Heaven Sent Rain

by Lauraine Snelling

  And here she was, getting ready to break her word. What were her options? She turned the water off and, wrapping a towel around her, stepped out on the mat. She could drop the others off at church—he could go with Gramma Trudy just fine—and return to pick them up. She could let Jonah walk over there and take the bus with them. She could curl up under the covers and refuse to answer. She could—nothing else came to mind.

  She stared at the face in the mirror and saw a mouthful of frothy toothpaste. Did Garret go to church? Is that how he knew to wrap Jonah in his arms and hold him? Or had his parents done that for him when he was growing up? Or—she spit out the toothpaste and rinsed her mouth. Somehow she had to get control over her mind this morning or she might just end up in a world of hurt.

  She dressed in a cowl-necked off-white cashmere sweater dress and was adding her jewelry when a knock came at her door. “What is it, Jonah?”

  “I made you some toast with peanut butter. Do you want banana on it, too? My mommy liked peanut butter toast with banana.”

  Dinah sucked in a deep breath and stared into the mirror. “Ah, yes, Jonah, I would love that. Thank you.” What was going on here?

  “I didn’t make your coffee because I don’t know how to use your coffee maker.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll be there as soon as I get my boots on.”

  “Okay.”

  She heard him and Mutt go back down the hall. Did she even have time for coffee? She pulled her knee-high off-white leather boots from the closet, rammed her feet in, and zipped them up, forcing herself to hurry. She had toast to eat.

  She sat at the table. Jonah dropped his head, closed his eyes, and mechanically recited grace. She ate her breakfast prepared by a seven-year-old. She was not all that enthusiastic about peanut butter. And she really disliked banana on it. Was she condemning her future to peanut butter, bananas, and church? I don’t think so. But how to handle this?

  “You be good, now,” Jonah told Mutt as he grabbed his jacket off the vacuum cleaner and slammed the closet door. She still had not gotten closet hooks.

  Mutt wagged her tail and whimpered.

  “She likes to ride in the car.” Jonah pushed the garage button on the elevator.

  “Do you like to ride in the car? Would you like to go for a drive this afternoon?”

  And if so, where?

  “Where?”

  She dipped her head. “That’s what I was wondering.”

  “Maybe Gramma Trudy would like that.”

  “You ask her, okay?” Certainly, Gramma Trudy was a stranger, but she was not destined to remain a stranger. Dinah rued her inability to relate well to people she did not know.

  Trudy and Claire were waiting at the curb when Dinah swung into the loading zone in front of the building.

  “This is sure a pleasure,” Trudy said as Jonah motioned her to sit in the front seat.

  “Did you have a good visit with your family?” Dinah watched to make sure the older woman could buckle the seat belt.

  “We did. It was a good break. Sorry I didn’t get to call you back, but we returned late last night.” She glanced over her shoulder at Jonah. “I’m so glad you called me this morning.”

  Dinah watched for an opening in traffic. “Sorry he called so early.”

  “Not to worry. I get up early. These old bones begin to complain if I stay in bed too long.”

  “I have no idea where we are going.”

  “That’s okay. You take Main south to Washington and turn right. Easier to stay on surface streets than get up on the freeway. It’s three, four miles away. The bus takes the long way around.”

  Dinah followed the instructions and parked as near to the entrance as possible. Since they were a bit early, there was plenty of room. The white clapboard church reminded her of the one Gramma Grace used to go to. Why couldn’t it at least have been brick or something else?

  Trudy took her arm as they made their way to the side door where Jonah was leading them. Claire had his hand, the two of them talking as they walked.

  Gramma Grace shuffled along gamely. “Sorry, I’m a bit slow. Wintertime stoves me up some.”

  “No problem.” Dinah caught herself. She hated the way people used No problem as a one-size-fits-all response; and particularly when it took the place of You’re welcome. Now here she was, doing the same. Think about something else; you can walk in here without your heart going into overdrive.

  Once inside, Jonah waved goodbye and headed down the stairs.

  “He’s doing all right, then?” Trudy asked.

  “Today he is. Friday night and yesterday were rough.”

  “Not surprising. Shock often lets up about a week, ten days, and then you feel like you want to rip the world apart.” Trudy spoke like someone who’d been down the grief trail before, possibly more than once.

  “He was too little to remember a whole lot from before his daddy left, and, since he died far away, and he’d not seen his daddy for a while, that made it easier. Not much, but a little easier. But Corinne has been his whole life.”

  They paused at the doorway to a classroom.

  “You have a choice here,” Claire said. “Mom goes to the Bible class and I go to the singles class. What would you prefer?”

  I’d prefer to go wait in the car. Dinah paused. “Guess I’ll go with you, if that’s all right.” She looked to Trudy, who patted her arm.

  “You do whatever you want. Jonah and I will meet you in the sanctuary.”

  Dinah made sure her public face was pasted on securely and followed Claire into a classroom, where all the chairs were set in a circle. She bit back a groan. This usually meant discussion, not someone lecturing. Only an hour— you can do anything for an hour. Then church and then you can take these good people to a restaurant and all will be well.

  Claire leaned over sotto voce. “Corinne used to go with Mother but she hasn’t been well enough for the last months. We brought Jonah along with us.”

  “He said you rode the bus but he couldn’t remember the full name of the church. He wanted to go last Sunday, too.” The two of them took seats and Claire introduced her as her friend Dinah Taylor when others greeted them.

  Dinah nodded and smiled and shook hands, all the accoutrements of polite behavior.

  “Since you are new here, we won’t ask you to take part in the discussion, okay?” Claire leaned close enough to whisper.

  Dinah breathed a sigh of relief, especially since she had no idea what the discussion was about.

  Of the fifteen people in the circle, most of them took part in the discussion about the upcoming Easter week celebrations in Eastbrook. Dinah tuned it out after realizing Easter was only two weeks away.

  She smiled and nodded at those who greeted her when they made their way through the hall to the sanctuary. Jonah and Trudy were waiting for them in the third row from the rear. The organ was already playing, so they took their seats with only a nod, Dinah by Jonah. The quiet was surprising as people filed into the pews with a reverent feel.

  Perhaps if she just sat here before the beauty of the stained-glass windows, sunshine bringing the window behind the altar to brilliant life, and let the music fill her ears, she would indeed relax. She felt Jonah beside her and smiled down at him.

  Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. Surely she could tune out the service, especially the sermon. And then they would be on their way. If this helped Jonah, she could handle it.

  Until the choir sang. “On a hill far away, stood an old rugged cross…”

  Dinah gritted her teeth, wishing she could plug her ears. How had they ever managed to choose that old, old song to sing today? Gramma Grace used to play it on the piano and sing, tears trickling down her cheeks. “I will cherish that old rugged cross.…”

  The picture in her mind would not go away. She opened her eyes wide, trying to keep the tears at bay, then bit her bottom lip. I will not cry. I will not! Gramma Grace had been wrong, dead wrong; Jesus and all that was all a story.
The urge to run made her shift and twitch her feet. She could feel Jonah looking at her. His mother told him the same fairy tale: Jesus loves you. If He indeed loved like they said, why was Gramma Grace gone so young, and, even more to the point, what about Michael? Little boys shouldn’t die because a child’s parents insisted that Jesus would heal him.

  Jesus had ignored the prayers and pleas of those people, and took both of those dearest to her.

  She fought her demons through the readings, the sermon, the hymns, and pulled herself back to reality as the blessing rolled out over those gathered. “The Lord bless thee and keep thee. The Lord makes His countenance to shine upon thee and give you His peace.”

  If they hadn’t been trapped by those around them, she would have pushed her way out the door. Anything to get away.

  But all she could do was nod and smile and smile and nod and wish Trudy didn’t know everyone there and Jonah didn’t look so engaging and no one could see her. Finally she was unlocking the doors to her car. Everyone slid in and she could suck in a breath deep enough to unhook the band that let her shoulders drop. This was worse than the horrendous interview. At least no one had asked about Corinne. Or if they did, Trudy fielded the questions to protect Jonah.

  “So, where would you like to eat? Well, first of all, what sounds good?” Dinah inserted the key in the ignition, realizing her hand was shaking. “Oh, and this is my treat.”

  Trudy insisted, “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know, but I want to.”

  “We used to like to go to Mom’s Kitchen. It’s not far from here.” Claire spoke from the back seat. “How does that sound, Mom?”

  “Delightful. Jonah, what would you like?”

  “Fried chicken.”

  “Oh, they make good fried chicken.”

  “Not as good as Mommy did.”

  Trudy nodded. “I remember your mama’s good cooking, before she took sick. She used to bring us cookies and when she cooked something special, she’d share it with us.”

  “Okay, give me the directions.” Another deep breath had settled Dinah even more. How had her defenses of all these years been broached so quickly?

  She turned right when they told her, turned left, turned…

  And she realized she’d never be able to find this place again. Mom’s Kitchen was a little cottage sort of building tucked in behind a hardware store. How had these two ever found it in the first place?

  The food was indeed good, well seasoned with the stories Trudy told of her earlier life. And Jonah asked her questions. I wonder if this is what real family feels like? The question caught Dinah by surprise. Gramma Trudy and Gramma Grace were cut from the same cloth. Maybe it was not family at all; it was simply their generation.

  “What did you want to talk to me about?” Trudy asked later in the meal.

  “Can I come to your house after school while Dinah is still working?” Jonah beat her to it.

  Dinah nodded. “That’s the problem. Not all the time, of course, but—”

  “Jonah can come every day. Can I really be so blessed?”

  “Well, uh, I mean, I…”

  Trudy laid her hand on Dinah’s. “Please, I have missed Jonah. This would be an old woman’s pleasure.”

  Claire nodded. “The two of them are good for each other.”

  “Can I go get Mutt and bring her, too?”

  Trudy looked at Dinah, then Jonah. “If Dinah says that is all right, then Mutt can come, too.”

  “She doesn’t like to be all alone with no friends for so long.”

  They finished their meal. Dinah dropped Trudy and Claire off at their building and twisted around to see Jonah. “Would you like to go to a movie?”

  “Can we rent a movie and have popcorn at your house?”

  “I guess, if you like.”

  “Mutt can’t go to a theater.”

  “Right.” Where could she rent a movie? She’d never signed up for Netflix, nor ordered online. “Do you know what you would like to see?”

  He nodded. “If you go that way you can rent movies.”

  She did and found the place, then motioned him to come with her. “You have to choose.”

  They ended up with two movies. Dinah did all right with the first, a horse story, but the second was so boring she had to fight to keep her eyes open. She so rarely sat still this long without a stack of work in front of her. When they finished, Jonah brought his drawing pad out to the coffee table. She put some music on, trying to decide what to do. Email. Not in her office, because she no longer had an office, but here in the living room with a small boy and a snoring dog. How would that go?

  She’d just gotten all set up when she heard, “I don’t want to go to school tomorrow.”

  “What did you say?” She tore her eyes away from the screen.

  “I don’t want to go to school tomorrow.” Jonah kept on drawing.

  “Why not?”

  Shrug.

  “Are you sick?”

  “No. I just don’t want to go.”

  Now what do I do? She stared at the top of his head. If I keep asking why, he might erupt. I hate to make it worse for him. Is it better to just let his comments lie or—

  “And I don’t like lunch there.”

  “Fine, I’ll make you a lunch.” What has come over him? How do I help him? I am an absolute disaster as a mother. “But you have to go to school. It’s the law.”

  He picked up his drawing things, stuffed them in his backpack, and headed down the hall. Mutt looked up at her, over her shoulder to see where her boy was, then got up, shook, and jumped down to follow him.

  If dogs could talk, Mutt had just said a mouthful. What had Dinah done to her boy this time?

  When she went in to say prayers with him, he was sound asleep, an arm over Mutt, who thumped her tail. Dinah backed out without waking him. Maybe things would be better in the morning. What a not-perfect end to an already difficult day. At least parts of it.

  Surprisingly, she went to sleep right away and woke to the alarm at six thirty. Just get going, she told herself. Trepidation tried to strangle her heart.

  Jonah wore the ugly-kid look in the morning and kept it on. He put the lunch she made in his backpack.

  “You want me to cut up that apple?”

  “No.”

  Dinah went to her bedroom and finished dressing. Right on time, they headed out the door to Extraburger. While the weather looked good, the thundercloud over the child beside her made her shiver.

  Why didn’t he want to go to school? She could ask him again and get another shrug. He obviously wasn’t in a mood to be cooperative. Was moodiness a part of grieving? Probably. And why was she so tongue-tied? In the end she could not think of anything at all to talk about, so they ate in silence.

  “Jonah? You go to Trudy’s this afternoon, remember.”

  He grunted and left without a word. She almost followed him to make sure he went to school, but her phone chimed, so she took the call while on the way to her office.

  Bringing April up to date, Dinah left a lot of information out. “So, I don’t know what to do.” I can’t talk about my own feelings, let alone getting Jonah to talk about his. Since when did I become a don’t-rock-the-boat woman?

  “Probably not much you can do. I suspect Gramma Trudy will be really good for him.”

  And then the work week kicked in. Typical Monday-morning problems lay in wait, but Dinah felt like they were wading through rather well. The staff meeting got started and out on time and accomplished the things on the agenda. That alone was cause for rejoicing. Dinah had been back at her desk for a short time when April announced a call on One.

  “I think it is the principal at Jonah’s school.”

  Dinah picked up. “This is Dinah Taylor. How may I help you?”

  “Ms. Taylor, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we have a situation here with Jonah. How soon can you get here?”

  “Situation. What do you mean?”

&nb
sp; “Please come as quickly as you can.”

  “I’m leaving right now.” What could be happening?

  Was Jonah hurt?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Monday morning and Garret could still feel the grieving little boy in his arms.

  And Garret’s mother, grieving along a different path, but grieving all the same. Grief was hard on those nearby, as well. On Garret.

  He walked into the office at his usual time. If he hadn’t had to be here for the interviews, he could have gone in later, since he would be running urgent care that night. Faulty planning on his part.

  The interviews went as most do—nervous people smiling a lot—with the added twist of Skyping the candidate in California. Garret decided he really did not like Skype, but it certainly was handy; much better than a phone interview.

  The ordeal finally ended, and he and Sue took their coffees back into his office.

  “So what do you think?” Garret studied Sue. When she didn’t leap right in, he prompted her. “Who was your number-one choice, or would it be easier to weed out the noes?”

  She shook her head, studying her notes. “I wish we could hire both of the couple, but since that is out and they didn’t seem willing to have only one hired, I’d say our California girl—er, woman.”

  He nodded. “Julie Crick is my first choice. What if…” His voice trailed off. As his brain went off down a bunny trail.

  “You’re thinking; that’s dangerous, you know.” Sue leaned back in her chair.

  “What if we offered the couple temp work? The urgent care shift, two, three nights a week. Paid hourly or so much a night.”

  Sue sat forward, animated. “I like that. And, to carry this one step farther, what if West Side Small Animal Clinic and Stassen Animal Hospital did the same thing? There would be enough hours between the three for both to work full time.”

  Someone to cover urgent care? A lovely prospect! “I wonder if other clinics have done anything like this. There are companies, agencies, that broker temps for nurses and doctors and office help and engineers—all kinds of positions. Why not vet hospitals, too?” He punched the intercom. “Amber, you got a minute?”