Chapter Three
They reached the vineyard late in the afternoon. Lily took advantage of the power still being on to run some laundry and turn on the air conditioner so low that Hutch shivered whenever he went by a vent. It was cold in the house, but they’d appreciate that extra coolness in a couple of days, when there was no power. She wished there was some way to make it last more than a day or so.
“I still think this is all nonsense,” said Ethan as he sorted through the things she had selected. “We’re going to end up with a lot of useless junk we won’t eat or use.” He made a face at the case he had opened. “I haven’t had these wretched things since the Army. Honestly, what would we do with ninety-six MREs, Lily?”
“Eat them when the other food runs out.” She had sat at the table and was now flipping through the manuscript she’d printed at the house. “According to this, we’ll want to buy or barter for some animals too. He suggests rabbits and goats to meet most needs, along with some chickens and a rooster for eggs. Not that you need a rooster for eggs, but you do to ensure future generations.” She chewed on her lip. “We’re going to have to fortify the house and the surrounding property, plus take turns standing guard. Once the infrastructure collapses, everything will be chaos.”
Ethan sighed loudly. “Madness, babe. You can’t really believe all this will happen?”
She shrugged. “I trust Damian, and I’ve heard enough other things today, and seen enough other people acting on the suspicion of what’s coming, that I can’t just dismiss it without even trying to prepare.” Taking a deep breath, she said, “It’s not just us now, Ethan.”
He arched his brow as he stacked the last of the cans into the pantry. “According to you, we’ll be all alone when the sun destroys all the electronics we depend upon for our very survival.”
The trace of mockery in his tone made her bristle. “Laugh it up, buttercup.” Now wasn’t the time to tell him about the baby either, not when she wanted to throttle him for being so obstinate and close-minded. She continued reading as he found more places to store the stockpiles she had arranged.
“Good choices.” He pumped one of the rifles. “These are both efficient and easy to use.” Ethan took a magazine from the gun to start the process of loading it with cartridges. “These are simple to reload too.”
She smiled slightly at the praise, but had to be honest. “There were two factors in choosing that model, hon. The salesperson helped me find uncomplicated and low-maintenance, and those were the only ones left that met the criteria.”
He frowned. “There was seriously a run on guns today?” Shaking his head, he kept loading the magazine, along with the spares. “I still think this is all crazy.”
She shrugged. “It seems crazier not to prepare, just in case.”
They settled into a somewhat companionable silence, he loading the magazines and she reading the survival manual. Her stomach rumbled about the time he finished with the guns before storing them in the linen closet for now, until they rigged up a safer storage method. She wished she had thought of a gun safe, to protect the baby when it was older, but then realized she wouldn’t have been able to fit it in the SUV without leaving half their supplies.
As she opened the fridge to use the perishable items for dinner, Ethan reached for the backpack, clearly having finished putting away everything else. He whistled through his teeth. “Wow, babe, did you empty the vault?”
She lifted a shoulder as she turned to the stove. It wasn’t a nice glass-top like the one she had in Seattle, but it ran on gas and could be converted to propane. Of course, they’d eventually have to find a better option, like a woodstove, for long-term survival. “Who knows if it will be worth anything when this is over, but if it is, I wanted as much as possible.”
“We’re losing a chunk of interest having it out of the bank like this.”
Lily rolled her eyes, but didn’t respond as he dumped the contents of the backpack on the table and started sorting the money from the other items she’d gotten at the convenience store. Her hand stilled in the process of slicing chicken breasts as she recalled just what she had picked up. Would he even notice? Perhaps he wouldn’t read the labels. She didn’t plan to hide it from him, but having it discover it like that also wasn’t the way she’d wanted to break the news.
“That is a lot of cash,” he said before returning it to the bag. “Do you want the med stuff back in the pack?”
She shook her head. “You can just leave it on the table. I’ll find somewhere for it.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m going to go hide this backpack full of money, so I can put them somewhere for you.” The bottles rattled as he gathered them up with one arm.
“On the nightstand in the master bedroom then.” She returned to cutting and cooking, while trying to pretend that her stomach wasn’t lodged in her throat. His footfall sounded ominous when he returned, and she knew he knew before he reentered the kitchen. The sound of a plastic bottle slamming against the wood table made her jump, and she forced herself to turn around, wooden spoon in hand.
“Why do you need prenatal vitamins, Lily?” He looked concerned, but also something else, verging on angry.
She was so nervous, which was crazy, since she stood in front of her husband. “I’m pregnant, Ethan. I think about eight weeks, but I’m not entirely sure, since my cycles can be irregular.”
He collapsed into a chair. “We agreed on no kids.”
She glared. “Well, I didn’t do it on purpose, and I sure didn’t get this way alone.”
Ethan’s stare was full of accusations. “You told me you couldn’t have children.”
Lily’s mouth dropped open. “Are you seriously accusing me of lying about that? You know I had cancer when I was ten. My own parents have confirmed, in front of you, that the doctors said I would be sterile from the treatments. The odds of this happening were astronomical.”
He snorted. “About as unlikely as your solar storm.” Suddenly, he hit his hand against the table. “I can’t believe this. Why the hell are we here in this place instead of in the city, doing something about this?”
She flinched. “Like what? An abortion?” He didn’t quite meet her gaze. “I thought about it, believe me, but I can’t do that. I’ve always thought I couldn’t have children, so I accepted it and didn’t dwell on my loss. But now that I know I can have a baby, that he or she is inside me, there’s no way I could cut short that miracle, Ethan. You have to understand.”
He shook his head. “I understand that you should have told me whenever you first suspected or found out. You don’t get to make these kinds of decisions by yourself.”
Lily’s heart seemed to weigh a thousand pounds in her chest. “Actually, I do. I get to decide whether to have my baby or not. What you get to decide is if you want any part in raising it.”
He blinked. “Dammit, Lily. I just don’t want children.”
“Why not? You’ve never said. Your father seems to be a wonderful man, from what I know of him, but did he beat you or something? Did he make you feel like you will fail as a father?”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “He was a fine dad, Lily. I just don’t like brats. They’re messy and expensive, and they suck all your energy. We’ll go from being husband and wife to mother and father. I don’t want to lose my relationship with you over a kid.”
Lily turned off the stove when she realized the tenders were about to burn. “Look, Ethan, we haven’t had much of a relationship recently anyway. I know we’ve both been busy, but when did we last make each other a priority?”
“I followed you today.”
She nodded. “I do appreciate it, especially since you think this is all for nothing, but is it enough? I’m not asking for blood oaths. I just want to know if you still love me and want me as your wife.” Her voice cracked, and she sniffed. “Lately, I haven’t felt particularly loved or cherished, even when you are home.”
He frowned. “I do love you. I’ll always love you, but I n
eed some time to think.” Standing up, he shoved the chair out of his way and strode from the kitchen without looking back. She listened for the sound of the old truck starting, but heard nothing. She took a tiny measure of relief from knowing he was taking a walk, not driving away. At some point, he would have to come back to her—though she didn’t know if he would want to stay, with or without a catastrophic solar event.