And it had made all the difference.
* * *
CARA STARED OUT as gray sheets of rain pounded the earth in a steady drumbeat. Thunder clapped right overhead, sending Hope running to wrap her arms around Cara’s legs. The wind pushed the water in sheets down the streets and shook the fronds of the palm trees into a frenzy. She chewed her lip, hoping David hadn’t been caught in the deluge. The streets of Charleston were notorious for flooding. There’d likely be a photo in tomorrow’s Post and Courier of people trudging through water or floating in a canoe down some street.
She tensed at the sight of a long black car inching its way through the waterlogged road toward the house. Its windshield wipers were madly sweeping off water and the lights cut a swath through the darkness. When the car pulled into her driveway, Cara’s heart jumped.
“He’s home!” she exclaimed. Hope squealed at her heels as she raced to the front door and pulled it open. The wind whipped against her face, moist and chilled. She gripped Hope’s hand, restraining her, and put one foot out onto the covered porch. She wanted to rush down the stairs into David’s arms. Hope clung to her hand as they watched the car door open and David’s familiar shape emerge, no raincoat or umbrella. He slammed the door and sprinted up the stairs to the porch.
Hope rushed forward, but David extended a hand to ward her off. “Stay back, Moonpie. Come on, girls. Let’s get inside.”
Unsure of what was happening, Cara ushered Hope into the dry house. David followed, closing the door. But instead of drawing near, he created a six-foot distance between them. Rivulets of water slid from his thick salt-and-pepper hair down his broad forehead, to a face chalky from fatigue. He wiped the water from his face, then removed his drenched jacket. He looked around helplessly for a place to put it.
“Just drop it on the floor,” Cara said. She searched his face, wondering why he didn’t grasp her in a hug, kiss her soundly, as he always did when returning from a trip. “David, are you ill?”
David wiped away a shock of wet hair from his forehead. “I don’t think so… God, I hope not. But I don’t want to take any chances,” he told her, his eyes boring into hers. “Not with my girls. It was a packed flight. Damn airline lost my luggage.”
“Oh no,” Cara said, understanding now his delay.
David shook his head. “I put in a claim.” He glanced at Hope clinging to Cara’s leg with a look of confusion on her face. “Sorry I can’t hug you, pumpkin,” he told her gently. “Daddy wants to. You know I do. But I might have a nasty germ and I don’t want you to catch it. Okay?”
Hope nodded, but Cara wasn’t sure how much of that she understood. “Where’s my present?” Hope asked coyly.
“Daddy doesn’t always have to bring you a present,” Cara admonished.
Her face was crestfallen. “But he always does when he comes home from a trip.”
“True,” David said, then lowered so he could look into Hope’s face. “The airline lost my luggage. But it will get here, soon… I hope. And you know what? Your present is in that suitcase.”
Hope frowned and turned, giving him the cold shoulder.
Cara chuckled wryly. “I don’t think our daughter understands the concept of delayed gratification.”
David tried to laugh, but he was so tired it was little more than a smile and a nod of the head. “No gift—no hug. Hey, I get it.”
Taking in the chalkiness of his skin, the droop of his shoulders, Cara grew serious. “How bad was it in London?”
David’s smile fell. “Bad. Cases are rising. I got a message when I landed. A colleague in London tested positive.”
Cara felt her stomach fall. “Oh no.”
“That’s why I’ve got to be extra careful. I have to go straight into quarantine,” he said soberly. “In fact, I shouldn’t be talking to you now,” he added, stepping farther away.
“Quarantine? What does that mean?” She’d heard the word tossed around, but there were no guidelines.
“To start, we have to keep away from each other, completely, for two weeks.”
Cara blew out a stream of air. “Okay, we can do that. You stay in the master bedroom,” she added, beginning to realize what quarantine would entail. “I’ll bring you meals, mail… anything you want.”
“We’ll work out some system.” David tried to sound positive.
“Can’t you get a test? Maybe at the hospital?”
“There are no tests. I called my doctor and he said quarantine was the best thing to do. And wash hands. A lot.”
“I looked up the CDC guidelines online. We’re already hand-washing.”
“We have to do more. Eliminate going out, unless necessary.”
“We can do that. I’m just so glad you’re home.”
David shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s better if I stay away, as in completely away, from you and Hope. No need to panic. It was a long flight, and a big push to get out of London. That’s probably why I’m so exhausted. But I don’t want to take any chances. Not with you two. I’m going to our room—alone. You’ll feel better staying with Hope in the other wing. I won’t leave the suite. I can’t be in the kitchen, either. I hate to ask you to serve me, but it’s safer for you to bring me trays of food and leave them outside the room. Then wash your hands immediately after.”
“Of course. Two weeks isn’t that long. Do you really think it’s necessary?”
“Absolutely. This thing is spreading like wildfire. I don’t even want to be this close to you without a mask.”
Cara looked at her daughter and felt her chest constrict. “Hope is compromised because of the measles.”
David’s gaze sparked with worry. “You should take her farther from me. I’m going into the bedroom now to shower off. And I’ll crash.” He wiped his face again, and Cara could see that the hours of stress had taken a toll. He looked haggard, and she felt a sudden shiver of fear that he had contracted the coronavirus.
“Off you go,” she said to David and, taking Hope’s hand, hurried her off into the bathroom in the other wing, where they both thoroughly washed their hands.
“Is Daddy sick?” Hope asked, her dark eyes round with worry.
“I hope not,” she replied. “We’ll have to wait and see. But we can’t go near Daddy until he says he’s better, okay? Promise?”
Hope’s face clouded but she agreed. “I promise.”
* * *
IT WAS A sleepless night. Cara had settled in the guest room with Hope in her own room across the hall, while David slept in their bedroom on the other side of the house. Though they all were together again under the same roof, Cara felt very alone.
The night cloaked the room. She had left the porch doors wide open, allowing the cool night air to waft through the bedroom and whisk across her skin. The storm had raced off to sea, as storms often did when they traveled from the mainland, over the barrier islands to the ocean. David had been in Europe on business frequently all fall and winter, and she was accustomed to sleeping alone. But tonight, knowing he was so near, she longed to feel his arms around her. She would not share his bed again for at least two weeks, or longer if, God forbid, he had caught the virus.