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Thirty-Four

Roman

Q uinn seemed to relax a little as the rain pounded on the roof while she curled up and watched a movie with Rosie.

This was probably the most I’ve seen anyone sit and watch movies, but it wasn’t like there were any other options.

If it was just Quinn and me, there were plenty of ways that I could fill the time without watching TV, but Rosie was here, and that left few options for a five-year-old.

It was a little after two, but it felt like it was so much later since we got up at five.

I was glad that Quinn slept for a few hours but wished she would have gotten a solid eight hours of sleep instead of five.

But something was better than nothing, and she seemed to be more alert than she was before.

I had fixed Rosie lunch earlier but knew that Quinn hadn’t eaten yet today.

Restless and desperate for something to do, I got up and went to the kitchen to make something since I hadn’t bothered to eat either.

My stomach growled as I turned the bacon in the skillet and flipped the pancakes onto a plate.

Who said there was a time limit on when you could eat breakfast?

“Hey Rosie, do you want some pancakes?” I called to her in the living room. Not that I had to yell or shout, given that they were sitting less than twenty feet away from me in the same room. But pulling her attention away from the hundreds of spotted dogs on the TV was another thing.

“No thanks,” she replied happily, leaning forward as Quinn got up and joined me in the kitchen.

“I hope you’re hungry,” I said over my shoulder as she pressed her body against mine and slid a hand up and down my back.

“I’m starving. What can I help with?”

“Nothing, I’m just about done.”

“Sorry, I just assumed you were fixing food for yourself, or I would have come in to help.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” I laughed. “I enjoy cooking for you, Quinn. I wouldn’t have let you help, even if you tried.”

She blushed and glanced at Rosie, who was still focused on the madwoman screeching her tires on the TV as she chased down the puppies in her car.

We sat down at the small kitchen table and ate, not bothering to say anything while checking on Rosie every few minutes.

It wasn’t that there was any threat of danger, but more out of habit and that there wasn’t much else to look at in the small space without having to stare at each other—and I knew that if I kept looking at Quinn, I was going to start thinking about all of the things that I couldn’t do to her right now.

Once we were finished, she helped me with the dishes, despite my constant protests. We were just about done when the phone rang. A chill ran down my spine as we looked at each other, knowing that Rob would only call if something was wrong.

I tossed the towel onto the counter and rushed over to the phone. My grip was tight as I picked up the receiver and brought it to my ear.

“Hello.”

“It’s Rob. There’s a bad storm heading your way.”

I looked out the window and saw a bolt of lightning light up the trees as the thunder clapped overhead. It had been slowly coming down for a few hours but was definitely getting worse.

“Yeah, it’s already coming down pretty hard.”

“The weather can get ugly out there, so if the power goes out, there’s a generator in the shed behind the house. Might not be a bad idea to get it set up before it gets too bad. Just wanted to let you know in case I can’t get through on this line.”

He talked me through where to find everything I needed in the shed and then guided me on where to find resources if we needed them. I didn’t have to ask what he meant. We both knew why we were here, and Quinn and I weren’t the first to use his makeshift safe house.

I hung up, feeling slightly relieved that nothing was amiss, though I couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that something wasn’t right.

There were a few things that I needed to take care of before the power went out, so we weren’t caught in a bind, but I knew that getting the generator set up was the first priority.