Heaven Sent Rain

by Lauraine Snelling

  “I hope you feel better right away. Can I bring you anything?”

  “No, Claire made a drugstore run, so we’re stocked up on cold stuff. I know this gives you more pressure. I so love to have him come.”

  They hung up and Dinah glared at the face in the mirror. This was just getting worse by the moment.

  When she told Jonah, his lower lip stuck out far enough for a bird perch.

  She felt even poutier than he. “Look, I’m sorry.”

  “Why can’t I stay here? Mutt and me will be okay. We won’t go out but for her to potty. I promise.”

  “You’re just too young, Jonah. Leaving you here alone is against the law.”

  “Mr. Watson could come check on me.”

  Dinah shook her head, reminding herself not to get rattled. “Maybe Grandma Trudy will be better by tomorrow.”

  He slumped down in his chair, arms locked across his chest. “I hate your office. I want my mommy to come back.”

  “Sorry Jonah, but I can’t do much about either. Get your coat and backpack. We leave in five minutes. We’re too late for Extraburger now.”

  “I ate cereal. Can Mutt come?”

  “No, Mutt cannot come. Move it.” She got her coat out and gathered her briefcase and bag. “Now, Jonah.”

  “I can’t find my hat.”

  “I’m sorry, but we have to leave. I have a conference call in twenty minutes. Now, Jonah!” The urge to snatch him by the jacket collar and push him ahead of her made her take a step back. Instead she snatched up his backpack. He snatched it back and humped it over his shoulder by one strap as they left. He slouched in the corner of the elevator, as far from her as he could get, arms locked again over his chest.

  He had been so happy yesterday when Garret was here. The contrast was just another reminder of how inept she was.

  Dinah tried to think of something to say, but her mind had gone into freefall, screaming accusations at her. You can’t be a mother. Temper, temper. Failure. Poor kid. You are downright mean.

  By the time they reached the office door, she could hardly drag herself through it.

  “Uh-oh, what’s up?” April stared from one to the other.

  “Trudy caught a cold so Jonah can’t go there and—”

  “I can stay with Mutt.”

  “Not when you’re seven. Guess you’ll have to visit us again,” April said brightly.

  He glared at her and stomped down the hall to the break room, slamming the door behind him.

  “Wow, the kid has a temper after all.” She looked to Dinah. “Don’t worry, he’ll get over it. Give him some time.”

  “I really need to get him into counseling. Mr. Jensen sent me a list, but I have no idea how to go about finding which one is most competent. I called a few that had good online reviews, but they didn’t have availability for a new patient for months.” Dinah set her too-heavy briefcase on the desk.

  April handed her the inevitable sheaf of orange slips. “Your duty calls. May I call around for you, see what I can find?”

  “April, that would be wonderful. You know I’m totally at sea on this. Besides, I have that conference call in five minutes.”

  “No, you don’t. They postponed. Called a couple of minutes ago. But you really need to talk with Marcella some more. She’s still pretty upset, talking about quitting.” April shook her head. “This is sure a sorry Monday. Did you have breakfast?”

  “No. I was awake from four or so on. When I finally couldn’t stand the mind and the bed any longer, I tried to be careful but Mutt met me at the door. I can’t even have a cup of coffee in the morning by myself.”

  “I hear you. Mothers feel that way a lot. Welcome to your new life.”

  Dinah thought of checking on Jonah, but when she heard the television on in the board room, she entered her office instead. Today the rose on her desk stirred up another pool of resentment. She grabbed the bud vase and marched back to April’s desk.

  “Look. Too much of my life is unknown or out of control already. Please don’t put any more flowers on my desk unless we know who they came from. Or on my coffee table at home, either!”

  “They are meant to cheer you and thank you.”

  “So you do know where they came from!”

  “From all your employees. We have the greatest possible work situation here, and we’re grateful. We love our work and we love you. All of us. Even the night cleaning woman.”

  “And so you levy a—”

  “Voluntary donations to a jar. Whenever there’s enough in it, we get you flowers. You care about us, Dinah, and we care about you, and about what you’ve given us.”

  “I don’t—I had no idea. I’m sorry I-I meant to thank you.” Stunned, she returned to her office. And left the door open.

  A minute later she saw Jonah heading down the hall past her office. He must be going to talk to April.

  She crossed to her chair and flopped into it. She just wanted a few minutes to herself. But her breastbone was tickling. Something felt off. Jonah had his backpack with him, that was what bothered her. Surely he wouldn’t leave after she told him he had to stay here.

  “Jonah?” she called.

  No answer.

  On impulse she left her office. No one at April’s desk. She hurried down the hall.

  She was relieved to find him in the break room, standing there with his head bowed, his hands in prayer position. “Thank You, Jesus. So please tell Mommy I’m coming to see her and I love her and I love You. Amen.” He knelt down, unzipped his backpack, and pulled out Dinah’s paring knife.

  Why…?

  His words and actions suddenly clicked together.

  “NOOOO!” Dinah didn’t think; didn’t aim. She lunged forward so wildly she fell into him, knocking the knife from his hand and carrying them both tumbling against the television stand. The stand rocked back as she slammed against it; the TV set fell forward, hitting her shoulder on the way down. The audio blare quit but the crash reverberated.

  How could he so casually do this!

  How could she fail him so miserably that he would rather be dead than live with her?

  The room filled up and echoed with her screaming and Jonah’s violent sobbing. No, it wasn’t Jonah sobbing; it was she. He was the one screaming. He flailed like a windmill, his little arms and legs surprisingly effective at pummeling her.

  Then April was there, shouting at Jonah. Dinah realized she was in a tug-of-war with April, hanging on to Jonah as April was trying to pull him off her. She must let go of him. She could not.

  April won the tussle because Dinah’s shoulder gave out.

  Jonah…Dinah struggled to sitting.

  April was sitting on the floor, tightly wrapped around him, holding his arms down, one leg thrown across his legs, arching her head aside because he was trying to head-butt her. She was cooing, speaking quietly. She began to rock back and forth, softly singing to him. Dinah knew the song, too. In her childhood she had sung it so many times. “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. Little ones…”

  Jonah wailed, “I wanna see Mommy! Don’t! I wanna go to Mommy!” Finally, he melted against April, moaned for his mommy a few times, and apparently gave up.

  Dinah butt-scooted over to April and held out her arms, drawing Jonah from April’s care into hers. She noticed rather abstractly that her own weeping had reduced itself to occasional wrenching sobs. “Oh, Jonah. My poor, poor little Jonah.”

  April picked up the knife with two fingers. She wagged her head as she laid it behind her.

  “April, he needs something now. Right now. Right this minute. Not when some counselor manages to fit in an appointment.”

  April drew her knees up and draped her arms across them. “I agree. And this is beyond me. I never had anything like this. I don’t know…”

  “Thank you.” It sounded lame, considering the circumstances, but it was all she could say. “Thank you, April, for being here for me. I don’t know what I’d do without y
ou.” Wait. What is this? She watched April fighting to school her face. “We’ve worked together and been friends for too long; we know each other, and I can tell you are not being forthright with me now. What is it?”

  “This is definitely not the time to discuss this, but there hasn’t been a good time.”

  “What is it?!” Dinah was yelling. Even her voice was wildly out of control now.

  “I’m sorry, Dinah. Joe has been promoted. He has taken over the company’s LA office. I have to resign.”

  Dinah stared at her. Not April. This is too much. She wanted to ask How can you do this to me? Instead, she asked, “How long have you known?”

  “Three days. With all that’s happened, it just never seemed like the right moment to tell you. Certainly this is not the right moment, either.”

  “April, you can’t! You’re key! The company can’t function without you!”

  “I won’t leave you in the lurch; I’ll train my replacement. Maybe Marcella would be a good one to take over.”

  “Marcella can’t handle things going wrong. And she’s not a good people person, like you are. There is no replacement, so don’t talk about your replacement.”

  Her personal life, and now her business life, all in shambles. It was all falling apart, all of it. What was there left?

  Jonah was left; that’s what was left.

  Dinah kissed the top of the tousled little head still cradled in her arms. “Come on, Jonah.” She gained her feet and was dismayed by how wobbly she felt. “April, I’m too upset to drive; I don’t trust myself to stay focused in traffic. Will you drive me, please?”

  April stood up. “Frankly, I’m pretty upset myself. I’ll ask Randy. He’s not babysitting any experiments right now. Where to?”

  “To Garret’s.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Randy pulled Dinah’s car past the now-familiar front of the Miller clinic and parked in a handicapped space beside their door. He hopped out and opened the back car door for Dinah.

  She swung her legs out and stood up. Behind her, Jonah scooted across the seat and climbed out.

  Randy dropped her car keys into her hand.

  She stared at them, numb. “How will you…Who…? Uh, we’re in a handicapped slot.” Her mind was skipping about like a cricket on a caffeine jag.

  Randy grinned. “No problem. I’ll just move the sign.”

  “But…”

  But he was off, jogging out toward the street.

  She led Jonah inside by the hand.

  Amber was all smiles. “Hey, Jonah! Good to see you! Dr. G is back in the break room. Why don’t you go say hello?”

  “Okay.” Jonah seemed so despondent, so defeated. Dinah felt just as defeated.

  Garret was sitting at the table. He looked up from his laptop as they walked in and grinned. “Hello, Sport! Come sit. Can I get you anything?”

  Jonah shrugged.

  “How about Orange Crush? I’m going to have one. Dinah? What would you like?”

  “Uh…Orange Crush is fine.” For pity sake, Dinah, pull yourself together!

  He stuck his head in their fridge, digging out cans. “April called and explained. I’m glad you came by, both of you.” He stood erect. “We have doughnuts, Jonah. Want a maple bar?”

  “Okay.” How could he act so…normal? But because he did, both she and Jonah began to relax.

  He set out cans and a box of doughnuts. “Let’s just cut right to it. Jonah: you were trying to get to heaven, right?” He sat down and plunked paper napkins in front of Jonah and Dinah.

  The boy plucked out a maple bar. “I want to see Mommy again.”

  Garret nodded and chose himself a maple bar, too. “And she’s there and you’re here. Actually, when you think about it, that was a pretty good idea you had there.”

  Dinah gasped, “What?”

  Jonah was nodding. “The judge said a knife is a weapon, so I figured it would work. But Dinah yelled at me and wouldn’t let me do it.”

  “Good thinking. However. There’s some stuff you don’t know about yet, and that could cause problems.”

  “Like what?” Jonah bit into his doughnut.

  “Let’s see. How can I explain this?” Garret leaned forward, both elbows on the table. “You know there’s all different kinds of churches. Catholics, Baptists, plain old community churches. And they all trust Jesus, but they believe different things about Him. Some churches say that only God can decide if you live or die, and if you make that decision yourself—that is, if you kill yourself before God wants you to be dead—they say you can’t get into heaven.”

  “Then I wouldn’t see Mommy after all.”

  Dinah felt her mouth fall open.

  “Exactly.” Garret unpopped Jonah’s can and his own. “I have no idea whether they’re right or wrong, but if they’re right, you sure don’t want to take that chance. You don’t want to mess up so bad that you never ever get to see your mommy.”

  Jonah sat there, obviously deep in thought.

  Dinah watched them both but said nothing.

  Jonah mused, “So maybe Dinah was right about not letting me do it.”

  “I think so. She’s usually right about stuff. Besides, if Mutt is pregnant like we think, she’ll need you. You have to housebreak and train the puppies. They don’t do it by themselves, you know.”

  Dinah sat flabbergasted.

  “Okay. So I guess I can’t go and be with Mommy, huh?”

  Garret wagged his head gravely. “Not yet. Not until God wants you to. He knows best. Hey, I just remembered; Amber has to feed the fish. Can you go help her, please?”

  “Sure!” Jonah hopped up, his Orange Crush and doughnut forgotten, and hurried out.

  Dinah sank forward and propped her elbows on the table, too. “Thank you, Garret. You knew what to do before, quieting that meltdown; you were the only one I could think of now—you know, on short notice.” She sort of chuckled; not a happy chuckle at all. “And in a million years I would never have thought of that. You defused the situation brilliantly.”

  “He was telling me about when his mother was alive. He was the man of the house in every sense of the word. He may miss having all that responsibility; it was his life. Can you give him more responsibility? With Mutt, of course. But other things, too. Not just make-work, either. He’ll spot that in a heartbeat. Real responsibility.”

  “That’s a splendid idea.” She stopped. “Unfortunately, there’s not a whole lot to do in a condo. It’s why I moved there. I’ve never wanted to take the time to mow the lawn and all the stuff that goes with a larger place. I’m happiest in the lab; that’s where I wanted to devote my time.”

  “Creating new products, like Scoparia.”

  “Like Scoparia.” She smiled a sad smile, not a happy one. “Now if only they would let me help people with it.”

  “April told me. More tests. Apparently the FDA is considering classifying it as drug, and if they do…” He let it hang.

  “It’s not the FDA yet. Certain companies who stand to lose revenue are pushing it. But we can’t wait until it happens. More tests. More data. Say, you don’t know anyone with Type II diabetes, do you?”

  “I’ll sign my mother up.”

  “Your mother has diabetes?” She studied his face a moment, pulled her phone out of her bag and thumbed the speed dial. “April? Send a supply of Scoparia over here to Garret’s office, please. Today. And make sure the full info pamphlet is with it, not just the one-pager.” She watched Garret’s face. “Yes, he did. You can’t imagine how smoothly he got Jonah past it. I think we’re safe for the moment. I’ll tell you about it later.” April and she goodbyed each other and she dropped her phone back in her bag.

  “Thank you, Dinah. From what I hear, it might be a lifesaver. So far, she refuses to consider insulin.”

  “And I can’t thank you enough. And, really, I am going to get him professional help, as soon as possible.” She had started to rise when a little bell went ding in her
head. She sat down again. “Wait. April told you the FDA might cause problems? That’s proprietary information. Did she also mention that her husband is transferring?”

  “She did. She said—”

  Dinah found herself on her feet. Her brain was racing. “That’s not information she’s supposed to be blabbing all around! I can’t believe she’d—”

  And now he was on his feet, too. “She needed prayer support. She still does. When she learned she’d be leaving, we sat in her office a long time talking about options and praying. Your world is falling apart—we both see that—and it’s tearing her up just as bad as it’s tearing you up.”

  “But she doesn’t have a company to tear up! I do! When she leaves it’s going to go right down the toilet. And I can’t do this mom thing! And I don’t want puppies! Or prayer support! I am so sick of hearing about God and prayer and all that fiction!”

  He stood there, watching her. How could he make his eyes appear so tender and caring? So he had learned that April was leaving even before Dinah did. Days before! How could they betray her like this? Supposedly they were friends and yet behind her back, they were…so…so…Christian love? Bah!

  “Look, Garret, I’ve heard all the pretty platitudes. I know the lingo. From way younger than Jonah; we went to church every time the doors swung open—Wednesday and Sunday and any other time my mother and father decided we needed sanctifying. I accepted Jesus Christ as my savior when I was five, when I had absolutely no idea what I was saved from or saved for. I did it to please Gramma Grace and because it was expected of me. And don’t doubt that April and all those other so-called Christians in my company have been on my case for years.”

  He watched her. Simply watched her.

  She shuddered and covered her face as the universe crashed down upon her.

  Now his big, burly arms had wrapped around her, and one big healing hand was pressing her head to his shoulder while the other rubbed her back the way Gramma Grace had when she was so little and so vulnerable.

  She struggled for a fraction of a second and gave up. Gave up. No strength, no desire to live or breathe. She gave up. Dinah Marie Taylor, you were not raised to give up. She gave up. Melted against him.