I’ll be back on at eight tomorrow morning instead of nine so we can dive into the advisories that will be issued overnight and talk aboutwhat should be in your hurricane kit. It’ll only be me, but I hope y’all will still tune in.
Sebastian:
Pay attention to what officials are telling you, folks. We’re getting close to crunch time, and you don’t want to be stuck somewhere you shouldn’t be when it’s too late. To all my fans out there, thanks for the support.
Quincy:
Okay, you’re done.
Sebastian:
Darn. I was just getting started.
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 mumbledfuckcoming 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.”
