That was true, it could very well happen. It actually had happened to my brother when he’d been working here for a half a year.
However, there was now a shotgun underneath the counter, so if something did occur, I’d at least be armed.
Mama Moring didn’t fuck around when it came to the safety of her employees.
“It’ll be okay,” I said. “What…oh shit.”
I hurried around the counter and looked in horror at the rain that was coming down, and the water that was starting to creep closer and closer to the door.
“Uh, oh,” she groaned. “That’s my signal to get the hell out of here. I have to drive through this shit to get home.”
Hadley lived over an hour away and drove in every day to go to school and clinicals. She worked as a waitress at Cracker Barrel and still lived at home with her parents.
She was a hot mess, and she was an even worse driver.
“Get out of here, but be careful on the way home, okay?” I caught hold of her arm. “And remember that just because it doesn’t look that deep doesn’t mean it won’t sweep your car away. Text me when you get there!”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mom.”
I held the door open for her, and ignored the way the buzzer that indicated the door had been opened continued to chime.
I watched as she ran to her car, her feet sloshing through about four inches of water that was now covering the entire parking lot.
Oh hell, it was also covering the road.
If this rain continued like this—and it was likely that it would since the weatherman said we’d be getting another eight days of rain—it could definitely turn into something that had the potential to be catastrophic.
My thoughts strayed to Tommy and his driveway.
Poor guy.
I would hate to pay all of that money just to watch my driveway wash away like his was doing.
Then again, if it continued to rain, Mama Moring would be dealing with a flooded store and the loss of all her inventory.
Mother Nature really didn’t have a care in the world…the bitch.
***
“I’m closing the store,” I told Mama Moring. “If I don’t, I won’t be able to get home, and to be honest, there hasn’t been a single customer in the store for over four hours. Plus, my mom was called in to work, and Dad’s busy with the dogs. If I don’t leave now, there’ll be nobody to watch Tallulah.”
“That’s fine, darlin’,” Mama Moring said with her raspy smoker’s voice. “I’ll get there in the morning…see what I can do.”
There wouldn’t be anything she could do. In fact, it was unlikely that she would even be able to get here in the morning.
If she was smart—which she was—she’d stay her happy ass on her front porch and watch the water go by.
She’d be one of the few who would be able to stay in their homes since she was up on the highest hill in Mooresville.
My family, however, was not that lucky. We were on one of the lowest lying properties in the entire area. If it flooded—which it was already doing—our place would be one of the first places to go under.
“all right, Mama Moring. Call me if you need anything.”
She hummed in understanding and then hung up on a hacking cough without saying goodbye.
Shaking my head, I waited, bouncing from foot-to-foot, for my mother to get here with Tallulah.
Then an idea struck me, and I grinned because sometimes I was so smart.
Grabbing my purse, I ran outside to my car and practically dove inside once I got the door open.
Starting the 4-Runner up once I was situated, I backed out of my parking spot, right up to the gas pump.
If I had to wait, I might as well get gas, you know, just in case.
Five minutes later, my gas tank was nearing the thirty-dollar mark when my mother pulled up with Tallulah in tow.
I waved at her through the glass, and smiled at my mom when she pulled up on the opposite side of the gas pumps.
“Hey, baby,” my mom called. “You going straight home?”
I nodded. “I am,” I confirmed.
She went to Tallulah’s side and unbuckled her from her seat while Tallulah chattered up a storm about Doc.
I assumed she was referring to Doc McStuffins, but what did I know?
Most of it I couldn’t quite comprehend, but I got the gist as she said “Doc”, “up-up”, and “mine” in the same sentence.
“I take it you let her enjoy her show the entire day?” I teased my mother.
Mom shrugged.
“It was raining. What else is she supposed to do? Tear up my house and break my things?”
I snorted.
“You’re terrible,” I rolled my eyes.
“I thought that I was going to have a few years of nice things, but then you come back with a vengeance,” she countered.
I snorted.
“You wouldn’t know what to do with nice things, anyway,” I informed her none too gently. “Your house would probably catch on fire if you brought home something that wasn’t replaceable.”
She sighed.
“That’s not the point here,” Mom said. “She broke my table. How the hell does a baby break a table?”
I didn’t know the answer to that, so I took Tallulah and secured her into the car.
The moment I had her strapped in, I reached for the blanket that she always demanded she have, and placed it into her lap.
She pressed her face to it and nuzzled it as I closed the door.
The gas pump clicked, signaling it was finished, and my mother hung it up while I grabbed the receipt.
“Do you need any before I go close down the pumps?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“No,” she declined. “Your daddy filled mine up for me when he went out for sand bags.”
I nodded my head. “Was it bad when you left?”
She grimaced. “He had to move the dogs into the house with him because it was getting too bad. Now they’re currently shitting all over my garage and running in it.”
I gagged.
Dad’s duck dogs liked to shit right in front of the cage, and then run in it when they got excited.
While Dad worked them for a few hours a day, Mom would go into their cages and clean them.
Needless to say, she didn’t like their shit. She most certainly didn’t like their shit where she wanted to park her car.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “But the good thing is that you have a garage you can put them in. Just think, it could still be cluttered with all of my shit, and they’d be in the house.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Go lock up so we can leave, girl,” she ordered, giving me that ‘mom’ look.
I jogged back to the door, trying to ignore the way my feet moved through the water that was now up to my ankles, and headed back inside. Once everything was closed up, I switched off the pumps and headed back out, locking the doors behind me and hurrying back to my car.
The moment I reached for my door, Mom pulled out of the parking lot and went in the direction of the hospital.
I pulled out the opposite way, heading back home.
I’d just started to pick up speed when my mom called me.
“I forgot to give you her clothes,” she said the moment I answered the phone.
I groaned.