“AS HURRICANE FLORENCE continues to dump an unprecedented amount of rain on the Carolinas, emergency crews are working tirelessly to rescue those trapped–“
Molly turned off the television and rolled over, her robe tightening around her legs. Hurricane Florence, day four. Trapped inside the house with three children under ten and a stir-crazy husband. Molly looked at the ceiling and muttered, “Please, don’t let him fix anything else, please. We can’t afford it.”
The first two days had been scary enough to keep everyone in line, but yesterday was rough. The kids were bored and irritable, and her husband was making random and unnecessary home repairs. Worse, he was chomping at the bit to see the storm damage. It was so ghoulish.
Molly rubbed her forehead. Just because the storm hadn’t been bad here didn’t mean we should gawk at our neighbors’ misfortunes.
“Mommy!”
Oh no. They’re up. Molly pulled the covers over her head. “There’s no mommy here.”
A stampede of little feet… the bed groaning as three little bodies jump on it. “Mommy! Stop it!” Small fingers poked at her stomach, her ears, her shoulders. “Mommy, wake up. We want pancakes.”
“There’s no mommy here. Mommy got blown away.”
“Mommy! You’re silly.” Claudia, her oldest daughter, ripped the covers off. “Daddy says it’s safe to go outside.”
“Does daddy?” Molly sat up. “How does daddy know this?”
“He just does.” She cast Molly a look maybe a millimeter shy of outright disrespect. Out of all her children, the Oedipus/Electra complex was the most obvious in Claudia. “He wants to go for a walk to see how high the creek is.”
Like hell he was. The creek hadn’t crested yet. “Hmm. I have a better idea.” She cupped her daughters face with her hand. “Why don’t you take your brother and sister and start going through your clothes. People have lost everything and we should share with them.”
Blue eyes, the color of her father’s, gazed back at her. “Why did they lose everything?”
“Because. Florence brought a lot of rain… there’s flooding. Bad flooding. We need to help them.”
Claudia’s expression turned thoughtful as her brother crawled beside her. “Mommy, look! A safety pin!”
“Where did that come from?” Molly snatched the pin away and placed it on the nightstand. “Okay, people–” her youngest, Petra, interrupted by wrapping her arms around her neck and kissing her cheek “–good morning, to you, too. How’s this? I’ll make pancakes as you start to go through your closets. Anything you don’t want, put in a pile, and we’ll go through it.”
“Can you make chocolate chip pancakes?” Claudia asked, smiling, despite herself.
“Yep.” Molly beeped her nose. “Now get busy.”
With lightening speed, her three children hopped off the bed and ran to their rooms. Molly stood up and stretched. At least they hadn’t wasted money on a hotel.
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3TC September 16, 2018: safety pin, hotel, bathrobe
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Liz Charnes 