Ifwe can make it out of town.
Navigating home is going to be a nightmare, but that’s a problem for later. I want to do a lap around the town and make sure there’s not an urgent need for help. We can’t rebuild damaged property, but we can lend a hand in search and rescue efforts. It’s probably going to be needed after last night.
“I’m ready. I think my body is going to ache for days after being in that position for so long, but I know how lucky we are.” She uncoils her limbs from around mine, groaning as she stretches her back. The line of her spine pops when she stands, offering me a hand. “We should get ready for the day and see if—”
“Anyone needs help?” I finish for her, and she smiles.
“Exactly what I was going to say.”
I stand, testing the weight of my hurt leg. The pain isn’t as intense as last night, and I’m hoping I only twisted it wrong. “How do you feel after our first Category 5 hurricane together? Things are getting serious.”
“No complaints just yet.” She kisses my cheek and I run my hand up her thigh. “What comes next?”
“Don’t know. You are mine, after all.” I rest my forehead against hers. “I might ask to take you out to dinner. Maybe I’ll buy you something nice so you don’t forget about me when I’m not around. Would you like that, Quinny baby?”
“I think I would like that very much.” She grabs a T-shirt from my bag and slips it over her head. “Dinner sounds nice.”
“Hungry?” I pull away from her, digging through our bag offood. I find two bagels and a small container of peanut butter. “How’s this?”
“Breakfast of champions,” she says, knocking her food against mine.
“I guess it is breakfast time.” A quick tap on my phone tells me it’s just past six. “Wonder what it’s going to look like outside.”
“It’s always beautiful after a hurricane. I know there’s a scientific reason behind it, but I always pretend it’s the universe asking for forgiveness for the damage it caused. A sinner repenting.” Quincy takes a sip from the water bottle I hand her. “Thank you.”
“We should try to get out of here as soon as possible after we see if anyone needs assistance. The roads are going to be littered with debris. Bridges might be destroyed, and I don’t want to be driving at night.”
“Give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll be ready.” She polishes off her bagel, licking her fingers clean. “You know. If I had to be stuck in a hurricane with anyone, I’m glad it was with you, Sebastian.”
“Yeah.” I rub a hand over my chest, my heart pounding. “Me too.”
Test test.
Is this going through?
Coop?
Hello?
Are y’all all right? Power there? PG has no evacuation route yet. Will text when we can get out of city limits.
Fuck. Still no service.
When these start to go through, let me know how y’all are doing.
Hey, Johnathan. Pretty sure I got some great footage last night. When I’m back to my laptop with Wi-Fi, I’ll send you an email with all the videos.
It takes us nine hours to get home. Almost every surrounding structure has been leveled. The storm surge wasn’t as high as forecasted, but the winds caused catastrophic damage. The parking garage where I left my car is still standing. The SUV, miraculously, only has a couple dings on the hood, but other people aren’t as lucky.
Quincy is quiet on the drive out of Punta Gorda. She stares out the window, wringing her hands together while she takes in the fallen trees and power lines we pass. I reach over and put a palm on her thigh, wondering what’s running through her mind. She looks over at me and smiles, exhaustion behind her eyes, but the hint of happiness too.
“How are you doing?” I run my thumb up the line of her leg, stopping when I get to her knee.
“I hesitate to say fine, because everything around us is very not fine. I’m doing okay, but it’s very clear others are not.” She sighs. “It’s so sad to see an aftermath like this. I know it’s inevitable. I know it’s what happens after every storm, no matter where you live, but knowing the rebuilding these folks are going to have to do is a tough reality to grapple with. They losteverything, and here I am, wishing I could take a shower.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” I say, and she turns in the seat so she’s facing me. She leans in close, an arm on my shoulder, and I squeeze her knee.
“You can tell me anything,” she answers, and I know I can.
