Darcy didn’t want to use last Friday’s awful fright as a reference point either and just shrugged. “Let’s worry about Griffin later. Right now, we’ve got problems enough with the rain.”
She took a last drink of coffee, pulled up the hood on her raincoat and went out into the nursery to fetch the sandbags. They were piled in a wheelbarrow, but it was too heavy for her to either push or pull. She grabbed the topmost bag, headed through the nursery and carried it around to build a makeshift dam in front of the shop’s door.
The chilly rain had dampened her clear through by the time she’d shoved the third bag into place. She turned to gauge the progress of the water along the curb and saw a hazy figure approaching. She stepped under the awning and waited for him to pass.
Jeremy stopped when he reached her. “It looks like the storm drains are getting clogged with debris. I thought
you might need some help.”
Darcy wished the same thought had entered Griffin’s mind, but she managed a bright if slippery smile for Jeremy. “I sure could. Would you mind carrying sandbags?”
“Not at all. Just tell me where they are and I’ll stack them for you. That way one of us can stay dry.”
“No, I don’t mind working. It’s better than just wringing my hands.” She led him to the wheelbarrow, which Jeremy promptly wheeled out front. They completed the low wall in a matter of minutes, but Darcy kept glancing out toward the street.
“Water’s pouring off the mountain as fast as it falls from the sky,” she moved in close to confide. “This corner lot is terrific for business, but with water coming at us along the front and down the side, we may be in for a very long day.”
“Well, at least we don’t have to worry about the shop sinking out from under us,” Jeremy teased, “and I’m used to getting wet.”
“You’re also a very good sport.” They surveyed the nursery stock, and began moving plants in five gallon cans away from the front. Darcy went into the pottery shed to grab a broom and found water running across the floor. The structure had been designed to provide shade rather than security, and it was no wonder rain was seeping under the wall from the side street, but the sight was still unnerving.
Jeremy came up behind her and looked over her shoulder. “That doesn’t look good,” he said.
“No, but maybe we can use plastic bags of potting soil as sandbags and divert the water away from the shed. Let’s give it a try, at least.”
“Good plan.”
Jeremy reloaded the wheelbarrow, then pushed the ten and twenty-five pound bags around to the sidewalk. It took them awhile to stack the bags at the proper angle to deflect the water, but they were satisfied they had done some good. Ready for a break, Darcy led the way inside the shop.
“George just called,” Christy announced. “His street’s flooded, so he can’t come in. Mary Beth won’t be here either. It’s nice to see you, though, Jeremy. The coffee’s fresh, so help yourself to some. I need to run upstairs for a minute to check on Twink.”
“Thanks. Take your time.” Jeremy shrugged off his coat, looked around for a place to hang it, then draped it over a stool near the counter. Water dripped off the cuffs and hem to form a soggy puddle on the tile floor. “Now I need a mop. Do you have one handy?”
“Let it go,” Darcy replied. “Has it ever rained hard enough for the buildings along Embarcadero to wash away?”
“Not that I know of, but I’ve only been here a couple of years.”
“That’s reassuring.” Darcy poured them each a cup of coffee, but before she could raise hers to her lips, Christy Joy came running down the stairs.
“There’s water pouring in through the roof upstairs. Fortunately, the leak’s right above the bathtub, but what if that whole side of the roof gives way?”
“We need a tarp,” Jeremy suggested. “Don’t you have some out in the nursery?”
“Yes,” Darcy responded, “but I won’t have you crawling around on our roof in the rain.”
Jeremy chuckled at her rebuke. “If it weren’t raining, there would be no need to get up on the roof.”
“No, Darcy’s right,” Christy Joy agreed. “We’ll have to call Griffin and let him send someone over to fix the roof.”
It wasn’t a call Darcy was eager to make, but she reached for the telephone and punched in his private number. He answered on the third ring, and just hearing his voice made her knees weak. She leaned into the counter for support and, fighting for a business-like tone, she provided a brief description of the problem.
“I’ll be right there,” he answered.
“No, wait. You shouldn’t drive down the mountain in all this rain. The road will be awash in mud and rocks and—”
“Careful, Darcy, I’m beginning to think you might care what happens to me.”
“Well, of course, I care. Just stay put and call someone who does roof repairs. That’s all I need.”