“I smell smoke,” yelled Farnie, alone in the kitchen, sitting at my old Playskool desk with a plate of corn in front of him.
Sure enough, above our heads, ribbons of faint white smoke were streaming through the air.
“Why isn’t the alarm going off?” asked my mother. If there was no alarm, there could be no fire. “When did you last check the batteries in the smoke alarm, Roger?” she yelled at my dad. He didn’t say anything.
“You’re stove is burning,” called Farnie.
“Everybody outside!” yelled my mother.
“I‘ll grab the wine. You get our coats,” said Adrian.
“Forget the wine,” I said.
He ignored me, dashing off to find the wine. “Don’t forget my scarf. It’s cashmere,” he called.
“Everyone outside. Now!” yelled my mother.
Adrian and I met outside, where he carefully nestled the wine into a snug spot in the trunk of our car. “There you go,” he said, patting a picnic blanket against it with care. “Leaving it here would be wasting it,” he explained with a shrug, catching my look of disgust.
We stood back at the end of the driveway, watching the chaos unfold.
“Move your car,” my dad yelled at us. “Make way for the fire trucks.”
I got in the driver’s seat and Adrian got in beside me. We meant to just move the car a little farther down the block, but the street was packed with cars. It seemed all the neighbors were hosting Thanksgiving this year. We just kept circling the block, unable to find a place to park. Snow began to fall and we heard the fire trucks on their way.
“Do you think they’d even miss us?” asked Adrian.
“They might notice if we never come back, but I don’t think they will miss us,” I said. So we left Hudson and my family behind us, and headed back to Madison.
Chapter 70
We stopped for the night in Eau Claire. Adrian passed out in the bathroom and I took the newspaper out of my purse. It was imperative that I be at that dance. I had to see Valencia. She undoubtedly would be there to see her daughter on court. Adrian and I were supposed to be arriving back in Savannah on the first of December. I would just have to tell him I needed some more time. Some time to myself.
I folded the newspaper, tucked it inside a magazine, and put it back in my oversized shoulder bag. The drama of the past several hours slipped away and a feeling of hope and purpose filled me. I took some faux cucumber slices from my makeup bag and pressed them to my eyelids as I reclined on the bed. The second I did so my cell phone went off. I removed the slices and looked at the number. It was my mother.
“Hello.”
“Where are you?”
“Umm, on our way home. We’re kind of by Baraboo now,” I lied, putting enough distance between us that she hopefully would not ask us to return.
“I can’t believe the two of you just left us like that.”
“I’m sorry,” I said lamely.
“Our house has smoke and water damage. We need to stay with you.”
“Okay. Tonight do you mean?”
“Tonight we’re going to stay at the hotel with Aunt Louise and Uncle Dave, but first thing tomorrow we’ll be on our way to Madison. Roger, get directions from them,” she said, and then my father came on the line.
“I don’t know how to find my way around Madison, so you’re going to have to meet us at the Country Kitchen. Let’s say ten o’clock. I’ve got to take care of Patricia. Give me a call in the morning.”
“Dad?” I said, but he was gone.
Adrian had dragged himself out of the bathroom. He collapsed on the bed beside me. “What was that all about?”
“They’re coming to stay with us.”