Chapter 4. We Close Our Eyes

Though it is Saturday night, this normally crowded street is nearly deserted, because it is pouring rain. A cold, relentless rain that seeps into my shoes and clings to my body. The cold cuts straight through me, numbing my hands and feet.
The few people who have chosen to brave the storm are huddled in doorways and under awnings. Anne and I share a too-small umbrella in a futile attempt to stay dry.
It is November, and we are in Santa Barbara for our anniversary, walking back to our hotel after the first romantic dinner we’ve enjoyed in months.
It has been a wonderful evening, ending a wonderful day. We haven’t had much time to simply be together, to just enjoy each other’s company, for several weeks.
I cherish every rain-soaked moment.
The storm intensifies as we hurry back to our hotel, turning downspouts to waterfalls, and the street into a small stream. Normally, the urge to stomp in puddles is irresistible to me, but the numbness creeps up my legs, and I need little encouragement to leave the puddles alone.
After a few blocks, the cold and rain is too much for me. I suggest that we stop, and hail a cab.
Anne stops, and looks at me, her blue eyes gleaming. She says they’re green, but they’re blue . . . I see them whenever my mind wanders, so I know.
She steps out of the feeble shelter our umbrella provides, and stands unprotected in the rain.
“I want to walk ...
Become an O’Reilly member and get unlimited access to this title plus top books and audiobooks from O’Reilly and nearly 200 top publishers, thousands of courses curated by job role, 150+ live events each month,
and much more.
Read now
Unlock full access