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“I can’t. I really need to go.” She tried to swallow. “Are you going swimming?”

“It’s my nephew Travis’s birthday today. My sister, Gigi’s, having a party for him down at Alligator Point. They thought it would take my mind off things.”

“How nice,” Marylou said flatly. Would two pieces of cake be enough to kill this man? She certainly hoped so. “What about the hurricane?”

“Eh.” He shrugged her question away. “More waves for us!” He crouched down like a surfer, swaying on his board.

“I hope you like pineapple upside-down cake,” Marylou said.

“I love it. It’s my favorite kind of cake. How’d you know?”

Marylou shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

“I’m going to gobble it right up! Won’t you join me?”

Marylou protested and began moving toward the door.

“Mrs. Archer,” Buff said, fixing his face in a sincere mask. “I just want to thank you for standing by me. With everyone’s help, with my family’s support, and the Lord’s gracious love, I can beat this thing. Your help means so much. And your prayers. And this cake!” He took her hand in his warm paw and she let him hold it.

You’re warm now, sinner, but not for long. That was the Radioactive Lady talking.

“Paula said she’d consider moving back in with me. I really miss her and the girls.” His eyes teared up and she had the sudden urge to poke them, hard.

“Cake goes down better with milk!” Nance called out as she stepped out the door. “Milk and cake make everything better!”

* * *

Marylou hid in her house for a while, not allowing herself to think about what she’d done. She tried to watch a cooking show, but kept imagining the round girl chef pouring antifreeze into her polenta with porcini topping and her rotelle with broccoflower and albacore tuna. Finally, surging with restless energy, she clipped Buster’s leash on and dragged him outside where it was balmy and fresh as if all the oppressive stagnant air had been sucked up into the gray sky, where dark clouds were now scooting across in a businesslike manner.

Buff’s black SUV was parked in his driveway. He hadn’t made it to the birthday party after all! What a shame. She refused to imagine what might’ve been happening to him inside. So this was what it was like, she thought, to just not think about the consequences of what you’d done. Not really so hard after all! Wilson had done it for years. Keep moving, that seemed to help.

Vic’s secret wish had been granted. He’d wanted a hurricane and along came Grayson. He couldn’t enjoy it, though, because here he was, driving right through Grayson to retrieve Ava from Travis’s grandmother’s beach house.

The night before, Travis had come by their Friar’s Way house to pick Ava up and she’d gone off with him to Alligator Point, overnight bag in hand, over Caroline’s wild protests.

“His mother and grandmother and their friends will be there, not that it matters. It’s his birthday. He wants me there. I’m his girlfriend.” Ava lifted her chin proudly.

“But the storm, the storm!” Caroline wailed. “There’ll be way more flooding at the beach.”

“I’m going,” Ava said, and she went.

The next morning Nance woke them up at seven thirty, dropping by unannounced to take Wilson out to breakfast. She didn’t say a word to Vic about the little talk they’d had in his office after he’d caught Gigi cheating. In fact, she spoke only to Caroline and Wilson, which was fine with him. As Nance and Wilson drove off to their impromptu Cracker Barrel breakfast, Vic’s boss called to tell him that FTA was closed because of the hurricane. Vic started calling Ava not long after that to see if she was all right. Ava didn’t answer her phone, so by nine thirty Vic was headed south along Highway 98, a two-lane road hemmed in on both sides by the Apalachicola National Forest. It was agonizing not being able to drive any faster than forty-five. For some perverse reason he pictured Ava floating away in the beach house or clinging to driftwood in the surging sea. Or her drowned body washing up on the beach. What kind of a man was he, thinking such thoughts, torturing himself by imagining the very thing