by Mike Ramon
THE PROMISE OF RAIN
Cassie laughed as she saved Ken from taking a nosedive. She caught him and pulled him up until he was standing (well, sort of); he needed to lean on her for support.
“We’re almost there, honey,” she assured him.
“Whuh?”
She almost laughed again, but this time she was able to suppress it with an effort. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
“We’re home,” she said. “Now we just gotta get you inside and into bed.”
“Okay.”
At the door she had to hold onto him with one arm as she worked the key ring with her free hand until she found the house key. She unlocked the door and pushed it open; it swung back easily and rebounded slightly off the wall. Cassie led Ken through the doorway and leaned him up against the small table beside the door.
“Lean against this for a second,” she instructed.
She trusted him to stay upright with the aid of the table long enough for her to shut and lock the door, then take off her coat and hang it on a hook. She then helped him out of his own coat and hung it up next to hers. As she moved back to Ken he belched right in her face, an aroma of beer and onions.
“Ah, the little ways in which you show me you still love me,” Cassie said.
She helped him navigate his way on the epic journey first through the living room, then down the darkened hallway to the bedroom. Off came the clothes, on went the pajamas, and into bed he went. Cassie covered him with the bed sheet, kissed him on the cheek, and went into the bathroom, closing the door softly. She reached into the shower and turned on the faucet, pulling up the lever to divert the water up to the showerhead. She stripped out of her clothes, leaving them in a pile against the wall, then checked the water to see if it was warm enough. Finding it to her liking, she stepped into the shower and stood beneath the showerhead, letting the strong, warm spray of water wash over her, warm tendrils tracing down her skin; the warmth worked into her muscles, relaxing, soothing.
Cassie took her time, wanting to relish the pleasure of the hot, cleansing water. When she was finished, she grabbed a towel from the rack and dried herself off. She tossed the towel on the counter, switched off the light, and walked out into the bedroom; steam followed her out. The thick window curtain was slightly open, letting some light from the street shine through the sheer curtain that remained closed, giving her just enough light by which to navigate the room. She went to the dresser and found a pajama bottom, slipping it on. It took her a couple minutes to find the matching top; she put it on and buttoned it up.
She walked over to the window and opened up the sheer curtain, then unlatched and lifted the window. She breathed in the cool night air. Ken stirred behind her, and she turned to see him pulling the bed sheet tighter around himself; he had always been the type to get cold easily. Cassie closed the window and slid into bed beside Ken. She tried to go to sleep, but she couldn’t. After twenty minutes of tossing in bed (with Ken snoring contentedly beside her) she threw back the sheet and got up, slipping out of the room.
She went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, dropping in a few ice cubes to make it cold the way she liked it. The ice clinked against her teeth as she sipped slowly. When she finished the last sip of water, she poured what remained of the ice into her mouth and chewed it while rinsing out the glass. She went over to the kitchen window and stared outside. From here all she could see was the backyard and the wood slat fence marking the back edge of their property. There was a noise behind her, and Cassie turned to see Ken standing on the gloom, looking almost like a ghost in the shadows.
“I woke up, and you weren’t in bed,” he said.
“I was getting a drink. I’ll be there in a minute, babe.”
“Uh.”
He wandered out of the kitchen; she heard him stumble his way back to bed. Cassie would follow him soon, but she lingered in the kitchen just a while longer. She opened the kitchen window just a crack, once again letting the night air find its way into the house. She inhaled it deep into her lungs, breathed it out. She could smell rain coming. It hadn’t rained much at all lately, and she remembered reading something in the paper about farmers worrying because their crops were starting to die out. She hoped the farmers would find some comfort come morning, after the rain.
Cassie closed the window and walked to the bedroom, climbing into beside her husband and snuggling up close to him. He was dead asleep, but she gave him a kiss anyway. For a while she listened to the quiet of the house, to Ken’s breathing, to the sound of her own heartbeat. Then she closed her eyes. This time she had no trouble falling asleep, and within minutes her breath had steadied into a slow, soft rhythm.