Red Flag Warning Day

Busy making pancakes, I hardly registered what the newsreader announced. It was another red flag warning day in Tahoe Valley.

My day started like any other; a busy working Mom, I rallied the troops and watched as lethargy overcame my brood in equal measures. Sam was first to appear and on the cusp of womanhood, she looks awkward in her teenage skin. She is texting furiously on her iPhone. I glower.

“Do you think you can put your phone down long enough to eat breakfast?” I ask, churlishly. Predictably, there is no response but her sideways glance is clearly, “WTF?”

Aden is next on the scene. Several years younger than his eldest sibling, he sits at the long table and quietly pours a bowl of his favorite Choco-Wheats and tucks in voraciously after drowning the puffed wheat in full-fat milk. It’s only when he ignores my question about the Chess Club after school that I realize he’s wearing headphones and is in a world of his own.

It’s 08:10 and Whitney has yet to materialize. The youngest of my three, she is the cutest, sweetest little girl. As innocent as the day is long and so loving. I find her on her bedroom floor surrounded by soft toys and our dog, Sable, sitting obediently to one side seemingly listening intently to every word my daughter is saying.

“Do you want to come to school today with me and Sable, Pixie, or is it your turn Hungry Caterpillar?” She is holding the two adorable characters up for Sable to choose from. My heart aches when I stumble upon this sweet scene.

“Hey! Come on, we’re gonna be late and if we don’t get a move on nobody will be able to go to school.” Whitney is in pre-school but calls it school to keep up with her big brother and sister.

Finally, I manage to herd Sam and Aden out to the sidewalk and watch as they climb aboard the big yellow bus. I wave to them both, as I always do, but they never wave back. They have both begged me to stop embarrassing them but I can’t help myself.

As I strap Whitney into her car seat and get Sable to lay on the blanket on the back seat next to her, I feel exhausted and I haven’t even begun my day at Bright, Rose & Stavinsky.

Aaron and I are both Partners. He is a Senior Partner and on his way to the top. He has a brilliant mind, but he’s also a great husband and Dad.

Finally, I launch into my professional day and drop Whitney at kindergarten, making sure I get the snuggly hug that she always gives me when we part. Charlene, the TA, scoops her up into her arms and I feel a slight pang of jealousy that the young helper will get to spend the next five hours with my little girl. But this is 2021 and life goes on post-pandemic as we all try to make sense of what just happened.

Thankfully, we could afford homeschooling for the kids and between us, Aaron and I managed to keep working, sometimes just from home and other times using the hybrid method. We got through it with the help of family and survived.

Bright, Rose & Stavinsky had the best year ever. Aaron and I would never have dreamed about the dizzy heights we could and did achieve when we were living the Californian dream as young, hopeful teenagers, now both acclaimed lawyers in our own rights.

My Legal Assistant, Stacey, had my day organized beautifully as always. It was late afternoon when she appeared at the glass Board Room door looking slightly agitated. There were nine other people in the room. I was chairing the meeting and when I managed to catch her eye, I gestured for her to enter.

“What’s up Stacey?”

“Can I speak with you for a moment?” She turned and left the room, waiting for me to follow.

I closed the Board Room door behind me. Huddled in a corner of the coffee room opposite, I saw Aaron being comforted by a colleague.

“Oh, my God! What happened?”

Aaron looked up when he heard my voice.

“What is it? For God’s sake. Somebody tell me what’s happening.”

Stacey ushered me inside the room, the other staff member left discreetly as she closed the door behind her, leaving me alone with Aaron.

“Is it the kids? What’s going on?”

“Honey,” he said, holding my arms and looking straight at me. “The fire jumped the highway and the kindergarten was surrounded before the firefighters could even get there.”

“No! What are you saying?!”

“It’s too early to say, but we think Whitney might have got caught in the blaze.”

Pixie had been chosen to go to kindergarten that fateful day with Whitney. Sable, our faithful Husky had perished too, alongside our beautiful daughter.

The funeral was a blur. It was Sam who suggested a wreath in the shape of the Hungry Caterpillar. Whitney would have loved it. The small, white coffin broke a thousand hearts that day, but none were bleeding more than mine.

I haven’t been able to go back to work yet. It’s too soon. I can’t function. I tidy up the house and my Mom and sister drop by regularly to keep an eye on me. I know they mean well, but I have to get through this.

I pour myself another cup of coffee and sit at the countertop, staring out over the beautiful vista that first attracted us to the house all those years ago. The once beautiful forest is now a tinderbox dry ticking time bomb that exploded right on our doorstep.

Part of me wants to move and leave the Valley forever, but the other part of me is waiting for Whitney to give me one last snuggly hug.

***

This story was first published on Medium, where you can find more of my work. You can also follow me on Twitter and Substack.