“Well, you might as well come in,” Liza said finally. “I guess you’ll have to stay awhile.”
If not the entire night.
“How long does it take for the water to recede?” he asked.
Liza shrugged. “It all depends on the weather conditions and the tide.”
“High tide is around nine tonight. I just read it in the paper,” Peter said. “With all this rain and wind, I doubt the bridge will open until one or even two in the morning.”
“We can call the gatehouse and find out,” Claire said. “I have the phone number in the kitchen.”
There was a chance that the water would clear up by midnight or so, Liza thought. But not much of a chance. It seemed like she was stuck with Jeff, whether she liked it or not.
A short time later, they all sat down to an early dinner by candlelight-sandwiches and more soup. Luckily, the gas range was not affected by the power outage, and the meal was perfect for the rainy night.
Jeff was on his best behavior, Liza noticed. He was pretty quiet and only spoke when spoken to. He was probably afraid that given the way things were going for him today, she might toss him out in the storm. She had given it a thought.
After dinner it was too early to go up to bed, though the storm still raged outside and there seemed no possibility of the power coming back.
Jeff called the gatehouse at the bridge from his cell phone, though they all knew it was a lost cause.
“Still closed. They doubt it will open until the morning.”
“You have to stay over, I guess,” Liza said. “It’s all right, we have plenty of room.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Jeff tried to catch her eye, but she looked away.
“I’ll make up a room for you,” Claire said.
“I’ll help,” Liza offered, looking for an excuse to go upstairs.
“That’s all right. I just need to put sheets on a bed. Everything else is ready.”
As if she had already guessed someone would be staying over tonight, Liza thought. How did Claire know these things? Liza decided that one day she would have to ask her.
“Why don’t we play a board game or something?” Peter suggested. Will groaned and covered his face with his hand, but Peter ignored him. “I saw some in the parlor; I’ll get them.”
Liza felt uncomfortable once Peter left. But at least Will was still there.
Jeff smiled at her. “What a storm. It’s like a full-blown hurricane.”
“Not quite,” Liza answered. “But the island is out in the open. The storms in the spring hit very hard.”
“I’m sorry I had to come back,” he said. “I know you weren’t happy to see me.”
Liza shrugged. “You’re here now. There’s nothing we can do about it. Let’s just get through the evening, okay?”
He nodded. “Okay, Liza. Whatever you say.”
Peter returned with an armful of board games. After some debate, they decided to play Scrabble.
It took a round or two to identify the best players at the table. Liza was not bad but not exactly a top contender. Neither was Jeff, and after a short time, he excused himself and went upstairs with a flashlight, planning to read in his room.
Claire was very good, Liza noticed, the best at the table. While Peter and Will argued over the rules, she would sit quietly, fiddling with her tiles. And then when her turn came, she would invariably lay down a high-scoring word.
“Zydeco…” Claire said, carefully placing her tiles and racking up over thirty points in one blow.
As the game wound down, it was easy to see that Claire would win by a wide margin. Peter and Will continued to battle it out for second place with fierce, competitive energy that seemed distinctly male, Liza thought. Or perhaps it was some father-son dynamic.
She suddenly remembered why she hated playing board games with her brother. It wasn’t just that he was older and usually more skillful than she was. It was that he took them so seriously and was so focused on winning. Will seemed to be putting up with it and even giving Peter some of his own medicine back. But Peter was gloating at every chance, and that could get on anyone’s nerves after a while.
At first it was great to watch Will having fun, without the benefit of his iPod, cell phone, or computer. But as the game drew to a close and the tension level rose, he started to sink into a mood. Finally, her nephew and brother were down to one tile each, with Will several points ahead of Peter.
Will had a K and could find no spot to place it. Peter had an S, which was much easier to add to almost any word on the board. He soon found the perfect spot, at the end of one of Claire’s doozies-the word quip. And the S just happened to land on a “double word score” square.
“Eureka! Got you, Will. I told you that your old man would beat you. Believe it, buddy.” Peter stood up and made a great show of placing the winning consonant down. “Quips. Q-U-I-P-S. Double word score-I win!”
“Claire won, Peter,” Liza reminded him. “You’re in second place.”
“Whatever,” her brother said, undeterred from his victory.
Even in the dark, Liza could see Will’s face grow red with indignation.
“Let me see that.” He grabbed the board and twisted it around. “Quips? Are you sure that’s a word? I’ve never heard of it.”
Claire put a steadying hand on his shoulder. “It’s a word, Will. But you did very well. Especially for someone who never plays this game. I was very impressed.”
Will didn’t answer. He just stared at the board, his face twisted in disappointment. “That stinks. S-T-I-N-K-S,” he said finally.
“Hey, it’s just a game. I won fair and square, Will. No need to be a sore loser,” Peter told him.
Will tossed his head back. “Right. It’s just a game, Dad. That’s why you’re hopping up and down. Totally dissing me.” Will stood up and flipped the board over, scattering tiles in all directions. “Whoops,” he said, in a tone that clearly communicated this was no accident. “Sorry about that.”
Then he turned and disappeared into the darkness.
“Will, come back here! Where are you going?” Peter called after him.
“Up to bed. All that spelling gave me a headache,” he called back.
“He needs to come back and clean this up,” Peter said, his voice tense.
Liza glanced at Claire, who wore an expression somewhere between sympathy for Will and outright laughter. Peter had been laying it on pretty thick. Maybe he did deserve a little of this bad behavior.
“It’s too dark to find the tiles tonight, Peter. He can clean it up tomorrow,” Liza suggested. “I’m really tired. I’m heading up to bed.”
“Me, too.” Claire rose and picked up her flashlight. “Let’s go up together, we’ll have more light,” she suggested.
They left the room, and Peter soon followed.
Up in her room, Liza quickly prepared for bed. It wasn’t really late, but sitting in the dark for hours had made her sleepy. Or maybe it was all the bike riding in the rain.
As Liza changed into her nightgown, she heard footsteps in the hallway outside her room, going back and forth to the bathroom. Claire had given Jeff a room on the third floor, and Liza was grateful for that. It was bad enough to have him stay overnight. She didn’t need him sleeping in close proximity.
By the time Liza shut off the light and got into bed, the storm seemed to have slowed down. Raindrops still fell against the big window in her room, but the wind seemed quieter. She had not quite fallen asleep when she heard a gentle tapping on her door.
She sat up in bed. “Who is it?”
“It’s me, Jeff,” her ex whispered. “Come to the door.”
Liza sighed out loud. She knew he was going to pull something like this. She had half a mind to make a big scene, but she didn’t want to wake everyone.
“Okay, I’m coming.” But you’re not coming in, pal, she added silently.
Liza pulled on a bathrobe, tied the belt, then went to the door and opened it a crack. Jeff stood in the darkness waiting, still mostly dressed, she was relieved to see. He was barefoot but wearing a white T-shirt and jeans.