The Call

Dan & Libby

The amount of water on the road was incredible, Libby thought to herself, as she fought to maneuver her small Toyota. She'd gone out to the McGees' place to find out about some of the damage there but, at the turn-off to their long driveway, she'd been forced to stop. Where the driveway met the road, the water was simply too deep and running too fast for her little car to handle it. Dammit! She wished she had a four-wheel drive!

So, she'd left her car, taken her camera, and managed to make it part way up the driveway on foot. Totally drenched and covered in mud, she'd again been forced to stop without getting there to talk to anyone. The water and mud were just too much. If she didn't end up getting washed away, she was likely to get herself stuck in the mud and not be able to get out! She had managed to get some pictures of downed trees rolling around in the muddy, forceful waters, and a few long shots of the flooded McGee paddocks, but that was it.

Protecting her digital camera, Libby had waded, slogged, and fought her way back to her car. Before getting in, she'd pulled an old blanket out of the back seat and spread it over the driver's seat. It wasn't that she was a neat freak or anything, but the car was practically new and she was trying hard to protect it from the mud all over her!

The water on the road had gotten a little deeper since she'd taken her little stroll. She drove slowly and carefully, headed back toward town and her little apartment above Richie Roberts' office. About three quarters of the way there, her cell phone rang.

No way she could drive in this mess and talk on the phone at the same time! She left it ringing on the passenger seat. She'd call whoever it was back when she got home. Probably, it was Cal or Colleen checking to see what she'd gotten at the McGee's.

The trip home took about three times longer than it usually did, but Libby finally parked in town and went up the stairs to her apartment. Just inside the front door, she stopped and took off her shoes, socks and muddy jeans, so she could leave them lying on the mat while she showered.

Standing there in her shirt and panties, about to head for the bathroom, there was a knock on her door. In her hurry to get inside and out of her wet, muddy clothes, Libby hadn't shut it tightly enough. It swung open on the second knock.

Dan Evans stood there, soaked to the skin himself and taking in the sight of Libby's long, bare legs under her shirt, which was saturated to the point of being see-through.

"Dan!" she gasped.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "I've been trying to call and see if you were okay and I didn't get any answer," Dan said, eyeing her from head to toe. "So I came to check on you."