Toot, toot, goes the ferry’s horn the next morning.
Toot, toot“Good, he’s brought our supplies,” Mom says.
Rita slips on her sandals. “Last load. This should hold us the few days we have left.”
We all go down except for Mary Beth and Riley. And Mittens.
Heather and Sarah Beth are pouting since they slept through the cat excitement last night. This makes me happy.
“There’s a big storm brewing off the coast,” the ferry captain announces when we walk down to the dock. “Hurricane Adele, they’re calling it. Weather bureau is telling people they need to evacuate the islands and low-lying areas.”
“We’ve decided to stay,” Rita says. “This old house has weathered storms before, and we have a generator. We’ll be fine.”
He shakes his head and says something low. Midwesterner, I think. “You’re
