“We cared not one bit about studio politics,” Ada told Mitch as she nibbled regally at the food on her plate. Dinner was a flavorful beef bourguignon, roasted root vegetables and good, crusty bread. “All we cared about was making our movies. We wrote them together. My dear Luther produced them. And I directed them, which the studio boys didn’t like at all. I was a broad. Broads are for sleeping with. Broads are for shutting up. I wouldn’t do either of those things. Nor would I back down, because I saw them for the complete boors that they are, and… Lester, must I compete for attention with this New Age crap?” Ada meant the vaguely Eastern-sounding music that was playing on the dining hall’s multi-speaker surround-sound system, something with tubular bells and wind chimes. “I feel as if I’m at one of those touchy-feely retreats where they stick needles in your feet.”
“Sorry, Ada. Force of habit.” Les hurried over to a wall control by the kitchen door and flicked it off. “We turn it on to signal our guests that it’s mealtime.”
“What are they, lab rats?”
The dining hall of Astrid’s Castle was even vaster than the Sunset Lounge. It had three chandeliers, walk-in fireplaces at either end, both ablaze, and enough tables to accommodate a hundred or more guests. Right now, only their lone table by the windows was set, complete with twin candelabra. Les and Norma were at either end. Ada sat on Norma’s left, Teddy on her right. Mitch was next to Ada, with Des directly across from him. Aaron was next to her, facing Carly, who sat in between Mitch and Spence. Carly seemed very subdued. She’d said nothing since they sat down to dinner. Just kept staring across the table at Hannah, who was next to Aaron.
Outside, the frozen rain pattered loudly against the windows, and the wind continued to howl.
“You say the boors that they are,” Mitch spoke up. “That sounds like you think the movie business hasn’t changed much since the fifties.”
“It hasn’t,” Ada said. “Oh, sure, they come out of Harvard Business School now instead of the rag trade. But they’re still the same boors. And the movies are the same dumb crap. Mitch, there are so many amazing people out there leading amazing lives. So many fascinating stories to tell. Instead, they keep churning out their same tired kiddie stories about flying saucers, Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. Mind you, the movies are louder and shinier than they used to be, and they can do things with computers that we never even dreamed of. But no matter how you dress them up, they’re nothing more than fake, sickening bedtime fables.”
“Here’s what I keep asking myself,” Mitch said. “And maybe you have the answer, Ada. What is this steady diet of fantasy doing to us?”
“Nothing good,” she replied flatly. “We’re turning into a nation that cannot cope with reality. We no longer deal with any of our genuine social ills. We merely pretend to be-more fantasy. And that is a very dangerous thing, Mitch. Because people who cannot accept reality are generally considered to be insane.”
Jory appeared at Mitch’s elbow now with the serving dish of beef bourguignon. He helped himself to seconds. Across from him, Des was still pushing her food around on her plate. She was not at ease at dinner parties with people whom she didn’t know well. When she felt tense, her appetite vanished. Mitch was entirely the opposite. Hence their entirely different body shapes.
“I don’t agree with you about our movies, Mrs. Geiger,” Spence said, ladling seconds onto his own plate. “True enough, we put out our share of youth fare. But I’d still stack up this year’s slate of mature-audience films against any in Hollywood history. We are talking about many, many Oscar-worthy films.”
“They pass out those awards as easily as they do condoms-and for much the same purpose,” Ada sniffed, peering down the table at him. “And you are…?”
“That’s Spence, Mother,” Norma reminded her. “He’s with the New York office.”
Ada curled her lip with disdain. “Ah, yes, the New York office. Let me ask you this, Mr. New York Office. And do think hard before you answer: Have you ever performed one single spontaneous act in your entire life?”
Spence didn’t respond. It wasn’t a question that called for a response. He went back to his dinner, reddening.
Hannah took a quick, nervous gulp of her wine, clanking the glass against her teeth, and blurted out, “How did the actors take to it? Being directed by a woman, I mean. Was that hard for you?”
Ada sat back in her chair, dabbing at her mouth with her linen napkin. “Actors want to be directed. I had no trouble with my casts. Not even Bob Mitchum, who everyone told me would be difficult. He wasn’t. He was a pussy cat. He always wanted me to teach him how to fly a single-engine plane. I told him, ‘Bob, you stay out of two-seaters and I’ll stay out of whorehouses,’” she recalled fondly. “It was the crew that was my real challenge. They had to know I was in charge of that set, knew what I wanted, knew when I’d gotten it. Because if your crew thinks you’re at all unsure, you’ll never make it.”
“I think today’s women would be thrilled to hear how you did it,” Hannah plowed ahead. “What you had to go through, how you coped, how you came out on top…” She was deep into her movie pitch now, no question. “You should share some of this with women my age, Ada. You’re such an inspiration.”
“What I did fifty years ago doesn’t interest me at all,” Ada responded stiffly. “I don’t care to look back. Looking back is strictly for people who think their best days are behind them.”
“You don’t miss the old days?” Mitch asked her.
“Never even think about them,” she insisted, in spite of the glow that had come over her deeply lined face when she’d mentioned Mitchum. “There’s so much that is new and fascinating to talk about. Why look back?”
“For any lessons that might be learned,” Carly said. “As historians, that’s what we are always trying to do.”
“Like with the blacklist,” Mitch said, sopping up the last of his gravy with a chunk of bread. “People are interested in how we let that whole, awful episode happen. And they should be. Because if we forget, it could very easily happen again.”
“It has happened again,” Ada said sharply, glaring at Aaron. “Because fear never goes away. Nor do the self-proclaimed patriots who fan that fear and twist it and profit from it.” She paused, wetting her thin, dry lips with a pale tongue. “Were they right about Luther and me? Of course they were. Not only were we active in socialist causes in the thirties, we were proud of it. I’m still proud. This country was falling apart. Capitalism was failing. Millions were out of work. Spain was falling. Hitler was on the rise. My God, we almost didn’t make it in this country. And if it hadn’t been for Franklin Roosevelt, we might not have. But we pulled together. We fought. And we prevailed.”
“And then Roosevelt gave half of Europe away to Stalin,” Aaron cracked. “Just a little parting gift from one comrade to another.”
“Franklin Roosevelt was a great president, Aaron,” Norma objected. “He saved this country, whether you wish to admit it or not.”
“He can’t admit it, Norma,” Ada said. “He and his so-called friends are too busy trying to dismantle the government that FDR worked so hard to build. Let me tell you something, Aaron. You people were wrong about the New Deal seventy years ago and you’re still wrong now. But you won’t let up, will you? Not until you’ve destroyed every single public agency that exists for the common good in this country.”
Des’s napkin slipped from her lap onto the floor. She bent down to retrieve it, briefly ducking her head under the tablecloth. Mitch could have sworn she’d done this on purpose. When she sat back up, napkin properly restored, he looked at her curiously. Her face betrayed nothing. She was a lovely, impassive sphinx.
“You’ve been out of this country for too long, Grandmother,” Aaron lectured her. “You’ve lost touch with average people. I am simply espousing mainstream American values.”
“What in the hell do you know about mainstream Americans, Aaron?” Ada demanded. “For your information, mainstream Americans will be living out of mainstream garbage cans after you and your band of greedy jackals have your way. Besides, I am not out of touch. To live overseas is to see us for the bullying, rampaging hypocrites we really are. We are positively awash in self-delusion. We steal peoples’ lands and tell ourselves we’re ‘liberating’ them. We lecture other countries about human rights even as we stage public, state-sanctioned executions of our own mentally handicapped. We preach equal opportunity, yet we’ve never, ever practiced it. Just ask anyone of color.” Ada glanced at Des. “No offense, dear.”
“None taken,” Des said quietly, as the frozen, windblown rain continued to pelt the windows.
“Now you just hold on one second, Grandmother,” Aaron countered. “I have allowed you your say-”
“You have allowed me nothing, you little twit.”
“But I don’t believe I should have to apologize for living in the greatest country in the history of the earth.”
“I think that we in the studio audience are now supposed to clap our hands like seals,” Ada jeered.
“This is the land of opportunity,” Aaron pronounced, his voice resonant and assured. “Everyone is free to make his or her own way, however they choose. The only thing holding them back is their own damned government robbing them blind to pay for bloated bureaucracies such as Social Security, which is nothing more than a spectacularly failed Ponzi scheme that was forced upon us by dreamers and fools.”
“Dreamers and fools,” Ada said, nodding her head. “That’s what we were. Some of us still are. Not you, though. You are a true, red-meat American, Aaron. And good for you, I say. But do me a small favor, will you? Give me an example of one moment of pure joy that it’s brought you in your entire adult life. One moment that wasn’t based on the manipulation and misfortune of others.”
Aaron sat there with his mouth open, at a loss for words. Which Mitch felt had to be a first.
“You can’t, can you?” Ada went on. “And that’s terribly sad. Because I can think of a hundred moments, a thousand moments. We had passion, Aaron. We cared about other people. You don’t. All you care about is sounding clever on national television.” She raised her chin at him, her eyes fierce. “My God, if your father could see you now…”
“My father was a loser,” Aaron snapped.
Norma let out an astonished gasp.
“You are way out of line, buddy,” Teddy said angrily. “My brother was a great man, and you’re not going to run him down-especially in front of your mother. Try that again and I’ll take you outside and pop you one.”
“Oh, go play your stupid piano, Teddy,” Aaron said to him savagely. “No one is interested in what you have to say.”
From across the table, Des locked eyes with Mitch. Behind those heavy horn-rimmed glasses, hers were wide with amazement. She had a few months of service in Dorset under her belt, but she still could not get used to this-wealthy white people behaving badly.
“Hey, come on now,” Les interjected, forcing a cheery smile onto his smooth pink face. “Let’s all relax and enjoy our meal, okay?”
Carly stayed out of the line of fire entirely. Just kept staring bale-fully across the table at Hannah. Mitch wasn’t sure why. He did know that Hannah was growing very uncomfortable under her gaze.
“I feel bad for you, Aaron,” Ada went on. “You’re my grandson, and I love you, and you have no idea how they’re exploiting you.”
“And just exactly who is they?” he demanded, seething.
“Why, the ruling class, of course. You’re not one of them, Aaron, and you never will be. You’re merely their court jester, all dressed up on television in your little bow tie. Should you displease them, they will unplug you. And you will cease to exist. You do know this, don’t you? You are such a realist you must realize this particular fact of-”
“Why did you even come back?” Aaron erupted at her. “You’re a horrible hateful woman! I wish you had stayed in Europe. And I’m sorry I schlepped all the way up here to see you. Carly made me. She said I’d be sorry if I didn’t. Well, guess what? I am sorry. I am really, really-” Aaron jumped to his feet, kicking over his chair, and fled from the table.
“Does the truth frighten you that much?” Ada called after him as he went charging across the dining hall, his footsteps heavy and clumsy.
“Leave him alone, Mother,” Norma pleaded. “He’s very young.”
“He’s an ass,” Ada shot back.
Teddy shook his head at her in amazement. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you, old girl?”
“And why should I?” she demanded.
“No reason,” he said, smiling at her. “No reason at all.”
The commotion brought Jory out of the kitchen. She righted Aaron’s chair, then refilled the wineglasses with the last of the Cotes-du-Rhone they’d been drinking.
“We’ll be needing another bottle, Jory,” Les said. “Would you mind getting one from the cellar?”
“Be happy to,” she said brightly, heading back through the kitchen door.
“I’d better see to dessert,” sighed Norma, massaging her temples with her fingers.
“You seem tired tonight, dear,” Les observed. “Let Jory take over.”
“I’m quite all right,” she insisted.
“Always the steady little plugger, my Norma,” Ada said, needling her. “Always the one to keep her troublesome personal feelings bottled up inside.”
“Yes, Mother,” Norma said irritably. Ada had pricked a tender nerve.
Mitch was wondering what that particular nerve might be when a tremendously powerful gust of wind rattled the dining hall windows, followed almost at once by a sharp, frighteningly loud crackle somewhere outside-and then by a thud that practically shook the castle to its foundation.
“My God!” Hannah cried out in alarm. “What in the hell was that?”
“That, my dear, was the sound of a very large tree coming down,” Les responded quietly.
Hannah shook her head in disbelief. “But why did it…?”
Another crackle interrupted her-and a second tree crashed to the ground. This one seemed even closer.
This one also plunged the entire castle into darkness.
Or something sure as hell did. The only illumination in the cavernous dining hall came from the candelabra on their table and from the flickering, amber glow of the fireplaces. The doorway to the entry hall was nothing but a black void. Likewise the kitchen door.
“Just a localized blip,” Les assured them. “Our power goes off like this all the time when there’s a storm. It usually comes back on again in a second.”
But it didn’t come back on again in a second.
Des went over to the windows and looked outside, shielding her eyes with a hand. “I don’t want to alarm anyone, but I don’t see a single light on anywhere in Dorset. Or across the river in Old Saybrook or Essex.”
“It’s the ice storm,” Mitch said. “The trees can’t handle the extra weight, not when there’s this kind of wind. It can split them down the middle.”
“And right down onto the power lines,” Des added grimly. “This looks bad. Very bad.”
“Poor Jory is stuck down in the wine cellar,” Norma suddenly realized. “I’d best take her a flashlight.”
“I can do that,” offered Spence.
“You’d better let me,” Les said. “Those old cellar stairs are tricky, Spence. You might fall and hurt yourself.”
As Les started for the kitchen, candelabrum in hand, Norma began lighting the candles that were set on the other tables.
Over by the windows, a pager started beeping.
“That’s me,” Des said. “I need to check in.”
“I’m afraid the phones will likely be out, too,” Norma told her.
“It’s okay, I’ve got my cell.” Des grabbed a candle, excused herself and retreated in the direction of the taproom.
Now Mitch heard a door slam somewhere, followed by heavy footsteps. Someone with a powerful flashlight came clumping into the dining room from the kitchen. It was Jase. The shy caretaker was covered with ice and panting so hard for breath that the key chain on his belt was jangling like a tambourine. “There’s… there are…” He could not get the words out, he was so agitated.
“What’s happened, dear?” Norma asked him gently. “Go ahead and tell us. Speak right up.”
“It’s the t-trees!” he stammered. “They’re coming down all over the place!”
“Why, it’s a miracle,” Carly exclaimed in mock astonishment. “The furnace monkey spoke an entire sentence.” She didn’t say this to anyone in particular, but she did say it loud enough for Jase to hear. The offhanded cruelty of her remark stunned Mitch.
Jase, too. He peered at her with a surprised, hurt look on his furry face before he turned back to Norma and said, “Is… Jory okay? Where is she?”
“In the cellar, dear. She was fetching a bottle of wine when the power went out. Les has gone down with a light to find her.”
They heard footsteps in the kitchen now and Les appeared in the doorway, candelabrum in hand. “You’ll never guess who I found wandering around in the laundry room.”
“Where is she?” Jase asked him anxiously.
“Right here, sweetie.” Jory appeared next to Les in the candlelight, giggling. “I seem to have taken a wrong turn somewhere.”
“But you’re okay?” Jase moved over toward her, acting very protective.
“Of course. Not to worry.”
Outside, another tree landed with a thud.
“Folks, we may be in the dark for a while,” Les informed them. “There’s a supply of hurricane lamps and flashlights at the front desk. If you’ll follow me, I can hand them out.”
“We’re all yours,” Teddy said gamely. “Lead on.”
“Mitch, may I borrow your elbow?” Ada asked, clutching him by his right arm.
“Absolutely,” he said, as someone else grabbed his left hand.
“I’m afraid of the dark,” Carly explained, her hand small and cold in his. “It turns me into a snarling bitch. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t. But Jase might beg to differ.”
The three of them followed Les and his candelabrum through the blackened entry hall. As they passed the taproom, he could hear Des in there talking on her cell phone.
At the front desk Jory produced a tray filled with kerosene lanterns. She swiftly fired up enough of them for everyone, bathing the three-story entry hall in a golden glow. She also pulled out a carton of flashlights. Les, meanwhile, checked the telephone at the reception desk. The line was dead.
From upstairs, a male voice roared, “Will someone kindly tell me what the devil is going on?! It’s pitch-black up here!”
“That would be our red-meat American,” Ada observed dryly.
“The storm has knocked out our power, Aaron!” Les hollered up to him.
“I have no lights up here!”
“No one does!” Norma called out. “It may get a tad nippy, too, but we’ll just have to muddle through!”
Muddling through was something that Mitch had gotten quite used to. Out on Big Sister, he lost power pretty much every time they had an electrical storm. On at least a half dozen occasions, he’d gone without power for twenty-four hours. And the darkness was actually the least of it. Without electricity the well pump couldn’t produce water and the fuel pump couldn’t feed the furnace. That meant no water, hot or cold, and no heat-which was why Norma had said it might get a tad nippy. Try frozen.
“Stay where you are, son!” she called to Aaron as he started down the stairs to them. “I shall bring you a light!”
“Surely you have a back-up generator for this type of situation,” Aaron blustered as Norma met him on the winding stairs, clutching two lanterns. “They sell the damned things at Home Depot.”
“We did have a diesel generator,” Les acknowledged. “But our guests complained about the stink and the noise. They prefer to go without. We’ve got plenty of firewood. The kitchen stove runs on gas. And our stereo system can run on batteries.”
“Oh, goodie,” Ada cracked.
“Besides, it’s a bit of an adventure,” Les added. “People think it’s fun.”
“Fun?” fumed Aaron. “Freezing to death in the dark is not my idea of fun!”
Mitch went over to the big front door and flung it open, shining his flashlight out into the blackness of the howling night. What the flashlight beam revealed was a shimmering, bejeweled world unlike any he’d ever seen before. A gleaming layer of ice had coated every single exposed surface. Every branch, every path, every stone. And the frozen pellets continued to hammer down as the raging winds whipped and tossed the trees out beyond the parking lot, snapping their frozen limbs like bread sticks and slamming them to the ground with horrifying force.
“God, how I wish I had this on film,” marveled Ada, gazing out at it in wide-eyed wonderment.
Des appeared behind them now in the doorway, wearing her game face.
“What have we got, Master Sergeant?” Mitch asked.
“A T-l emergency, that’s what,” she reported crisply. “Power lines down all over the state. As many as a half million people are without electricity. Most surface roads are impassable. The major highways are skating rinks. They’re shutting the airports down. The governor’s about to declare a state of emergency.”
“I don’t get it,” Mitch said. “The weatherman said that this storm would be passing out to sea way south of us.”
“Mitch, the weatherman was wrong.”
“Any idea when it’s supposed to let up?” Spence asked her apprehensively.
“By dawn. It’s supposed to get very cold. And then it’s supposed to snow-another six to ten inches.”
“But I’ve got Hollywood celebrities flying in tomorrow,” Spence protested.
“I very much doubt that anyone will be flying in tomorrow,” Des told him.
“You mean the entire event might be canceled?” Les was utterly distraught. “This can’t be. It just can’t. We’ve ordered tons of food and liquor. We’ve taken on extra staff…”
“You’ll be reimbursed,” Spence promised him. “The studio will make good on it.”
“It’s not the money,” Les insisted. “Ada was really looking forward to this.”
“I was not.” She growled. “You were.”
“We all were,” Les said. “This is a big, big event for us.”
“Les, if people can’t get here then they can’t get here,” Norma said to him patiently. “We must accept it.”
Des fetched her shearling coat from the coatroom, climbed into it and started for the door, her hood up, a flashlight in hand.
“Wait, where are you going?” Mitch asked her.
“When there’s a T-l, every available trooper goes on emergency assistance detail. That’s why they paged me. I have to find out whether I can get out of here or not.”
“May I come, too, Des?” Ada asked excitedly.
Des looked at the old woman in surprise. “Why would you want to do that, Ada?”
“I want to be out in it.”
“You’d better not. You might slip and fall.”
“Nonsense.”
“Please, Mother, it’s not safe.” Norma took her firmly by the arm and ushered her away from the door. “Just think what would happen if you broke a hip.”
“Such a frightened little mouse you are,” Ada sniffed at her. “But you always have been, haven’t you?”
“Whatever you say, Mother,” Norma responded wearily.
“Hang on, I’m coming with you,” Mitch told Des as he went for his parka.
“No, you absolutely aren’t,” she insisted. “This is a work thing, Mitch. I can’t put you or anyone else at risk. But send out the dogs if I’m not back in five minutes.” She flashed her mega-wattage smile at him, then headed out, her long lean body hunched into the howling wind.
Mitch watched her make her way down the icy stones of the front path. She slipped and slid but stayed on her feet. She was lithe and nimble. Careful, too. Still, he kept watch over her, her flashlight growing steadily dimmer as she made her way farther and farther out into the stormy darkness.
“I’ve never been in a blackout before,” Hannah said, her voice quavering with fear. “It feels kind of like the end of the world.”
“It’s certainly the end of mine,” Spence said heavily. “I don’t know what to tell the West Coast.”
“You Americans are so spoiled,” Ada said reproachfully. “It’s a power outage. The French get them so often they don’t even bother to light candles. They just find someone to make love to.”
“Typical French behavior,” Aaron said sourly.
Des had made her way across the drawbridge now. Mitch could just make out their iced-up cars in the distant beam of her flashlight.
“Why do you right-wingers all hate the French so much?” Ada wondered. “Is it because they know how to enjoy life and you don’t?”
“No, it’s because they’re spineless.”
She let out a mocking laugh. “You didn’t exactly sound like Monsieur Spiny yourself just now when the lights went out. You sounded like a scared little girl crying for her mommy. Norma had to come rescue you.”
“Grandmother, I’ve had just about enough of you tonight,” Aaron shot back. “Kindly leave me the hell alone, will you?”
“No, please don’t, Ada,” Carly begged her. “This is the most fun I’ve had in months.”
“Me, I’ve been through three New York City blackouts,” Teddy said. “Know what? They’ve checked out the birth records, and it’s amazing just how many babies were born nine months to the day after each of them. Which is to say, old girl, that the French don’t have the market cornered on l’amour.”
Des’s flashlight beam was growing brighter now. She was starting back across the drawbridge toward them.
As she made her way closer, Mitch called out, “How is it?”
“We can’t get out!” she called back, darting under the castle’s covered entryway. Her hood and shoulders were crusted with ice. Droplets of water had beaded on her face and glasses. “There are two huge trees down right at the top of the driveway, completely blocking it.”
“Those must be Astrid’s sycamores,” Norma said, her voice heavy. “She planted them there more than seventy-five years ago. They were quite lovely and spectacular, poor things.”
“How are the power lines?” Les asked.
“Don’t know. Couldn’t see them.” Des shook the ice off of her coat outside, then came back in, slamming the big door behind her.
Mitch took the coat from her and gave her his handkerchief for her glasses. “What are you going to tell the barracks?”
“That they’ll have to cover for me. I’m stranded up here.”
“They can’t send someone to come get you?”
She shook her head. “They’ll be stretched thin for bodies as is. Can’t spare other troopers just to come get me.” Clearly, Des was not happy about this fact. She wanted to be out there doing her job.
“Well, that settles that,” Spence declared decisively. He yanked his cell phone from the breast pocket of his camel’s hair blazer and hit the speed dial button. “Hi, it’s me… No, everything is not okay. We’ve got a natural disaster here.”
“I’d better warn Wolf Blitzer’s people,” Aaron said, reaching for his own cell phone. “I was supposed to do his show tomorrow. They’re sending up a cameraman.”
Des got busy phoning in as well. The sudden flurry of cellular activity reminded Mitch of a herd of commuters at Grand Central after Metro North has announced a train delay.
“Mitch, I was kidding around with you earlier,” Les said. “But it looks like you and Des will be staying over with us.”
“Looks like. Not a bad place to be stranded for the night, if you ask me.”
“We’re happy to have you. And just so there’s no confusion, you’re our guests, not paying customers.” Les pulled him aside, lowering his voice discreetly. “But being an innkeeper does mean you have to get rather personal sometimes. What I mean is, one room or two?”
“One, please.”
“Fine, fine.” Les went behind the reception counter, poked around and presented him with a pair of keys to room six. “Norma can fix you kids up with toothbrushes. And Jase will fetch you extra firewood and blankets. You should be cozy enough until morning. I’m sure the power will be back on by then.”
“Dunno, Les,” Jase said softly. “Last time this many trees came down it was three, four days before the crews got to us.”
“Did your pipes freeze?” Mitch asked him.
“Would have, if I hadn’t bled them,” Jase replied.
Les said, “Mitch, if you’d like a nightcap, the taproom should stay pretty snug for a while. But if I were you, I’d go up and get a fire started in your room.”
Mitch glanced at his watch. It was not yet ten, but the darkness had a way of making it seem a lot later. “Sounds like a plan.”
“I’ll clear the table,” Jory informed Les briskly. “I can cram everything in the dishwasher until morning.” To Jase she said, “Sweetie, you’d better…”
“Firewood, right.” Jase went tromping back toward the kitchen, lantern in hand.
By now Des was done phoning in. Norma unlocked the gift shop for them and filled an Astrid’s Castle tote bag with travel toothbrushes and toothpaste, bottles of mineral water and matching Kelly green Astrid’s Castle flannel nightshirts, size extra large. Also a disposable razor and shave cream for Mitch in case there was hot water by morning.
“If you need anything else, anything at all, do let us know,” Norma said. “Shall I show you up to your room?”
“We can find it, thanks,” Des said.
They said their good-nights and started up the winding staircase together, their lanterns casting a soft glow in the darkness. Des had her shoulder bag thrown over her left shoulder. Mitch had been involved with her long enough to know that her SIG-Sauer and her shield were in there. She had to keep them with her at all times. If she left them unattended somewhere, anywhere, they could be stolen. Mitch remained amazed that he’d gotten mixed up with a woman who was always armed.
“Sorry about this,” he said to her as they climbed. “I know you want to be out there, making sure people are safe. And instead you’re trapped in this castle with a family of feuding crazy people.”
“No big. It reminds me of Thanksgiving dinner at my Aunt Georgia Mae’s. The only difference with this bunch is that nobody’s throwing punches. Not yet, anyway.”
“Still, it’s my fault that you’re stuck here.”
“Mitch, I’m glad I came. And way glad I met Ada. She’s special. But you’re right, I do feel like I ought to be out there.”
“Same here. I’m worried about Mrs. Enman and Tootie and Rut. They all live alone. They could freeze to death and nobody would know.”
“I just spoke to First Selectman Paffin. The Center School emergency shelter will be up and running by midnight. We have a plan in place for dealing with the elderly. I’ll make sure your three are on the watch list. The fire department can get them to the shelter if they have to.”
“Thanks. I’d hate for anything to happen to them.”
“It won’t. I promise.”
“Did you reach Bella?”
“Our phone’s out, and she refuses to get a cell. I’ll keep trying her.”
“I put down plenty of food for the cats. They’ll be okay by themselves, right?”
“They’ll make you pay for being somewhere else, but they’ll be fine.”
“I wish I felt as confident about my houses out there. All I keep thinking about is trees crashing down, roofs caving in, pipes freezing. I’m responsible for that whole island.”
“Mitch, you’re not responsible for the weather. Besides, Big Sister has withstood a lot of pounding over the years. Compared to a hurricane, this is nothing.”
The darkened second-floor hallway felt genuinely spooky as they started their way along it with their lanterns, the carpeted floorboards creaking softly underfoot. Those old photos of the celebrated long-dead looming there on the walls certainly didn’t help.
“I am starting to get definite vibes from The Shining,” Mitch had to confess. “If I see a pair of identical twin girls standing together at the end of the hallway, I’m spending the night out in my truck.” In fact, all he could make out was a glass-paned door reflecting their lantern lights back at them. “Where does that go?”
“To the tower, and please don’t tell me you want to go up there.”
“Not even a chance.”
“Could you believe Ada wanted to go outside with me?”
“Des, she flew a plane solo when she was sixteen. That’s who she is. If she ever changed, she’d shrivel up and die.”
Their room was the third door on the right. Mitch unlocked it and set his lantern on the mantel, gazing around. It was cozy and charming, with a huge old oak bedstead. Des took her lantern into the bathroom and deposited their gift-shop loot in there. The room was already plenty cold, so Mitch immediately got busy building a fire.
“I wonder what they use for kindling around here,” he muttered, pawing through the wood basket in vain.
Someone tapped on their door. It was Jase, wearing a hiker’s headlamp over his knit cap so that both hands were free to hold canvas carriers of firewood. He looked like a miner standing out there in the darkened hallway.
“Just the man I wanted to see,” said Mitch, as the squatly built caretaker dumped more logs in their wood basket. “I can’t find any kindling.”
“We don’t use it here. Too much of a fire hazard. Here…” Jase reached a rough hand into the pocket of his wool overshirt and gave Mitch a sealed plastic packet of something called Firestarter 2. Inside, there was a shapeless blob that distinctly resembled earwax. “Don’t open it. Just light the whole packet.”
“What’s this stuff made out of?”
“Man, you don’t want to know. You folks need any extra blankets?”
“You won’t hear me saying no,” Des answered sweetly.
Jase went and opened a vacant room and came back with two heavy wool ones. Des thanked him and got busy piling them onto the bed. Outside, another tree gave way under the weight of the ice and crashed to the ground.
“Will you and Jory be okay tonight?” Mitch asked Jase, who’d retreated back out into the hall.
“Shoot, yeah. Got us a couple of kerosene space heaters out in the cottage. We’ll be fine. Have yourselves a good night.”
“Back at you, Jase,” Mitch said, closing the door after him. “He’s a nice guy. I couldn’t believe Carly called him a monkey right to his face.”
“She called him a what?”
“What’s that woman’s problem anyway?”
“Aaron brought his mistress here for the weekend. She’s totally bugging.”
“Are we talking about Hannah?”
“We are.”
“So that explains the evil eye Carly was giving her during dinner.” Mitch set the packet of Firestarter 2 under the logs he’d stacked in the fireplace and lit a match to it. The waxy blob flamed blue, much like a can of Sterno. Actually, it smelled a lot like Sterno. Whatever it was, it worked-the logs caught quickly and began to crackle. Mitch sat back on his ample haunches and watched them. “Carly’s a lot more crush-worthy, if you ask me.”
“She’s also a lot older than Aaron,” Des said from the bathroom, where she was already brushing her teeth. She got ready for bed faster than any woman he’d ever known.
“Really? How much older?”
“Sorry. Girls never tell on each other.”
“Why is that?”
“Because we have to trust one another. We sure can’t put any faith in our husbands.”
“Hey, I resent that. It so happens I was a husband once.”
“My bad. But that woman has taken just about all she can handle, Mitch. Aaron’s a total raw dog.”
“He’s a mess is what he is,” Mitch said, piling two more logs onto the fire. “A classic case of the Pip Syndrome.”
“The wha-a-a…?” She was gargling with mineral water now.
“His dad was a real dynamic person, sounds like. And we know his grandmother is. So he’s always carried around this weight of great expectations. Aaron is desperate to prove to everyone, particularly Ada, that he matters. But, believe me, when he looks in the mirror he doesn’t see a man who matters. He sees an overweight geek who couldn’t get a date to the prom. I feel sorry for him, actually. That is not a happy camper.”
“Your toothbrush awaits you, m’lord,” Des informed him, padding back barefoot from the bathroom in one of their Astrid’s Castle nightshirts, her trousers thrown over one arm.
Mitch gaped at her as she moved around the room. He couldn’t help it. The merest glimpse at the way that flannel was clinging to her incomparable booty was enough to send his engine racing right into the red zone. His mouth went dry, his palms tingled. A vein began to throb in his forehead. “Tell me,” he croaked, “why did you drop your napkin on the floor?”
“I was checking to see if Aaron and Hannah were playing footsie under the table,” she replied, draping her trousers neatly over the desk chair.
“And were they?”
“They weren’t.”
“Interesting. You don’t suppose Carly’s imagining this whole thing, do you? Because Hannah hardly seems like… Freeze frame, was someone else playing footsie?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” Des pulled back the covers on the bed and dived in, shivering and whooping. “God, it is freeeezing in here!”
“Well, who was it? Give it up.”
“Not until you get your hot bod in here with me. Come on, move your pink butt. Your girlfriend needs warming up.”
Mitch needed no more in the way of encouragement. Quickly, he brushed his teeth, tore off his own clothes and joined her. Des’s teeth were chattering, her hands and feet like ice. She snuggled close, one incredibly long, smooth leg thrown over him, her head on his chest. As Mitch held her there under the mountain of covers, warming her, he watched the reflection of the flames dance across the ceiling and walls. He listened to the storm rage outside. And he remembered to be happy. Happy he was sharing this moment with her. Happy that she was such a big part of his life.
And here is what Mitch was thinking: If only we could stay like this forever. If only things didn’t have to change. If only WE didn’t have to change. But we do, we do…
“So talk,” he said to her. “Give it up.”
“It was Norma and Teddy.”
“No way.”
“Yes way. Norma’s stocking toes were in Teddy’s lap.”
“So the two of them are…?”
“You now know as much as I do.”
“Des, can I tell you something I’m not very proud of?”
Her eyes met his slowly in the firelight. “Mitch, you can tell me anything.”
“I have trouble picturing two people that age having sex together. I mean, they’re as old as my parents.”
“Well, you’d better start picturing it,” she chided him. “Because you’re going to be that age yourself one day, and I expect you to be having sex with me regularly and with great…” She drew back from him suddenly. “God, shoot me right now. I can’t believe what just came out of my girl hole.”
“Which was…?”
“That what we have going is… that we might still be together in thirty years. Or thirty days. Make that thirty minutes. I had no business going there. Forget you ever heard it. Erase it from your hard drive, will you?”
“It’s a duh-deal…” Suddenly, Mitch had great difficulty swallowing. That same damned melon-sized lump had formed in his throat. “You’re awfully funny sometimes, know that?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m a regular Henry Youngman.”
“It’s Henny Yuh-youngman,” he gulped.
Now she was glaring at him in the firelight. Here it was-Her Wary, Scary Look. “Mitch, have you got something you want to say to me?” she demanded stiffly.
“Absolutely not. Why would you suh-say that?”
“No… reason.” Her eyes widened with alarm. She’d started breathing in ragged, uneven gasps. Plus her entire body was clenched tight.
“Des, is something wrong?”
“Absolutely… not. Why would… you… ask me that?”
“No reason.”
“It’s just… I’m still cold, that’s all.” She raised her nightshirt over her head and flung it aside. “Why don’t you see what you can do about it?”
“You sure you’re…?”
“I’m fine,” she purred, her naked body taut and elastic against his, her flesh satiny.
He closed his eyes and buried his nose in the long, sweet hollow of her throat, inhaling the spicy fragrance that made him dizzy with longing.
“Ada likes my work,” she whispered after a moment, her breath warm on his face. “She thinks I’m gifted.”
“She’s right, you are.”
“But she wants me to get out of the academy. She thinks they’ll try to control me.”
“She’s right again.”
“How will I know when it’s time to go?”
“You just will. It’s an instinct, kind of like this…” He kissed her gently on the mouth, feeling her lips soften and flower under his.
And so they made love together like a couple of eskimos, burrowed deep under all of those covers as the fire warmed their room and the wind howled and the ice pellets smacked against the windows. It was a different kind of lovemaking from what Mitch had ever experienced with Des Mitry. She clung to him with a passion that very nearly overwhelmed him with its urgency. He wasn’t sure whether it was to do with the storm, being trapped here. Or if it was about him and that damned lump that kept clogging up his voice box every time he tried to tell her the thing he needed to tell her. They didn’t discuss it. Didn’t talk at all after that. Just drifted off to sleep, safe and snug together.
The sound of another big tree coming down woke Mitch sometime during the night. He didn’t know what time it was, but the fire had burned down to glowing coals by then, and the room was frigid. As he lay there, Des fast asleep next to him, Mitch thought he heard footsteps up above them on the third floor. The floorboards creaked. But it must have been the castle itself creaking in the wind. Because who would be walking around up there in the middle of the night in the dark?
He slid out of bed and piled more logs on the fire and made sure they caught. Then he dived back in, shivering.
Des stirred, semi-awake. “Wha…?”
“Just feeding the fire. Go back to sleep. I’m sure the power will be back on by morning.”
But he was wrong. When they woke up in the morning, the power wasn’t back on.
And there was one other development that was even more troubling:
Not everyone in the place woke up.