But halfway through the song, Bill came back into the living room, ordering us to turn the music off.
“What, Daddy?” Mary asked, falling out of character and looking annoyed.
“Turn it off!” he shouted to make himself heard.
He was holding his phone, staring at the screen.
Something was wrong. 32: Touch Down
“What is it, Billy?” I asked in the sudden silence.
He put the phone to his ear, listening.
“What?” I asked again, annoyed.
“They issued a tornado warning,” he said.
“A warning?”
“Shut up! I’m trying to find out where it touched down.”
Mary grabbed for her phone, punching at the screen.
“We should go to the shelter,” I said automatically, my heart racing a little. A warning meant a tornado had been spotted or had already touched down in the immediate area. I looked out the front windows of Mama’s house, surprised at how dark it had become.
“It’s probably nothing,” Bill said, in a way that was meant to remind me not to scare the children.