Dancing in the Rain

by Shelley Hrdlitschka

  “Hey, Brenna,” Mark says. “You’re looking happy today.”

  She is happy, Brenna realizes, and she’s acutely aware of Ryan’s presence as she goes through her morning routine. Often when she glances over at him, he happens to look back at her at the exact same moment. She feels a full-body rush every time their eyes meet.

  The bears are getting extremely fat and are moving slowly. Mark tells her they’ve also been sleeping more and more each day. She remembers how much she missed them when they hibernated last year—it was like a physical ache—but there’s a video camera in their den, so she can watch for their daily stretching sessions. The wildlife team has dubbed this activity “bear yoga.”

  When she’s finished her shift she walks over to where the fence crew is working. Ryan steps away from them, taking a short break. He’s panting from exertion.

  “Want to hang out tonight?” he asks.

  “Sure. Why don’t you come over and have dinner with us? We can figure out what we want to do after that.”

  “Sounds good,” he says. “What’s on the menu?”

  “Probably casserole,” she says, laughing. “With brownies for dessert.”

  “Beauty, mate,” he says. “After this day I’m going to be starved.”

  “This is delicious!” Ryan says, forking the pasta into his mouth. Brenna, her dad and Naysa watch with amusement how fast he shovels it in. “What’s in it?”

  Brenna shrugs. “I just pulled it out of the freezer. It didn’t come with a list of ingredients.”

  Initially it felt odd to have someone sitting in her mother’s chair at the round kitchen table. The chair had sat empty for months, like a gaping hole. When the extended family had come over, they’d moved the meals to the larger dining room table. Brenna’s relieved that it’s Ryan and not someone else sitting in this chair now.

  “I start my driving lessons next week,” she says, making an effort at light conversation. “And I need fifteen hours of practice time between lessons. I hope you’ll be able to take me out,” she says to her dad.

  “I could go with you.” Ryan takes his eyes off his plate just long enough to make the offer.

  “Thanks, but it has to be someone over twenty-five,” Brenna tells him.

  “We’ll set up some times,” her father says. “And you can practice in your mom’s car.”

  “You’re not planning on selling it?” Brenna asks.

  “I thought we’d keep it for you girls to use.”

  “Well, that’s not fair,” Naysa says. She’s been quiet until now. “I’m not sixteen for another three years. It will be old by then. And Brenna doesn’t have to share with anyone from now until then.”

  Brenna’s glad Ryan is having dinner with them because she’s pretty sure that either she or her dad would have lost their temper with Naysa otherwise. No one reacts for a moment, and then Brenna says, “Who knows where I’ll be in three years. I could be working in Africa, and the car will be all yours.”

  “Africa?” her dad asks.

  Ryan looks up from his plate long enough to glance at her before returning to his meal.

  “Just sayin’,” she responds. “And I’ll be able to chauffeur you around until then, Nayse, so it will benefit you too.”

  Naysa pushes her plate away. “May I be excused?”

  Brenna and her father exchange glances. “Yes, Naysa, you may,” he says. “What are you up to tonight?”

  “Hanging out with my friends.”

  “You’ve been doing a lot of that.”

  “What else is there to do?” She carries her plate to the dishwasher.

  “Homework,” her dad says and smiles.

  Naysa throws him a look and leaves the kitchen.

  “May I have another helping, please?” Ryan asks.

  Brenna scrolls through the options on Netflix. They’ve decided to stay in and watch TV. The evening has turned wet, and Brenna lights the gas fire for the first time since last spring. Brenna’s dad is in his office, and Brenna sits close to Ryan on the couch. He puts his arm around her shoulders, and she snuggles in closer.

  “Shall we take Bentley on our hike again tomorrow?” she asks after they agree on a program and the opening credits roll.

  “Yeah, he was a pretty good chaperone,” Ryan says. “Didn’t stop me from putting my moves on you.”

  Brenna smiles.

  Ryan stretches out his legs. “Though you may have to pull me up the hill tomorrow. I’m stiff all over. Maybe I’m not cut out to be a maintenance guy after all.”

  The program begins, and Brenna relaxes. Five minutes later she feels Ryan’s arm get heavy, and then he begins to snore softly. She lifts his arm off her shoulder and decides not to wake him. An hour and a half later she shuts off the TV and prods him in the chest.

  “Ryan. Wake up.”

  He sits up with a start and looks around the room, momentarily confused.

  “Did you like the show?” she teases.

  “Oh man.” He enjoys a full-body stretch and rubs his face.

  “You were out cold.”

  He yawns and glances at the door. “Does this mean we’ve slept together?” he whispers.

  “No, Ryan, it doesn’t,” she says sternly. “Because you were the only one sleeping.”

  He glances at the door again and then leans in to give her a kiss. She pulls away after only a few seconds.

  “I guess I’d better head home,” he says. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a dud tonight.”

  “You’re not a dud, even when you’re sleeping.” She kisses him, lingering a little longer this time.

  On his way out, Ryan stops at the door to her dad’s office. “Thanks for having me over,” he says. “Dinner was amazing.”

  “Maybe you should take the leftovers,” Brenna’s father suggests. “We’re getting a little tired of that sort of thing.”

  “I won’t do that, but if they’re still in the fridge tomorrow I might eat them before our hike.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  Brenna sees Ryan out before returning to her father’s office. “I’m going to bed, Dad.”

  “I’m not far behind.”

  She gives him a kiss on the cheek before leaving the room.

  “Brenna?” he says, calling her back from the hall.

  “Yeah?” She stands in the doorway.

  “He seems nice.”

  “He is.”

  “Take it slow.”

  She nods.

  “Have you seen Naysa yet?”

  “No.”

  He glances at his watch. “She’s late.”

  “She was late last night too.”

  His eyebrows spring up. He picks up his cell phone. “I’ll give her a call. See if she needs a ride.”

  As he punches the buttons, the front door opens and Naysa appears at the bottom of the stairs. “She’s home,” Brenna tells her father and goes straight to her room, closing the door behind her. Her father can deal with this new person who used to be Naysa.

  Ryan really does arrive early to finish the leftovers on Sunday afternoon. They collect Bentley from Georgialee’s and head back up Mount Seymour.

  “I am sore everywhere,” Ryan complains as they walk through the parking lot toward the trailhead.

  “Maybe you should reapply for your trammie job,” Brenna suggests.

  “Maybe not.”

  Brenna unclips Bentley from his leash when they start the trail and he gallops ahead of them, celebrating his freedom. A moment later he’s back, gazing up at Brenna, his tail wagging.

  “Having fun?” she asks him.

  He barks in response and bounds off again.

  “I’m surprised you don’t have your own dog,” Ryan says, taking her hand as they reach a wide, flat section in the trail.

  “Yeah, I’d like one,” she says. “And Mom always did too, but until recently we lived in a no-pets condo, and then Mom got sick right after we bought our house. Without Mom on my side I don’t know if I coul
d persuade Dad to get one. Besides, I might be gone in a couple of years.”

  “Gone, as in working in Africa.”

  “Okay, I know that was a bit extreme, but maybe I’ll go away to school or something. Who knows? And I probably couldn’t leave my dog if I had one, so it’s best not to get one. For now,” she adds.

  “I had to find a new home for my dog when I came to Canada,” Ryan says. “Max. I miss him.”

  Brenna glances at his face and sees the sadness there. “I used to think about starting a dog-walking business,” she admits.

  “Hey, that’s a great idea! But make it a dog-hike business.”

  “Right.”

  “No, seriously. Why not make a little cash while getting in shape for Seek the Peak?”

  “Did I agree to do that?”

  “Not yet, you haven’t.”

  Brenna shakes her head. They both know his track record on talking her into things.

  “I think it’d be great! I can’t hike on Wednesday afternoons anymore because of my new job. You could do Quarry Rock with dogs after school every day, make some money, and we’ll still have our Sunday hikes. Or snowshoeing, depending on the weather.”

  “Sounds like a lot of hiking.”

  Ryan stops to pull the water out of his pack. He takes a long drink, then looks up and down the trail. “Where’s our chaperone?” he asks. Not waiting for an answer, he leans into Brenna and begins to kiss her. Brenna closes her eyes and loses herself in his kiss. The forest is still except for the odd bird chirp. She tastes the lingering flavors of his lunch and breathes in the saltiness of his skin. A moment later Bentley nudges her hand. “Right here,” she says, breaking off the kiss. “Doing his job.”

  “Oh man,” Ryan grumbles, and he follows Brenna along the trail.

  “Have you thought any more about that dog-hiking idea?” Ryan asks. They’d made it to the lookout, where Bentley had rested while they stretched out under a tree, wrapped in each other’s arms. They were now headed back to the parking lot.

  Brenna laughs. She’s feeling euphoric from the long, uninterrupted kisses. “When was I supposed to think about it? You only suggested it an hour ago.”

  “Yeah, but it’s such a good idea. A win-win.”

  Brenna doesn’t respond.

  “I could come back to your house and help you make flyers to tack up around the community. You could post an ad on Craigslist and ask your friends to promote your business on Facebook.”

  “Maybe you should start a dog-hiking business.”

  “I already have a job.”

  They walk along in silence for a while.

  “Tell me honestly, Brenna. We’ve been hiking for six weeks now. Are you feeling any different?”

  She thinks about it. The hikes do seem less strenuous, and she’d noticed just yesterday that her jeans were feeling looser.

  “I bet a lot of people could really use the services of a dog hiker.”

  Brenna still doesn’t respond. She wonders what her mom would have thought of the idea. She suspects she would have liked it. A lot. Her mom loved dogs, and she loved to hike. What’s not to love?

  “Well?”

  “Well, okay. There’s no harm in trying.”

  They spend the rest of the afternoon and evening creating a flyer and then printing out copies. They place an ad on Craigslist. Ryan stays for dinner again and eats twice as much mac and cheese as the rest of them. They walk around the neighborhood in the evening, tacking flyers to poles.

  “Now we wait for the calls to come in,” Ryan says. They’re standing at his car. He’s getting ready to leave.

  “If they come in.”

  “Oh, they will,” he says. He glances at the house, wondering if they’re being observed. He gives her a quick kiss and a longer hug. “Keep me posted.”

  Oct. 6

  If Ryan were a dog, his tail would be constantly wagging.

  Brenna takes her phone out of her purse at the lunch break on Monday. She’s hoping to find a message from Ryan but is startled to see she’s missed six calls. She listens to the first one. It’s a dog-hiking request. So is the second. And the third. The fourth is a message from her driving teacher confirming her lesson, but the remaining two are more dog-hiking requests.

  She texts Ryan:

  I’m in business! 5 phone requests and I haven’t even checked my email yet.

  His response is immediate.

  Brenna slips into an empty classroom, plunks herself down at a desk and pulls her planner out of her bag. She starts returning calls and sets up appointments to meet the dogs and their owners.

  thirteen

  Grief doesn’t change you…it reveals you.

  (JOHN GREEN, THE FAULT IN OUR STARS)

  Brenna towels Charlie off before letting him into his house. His owners have trusted her with a key to their home. Other owners simply hide a key outside for her on the days she takes their dogs. She gives the black Lab another back rub and then collects her money from the table by the door. After locking up, she unties Barkley and Winston from the railing where they wait patiently. By hiking with three dogs at a time, she can make sixty dollars a day. She’s been in business for less than three weeks, but she has all the dogs she can handle for now, and the wait list is growing.

  At home, she leaves her muddy hiking boots at the door and peels off her wet rain gear. She pulls the money out of her pocket and adds it to the envelope on her desk, which is already getting thick. She flops down on her bed and makes eye contact with the baby orangutan in the Borneo poster. If she keeps this up, she will have more money than she ever expected by the time she graduates. The trip to Borneo and the orangutan sanctuary could easily become a reality, even without her mom. Maybe she could spread some of her mother’s ashes there.

  Her parents had always encouraged her and Naysa to divide their money three ways: one third they keep, one third goes to charity, and one third goes into savings. Soon, she realizes, she will have a significant amount to donate somewhere.

  She rolls onto her side and closes her eyes. Maybe she should ask Justin how to donate it to Aid-A-Child anonymously. She smiles, but then a twinge of guilt makes her squirm. Is this being disloyal to her mom? She thinks about it. She could donate half of her charity money to the Seek the Peak relay and the other half to Aid-A-Child.

  There’s a knock on her door. Her father is there, jangling car keys. “Ready to drive?” he asks.

  “I thought we were going out after dinner to practice.”

  “I phoned Pizza Palace and placed an order. We can pick it up on our way home.”

  “Perfect.” Brenna climbs off her bed and takes the keys from her father. “Let’s hit the road.”

  Brenna flips the page in her school planner. A pumpkin sticker grins out at her. Halloween is less than a week away. Where has the month gone?

  Ryan has been working long hours on the mountain, preparing it for the ski season, and she’s been busy hiking every afternoon with the dogs and practicing driving in the evening. She picks up her phone and sends a text to Ryan.

  Miss you!

  The response comes quickly.

  Same! Working late 2nite. First flakes of snow today! See you tomorrow! And the next day!

  Feeling restless, Brenna wanders down the hall and looks into Naysa’s room. It’s empty. She’s rarely home anymore, especially not on a Friday night. Brenna and her dad ate the whole large pizza themselves.

  She steps into the room and scans the pile of stuff heaped on Naysa’s desk. Textbooks, scraps of paper, old school newsletters, makeup, jewelry, dirty plates and half-empty cups are all jumbled together. Only six months ago Naysa had prided herself on how organized and tidy she kept her desk and bedroom. Her school planner lies open on the edge of the mess. Brenna picks it up and turns the page. A pumpkin identical to Brenna’s grins out at her, one of the stickers that came with the school-issued planners. She flips the page back and looks more closely at the notes that are scribbled on the page
. HALLOWEEN PARTY!!! is noted for the next night, Saturday. That’s the first Brenna has heard of it.

  She returns the book to the desk and pulls open the top drawer. Matches and a corkscrew are tucked in between pens, sticky notes and highlighters. Alarmed, she quickly closes the drawer and glances around the room. The bed is unmade, and the laundry hamper sits in a corner, empty, while a week’s worth of clothes sits in small mounds around it. She kicks at a pile and then reaches down and pulls out a bright-pink, lacy bra. This is new, she thinks, and then notices the matching panties, also half buried. Her foot kicks at another heap of clothes and she uncovers two sets of lacy thongs and matching camisoles. She opens the closet and starts rifling through the mess. Her toe hits something hard. She lifts up a crumpled jacket and finds a half-empty bottle of vodka.

  She closes the closet and returns to her own room, her heart pounding. She’s suspected Naysa was getting into trouble, but seeing the evidence makes it much more real. What should she do? She needs to share this with someone.

  She grabs her phone and calls Georgialee but only gets her voice mail. She doesn’t leave a message. Who else can she talk to about Naysa? She can’t dump this on her father. He’s got enough to deal with, as do her aunts, her mother’s sisters. She needs someone who cares but also has some distance.

  The answer comes to her. She sits in her desk chair, lifts the lid on her laptop and starts to type.

  To: angiehazelnut@hotmail.com

  From: brennayoko@gmail.com

  Hey, Angie,

  I’m sorry I haven’t contacted you since we met and especially sorry if I seemed grouchy when you asked me not to connect with Kia through Aid-A-Child. I withdrew the project from the SJ Club’s list of projects and will donate anonymously if I decide to do that.

  I’m wondering if you can help me out with something else. I don’t know who to talk to. I don’t want to upset my dad or my mom’s sisters—they’ve been through enough already—but I think my little sister is getting into some serious trouble. This is really, really sudden, since Mom died. She’s always been a sweet kid, but she started high school and wham! She changed overnight. I think she’s drinking and probably smoking too. She’s always grouchy when she’s home, but she’s out who-knows-where more and more often. I know you said you are going to be a teacher, so I thought you might have some advice for me.