Raising Rain

by Debbie Fuller Thomas

  Mare covered her face with a throw pillow like she was trying to suffocate herself. Toni stretched out on her end of the sofa and crossed her arms over her eyes. “I’ll think about it tomorrow,” she said with a southern drawl. Mare tossed the pillow at her, and she threw it back.

  “We have to have some ideas of our own,” Bebe insisted.

  After a long moment of silence, Toni asked, “Okay, so what’s the worst that can happen? If we can’t agree on something that we’re all willing to do that doesn’t cause our families to disown us or career suicide, Jude takes her marbles and goes home.”

  Mare huffed. “Very constructive, Toni.”

  “She’s right, to some extent,” Bebe said. They both looked at her in surprise. “Jude will go home angry and hurt and feel alienated, and probably die alone with only Rain and possibly William at her side. Probably William. But our relationship with Rain will be hurt beyond repair, and I’m just not willing to go there.”

  Toni leaned up on one elbow. “But Rain is smart, Bebe. She knows we can’t take those risks this late in life.”

  “I agree. And she’s probably thinking about her own career and how much she’s willing to risk, herself. But the bottom line is that this is her mother’s choice in lieu of a funeral. If we disrespect this, we leave Rain to do it alone.”

  Mare hugged the pillow to her chest. “She would do it, too.”

  “Yes, she would.” Bebe chewed her bottom lip. Then, she added, lowering her voice, “You know, Jude’s not all bad.”

  Toni’s voice came from a dream state. “In what way? You mean in the way that the Chicago Seven weren’t all bad?”

  Bebe ignored her comment. “She had her issues in college, but we had some fun times, too.”

  “Such as?”

  Silence descended while they each tried to think of something.

  “Oh, I know,” Mare said. “That time Jude got us free tickets to see Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young at the Fillmore. That was fun.”

  Toni twisted to relieve the tension in her shoulders. “Right. I wonder how the first half of the concert went.”

  “So, I didn’t know my way around San Francisco. It’s not my fault I was the only one of us who could drive a stick,” Mare said.

  Bebe smiled, remembering that night, which was only funny now, years later. “She shouted directions at you the whole way and you kept popping the clutch on those steep hills.”

  Mare said, “You know, I almost parked it in the street and walked away.”

  “Too bad we didn’t have GPS back then,” Toni said.

  Then a pleasant memory came to Bebe. “When we first moved in and it was just the four of us, we ate frozen pizza and watched old movies on that fuzzy black-and-white TV that Jude scrounged from somewhere.”

  Mare said, “That was before Jude got involved with that radical student group.”

  “Okay, that counts,” Toni said. She sat up in a lotus position. “I remember the old Victorian. It had such a wonderful, creepy-cozy feeling to it.”

  “Creepy-cozy? Okay,” Mare agreed. “It was creepy because the plumbing was ancient and the toilet kept overflowing.”

  “And we had to take turns plugging in our electric curlers or a fuse would blow.”

  “That was you and Bebe,” Mare said. “I went for a less structured look.

  “So that’s what they called it?” Toni chuckled. “Less structured.”

  Mare playfully stuck out her tongue at Toni, who replied in kind.

  Bebe suddenly felt a rush of memories. “I remember when Rain took her first step.”

  Mare smiled. “She walked straight to you.”

  “As I recall, it didn’t make Jude very happy,” Toni added. “And Rain called you Momma. That didn’t sit well with her, either.”

  “She called us all Momma until she could keep us straight,” Bebe reminded her.

  Bebe smiled to herself. She could almost feel Rain’s soft little body clinging to her, with her pudgy arms around her neck and a sticky cheek pressed against hers. The mixture of baby powder and Ivory Snow became Bebe’s signature scent.

  And now it looked as if Rain might never know that feeling for herself. Bebe felt an overwhelming sadness for this young woman and wondered whether they had all done her an injustice.

  Bebe woke up to a darkened room and checked her watch. It was only five o’clock—just two hours since Mare and Toni had fallen asleep in the family room watching Out of Africa and Bebe had had the good sense to climb into her own bed.

  She washed her face and came out to the kitchen where Mare was in the midst of dinner preparations. A delicious-smelling pot of broth bubbled on the stove.

  “Mind peeling these?” Mare asked, handing her a vegetable peeler and three large potatoes. “Vegetable soup is on the menu for tonight.”

  Bebe washed the potatoes and started peeling the skins into the garbage disposal. Toni waltzed into the kitchen from the family room where the movie still played.

  “That movie isn’t over yet?” Bebe asked.

  “No, it’s a long one,” Toni said. “I just love to listen to the soundtrack. It’s so inspiring.”

  Toni sat down on a stool at the counter and Mare handed her two large yellow onions and a cutting board. “Here, get inspired with this,” she said.

  Toni grunted at the onions in response. Bebe waved a potato at her. “You snooze, you lose, my friend.”

  Toni’s eye makeup was running by the time she had the onion sliced up. She scraped the onion into the pot of soup with the knife and rinsed off the cutting board. She wandered back toward her bedroom.

  Rain came out moments later, yawning. She went to a dark window in the sunroom and looked out at the storm. “It’s really coming down hard. If we weren’t so high up, I’d be worried,” she said, coming back to the counter.

  “It would take a tsunami to reach us up here,” Mare said, handing her a zucchini, a cutting board, and a knife. “Chunks, please, not slices.”

  Rain got to work cutting the zucchini, making each chunk exactly the same size. When Bebe was finished peeling and cutting up the potatoes, Mare handed her three large carrots.

  “Where did Toni skip off to?” Bebe asked. A second later, Toni returned with her makeup freshened.

  “For crying out loud, Toni. It’s just us,” Mare said. “We’ve seen your naked face before.”

  Toni refused to answer, but sat down at the counter and Mare handed her a loaf of bread to spread with butter.

  “This isn’t soy butter is it?” Toni asked, checking the label.

  Mare answered curtly, “You wouldn’t be able to tell the difference if it was.”

  They continued bickering until the soup was ready as though they’d awakened on the wrong side of the couch. Bebe set out the dishes buffet style and Rain went to wake Jude. Mare ladled out bowls of rich soup with tender-crisp veggies and filled a lined basket with slices of soft, buttered sourdough.

  The mood was somber around the table, with the four cooks bending their concentration toward the hot soup. Jude was the only one who seemed energized, as though she anticipated the coming evening.

  Jude and Rain retired to the family room when they were finished. Bebe, Mare, and Toni took great care in cleaning up after dinner until every plate and utensil rested neatly in its assigned place and every surface sparkled. Finally, they shared a brief look of silent solidarity, and joined the others in the family room.

  Jude sat in the recliner like an aging queen at the end of her reign.

  “So here we are again. Next August marks forty years since we moved in together on 37th Street, and unfortunately, I won’t be around to share it with you.”

  A small movement made Bebe glance over at Toni. She had folded her arms across her chest with a bored look on her face. Bebe hoped Toni would keep a lid on her sarcasm.

  “So we’ll just have to pretend that it’s August and plan something significant that you all can carry on when I’m gone. I’ve brought some
suggestions, but let’s hear some of yours first.”

  An awkward silence descended on them. Finally, Jude said, “Well, come on. This was homework.”

  Rain looked up at Bebe, silently urging her to speak. Bebe could only come up with the one idea that was close to her heart.

  “What about setting up a pet rescue foundation for natural disaster areas to help people find their displaced pets? We could go in and set up a temporary command base where people can drop off stray pets, and maybe even join rescue crews to search for them.”

  Silence followed, leaving Bebe feeling exposed.

  Finally, Mare stirred. “I’m allergic to cats.”

  Toni added, “I can’t wear that fluorescent safety-green color.”

  “Okay, then,” Bebe said, gesturing with her open hand, “it’s your turn.”

  After more silence, Jude began, “Well, if—”

  “I know,” Mare jumped in. “What if we started a line of ecofriendly baby blankets and distributed them to homeless shelters? We could put together a website for monetary donations, and maybe post photos of some of the mothers and their babies who receive blankets.”

  Bebe glanced at Rain who had turned her head away from Mare.

  Toni asked, “Start a line, as in, sew?”

  “Sure. We could pull some money together for a couple of quilting sewing machines. If you didn’t want to sew, you could work on distribution.”

  Toni yawned and covered her mouth with the back of her hand.

  A stony silence met Mare’s suggestion, and Bebe began to get worried that they’d run out of ideas, until Toni said, “What if we raised money to provide books for women in poor or rural communities? I’ve read that publishers and authors will sometimes donate books for publicity. Maybe we could eventually provide a traveling library.”

  Jude warmed to the idea. “Hmm. Enlightened books to rattle submissive cages.”

  “Fiction,” Toni clarified. “Not feminist literature.”

  Jude thought for a moment and shook her head. “Fiction is frivolous. We should provide education, not entertainment.”

  Rain said, “What about providing laptops for inner-city kids? My company has a foundation that we could plug into. They always need help with fund-raising and distribution.”

  “That’s a good idea, Rain,” Mare said. “A lot of schools today can’t even afford books and pencils.”

  “I like it,” Bebe said.

  “I like Rain’s idea of plugging into an existing group rather than reinventing the wheel. Like breast cancer awareness, for example,” Toni suggested.

  “That’s been over-done,” Jude said.

  “How can it be over-done?” Mare asked, exasperated. “It’s not overdone until there’s a cure.”

  “You know what I mean. Pink is everywhere. There are groups doing a satisfactory job already.” Jude shifted in her seat and said, impatiently, “Can we think about the bigger picture? We need something with a big impact on society. Something to really shake people up.”

  It was clear to Bebe that Jude had obviously made up her mind before they started, and wasn’t honestly considering any of their suggestions. Bebe felt anger gathering inside her like a squall. “I don’t know of any ROTC buildings nearby that we could bomb, if that’s what you have in mind.”

  Mare and Toni turned wide eyes to her.

  “Too bad, isn’t it?” Jude said. “Perhaps you could suggest a better target.”

  Jude and Bebe locked gazes for a moment.

  Rain frowned, obviously puzzled. “What’s going on?”

  Jude answered, “Bebe’s just reminiscing about the good old days.”

  “I had no part in it,” Bebe said, folding her arms and settling farther into the cushions.

  “You were an accessory after the fact, my dear. The perfect alibi.”

  Silence filled the room, but the storm was heard raging outside like a dissonant soundtrack.

  Rain looked from Bebe to Jude. “Are you saying you bombed the ROTC building and Bebe was your alibi?”

  Sadness and a suffocating fear began to grip Bebe. “Not by my choice.”

  Rain looked shocked. “What do you mean, not by your choice? Everybody has a choice.”

  Bebe licked her lips. Her mouth felt like cotton. Just as she began to speak, Jude broke in.

  “After the bombing, the police came to the house to question me. Bebe lied and said that I was there all day because she was afraid they would take you away and put you in foster care.”

  Rain looked to Bebe for confirmation, but Bebe dropped her eyes.

  “Oh don’t look so surprised,” Jude said. “It just took a little nudge to push Bebe into the dark side. She became quite the little radical after that. I lost my babysitter when she started joining protests, and I had to take you along in a backpack. But it was gratifying to see her break out of that shell, and to have had something to do with her metamorphosis.”

  “Don’t take so much credit, Jude. Everybody was protesting after Kent State,” Bebe said. “And I only broke the law that one . . . time.”

  “But you were the lucky one whose photo was sent along on the AP wire.”

  “Was anybody hurt in the bombing?” Rain asked.

  “No, the building was empty at the time,” Jude answered, with a tinge of regret.

  An uncomfortable silence filled the room again, and Jude demanded, “Mare, shouldn’t you be taking notes?”

  Mare looked indignant. “If anyone should be taking notes, it’s Toni.” Toni shot her a look of warning.

  Jude sighed. Bebe noticed that she was appearing to tire. “All right. Let’s stay on track, shall we? We still need to come up with an idea, and since you have come up empty, it’s my turn.”

  Bebe glanced discreetly at Rain, but she sat chewing her bottom lip, deep in thought.

  Jude sat up higher.

  “We could spread the word regarding stem cell research with donated embryos.”

  Mare shook her head. “The Church is very much against embryonic stem cell research.”

  “I have a problem with it, too,” said Bebe.

  “I’m out,” Rain said, looking stormy.

  “Very well,” Jude said, folding her hands in front of her.

  “Oh!” Mare said. “We could organize a watch group to protect kids against tobacco ads.” She waved her hand dismissively at Jude. “I know, it’s been done. But the truth is that the tobacco companies spend their advertising money on new smokers—the younger the better—because they know they have a customer for life.”

  Bebe and Rain murmured their agreement, but Toni raised her hand.

  “As much as I’d love to keep youngsters smokefree, particularly in light of how long it took me to quit, I can’t participate. It presents a conflict of interest with a little side job I’ve had over the years.”

  Bebe said, “Don’t be so mysterious, Toni. What are you talking about?”

  The confusion on Mare’s face dissolved into understanding. “Oh, I think I see.”

  Jude grew impatient. “Someone enlighten me.”

  Toni looked at each one in turn.

  “For heaven’s sake, Toni, just show them,” Mare said.

  Toni went over to the bookcase behind the couch and pulled out a book on the shelf about halfway up to the ceiling. Then she tossed it onto the coffee table between them.

  “It’s mine. I started writing romances to supplement my income from the university about ten years ago. Of course, I had to write under a pen name. Rachelle DuPree,” she said, with a dreamy smile. “I’m pretty good at it, too, if I do say so myself.”

  Bebe picked it up and flipped it to the backside. Toni’s likeness was altered by a pair of glasses and a very different hairstyle. “You knew about this, Mare?”

  “Well, it so happens that I sometimes pick up a romance for light reading—”

  Jude groaned.

  “And I got a used copy of it at a bookstore.” She glanced over at Toni. “The a
uthor was the spitting image of Toni, and when I showed it to her she denied it, but I could tell she was lying.”

  Bebe handed the book to Rain, who said, “I still don’t see the connection with smoking.”

  “Look at the publisher. They’re owned by a company who also has lots and lots of women’s magazines that sell tons of cigarette ads. They practically sleep with the tobacco companies.”

  Rain handed the book to Jude, who handled it like it was toxic.

  “I could get you a bio suit, if you’d feel better about it,” Toni told Jude.

  Jude examined it, raised her eyebrows, and tossed it back onto the table, dusting her hands. “How can you waste time writing this drivel?” Jude asked.

  “That drivel paid for my Lexus. Be nice, or you’ll end up as one of my characters.”

  Jude narrowed her eyes. “How do I know you haven’t already done that?”

  “You don’t. Anyway, I really have to be careful with controversial issues or my publisher will drop me. And by the way, is there something we could do that doesn’t require marching in Manolos?”

  Jude sighed, appearing to mentally regroup. “Since Toni isn’t up to the rigors of a physical demonstration, mass communication might be the way to go. I have another idea. January 22 is the anniversary of Roe v. Wade, and the antichoice crowd plans to march in Washington that day. For around $15,000 we can purchase pro-choice advertising to run on the city buses for about four weeks or so.”

  They shifted in their seats without making eye contact with her.

  “Even if we did agree, which I don’t, we could never throw that kind of thing together in a month,” Mare said.

  “I’m not suggesting that. They do it every year. We would set the ball rolling for the next year, and make it a yearly event, as long as necessary.”

  “When you’re not around to enjoy the fallout?” Toni said.

  Jude glared at her.

  “Oops, did I say that out loud?”

  “I’m out,” Mare said.

  “Ditto for me,” Toni added.

  “I’m out, too,” Bebe said. “I won’t even do pet abortions.”

  Jude considered each of them disapprovingly. “My, my, how times have changed.”

  “Not as much as you might think,” Toni said, raising an eyebrow.