Running Out of Rain

by Lori Leger

  For a woman who’d never had a career, she sure stayed busy. “You’re a good egg, mom, but promise me you’ll let me pick the figs from now on. If I’m too busy I’ll hire someone to do it for you.”

  Bess pursed her lips. “I’ll think about it. How was your day?”

  Cynthia put two cans of stewed tomatoes on the shelf. “I had a good day. Lots of road construction going on in the city around Lake Coburn Memorial. It feels like I’m driving in a maze. I could have done without the lane I-10 lane closure. It took forty-five minutes to drive the thirty miles from Lake Coburn to here.” Here, being Jennings, a city of 10,000, located sixty-five miles east of the Texas and Louisiana border on I-10.

  She emptied the bag and closed the pantry door. “You will not believe who I saw today at the hospital.”

  “From your tone, I suspect it’s someone I know.”

  “A set of twins were born on my day off. Preemies, and from what I hear, it got pretty hairy in the delivery room. The mother hemorrhaged and coded at one point. She’s fine though.”

  “Who are the parents?”

  “The father is Zach Ferguson from Lake Erin.”

  “Zach Ferguson … there was only one family of Ferguson’s left in Lake Erin, so he must be Marilee and J.D.’s …”

  “Grandson. He married a Cathryn McDaniel, also from Lake Erin.”

  “Cat—she’s Ellen and Paul’s daughter, right?”

  Cynthia shrugged. “I’m not sure. Gone over thirty years, remember? I vaguely remember Paul McDaniel, but I have no clue who he married.”

  Bess frowned. “Well you couldn’t have seen Paul, he passed away around the same time your father did.”

  “I saw John Michael and Mr. J.D. Did you know Ms. Marilee has Alzheimer’s? She’s in the latter stages, from the sound of it.” Her mother’s face fell.

  “I didn’t know. Poor Marilee—after fighting so hard to come back from cancer, too.”

  “Mr. J.D. said she was in a bad way in Lafayette when Dad passed.”

  Bess nodded. “I remember. We’d cross each other during chemo sessions sometimes. The treatment nearly did Marilee in, but she was so determined not to leave J.D.”

  “She made it through, but she’s leaving him in another way, I’m afraid. I told him about the meetings we have in the area for the families.”

  Bess made a face. “Those old men don’t go to therapy. They think it’s their duty to take on the whole world.” She clucked her tongue. “So this is John Michael’s first grandchildren?”

  “Sure is. Who did he marry, Mom? I know he’s a widower, but I can’t recall if she’s anyone I knew.”

  Her mother tapped her forehead as though trying to remember. “I think she was from Lafayette. She’d spend the summers with relatives in Lake Erin, but the family’s name escapes me right now. So, Johnny’s a widower. Seems like I remember a particular summer you had it pretty bad for him. If I remember correctly, he’s the one that started your father on the path to worrying.”

  Cynthia chuckled. “Whew, you remember correctly, Mama. I was thirteen when I developed a bad case of the ‘I wants’ for John Michael.”

  Bess slapped her thigh at a particular memory. “Ham had a fit when he caught you writing Mr. and Mrs. John Michael Ferguson all over something in your room one day.”

  “Yeah—it was my wall, so a fit would have been appropriate.”

  “Hadn’t we recently painted it for you?”

  Cynthia nodded. “Yes, you did. And I can totally understand how furious Dad was with me now, but at the time I thought he was being terribly unfair. After all, it was my room and my wall. Why shouldn’t I be able to plaster it with the love of my life’s name in permanent black marker?” She shook her head. “Thirteen year old girls are so ridiculous.” She smiled at a particular memory. “Mmm, that was right after he kissed me.”

  “What? At thirteen? Where did he kiss you?”

  “I’m almost sure it was on the mouth.”

  “Oh poo! You know what I’m talking about.”

  A low chuckle issued from Cynthia as she shook her head. “It was once, and forty years ago, mom. What are you going to do? Give me a retroactive grounding?”

  Bess burst into laughter. “I suppose you’re right. But I’m still curious about where it happened.”

  “I got my first kiss behind the feed store building—he’d been unloading bales of hay from a trailer, stacking them in the shed out back. I think he was showing off a little for me.” She laughed. “I think I wounded his ego by offering to help. He said no, of course, but I remember watching him and even at thirteen years old his arms were muscular. I’m pretty sure none of the other guys our age were nearly as well developed. It was my first time at really becoming aware of a boy as …” Her voice trailed off.

  “Are you trying to tell me he awakened my thirteen year old daughter’s sexual desires?”

  Cynthia grinned at her mom. “Yeah. I guess he did. He took my hand, pulled me between two tall stacks of hay, and he kissed me.” She placed one hand over her heart. “It was so romantic.”

  Her mother gave her a bland look. “You and I clearly have different perceptions of romance.”

  Cynthia burst into laughter. “Whatever, Mom. It was perfectly acceptable for my very first kiss.”

  Bess frowned. “I’m not sure it was your first. I remember having to go to school to justify the black eye you gave a little boy in third grade for kissing you.”

  “Well, John’s was the first kiss I actually wanted from a boy.” She fanned her face. “He was good looking then, and all through high school, but you should see him now. He’s the perfect combination of Jim Caviezel and Pierce Brosnan with a little bit of Sam Elliot thrown in for good measure.”

  Her mother nodded. “He’s got good genes. J.D. and Marilee are both good-looking people. Johnny gets his height from Marilee’s side of the family, though. J.D. never reached six feet tall and from what I can remember Johnny was quite a bit taller than his dad.”

  “Mr. J.D. looks good for a man his age though. It’s so sad about Ms. Marilee.”

  “It doesn’t seem fair. That family has had its share of heartache already—the daughter they lost back in the ‘70s.”

  Cynthia’s eyes widened at total recall of the horrendous event. “I’ve been gone so long I’d forgotten.”

  “I think the entire town of Lake Erin tried to forget it.” Bess sniffed and wiped the corner of one eye with her pinky. “The Ferguson’s have weathered some terrible storms. Of everything Alzheimer’s has taken from my old friend, Marilee, I pray it took the memory of Jenna’s death from her first.” She picked up the bagful of bathroom items and headed toward the hall. “It’s too much rain for one family, I tell you. Too darn much rain.”

  Her mother’s comment brought back a flood of memories for Cynthia. In an instant she was transported back to a fall morning at Lake Erin high school—her and John Michael’s sophomore year. One week after his sister, Jenna, had been crowned the football team’s homecoming queen.

  Cynthia was sick, running a fever and she’d been heading to Ms. Jane’s office to call her mom. Her hand was on the door knob when it wrenched open, and John Michael rushed out, wild eyed and shaking his head furiously, nearly knocking her over.

  “No! There’s no way in hell my sister’s dead. I don’t want to hear it!” He’d paused in front of her, his frantic gaze locked onto her for a second before he rushed to the heavy glass lobby door and shoved it open. He hit the street, running like a scared rabbit in a full-out sprint. In seconds, he’d disappeared from view.

  She’d turned at the sound of soft sobbing, saw his parents standing there, Ms. Marilee in tears, Mr. J.D.s mouth set in a grim line. Both of them visibly devastated—their son in a state of absolute denial.

  She’d walked over to where the couple stood and gave Marilee a gentle hug. The poor woman had latched on to her, collapsing into heartbroken sobs.

  Cynthia’s biggest regret had been
missing the wake and funeral because of the flu. By the time she saw her classmate again, some cataclysmic shift had occurred between them—altering what had always been an easy, relaxed friendship, bordering a little on the flirtatious. After that day, he barely spoke to her, and when he did, his demeanor was stiff, uncomfortable. For the remainder of high school he couldn’t seem to look her in the eye.

  Thank goodness that phase had passed, because seeing him today made her realize how much she’d missed seeing John Michael’s eyes. Eyes such a beautiful shade of blue she still referred to the color as “Ferguson blue”.

  John hesitated for a moment at the door, stopping long enough to send up a brief prayer. Please let it be a good day for dad’s sake. He followed his father into the room, stopped inside and waited.

  Marilee Ferguson turned her head to face them, her eyes blank.

  And there it was. The cue telling them both she had absolutely no idea who they were. God, he hated this. Visits on days like this sapped him of energy, made him want to turn tail and run out of there before one word was spoken. But his dad forged ahead, as usual, determined to make her remember.

  “There’s my girl. How are you today, Marilee?”

  John Michael held his breath, hoping her next words wouldn’t be accompanied by a terrified scream or a look of suspicion and panic as they sometimes were. Instead, she cocked her head to the side, narrowed her eyes in concentration. “Do I know you gentlemen?”

  He released his breath slowly as his dad chuckled and nodded.

  “I believe we’ve met a time or two.” J.D. held out a fresh bouquet of Forget-Me-Not flowers to his wife. “John David Ferguson, ma’am, but you can call me J.D. to make it easier. This is my son, John Michael.”

  Obviously relying heavily on her friendly Cajun roots, Marilee accepted the flowers graciously. The corners of her light brown eyes crinkled as she beamed up at her husband, the crow’s feet and laugh lines a testimony to the years of a happy life, despite the previous rough patches. “Oh thank you, they’re so pretty. These must be my favorite, I think, because I always seem to have them in my room. It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Ferguson. I’m sorry I’m not who you think I am. I don’t know any Marilee. I’m—I’m—ah, I seem to be having a senior moment.” She closed her eyes, frowned, opened them again. “Jenna. I think my name is Jenna.”

  John had to take a step back, watched in amazement, as his dad took less than a split second to compose himself.

  J.D. smiled, leaned over to place a chivalrous kiss on his wife’s hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, too. Jenna is a beautiful name for such a beautiful lady.” He shot a glance in his son’s direction—still smiling, but the sparkle in his eyes somewhat dimmed.

  John took a deep breath and released it slowly. He stepped forward to place a comforting hand on his father’s shoulder before kneeling in front of “Jenna’s” chair. It broke his heart every time he had to do this but he did it anyway. He’d do anything to keep some kind of link between himself and the woman who’d given birth to him, loved him, and nurtured him throughout the first fifty-three years of his life. The least he could do was to return the favor in her last years, whether she recognized him or not.

  He extended his hand, met her curious gaze. “I’m John Michael, Ms. Jenna. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  The drive from the nursing home to the hospital was a quiet one for the two men. John waited until he parked his Ford truck in an available spot in the parking lot before turning to his dad.

  “You all right, Pop?”

  The old man wiped his face with one hand, shook his head. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way, Johnny. We were supposed to be together.” He stopped suddenly, faced his son. “But then again, I’m preaching to the choir, here, aren’t I? At least your mother’s alive.”

  John nodded. “Yeah, she is. That doesn’t change facts. You’re every bit as alone as I am.”

  J.D. nodded. “I am, but you don’t have to be, you know. I can’t see Bethie wanting you to live out the rest of your life without someone to go home to. Maybe it’s time to move on, Son.”

  John stared ahead at the hospital, couldn’t help but think of his beautiful, sweet Beth and wonder if his dad was right. The thought had him wondering if he’d see Cynthia today. Immediately, he felt a wave of guilt wash over him. “God almighty, I miss my wife. I know she’s gone, but I’ll always love her.” He looked over at his dad and smiled. “But I guess I’m preaching to the choir too, aren’t I?”

  J.D. nodded—his expression a combination of sadness and acceptance. “If you find someone else, it doesn’t mean you have to stop loving your wife, Johnny. Marilee and I had almost sixty wonderful years together before this disease started affecting our lives. You deserve the same chance to grow old with someone.”

  John nodded. “Maybe you’re right.” He grabbed the door handle. “We’ll see, anyway.”

  Cynthia approached the third floor nurses station. “Bee, here’s the form you called about. I can show you how to access the electronic file though. You have a printer right there.”

  “Uh huh, yeah I know.” Bee whisked the paper from her hands and dropped it carelessly onto the desk. “But if I had, look what you would have missed. That fine hunk o’ man is here again, and I did not imagine him craning his neck to look for you.” She pushed her toward corridor A. “I sent Patrice in there to change his daughter-in-law’s sheets so “Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sexy as Hell is waiting outside the room for the all clear to go back inside. You can thank me later.”

  Cynthia balked, but the smooth foam soles of her shoes acted as useless, grip-less glides as Bee pushed her out into the center of the corridor’s intersection. She turned to gape at her, and then heard her name being called. She spun around to see John Michael standing outside the room, as Bee said. He waved and started walking toward her. She had no option, did she, other than to meet him halfway? Considering she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the man since she’d seen him again, she sure as hell hoped he found the nerve to ask her out.

  He stopped in front of her, slapped his hat on one long, lean thigh—shifting his weight nervously from one booted foot to the other. “Hey Cyn, I was hoping to see you today.”

  She lifted her arms to indicate her surroundings. “There was a good chance you would as long as your daughter-in-law is here on this floor.”

  He passed one hand through his hair and looked up and down the hall. “Is there some place we could go to talk for a bit?”

  Her breath hitched and she couldn’t help but hope for a favorable outcome. She pointed to the alcove behind him. “There’s a small waiting area right here.”

  He took four long strides to the room she’d indicated, before turning back to her. “It’s empty.”

  She met him, sucked in her breath at the feel of his hand on the small of her back as he ushered her inside.

  “You, uh—you want something to drink?” He pointed to the vending machine.

  “No, I’m fine, thanks.” She sat on one of the cushioned sofas in the room and patted the seat beside her. “Sit, John Michael. I’ll get a crick in my neck looking up at you.” She waited for him to sit then placed a hand on his knee, hoping to put him at ease. “Now, what do you want to talk about? Do you have a concern about your daughter-in-law or your grandchildren?”

  “No, not at all,” he rushed in. “I was wondering—I was hoping …” He stopped to take a breath and released it slowly. “I’ve been a widower for fifteen years and I know it hasn’t been long since you lost your husband. But, after seeing you yesterday, I was wondering if you’d maybe want to go out sometime? I could take you to lunch or to supper if you have time.”

  She fought to keep her cool—not easy when her heart was about to thud right out of her chest. She was a grandmother, for crying out loud, not a teenage girl.

  “I’d like that.”

  He gave her a quick nod then stood. “All right, then. It’s settled.” He walked to the door.


  “John Michael.”

  He pivoted. “Yes?”

  She grinned. “Do you have a date or time in mind?”

  “Oh! No, I haven’t had time to think about it. My mind hasn’t quite adjusted to you saying yes.”

  Cynthia reached inside her pocket for a business card and held it out to him. “This has all my numbers. Give me a call when you’re ready.”

  He walked over to her, took the card. “I’m ready now. It’s been so long since I’ve asked anyone for a date. I guess I forgot how to do it with any kind of finesse.”

  She laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m in the same predicament as you, remember? I understand, completely.”

  He checked his watch. “Do you get lunch breaks? I could take you some place around here if you’d like. It’d be nice to catch up a little before an actual date.”

  “I can’t take a break until 12:00 and I have a procedure scheduled at 1:00. I’ll probably grab something in the cafeteria.”

  Was it wrong of her to adore the way his face fell in disappointment? “I’d love the company if you’d like to join me. They make a decent meatloaf and their mashed potatoes are passable.” Her heart did a somersault at the sudden grin creasing his handsome face. The single right dimple she’d swooned over as a young girl made its appearance—and had the same effect as it had back then.

  “That’d be nice, Cyn. Pop and I just came from seeing my mom and I could go for something to lift my spirits about now.”

  “I didn’t see your dad. He’s welcome to come also.”

  “He’s in the restroom.”

  They both turned toward the door as his dad appeared suddenly. He entered the room, stopping short when he saw Cynthia seated on the couch. “Hey there, young lady, I didn’t realize you were in here.”

  She rose to greet him. “How are you doing, Mr. J.D.?”

  He nodded. “I’m good. I’m looking forward to seeing those babies again.”

  “There’s nothing like new grandbabies to make the world seem a little brighter, huh?”