Page 72 of No Judgements

I climbed onto the scooter and started the engine. “It’s no inconvenience. I’m going there anyway.”

“Well...” The woman reluctantly climbed onto the back of the motorbike, taking the helmet I handed to her. “I guess if it really isn’t any trouble...”

“It’s so close,” I said, nodding at Drew, who was already halfway down the block with Josiah bouncing on his shoulders. “They’re going to beat us there if we don’t hurry.”

They did, but only because I was so shocked when I turned the corner and saw the Mermaid that I slammed on my brakes. It wasn’t because of what the storm had done to the restaurant: Drew’s expert shuttering had guaranteed it was buttoned up tight against any wind damage from Marilyn, and Ed had sandbagged, preventing any storm surge flooding from the nearby harbor.

What surprised me was the size of the crowd I saw in the street outside the café. I should have expected it—there’d just been a significant weather catastrophe, and Ed was giving away free food, after all.

But I hadn’t seen that many people in one place in Little Bridge since the Fourth of July fireworks display at the dock.

If things were this bad—if there were this many people in need of food and water on the island—where was the National Guard? Where was the Federal Emergency Management Agency? Where was the Red Cross, the Salvation Army, any of those people you always saw on television rushing in after a disaster to help those in need, and to whom, in the spirit of giving, my parents always donated money every year during the holidays? Where did all that money they sent go, if it wasn’t to the people who needed it? Were we really just on our own?

“Is everything all right?” the woman sitting behind me asked, no doubt wondering why we were just sitting there.

“Not exact—” I started to say, then realized I shouldn’t alarm my guest with my own dark thoughts, especially since she appeared to be one of the people in need. “Nope, everything’s fine.”

I pulled over to park without further comment but wondered how Ed and Lucy Hartwell and the others were doing, serving such an overwhelmingly large crowd.

The woman must have been thinking the same thing, since she said, “Wow,” as she slipped off the helmet I’d loaned her and handed it back to me. “I guess word traveled around fast about this place.”

“It sure did.” Drew came up beside us to hand the woman her still happily chattering child.

I was relieved to see that most of the people in the crowdwere already holding paper plates and cups. It looked like Ed had cleaned out the freezers. I could smell the scent of grilling meat and vegetables floating on the sea breeze.

“You stay here,” I said to the woman, since I was anxious to get to the café and see what I could do to help out. “One of us will bring you back a couple of plates, and some milk for Josiah.”

“Oh, no,” the woman said, looking mortified. “I don’t want to be any more bother.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I work for the café.” I stabbed a finger in Drew’s direction. “And he’s the owner’s nephew.”

The woman turned suddenly tear-filled eyes in Drew’s direction, then reached out to grasp his hand.

“Oh, bless you,” she cried. “Bless you for doing this. You are just the kindest, sweetest man.” She kissed the hand she’d seized, then clutched it to her heart, possibly by accident, but also maybe on purpose, giving Drew a pretty thorough feel of her bikini-clad breasts.

I glared at her while, above her bowed head, Drew grinned at me, one eyebrow cocked mischievously, obviously enjoying my discomfort.

“I really am the kindest and the sweetest,” he said. “Also the handsomest.”

“Well, we have to go now,” I said, taking Drew by the arm and physically propelling him away from the woman. “But we’ll be back.”

“One of us will,” Drew assured her with a wink. “Probably not me.”

“Oh.” The woman looked crestfallen, even as severalother women rushed up to her, each bearing items of food and clothing that had already been donated that they wanted to give to her and her child.

“What was that?” I demanded, as I dragged him through the crowd toward the café. “I’m the one who actually works here and gave her the scooter ride. Why didn’t she kissmyhand?”

“Do you want me to go back there and ask her?” Drew froze, grabbed my wrist, and began to drag me back toward the woman. “You’re right, this is gender inequality.”

I dug my heels in. “Stop it. This isn’t funny.”

“You’re being jealous is sort of funny.”

“I’m not jealous!”

“You’re completely jealous.”

“I’m embarrassed for my sex, is all. That woman was throwing herself at you. Also, how could she not have known a storm was coming? She has a child! It’s her job to know.”