Raising Rain

by Debbie Fuller Thomas

“Can we go to In-N-Out?” Scott asked as he buckled in beside Rain. “All the guys have been craving double-doubles for months. It was the food we talked about missing the most.”

  They got on the road and found the closest In-N-Out Burger, discovering that it was also the destination of other Marines and their families. Bebe had brought Scott a change of clothes because the only ones he had besides his uniforms were the jeans and T-shirt he’d worn to the recruiter’s office thirteen weeks before. She handed him his old backpack with a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt tucked inside. He changed in the restroom, and came out, glancing around self-consciously. She imagined that he felt odd since other Marines were still in their uniforms sitting with their families.

  It took them nine hours to drive back home. Scott talked through the first two hours and then fell asleep. Bebe stole glimpses of him over her shoulder. His head lay back against the seat and his mouth slacked, looking like the old Scotty, except leaner and with a tan line showing through his close-cropped hair delineating where his cover had protected his white scalp from the hot San Diego sun.

  Bebe felt a deep sense of well-being, with the four people she loved most in the car after an exhilarating two days. Just hearing the lilt and tenor of their voices and listening to topics of conversation she wouldn’t ordinarily be part of opened windows into their everyday lives. Dylan told Scott about friends and activities on campus that only a brother would appreciate, and Scott shared some of the stupid antics of his bunk mates that almost cost their platoon a night’s sleep or a phone call home. Rain teased him about changing his diapers when he was a baby, and asked him questions that Bebe hadn’t, such as what movies he wanted to catch up with, and whether he’d written to any girls while he was gone.

  Once at home, Bebe asked him what favorite meals he would like her to prepare, and she stocked the fridge and cupboards with things he’d missed. Scott and Dylan caught up with friends and played Rock Band late into the night. He replaced the license plate frame on his car with the one he’d bought on base and placed the shiny Marine Corps emblem with “Our son is a United States Marine” on the back of the Highlander.

  Driving around town with this symbol of support for the Marine Corps on her car was something new. She wondered what Bobby would say if he saw it. He would probably call her a hypocrite. Her family might, also. But she began to notice the stickers on cars everywhere all over town, and felt like they had entered a vast brotherhood of supporters.

  Her mom had everyone over for dinner on Sunday and it was Scott’s time to shine. Bebe brought photos of the graduation ceremony to share. Rain was invited, of course, but begged off, saying she had plans.

  Bobby stopped by briefly to eat and say hello to Scott. He certainly didn’t give Bebe the time of day. She felt relieved when her mother covered two slices of apple pie with plastic wrap for him to eat later at home, and he left. She heard Scott remind him about his graduation from the School of Infantry in December and encouraged him to come down.

  They returned home early after dinner because Dylan had to drive back to school that evening. Bebe wondered what Scott would do to keep busy without Dylan around until he had to return to SOI.

  He came by the clinic the next day to say hello to the staff. Everyone made over him. Georgeann offered to let him have his old job back of cleaning the kennels, but he said he was busy catching up on his sleep.

  Before they knew it, Scott was washing his clothes and repacking his gear. It amused her to see how serious he became with this process, double-checking again and again to make sure everything was complete.

  They drove him to the airport on Monday morning, feeling much more relaxed about this leave-taking. He’d packed his cell phone and charger, and promised to call when he got there and faithfully every weekend. They reminded him to keep in touch with Dylan, too. He packed his iPod and extra clothes for weekend liberty. He said he didn’t think he’d be able to come home for Thanksgiving, but unless he got sick and his training was pushed back, he should be home for Christmas. They kissed him good-bye at the curb in front of the Southwest terminal and watched him wave as he disappeared inside the building.

  Bebe breathed a sigh of bittersweet relief. They’d had a great time together as a family and his SOI training was only eight weeks long. They would be able to catch up with him by phone, especially on Thanksgiving, which would help her make it through that day more easily. It would be the first time in their lives that they hadn’t all been together for the holiday.

  Rain opened the door holding a bowl of Hershey’s Kisses and DumDums. Three miniature characters looked up at her, one peering from a tricked-out stroller.

  “Trick-or-treat!” they yelled in uneven cadence, producing their reflective sacks.

  “Oh, my,” she said. “Who do we have here?”

  “I’m fairy Barbie,” said a girl in a pink cloud of organza, pushing forward with her open bag. Her bitten fingernails glittered with frost and pink makeup flushed her face.

  “Me! Me! I’m Buzz Lightyear.” A small spaceman wiggled in beside her, knocking his soft helmet askew.

  The little one in the stroller kicked her feet and pushed her Dora mask up out of her eyes. She held out her bag with the other hand until Rain dropped candy into each bag. Dora reached in to inspect what Rain had given her.

  The mother prompted the children to say “thank you” and hurried everyone along as another group came up the walkway. Rain could see their fathers hanging back under the streetlights. One broke away from the group and continued to the next house with Dora, Buzz, and Barbie.

  A steady stream of children came for about an hour and a half, some with adults and some unsupervised. As it grew later, they grew older. At 8:30, Rain locked up, shut off the lights, and read by a book light in her bed. She heard knocks at the door until 9:30, even with the house looking dark and deserted. She hoped whoever it was wouldn’t get angry and resort to vandalism.

  She tried to gather Noah beside her, but he jumped off the bed. She’d heard some horror stories from the vet clinic about pets being left outside on Halloween and she had made him stay inside all day. His stump of a tail twitched angrily in protest, and she hoped that he wouldn’t retaliate with creative vandalism of his own.

  Rain loved to see the little children who came to her door, all dressed up and absorbed in make-believe, but Hayden had never liked Halloween. He felt that they should give out something other than candy, like stickers or erasers, so in case a child was poisoned, they wouldn’t be suspects. It had happened in a neighboring community when he was growing up, and every family where the child stopped was questioned mercilessly.

  She admitted it was a good idea, and she had complied, even though it was obvious that some of the trick-or-treaters thought they were getting gypped. This year, she felt free to give the children the treats they really wanted, and she delighted in seeing their eyes shine.

  One Halloween, she and Hayden had gone to a party dressed as Christine and the Phantom of the Opera. Hayden rented a tux and cape—woof. That was fun. They didn’t try to sing together that time. Opera doesn’t lend itself as easily to karaoke as Journey. But they made a great couple and they danced until she had blisters on her feet. It was one of the rare moments when he allowed himself to be lost in the moment. Perhaps the mask helped.

  She had a vision of him with a child, tossing him in the air, snuggling, playing peek-a-boo. Was that why he didn’t want a child? Was he afraid of being lost in the moment when he became a father?

  Bebe felt relieved when they received no emergency calls for the clinic on Halloween night. It was hard to deal with the aftermath of human cruelty. It usually left them with no choice but to euthanize the animal.

  She’d had to lock up Suzie and Jimbo while trick-or-treaters combed their neighborhood. It was the first time that neither one of the boys was there to help her answer the door and to keep the dogs quiet. At 9:00 she let the dogs back into the house from the garage, and let them bark thei
r heads off when someone had the nerve to ring the doorbell. Their racket never failed to discourage the teenagers who came out late.

  It was their Saturday to work, and Neil had left early to make his rounds at the farms and ranches. She spied some minor damage on storefronts from pranksters as she drove to the clinic. Luckily, their building faced a busy street and wasn’t an easy target, except for eggs and paintballs from drive-bys. It looked like they had been spared from a major cleanup this year.

  “Where’s Georgeann?” Bebe asked when she arrived at the office to find Michelle working the front counter.

  Michelle looked up from the paperwork she was completing. Bebe could tell in her face that she was gaining weight with her pregnancy, and that she was tired. “She called me in early. She’ll be in after she gets the TP out of her trees and replaces her front window.”

  “Yikes,” Bebe said, flipping through an invoice for medications and initialing the top copy. “Sounds like she got hit hard.” She looked up and greeted a client who was signing in. “Were they random targets?”

  “No. Her daughter has enemies at school. Or rivals for Homecoming Queen. Something like that.” Michelle stamped the chart and tossed it into Georgeann’s in-basket. She turned to the client. “Hello Mr. Baxter. How is Romeo today?”

  “Not so good,” Bebe heard him answer as she ducked into the hallway.

  Bebe checked in with Domino, a Dalmatian that had undergone emergency surgery for a stomach obstruction the day before. Domino raised his head when she greeted him and she reached into his Ecollar to stroke his head.

  “Good boy, Domino. You feel better without that chunk of Frisbee in your tummy?”

  Domino’s eyes rolled back in his head as she rubbed his ears. He laid his head back down and she gently examined the surgical site. It was healing nicely, and she asked one of the techs to change his dressing again.

  She opened Rascal’s kennel to check his stitches and found he was on schedule to be discharged. She asked Michelle to call his owner and to make a follow-up appointment. Bebe went to her office and sat down at her desk to check her e-mails. Neil came in from his rounds at the local farms, smelling ripe from the manure he’d been tromping through all morning.

  “Hey,” she said, scrunching her nose. “Did you change your shoes?”

  “They’re outside.” He showed her the clean pair of jeans and shirt he had rolled beneath his arm. “I pulled a calf at Lassen’s Dairy this morning. And I told him they need to assign someone to the calving pen. They’re losing too many.”

  He slipped into the staff restroom and moments later emerged with his soiled clothes tied off in a plastic bag, which he slipped beneath his desk. Almond-scented soap now masked the faint odor of manure. “Remind me to take this home, will you?”

  “You’d be better off tossing it in the trunk of the car,” she said. “I have a hard time remembering my own stuff.”

  Bebe’s day ended right after lunch, and the house phone was ringing when she unlocked the front door. Toni gushed on the other end about the fabulous shopping and the horrible gridlock in New York. When she finally wound down Bebe asked her about the place in Monterey where they would have the Celebration.

  “Lawrence and I checked it out when we got back. It’s a gorgeous house just outside of Carmel overlooking the ocean with private access to the beach. Marshall said there are linens and towels, and the kitchen is fully stocked, except for perishables, of course. He offered to have his cleaning service come to the house on Monday after we’ve left so we don’t even have to strip the beds or do the dishes, if we really don’t want to. There are three fireplaces, and a patio with a jacuzzi.”

  “Is it convenient? It’s not too far out, is it?” Bebe asked.

  “It’s outside of town, but it’s only a short drive to Carmel, and Monterey’s only a mile or so farther. But it’s private, just in case, you know . . . things get ugly.”

  “Toni, things are not going to get ugly.”

  “Bebe, how do you think Jude’s going to react when we refuse to organize a war protest or petition to legalize pot or burn our Victoria’s Secret bras? Any way you look at it, things could get dicey.”

  Bebe was silent for a moment. “I don’t think that’s what she has in mind. But we’ve got to be armed with some good ideas she’ll be satisfied with that won’t get us fired or ruin our reputations.”

  “Jude would consider either of those outcomes a success.”

  Bebe ignored her sarcasm. “For Rain’s sake, we need to do this Celebration right.”

  “Okay, I get it,” Toni said. “I think it’s interesting, though. They’ve never been particularly close before.”

  “I think they might be making up for lost time. Rain’s been going over on Saturdays to help William out.”

  “Poor William can use all the help he can get. I don’t know how the man stood by her for so long.”

  “Maybe he loves her.”

  “What’s to love? She belittles him in front of others and doesn’t seem to appreciate anything he tries to do for her. She knows he’s OCD and she purposely drives him crazy by keeping her stuff a mess. And besides, she’s vindictive enough to cut him out of her will.”

  Bebe frowned. “Yes, that bothers me. He did mention that to Rain.”

  “I’m not surprised. She could do it, too.”

  “I know.”

  Toni hung up, promising to be more available. Bebe called Mare next, and asked how her textile show went.

  “It was such a success, Bebe. I wish I had gotten back into it sooner. I don’t really know what stopped me. Arnie, I guess. He was so needy and demanding, until I caught him with that nude model from his figure drawing class. Now he knows better than to cross me.” Her voice dropped a little. “Sometimes I think God is giving me a taste of my own medicine.” There was the sound of shifting the phone to her other ear. “Anyway, I handed out a ton of business cards and brochures, and I generated a lot of interest in my designs. I actually found a great nail polish that’s water-based and nontoxic. Did you realize that traditional nail polishes have formaldehyde? All those toxins are absorbed directly into your skin.”

  “I never seem to have time for any of that,” Bebe said.

  “I know you go natural, but Toni should know about it. Maybe I’ll bring a few sample colors to the Celebration.”

  “Please don’t antagonize her, Mare. It will only make for a long weekend.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be good. You should have seen the eco haute couture that Freda Jiff made from recyclables. They were incredible. And the natural dyes that are coming out are just beautiful. Most people don’t realize that the dyes in their clothes contain dioxin, formaldehyde, and carcinogens. And poor little kids and babies absorb those toxic chemicals right into the bloodstream because their little bodies run so hot and their pores are open. I found a line of organic children’s and infants’ clothing that’s safe to wear.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind if I ever have a baby to buy for. Have you had a chance to work on your menu, by the way?”

  “Yes, and I’ve meant to ask whether we’ll have access to a grill at the house.”

  “There probably is, but the weather might not cooperate. You’d have to call Toni to be sure. What did you have in mind?”

  “Fish. Tilapia or freshwater salmon. We can always bake it, if there’s no grill. It will be so healthy for Jude, full of omega-3 fatty acids, and very low in mercury.”

  “I would check with her first. I imagine that certain odors might be difficult for her to handle with her treatments.”

  “Yes, I guess you’re right. I just thought fish might appeal to everyone.”

  “I thought you were vegan.”

  “I am, mostly. It’s hard to travel and remain strictly vegan.” Then she added, with all sincerity, “But it’s always humanely raised, and I never eat red meat.”

  “Of course not.” Bebe filled her in about the house and said she was planning for them to
make some forays to Cannery Row and perhaps to Point Lobos, if she felt it would be accessible for Jude. “We’ll have to play it by ear. A lot can happen in a month.”

  “Yes, poor thing. Well, I need to do some shopping. Arnie filled up on fast food while I was gone and he needs to detox.”

  They said good-bye, and Bebe put a roast in the slow cooker and added a few onions before getting back to investigating activities for the Celebration. She was worried about getting everyone together for an entire weekend with empty stretches of time and nothing to do.

  She checked into the Monterey Aquarium and decided that it would involve a lot of walking and standing, and they could go only if Jude agreed to use a wheelchair. Point Lobos State Reserve would be a beautiful distraction. She checked online and found that Sea Lion Point Trail was visible from the parking lot and wheelchair accessible, so Jude should be able to navigate it without being too worn out to enjoy the beauty once she got there. It was thirty minutes round trip, and they could take lawn chairs if there weren’t benches available.

  The website photos stirred Bebe’s desire to return to Point Lobos. It was at this dramatic, virile coastline where they took the boys when they were very young, that she had felt an overwhelming sense of peace and a tugging of her heart back toward the God of her childhood. No, not the God of her childhood—the God who knew the woman she had become. The God who could help her make sense of her life and confront the fallout of her choices.

  It would be wonderful if Jude could gain some sense of peace at the end of her life, make some connection with her Creator to help her cope. Bebe could just imagine what that conversation would be like, and although she knew God could handle it, she wouldn’t want to be in Jude’s shoes.

  January 12, 1971

  “Where have you been?” Bebe demanded over Rain’s angry cries as Jude came in, chilling the house with a blast of cold air. Rain had turned a bright shade of red from crying and her tiny hands were clenched into fists. “She’s been screaming for an hour,” Bebe shouted, bouncing the infant in an attempt to quiet her. “We’re completely out of formula.”