It had been a long night filled with people crowding our house and talking all at once. My mother alternated between crying and wailing, giving me a headache. The television blared the local station, flashing scenes from the Rockford Files with the occasional news update interrupting the program. Everyone jumped when the kitchen phone rang and hushed to hear who was calling. The cacophony returned when it was determined to be someone wanting to know if there was any new information. There wasn’t.
Outside, the storm raged. Branches blew from the trees into the pool, the patio chairs were on their sides and the umbrella was gone, but no one noticed except me. I sat alone in my father’s home office, looking out at our huge backyard overshadowed by a hill. Lights from the house illuminated the ripples on the dark water; a sharp contrast to the mild evenings of the past week.