“Me, too,” I said, and meant it.

The phone call put a damper on things for me. I felt guilty about having a good time and uncomfortable that I’d been caught. I didn’t want to ruin the rest of our little group’s picnic, so I said I wanted to get back to my room and go over the schedule again. Both Mason and Dinah offered to go with me, but I told them to stay and enjoy the fire. It was hard to shake my feeling of responsibility for everything and everyone. It didn’t seem right that I should be giggling around a campfire.

After I had gone only a few steps, the fire pit area slipped into oblivion thanks to the cloud sitting on the ground. All my worry over being in charge had already come back with a vengeance, and I almost walked into the figure ahead of me on the path.

“Bennett,” I said with surprise. “Nora is looking for you.”

I couldn’t see his expression, but it seemed like he was rolling his eyes and shrugging. I took it as a so-what-else-is-new kind of gesture.

“I was playing a solo game of pool.” He gestured in the direction of the administration building.

“Then everything is okay,” I said, putting on my leader-of-the-pack voice.

“Was she giving you a hard time?” he asked.

Why not clear things up? I mentioned her talking about leaving in the morning and being less than thrilled with everything.

“Don’t worry, we’re not leaving in the morning. You have to understand: Nora’s a great manager. She’s always looking out for my best interest and wants me to be treated like a star.” He let out a chuckle. “I, however, know I’m just an actor.” His self-deprecating manner won me over, and we walked the rest of the way to Lodge together. I started to go in, and he continued on the path toward their accommodations. Yes, Bennett was pleasant and reassuring, but I couldn’t help thinking of what Mason had said about actor clients he’d had. They played the nice guy and let their spouse be the hammer.

CHAPTER 6

THE LOUD, INSISTENT KNOCK AT MY DOOR MADE me sit up suddenly. The rhinestone clipboard fell off the bed, hitting the floor with a loud clatter. Had I really slept with it? I looked around, trying to orient myself. After a moment I recognized the dark wood-paneled walls and ceiling of my Asilomar room. I’d left the curtains open, and the dim light filtering in implied that it was very early morning. The window was open a crack, and the room had filled with chilly, damp air. More noise came from the door. This time it was closer to pounding. My stomach did a flip-flop. It sounded like trouble.

The floor was icy on my bare feet as I got out of bed. Maybe icy was a bit of a stretch, but it was certainly very cold. The red readout on the clock radio said six thirty. I regretted not having brought a robe and slippers, and pulled the dusty rose shawl I’d crocheted over my nightgown. My shoulders felt warm, but it didn’t do much for the rest of me as I crossed to the door.

Adele was tapping her foot when I opened the door. “It’s about time,” she said, shaking her head. My groggy feeling was instantly gone with one glance at Adele’s outfit. The fuchsia of her sweat outfit hit my eyes with a jolt-and who knew they made chartreuse sneakers? She completed the look with a backward baseball cap and a scarf of coaster-size doilies strung together and wrapped around her neck. “Pink, you’ve got a problem. No, it’s more than a problem. It’s a disaster.” She took in my outfit. “You better put on some clothes. You’re going to have to do something. You’re in charge, remember? The big cheese with the rhinestone clipboard. The buck stops with you.”

Adele’s rant was interrupted by a door opening. Dinah stuck her head out. “What’s all the commotion about?”

I pulled Adele into my room, and Dinah followed. No need to alert the whole floor that something bad had happened before I had the details.

“So, what is it?” I asked.

“I can’t tell you. I have to show you. Downstairs.”

Adele tends toward drama, but I couldn’t take a chance. I threw on yesterday’s clothes and shoved my sleep-shaped hair under a beige beanie I’d crocheted recently, figuring I’d deal with the disaster and come back for a shower before breakfast.

Okay, there are some things that can’t be fixed. And for once Adele hadn’t gone for hyperbole. As soon as we stepped outside, I got it. It was like stepping inside a marshmallow. All I could see was white. Even though we’d gone only a few steps from the entrance to Lodge, the building was already disappearing in the white air swirling around it.

Dinah came down the steps a few minutes later, glanced around, and rushed to join us. She’d pulled on some red sweats and covered the wilted spikes of her hair with a black baseball cap.

“Wait for me,” a voice called from behind us. When I turned back, I saw that Sheila had just tumbled out the door. She screeched to a stop, reacting to the opaque air. I couldn’t make out her expression, but I could hear her breath become shallow and ragged. I got it right away. She was feeling panicky, and I could relate. There was something claustrophobic about a fog this thick.

She took a tentative step toward us, eyeing the sky nervously.

“It’s okay, honey,” Dinah said, putting her arm around Sheila when she finally reached us. We all urged Sheila to take some deep breaths, and gradually her features lost their frantic expression. Adele started to reel off information about how bad it was as she dragged us all to the administration building, where the lone TV was tuned to a live report.

A newscaster was standing at a police roadblock. Behind her it looked as if a white curtain had been pulled across the road. “It’s a complete whiteout and has been named the Pacific Grove Fogout,” she said, gesturing to the road behind her.

The redheaded guy at the registration desk began to talk. “It’s a complete whiteout. All the roads are closed around here. You can’t see past the hood of your car.” He shook his head. “We get fog all the time around here, but never like this. I bet it’s because of global warming.”

He pushed a pile of phone messages across the counter. “These are for you-from your retreat people. They’re all stuck, and won’t be able to get here until the fog lifts. Everything-and I mean everything-is shut down, not moving, nothing going anywhere. Not even the park ranger or the security guy could make it in.” He mumbled something about having worked all night, and his replacement couldn’t make it in, either. Then he stared at us, looking a little crazed and his voice verging on hysterical. “We’re stranded, ladies. It’s like we’re on an island with no boat.” He leaned across the counter. “Be careful.”

We went back outside, and when I held my arm out, I could barely see my hand. As we walked down the path, a deer rushed in front of us, appearing as confused as we were.

“Pink, what are you going to do?” Adele said.

I had considered lots of things that might happen during the weekend, but being caught inside a cloud wasn’t one of them. I gave up hope for a hot shower and a change of clothes. Maybe after breakfast. I suggested we move on to the dining hall.

“What are you going to do, Pink?” Adele said again, walking on one side of me.

“Molly will come up with something,” Dinah said from the other side. Sheila appeared overwhelmed by the fog and stayed close to Dinah.

“The obvious thing is to postpone everything until the campers get here,” I said as the bell began to ring, announcing breakfast.

“Good morning, ladies,” an all-too-cheerful male voice said from behind us. Dinah stiffened and moved closer to Sheila. As Commander Blaine caught up with us, I began to see Dinah’s point. He was too eager, too cheerful, and his cargo pants too wrinkle-free. He rushed ahead as we walked up the stairs to the dining hall, grabbed the door, and held it open for us. Did he even notice the fog?