Hurricane House by Sandy Semerad Read Free Book Online Page A

was on deadline at the Tallahassee Reaper. Dee had her own breaking news to report: She and Loughton were lovers.
    He’d hired Dee fresh out of college to do his “grunt work” in the Florida House, a seat he won last election. According to this letter, they had grunted together on numerous occasions after Loughton had promised he would fire Dee for making false accusations.
    Roxanne leaned close. “Bad news?”
    “Same old, same old.” Geneva handed Roxanne the letter and said, “Bastard. Insufficient blood supply to the brain and you know what causes that?”
    “Pecker gorge,” Roxanne said; then read the letter while shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Hon. You deserve better.” She hugged Geneva. “You want my advice? Get out now. He’ll never change. Mason says most women divorce their husbands because they don’t change.”
    “He ought to know.”
    “I shouldn’t quote him. I wish I’d never met the jerk. Bet you feel the same about Loughton.” Roxanne squinted at Geneva, as if perplexed. “How did y’all meet anyway? I don’t think you’ve ever told me.”
    “I was covering one of his trials for the newspaper. He was D.A. at the time. After the trial ended, he asked me out. We had four dates, and he wanted to get married. I should have listened to Daddy.”
    “Your dad didn’t want you to marry Loughton?”
    “He thought we should wait, get to know each other before making a life-time leap. Unfortunately, I didn’t listen. I loved Loughton, so...here I am.”
    “You tied the knot that’s strangling you.”
    “Interesting way of putting it.”
    “Was your Dad disappointed you didn’t wait?”
    “He said he respected my decision.” Geneva choked, feeling the stabbing pain of losing her father. “But he didn’t get to walk me down the aisle. He died a month before the wedding.” In a comforting gesture, Roxanne stroked Geneva’s hands. “I’m so sorry, honey. I feel your heartache. I really do. It’s almost like we’re connected somehow.” Roxanne cradled Geneva’s chin. “I know it’s a cliché, but ‘life’s not fair.’ However, I want you to know you can always count on me to listen and help you out whenever and wherever.”
    A flash flood followed another thunder boom. In seconds, water covered their ankles. “Let’s get inside,” Geneva said, opening the French doors.
    Roxanne waved off the invitation. “I’ll see you later. I need a hot bath. Meanwhile, pull yourself together. Promise me you won’t let this Dee-and-Loughton stuff depress you.”
    “I’ve passed that point.”
    “Yeah, right,” Roxanne said, hugging Geneva. “Call me later.”
    After Roxanne left, Geneva wandered aimlessly around the townhouse. Then changed into red sweats, thinking warm clothing would keep her from shivering, and provide a modicum of comfort, but no. She still felt cold, alone and depressed.
    In an effort to break the pall, she called her landline in Tallahassee. After four rings and no answer, Loughton’s outgoing message came on.
    Geneva said after the beep, “Ellen, it’s Geneva, I hope you made it in okay...pick up the phone if you’re there. ”Strange, no answer. Where’s Ellen?
    Geneva needed to talk. She didn’t want to face a hurricane alone, but she couldn’t stand the thought of driving back to Tallahassee in the storm. If only she could forget about leaving here. She had no desire to see Loughton, ever again, and no desire to go back home. Clutching the phone to her ear, Geneva wanted to invite Ellen to the beach, which wasn’t realistic at the moment, of course, with a hurricane in the gulf, but maybe in the near future. Ellen could work in Dolphin on Paradise Isle, cleaning and redecorating the beach place. Geneva hated the existing sterile-vanilla décor: white carpet, white couch, white recliner, white wicker dining-room table and chairs. Only two keepers, the maple entertainment center and the Monet print hanging on the wall. Everything else could go,