It was Sunday afternoon. The sky darkened and the sound of thunder split the sky reverberated in their living room. Norah enjoyed the sounds of the thunderstorm. Rain was not unusual in their town, but thunderstorms were. The kitchen was permeating the air with the delicious smell of Sunday roast.

It was the 8th of November, remembrance day for her grandfather who passed away three years ago.

Her grandmother was deciding whether to open a Merlot or Chardonnay.

"I think since we're having chicken, we can go for white," she said, pushing the white wine forward.

"What about that fancy Pinot Noir? It is a special occasion. And grandpa hated white wine," Norah said with a grin.

"Of course! I completely forgot about that bottle," she said, hastily putting the wine back into the mini fridge and rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. "I'll just let it chill a little."

"When should I start on the vegetables?" Norah asked, rolling up her sleeves. They always made a lot of food together on Sunday, with plenty of leftovers for Monday.

"You have plenty of time. Why isn't Benny coming over?"

"His boyfriend is visiting."

"How lovely! You should have invited both of them!"

"I offered. But they have so little time together. Maybe next time."

"I was looking forward to our marathon," Joyce said. They would usually watch RuPaul's Drag Race together.

"How come Rafe cancelled the lesson today? Usually your Sundays are the longest sessions," she said with a wink, opening the bottle of wine with a pop. It was hard to convince Joyce that really all they did was study. She said it was not possible for two good looking teenagers to spend so much time together and only study. She once even put condoms in her schoolbag.

The last-minute cancellation had taken Norah by surprise, too. She scrolled through their conversation on her phone earlier. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He just said, 'Today's not a good day for me.'

Was he sick? Hungover? With a girl? The last thought she pushed out of her mind. It was none of her business. She trusted him enough by now to know that he wouldn't cancel the lesson if he didn't have a legitimate reason. She no longer hunted him down. But his message was too cryptic for his character. Maybe he had an argument with his father again.

She shouldn't pry.

She put the phone down again.

"Maybe he just needed a break," she said to herself with a shrug. It poured. Norah opened the windows to let the fresh breeze in. The smell of rain and grass was crisp and refreshing. She poured herself a glass too.

"You should've invited Rafe over. He still hasn't been to your house."

"He's busy today I suppose. Maybe next time. Anyway, to grandpa," they said in unison as the glasses clinked.

"You think he's enjoying heaven?" Norah asked, sitting back on the couch. She cut up all the vegetables and put them to steam.

"Yes," Joyce said, dicing the lettuce for the salad. "But he better not enjoy it too much. My friend Leslie, bless her soul, passed away when she turned forty. Car accident. Heartbreakingly young. Anyway, your granddad always fancied her a little. If I go up there one day," Joyce said pointing at the ceiling, "they better not be together, otherwise all hell will break loose." She said the last part a little louder for grandpa to hear, as if heaven was on their second floor.

Norah laughed. Her granddad would never look or be with another woman, not in this life or the next. Seeing the fun relationship of her grandparents was the only thing keeping Norah optimistic about love.

Norah's phone jumped to life on the table.

"It's Benny," Joyce said, handing her her phone.

"Hey," she answered. "Changed your mind? Our chicken is gigantic, plenty for everyone to go around."

"Hi hun, no thanks, we have a movie to catch. I'm actually calling you about Rafe."

"What about him?"

"Are you meeting him today?" he asked.

"No, he cancelled our lesson."

"Oh..."

"Why? Did you see him?" Norah asked. She gripped the phone tighter. There was a nagging feeling that something was up with Rafe.

"Yeah, it was weird, we were passing The Crown, and he came out looking like he'd had a few drinks. He almost got into a fight with some guys in the pub. Louis and I managed to diffuse the situation and drag him out of the pub."

"Shit. Where is he now?"

"We wanted to take him back home but he was angry about something and told us to leave him alone. He was going in the direction of the park. You guys didn't have a fight or something, did you?"

"No, we didn't," Norah said, raking her brain for any clues of what could've been the matter. And drinking during the day didn't sound good... and it wasn't something Rafe would be stupid enough to do... right?

After the call ended, she thought about it for a moment, but she could find no justification for Rafe's behaviour. And that he was alone was more alarming. Rafe was never alone. Finally, she headed for the door, throwing on her coat and grabbing an umbrella.

"Grandma, I'll be back in a sec. I think there's something wrong with Rafe," she said.

She nodded in understanding. "Of course. Find him, bring him over."

The rain was being blasted by the wind in all directions, Norah wasn't even sure at which angle to hold the umbrella. The flash of lighting instantly lit up the whole town before plunging it back to darkness. The clouds blocked out any signs of the sun.

Norah dialled Rafe's number, only to find the phone switched off. She wouldn't have bothered to come out at all had he not been alone. It was so very unlike Rafe.

The pathway to the park had become slippery and muddy. She mentally cursed Rafe for bringing her outdoors in this miserable weather. And cursed herself for showing him the park in the first place. This kind of weather she enjoyed only when she was inside the house reading a good book with a cup of coffee or cooking with a glass of wine. Not pushing back branches and hearing her wellies squelch in the dirt whilst the water soaked her tights.