Part Eighteen

(Note: This is the last of the three-part "Weekend in Westport" episode.)


The rain began just as Raoul, Peggy and Fran were finishing their fish dinner around the fire on Saturday night. They rushed their trays inside, then Raoul gathered up the chairs and cooking racks from the fire pit while Peggy washed the dishes. Afterwards they sat in the living room and finished the wine while the rain beat hard against the large plate glass windows. Peggy could see the glass vibrating. She went to the window and looked out and saw the dune grasses flattened by the strong winds.

"It'll blow over," said Raoul.

Rainstorms in the Northwest often do end as quickly as they begin, especially in summer, but this one persisted. The three of them sat together quietly, listening to the wind.

"I'm so glad you're here," said Fran. "I would hate to be alone on a night like this."

Raoul yawned. "You can turn some music on if you need a distraction."

"Good idea," said Peggy. She got up and fished among the few recordings that were stacked on a shelf and settled on Frank Sinatra. It occurred to Peggy that 'Stella by Starlight' sounded unusually melancholy against a backdrop of driving rain and howling wind.

A few hours later, Peggy woke up in a dark room feeling raindrops on her face. Above her a window had been pushed open by the wind; it was the kind of window that swung inward on hinges. Everything seemed out of place, the darkness, the window. She knew that her bedroom in Ballard, where she had lived with her late husband, Taylor, for thirty years, did not have a window above the bed like that. Then she remembered, of course, she had moved to Bainbridge Island, but neither did her room there did have a window in that spot. She wiped the raindrops from her face. Right, she was in Westport with Raoul. She had been having a dream. She was in a sleeping bag with Raoul on a beach and she didn't know whether his name was Taylor or Raoul. Then it rained on them and he zipped up the bag and he felt very warm and she was glad to have him next to her.

Peggy disrupted the dream with a shake of her head. She got up to close the window but when she placed her foot on the floor she felt cold water. Slosh. She gasped. The room was flooded. Peggy knelt on the bed to close the window. Then she leaned over to grope for the floor with her hands in the darkness. About an inch or two of water. It felt sandy. She touched her fingers to her mouth. Saltwater. What had become of Raoul and Fran?

Peggy removed her socks and tiptoed across the flooded floor and went into the hallway. It, too, was filled with water. She went to Fran's room and opened the door. Fran was still sleeping. Peggy went to Raoul's room and shook him. It felt strange to touch him while he was sleeping. What would he think? She wished she had brought a robe.

"What is it?" He sat up quickly.

"The house is flooded."

"What?" He jumped out of bed. Peggy heard him sloshing across the room and saw his outline in the doorway. "Wake up Fran. We have to leave."

Fran sat in bed and cried when Peggy explained what had happened. Raoul came to the door. "It's worse than I thought. Come see this."

Peggy held Fran around the shoulders and led her down the hallway. With each step, Fran muttered something about her carpet being ruined. In the living room, where they had sat and drank wine and listened to Frank Sinatra a few hours earlier, the three of them stopped and stared. Fran cried hysterically. The Pacific Ocean had broken over the dune and flooded the house. They were standing in sea water.

Even though Fran's house was built off the ground, enough water had spilled over to reach up to the lower part of the house and cover the floors. Peggy went to the front window and stared into the gray light. No beach, no dune, just water. It was like they were adrift at sea.

Raoul went to the back window and said, "Both cars are submerged."

"What should we do?" asked Fran, tears streaming down her cheeks. "There's no power and no heat."

Raoul turned on a portable radio. They immediately heard news of widespread flooding up and down the coast. A couple of shelters had been set up at churches and community centers.

"We have the canoe. We could paddle to high ground and then try to catch a ride to a shelter."

"Do you have an attic?" asked Peggy.

"We do," said Raoul. "It's dry, but there's no heat."

"Do you have sleeping bags?"

Fran wiped her tears. "Yes. Thank goodness Sid always kept them up on a shelf, in this closet right here." She opened a door. "They're dry," she said proudly. "And we have extra blankets."

Raoul said, "Are you thinking we should try to stay here until daylight?"

"I think it would be safer," said Peggy. "You don't know what's in these waters. And what if we got lost? All of the usual landmarks are underwater."

"Good thinking," he said, giving her a little hug.

They climbed a ladder to the attic and Raoul spread out the bags and blankets while Peggy stood and shivered. She helped Fran get into her sleeping bag and then Peggy slid in next to Raoul.

"I hope you don't mind," she said, "I need warmth."

"Mind? We should get shipwrecked more often."

Peggy giggled as she pressed her body against his.

The three of them hardly slept. Between the hard floor and the cold and the thoughts of rising ocean water beneath them they couldn't do much more than stare at the rafters that held up the roof. Peggy listened to the creaking and groaning of the house as it shifted and she imagined it floating out to sea.

When it was light they heard voices calling out. Raoul ran down the ladder and leaned out of a window and talked to someone who had come by in a boat to check on them. Within a half hour they had gathered up some clothing and a few essentials and were in a rowboat heading to dry land. Fran could not stop sobbing at the sight of her partially submerged house as they rowed away from it.

Most of Sunday was spent traveling back to the Seattle by bus. There was not much to be done with the beach house until the flood waters receded. Raoul took care of notifying Fran's insurance company. The day was clear and sunny but they sat glumly in their seats during the journey. From the bus station in Seattle they took a taxi to Fran's house. Raoul borrowed Sid's old car and drove himself and Peggy back to Bainbridge Island on the ferry.

They sat in their usual seat on the left aisle. Peggy leaned against Raoul and closed her eyes. He put his arm around her. She felt bad for Fran and her beach house full of memories, and she tried to focus her brain on ways that she could help. But mostly her thoughts were on Raoul and the realization that it would be okay to start a new relationship with someone. She was not afraid of liking him. Or even loving him.