Dancing in the Rain

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Dancing in the Rain Page 14

by Shelley Hrdlitschka


  Thanks!

  There is a skiff of snow on the ground as Brenna heads across the mountain. Even from a distance she can see one of the bears rolling in it. Snow always turns them into playful cubs again.

  She’s sweeping the light snow off the bridge between the ponds when Ryan appears. He looks around, assuring himself that they are alone, and then he gives her a hug and a quick but delicious kiss.

  “No staff fraternizing allowed,” he says.

  Brenna wishes they could go somewhere and “fraternize” in private.

  “What should we do tonight?” he asks.

  It’s been three weeks since they tried watching a movie together. Ryan knows better than to watch TV after a mountain shift now, so they’d played video games at his uncle’s house one Saturday night, and Georgialee had invited them over to play board games with some other friends last week.

  “I’m up for anything,” Brenna says, “though I wouldn’t mind being home until Naysa leaves. Apparently she’s going to a Halloween party, and I’d like to see her costume.”

  “Your friends aren’t having Halloween parties?” he asks.

  “No.” None that she wanted to go to anyway.

  “Hey!” His face lights up. “Why don’t we carve pumpkins? That’s such a cool tradition. We don’t have Halloween back home.”

  “No? Okay. And we can roast pumpkin seeds. You’ll love ’em.”

  “Tell you what. I’ll pick some pumpkins up after work,” he says, “and bring them to your house.”

  “Perfect.”

  He gives her another furtive kiss and starts to walk away, then turns back to her. “About tomorrow,” he says.

  “Yeah?”

  “Let’s not hike.” He hangs his head and gives her a sideways look. “I’m tired, and you’ve been hiking all week.”

  Brenna laughs. “Are you kidding me? You dragged me hiking when I didn’t want to go. Now it’s my turn to drag you.”

  “Be nice.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “What if I come up with a plan B, something so much fun you won’t be able to resist?”

  “Well, maybe. But I can’t imagine what that would be.”

  “Then trust me. I know exactly what we’re gong to do instead.” He turns and begins to run. “See you tonight!” he calls over his shoulder.

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Hi, Brenna,

  I, too, am sorry if I overreacted when we met. I REALLY want to stay connected with you, yet I don’t want to mess up things with my sister. I guess this is kind of dishonest, but I don’t know how else to handle things. I’ve been struggling with it.

  Anyway, I’m sorry to hear about your sister. This is another tough one. You are too young, and too fragile yourself right now, to take this on. Like your dad and your aunts, you’ve gone through a lot. Is there a counselor at school you could ask to get involved? Let me know.

  Love,

  Angie

  Brenna has to swallow a lump in her throat.

  From: [email protected]

  To: [email protected]

  Thanks, Angie, but I’m afraid that if I get a counselor involved, Naysa will find out that I was the one who squealed on her. It’s kind of like what’s happening with you and Kia. I don’t want to wreck my relationship (what’s left of it) with my sister either.

  B.

  PS. I’m glad you want to stay connected. Me too.

  The doorbell rings. When Brenna answers it she finds an enormous pumpkin sitting on the doormat. Ryan has run back down the steps and is hoisting another one out of his trunk.

  “Leave it!” he calls to her. “It’s super heavy. I’ll carry it up the stairs.”

  She squats and wraps both arms around it. “You’re the one who’s so tired.”

  He follows her up the stairs and they place the pumpkins on the table. Ryan turns to head back outside.

  “Where are you going?”

  “There’s more.”

  She follows him out to the car and sees three more pumpkins in the trunk. “Five pumpkins?”

  “Yeah, you know, a family of pumpkins.”

  “Oh my god!” she says, reaching for another one. “We’ll be carving all night.”

  “Well, unless we’re alone,” he says quietly, glancing at the house, “in which case we might get distracted.”

  She smiles and feels her skin burning. “I’m not sure we’ll be so lucky.”

  In the kitchen Brenna begins wiping the mud off the biggest pumpkin while Ryan brings up the remaining one. He also takes a cloth and begins wiping them down.

  Naysa comes into the kitchen as they work. “Five pumpkins?” she asks.

  “Yeah, there’s one for you if you want to skip the party and carve with us,” Ryan says.

  “What party?”

  Brenna feels the sharp look her sister gives her, but she doesn’t meet Naysa’s eyes. She forgot to tell Ryan how she found out about the party. She feels him looking at her too, waiting for an explanation, but only an awkward silence fills the room.

  “I guess I just assumed there’d be a party,” he says, returning to the pumpkins. “Halloween is next Thursday, right? So this is the Saturday night before Halloween. Of course there’s a party.”

  Naysa glares at her sister for another moment, then turns and leaves the kitchen.

  “I saw Halloween party written in her planner,” Brenna whispers. “I was snooping. She didn’t know that I knew.” She runs her hand over the smooth surface of the pumpkin. “I’m sorry—I should have mentioned that part.”

  They line the pumpkins up in order of size on the table. “I took the liberty of downloading these,” Ryan says, pulling a wad of folded papers out of his back pocket. As he flattens them on the table, Brenna can see that he’s printed multiple designs for pumpkin carving.

  “Whoa! These look complicated,” Brenna says, picking up a sheet that shows a Mickey Mouse face carved into it. Round ears have somehow been affixed to the top. “Whatever happened to plain old scary faces?”

  “Those are for amateurs,” Ryan says. “Look at this one!” He holds up a page showing a pumpkin with a ghost carved into it. The word BOO runs down the side. Ryan grins.

  “You’re as excited as a little kid,” Brenna says.

  “I told you. We don’t have Halloween at home. I carved my first pumpkin last year. It was awesome.”

  Brenna’s dad comes into the kitchen. “Whoa! Pumpkins! Makes my mouth water for pumpkin pie.”

  “Pumpkin pie!” Ryan says. “That’s something else I never had till last year.” He makes a face. “But I don’t think I was missing much there.”

  “You don’t like pumpkin pie?” Brenna’s dad says, astonished. “The girls’ mom made the world’s best pumpkin pie.” He sighs. “I bet you would have liked hers.”

  “I bet I would have,” Ryan agrees.

  “I’m driving Naysa over to her friend’s,” Brenna’s dad says, shaking the car keys. “I thought you might want to drive, but I see you’re busy.”

  “Another sleepover?” Brenna asks.

  Her dad nods.

  Brenna is about to say something, but Naysa appears in the doorway behind him, carrying a duffel bag. “Let’s go, Dad,” she says. There’s an edge in her voice, and she doesn’t look at Brenna or Ryan.

  Brenna knows she should tell her dad to search that duffel bag and forbid Naysa to sleep over, but she’s torn. She doesn’t want to create a scene with Ryan there.

  “You two be careful with the knives,” her father says. “They’re really sharp.”

  Brenna rolls her eyes. Once he’s out of earshot, she says, “Sharp knives should be the least of his worries.”

  “We didn’t get to see her costume,” Ryan says.

  “It’s probably X-rated,” she says, thinking of the underwear she saw lying around Naysa’s bedroom. “I’m really worried about her.”

  “How ’bout we ta
ke your mind off Naysa,” Ryan says, taking her into his arms. He kisses her eyes, and his hands run down the length of her body. She melts into him and savors the lingering kisses. She does, for the moment, forget all about Naysa.

  When Brenna’s dad returns from dropping off Naysa, they take a break to warm up some leftovers for dinner. Then they get back to work. They’ve each found their pumpkin-carving roles. Brenna likes reaching into the pumpkin’s cavity, pulling out the guts and then separating the seeds from the innards. Ryan designs and carves. The aroma of freshly cut pumpkin fills the kitchen.

  When they’re finished, Brenna rinses the seeds and spreads them out on paper towels to dry. The guts have been added to the compost bin. Brenna places a tea light inside each pumpkin, and when the candles are lit, she calls her dad into the kitchen and turns out the lights. Two ghoulish faces stare back at them, and intricate designs glow from the remaining pumpkins. Ryan snaps photos of them on his phone and immediately texts them to his “mates” in Australia.

  “Now that was fun,” he says, unlocking his car a few minutes later. “I can’t believe Halloween hasn’t caught on back home.” He yawns, gives her a hug and promises to be back in the morning.

  Before she turns out her light for the night, Brenna checks her email.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  I can see your problem, Brenna. Tell me, what does Naysa like to do? Does she have any hobbies? Interests? I thought maybe the 3 of us could get together and do something…and we could talk. Maybe she needs a good listener in her life right now, an adult who is not quite family. What do you think?

  Brenna is mixing tuna with mayonnaise when Ryan returns on Sunday morning.

  “Are you sure I’m going to like this mystery trip better than hiking?” Brenna asks.

  “I know for sure. What can I do to help?” he asks.

  “You can butter the bread. There’s a loaf in the freezer.”

  When she sees him buttering eight slices, she opens another can of tuna and adds more mayonnaise, diced celery and red pepper. He lays lettuce on the bread and puts slices of cucumber on top of the lettuce.

  When the sandwiches have been placed into containers, they pack them into a cloth grocery bag and put water bottles and baggies of the freshly toasted pumpkin seeds on top. Ryan has told Brenna’s dad where they are going, and he watches as they climb into Ryan’s car.

  “Drive safe!” he calls and waves as they pull out of the driveway.

  Ryan drives west, passing Horseshoe Bay. Brenna can see a ferry pulling into its berth far below as they continue along the Sea to Sky Highway. The sun sparkles on the water, and Brenna sits back, relaxing. “Don’t tell me we’re hiking the Chief,” she says. The Chief is a towering granite dome near Squamish that’s popular with experienced hikers.

  “No, not this week. But that’s a good idea for another Sunday.”

  Brenna rifles through Ryan’s case of CDs. She selects Mumford and Sons and pushes it into the slot. They both sing along. Brenna feels the cares of the week fall away as Ryan turns north, leaving Howe Sound behind. She expects him to stop in Squamish, but he drives straight through. “Are we going to Whistler?”

  “Nope, not Whistler.”

  A few kilometers past Squamish, Ryan turns off the highway and Brenna sees the sign for Brackendale Eagles Provincial Park. “Dad gave you permission to take me camping?” she teases.

  “I wish!” He laughs. “No, silly, we’re going to see the eagles. This is the time of year they return to the area, because the chum salmon are spawning. There could be three thousand or more eagles in this valley by the end of December.”

  “You’d think you were the local Vancouverite and I was the newcomer.”

  Ryan pulls into a gravel parking lot alongside a river. “Look!” Brenna says, pointing to the other side. “There are three eagles on that one tree! And four more on that one down there!”

  Orange and yellow leaves still cling to the trees, giving the birds partial shelter, but Ryan and Brenna have no trouble spotting them. They scramble out of the car and stand on the riverbank. “Your mouth is hanging open,” Ryan teases, looking down at her.

  “Oh my god! I can’t believe it. There are so many, and they’re so beautiful!” They watch as an eagle swoops low over the river. Its wingspan is easily two meters.

  “Thank you, Ryan! This is amazing!”

  “I thought you’d like it,” he says. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  Ryan jogs back to the car, and when he returns he’s carrying two sets of binoculars and the grocery bag with their packed lunch. He hands her a set of binoculars.

  “Ha! Now we’re bird-watchers! I thought you had to be at least sixty to qualify.”

  “Not here,” he says.

  Brenna puts the binoculars to her eyes and looks across the river. “You’re right—this is way better than hiking.”

  Ryan rests his arm around her shoulder and they stroll down the riverside path, stopping often to look through the binoculars. Eventually he leads her over to a bench at the side of the path. “Lunchtime,” he says and pulls a sandwich out of the bag.

  Brenna checks her phone. “It’s only eleven o’clock,” she says.

  “My stomach tells me it’s lunchtime. I don’t care what your phone says.”

  Brenna smiles and takes a sandwich too. She leans back and soaks up the whole wilderness setting. “Mom would have liked it here. I’m surprised she never brought us out.”

  “Who explores their own backyard?” Ryan says. “Before they have out-of-town guests, anyway.”

  Ryan has eaten two sandwiches before Brenna finishes her first. “Maybe you should try the whiskey-jack trick with the eagles,” he suggests. “But instead of peanuts, we’ll offer them the last tuna sandwich.”

  “Are you kidding me?” she asks. “Have you seen the talons on these guys? They’d take my arm with the sandwich.”

  “You’re probably right. I saw one grab a huge salmon out of the river when I came here last winter,” he says. “Too bad. I guess I’ll have to eat it then.” He reaches into the bag.

  They sit in silence, watching the eagles and snacking on pumpkin seeds, but after a while Brenna senses a shift in Ryan’s mellow mood. His foot begins to shake erratically, and he keeps running his hand through his hair. She glances at him and is about to ask what he’s thinking about when she feels a drop of rain on her head. She looks up, surprised to see that heavy black clouds have moved in. “I think we’re about to get very wet,” she says and quickly starts putting the remains of their lunch back into the bag.

  The drops turn into a full-on downpour as they walk back toward the car, and after a few minutes they begin to jog, but they’re both soaked by the time they reach the parking lot. They scramble into the car. “Put the heat on,” Brenna says, feeling a chill run through her.

  “Sorry, ma’am,” he says, firing up the engine of the old car. “There’s no heat in Big Red.” He looks over at her. “But I know a better way to warm you up,” he says as he pulls her close.

  The windshield wipers slap loudly as they drive back down the Sea to Sky Highway. The scenery looks entirely different now, with no more sunlight sparkling on the water. Instead the clouds hang heavy and ominous. Everything is a flat shade of gray—the sky, the water, the mountains in the distance.

  They stop in a coffee shop to warm up and dry off. Not wanting the carefree mood from the morning to end, Brenna continues to sing along with the music when they get back in the car, but she notices she is singing alone, and when she glances at Ryan she sees an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. “You okay?” she asks.

  “Yeah. Sort of.” His thumb taps the steering wheel. He takes a deep breath and sighs loudly. “But there is something I need to tell you.”

  Dread sweeps through her. She knows that when someone says there’s something I need to tell you, the news is never good.

  “Don’
t tell me right now. I don’t want to spoil a perfectly perfect day.” She slides lower in her seat, realizing the futility of it. The day has already been ruined just by knowing he has some bad news to share.

  Ahead of them, the sheer rock surface of the Chief towers above the road. Ryan pulls off the highway again, into the gravel area where the hikers park before making the climb. He shuts off the ignition and turns to take one of her hands in his.

  He’s breaking it off, Brenna thinks. He’s decided I’m too young.

  “My uncle and I are going to see my mom,” he says. “We’re going at the start of December and will stay at least through Christmas.”

  Brenna stares at him, a mixture of relief and alarm transforming her face. “But you are coming back?”

  Ryan’s eyes flicker away. “That’s undecided. We’re going to see how she is. She’s being discharged from the long-term-care facility, and someone needs to be with her.”

  She studies his face. “So you might not come back.”

  He doesn’t respond or meet her eyes.

  “How long have you known this?” The disbelief is turning to anger.

  “Only a couple of days. When I got home last night my uncle was still up, and we had a long talk, ironing out the details. He feels he should come with me, but he can’t stay longer than a month.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

  “I didn’t want to ruin today. I was looking forward to bringing you out here.”

  Brenna slouches down farther as the truth of his words washes through her. Someone has to stay with his mother, and it won’t be her brother, Ryan’s uncle, because his home is now in Canada. That leaves Ryan. She brushes a lone tear off her cheek. “Can you bring your mom here?”

 

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