"What happened to summer?" he asked over his shoulder.
I laughed a little. "It’s not summer yet, and for spring in New England, this makes perfect sense."
He turned his head forward and stared at the door. "You haven’t been around long enough."
His tone had changed. Since he actually sounded a little belligerent, I chose to respond simply by smiling at the back of his head.
"I said 'you haven’t been around long enough.'"
I thought about telling him that I grew up in the Northeast and was already well accustomed to the vagueries of spring rains. I decided it was probably best to let it lie.
The door opened on the first floor, and as he stepped out of the car, he left me with, "This is shitty weather."
He might as well have been shaking his fist at me. I wished him a pleasant evening.
I wondered how many people had, at that moment, made similar declarations, each a little prayer to change the things we cannot control. I also wondered if I am the only person in this city who can go outside on a day like today and think it beautiful.