by Stacey Ritz
Rainie poured over her laptop, responding to emails, desperately trying to lessen the demands of her inbox. Ronnie napped on the couch, covered by a fluffy white down comforter. Sarah-Jayne sat alone on the porch swing looking out at the ocean waves, a tangled mess of yarn in her arms. Rainie responded to donors, completed check-in reports from grant funders, ordered a new delivery of straw, hay, and pellet feed for the chickens. She scanned the emails for rescue alerts and began sifting through the requests one after another. The need was endless and the emotional toll was a heavy burden. Her decision to help another animal was always a life or death decision and she never took it lightly. However, she only had so much room at the sanctuary and there were only so many hands to help. She couldn’t agree to bring in too many animals or those who were there wouldn’t get the level of care they deserved. The task of deciding the next rescue animal was arduous. She tried her best to cope with this matter by focusing on what she could do, rather than on what she couldn’t.
Sarah-Jayne surprised her when she spoke, standing at her shoulder. “That’s a lot of emails.” She smiled, patting Rainie on the back. “Can I get you a glass of lemonade?”
“Thanks.” Rainie looked up at her. “And yes, it’s a lot of emails. Too many to keep up with.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
Rainie appreciated the offer, but knew there was nothing her mama could do to assist at the moment. She rested her forehead in her hands. “I’m in need of a bigger property if I want to keep helping animals.” She frowned. “If you know of a place with over a hundred acres, where I can move my farm, that would help.” Rainie laughed, knowing her request was an impossible one to fulfill. But she wasn’t going to consume herself with the issue at the moment. She’d face the matter once she returned home. Right now, she had to get through as many emails as she could and let it go. Rebecca assured her that everything was going well at the farm with the animals, employees and volunteers. Rainie drew in a long, deep breath as Sarah-Jayne handed her a cold glass of lemonade.
“Thanks.”
“It will all work itself out, sweetheart.” She motioned for Rainie to close her computer and join her on the deck.
Rainie didn’t know if her mom was right or not, but she was happy to escape the interminable emails for now and join her mama on the porch swing. Rationally, she knew studying the waves, sipping on lemonade and sitting next to her mama weren’t going to solve the problems of the world, but as they sat in silence, swinging gently back and forth, Rainie felt her heartbeat begin to slow. She wasn’t busy saving the world at the moment, but she may be, she decided, saving herself.
That night at La Dolce Vita, Rainie laughed so hard she nearly choked on her lasagna. “Do you remember when we all had to jump the fence at track practice because Coach lost his key? When you jumped, your shorts ripped!”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. They ripped right down the middle!”
Milo smiled broadly, “They did.”
“And you ran to the locker room and brought back an extra pair of your shorts for me.”
“I saved you from mortal embarrassment.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Well, I don’t know about that. I was humiliated! But…” She took a sip of water. “You did make it much better than it could have been. I could have wound up with some pretty awful nicknames after that.”
He nodded as they both laughed in unison. “I’ve really missed you, Rainie.”
She gulped, looking back at him from across the table. “It’s like we’ve never been apart.”
They grew quiet, both worried they’d said too much.
“I’ve missed your goofy dances.” Milo teased, breaking the tension.
Rainie’s face grew pink, she was thankful for the dim lighting in the restaurant. “Goofy?” She couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “You mean, like this?” She stood from her chair, not caring if she drew attention to herself. The only person she could see was Milo. She threw her arms in front of her and began moving forward, looking at Milo and nodding as she completed the move.
“That was one of my favorite moves! You called it the shopping cart.”
Encouraged, Rainie demonstrated another dance move. This time she used one hand to pinch her nose while placing the other hand above her head, waving it in the air as she wiggled her hips down to the ground.
“The snorkel!”
She nodded, sitting back down in her chair across from Milo, not realizing the number of eyes that were on her, smiling at her innocence.
“Do you still do those moves?”
Grinning, Rainie answered, “No way! I haven’t been like this,” she motioned to her makeshift dance floor, “since you.” Clearing her throat, she tore her attention from his big brown eyes and tried to focus on her meal, taking a deliberate bite.
“You have some food on your cheek.” His dimples stared back at her.
Rainie used her napkin to wipe her face. “Gone?”
“Almost.”
She tried again.
“Here…” Milo reached across the table and gently wiped her cheek. Their eyes locked as he pulled his arm away.
“Thanks.” She whispered.
Rainie took a drink and looked around the room. After a few minutes of silence, she spoke. “The sanctuary is in need of more property.” It was random, but it was something. It was a change of topic.
Milo nodded. “Are you rescuing more animals?”
“Always…well, whenever we can. But we need more space to do it.”
“Understandable.” He thought about it. “Any leads?”
“Not yet. But I didn’t realize how fast we were growing until I stepped away.”
“I had the veterinary office open seven days a week when I first started.” He shared. “It was tough never taking a day off. Finally, I realized I needed to cut back to a schedule that was sustainable long-term.”
“Five days now?”
“Six, but I have another vet who comes in one or two days a week to help with the load. I work four or five days a week at the office. Then, of course, there’s loads of paperwork…I need to hire an office manager to handle that.”
“It’s not such a bad thing our endeavors are growing, is it?” Rainie smiled.
“No, it’s not at all. You have to keep growing and adjusting.”
“You’ve got that right.”
Rainie asked about Milo’s day and he shared that he and his brothers had been boogie-boarding in the ocean. “You should come with us next time.” He winked.
“It’s a date.” She raised her eyebrows. It’s a date is what he’d said to her when they’d first agreed to meet for dinner in Corolla earlier in the week. “You tell me when and where.”
“Rainie…” Milo’s voice went from playful to a quiet seriousness.
Her stomach instantly tightened.
“There hasn’t been anyone serious since you.” His words were soft, his eyes filled with tenderness.
Now was her moment to talk about Cooper. Rainie gulped, not wanting to bring him into the conversation, but knowing that she should. After all, she’d promised herself and she knew she needed to be upfront with Milo. He deserved it. Rainie winced before speaking. What was there to say, exactly? What was Cooper to her at this point?
Beach house vacation rentals went from Sunday evening to Sunday morning. Rainie planned on leaving Saturday, knowing she had a ten hour drive ahead of her. With only a few days left in Corolla, she wondered what the future held for her. Would she stay in touch with Ronnie and her mama? Would she ever see Milo again? Would she meet her niece or nephew? “I’m sort of seeing this guy back home…in Lexington.” She pieced her words together, trying to form a complete sentence. “His name is Cooper.”
Milo nodded, recalling the phone call Rainie’s mother had mentioned the other day.
“We’ve been dating a few months. I don’t know if it’s serious or not. He’s a real estate agent.” She took a sip of water, clench
ing her spare fist on her lap. “He said he loved me.” She hadn’t wanted to say that, but she couldn’t stop the words from pouring from her lips. She and Milo had grown up telling each other everything. When they got to school, they’d tell each other what they ate for breakfast. If they ate lunch apart, they told each other what they’d eaten. Sitting across from him now, although they were no longer children, Rainie still felt compelled to share everything with her best friend.
“And did you say it back?” He shook his head. “Sorry…none of my business.”
“No, no. I want to tell you.” She looked him, finding his eyes. “He texted me those words. And no, I didn’t text him back. In fact, we never talked about it again.”
Milo nodded, listening patiently, although his heart was heavy.
“He’s not…the one.” Rainie added quietly, still meeting Milo’s eyes.
“How do you know?”
“Because…” She pressed her lips together.
“Refills?” The waiter appeared, standing between their chairs, an eager look on his face.
Rainie finally pulled her gaze away from Milo’s and looked at the waiter. “No, thank you.” He turned to look at Milo.
“I’m okay. Thanks.” Milo quickly turned his attention back to Rainie, wanting her to finish.
Instead, Rainie pushed her hair behind her ears, looking at her plate and then back at Milo. “There’s something I want to tell you, but I don’t know if I can.”
〜
Rainie sat with her flute in its worn black case resting beside her. Her legs swung from the wooden bench, too short yet to reach the ground. One by one her fellow fifth grade friends had been picked up by their parents. Until ten minutes ago, she’d had one other student to wait with, Randy Foggs. But then his mother had come to pick him up and she was left alone, looking out into an empty parking lot once again. Two excruciating hours later, Dan Amburger pulled the white family mini-van in front of her, motioning for her to hurry to the car.
“Running late!” He said chipperly.
Rainie stared ahead, thankful to finally be heading home.
“Last one?”
She nodded.
That weekend Dan found an oversized inflated ball in the garage and with a cigarette dangling from his lips, asked, “Do you and Ronnie want to play a game of kick-ball? Get your mama, too.”
Rainie skipped eagerly to gather the rest of the family. She’d played kick ball with her dad a few times in the past, but understood how fleeting moments like this were. The pendulum of his moods more often than not, yielded on the side of ridicule and disconnection. But every now and then, the pendulum swung to a more cheerful side. She’d teamed up with her dad, and Ronnie with Mama. They’d played until one of the teams reached ten runs. Ronnie and her mama had won. They’d all laughed and high-fived. It was a rare moment, but one where Rainie believed they all were a real family, regardless of how brief the occasion. Rainie desperately wanted to hang on to the good memories while discarding the bad.
The next day she’d listened through the floor boards of her bedroom as her dad shouted at her mom with distain, “You’re weak. You’re a weak woman.” She thought of her mom now, at nearly sixty years of age, after so many years apart. She was finally seeing her mom without the attachment of her dad. Sarah-Jayne Amburger wasn’t feeble. She was anything but weak. She’d survived something words couldn’t describe. She’d survived and look at her now. She was rebuilding her life. Rainie decided in that moment, that Sarah-Jayne was one of the strongest women she had ever known. Maybe she hadn’t always been strong, or maybe she had. But what she’d endured and who she was becoming, Rainie was certain, was what made her mama a force to be reckoned with. Rainie thought, it isn’t the things that break us that make us who we are, it’s who we become after those breaks that define our lives.
The estrangement between Rainie and her father resulted in a schism between Rainie and her mama. Next, it spread to her little sister, Ronnie. And ultimately, it scared her away from Milo, the man she thought of as her best friend in the entire world, the one she was sure she’d spend the rest of her life with. She knew then, just as she knew now, an estrangement didn’t occur in a single moment. It was many moments; years of suffering from questions, shame and fear. A painful compounding of belittling, arguments and of holding your breath. It was years of waiting for an oxygen mask to be given to you, with none ever suppled.
She’d known she had to break away from her dad. And to break away from her dad meant to break away from her mom. They were invariably attached. You couldn’t see Sarah-Jayne without seeing Dan, or at least hearing about him. And Rainie knew she couldn’t do that if she wanted to grow stronger, if she wanted a life different than the one she’d witnessed growing up. Ronnie had been a casualty of the situation when she’d argued with Rainie to give her dad another chance. Rainie was away at college then, Ronnie was still at home, now alone without her big sisters protection.
“Stop being bitter. Come home.” Ronnie would cry to her older sister.
Despite how her heart ached for her little sister, despite how much she wanted to scoop her in her arms and carry her away from that house, she’d argued back, telling Ronnie she didn’t understand. “You don’t know what it’s been like. I’ve protected you. I’ve shielded you, Ronnie. It’s too hard.”
At the time, Ronnie hadn’t understood. And Rainie hadn’t known that Dan Amburger had put Ronnie up to that particular phone call. He’d known why his daughter had pulled away and he’d wanted to make her regret it. He’d known the way to do that was through Ronnie.
And then there was Milo. The calamity had destroyed their indestructible bond. One person, Rainie thought shaking her head, can alter your entire life. And that’s exactly what Dan Amburger had done.
〜
Although they’d told each other everything while growing up, there was one thing Rainie hadn’t told Milo. As they finished dinner at La Dolce Vita that night, she decided it was time. He deserved to know. Before she spoke, Rainie wondered how you described a lifetime of pain with only a few sentences. “Milo, there’s something I want to tell you.”
He nodded, learning slightly forward in his chair. He hoped she would finish her sentence from earlier, when they’d been interrupted by the waiter who had less than impeccable timing.
Instead, Rainie said, “I’m sorry I left you.” She paused. “I know this is coming way too late.” She sighed, finding his eyes. “Did you know that my grandma sewed a baby outfit for me when I was born, but she’d forgotten to give it to my parents? She mailed it to me when I was eighteen. I received it right before I left for college. She pinned a note to the outfit that said, ‘Better late than never.’ She’d told me to hang onto it for my own children one day.” Rainie shook her head, grinning. “Anyway…that’s not what I wanted to tell you. Gosh…I haven’t rambled on like this in…I don’t ramble.” She looked up at the ceiling, willing herself to stop blathering and to get on with her point. “Sorry. What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry I left you…the way I did.” She turned her head, her lips tugging into a slight frown as she fought off tears. “Let me try that again. I’m sorry I left you. And I’m sorry I left you the way I did.”
Milo sat quietly across from her, watching the words leave her lips. Watching her eyes fill with sadness. “You broke my heart.”
She nodded. “I know. I broke mine, too.” She sighed. “The difference was, I knew why. You didn’t. And I owe you that much after all of this time.”
“I tried to reach you once you left. You wouldn’t return my calls or letters.”
“I know.” Her fists tightened beneath the table. “I’m sorry, Milo. I’m so sorry. You have to believe me.”
“Why did you do it? Was there someone else?”
“No. No, nothing like that. I promise. There was no one else.”
“What was it then?” His words were reticent and calm.
“I never told you this before, but my dad was
an alcoholic.” She let the words settle between them. “He’d go missing from the house and from his work for days, sometimes weeks. He was in and out of jail. He could…He was downright mean a lot of times.”
“I’m so sorry, Rainie. I didn’t know.” As much time as the two of them had spent together, Rainie had always insisted it was spent at the Rivers’ house and not her own. Milo hadn’t thought much about it. When she’d bring Ronnie with her, toting her in the red wagon she pulled next to her bike, she’d said her parents had been fighting. “Did he…hurt you?”
She shook her head. “Not physically. But it was hard…dealing with him.” She took a drink of water before continuing. “I grew up in a home that was very different than yours.”
Milo kept his eyes trained on hers, wanting Rainie to know he was here for her, whatever she may need.
“When we graduated, you started drinking. At first, it was with your friends, and then you started having beers around me.” She paused. “It…it reminded me of my dad. Until then, I’d always thought we’d go to college together…I naively thought we’d be together, forever. Honestly, it had never been a question to me, it was a given.”
“Me too.”
“But when you were drinking, all I could think is that you were going to become my dad…which meant I would fall into the role of my mom. And I didn’t want those things to happen to either of us. I know it might sound drastic, but growing up in that house…you were my escape from all of that.”
The waiter appeared again, standing between them with a cheerful smile. “Can I take your plates?” They both nodded, handing them to him.
“Dessert tonight? We have a wonderful Crème Brûlée…we also have a New York Style Cheesecake…”
“No, thank you.” Rainie shook her head, wanting to finish her conversation with Milo.
“Thank you.” Milo nodded, sending the waiter away. “The meal was delicious.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before you went away?” Milo asked. Rainie could see the hurt swelling in his eyes.