It Pours (Chambers of the Heart Book 2)

by C D Cain

  “Oh sure, Flossie. Take over where Mom left off.”

  “Not like dis, Charlie Grace.” Flossie’s voice was as tender as the eyes that held Charlie Grace. “Not here. Not like dis.” She softly shook her head as she led me into the kitchen.

  I heard chair legs scrape across the hardwood floor as Charlie Grace said, “Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.”

  “What just happened?” Nadine’s was the last voice I heard before Flossie had me outside on the back porch.

  “That was a complete disaster.”

  “Come on, sis. I gots something to sho’ you.” Flossie’s hand was soft with the thinness of her skin over the prominent bones in her hand. “Thinkin’ this may make you feel better.”

  She led me around the corner of the house to the circle drive. A full moon’s light reflected off of the faded yellow paint of Memaw’s Silverado pickup truck. My knees buckled with surprise and sadness. Meems.

  “Flossie? How?”

  “Old fart left’n for me.” Her smile was edged with grief. “Dat lawyer, you know the one dat read her will, gave me the keys and a note in her scribble. All’n she put on dat paper was ‘get outta dat damn home’. I do it too. I drive dis piece a junk ‘round for her.”

  She walked to the driver’s door and opened it for me. In the stillness of the night, the horrendous screech sounded for miles. A light-hearted laugh tickled my heart before it escaped my mouth. I let the smile play upon my lips as I traced the vinyl bench seat with my hand.

  “I didn’t think I would see this truck again. I’ve wondered what happened to it but I was scared to know the answer. I guess I thought Mother had it taken to the wrecking yard to be sold for scrap.”

  Flossie dropped the keys in my hand and I swear she skipped around the front of the truck to climb into the passenger seat. I sat in the seat and ran my hand along the narrow steering wheel. I let my fingers slide over the notches along the back. The cold vinyl seat quickly cooled the back of my legs as my blue jeans were little barrier for the November chill that had dropped the temperature twenty degrees earlier in the day. The sound of the engine caused another ripple of happiness to course through me. I pushed the levers of the thermostat to the right which released the smell of heat into the cab. I pulled the knob on the bottom left of the dashboard and smiled at the headlights shining across the yard. Meems was here. The thought of her spirit surrounding us lifted my soul and my spirits. She was here. I let my forehead rest against the wheel once held in her hands. Deep breaths filled my lungs.

  “Let’s take her for a spin,” Flossie said as she rubbed my back.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi, yourself.”

  “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

  “Are you sure you want that?” Mo said as she straddled across my waist. She leaned her back against my legs when I bent them behind her. “I mean, I sort of thought you liked meeting like this.” She raised up off of my legs and let her fingers travel down my bare stomach. “Or so it seemed early this morning.”

  My tongue ran across the sore spot at the corner of my lower lip as I remembered her surprise knock at the door. She had hardly waited for the taxi to pull away before taking my breath with a kiss filled with passionate need. We had not made it further than the couch before she had me undressed and totally surrendered to her control.

  She touched the break in the skin my tongue had roamed over. She made a face of remorse. “I’m sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be.”

  “I am. I didn’t mean to bite you.” She placed a small kiss at the corner of my lip and whispered, “I just needed those clothes off so bad but I couldn’t stop kissing you.”

  Butterflies swarmed across my belly when I remembered her teeth biting into my lip. “I’m serious. Don’t be. It was ummmmm…”

  She gave me a mischievous smile. “It was ummmmm what?”

  “I’ll show you what.” I pulled her lips to mine and kissed her with the matching intensity she had given me the night before.

  “Oh, that?”

  “Yes. That.” I unzipped the leather at the wrist of her jacket. “I like this outfit you’ve got going on here.”

  “Well, I had to put something on to call and order the pizza.”

  “I’m not sure if a leather jacket and,” I slipped my finger underneath the waistband of her black boy-cut briefs, “these constitutes putting something on.”

  “Would you like for me to put something else on?”

  I kissed the tattoo at her wrist and traced my tongue over ink. “Oh, I didn’t say that.”

  She started to slip her arm from the jacket. “Would you like for me to take some of this off?”

  I put my hand on her arm. “Oh, I didn’t say that either.” I dropped my hand to rove the exposed skin between her breasts and down her belly to her right hip. “How about you stay just like that.”

  The muscles of her belly tightened as I trailed my fingertip along the musical notes leading over the side of her hip. “How much time do we have until the pizza gets here?”

  Her breath was shallow and rapid through parted lips. Her eyes were filled with desire as she guided my hand to where she needed it most. “Enough.”

  I couldn’t take my eyes off of her as she gave herself to me. I watched what my touch did to her body. It was open, exposed, and raw to let me see all she felt. My heart beat wildly against my chest. I didn’t need her to touch me as I couldn’t have felt more had her hands been on me. We held our stares as my fingertips explored her. Her body rocked as it remained straddled over me. I lost sight of her eyes when her head fell back with release. She collapsed next to me and struggled to catch her breath.

  “Holy cow.” She labored to slow her breaths. “That…was…incredible.” She bent her arm over her forehead. “Give…me…a…second…to…catch…my…breath.”

  The knock on the door was loud and we both jumped.

  I laughed. “That is what I would call perfect timing.” I stood up and put on my robe.

  She attempted to reach for my body but her hand plopped down on the bed. “Yes, I need sustenance.”

  I skipped down the hallway and called over my shoulder, “I’ll be back and then you really are in trouble.”

  “Someone call an ambulance.”

  Thankfully, both a twenty and a five-dollar bill lay on the table next to the door which would save the need for change or further delay from climbing back into bed with Mo. “Here you go. Keep the change,” I said as I slung the door open.

  “It’s two o’clock in the afternoon. Why on earth are you still in your robe?” Charlie Grace stood at the door.

  “Mother?”

  “Why are you still in bed this late in the afternoon? Were you on call last night?” She started to step inside the door but stopped when I hadn’t moved away for her entrance. She gripped the leather strap of her purse that hung over her shoulder. “Aren’t you going to let me in?”

  “Mother? What are you doing here? And no, I wasn’t on call last night.”

  She stepped back on her heels. “Our phone calls have been sparse, short, and tense since Thanksgiving. I was hoping we could talk face to face. Perhaps over a day of Christmas shopping. Grant told me when I talked with him that you weren’t on call so I was hoping my timing would be good.”

  “This isn’t a good time.”

  There’s a half-dressed woman in my bed. This really isn’t a good time.

  “Let me get dressed and I’ll come pick you up. Where are you staying?”

  Charlie Grace took a side step to reveal a small suitcase that had been hidden behind her.

  “Oh?”

  Shit.

  “I can go find a hotel if you don’t want me staying here.”

  Double shit.

  “No, I didn’t say that. It’s just you’ve never stayed h
ere before so I assumed this was no different.”

  “I think we could use the time. Don’t you?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I mean, yes. Just let me think for a second.” I held my hand in the air in a failed attempt to hold onto anything that would steady my jerking knees.

  “Think?”

  “I’m starving over here. Wear a girl out and then hold food from her. So wrong.”

  NO!

  Charlie Grace’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open.

  I winced at the sight flashing before my eyes of Mo dressed in leather and cotton briefs. Surely that was the sight causing the look on Charlie Grace’s face.

  “Er…” A young man carrying a pizza box walked up behind Charlie Grace. His face was flushed and his neck was reddening. “I’ve got a pizza delivery here.” He reached around the stone statue that was my mother.

  I placed the palms of my hands firmly against my eyes and pushed in with force in the hopes of blocking out the scene that was playing out in front of me. Nope. Everyone still stood in place. My only assumption was Mo was as frozen behind me as the two in front of me.

  I took the box from the boy and handed him the folded bills. “Keep the change.”

  He scurried away without another word.

  Charlie Grace blinked before she looked back and forth between my face and the one that must have been over my right shoulder. “Rayne, there’s a half-dressed woman standing behind you.” She looked back at me. “And you’re hardly dressed yourself.”

  All I could do was step aside to allow her in and hopefully close the door before my neighbors saw the chaos unfold. “I suppose you should come inside, Mother.”

  “I’m not sure I want to do that now.” Her fingers whitened as her fist tightened on the purse strap.

  “You’re not one for scenes, Mother. Please let’s not change that now.”

  She pursed her lips as she stepped past me. She left the overnight bag at the door. I wheeled the bag inside, closed the door, and turned. Mo’s outfit, which had caused a much different reaction in the pit of my stomach, was now the highlight of the scene that could very well be the collapse of my life as a known straight woman. I leaned the bag against the wall and came to stand between Charlie Grace and Mo as they gazed at each other.

  “I’m going to go get dressed.” Mo’s voice cracked.

  “Yes, I think that would be a novel idea, young lady.”

  “Mother,” I said sternly and then looked back at Mo. “I’ve got this. Why don’t you go back to the bedroom?”

  “Back to the bedroom? What the hell’s going on here, Rayne?” Charlie Grace let her purse fall with a thud to the floor.

  Mo looked between us before retreating down the hallway into the back room.

  “Mother, please calm down. Let’s talk.”

  “Talk? You want to talk?”

  “Yes, I would like to talk. Can we go sit down?” I pointed to the sofa in the living area.

  “No, we cannot sit down. There is a half-naked woman in your apartment. A half-naked woman that obviously knows her way to your bedroom. And more importantly, it seems you’re just as naked as she is.”

  “Can we get off the subject of our clothing and onto why you pop in on me since we’ve barely talked in the last couple of weeks?”

  “I don’t see that as being the topic at hand. So, no we cannot.”

  “This is my home. I’m a grown woman. I can live and do in my own home as I wish. You came unannounced.”

  “Oh, please excuse my ill manners. I didn’t know I had to call and ask my daughter permission to come see her.” She put her hand over her chest as if she was appalled I had made such an accusation.

  “Don’t get dramatic.”

  “Me? Me get dramatic? Look at your hair.” She flipped my bangs between her fingers before I could move my head out of her reach.

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Well, look at it. You cut it so short and then bleach these ridiculous looking highlights. Is that her? Is that her influence?” She pointed down the hallway to the closed bedroom door.

  “I can wear my hair however I want.” I tightened the loosening robe around my waist. It was that or slam my hand down on the table in front of us, which would have given her a real reason to call me the dramatic one. I would not give her that pleasure. This was my house—my life.

  “Is Miss I-don’t-wear-clothes the reason you called off your engagement? Does Grant know about her?”

  “No, she isn’t actually, and no, he doesn’t. Couldn’t you give me a little credit that maybe he isn’t being completely honest here? That maybe he isn’t an innocent victim? That maybe all of this is not entirely my fault? Every time I called you, all you could do was say how I hurt him. How this was all of my fault. Have you ever considered maybe there is more to this story?”

  “Oh yes, I’m beginning to see that now. You’re sleeping with a woman, Rayne Amber Storm. Please tell me how you can twist this around to be anything but a result of your own actions and therefore entirely your fault.”

  “Whatever, Mother.”

  “I’m sorry, this is somehow Grant’s fault? Or hey, better yet, maybe you can turn this around to being a result of my bad mothering.”

  I let my back fall against the wall. “I didn’t say that. I never said that. This is me. This is who I am and who I’ve always been.”

  “Who you are? So, you’re gay all of a sudden?”

  “Not all of a sudden.”

  “So little Miss Hot-to-trot is going to be my son-in-law? Is that what you’re saying? You hear that little Miss Hot-to-trot.” She raised her voice. “Are you going to be my son-in-law now?” She started to walk down the hallway toward the bedroom.

  I grabbed her arm above her elbow to stop her. “Leave her alone, Mother. She has nothing to do with me and you or even Grant. She never tried to come between us or ask me to make any changes where he was concerned.”

  “Oh, she just fucked you.”

  I felt my eyes widen to the callous tone of her foul language. I couldn’t remember a time I had heard her ever use that word before. Much less did I ever imagine she would use it in such a way toward me.

  “Well, that makes it all the better, doesn’t it?” Just as quickly as the vulgarity had flown, she returned to the southern belle accent and tone.

  “I think you need to go.”

  She picked up her purse and gave me the hardest look I have received from her eyes. “Yes, I think I should.”

  Several minutes passed before I could walk into the bedroom. I hated the fact Mo had not only been a witness to Charlie Grace’s worse side but she had also had a portion of it directed at her.

  “You’re not staying?”

  Mo looked up from her duffle bag. “I think it would be best if I didn’t. Don’t you?” She turned back to the bag and shoved a pair of folded jeans into it.

  “Actually, no. I don’t.” I leaned against the doorjamb. “I was hoping you would stay.”

  Mo stopped her packing and sat hard on the edge of the bed. “Rayne, that was a bit much, you know?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t think I want to be here when she gets back.”

  “She won’t come back.”

  “Ha. I somehow don’t think all of that is over yet.”

  “Oh no. It’s not.” The crumbled white linen behind her was a sore reminder of the time we had lost with Charlie Grace’s surprise visit. Even without her consciously knowing, she was playing a hand in the demise of Mo and me. “She’ll wait for me to come to her. She won’t come back here.” She won’t have to.

  Mo bent over to put on a sock. “I’ve never really had to deal with the whole parent issue.” She put the other sock on over her toes. “Mine were gone before my being a lesbian was an issue and well…” She ran her
thumb underneath the band of the sock and patted the side of her leg.

  “You’ve never been the girlfriend type to have to deal with it before either.”

  Mo sat straight up but looked at the wall instead of me. “No, I haven’t.”

  I sat next to her on the bed. “I’m not asking you to be my girlfriend or do any of what you just saw because of me. You know that, right?”

  “I know.” She traced her fingers down the finger recently bare of the white gold engagement ring. “This never bothered me. I mean, it didn’t change us.”

  “I know.” I kicked at her duffle bag with my big toe. “And it doesn’t have to change us now.”

  “Did you do it for me? Break off your engagement because of me? Because of what you wanted or hoped would become of us?”

  “Well.” I leaned back on my elbows. “Not because of you, per se, but in a sense because of this.” I motioned between us. “A part of the reason is because of the feelings I have when I’m with you. I knew with S… I knew before that I was a lesbian. Knew but didn’t accept.” I slid my hand across the comforter to rest on top of hers. “With you, I accepted.”

  She sat motionless.

  I brought my hand tighter over the top of hers and let her fingers fill my palm. “Mo?”

  Motionless.

  “I don’t want you to go.” I squeezed her hand with each word to emphasize my deepest desire for her not to leave in this moment or in the ones to follow.

  The painful tug at my heart was beyond evident with the way her hand didn’t turn to hold mine. It was in that moment I knew definitively she meant more to me than a physical answer to a long sought-out question. She had gotten in. Not to the degree Sam had found her way to my heart, but in nonetheless. I dared not tell her it was more than sex to me. I dare not tell her I had grown deep feelings for her. Not now.

  Instead, I continued to plead with her. “Mo? Please. Please stay.”

  Mo’s expression said everything. It was more than her leaving the moment. She was leaving the situation. She was leaving me.

  “You’re not just leaving today, are you? You’re leaving…leaving.”