Page 80 of Love in the Lab
Molly:
Mhmm
Nicole:
Good luck!
Olivia:
Good luck!
Friday morning, Jonathan and I meet Dr. Gantt for breakfast and to go over our presentation one last time. I’m all nerves, in stark contrast to Jonathan and his typical laid-back ease. I do feel ready, though. I know this research backward and forward and inside out. I could talk about it for days, never mind forty-five minutes. Even still, our time slot is at eleven, so I’mconcerned everyone will be over the presentations and ready to get to lunch.
We walk into the presentation room fifteen minutes early. Dr. Gantt meets the facilitator at the front of the room to check that the slide deck is queued up and the projector is working. Sure enough, the title slide from our deck soon looms over the room on two large screens at the front.
People start trickling in, and soon every seat is full. A few people stand at the back or sit against the walls on the side of the room. I see Almay Jones from the Hollings Lab seated in the second row. She’s with a few other colleagues, all with notebooks or tablets out to take notes.
Earlier this year, I was in the audience for a presentation Nicole gave at a library conference in New Orleans. It was packed almost as much as this room. I get the feeling, though, that her audience was more supportive. We are absolutely collegial in science—don’t get me wrong—but there’s also a degree of competition.
One of the whole points of preprint servers is to establish early ownership of an idea so no one else can swoop in and claim it.
I’m not half as talented a public speaker as Nicole, but I’m not nearly as bad as her boyfriend and co-presenter, Adam. Plus, Jonathan’s triple helping of charm can’t be for nothing. We’ll be okay. Right?
The presentation begins with Dr. Gantt, and then we pass back and forth between the three of us until we share our final takeaways. The facilitator opens the floor for questions, and I breathe a sigh of relief. The presentation went smoothly. I feel good about it.
The satisfaction turns sour in my stomach though when the questions start coming. Some are supportive and similar to the questions raised in the comments for the preprint article. Twomembers of the audience, in particular, don’t hide their derision as they try to pick apart the project.
A tall man with thinning white hair directs his questions solely to Jonathan, the only man sitting on a panel that also includes the PI and the originator of the research. To his credit, Jonathan sits with his hands in his pockets and a pleasant smile on his face while Dr. Gantt and I respond.
“Your results don’t seem to be generalizable. You tracked one hurricane in one location. What makes you think that represents the effects of all hurricanes in all locations?”
“We aren’t claiming to represent all hurricanes in all locations,” Dr. Gantt clarifies. “We’re reporting on our early findings from this particular hurricane event. We’ll continue to track conditions to see if we can link the tropical system with any harmful algal bloom outbreaks in our area.”
“I can’t see what impact this has, then,” another man on the other side of the room grumbles.
“It’s a starting point,” I say firmly. “A starting point for collaboration efforts across organizations to better protect against harmful algal blooms.”
Several people in the audience clap at my words, including a certain tall, handsome, curly-haired scientist to my right. He’s a little biased, though.
The room settles down after that. We field a few more questions, including one about the safety of the fieldwork aspect of launching the gliders ahead of the storm. Jonathan gives a good answer, highlighting modifications he would recommend for similar future voyages.
I wonder if he’s thinking about that hot kiss in the rain. Definitely not something I would want to change about that trip. If Jonathan’s thinking anything similar, he’s better at hiding it. He’s cool and calm as he talks, while I can feel myself blushing at the direction my thoughts are taking.
Finally, the facilitator announces that we’re out of time, and the room starts to clear. A few of the audience members make their way to the front to ask additional questions or compliment our research. Fortunately, the two men who were looking for holes to poke exit quickly.
Dr. Almay Jones is one of the people who approaches us. Well, me, really. She shakes my hand. “Wonderful presentation, Dr. Delaney. Do you have lunch plans today? I’d love to sit with you and discuss your research further.”
“Uh…” I glance at Dr. Gantt, who’s deep in conversation with someone from the audience. Then I look at Jonathan. Someone is talking to him, too, asking about the type of boats we have, but I can tell Jonathan is focused on me, not on the colleague in front of him. He gives me an almost imperceptible nod, pairing it with a grin that tips up just the side of his mouth that’s closest to me. “That sounds great,” I finally respond.
After a three-hour lunch and conversation with Dr. Jones, I retreat to the quiet of my hotel room. I text Jonathan so he doesn’t worry about where I am.
Jonathan:
Do you want me to come up?
Molly:
Not right now. I just need to decompress. Come by at 4?
