I want summer rain. I want dark billowing clouds and warm wind sweeping through the trees. I want the sound of steady rain on the roof of my porch while I sit in a rocking chair underneath.
Jo, you love him. What? No, no I don’t. Yes, you do! I am half as smart as you, but I can see it so plainly. You love him. Doesn’t she love him? It’s a good instinct. You love him. I have never seen you so happy. What else is love?