Raising Rain

by Debbie Fuller Thomas

  She tried to connect with Lisa to catch a movie in the afternoon, but it was her mother-in-law’s birthday and they had to drive to Gilroy. Her friend Sarah offered to bring her along while she shopped for wallpaper for the baby’s nursery, but she begged off.

  Rain showered and dressed and went to Whole Foods for some groceries. She found it challenging to plan meals for one person. She tossed a large bag of frozen prawns into the cart (Hayden hated the smell) and planned to have them twice in the same week. She bought Heirloom tomatoes for a tomato and mayonnaise sandwich on white bread, like Bebe’s mom would make, and which Hayden would have frowned on. She threw in a container of pesto and whipping cream for pasta and a tub of Dreyer’s Girl Scouts Thin Mint ice cream. Hayden was lactose intolerant. And because he bordered precariously on vegetarian, she bought bacon for BLTs, and a juicy, organically raised rib-eye steak with garlic butter.

  She bagged up a big orange sweet potato and picked up miniature marshmallows to melt on top. She bought an aromatic plug-in scented with mango, which most certainly would have set off his allergies, and another one in vanilla for the bathroom. She found a bar of heavenly lavender soap. She even tossed in a catnip mouse for Noah. Last, she cruised the flower aisle for a small bouquet of yellow roses and baby’s breath. Then she headed to the cashier, admiring all her purchases as a sort of rebellion.

  The total rang up to a little more than she’d expected to pay, but she’d made her point and there was no going back. She’d never realized how much of herself she’d changed for Hayden.

  The boys went to church on Sunday with Bebe and Neil since Scott was leaving that afternoon. They went out to lunch together afterward and let Scott choose the restaurant.

  He chose Ruby’s Roadhouse where he filled up on ribs, curly fries, and cornbread, and even ordered cheesecake for dessert, like it was his last meal. He asked whether they would be able to come to the swearingin ceremony the next morning, but they said it was a full day at the clinic and Neil had a surgery scheduled.

  He spent the afternoon playing Rock Band with his brother, and all the while Bebe sensed that the time to say important things was slipping away. Thirteen weeks was a long time and a lot of change could happen. He wouldn’t be the same Scott when he returned, and she was reluctant to give him up.

  Scott made small talk with Dylan in the backseat on the way to the recruiting office that afternoon, and he seemed nervous when they finally arrived. He recorded an away message on his phone, telling callers that he’d be back in October. Then he shut it down and handed it over to Bebe along with his wallet.

  He blew out a big breath of air. “I guess that’s it.”

  They got out and walked up to the storefront office where they met the recruiter, who went over some brief instructions with Scott. Bebe could tell the recruiter was also sizing up Dylan and she didn’t like it. Dylan wasn’t the military type. The recruiter finally let them know it was time to go. He gave them some privacy, but she noticed that he kept his eye on them. He’d probably seen some pretty emotional farewells and she wondered if he would try to intervene if things began to escalate, or if they tried to talk Scotty out of it at the last minute.

  They each hugged him. Bebe kept her voice as level as she could and looked him in the eye to make the most of their last few moments. “Listen,” she said quietly between them, struggling not to cry, “you remember who you are. You need to find good friends and stick with them. You need to ask God for help every single day. We’ll be praying for you all the time—every day. We know you’re going to be all right.” She pulled out a small Bible from her purse and gave it to him. “There’s a letter inside for you to read on the plane.” He nodded, and she felt her face crumble as she kissed him good-bye. Neil and Dylan said their good-byes, and as they left for the car, she looked back at Scott for one last glimpse.

  The evening was long and hollow, and it was impossible to think of anything other than him—whether he was nervous or homesick or worried, or whether he’d already read the letter in the Bible she’d given him.

  The next morning, Neil got to the clinic early. Soon after, he called Bebe to say that he’d found that his morning surgery had been rescheduled. He’d moved their appointments until later in the day so that they’d have time to go to surprise Scott at his swearing-in ceremony. Bebe felt elated. He swung by the house to pick her up, but Dylan couldn’t get time off from work. Bebe felt a surge of gratefulness that she’d be able to see Scotty one more time before he left.

  They checked in at MEPS, the Military Entrance Processing Station, and waited in the lobby with other parents whose young men and women were being sworn in for every branch of the service. They watched every face that appeared, hungry for some sign of him. The officers gave the recruits simple instructions that involved walking on the line leading from one location to the next, and more than one young man found out that they meant this basic command literally, and had to sheepishly retrace his steps. Finally, Scotty’s unit was called and their spirits rose as they saw him go past. They were soon ushered into a formal room with flags and plaques on the walls for every branch of service and a small stage. The parents lined up around the walls and waited. The doors opened and he entered with other young men in civilian clothes. They caught his eye and his face lit up briefly before resuming his stoic demeanor.

  Bebe’s heart swelled with conflicting emotions when he raised his hand and pledged to serve his country. The future was such an unknown. So many things in the world were tenuous. But at this point in time, he was safe and happy and so, so proud. She fought the tears that threatened to spill over, and saw that Neil was dabbing at his eyes, too. After the swearing in, they were able to hug Scott and tell him how proud they were, pushing aside their fears for the future, which she would not allow to ruin the moment. They were able to spend five minutes with him in the lobby seating area. Before they said their goodbyes, he told them that he’d already seen a lot of idiots who couldn’t follow basic instructions and others who weren’t as prepared physically as he was, and assured them that he would be all right. He seemed so much more confident and relaxed than he had the night before, and it put Bebe’s heart at ease.

  She missed Scotty all day, wondering where he was at that moment and whether he felt any regrets. He might be exhausted and even homesick and wonder what he’d gotten himself into, especially in the first week or so, but she knew he was as ready as a young man could possibly be for the rigors of boot camp—even the longest and most grueling boot camp of any branch of the military. It would feel like an eternity before they received a letter from him. He’d said that they got one phone call when they arrived, and Bebe and Neil kept their cell phones with them, fully charged, the whole day. She tried to keep the line free, inadvertently hurting her mother’s feelings when she asked her to call the house phone instead, but she would not miss an opportunity to talk to Scott.

  They waited all evening, but no call came. Was something wrong, she wondered? She checked the news, but there were no plane crashes reported. She sat down and wrote him a letter, even though she didn’t yet have an address where he could receive mail. By the next morning, Bebe knew that, for whatever reason, Scott hadn’t been given the opportunity to call. But she knew from experience with her brother that the military did their own thing and didn’t need to give explanations. She was only his parent. Scotty now belonged to the U.S. government.

  She had to resist the urge to read stories about the war and the editorials that appeared in the newspaper and online. She just wasn’t ready to handle that, and it did no good to brood. She remembered how her mother had watched the news reports about Vietnam on television when Bobby left, and how she would shush them all harshly, and wipe her eyes and retire to her bedroom. Bebe had been at school when Bobby left. She didn’t even get to tell him good-bye.

  Rain got a call on Tuesday morning that Dr. Lazenby had an opening if she wanted to move up her appointment. She rearranged her work schedule and took ext
ra time at lunch. As she sat in the waiting area of the doctor’s office, she wished she had taken time to shave her legs that morning. It was something she had become lax about since Hayden left, and she considered even explaining to the doctor by way of an apology.

  She watched an extremely pregnant woman try to get comfortable in a narrow armchair, twisting this way and that. Her partner read a brochure on menopause, glancing up now and then to ask if she was okay. The woman tried pacing, stopping to take breaths, with her hands on her lower back and her feet spread like the base of a trophy. The receptionist called for them, and as they disappeared behind the office door, told Rain it would only be a few more minutes.

  Rain picked up a brochure about in vitro fertilization and pregnancy. Cutaway diagrams explained the procedures in more detail than necessary, stripping away the warmth and wonder involved in bringing life into the world. Rain closed the brochure and supplied her own desired results. She couldn’t wait to hold her baby in her arms.

  The receptionist appeared and held open the door. The pregnant couple came back, and this time the man was supporting the woman as he hurried her out the door. The receptionist turned to Rain and said that her appointment would have to be postponed. Dr. Lazenby was on her way to the hospital.

  Rain wondered who would hurry her to the hospital when her time came.

  Rain got a call from William that evening asking her if she could take Jude in for her treatment. The doctor was trying an experimental drug in an attempt to improve her quality of life. He had an unavoidable business trip on the following Thursday, and Rain would need to stay until he could make it back from the airport that afternoon. Rain said she would, and asked if her mom had agreed to it. He responded that, for once, it was out of Jude’s control.

  Rain arranged to take the day off and drove over to the Bay Area in the wee hours on Thursday morning to avoid traffic on the bridge. Her mother was dressed and waiting, and said it really hadn’t been necessary for her to interrupt her day.

  Rain drove her to the oncologist’s and waited in the seating area while her mother checked in at the desk. People at different stages of illness shuffled through, some sitting with family members and others waiting alone. Some wore scarves and looked extremely tired, and one man had an oxygen tank. Jude sat poised with her chin lifted, keeping her gaze on a magazine, and flipping pages occasionally. Her attention settled on an advertisement for a new diabetes drug, even though diabetes wasn’t an issue for her.

  The nurse called Jude back for her treatment, and Rain was surprised when it didn’t take long. Jude said that it was due to the fact that she’d had a catheter embedded in her chest after her veins collapsed. Rain suppressed a shiver as they left the office. Jude moved slowly and deliberately, speaking of other things as though her appointment was just one of many errands she had to run that day.

  Rain could tell that her mother was worn out, and over her protests, she supported Jude’s elbow as she made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. The bedroom was in her signature disarray, and smelled stale and medicinal.

  She offered to make Jude some lunch, and after an initial squeamish look, her mother asked her for Jello from the refrigerator.

  Rain headed down to the kitchen, remembering back to the luncheon when Jude had driven herself. She must have been on the point of exhaustion when she returned that day. Rain felt mildly irritated with William for not insisting on driving her.

  Rain opened the immaculately clean refrigerator and took out the container of Jello. She scooped the wobbling mass of orange Jello into a bowl and wiped down the sides before returning the container to the refrigerator shelf. She set it on a tray along with a glass of ice water and climbed back up the stairs.

  “Since when do you eat Jello, Mom?” she asked.

  “It’s basically flavored sugar water. At this point, I need all the fluids I can get.” Jude labored to sit up and prop herself against the headboard. Rain arranged the pillows behind her for support and set the tray across her mother’s lap.

  Rain stood gazing out the window at the busy street below while Jude ate her Jello. A messenger went by on a bike and was almost clipped by a van turning right. The day was gloomy with drifting fog and a chilly 60 degrees. What a difference from the 100 degree heat that simmered Sacramento the day before.

  Rain turned at the clatter of Jude’s spoon in her empty bowl. She removed the tray and left the water on the nightstand with the TV remote. “Is there anything else you need?”

  Jude hesitated. She gave Rain a brief sidelong glance and said, “Well, actually, I need a new patch.” Jude directed Rain to where she kept her medicines. The bathroom counter looked like a pharmacy, filled with prescription bottles, suppositories, and other supplies. Rain tried to look nonchalant when she came back in with a new patch. She peeled off the spent patch, curled the edges back until they stuck together as Jude directed, and flushed it. Then she applied the new one onto Jude’s stomach and washed her hands. Her mother visibly relaxed as the medication began to kick in.

  “So, what’s going on between you and Hayden?” she asked, leaning back into her pillows.

  “Nothing.” Rain picked up the tray. “We grew apart. Normal stuff.”

  “Fine, keep your secrets,” Jude said, closing her eyes. “I can always pump Bebe for information.”

  “Do you want anything else?”

  Jude draped her arm across her eyes. “Just close the mini-blinds, if you don’t mind. Really, you can go, if you have things to do. I’ll be fine.”

  Rain moved to the window to shut the blinds. “I’ll be here until William gets home.”

  “If he comes home, you mean. He’s probably not in Chicago at all. He’s probably down the coast with that Valerie woman from Marketing.”

  “You’re just babbling.”

  “You don’t know.”

  Rain started to leave, but Jude said without opening her eyes, “You don’t need him, you know.”

  It took a moment for Rain to realize that she didn’t mean William—she meant Hayden. Rain paused at the door and studied her mom. She looked frail and drawn with her arm draped over her eyes and her hair splayed against the pillow. Smaller than Rain remembered. How could her mother possibly know what she needed? Jude didn’t even realize that she needed William.

  “Call if you need me,” Rain said, pulling the door almost shut.

  Once downstairs, she put on some soft classical music and picked up a magazine. She realized that the architectural magazine was chosen for its appearance, because it obviously hadn’t been read. The room was tastefully minimalistic and immaculate, but at the same time, inviting. William’s influence, of course. He couldn’t tolerate messes and clutter. Even his name was tidy. He was never a slovenly “Will” or “Billy.” With his borderline obsessive-compulsive disorder, it was a wonder he could even tolerate Jude—the biggest mess and clutter of all.

  When Jude entered a room, she claimed it with her belongings. Her room always looked as though she were in the midst of packing and could take off at any moment. Perhaps that’s the way she wanted it. Noncommitment. Her clutter also clearly stated that she was no domestic goddess, and it handily drove William crazy.

  Rain went into the office and sat down at her mom’s computer. She checked her e-mail and found a message from her friend Lisa, asking if she wanted a ticket to see John Mayer in concert, but she declined. She couldn’t afford it, even though she was tired of spending evenings at home alone. She answered back, suggesting a movie on the weekend.

  She almost checked the assisted reproduction site, but realized that her mother could easily check the history and the secret would be out. She wouldn’t risk that.

  Rain had a devilish idea. She listened for noise from upstairs, and, hearing none, checked the computer’s history and found something very interesting. An alumni site for San Angelo State University had multiple log-ins over the last few months. That was her mother’s alma mater. Was her mother looking for somethin
g—or someone? She navigated to the site, but could go no further without a password.

  She closed it out and ruminated as she went in search of food. With the exception of a coffee she’d grabbed when gassing up at Dixon, she hadn’t eaten since she left home at four a.m. Rain opened the fridge again and marveled at it. Maybe she could get William to stop by and clean hers. The bottles and containers were lined up and sorted by size, and all the caps were clean. The glass shelves gleamed. She spooned some yogurt into a bowl, wiped the lid, and replaced it in the same spot, label facing out.

  She dozed on the sofa until William returned. He said hello, placed a take-out container of sushi on the counter, and took his overnight bag to his room. He came out and gave her a hug, looking her in the eye. “How are you, Rainy day girl? I brought you sushi.” He lowered his voice and nodded up toward Jude’s bedroom. “Did she give you any trouble?”

  “No, she was good,” Rain answered, getting out two square plates from the cabinet. “She tried to get me to leave, but I kept my post.”

  “Good for you.” He went over to the staircase, tilted his ear up to listen, and returned to the kitchen. “Sounds like she’s sleeping. Was she in a lot of pain?”

  “She was grumpy, but I changed her patch.” Rain suddenly looked up at him. “That was all right, wasn’t it? She’s not getting dependent or confused about her medications, is she?”

  “No, she’s as lucid as ever,” he said, getting out black lacquered chopsticks from the drawer. “Maybe more so, if that’s possible. I think the pain might be giving her an added edge.”

  He opened the refrigerator, took out a bottle of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale and held it up questioningly to Rain, but she shook her head. “I can heat up some sake, if you prefer.”