TWENTY-FIVE Sebastian
“I can feel the cord for the microphone against my boob.” Quincy adjusts her shirt. “This is all very fancy. I miss my desk and sweatpants.”
“Never thought I’d be jealous of a microphone cord.” I fix my collar and flash her a smile. “You doing okay?”
“Okay as I can be, given the circumstances. There’s a huge hurricane heading for the state. I’m about to shit on a government agency’s forecast in front of millions of people. It’s a casual Wednesday morning in the life of a meteorological influencer.”
“Davis Kensington. That’s the guy who was questioning you back there. He’s a pretentious asshole who thinks because he went to Columbia, he’s better than everyone else. Want to know a secret?”
She moves closer to me. “Always.”
“He only graduated because his parents donated a bunch of money to the school. One of the research labs is named after his grandfather, and I’m pretty sure he still doesn’t know the difference between low-pressure and high-pressure systems.”
“So he’s an insecure man?” Quincy laughs. “Shocking.”
“Can I tell you another secret?”
“Do you not know the difference between low-pressure and high-pressure systems?”
“It has something to do with rising air, right?” I tug on the belt loop of her jeans. “I’m really proud of you. I’m sure it wasn’t easy to come down here and talk about what you found, but I’m so glad you did.”
“You also noticed the shift. That guy over in Tampa did too. I can’t take all the credit.” Her shoe bumps mine. “Still no official track change?”
“Not yet. I hope you’re ready for the attention this is going to bring you, Quinny baby. The NWS is going to be knocking on your door tomorrow morning and begging you to come work for them.”
“I don’t know about that. You haven’t heard anything about the job, have you?”
“No. I would tell you if I did. I’m guessing the final decision is going to be delayed given everything that’s happening.”
“That’s true. We have bigger things to worry about.” She rolls her shoulders back. “How is this going to work?”
“We’re going to interrupt regularly scheduled programming, then we’ll do live reporting for six to seven minutes. It’s going to be an information dump, but if you get uncomfortable, give me a signal. I’ll find a way to ease you out of the conversation so you can take a breather.”
“I remember the summer I applied for an internship here.” She levels me with a look. “Someone else got the job instead.”
“Guilty.” I give her a sheepish grin and dig through the duffel bag I brought with me to the station until I find what I’m looking for. I pull the baseball hat out and slide it on my head. “There we go. Now I’m ready for my close-up.”
“I didn’t realize the dress code was so casual.” Quincy looks at my hat. Her eyes trace over the tiny letters above the brim, The Rainy Day Show written in cursive. “Wait a minute. Is that merchandise from my show?”
“It is. And really nice quality. I had Mia buy it from your shop, then I stole it. I wear it all the time.”
“All the time,” she repeats. Her forehead wrinkles. Cute little lines form around her mouth, and I want to press my thumb to each one. To the freckles across her nose too. Fourteen of my favorite things. “What do you mean you wear it all the time?”
“Do you remember when we were in your bed and you were telling me about your family? I should’ve told you about my deepest, darkest secret.” I tap the bill of the hat. “It’s this.”
“Your secret is that you have an affinity for accessories?”
“No.” I roll my lips together, a grin nearly bursting free. “It’s that I’ve watched your show for seven years, and I’m a big fan.”
“What?”
“Yup. Haven’t missed an episode either.”
“How is that possible? You’re popular.”
“Thanks, Monroe.”
“What I mean is, you have a job. You travel for work. When do you have time to watch me ramble for an hour about cloud formations when your calendar is probably packed to the brim?”
“I make time.” I twirl her hair around my fingers. “I’m on-air at night. The days I need to be the in the studio in the morning or on location I’ll watch when I’m free, but I’ve seen every single one.”
“Why would you—I thought … we always argued growing up. You constantly picked fights with me,” she whispers. “I thought that meant you didn’t like me. That maybe you hated me.”
“Why would you ever think I hated you?” I ask. “Have you annoyed me? Of course. Did I think you were a know-it-all? Endlessly, before I realized why you were so determined to be the best in our class. But hate? No. Never that.”
“I had no idea.” Quincy gapes at me. “You’ve really watched my show for seven years?”
“Yes.”
“Every single episode?” she asks, a hand over her heart.
“Every single one.”
“Why?”
Her question makes me chuckle, the answer so simple.
Why do you think, Quinny baby? Because I’m fucking obsessed with you, and I’m so fucking proud of you.
“Because I wanted to. Because seeing you on my screen is the best part of my day. Because ever since I met you, you’ve been in my head, and watching your show made me feel like I was …” I blow out a breath, embarrassed by this next part. “Like I was home, even when I was thousands of miles away.”
“That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever told me,” she says. “Seven years—that’s a long time.”
“I can’t wait to see what you do in the next seven. World domination is next, I think.” My phone lights up, a message from Johnathan coming in and letting me know we’ll be on-air in two minutes. “You ready?”
“I guess so. You’ll be here with me?”
“The entire time.” I cup her face, drawing my thumb along her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“There’s the golden weather boy.” Quincy’s smile is faint before it stretches to a grin. “Let’s rumble, Dunn.”
I keep my pinkie hooked in hers and turn toward the laptop set up on a stool. I put in my earpiece, and there’s a few seconds of waiting. The lag between the video and the call catches up, talking beginning in my ear.
“Good morning. I’m down in Orlando, Florida, where residents are preparing for Hurricane Georgianna, that is scheduled to make landfall in about sixteen hours.
I’m joined by Dr. Quincy Monroe, who runs the nationally acclaimed The Rainy Day Show, which is where you might recognize her from.
” I laugh. “Or in Jim Cantore’s most popular social media video. ”
“That was fun,” Quincy adds.
“We have some important updates about Georgianna we want to share with everyone who might be tuning in, and I’m going to turn it over to Quincy to share more.”
“Thanks, Sebastian. Hi, folks. I’m Quincy. I’m born and raised in Oak Valley, a town right outside Orlando. My life is dedicated to meteorology, and while I wish it were under better circumstances, I’m glad I’m here with you today.”
“What can you tell us about what’s going on with Hurricane Georgianna?”
“Part of our job is to track weather based on the information the National Hurricane Center—who we call the NHC—provides. The five a.m. advisory came out recently, and based on the storm’s movement, we’re expecting landfall to be well south of the original location.
Additionally, Georgianna has increased its wind speed since last night.
It’s now a Category 4 storm, and we expect it to reach Category 5 strength prior to landfall.
While the southwest region of Florida was always in the cone of uncertainty, the habit is to rely on the centerline of the cone, which isn’t an indication of where landfall can be. ”
“What should people expect, Quincy?” I lob her way, not surprised by her even-keeled tone. “A lot of our viewers haven’t been in the heart of a Category 5 hurricane before. Heck, even I haven’t.”
“I haven’t either. If you are anywhere near the Punta Gorda area, especially in low-lying areas or mobile homes, you need to evacuate.
Immediately. We can expect tornadoes and high winds.
Several inches of rain and storm surge upwards of twenty feet.
It’s hard to believe, but the area will look completely different in twenty-four hours,” she says.
“I have some folks helping us behind the scenes, and I think we’re going to be able to …
yup. Thanks, Larry. He’s our audio-visual guy.
We’re showing you the future track that WCPT, ABC’s affiliate station in Orlando, has put together.
It does deviate from the NHC’s track, and the meteorologists we’ve talked to in Tampa and Miami are all in agreement with this predicted forecast,” I tell the camera.
“If you’re on the road, you need to shelter in place by sunset. Squalls are already approaching the state, and getting to where you should be while it’s still safe is the highest priority. Until the storm passes and the local officials give you the okay to be outside, stay where you are.”
“All great points, Quincy.” I glance her way.
“She’s not going to plug her show, but I will.
Her social media channels offer valuable information that might be beneficial to our viewers, particularly those of you who are new to Florida.
There are videos on what to put in your hurricane kit, the safest places to store important documents, and what to do if you lose power.
Her handle is @TheRainyDay Show across all platforms—it’s also right here on my hat—and I know you’ll find something useful in her resource library.
If I had to pick one person to listen to right now, it would be her. ”
“Thank you.” Quincy dips her chin to hide her blush. “The most important thing is to let everyone who is watching know they’re not alone. This is scary. There’s a lot going on, but we’re going to get through this.”
“I’m going to send it back to the studio, and we’re going to get a list posted with open shelters and official evacuations. My phone is telling me Charlotte County emergency officials are holding a press conference in twenty minutes. If you’re in the area, I urge you to tune in.”
I get the all clear that our call has ended, and I close my laptop. I pull out my earpiece and set it on my computer. “You did great, Monroe.”