At twenty-five, Nathan had resigned himself to life without women, finding emotional consolations in his music; then he"d met Dorothy and he was crazy about her.
They wandered through the quiet town. Ma was out visiting an old friend from her pawn broking days and would not return until well into the evening. They lingered in front of the Town Buildings, admiring the flowerbeds packed with marigolds, dahlias, and borders of yellow and purple pansies. A scattered flotilla of grey clouds drifted up the Firth, threatening broadsides of rain, casting shadows overhead. Dorothy held Nathan"s hand, pressing and kneading his fingers, sending jolts to their very tips. Nathan returned the pressure, and she smiled at him.
“It"s going to rain,” Nathan said.
Few people were around when they turned i
