“Quincy.” She doesn’t stop moving, determined to the very end, and I keep holding her. “That’s not happening today.”
“I’ve never missed a show.” Her throat bobs around a swallow. Her bottom lip quivers. “I show up. Ialwaysshow up, Sebastian, and now I’m going to let people down.”
Her voice cracks when she says my name. I pop to my feet, making a split-second decision. My hand moves up to her hip,holding her there and bunching a fistful of her shirt near her waist. Red-rimmed eyes filled with tears blink at me, and I decide that seeing her sad is the worst goddamn feeling in the world.
“I’ll do your show,” I blurt.
“What?”
“I’ll jump on and tell everyone we have a delayed start. I’ll get you taken care of with some more painkillers and a bag of ice, then I’ll fill in for you.”
“You don’t know how to do my show. You know how to do the news.”
“You talk about weather, right?” I ask, playing dumb. As if I don’t have her intro speech memorized. As if I don’t know the theme song that plays right before she goes on the air. “Would you believe that I know how to talk about weather too?”
Quincy stares at me. I hope she can see the white flag I’m waving in the name of her health and the thing she loves the most in the world. An extended truce because it’s what she deserves.
“You would do that for me?” she asks.
“Gladly.”
She touches her hair, running her finger through the knots. “Even with the bird’s nest on my head?”
“Especially because of the bird’s nest.”
“Okay.” She nods after a stretch of silence, resolute. “Under one condition.”
“That depends on what it is, Monroe.”
“I want to sit in my office while you do the show. I can elevate my leg on the couch and show my usual viewers proof of life. I don’t want them to think I’m being held against my will.”
“Please. Like you wouldn’t go somewhere with me willingly.” I toss her a wry grin. “Get dressed, Pres. When you’re decent, your chariot will transport you to your office so we can get this show on the road.”
“I’m kicking you out while I change.” Quincy nudges me and hops on one leg to a wooden dresser under the large window in the room. My eyes travel down her thighs to her calves. She catches me looking and tosses a pair of shorts at my face. “Leave, Dunn. There’s nothing there for you.”
I laugh. “Forgive me. I couldn’t help it.”
“And I can’t help it if the next thing I throw at you is another shoe. Be a good boy and wait in the hall.”
“You know how much I like being a good boy. Your wish is my command, Quinny baby. Holler when you’re ready. I can’t wait to be an honorary guest and give your viewers what they want.”
“Didn’t lose any of that cockiness in the tornado, did you?”
“Nope. If anything, I think it’s stronger than ever.”
“Lucky me,” she says as I slip into the hall. “I’m going to humble you one of these days.”
“I’d like to see you try.” I close the door behind me and try to fight off another grin, failing miserably.
THE RAINY DAY SHOW BROADCAST
