks had worn everyone out, and their rooms at Meredith’s home were so comfortable that when they finally fell asleep, they slept for hours.
The weather the next day was cooler, and the sky was gray. The ongoing sound of helicopters overhead and the sirens of fire trucks in the distance were a constant reminder of the state of emergency and chaos that the city was in. The governor had come to observe some of the damage the night before, and the president had promised to come in the next few days. He was on a state visit to Southeast Asia at the time. The whole city was shut down and all businesses, schools, and offices were closed.
When Meredith came out of her room early that morning, in jeans and a T-shirt, and an old pair of gardening boots from the back of her closet, she found Daphne sitting on a chair politely in the hallway, all alone, holding her doll. She looked as though she was waiting for someone, and was afraid to move. The house was large and daunting, and she seemed happy when she saw Meredith, who smiled at her.
“My mommy and Will are still asleep,” she whispered. “Martha and I woke up.” She had dressed herself and was wearing pink jeans with hearts on them, and a gray sweatshirt inside out, which were the first things Tyla had grabbed out of a drawer when she went back into their house for some clothes for them. And Daphne was wearing the pink light-up sneakers she’d had on the night before. Meredith had admired them when they met.
“Did you and Martha sleep well?” she asked, stopping to talk to her with a warm smile. Daphne’s long dark hair had been haphazardly brushed, and she nodded in answer.
“You have a very big house. Do you have children?” She was curious about her.
“I have a daughter. She’s grown up, and she lives in New York.” Daphne nodded, absorbing the information.
“You live here by yourself?”
“Jack and Debbie live here to help me. You met them in the kitchen last night.”
“My daddy said you’re a witch, before we met you. Like in Hansel and Gretel.” Meredith was a little shocked and then she laughed. God only knew what others said about her, since no one ever saw her, or didn’t recognize her when they did. “I think you’re a good witch,” Daphne added. “Martha thinks so too. She said so last night.”
“Thank you.” Meredith grinned, and held out a hand to her. “Would you and Martha like some breakfast?” Daphne nodded immediately. She’d been sitting in the hallway for an hour, waiting for someone to get up.
“She’s very hungry.”
“Me too,” Meredith said. They held hands as they walked down the grand staircase, and then a smaller one to get to the kitchen in the basement. The generator provided enough electricity to run the basic equipment to prepare a simple meal, and Jack had one of the refrigerators running on it as well. Debbie was in the kitchen when they got there, looking on her phone at the news of the destruction around the city.
“Both bridges are closed,” she announced, as Meredith and Daphne walked in. “It was an 8.2 quake. There’s a lot of damage downtown. People are still stuck in elevators. It looks like a total mess. Half the streets are impassable, and there’s been a lot of looting South of Market. The hospitals are jammed.” Meredith had heard that the death toll was over three hundred the night before, thousands of people had been injured, and many were still trapped and buried under their homes. Emergency services were working overtime. Additional trained personnel had been flown in from other states, and volunteers and civilians were helping to dig out survivors. “The National Guard was called in to control the looters. Jack says we need to keep the gates locked,” Debbie said with a severe expression. With Meredith’s sudden spirit of generosity toward her neighbors, she and Jack were both afraid she’d try to bring more in, or throw open the gates.
“My daddy didn’t come home from the hospital last night,” Daphne said in a soft voice, her eyes big in her face. “My mommy was afraid our house would fall down. And Will said it would blow up if Daddy didn’t turn off the gas.” The news had reported fires raging all over town, and with water mains broken, the firefighters couldn’t put them out. The fires burning out of control were what had caused most of the damage in the 1906 quake, and could again.
“Your daddy must be very busy at the hospital,” Meredith said.
“He fixes broken arms and legs,” Daphne said proudly, as her mother and brother wandered into the kitchen. They both looked sleepy and tousled, in oddly assembled outfits, but clean clothes. Tyla had been annoyed to realize that the only shirts she’d brought for herself had short sleeves. She usually wore long-sleeved ones, and she had absentmindedly grabbed Will’s soccer uniform, which he was wearing to breakfast.
“Debbie, do you think we can manage pancakes?” Meredith asked.
“Sure,” she said, setting out places for four at the kitchen table as Tyla and Meredith chatted. She noticed an ugly bruise on Tyla’s upper arm in the short-sleeved, plaid shirt she was wearing.
“Ouch, that looks nasty.” It was about the size of a salad plate. “Did that happen last night?” Meredith asked her. It seemed dark purple to be that fresh.
“I…I don’t know…I fell in the garage a few days ago, I slipped on some oil, it might have happened then,” she said vaguely, as Ava walked in, in bright pink exercise clothes, fresh and wide awake. The top looked more like a sports bra and her midriff was bare. She was in perfect shape and her muscles taut.