Chapter 9

The day after she arrived it began to rain. The wind was cool and hard. She remembered her grandmothers old wooden porch at the back of the house, the one her father had built that spring for grandmothers birthday. She would stay there on weekends and when it would rain or storm, she would sit in a rocking chair on the back porch, pull the old rag rug around her and let the drops pelt her face. The more violent the storm, the more at home she felt. Her grandmother would always yell through the screen door for her to come in. Her grandmother was too afarid to come out into the storm.
It had rained the night she found him. He was face down but she knew it was him. He was wearing the shirt she had bought for him on her trip to Nashville. She couldnt bring herself to turn him over. She walked away. When people asked her later if she had seen him, she said no. She would wait for them to tell her.
No, this was not where she should stay. Las Vegas did not feel right. He would have liked it here.