ARE YOU CERTAIN WE HAVE EVERYTHING WE may need? Bottled water and nonperishables?”
Marilee Ritt tried to contain her annoyance. “Yes, William. I double-checked the shopping list you gave me before leaving the market. I even stopped at the hardware store for extra flashlight batteries because the market had already sold out.”
Her brother peered past her through the wide windows of the drugstore that bore his name. On Main Street, vehicles were reduced to a crawl, not because of road conditions, which were becoming increasingly dicey, but because there was so much traffic. People were anxious to get wherever they were going to wait out the storm.
“Forecasters are saying this could be a bad one, lasting several days.”
“I listen to the radio and TV, too, William.”
His eyes moved quickly back to his sister. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were inefficient. Just a little absentminded sometimes. How about a cup of cocoa? On the house.”
She glanced outside at the slow-moving stream of cars. “I don’t think I’d get home any faster if I left now, so all right. I’d love some cocoa.”
He ushered her toward the soda fountain at the front of the store and motioned her onto one of the chrome stools at the counter. “Linda, Marilee would like a cup of cocoa.”
“Extra whipped cream, please,” Marilee said, smiling at the woman behind the counter.
“Coming right up, Miss Marilee.”
Linda Wexler had been managing the drugstore soda fountain long before William Ritt bought the business from the previous owner. When he took over, he’d been smart enough to keep Linda in place. She was a local institution, knowing everyone in town, who took cream in their coffee and who drank it black. The tuna salad was made fresh by her every morning, and she wouldn’t even consider using frozen patties for the hamburgers she cooked to order on a griddle.
“Can you believe this mess outside?” she asked as she poured milk into a saucepan to heat for the cocoa. “I remember when we’s kids, how excited we’d get ever’ time snow was in the forecast, wondering was we gonna have school the next day or not. You prob’ly enjoy a free holiday much as your pupils.”
Marilee smiled at her. “If we have a snow day, I’ll probably use it to grade papers.”
Linda sniffed with disapproval. “Waste of a day off.”
The entrance door opened, and the bell above it tinkled. Marilee swiveled around on her stool to see who’d come in. Two teenage girls rushed inside, giggling and shaking moisture from their hair. They were in Marilee’s third-period grammar and American literature class.
“You girls should be wearing caps,” she said to them.
“Hi, Miss Ritt,” they said, virtually in unison.
“What are you doing out in this weather? Shouldn’t you be getting home?”
“We came to rent some videos,” one said. “Just in case, you know, we don’t have school tomorrow.”
“I hope there are some new releases left,” the other girl remarked.
“Thank you for reminding me,” Marilee said. “I may take one or two movies home myself.”
They looked at her strangely, as though it had never occurred to them that Miss Marilee Ritt might actually watch a movie. Or that she would do anything other than give tests, and grade themes, and monitor the hallways during class changes, keeping a keen eye out for unnecessary horseplay. They probably couldn’t imagine any kind of life for her outside the corridors of Cleary High School.
And, until recently, they would have been right.
She felt her cheeks turn warm at the reminder of her new pastime and quickly changed the subject. “Get home before the roads get icy,” she cautioned her students.
“We will,” one said. “I have to be home before dark anyway. Because of Millicent. My folks are freaked out.”
“Mine too,” the other said. “Totally. They’ve got to know where I am twenty-four-seven.” She rolled her eyes. “As if I’d get close enough to some creep that he could grab me and carry me off.”
“I’m sure they’re very concerned,” Marilee said. “They should be.”
“My daddy gave me a pistol to keep in my car,” the other girl said. “Told me not to hesitate to shoot anybody who tried to mess with me.”
Marilee murmured, “It’s become a frightening situation.” Gauging their impatience to get on with their evening, she told them to enjoy the snow day, if indeed they had one, then turned back to the counter just as Linda was serving her cocoa.
“Careful, hon, it’s hot.” Looking after the girls, Linda said, “People have gone plumb nuts.”