“Sounds good.” Doug got up and went over to the bookcase, turning his head sideways to read the titles on the videotape boxes until he found the right one. Annie Hall was on the same tape as The Haunting and Burnt Offerings, sandwiched in between the two horror movies, and he had to fast-forward the tape to get to it.

“Last chance,” he called upstairs as the credits began.

Billy did not even bother to respond.

The movie was as funny, and as on-target, as ever, and Doug was glad that they’d decided to watch a comedy. It helped take his mind off everything else that was going on.

Woody was just entering Christopher Walken’s room to talk about night driving when the lights in the house suddenly dimmed into darkness and the television blinked off with a crackle of electronic static. The VCR hummed as it slowly powered down.

“Blackout,” Tritia announced. She stood up and felt her way to the kitchen, where she took a flashlight from the junk drawer. She also withdrew a book of matches and two candles. “Are you coming downstairs?” she yelled to Billy.

“No. I’m going to bed.”

“At eight-thirty?”

“There’s nothing else to do.”

“You could come downstairs and read by candlelight with us,” Doug suggested facetiously.

Billy loudly snorted his derision.

Tritia lit the candles, placing them in candle holders, while Doug moved over to the front windows. “It’s kind of weird to have a blackout with no storm,” he said, pushing aside the curtains. He peered into the darkness, toward the other homes down the road, and thought he saw yellowish light filtered through the branches of the trees. “That’s strange,” he said.

“What?”

“I think the Nelsons still have power.”

“I could call them—”

“No phone,” he reminded her.

She laughed. “It’s a conspiracy.”

“It’s an adventure. We’re cut off from the world, all alone. Kind of exciting, don’t you think?”

“And romantic,” she added, moving next to him. She put a candle on the windowsill.

“I’m still awake!” Billy yelled. “Don’t do anything that’ll embarrass you later.”

They both laughed, and Doug felt Tritia’s arm snake around his waist. She drew him closer, giving him a light kiss that barely missed his mouth. “We’ll wait until he’s asleep,” she whispered, promised.