I woke, looking up at the underpinning of the boat, the aluminum sheets protecting the underside of the deck, with the pontoons on either side of me. Knowing it had to be a dream, I closed my eyes and went back to sleep.

“Mr. Buckley. Mr. Buckley. We’re here to help. Lie still, sir. Please just lie still.”

As I lay there, and they pulled things away, a pipe, a large shower wall tile, some electric wire, the strap from the front of the boat trailer, it came back to me. I was in the shower and heard a boom. Thinking it was lightning, I finished shampooing my hair. I’ll bet my hair was still full of Head and Shoulders suds. The boat must have landed on the master bathroom. Oh, God. No!

“My wife? Where is Missy? WHERE IS SHE? WHERE IS MELISSA!?!?” I yelled so loud I hurt my own ears. I guess I went a bit bonkers. I felt a little stab in my leg and the next I remembered was waking up in the hospital.

There were some friends of ours there waiting for me to wake up and let me have the bad news. Melissa was gone, as were the neighbors on either side, including the two older children in the house to the east of us. Seven people, gone. Not a trace. The only thing left on the cul-de-sac was the boat laying on our shower enclosure with a huge oak tree on top of it, holding it down. Everything else was gone down to the foundations. With no warning, none whatsoever, a thunderhead, an early season supercell, they called it, collapsed over our neighborhood and the resulting two hundred and fifty mile an hour winds it caused swept the landscape clean. Five houses on ten acres, gone, save the boat, the tree, and me. The Baxters and the Johnsons had gone on a spring break vacation, together, and weren’t at home when it happened. Good. At least eight people lived. Jack Baxter, his wife and their son Johnny, and Bill Johnson and his wife and three girls all lived. Good.

Good, I thought, then collapsed into fits of crying and rage. I felt a little stab in my leg...

I woke again, to the friendly face of my secretary from work. She’d only been there for just under a year now, but she was a nice kid and really organized. Missy thought the world of her and often called on her for help with different events and tasks involving a couple of charities we supported.

“Mr. Buckley, are you feeling any better today?”

“Hi, Mindy. No. Not really. I doubt I ever will.” She reached out for my arm and squeezed it.

“Will you let me know if I can do anything? Please?”

I nodded. “Keep our company in one piece and make sure to let me know of any problems. I can’t ask for much else. My personal life is now an absolute shambles, and I certainly don’t want my company winding up the same way.”

“OK. Please call me if you need anything. Anything at all. Please. I’ll be back tonight. What can I bring you?” I told her where to find a house key on the back patio and asked if it would be too much trouble to bring me some clothes. “Well, shit on me. Sorry, Mindy. That was stupid. They tell me there’s nothing to put the key into, not to mention the key and the rock probably aren’t there anymore. Hang on.” I thought for a second then looked up at her. “Can you go ask someone out there if I’m ever going to be able to leave?” Mindy went out to the nurses’ station to find out what she could. I experienced a wave of cold pass over me that I had only felt when coming down with the flu, like just before I got really, really sick, but I wasn’t sick, just utterly and completely scared. Afraid. Frightened. The world was now a totally unknown entity, and I was alone.

A nurse walked in with Mindy and approached the bed. “Mr. Buckley, you can probably go home as soon as we get a doctor’s clearance, but there’s been a lot of trauma in your life and they want to make sure you have some help, some support, someone, anyone that can assist. The police stopped by and brought that bag over there. You’ll be happy to know in the corner of the basement between the big gun safe and the corner wall, they found your wallet, a pair of earbuds, a blue paisley handkerchief, and a loaf of bread. All lying together, in the corner. They thought it a bit strange, but in any case, they’re over in that bag. Not the bread, but the other things.”

My wallet? A miracle. I had access to quite a bit with that.

“Mindy, get a credit card out of my wallet and if you still want to help, see if you can get me just enough clothes to get me decent and out of here. Shorts, 38 waist, a shirt, extra large AND long, some boxers, large, and some good size twelve flip flops. I’ll get more on the way to a hotel or something.” I put my head in my hands, elbows on my knees, realizing, I had nothing. The wallet being there was an absolute miracle. They can’t find the bodies, the houses, or the cars, and my wallet was laying in the corner of the basement. Simply unbelievable. It was in the chair next to our bathroom door when I got in the shower. There’s no chair anymore, or wall it was up against, or floor it was sitting on, but my wallet was in the basement. Wild.

She got a card out, showing it to me, and after a nod from yours truly, laid my wallet on the rolling stand next to the hospital bed.

“I’ll be back in a while, sir. Please hang in there for me. Please?” I nodded again. She took hold of my forearm again and squeezed, then smiled, and left, her clicking high heels walking out the door.

My dinner was brought in and I was able to get a bit of it down. It wasn’t terrible, just not good. The ice cream was OK, if a bit soft, and the cookie I dipped into it was definitely acceptable. Just like Missy made. Head back into my hands, more tears.

A doctor stopped by letting me know that tomorrow I would be released to leave the hospital, but he had conditions. “Mr. Buckley, you have gone through an enormous loss. Wife, friends, house, belongings, all of that, at once. Gone. You need to talk to someone. Have someone with you for a while.” Mindy chose that moment to come in. The doctor looked at her, then at me. “Someone needs to be close for a while to make sure you process the loss and to help you work your way through it.”

“Doctor, could you please ask Mr. Buckley if he’ll allow me to help him.” She looked directly at me with the most helpless look.

“Mindy? Are you sure you want to waste your time with this?”

“That’s what I mean, Mr. Buckley.” The doctor was adamant. “You are alive. You need to live. From what I have heard, a lot of families depend on your business. Don’t let them down. It also sounds like this pretty young lady would like to help you through this. Give it a try. Live. Keep going. There is life after tragedy, Mr. Buckley. You aren’t alone here.”

I nodded. “Mindy, if you’re sure.” She smiled and nodded.

“OK. I’ll sign for you to leave tomorrow. Anytime after nine or so. I want to make sure you wake up properly one more time, here, then you can do it on your own, somewhere else. You may not have realized it yet, but the reason you went to sleep in the shower was a massive blunt force trauma to the lower left rear quadrant of your skull. The investigators think Mother Nature hit you upside the back of the head with a boat. If you want to act out and be mad and get violent with anyone, take it out on her. It was no one’s fault but hers. Do we understand each other, young man?”

I nodded, again. “Yes, sir. We understand each other. Thank you.” He shook my hand, then Mindy’s, and walked out.

She walked over to me and handed me a bag. Exactly what I wanted. She even had an eye for the colors I would have chosen, had I been choosing. This time, I could have cared less if they were red and green, but the blue shorts, gray shirt, and black and gray leather flip flops, did the trick. And didn’t look bad, either. Neither did the three pack of blue, black, and gray knit boxers. Pretty much what I would have bought for myself.

“Thank you, Mindy. You already know me that well? The colors and all?”

“We’ll see, Mr. Buckley. We’ll see. I just want to help. If you’ll let me, I just want to help as much as I can. Can I sit with you for a while?”

“Don’t you have ... A boyfriend or anything to be with, Mindy?” I almost asked her about her family, but thought better of it, just in time. When I hired her as my personal assistant and secretary, Missy and I asked her about her family. Her parents and brother perished in an apartment fire in Iowa. She lived in a mobile home, all she could find that she could afford, for now, because she’d never set foot in an upper floor apartment. She might visit, but probably not, and she certainly wouldn’t ever live in one. The fire didn’t start in her parents’ apartment, but it was from the floor below and before there was enough of a warning, the apartment was engulfed and incinerated. I thought ‘how eerily similar’. So sudden. So fast. Her tragedy, and now mine; families gone, in an instant.

“No, Mr. Buckley, I don’t. You keep me too busy for that kind of foolishness, and anyway, good men are hard to find. I’m not looking, but if I were they are very hard to find. What I really want is to make sure that the person who gave me a chance to succeed in life, finish school, and become something my parents would be proud of, was taken care of after this ... This horrific event and comes out on the other side in one piece.”

“What are you studying again?”

“Psychology.”

“Oh. I’ll keep that in mind. Am I a subject? An experiment? Or...”

“Not in any way. Don’t think that. Ever. You are a man I admire and care deeply for and we’re going to leave it at that.” She stood, held my forearm and squeezed with her fingers. “I’ll be back for you in the morning, Mr. Buckley. Try to get some rest tonight.” Click, click, click, she left, with those telltale high heels signaling her departure.

“What a mess.”

“Not unless you make it one, you, grumpy old fart.” I must’ve been thinking out loud and here’s Nurse Ratched, hearing every word, with a syringe full of happy juice for the ‘grumpy old fart’. “I’m going to tell you something, Charles Buckley, and you listen. I’ll deny ever saying it, since this is as improper as I can be considering you’re a patient in my ward, but listen closely. That girl wants to help you through the loss of everything you held dear. Let her, and when she’s done helping you heal, you’ll see a whole new future in front of you. I know by the way she talks, acts, looks at you, refers and defers to you, that she loves you as much as is possible under the circumstances. Maybe even as much as your late wife. God rest her beautiful soul.” I looked at her in a way she must have felt was negative. “Get that look off your face. You don’t scare me a bit. You’re hurting. No one blames you for that, but don’t give up, and do give that one a chance to make it better. Do it for yourself. Not for her. She’s making herself happy helping you. You make yourself happy letting her. Got it?” She smiled at me, shot the syringe into my IV, pulled my ear so my face was closer and kissed me on the forehead.

“Yes, Aunt Maggie. I got it.”

“We love Missy too, Charlie, but this isn’t the first catastrophe this family has suffered. I wish it were the last but losing my brother and your mother, then my sister, and now your wife, pretty much makes me think it’s a never-ending story that never ends. We just have to live and love and laugh as much as we can, while we can. Get some sleep and I’ll get you up in the morning. I’m so sorry you’re going through this, son, but we’ll get to the other side. I think that girl can help you. There’s something special in there, inside her heart. I’ll just bet you. Goodnight, sweetie.” Maggie kissed my forehead again and left. I didn’t last but a couple minutes and fell asleep thinking about Mindy and what Maggie was saying instead of Missy’s dying. Thankfully. My eyes were burning from all the tears and I needed a respite from the pain and heartache.

The hand on my forearm, gently touching, just holding, a light squeeze, very light, woke me. I don’t think she was intentionally doing it, just a natural motion, maybe. After what Maggie said last night, I’m not going to assume anything or take anything off the table.

“Good morning, sunshine. I hate to bother you with all this.”

“Don’t feel that way, Mr. Buckley. I’m fine and I want to be here. The nurse said she’d be in to help check you out after a bit. Do you know her?”

“Yes. Margaret Buckley. She’s my father’s younger sister. He had an older one, too, but ... Maggie’s been there for me a lot in the last many years.”

“Oh, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Mindy. Don’t apologize. There was nothing to apologize for. She hit me over the head with a two by four when she put me to sleep last night. It’s me that needs to apologize. I’ve been acting the ass and shouldn’t have been. You’ve been nothing but an angel and deserve better. I certainly don’t deserve you. In any case...”

“I’m fine, Mr. Buckley. I told you, I want to be here. I want to help.”

“That’s what I mean. I need to let you instead of fighting it. OK?” She nodded. “OK. My job is to make it easier for you to get me back out into the world, find a place to stay, and get going again. How long have I been here, anyway?”

“Eight days. It was three days before you woke up. Your neighbors, and I guess, friends, were here every day for a few days, then when you woke up and went into a rage, they knew you’d be fine and left.” She laughed. “They are on extended leaves with relatives trying to plan for the future, I hear. They have my phone number and can reach you if they need you. I called the phone company and they have a phone ready for you at the store we use up the road, free of charge, pre-loaded, they think, with all your contacts and such, just like your old one, only a newer model. They’ll need some help with a cloud sync and all should be well.”

“Thank you.” She nodded.

“I also have a reservation for you at the Residence Inn. Open ended, but they understand. There isn’t a huge call for the rooms. There were a few homes damaged in the storm. None, but the five on your street were ... Totaled. Decimated would be a better word. Even the floor near your bathroom was ripped up and blew away.”

“Has there been any news...”

“No, sir, there hasn’t been any word of finding them yet. I’m sorry.”

I looked down at my hands but didn’t collapse into them this time. “OK. Help me get dressed and get me out of here.” Maggie must’ve noticed the commotion, so she came in to check on me. She watched as Mindy took a pair of the boxers out of the package and handed them to me. I shimmied them up under my little hospital gown and she left, smiling as she went. Mindy was next with the shorts, then stooped to put the flip flops down for me and had me turn and help me with the gown, which tied in the back.

I put the shirt on feeling a good deal of pain as it brushed over the back of my head. I reached back and noticed the bump and the pain, but no bandage or anything. It hurt, but it wasn’t an open wound. I guessed, come to think of it, that my boat wasn’t that sharp. That was a plus.

“Here, let me help you.” Mindy assisted me, helping pull the shirt down and straightening it. I felt guilty when I realized it felt good to have assistance, her assistance, her touching me, helping me pull the garment down. She had one last item, and pulled a belt out of the bag, then standing in front of me, and leaning first to my left, then to my right, her arms around me the whole time, ran the belt through the loops in the shorts, then buckled it. She finished and put her fingers inside the waistband and her thumb on the outside of the buckle making sure they weren’t too tight. It was about then that I felt really guilty.

“Thank you, Mindy. That’s fine. Wonderful, in fact. Let’s check with Maggie and get out of here.” Mindy threw the tags and all in the sack, picked up her purse and with my hand in the small of her back and her high heels clicking, we approached the nurses’ station.

“I see you got him taken care of, young lady. If you need anything, any help with him, anything at all, he has my number. I’m his Aunt Maggie, Margaret Buckley in his contact list, most probably.”

Mindy stuck her hand out. “Mindy. Melinda Maxwell. I’m actually Mr. Buckley’s personal assistant and part time secretary. Thank you for the two by four.” Maggie got a questioning look on her face for an instant, then, ‘ding’.

“Oh, that. You’re welcome. Please take care of him, Mindy. He and his cousin are about all the family I have left, and she’s not living around here anymore.”

“I will, ma’am. Can I take him now? I need to get him a phone and a place to live.”

“Yes. Sign here, Mindy. I’m putting you in charge. Charlie can sign under your name if he wants it official.”

I laughed, causing a massive headache, signed and put my hand on it to ease the pain. “Mindy, hon, please remind me not to do that for a while.”

“Yes, sir. Sir, don’t laugh for a while.” They thought it was funny. It was, but it hurt.

They wheeled me down to the front lobby, Mindy behind me and to my right until we got to ... Oh, nice, one of the company trucks. Just a big four door Ford F-150, but easy to get in and out of. She drove an old beat up Cavalier. Good thinking, Mindy, except, it still would have been fine. Her thoughtfulness, or planning, or something, is leaving a hell of an impression on me.

“I thought this would be easier for you, so I brought it.” I smiled, causing her to.

“Good thinking. I hope Jack didn’t give you a hard time.”

“He recommended the truck. He said a Taurus from Protocol would have been fine, but this would be higher and easier for you. Engineering told him I could keep it until I had you back on the road.”

“I’ll probably just get another one of these to replace the one that went away. I kind of like them.”

She pulled into the Marriott Residence Inn and came around helping me down onto the ground and inside. “Reservation for Buckley, Charles. There should have a Bonvoy number on the reservation. If not, I have it here.”

“No, ma’am, it’s fine and I have it here. Lower level just inside the hallway down there.” He pointed to the first rooms off the lobby. “102 and 104 for tonight, then room 102 for the duration.” I looked at her a bit funny, but then I realized she just wanted to make sure I was doing all right. Let it happen, Charlie Buckley. Let it happen. I almost never talk to myself. Almost. “Welcome, Mr. Buckley. Very sorry to hear about what happened. Very much so. If there is anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable, please don’t hesitate to let us know.” He handed Mindy the little folders with the keys in them and off we went.

She let me into my room first, then opened the divider door and went back out to open hers and come through the adjoining portal. “I’ll be right back. I have some things in the truck and I need to move it out of the reception area. If you like, you can take a shower and I’ll bring a new pair of undies in for you. You haven’t been in those clothes long enough to sully them and I will take you out for your phone, then to lunch and shopping, as soon as you’re ready. Be right back.” She was gone like a shot.

In the shower, the hot water running over my head and back felt really, really good. I’m sure they had bathed me in the hospital, but this was so much better, and knowing there was no little water heater to run cold on me was nice, too. I heard the door open.

“Mr. Buckley, there is a clean pair of boxers out here for when you’re done. Please use them, then get dressed and we’ll talk about what’s next. OK?”

“Sounds great. Mindy, thank you for what you’re doing. I mean that.”

“No need to thank me, sir. Seriously. I’m here with you because I want to be. If I worked in production, I would have asked to be here. We’ll talk later. Just be careful with your head, and If you get dizzy, please call for me. Promise?”

“Promise. I’ll just be a bit longer. This hot water feels divine.”

“I’ll bet it does after eight days of nothing but sponges in the hands of pretty nurses cleaning you up, all over your dirty little body.” I could hear her laughing all the way into the shower enclosure.

“Are you being a naughty girl, Mindy?”

“No, sir. OK, I’m lying. Yes, sir. I’m sorry. It just seemed funny. For the most part, when you were out of it, they’d have orderlies, big burly guys, doing it, cleaning you, but when you were awake, at least when I was there, it would be a nurse or a candy striper. It just seemed ... It was entertaining. I’m going to my room. Let me know when you’re done.”

I finished, feeling a hundred percent better, and even a bit less depressed. I felt good. I still hurt, but I was thinking about it less and understanding more that it was a process. I knocked on her door.

“Mindy? I think I’m ready.”

She opened the door and looked at me. “You look like you feel better sir. We need to get you everything. Razor, shave gel, all that. We will, though. Let’s go take your world back, Mr. Buckley.”

Our first stop was the phone store, and they had a new phone ready for me full of all my contacts. I logged into my One Drive and my Google Drive, synchronizing there, then thanked the kid, Mindy signing for everything and we left to go find lunch. We hit Red Robin, Mindy somehow knowing it was not a place we’d ever frequented. I don’t remember ever being there with Missy, come to think of it. Was my PA clairvoyant, or just observant?

Next stop, the mall and Gentleman’s Warehouse. We picked up a few things, one suit, some slacks, a few shirts and a couple of ties Mindy picked out. They also had some of the socks I like.

Famous Footwear had shoes I liked for dress and casual use; French Shriner black tasseled loafers, brown Florsheim oxfords, a pair of Sperry topsiders in a light sand, and some Rockport saddle shoes, brown on brown, fixed me up for shoes, for now.

Target was next on the list and we filled a basket with underwear, a couple of casual shirts, a pair of jeans, and everything in the personal list from anti-perspirant to toothpaste.

Back at the truck, we decided to take it all to the hotel, for now, the suits and slacks wouldn’t be ready for a couple days, but I had some casual things to wear. Midway through the afternoon, I had her take me to my insurance agent’s office. It was about three, so we had a couple of hours to talk and find out what our next step would be. This was going to be tough, and Mindy knew it, actually holding my hand walking in with me. We were quite a sight, her in a blouse, pencil skirt, and heels, and me in shorts and flip flops. She told me not to worry about it, I looked fine.

Stan stood, shook my hand and told me how sorry he was that I was going through this. I introduced him to Mindy, which explained her presence, and he got down to business. The house was insured for today’s replacement value. I could build the same house on the same foundation and not pay a nickel out of pocket.

The cars were both covered for replacement value, as well. My truck was less than a year old and Missy’s Taurus was less than two years old. They would both be replaced with identical models, within the terms of our policy. He handed me a letter of introduction on his letterhead with the Vehicle Identification Numbers on it. It basically said that his company would write them a check when I picked out what I wanted as long as they were about the same. If I upgraded, I’d pay the difference. That wouldn’t happen. My Lariat had everything, as did Missy’s Taurus Limited. I would change colors on the car, though, but I planned on doing direct replacements. I loved both of those vehicles.

I was going to be given a check for seventy-five thousand dollars to cover personal belongings, as stated in the policy. If any of the listed jewelry was recovered during our renovation, he would appreciate a heads up and a refund back to them, but he didn’t expect that to happen, as it almost never turns out that way.

He also told me some news that was quite interesting and that I might want to act on it. He also insured the houses on either side of me and one across the way. The families that didn’t make it and the next one around. Four contiguous lots. The concerned families and their beneficiaries wanted nothing to do with staying or rebuilding. Baxter mentioned offering his place to me. The lots would be demolished, the utilities capped appropriately, and leveled and seeded. Just like there had never been anyone living there. If I wanted them. “Sold,” I told him. If I could do the same with Bill Johnson, I’d have my own little private hideaway. A cul-de-sac, surrounded by trees, one way in and one way out. Bordered on two sides by a creek, one side by a minor side road, and the third a city park. Ten acres. Then the guilt started. Mindy must have seen me. My face. The depression.

“Mother Nature, Mr. Buckley, she did it. Don’t feel guilty. Don’t be mad at anyone but her. Remember what the doctor said, sir? Act out at her and don’t feel bad about it. Please.” Mindy patted my arm, then held it and gently squeezed it, bringing me back to the now. I gave her a smile and got one back.

“Stan, we’ll purchase the other lots from the company. Cleaned and capped, as you said. Please keep it reasonable. If you hear from Bill Johnson, and you may, considering you insured the other four properties, let me know. I’ll do the same for his. Put the check in the same account you’ve been getting the payments from. You have the routing and account numbers. We’re going to have the vehicles replaced, as you suggested, tomorrow, so expect a call from Ballwin Motors. They know me. We’ll stop by on the way to the hotel and go from there. Anything else I need to know?” Stan said there wasn’t, so we shook hands, he again, told me how sorry he was, offered his condolences and told Mindy to take care of one of his best and most appreciated customers.

Once outside, I took Mindy’s offered hand, a comfort, to say the least, and asked her to take me to the local Ford dealership.

Frank Meyers was there, thankfully. He’d sold me both of the last vehicles. I handed him the letter and he looked up the stickers on the truck and the Taurus. He hit his computer, did a bit of looking and looked at me straight in the eyes. “You had white and gold. How would you feel about a matching set, the only difference being the Taurus is a Limited SHO. All the options you had before but with a bit of a punch in the horses department. Blue Jeans. Kind of a subdued silvery blue grey. I’ll put it in as a direct replacement if you want to look at that.”

I have no idea why, but I looked at Mindy for approval. She didn’t, I don’t think, know why either, but she nodded, giving said approval. “Sounds good, Frank. That’ll be fine. Thanks.”

“What’re a few horsepower between friends, eh? Charlie, I’m really sorry to be jovial. I really feel bad about what happened. Everyone knows how shitty a deal you got dealt. I’m glad you’re OK, but damn that sucks losing your wife and house and all. Please understand we all feel for you and want to help any way we can. I’ll be right back.”

She giggled. “Why did you look at me? I know you like blue. And gray! So, I nodded.”

“I wanted your approval. I don’t know why, but it seemed important at the time.”

“Thank you. You like blue. It’s all good.” We shared another smile.

Frank came back in. “Boss says first four oil changes and checkups are on us. Also, you had lifetime bumper to bumper on the other ones, so it’s on these as well. Doesn’t include tires, wipers, glass, lights, yada, yada, yada, but as you were advised before, electrical, mechanical, all covered for as long as you own them. You want to see them, and we’ll finish up? I have a guy bringing them both around.”

They were nice. Just like my truck and Missy’s Taurus, only blue. Mindy was happy for me. Happy that I was pleased. We went back inside. “Sign here and you can have them now. No need to put off the inevitable. If you get tired of blue, bring it back next year and we’ll make you a heck of a deal.”

I signed, and he handed us the key fobs to the truck and the car both.

“Frank, can you park the company truck and the new truck outside the gate? I know you’re getting ready to close, and we need to ferry these back to the hotel. I shouldn’t be driving yet.”

“Better idea. I’m riding with Dad and Sylvia. I’ll take your company truck and Sylvia can drive your new one. Where are you staying?”

“Residence Inn, Chester exit.”

“Got it. Hang on.”

I called Stan. He was still in, so I was able to give him the VIN information and tell him the deal was done and that Ballwin would send him the invoice in the morning. He thanked me and signed off.

“Wow, that was easy. Clothes, insurance and new cars before dinner. Hungry?” She nodded. “You pick. You’ve been doing pretty well so far.”

We all took off at about the same time, the owners of the dealership dropping off our trucks at the hotel while she drove me back in the Taurus. I thanked them and was reminded of the first four oil changes and the good deal they’d make if blue just didn’t do it for me. It did it for me, but I wasn’t telling them that.