TWENTY-FOUR Quincy
I rub my eyes and blearily reach for the coffee machine. A gallon of caffeine won’t be enough to keep me awake, but I’m going to hope it does the trick. The last four days have flown by with live videos, posts on social media, and getting thirty minutes of sleep where I can.
We’re hours away from Georgianna’s landfall, and it’s going to be a long day. An even longer night is waiting for me, and I need to get a jump start on my energy.
“I was wondering when you were going to get up,” a voice says from behind me. I yelp and almost drop the mug I’m holding. I fumble for something to defend myself with, deciding on a ladle and holding it high in the air. “Really? A kitchen utensil?”
“Harlow. You scared the shit out of me.” I take a deep breath. “You know I always love to see you, but what are you doing here? You hate early mornings.”
“I was still awake and saw your bedroom light on. You’re going to have a busy day, and I wanted to see if I could help. Mia will be here in a minute too.”
“My girls.” I jab the coffee machine, grateful when it kicks on and starts brewing. “Is your house ready for the storm? You brought in your lawn furniture and—”
“And filled my bathtub with water, found my flashlights, cleaned out my fridge and freezer, grabbed a case of water from the grocery store, and boarded up the windows in my sunroom with wood, not tape.” Harlow grins and takes a seat at my kitchen table, getting comfortable. “Are you proud?”
“So proud.”
I laugh when the front door creaks open.
Heavy footsteps pound down the hall, a mumbled fuck coming next when a knee collides with the table in the foyer.
Years of being friends with Mia has taught me she’s the least stealthy person I know, and when she rounds the corner into the kitchen holding a brown paper bag and wearing her pajamas, I’m not at all surprised.
“Looks like the party already started.” Mia yawns and heads for the cabinets, pulling down three plates. “I come bearing gifts.”
“I’m glad the keys I gave y’all for emergencies are getting good use,” I say.
“This is obviously an emergency. You didn’t want to sleep a little longer?”
“I tried. I tossed and turned all night then gave up.” I peek inside the bag she brought. “What kind of gifts are we talking about?”
“Some of Nate’s bagels. I asked for a special batch.” Mia doles out a cinnamon sugar, blueberry, and everything, adding a container of cream cheese to the mix. “You need to eat.” She looks over at Harlow whose head is starting to droop. “You too, Har.”
“Hm? I’m awake.” Harlow yawns and sits up. “No sleep for me.”
“Thanks for being here.” I fill my mug and slide into the chair across from Harlow. Mia joins us, cutting the bagels into thirds and distributing them. “It means a lot.”
“The extent of my hurricane knowledge is everything I’ve learned from your show,” Harlow says around a bite of cinnamon sugar. “But we want to make sure you’re having some sustenance before you go off and chase a monster storm. Have there been any changes in Georgianna’s track overnight?”
“We don’t usually see big movements this close to landfall, but with a hurricane coming directly at the state, it’s important to check.” I pop a piece of blueberry bagel in my mouth and groan. “I love carbs.”
“I have so much respect for the women who don’t eat bread.” Mia grabs my laptop and hands it my way, reading my mind. “I’d turn into a bitch if someone tried to take away the sourdough I make once a month.”
“Once a month? My god. You really are living a happily ever after,” Harlow says. “Even my cold little heart can appreciate that.”
“I really am. I knew I’d convert you.” Mia beams and glances at me. “Are you driving to Tampa?”
“Yeah. Landfall is expected later tonight as a Category 3, and I want to make sure I have time to get set up before conditions deteriorate. I’m planning on doing a live stream before, during, and after the storm, cell service permitting.
” I house down another piece of bagel. “This one is going to do a lot of damage.”
“What’s your plan for a place to stay?” Harlow asks. “You’re not going to be out in the elements the whole time, are you?”
“Gosh, no. I’m still shaken up from that tornado earlier this summer, and I fully respect Mother Nature’s power.
There are parking garages that should protect me from the worst of the winds.
I found a couple shelters near where I’ll be live streaming I could hunker down in if needed.
” I wipe my fingers clean from cream cheese and pull up the NHC’s website. “Where are y’all going to be?”
“At my house. Cooper and Nate are coming over. Being with a firefighter sounds like a safe plan, and out of the four of us, my place is on the highest ground.” Mia folds her napkin and dabs at her mouth. “I’m nervous. I didn’t want to be alone, and this storm is scaring me.”
“Wait. Where is Richard?” I ask.
“Out of town. Again. His flight home cancelled.” Her smile slips, and she hangs her head.
“Things have been off since game night at your house, Quin. He keeps making comments about why I should take his last name. I know it’s not a big deal but …
I worked hard to put my name on those books.
And, sure, I love him very much, but that success? It’s all me.”
“I’m team Mia Dunn,” Harlow says. “You were successful before him. Why does he get the credit you achieved on your own?”
“Quin?” Mia turns my way. “What do you think?”
“I agree with Harlow. If I ever published in a scientific journal, I’d want it under Quincy Monroe. I’ve been Quincy Monroe for so long, and this part of me will always be Quincy Monroe.”
“I knew he was wrong to get upset with me.” She sighs. “Anyway. There are more important things happening right now than author names.”
“I’m glad the four of you will be together in one spot tonight.” I squint at my laptop. The lack of sleep is catching up to me. “Huh. That’s not right.”
“What’s not right?” Harlow asks. She looks over my shoulder and wrinkles her nose. “I admire your brain, Quin. None of this makes any sense to me.”
I roll my lips together, trying to figure out an easy way to explain it to them.
“The advisory that just came out doesn’t show any track changes, but the storm …
shifted? What in the world?” I frown and refresh the page.
There’s a chance I’m interpreting it wrong.
I’m doing my best to analyze something in an exhausted fog and coming up short. “I’m so confused.”
“You work your magic, Quin.” Mia stands and helps herself to a glass of orange juice. “We’ll be here when you figure it out.”
They let me work in silence. I down the rest of my coffee and do a lap around the kitchen to clear my head.
Time stretches on. I stare at my computer, then understanding dawns.
My hand trembles. The blood drains from my face when I take a screenshot of Georgianna’s satellite imagery and blow it up to full size.
“Shit,” I whisper. “Oh my god.”
“What’s wrong?” Mia asks.
“The official track is wrong.” The realization tastes like lead.
Every synapse in my brain fires away, working in overdrive, and my heart drops to my feet.
“The forecast shows a northern track with a north-northeast turn happening in the next few hours. That would put landfall near Tampa, which is what we’ve been talking about for three days. ”
“Okay,” Harlow says slowly. “Is that the problem?”
“If you look at the radar, Georgianna isn’t moving north anymore.
The storm is very clearly going north-northeast. Right now.
It’s been steered by a high-pressure system, which is causing the shift in the track.
If I draw a straight line from the eye through the state—” I grab a napkin and hold it up to my screen. “See? It puts landfall farther south.”
“What does that mean?” Mia asks.
“It means …” I trail off. My lungs feel like they’re being squeezed tight.
“It means we’re evacuating the wrong people.
It means the storm is on a path that will bring a direct hit to Southwest Florida, and no one is prepared.
The worst part isn’t even the shift in the track.
Georgianna is doing this thing called rapid intensification. ”
“That doesn’t sound good.” Harlow scoots her chair closer. “Definition, please?”
“In the eleven p.m. advisory last night, the winds were at a Category 2 strength. Now they’re up to Category 4 strength.
The barometric pressure is continuing to drop, and with warm ocean water still ahead of it, it can get even worse.
” I lift my chin and look up at my friends, needing familiarity as I try to process everything that’s happening.
“This will be a Category 5 hurricane that makes landfall in less than twenty-four hours, and the goddamn National Hurricane Center hasn’t changed their goddamn track. ”
“Quin.” Mia puts her hand on my arm. Her palm shakes, fear radiating off her. “You need to tell Sebastian. Between the two of you and your platforms plus his pull at ABC …” She swallows. “You could get the word out.”
I’m already standing. I’m already making a list of the people I need to call and the things I need to do.
I think about the families down in Charlotte County who are waking up expecting feeder bands and a day off from school.
They’re prepared for gusty winds, the occasional bout of heavy rain, but nothing too serious.
Someone has to tell them what’s heading their way, and I’ve never hated my job more.
I scramble for my phone and find my text thread with Sebastian.
His Good night, Quinny baby. Dream of me message is right at the top, with a little blue heart at the end of it.
Another one must’ve come through a few minutes ago, a selfie of him in a room with a hickey on his neck and a proud smirk.
Hair rumpled and messy. Morning, sunshine, typed underneath it, and I think I could cry.