the rain.
I stood behind the locked door until I recognized Bradley.
He ran onto the porch soaked through.
“What are you doing here?”
“The west dock line.”
“What?”
“Dad always doubled it during storms from this direction.”
I had forgotten.
Bradley had not.
He grabbed Daniel’s old raincoat and spent twenty minutes outside in the storm securing the dock while I held a flashlight from the porch.
When he finally came inside, water poured from his clothes.
I handed him a towel.
Neither of us mentioned the fact that
