Rainfall

by Melissa Delport

  “Shhh,” I murmur, tilting my head up and kissing him slowly, sensuously, revelling in the fact that he is here with me; that we are finally together, even if only for a moment. In fact now more than ever I realise how important it is to not take a single second for granted.

  Adam groans, a deep-seated need and I take a few steps back, unbuttoning my jeans and dropping them in a heap at my feet. I raise my eyebrow and bite my lip, hoping that this is okay. I have a desperate need to be with Adam again, to reassure myself that we have not lost our physical bond – that Kyle has not come between us.

  Adam regards me for only a few seconds before his restraint snaps and, taking three quick steps forward, he grabs me around the waist and pulls me toward him, a primal growl escaping him. I grin as I bite his shoulder playfully and he slaps my butt before hoisting me over his shoulder and carrying me into the bedroom.

  Chapter 9

  “It’s nice to see you back, Adam,” Doctor Sheldon greets us warmly when we return hours later.

  “Doctor Sheldon,” I begin, but he interrupts.

  “Carl, please,” he insists and I nod.

  “Carl,” I acquiesce. “What do we do now? Where do we start? How do we integrate the alters so that Adam can get his life back?”

  “Whoa!” The doctor raises his hands, “Slow down, Paige. I understand that you're impatient and want results but this is a delicate situation. We need to prepare ourselves – this is not going to resolve itself overnight, no matter how desperately you might wish it.” I feel my face fall and Adam takes my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

  “We do understand that, Doc. We really do, but is there anything we can we do to possibly speed up the process?” he asks and Carl Sheldon laughs.

  “Well, firstly, it may not sound like much, but I think that Paige just being here is already helping. It’s providing you, Adam,” he nods at Adam, “with an enormous incentive to hang around.” He smiles encouragingly and I feel more confident already.

  “Yeah, Adam,” I nudge him with my elbow and bat my eyes, “you should stick around.” Adam grins broadly, his eyes roaming my body possessively.

  Doctor Sheldon clears his throat and we both jump a little, my cheeks reddening.

  “Firstly, I would suggest that you spend as much time together as possible,” he begins. “Paige, you're welcome to stay here at the facility or if you prefer the Bed and Breakfast...”

  “No,” Adam interrupts loudly, his voice echoing through the room and we both turn to stare at him. “Sorry, Doc,” he says by way of apology before continuing. “My place,” he turns to me, speaking sincerely, “I want you to stay at my place.”

  “Sure,” I nod, placing my hand on his leg, “of course.” I turn to the doctor for confirmation that this is okay and I am relieved to see that he is smiling encouragingly.

  “Perfect,” he answers. “And you, Adam?” he asks and we both blink in confusion.

  “Carl?” I ask, wondering where he is going with this. He smiles at us.

  “It stands to reason that if you are staying at Adam’s and you need to spend as much time as possible together, then Adam should probably stay with you at his house.” Doctor Sheldon grins at what I can only imagine is shock etched on both of our faces.

  “But...” I look to Adam, unsure of how to proceed. He looks just as uncertain and is looking from me to the doc.

  “As I've mentioned before,” Carl continues, “Adam is not a prisoner here. He is free to come and go as he pleases. Obviously I can only help him if he wants to be helped and for that he needs to be as comfortable as possible. This is a voluntary process, after all,” he smiles encouragingly.

  I take a moment to process this. Living together with Adam, being with him every single day is like a dream come true. But the truth is that it’s not going to be just me and Adam. Kyle and Simon will be with us too, and Jacob. I feel a nervousness in the pit of my stomach and I bite down on my bottom lip. Can I do this? I turn to Adam to gauge his reaction and any reservations I am about to voice die on my lips. Adam is beaming. His smile lights up the room and his beautiful eyes are crinkling at the corners. It is my favourite Adam smile multiplied by a hundred. My heart leaps in my chest. How can I resist, his delight is infectious.

  “That sounds wonderful.” I smile, and Adam grabs me and twirls me in the air, his laughter ringing in my ears, the sweetest sound in the world.

  I tell Adam that I need a few hours to sort out a couple of things and I leave him at the Institute, driving back to the Bed and Breakfast to pack my belongings. I did not tell Adam this but I desperately need to gather my thoughts and mentally prepare myself for what is to come. I am as ready as I am ever going to be; there is nowhere in the world that I would rather be than here at Adam’s side, but even so, the journey ahead is not one that I'm looking forward to. Here, just for a moment, I do not have to hide my feelings and I can let the tears fall freely. Why did this have to happen? I met a man; I fell in love. He was perfect. Why couldn’t it have just been that simple? Why does this have to be so God-damned hard? I sit cross-legged on the bed and let go of the flood that has been building since Doctor Sheldon opened that door and I saw Adam’s blue eyes staring at me out of Kyle’s face. I cry so hard that I'm struggling to breathe and I have to take huge gasping breaths that hurt my throat. I allow myself a few more moments of self-pity and selfishness and then I lock up the hurt in a tiny part of myself that I am determined Adam will never see.

  I have a shower and wash away the tears and the grief. The water falls over me like rain and soothes me, giving me strength. I slowly become calmer and am able to think properly; to plan. There are no half measures. No half-life. I know what I have to do and am summoning all my energy to do it. I dress quickly after my shower, collect all of my things and head downstairs.

  Mr Bass helps me load up the sporty little car.

  “We were so looking forward to your stay,” Mrs Bass sounds genuinely disappointed and I frown in consternation.

  “I'm so sorry, Mrs Bass. It really is beautiful here, but I have to go. I can’t explain it, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be silly, love. I know why you’re here, you have important business to take care of. It’s just lovely to have a young person in the house again. Mr Bass gets a bit boring after a bit,” she laughs and her husband rolls his eyes at her. I smile at both of them.

  “Well, thank you both so much. Could I possibly use your phone before I leave? I'm happy to pay for the call charges.” Mrs Bass waves away my offer with a flap of her hand and Mr Bass shows me to the den where the telephone is.

  “Thank you,” I call after him as he gently shuts the door.

  I've made my decision; there's no turning back now. I pick up the handset and start to dial.

  I make three calls. The first is to Fairview to check up on my father. He is fine, no change, not that I expected any. He seemed a bit restless on Sunday, the orderly mentions, and I feel a pang of guilt. I did not go and see him on Sunday. It is the first time in over a year that I have missed my weekly visit. I leave my contact details and ask that they please keep me informed and contact me for anything out of the ordinary and let me know if he needs anything.

  The second call I make is to The Vine, the local magazine that I have been working at for almost two years. Henry Duncan does not take kindly to my telephonic, no-notice-period, resignation.

  “Henry, I'm truly sorry,” I say again. I have explained the situation, I felt it only right.

  “You're making a mistake, Paige,” Henry warns. “Mark my words, this is a mistake. That boy has serious issues. You’re better off without him, trust me.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Henry,” I say firmly, “and I'm really sorry to let you down like this. I'm happy to freelance the odd piece until you find a replacement.”

  “Can you do that?” he barks, sounding slightly appeased.

  “Of course.” I think the work will probably be good for me; it will help me keep
my mind off things. “Not too much, though,” I clarify, “I don’t want to let you down on a reliability factor. I’d prefer not to bite off more than I can chew.”

  “Fine, fine,” he answers curtly. “But Paige, I hope you understand that I can't keep your position open. When things don’t work out down there you can’t come waltzing back into my office and pick up where you left off.”

  “I do understand that, Henry,” I reply demurely. “Thank you again, for everything.”

  He clicks his tongue irritably.

  “Paige!” he snaps just before I hang up.

  “Yes?” I ask and he sighs.

  “When you do decide you’re ready to come back give me a ring anyway. You never know, we might have an opening. You’re pretty good.” A pause and then, “Good luck, kid.”

  “Thanks, Henry.” I smile and hang up.

  I lay my head down on the dark wood desk before making the final call. I cannot believe I just quit my job. I worked so hard to get that job and to get to where I am; freelancing, having time to myself – time to do the things that I set out to do without having to worry about a normal nine to five. Dammit! I can sense the tears just below the surface. It will not take much to push me over the edge and I cannot risk breaking down again. Sniffing, I lift the receiver and bring it to my ear, dialling the familiar number.

  “Not even a phone call! You travel halfway across the country without so much as a phone call! Really, Paige, I taught you better than that,” she pauses, considering this for a second, and no doubt patting herself on the back for her excellent parenting skills. Once suitably acknowledged she continues, “I never liked that boy.” She is building up momentum and I interrupt her straight away.

  “Mom, you adored Adam. You even tried to kiss him at Aunt Jackie’s 60th.”

  My mother splutters in denial.

  “I did not! I told you, Paige, I thought he was Frank!” she shrieks indignantly. “Anyway, Jackie always puts far too much Pimms in the punch bowl; I was half-baked after one tiny fruit cup. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I had tried to let the dog drive me home.”

  I smile despite myself and listen to her rant on for a few more minutes, shaking my head fondly. Eventually I glimpse my wristwatch and realise the time.

  “Mom!” I interrupt hastily. “I know you’re concerned and I love you for it, truly, but I love Adam. I have to do this. Now,” I get down to business, “could I speak to Frank, please.”

  It takes a few more minutes for my mother to wrap up and I slip a 20 dollar bill under the telephone book, feeling guilty about the call costs not to mention the inconvenience I have caused by cancelling my room at such short notice.

  “Hi, Paigey, what’s up?” I can’t help but smile when I hear Frank’s voice. I give him a brief rundown of what is going on. There is an uncomfortable pause.

  “I don’t like it, Paige,” Frank remarks honestly. “I still haven’t forgiven that boy for what he did to you.” I hear him expel a deep breath and then he continues, “I was worried we might lose you again – like before,” he adds, and I stiffen. I know what he is talking about. I just never realised that my behaviour after Kevin’s death had affected Frank.

  “It wasn’t his fault, Frank,” I say, feeling like I have done nothing but make excuses for Adam since I arrived and wishing that I didn’t have to.

  “Yeah, I get that, love,” he says patiently, “but it still doesn’t change the fact that he hurt you. And anyone who hurts you doesn’t make it into my good books, Paigey, intentional or not.” I feel tears prick at my eyes again and once more I find myself longing for a simple life.

  “Frank, I need your help,” I change the subject and, being Frank, he does not press the issue. He has said his piece; he will not harp on about it. This is exactly why I have always been far more comfortable confiding in Frank than I have in my mother.

  “It’s Dad,” I begin, not quite sure how to ask him what I want to.

  “Yes?” he questions and then, “Oh, Paige!” he sighs - he knows exactly what I am asking.

  “I know it’s a lot to ask!” I interrupt before he has a chance to protest. “But there's no-one else I can ask. You know what mom’s like, she couldn’t be bothered. And it’s not like it makes any difference to him who it is, he doesn’t know any of us anyway. It’s just once a week. A game of chess or Scrabble. Two games, tops. Please, Frank, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important – you know I wouldn’t.” I pause for breath and I realise that I'm rambling. “I just can’t stand the thought of him being alone,” I finish in a small voice.

  There is nothing but silence on the other end of the line for a long moment and then I hear him sigh.

  “Oh, Paige!” he grumbles and I exhale in relief; I know Frank – he’ll do it. “Fine,” he confirms, grudgingly, “I’ll do it, but I'm drawing the line at Cluedo. I don’t give a damn if Mrs Pepper did it in the drawing-room with a candlestick; that's just not going to fly. Got it? Chess, backgammon – that’s it. Scrabble if I absolutely have to. That’s where I draw the line.”

  “Absolutely!” I promise, positively euphoric now that the biggest worry is off my chest. I feel literally as though a massive weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

  “I love you, Frank,” I say.

  “Just be careful, Paigey,” he warns and I know what he is referring to.

  “I will,” I promise, hoping that this is a promise I will be able to keep. I do not know if my heart can survive losing anything else.

  The drive back to fetch Adam seems shorter and, in no time at all, we are packed up and ready to go. Doctor Sheldon wants us back at the institute every morning at 9.30 for Adam’s sessions and his emergency mobile phone will be switched on day and night in case I need his help for any reason.

  “Just do what you think is best,” he advises me, giving me a quick hug. “Trust your instincts. If you’re unsure, call me,” he reiterates and I nod in acknowledgement.

  “Thank you.”

  We stop off at a store a few blocks from Adam’s apartment and stock up on all the necessaries. I throw a couple of bottles of wine into the cart and Adam grins at the cheap labels.

  “I’ve missed you,” he says and my heart does a somersault in reaction to his smile. His eyes are amazing, I don’t think I will ever get used to them, they are so incredibly blue.

  “I’ve missed you too,” I smile back, throwing some microwave popcorn on top of the wine.

  Chapter 10

  Winter

  “Think Adam. Really try. You have to be able to remember this. It’s your life, you don’t just forget your life!” I urge and Adam furrows his brow in concentration before cursing in frustration.

  “I can’t Paige! I just don’t remember. You think I haven’t tried?” He is almost at breaking-point, I can tell, but I'm so frustrated and so tired I cannot help myself. We have been at this for hours; the sun is low on the horizon and all the street lamps are coming on. It's only getting colder and there has been no rain since I arrived in New York. Christmas is four weeks away and the weather experts are all claiming it will be a white Christmas. The snow does not excite me; I don’t like the cold, it’s depressing.

  “Try harder!” I'm almost yelling. “How did you get to that alley? Someone must have dropped you off, or you walked, but you didn’t just appear there. Unless you teleported from some other dimension?” The sarcasm oozes out of me and I hate myself for it. I know that I'm being a bully, but it has been two weeks and we're getting nowhere. The only positive is that I have not seen any of the alters but this is not necessarily ideal as I need Jacob to get to the bottom of things.

  “I know that! Don’t you think I know that?” he roars. “Do you think that I enjoy this? That I like living like this? I want to get better. I want all these freaks out of my head. I want my life back! But I just can’t!” With that he grabs the coffee table and overturns it, the two coffee mugs that were resting on it smashing onto the tiled floor.

  I gape, o
pen-mouthed, at Adam, not quite sure how to react to this sudden explosion.

  “It’s a good thing those were empty,” he drawls, gesturing at the cups and in the instant that I meet his gaze I realise that Kyle is back.

  “Hello, Kyle,” I greet him nonchalantly, bending down and picking up the broken pieces of ceramic. “Where have you been?”

  “Why, did you miss me?” he asks, leaning against the kitchen counter, watching me clean up.

  “You know, you could help me,” I point out, “seeing as you were the one who made the mess in the first place,” I add, brushing past him to fetch the dustpan from the cleaning cupboard.

  “How do you know it wasn’t lover boy?” he raises his eyebrows innocently, and for a moment he looks so much like my Adam that it hurts.

  “Because Adam would never do anything like that,” I reply confidently, sweeping the last few shards into the pan and then moving to empty it in the dustbin.

  Kyle moves over to the settee, settling down and flicking through the channels until he finds a football station. I offer him some more tea which he declines rudely before asking me to fetch him a beer. I set it down on the table next to him and then I leave him to it for a few minutes, pondering my best course of action. Kyle is yelling at the screen; he seems to be somewhat of a football hooligan and obviously interrupting the game would be a very bad idea. I decide to make him something to eat. He seems to prefer a woman who knows her place, which I am fairly certain he believes is in the bedroom, or at the very least, in the kitchen. I make a few sandwiches and grab another beer, setting it all on the table in front of him. He glances at the offering, then gives me an appreciative onceover before turning his full attention back to the game. I settle down in the armchair across from him and wait for my opportunity.

  Thank goodness Kyle’s team wins and his mood is positively jovial. He even offers to take the dishes to the kitchen. I take him up on the offer and he immediately saunters off to the bathroom, proclaiming that he has to take a leak first. Rolling my eyes I take everything to the kitchen myself and start loading the dishwasher. I busy myself with wiping down the counter and for good measure I open another beer and set it on the countertop. Kyle returns and, seeing the beer, comes and sits at the counter on one of the aluminium bar stools. He takes a huge swig, regarding me contemplatively.