24
Savannah
March 11, 2013
We landed in the Savannah humidity the next afternoon. The air hit me in the face, and I nearly cried again, thinking about all the days out in this weather with Gramps. The news kept hitting me fresh. It was still too real. And at the same time, completely unfathomable.
“Who’s picking us up?” I asked, brushing aside the tears again. I’d put the entire trip into his hands. I hadn’t even considered who could get us at the airport.
“Dad offered to send a driver.”
“In Savannah?”
“Well, yeah.”
“I could have called Maddox.”
“While you’re all grieving? No.”
He seemed so adamant that I just went with it.
Derek recognized a man in the crowd. They shook hands, and then we were escorted into the back of a black Mercedes. It’d have made me feel vaguely important
