Midnight Rain

by Jettie Woodruff

  Blake eyed the shirt and asked, “When did you do this?” he questioned, turning his phone to show me the picture of Pea on his lap, giggling the girliest giggle there ever was. Even through the photo I could hear her laughter.

  “All day long,” I admitted. He smiled and swiped his thumb over his screen. I must have posted fifty photos of this day. I may have even snuck one in of the mess Pea made in the bathroom.

  “Can I stop now?” Pea called from upstairs.

  “No, I’m coming.”

  I slipped the adult sized shirt over Pea’s head and it hung to just above her knees, fitting her like a nightgown. “Let’s brush your hair.”

  “Noooo way,” she yelled, ducking under my arm.

  I let her go and cleaned her toothpaste out of the sink. She argued my theory of it being easier to brush out in the morning if we brushed it before bed. She assured me that was only going to make it hurt two times. I guess she had a point.

  I freshened myself up and slid on a pair of basketball shorts and one of Blake’s plain white tees. I sat on the bottom step when I heard him inside the tent with Pea.

  “Did Grandma Sarah tell you where it came from?”

  “Yes. She said it was my mommy’s favorite shirt and that’s why this thumb is scuffed off a little. Because my mom sleeped in it all the time.”

  “Slept. I remember this shirt too. It was hiding for ten years. Do you know why?”

  “Yes, because Grandma Sarah was going to cut it and sew it in a blanket and my mommy didn’t want her to cut it. Then my mom forgot about it and didn’t remember where she hid it. But Grandma Sarah found it stuffed inside of a stuffed animal.”

  “Yes, and that’s when I was introduced to this shirt. Your grandma found it and decided to wrap it up for her for Christmas. I think she screamed to the moon she was so happy. Your mom swore that it was the most comfortable shirt in the entire world.”

  “And it keeps bad dreams away.”

  “Do you have bad dreams?”

  “No. I have happy dreams. Cause I’m happy.” Swoon. That melted my heart into a pile of goo. The last part shattered it. “Because I have you and Mikki, and my grandmas and my grandpa. And everybody loves me.”

  “That’s because you’re so special.”

  “No, it’s because I’m a princess like a boss.”

  Blake laughed and Pea giggled. God I was so in love with this family. I joined them in the tent, deciding to let them keep the special tee-shirt between the two of them. I was okay with that.

  “I’m sorry I let your balloon go,” I said, moving beside her.

  “It’s okay. We’re getting another one tomorrow.”

  “I’m going to grab a quick shower,” Blake said, bailing on me. Where the hell was I supposed to get a helium filled giraffe?

  “Crawl in,” I said, unzipping the Frozen sleeping bag. Pea scooted in and I zipped her arms up to her neck. “Do you want a story?”

  “Yes, about the princess and the pea.”

  “I told you that one once already today.”

  “But it’s my favorite one, and I’m a princess like a boss.”

  “I’m going to give you princess like a boss,” I threatened with stiff fingers right above her hip bone. She screamed and thrashed her arms free.

  “Well you did lose my favorite giraffe balloon.”

  “You’re a conspirator. That’s what you are little girl.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Someone that makes me feel bad to get her way.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m a spiriter. Now tell me.”

  “Once upon a time, for the millionth time.”

  “Mikki,” Pea whined. I lay on her pillow and stared up at the tent ceiling and told it to her the right way. I stopped when I could tell by the sound of her breathing she’d fallen asleep. Sliding my hand up my ribs, I moved my fingers overtop of the lump and sighed.

  “Come on, I have wine,” Blake whispered from the entrance. I moved my hand away from the dreadful disease and crawled out.

  “Where did you get that?”

  “Holden, housewarming present.”

  “You liar. You told him to bring it.”

  “Let’s have a glass and look at your mom’s scrap book.”

  So that’s what we did; I sat between his legs, my favorite place to sit, and opened the book. We sipped wine and turned to the picture of my mom in front of the hotel. The next photo was decorated with stickers and a pink note, taped at all four corners.

  Guess who just landed a job in Atlanta, Georgia for the summer? This girl. I am going to be hanging out with a seven year old while her parents are busy with renovations. How cool is that?

  Blake’s body stiffened a little when he saw her. I felt it. She looked sad, sitting on a bench in a frilly green dress and white gloves. The caption read:

  This is the cutest kid in the entire world. Why is she so closed off?

  The next photo was the same sad girl, sitting beside my mother on an old piano bench. The room was definitely under construction, the plastic wall was a dead giveaway. Janie looked up to my mom, and that was how it went for the next few pages. Little notes and photos of my mom and Janie playing an old piano in a construction zone filled the pages. It was Pea déjà vu. I watched Janie’s face change with the frilly little dresses.

  I audibly gasped when I read the next note and saw the shirt. My mom was wearing the silly shirt with a sad face. The photo taped just below it was Janie in an extravagant, silky bed, wearing the same shirt.

  Gave away my favorite shirt today.

  That was above her sad faced photo. The smiling little girl with my mom’s shirt got her own caption.

  The new princess like a boss. Couldn’t have handed it off to a more special person.

  The next phase was a photo of a young handsome Barry with a prayer for a caption. He was wearing a suit and tie, smiling right at the camera.

  Dear, God, please give me strength.

  Blake and I sipped wine and watched the love affair bloom. Not only with Barry, but Janie too. My mom loved that little girl, and every page told the same truth. There was not a doubt in my mind had my mom not given into that temptation that Janie would have always been in her life. I think had she not felt guilty for hurting Sarah, she would have kept in contact with her. I believe that with all my heart. At least she too was able to transfer the focus off the all mighty dollar and to where it belonged; to Janie.

  And Karma knocks.

  That was the next caption, right above the photo of a black and white ultrasound.

  “That’s you,” Blake whispered in my ear.

  “Yeah,” I said in a quiet monotone. It was me and my mom was in love with Barry Holden. The photos of her broken heart, and going through it alone, were tough. The desperate attempts to reach him throughout her pregnancy were captioned in hurtful titles above photos of a broken woman.

  Three months, and he still doesn’t care.

  My mom with her hand on her belly.

  Six months along and my number is now blocked.

  A photo of a smashed cordless phone on the floor and a dent in the wall; the phone wasn’t the smashing tool. I was sure of that. The multiple pieces and parts led me to believe that it was her foot.

  How could I be so stupid?

  A photo with a pile of gifts was on fire in a makeshift pit. A teddy bear, a couple of cd’s, a sweatshirt, tickets, programs pamphlets and an old book.

  I miss him so much.

  This photo was someone cut and taped to the book from a magazine. Black mascara ran down the sad eyes.

  Oh, God, it hurts.

  This one wasn’t my mom either. It was a girl on her knees, praying to the heavens above with outreached arms. The despair and agony in her devastated state caused me to feel her pain, only it wasn’t the stranger’s pain I felt. It was my mom’s. She was truly in love with Barry Holden. She never told me that. She told me that it was a summer fling.

  I can’t do this alone.r />
  My mother was very sad in the next photo. The size of her stomach was a dead giveaway. She was ready to have me.

  God, I mess Janie Lynn.

  Four pictures of Janie; one being silly while wearing a dust mask on her head, one with her in jeans rolled up her legs and wading in a stream, one sitting on my mother’s lap playing the piano and one with her dad.

  Call me back you fucking bastard!

  Another broken phone, this one was white.

  Fine! I don’t need you.

  This was a photo of Barry with no shirt, smiling with his eyes as much as he was with his lips. The photo was ripped into seven pieces and taped, angrily back together.

  I think you’re a low-life.

  This one was an article about Zazen opening a resort in Pittsburg, and how excited the city was for the new jobs and the renovation of an entire block. Sarah was in the photo with Barry and Janie.

  I hope you rot in hell.

  Another article; ‘Zazen Resort’s comes to Charleston.’

  It’s a girl. What do you think of the name Makayla?

  This was another ultrasound picture. An arrow pointed to my girly parts.

  Oh, my loving God in heaven. I am in love. Quite possibly for the first time in my life. Told you I didn’t need you…

  The caption was just above her head and the last twenty pages of the book were erased. There was no more sadness, no more hurt, and no more pleading. The lonely, broken heart was replaced with a mended full heart. My grandma stood beside the hospital bed and kissed the newborn little head in my mother’s arms. My forehead.

  The very last photo was a picture of me captioned…

  This is the love of my life. I may not follow my dream to Vegas, but I’ve got something better. Nothing else matters but this little girl. I just signed up for nursing school and I have to say, I’m a little bit excited about it. I will continue to play, and someday I will play in the Chicago symphony. Until then, I am going to play with this perfect little person. I love her so much, and in my one year closing I state this.

  I, Victoria Rain Carlie, had the best year of my life. I’m a perfect example of somebody, thanking God for unanswered prayers. This was worth it all, and I would do it again in a heartbeat.

  I closed the book with a sigh, “My mom was in love with him. Why wouldn’t she tell me that?”

  Blake pulled me closer and kissed my cheek from behind, “I don’t know, guess it was more than a summer fling.”

  “No doubt. I mean I was born in September, why didn’t I think about that before? She got pregnant with me in like, January, therefore her summer fling lasted longer than that summer.”

  “You know he will give you the answers to any questions you have, don’t you?

  “You think? Do you think he knew? I mean my mom tried to tell him from day one.”

  “No, I don’t think he knew. Barry’s a good man. He really is. He would have taken care of you even if he hid it from Sarah.”

  “Your turn. Finish telling me about the year after you lost your dad.”

  “I thought I would just help you out of these basketball shorts.”

  “I might let you do that…IF you finish telling me.”

  “No, that’s enough for one night. I still didn’t see you as a little girl.”

  “You’re stalling, and yes you did. I was the teeny-tiny baby.”

  “You’re still a teeny-tiny baby.”

  “Blake…”

  “I don’t want to talk about that anymore. It’s pointless. Let’s go to sleep. I have a long day tomorrow.”

  “Okay, be a hypocrite. I’m going to bed.”

  Blake’s tightened grip kept me from escaping. “You can’t say that and walk away. What does that mean? How am I a hypocrite?”

  “How many times have you talked about it? About what happened to Janie?”

  “None. Zero. Zilch. And I am just fine with that. I can tell Pea the stories as they come up. Isn’t that what this is all about? That’s what you said.”

  “And this is what you said…You’re not looking for a reason. I want you to face that reason. I want you to be able to lay it to rest and move on. You told me to stop thinking about it and look. That makes you a hypocrite.”

  “You can’t compare that with what I went through.”

  I raised up and turned to look at Blake with instant anger, “Why? Because you watching Janie die is different than me going through it with my mom? You had your mom, you still had Barry and Sarah; I had no one. I did it all by myself. Don’t you dare say your story is superior over mine. I hurt too, Blake.”

  “Losing the love of your life isn’t the same thing as losing your parent. I lost my dad too, remember? But you have no idea what it’s like to lose someone that you shared so much with.”

  Blake didn’t keep me from moving that time. I stood and looked down at him. It hurt. My chest felt heavy and tears waited for permission to fall. Janie was the love of his life and I was never going to hold a candle to her. “Yeah, you’re right. We don’t need to talk about that. Goodnight.”

  “Makayla.”

  “It’s fine, Blake. Let’s just go to bed.”

  “It’s not fine, I hurt your feelings and I am sorry. Come here, please.”

  “No, I’m fine. I’m tired. It’s been a long day.” The outside was holding up a hell of a lot better than the inside and the urge to feel an ink-pen between my fingers suddenly became strong.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Blake. I’m sure. It’s forgotten. Don’t worry about it.”

  I crawled in the tent and held tears at bay, waiting for Blake to turn off the lights and craw in himself. One slid across the bridge of my nose when he moved in behind me and kissed the back of my head. My breathing held steady and I breathed in and out deeply, forcing myself to relax. I needed to get this plan moving in the right direction. I couldn’t do this anymore.

  “I love you, Makayla.”

  I didn’t reply with words. I couldn’t speak without giving him the opportunity to know I was crying, or try like hell not to anyway. Instead of words, I snuggled into him more and showed him with my body. I hated all the emotions I was feeling. My mind wanted to think about my mom, and why she never told me that she was in love with Barry. My mind also wanted to think about why I felt so hurt and betrayed by Blake. Was it really because I would never be on the same pedestal as Janie? Or was that my way of pushing him a little further back? I waited until Blake’s breathing regulated and slid from his arms. I needed a pen.

  “Makayla,” he said in quiet, sad tone.

  I stopped; half in, half out. With a firm, but quiet tone, I quietly replied, “Don’t,” and continued on my way. Blake didn’t follow me and I had the strongest feeling that he too was doing his own pushing. I grabbed my purse and walked upstairs, away from Blake. Some people turned to drugs, others turned to alcohol; I turned to ink.

  Choosing Pea’s new room for the bench, I closed the door and turned the dim light over the window. Parting the curtains, I looked out to the neighborhood. It was the perfect house for a family and close to both grandparents. The swing set across the street informed me of other kids in the neighborhood. Pea needed friends to play with. That made me happy. I watched a young couple in a Jeep pull to the curb a couple houses down. He waited for her to wave at the door and pulled out. A heavy sigh filled my ears and a straight line went down my arm. The tip curled and I flared the feathers.

  The hidden messages my mother gave me throughout my life began to make sense and become clearer. She was crushed by Barry Holden. That’s why there was never anyone else. She wasn’t letting anyone get that close to her again. The words of wisdom rang through my head in her voice:

  “Only you can make you happy, Mikki, remember that.”

  “Don’t ever let a man make you cry. Never give them that power over you.”

  “Only you can make you sad.”

  “Whatever makes you feel sad, lonely, or angry, leave it
. Whatever makes you smile, keep it.”

  “You can always put yourself back together. You’re not Humpty Dumpty and there are no king’s men.”

  “Don’t waste time on people who only love you when the condition is right for them.”

  “If you’re only smiling on the outside, you’re not happy. Time to move on.”

  “Remember that being happy is a choice. If you’re not happy, you’re not doing it right.”

  “Happiness is an inside job. Don’t ever hand that power over to a man.”

  I knew with the movement of my pen that my mother had been planting a seed since the day I was born. She told me how much she loved my dad my entire life. She was shielding me from day number one; she didn’t want me to get hurt like that. My mother implanted the meaning of life in me and that’s why I survived. She’s the reason I was sitting here drawing a tiny little P on my wrist.

  “Janie was dating Ryan when I found out she was sick.”

  My pen stopped and my head jerked to the silhouette standing in the door. I didn’t say anything, I didn’t move. Blake walked toward me and sat in the window seat with me. Grabbing my ankles, he pulled me toward him until my legs were over his. He took my hand and turned my arm toward the light.

  “That’s fucking amazing. I mean, it looks just like Zelda and the cubs. Do it to me.”

  “What?” I asked, trying to hide my smile. God. Why did he have to be so right?

  “Put it on my arm. Right here. That too,” he said, pointing to the calligraphy words ‘I love Pea.’ That’s what I was working on when he interrupted; the tiny little pea I always put at the end of her name. “Do it. I have a story to tell you.”

  I looked into his eyes, wondering if I should or not. Blake wiggled his arm and kissed my lips and I started a straight, Zelda, backbone.

  ***

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this. Dad wouldn’t want this,” I yelled at my mother.

  “This is what he wanted, Blake. Your dad had it all set before he ever left us. He wanted us to go home to Tennessee.”

  “That’s not my home. I don’t even remember ever living there. I’m not going back there. I can’t believe you’re just going to sell the theater, everything he worked his entire life to build. You’re just going to sell for the money.”