Dancing in the Rain

by Shelley Hrdlitschka

  Ryan releases his seat belt so he can lean over to hold her. He sighs again. “I always knew I’d be going home eventually. I just didn’t think it would be this soon.”

  Brenna allows him to hold her, but she has nothing to say and she doesn’t return the hug. She’s too numb.

  “We have a whole month left,” he says. “We’ll spend as much time as we can together and make all kinds of great memories.”

  Brenna takes a deep, ragged breath. “I have enough memories.” She pushes him away. “I want to go home.”

  “Oh, Brenna. It’s going to be okay.”

  “Nothing is okay anymore. Take me home.”

  Ryan hesitates, but when she folds her arms across her chest, he turns the key and reluctantly pulls the car back out onto the highway.

  Oct. 27

  I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him.

  fourteen

  Love is like the wind. You can’t see it, but you can feel it.

  (NICHOLAS SPARKS, A WALK TO REMEMBER)

  “Are you okay?” Naysa asks. They’re in the kitchen, packing lunches for school.

  Brenna glances at her, surprised. Naysa hasn’t shown any interest in her in weeks. Her red and swollen eyes must have given her away. Or maybe the persistent sniffling. Neither Naysa or her dad had noticed her mood when she returned from Brackendale the previous day, but then she’d hardly left her room all evening.

  “Not really,” she admits.

  “What’s the matter?”

  Brenna can hear the alarm in Naysa’s voice and realizes that her sister is prone to expecting the worst these days too. She’s reluctant to share her news, but she doesn’t want Naysa to worry that she has some life-threatening disease.

  “Ryan’s going back to Australia in December. Maybe for good.”

  “Oh no! I’m sorry. I like him.”

  She sounds genuine, but Brenna thinks she also hears a hint of relief in her voice. It’s not something life-threatening. Her eyes begin to well up again. She smacks the sandwich container onto the counter. “You know, I don’t think I can face school today.”

  “Then don’t go.”

  Brenna stares at her sister. A year ago she’d never have suggested skipping school. She’d never shown even a hint of rebelliousness.

  “Do you want me to stay home with you?”

  “Thanks, Nayse. I think I’m having one of those days, you know?”

  Naysa nods. “Text me if you change your mind.”

  “I will.” They look at each other, and for a moment it’s almost the way it was before school started. It seems the old Naysa is back, at least temporarily. Brenna sees nothing but compassion in her face.

  In her darkened bedroom she pulls out Kia’s journal and flips through it, rereading some of the entries. Then she rereads Angie’s last email and considers a response, but she can’t think of anything to suggest the three of them do together, especially because she doesn’t know which Naysa will show up on any given day. She pulls out her own journal.

  Oct. 28

  It’s dark at the bottom of this pit. Every time I get a foothold, every time I think I’m going to climb out, I slip to the bottom again. What’s the point in trying?

  Yet…it feels like Nayse and I have reached an unspoken truce. Who’d have guessed?

  Her phone pings with a text from Georgialee.

  Bren! R U sick? Bentley & I were going to hook up with you and the hiking dogs this afternoon. Will you be going?

  She texts back.

  Yep. Meet at the base of Quarry Rock, 3:30.

  Her phone pings again and she expects to see something else from Georgialee, but this one’s from Ryan.

  Pls don’t be mad, Bren. It’s not like I have a choice.

  She closes her eyes, sighs deeply and texts back.

  Not mad. Just sad.

  She sits back and waits for his response. It comes quickly.

  Me too. And I’m kinda scared.

  He’s scared? What of? His mom? His future? She’d been so busy feeling sorry for herself that she hadn’t even considered how he must be feeling.

  Eventually she opens her computer and composes an email to Angie.

  To: angiehazelnut@hotmail.com

  From: brennayoko@gmail.com

  Hi, Angie,

  I can’t really think of anything Naysa would do with us. The things she used to do, like playing the piano and reading, she’s not doing anymore.

  She sits back in her chair and stares at the computer. An idea begins to percolate, but she hesitates. Is it a stupid idea?

  She continues to type.

  We had Ryan over for dinner the other night, and he sat in Mom’s chair. It was nice to have it filled with someone I like, so I was thinking…would you come for dinner and meet my dad and sister? It would be nice to have someone sitting there again, someone I like. You could get to know Naysa and then, hopefully, we can come up with a plan.

  B.

  PS. I’ll totally understand if that feels creepy to you. Sitting in my mom’s chair, that is.

  Brenna rereads the letter, takes a deep breath and presses Send. The response is almost immediate.

  To: brennayoko@gmail.com

  From: angiehazelnut@hotmail.com

  Brenna—I would be honored to have dinner with your family and sit in your mother’s chair. Just name the day.

  Love,

  A.

  Despite her mood, Brenna smiles when she reads Angie’s note. Now she’ll just have to find a way to explain to her dad how Angie came to be in her life.

  “Were you sick or just skipping school today?” Georgialee asks. Bentley has quickly befriended Brenna’s hikers, as she calls the dogs, and the four of them are leading the way up the off-leash trail.

  Brenna really doesn’t feel up to talking about it yet. She still needs to process it herself, but she knows it’s inevitable. “I found out yesterday that Ryan’s going home in December, and he probably won’t be coming back.”

  Georgialee stops so she can look directly at Brenna. “Are you serious? That’s awful!”

  “I know.” Despite her best effort, she can’t hold the tears back. Georgialee puts her arms around her friend and lets her cry. The four dogs circle around them, watching anxiously.

  “It’s okay, guys,” Georgialee says. She points up the trail. “Go!”

  They follow the dogs. “I really like him,” Brenna says. “He makes me forget everything else, you know?”

  “He’s a pretty cool guy.”

  “Exactly.” She uses her sleeve to wipe her nose. “This weekend we carved pumpkins and then we drove up to Brackendale to see the eagles. He’s always got good ideas for things to do.”

  Georgialee nods.

  “Moving back to Australia…he might as well be dead, like my mom.”

  “No, Bren,” Georgialee says. “You’ll be able to Skype and email and maybe go and see him.”

  “We won’t be able to do stuff together.”

  The girls grow quiet as they cross one of the wooden bridges that span the myriad streams trickling down Mount Seymour.

  “Do you want to hear something weird?” Georgialee asks.

  “What?”

  “I’ve been kind of jealous of him.”

  “Jealous?”

  “Yeah. He was able to get close to you. You were doing things again. I felt like I’d let you down somehow. I always said the wrong thing. Because no one close to me has died, it’s like…like I can’t understand… you know?”

  Brenna looks at her friend, but she doesn’t know how to respond. It’s true, Ryan has filled a void that Georgialee hadn’t been able to. She wonders if she herself is partly to blame. She was never able to tell Georgialee what she needed. “Do you wanna know what else is going on?”

  “Yeah, what?”

  Brenna fills her in on meeting Angie and Justin and then shares her ongoing concern about Naysa. By the time she’s finished, they have arrived at the lookout. They
begin snapping leashes on the dogs, but instead of going out to the ledge that overlooks Indian Arm, they sit on a mossy log in the forest. The dogs lie down around them, panting.

  “You’ve got a lot going on,” Georgialee says.

  Brenna nods.

  “So that Aid-A-Child idea. What was that all about?”

  Brenna tells her the truth, that she was hoping to find a way to contact Kia.

  “God, Brenna, I don’t know what to say.”

  “There’s nothing to say.” She shrugs. “Thanks for listening.”

  They sit quietly, soaking up the stillness of the forest. Georgialee presses her shoulder into Brenna. Brenna leans into her. They sit like this for a long time.

  Eventually they pull away, unclip the dogs and head back down the trail.

  “So,” Georgialee says, “have you and Ryan…” She doesn’t finish the sentence.

  “Done it?” Brenna says, smiling.

  “Yeah. Done it.”

  “No, but we’ve talked about it. Sort of.”

  “Well,” Georgialee says, picking up the pace, “you’ve got a month.” She breaks into a jog, and the dogs yap at her heels, happy to play a new game.

  “More snow fell today,” Ryan says, breaking the uneasy quiet. He’s come over to Brenna’s to work on the puzzle, and he’s trying to fit a piece into a hole. “At this rate, the mountain might open early for the ski season. They’re scrambling to get enough lift operators and rental people trained in time.” He looks up. “Do you need a winter job?”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got my own company, remember?”

  “Oh yeah. Right.”

  There’s a gulf between them tonight, a clumsiness. Conversations started but not finished, the problem not addressed but hanging heavily in the air between them. Brenna’s relieved he’s found a topic that’s easy.

  Her dad had raised his eyebrows when Brenna told him Ryan was coming over, had mumbled something about it being a school night, but Brenna had ignored him. They only had a month.

  “Yeah,” he says, thinking out loud, “but the days are getting so short. You won’t be able to hike in the afternoons much longer. Maybe you’ll have to take a hiatus until spring, you know, like seasonal work. Lift operator in winter and dog hiker in summer.”

  Brenna nods. She’s been thinking that too. “The dogs still need to get out, so maybe I’ll just give them neighborhood walks until spring. I can adjust my rates.”

  “Spoken like a true businesswoman.” He smiles, but silence quickly settles over them again. A smattering of firecrackers can be heard out on the street.

  “I’m hoping we’ll get a chance to showshoe,” he says. He doesn’t add before I leave, but they both know what he means.

  Brenna nods and swallows a huge lump. They focus on the puzzle.

  “Dad, there’s something I haven’t told you.” Brenna has spent the whole meal trying to figure out how to broach the subject, but finally she just blurts it out.

  Her dad and Naysa both look up with matching worried expressions.

  “My birth mom’s sister, Angie, contacted me a few weeks ago. She’d run into Justin, the minister, and he told her about Mom. She messaged me to say how sorry she was.”

  “That was nice of her,” her dad says. “I’d forgotten that Kia has a sister.” He returns to his meal, but Naysa is still studying her face.

  She clears her throat. “So we met for coffee, and Justin came too. He said to say hi,” she adds.

  Brenna’s dad regards her, sensing there’s more.

  “I was wondering if we could invite her over for dinner one night. You’d really like her. She’s studying to be a high school teacher.”

  Her father takes a long drink from his glass of water. He removes his glasses, rubs his eyes and puts the glasses back on. “You know your friends are always welcome here, honey, but I’m not sure if the timing is right to revisit that part of your life.”

  “What do you mean?” Brenna feels a tightening in her stomach. “You’re the one who gave me Kia’s journal.” She puts her fork down.

  “That was your mom’s idea.” Her father sighs. “I expect this means Kia will come back into your life too.”

  “Actually, no.”

  Her dad tilts his head, expecting her to continue, but she doesn’t offer anything else.

  “Brenna, we’re all a bit…a bit vulnerable right now, trying to adjust to our new family situation. I’m afraid you’re going to open a whole new can of worms…and maybe for the wrong reasons.”

  Brenna cuts him off. “My birth family is not a can of worms. Why do people keep saying that? You and Mom always encouraged us to seek out good role models. I think Angie is one. She cared enough to contact me. She has no hidden agenda.”

  Her dad raises his hands, palms out. “Fine, Brenna. Invite her over.”

  They eat in silence. Finally her dad speaks again. “Why didn’t you mention you were meeting her?”

  Brenna shrugs. “It was kind of awkward. I didn’t know how you’d feel about it, and I didn’t even know if I’d like her. But I do. A lot.”

  Her dad wipes his mouth with his napkin and pushes his chair back. He changes the subject. “Naysa tells me she’s going out on Thursday night, Halloween. Will you be here to hand out candy? I’ve got a meeting that night.”

  Brenna nods. She glances at Naysa, who shoots her a look that speaks volumes: Don’t ask where I’m going—and Brenna’s pretty sure it won’t be trick-or-treating.

  Her dad knocks on Brenna’s door before entering her room. “Have you got a second?” he asks.

  “Yep.” She drags her focus from the math problem she’s been trying to solve and meets his tired-looking eyes.

  He remains in her doorway but leans against the jamb. “I’m going to be honest with you, honey,” he says. “Your mom and I encouraged Kia to stay connected with you. We didn’t feel at all threatened by that. We were too grateful to her for giving you to us. But at dinner, when you brought this up about her sister, well, my knee-jerk reaction was…it was a sense of alarm. Like somehow I might lose you too if you reconnect with your birth family. I know that’s stupid, but that’s how I felt for a moment. Your mom would definitely have encouraged this. I just wanted to say that.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  He stands there with his hands deep in his pockets, looking uneasy. She wants to tell him that it’s for Naysa that she really wants to invite Angie over, but she doesn’t dare, not with Naysa in the house. “I probably opened that whole can of worms by inviting Justin to officiate at your mom’s service, but that was what she requested.”

  He starts to leave her doorway but turns back to face her. “Naysa told me that Ryan’s going back to Australia. I’m really sorry to hear that.”

  Brenna only nods, not trusting her voice to remain strong.

  Her dad wanders away, but a moment later Naysa comes into her room and plunks herself down on Brenna’s bed. Brenna swivels around in her chair to look at her.

  “So technically,” Naysa says, “you still have a living mother.”

  “Technically,” Brenna agrees.

  “I’m jealous.” It’s spoken like a challenge.

  “Don’t be. She doesn’t want to see me.”

  Naysa’s eyes widen. “Why not?”

  “I guess it’s that can-of-worms thing Dad was talking about.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Brenna slumps in her chair. “From what I understand, putting me up for adoption was hard for her. She struggled afterward. Now she’s found meaningful work,” she says, putting air quotes around the words, “on the other side of the world. She’s working with kids who have AIDS. Reconnecting with me would, apparently, be a setback for her.”

  Naysa mulls this over. “I guess that’s kind of hard for you.”

  “Yeah. Kind of.”

  “Well, then, I guess I’m not jealous anymore.” Naysa climbs off the bed and stomps out of the room.

  Brenna shakes he
r head. Just when she thought the old Naysa was returning, her evil twin sister has reappeared.

  November arrives, bringing shorter days, longer nights. The uneasiness between Brenna and Ryan persists.

  The Grouse Grind has closed for the season, but there’s not yet enough snow for snowshoeing. A few days after Halloween the bears go into their hibernation den, and Brenna’s volunteer work ends for the season.

  “How about a movie?” Ryan asks. It’s the first Saturday they’ve had off together, and they’ve spent the late morning and early afternoon lounging in Brenna’s family room. The rain is coming down in gray sheets outside. Ryan’s long legs are spread wide, and Brenna sits between them, scrolling through Facebook while Ryan looks over her shoulder.

  “What’s playing?”

  He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll check the movie listings.”

  Now Brenna looks on as he scrolls through the options.

  “What do you like?” he asks, tilting his head so their faces are pressed together as they look at the choices.

  “No thrillers or shoot-’em-ups.”

  “Oh. Well, that narrows the field.”

  “And no aliens or vampires.”

  “I don’t think Bambi’s playing this week.”

  She elbows him in the ribs.

  “But there is this.” They watch the trailer together. It’s a movie about survival, where the character has to face the elements as well as his own emotions.

  “That’ll do,” she says. “What do you think?”

  He glances toward the door, then kisses her gently on the lips. “I don’t care what we watch as long as we’re watching it together.”

  “Oh, Ryan,” she says, her tone mocking. “You say the sweetest things.”

  He doesn’t respond but takes her hand and kisses the back of it. She glances at him and notices a shimmer in his eyes. Tears?

  Before she can figure out what he’s feeling, Naysa comes into the room, flops onto the couch and flicks on the TV.

  “How was Halloween, Naysa?” Ryan asks, pulling himself up on the couch. He clears his throat, and Brenna studies his face.