“We interrupt our regular programming to bring you this weather alert. That hurricane we’ve all been watching for the last week and hoping would settle down has picked up in intensity. And it’s made a surprising turn that not many of the models had expected. The National Hurricane Center has issued a hurricane warning for the following counties…”
Her attention snapped to the radio as the announcer listed their county among others. She’d lived on Magnolia Key long enough to know that tone. Knew that carefully measured voice that tried to convey urgency without causing panic.
“Hurricane Camille has shifted course and is now expected to make landfall along the southwestern coast of Florida. Current projections show the storm reaching category two and possibly three strength before impact.”
The coffee cup in Cliff’s hand remained suspended halfway to his mouth. Around the cafe, conversations stopped. Papers lowered. Heads turned toward the radio.
“Residents in coastal areas should begin preparation immediately. Heavy rainfall of up to ten inches expected.”
Her mind kicked into preparation mode. If it was headed this way, she needed to board up the windows. Move everything inside. Check her generator. Call her supplier to cancel deliveries for later in the week. The mental checklist grew with each passing second.
She caught Maxine’s eye across the room. Her friend’s face mirrored her own concern. They’d been through storms before, but category three was not one to ignore. That was serious.
“All residents should be prepared for extended power outages and limited access to emergency services. It is highly suggested that people on the outer islands consider evacuating. Mandatory evacuation orders will be coming as we know more.”
The radio continued with more details of wind speeds, precipitation estimates, and storm surge predictions. But her thoughts raced ahead to what needed to be done. The cafe’s windows weren’t impact-resistant. She’d meant to upgrade them last year, but kept putting it off. She could use the old hurricane shutters again. The storage room had supplies from the last storm, but she needed to check what was still good.
“Maxine,” she said, her voice cutting through the radio’s drone. “Help me check the hurricane kit?”
“Of course.” Maxine stood, already moving toward the storage room.
The other customers began gathering their things, their movements carrying the hurried energy of people who suddenly had too much to do and too little time. Tony folded his newspaper with quick, sharp movements. Mrs. Henderson fumbled in her purse for her phone, likely calling her daughter on the mainland.
She glanced at the wall of windows facing the street. The sky still looked deceptively peaceful, showing no hint of the chaos heading their way. But she knew how quickly that could change. She’d seen sunny mornings turn into howling tempests often enough growing up here.
She turned back toward the storage room, nearly colliding with Cliff, who still stood near the counter, his coffee forgotten in his hand. For a moment, their earlier tension seemed to hover between them, but then he set down his cup.
“Can I do anything?”
“No, I’ve got it.”
The radio droned on with evacuation routes and emergency shelter locations, but she turned her focus to what needed doing. She had a lot to do and not much time to do it.
Chapter 5
Eleanor and Jonah stood on her front porch. Jonah had already hauled her hurricane shutters to the porch, leaning them against the railings. She usually hired out any hurricane preparations, but her usual handyman was swamped this time now that the hurricane had changed its course and was headed their direction. Jonah had insisted on putting up the shutters for her.
“I’m glad I got the top floors outfitted with hurricane windows. At least you won’t have to climb up high to hang the shutters up there. I’m scheduled to have the rest of the windows replaced, but they won’t be in for another month or so.” Eleanor scowled. “Should have gotten them all done at the same time.”
“It’s no problem, Ellie. I already have the shutters up at my place. Helps that my place is just one story, and one of the previous owners put up accordion hurricane blinds.”
“I just have these horrible shutters that need to be screwed into place. It’s a lot of work.”
Jonah picked up the drill. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll have them up in no time.”
She glanced over at her dog, Winston, who was pacing the porch. “Winston is always a bit nervous when a hurricane is coming. He senses them.”
Jonah reached down and petted Winston’s head. “It’s okay, buddy.”
Eleanor looked up, surprised to see Cliff pull his fancy car up to the curb. Her fingers gripped the porch railing. Winston stopped his pacing and sat beside her, his tail thumping against the wooden boards.
“Mother.” Her son strode up the walkway, his expensive shoes clicking against the pavement. His suit looked out of place on Magnolia Key. Always had to dress to impress. Even in a hurricane.
She tapped her fingers on the railing. “Cliff.”
“Mr. Burton.” Cliff nodded to Jonah, who had paused in his work on the shutters.
“Cliff.” Jonah’s response was polite but cool.
