After the Summer Rain

by Gerri Hill

  “Don’t change for anyone.”

  She heard the words so clearly, she actually turned around, expecting to find Melanie in the room with her. But no. She was alone.

  Joyce had told her to take a few days before coming into the office, but she couldn’t stand the silence in her house a second longer. She’d ventured out yesterday—she didn’t have a thing in the house to eat—and found herself at Whole Foods, pushing a cart through the produce aisle. It nearly pained her to buy things that she’d gotten used to picking in the garden. Mel’s garden. She got familiar things: squash, potatoes, broccoli. Some onions and peppers for her breakfast. She’d eyed the bulk bins of dried beans and had even gone so far as to bag a pound of pintos, then decided she was being too adventurous. She opted for canned beans instead.

  Her trip to the grocery store, however, did nothing to alleviate her loneliness. It only served to worsen it, if anything. Because cooking alone, eating alone, only magnified the ache in her chest.

  She looked once again at the row of suits, then shut the closet door. She walked over to her luggage, which was still on the floor beside her bed. She’d put off unpacking because…well, once she unpacked, then she was back. Back here and not there. She dug out a pair of rumpled jeans and held them up. A smile lit her face as she remembered Mel taking her shopping, at Walmart, of all places. She took a deep breath, then slipped them on. She rummaged in her drawers, finally finding a wrinkled T-shirt—navy with their company’s logo emblazoned on it in white. She slipped it over her head, then went back to the closet, using the full-length mirror.

  “Damn…I’ve got boobs again.” Well, sort of. If she pulled the T-shirt tight, yeah, there were definitely breasts there. She let out a sigh, then ran her fingers through her hair. She’d had Dianne give her a trim the week before she left. At first, she thought maybe she should let it go. Let it grow, get somewhat back to normal. But Melanie had run her fingers through it—much like she was doing now—and had told her how sexy she looked with short hair. That was all it had taken.

  She turned away from the mirror, away from the sad eyes that looked back at her. Was she going to be able to fake it? Pretend she was happy? Happy to be back? She paused, then turned back to the mirror, meeting her gaze again.

  Why wasn’t she happy? She was healthy again. She was back home, back in familiar territory, back in control. There were no dark thoughts, no self-doubt, no anger. She had gotten her life back. She hadn’t even considered stocking up on Red Bull when she’d been out. She didn’t need it. She hadn’t reached for the bottle of bourbon last night to dull her senses. Having a drink never even crossed her mind. And now? Now she was heading into the office, to a job she loved. She’d get her projects back. She’d work like she used to, normal hours, like she’d done before Sarah.

  So why wasn’t she happy?

  She turned around and slammed the closet door. Did that question really need an answer?

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Melanie had expected Stella to come by yesterday. She was thankful Stella had given her a day…a day to get used to being alone again. A day to get used to Erin being gone. As she had stood in her garden that morning, trying to find the will to do some work, she had suspected it would take much longer than a day or two.

  She moved as if on autopilot, pouring out what was left of her coffee and going about making a fresh pot, all the while wondering what she was going to say to Stella. Or maybe she wouldn’t have to say anything. Perhaps Stella was simply coming by on her weekly visit…a weekly visit that had all but ceased once Erin had become entrenched in her life.

  She paused, staring out the kitchen window. Entrenched. Yes. That was a good word. Erin’s presence seemed to be everywhere in the house. And last night, as she’d crawled into bed alone—early enough that the sun was still hanging on, early enough that she’d had to force the chickens into their roost—Erin’s presence, or its lack, seemed to fill the room.

  She’d allowed herself to cry then. The room was dark and shadowy. There was no one to hear or see. She’d cried on the long trip home from Silver City too. Cried so hard that she’d had to stop on the side of the road to gather herself, afraid she’d have a wreck or run into a tree if she didn’t. And when she’d gotten to Eagle Bluff, she’d sped past Stella’s house, not taking a chance that she’d be out and about and would wave her over.

  So Stella had given her one day. She was on her way now. Melanie could hear her old truck bouncing along the road. She’d be there before the coffee finished brewing.

  She went out onto the porch to wait, offering a small wave as Stella neared. She smiled when she saw Fred hanging off the back. Stella parked beside her own truck and got out, going around to let the tailgate down for Fred.

  “Thought he might enjoy a ride,” she explained. Then she added, “Thought you might like to keep him a day or two. For company.”

  She nodded. “Thank you. I think I will.”

  Stella sat down in the rocker beside her. Erin’s rocker. She didn’t say anything for the longest, just sat and rocked. Melanie did the same. Finally, Stella spoke, but her rocker never lost its rhythm.

  “Do you remember Colleen?”

  Melanie frowned for a moment, trying to place the name. Then it came to her. “Yes, I do. She came every summer for a while.”

  “Yes.” Stella’s rocker slowed. “Six summers. It was by chance that she stayed with me that first time. It just so happened to be my turn to host.”

  “And regardless of whose turn it was after that, she always stayed with you.”

  “She did.” Stella turned to look at her. “Do you know why?”

  Melanie met her gaze. “I can only guess.”

  “It was the third summer. It was on a Tuesday. We were sitting in my flower garden in the back, drinking tea. There were hummingbirds buzzing around the bougainvillea and she was fascinated by them. We were laughing at their antics.” Stella was smiling now as she started rocking again. “She kissed me out of nowhere. I was so startled—no one had kissed me in thirty years!”

  “You became lovers?” she asked gently.

  Stella blushed bright red and she wouldn’t look at her. “Not that summer, no. We kissed…”

  “You fell in love with her?”

  Stella glanced at her then. “I did. And when she left, I convinced myself it was all a figment of my imagination, yet I waited and waited for winter to pass, then spring…counting down the days ’til summer, hoping she’d come back. And she always did.”

  Until she didn’t. Melanie remembered it well. She usually came in August. By September, when there’d been no word from her, the other ladies were gossiping, noting that Stella wasn’t herself. By the time the September monthly dinner rolled around, it was obvious that Colleen wasn’t coming that year. And yes, it had taken several months for Stella to get over it.

  “Why didn’t you call her? When she stopped coming, why didn’t you call?”

  “It wasn’t any of my business, was it? Oh, that’s not to say that I never picked up the phone. I did. Many times. But I never went through with it.” She folded her hands together in her lap. “It was the most beautiful letter, Mel. I take it out from time to time…on those occasions when I’m missing her. On those nights when I’m feeling particularly lonely.”

  Melanie nodded. Yes, Stella knew about loneliness too, didn’t she? How hard was it for her now? Maybe that’s why Stella hadn’t come around much in August; she’d been missing Colleen.

  “She didn’t want me to know she was sick,” Stella said, almost to herself. “She didn’t want me to look at her with pity, I suppose. She said she wanted me to remember her how she’d been…out here.” Stella stopped rocking and stood up quickly. Melanie was once again struck by her grace, her agility, at seventy-five. “Enough of that, young Mel. How are you doing?”

  Melanie met her gaze. “I miss her,” she said simply.

  Stella nodded. “I imagine so. How deep were you in, honey?” />
  Mel looked away then. “It…it kinda snuck up on me. I had been so careful—at least I thought I had—knowing she’d be leaving.”

  “Our hearts sometimes don’t listen to reason, do they? I would venture to say that Erin misses you as well.”

  Melanie nodded. “Yes, I’m sure she does. We met at the wrong place, wrong time, I guess.”

  Stella shook her head. “Is there such a thing? When you meet someone, someone who lights up your world—and Erin did that for you and you for her—is there such a thing as wrong place, wrong time?”

  Mel held her arms out, motioning toward the creek. “Well, definitely wrong place. I’ll get over it, though. I’ve been alone forever, it seems.”

  “Mel, if it’s love—love will find a way.”

  Melanie met her gaze. “It didn’t for you, though, Stella. It didn’t find a way. I think it’ll be the same for me.”

  Stella opened her mouth to say something, then she closed her eyes briefly, making Melanie wish she’d not said those words to her. When Stella opened her eyes again, she smiled. “I almost forgot,” she said as she hurried off the porch toward her truck. “I baked a zucchini cake yesterday. How about a cup of coffee to go with it?”

  Mel nodded. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Erin rested her forehead against the glass, her gaze fixed on the street, eleven floors below. Twelve o’clock—the lunch hour—and cars were at a standstill, everyone waiting to get through the light and hurry off to restaurants or shops, only to rush back again at one. She’d rarely been a part of that mess, only if she had a business lunch scheduled. She simply hadn’t bothered with eating.

  Melanie would be proud of her. She’d actually packed her lunch—half of the huge potato she’d baked for dinner last night, some steamed broccoli, and a scoop of chickpeas. She’d even thrown a banana in for good measure. She had skipped breakfast, though, and her stomach was rumbling. She didn’t want to fall back into that habit, so she’d already set her alarm for fifteen minutes earlier.

  Not that she’d needed an alarm this morning. She’d been tossing about in her bed for most of the night and she’d been awake, staring at the ceiling, when the alarm had gone off.

  She hadn’t been staring at the ceiling, really. She’d been thinking. Remembering. The ache she felt was entirely different than the pain she’d had when Sarah left her. Of course, with Sarah, there was more anger than pain, wasn’t there? She should have said “good riddance and thank you for wasting six years of my life” and been done with it. She smiled at that thought. Yeah…easy to say now. Who knew her heart wasn’t really broken at the time?

  “Erin? I thought you were going to take a few days.”

  She jumped at the sound of her name, turning to find her father standing in her office. She hesitated only a second before going to him, hugging him tightly in greeting.

  “Dad.”

  “Glad you’re back, Erin. We missed you.”

  “I missed you too,” she said automatically as they drew apart.

  “Wow. Joyce said you looked wonderful. She wasn’t exaggerating.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Still—I should apologize. Erin, what I did, what we did—”

  “It was the right thing, Dad. Yeah, I was pissed at you, but it was the right thing. If I’d stayed here…Well, I needed a kick in the ass. Thank you for giving it to me.” Then she smiled. “Sending me away for three months was kinda drastic, but I’m really glad you did.”

  “So you’re back to your old self? Joyce seems to think so.”

  Erin shrugged. “I guess so.” She pointed to her laptop. “Taking things slow. I haven’t done much more than poke around.”

  “Poke around faster. I’m ready to dump those projects back in your lap.” He headed to the door, then stopped. “Why’d you do it?”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “Working the hours that you did? Making the demands that you did? What were you trying to prove? Something to me? Something to yourself?”

  She frowned. “Prove?”

  “You were already top dog, Erin. You brought in more money, more clients than them. You completed more projects. What else were you trying to prove?”

  “I don’t know that I was trying to prove anything.” Then she smiled. “I had time on my hands, I guess.” She walked back toward the window. “I needed to be good at something. I apparently wasn’t good at anything in my personal life, so…”

  She stared out the window, not really seeing the cars on the street. Was that it? Was that what it had all been about? Not a broken heart. Not Sarah leaving. She needed to have something she was good at. Something she excelled at. Because she was a failure…in her relationship, she was a failure. She turned back around, seeing her father’s quizzical expression. She smiled.

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  He nodded. “Not sure what I did, but okay. Damn glad you’re back, Erin. I don’t know how you did it. I don’t know how you juggled ten projects and kept your sanity.”

  She laughed. “Obviously I didn’t keep my sanity.”

  He laughed too. “Well, to say the least, some of them are running on fumes, some are so far behind schedule, you’ll probably scream. And a couple of them, the buyers are calling almost daily, wanting updates. One of them, I don’t think there’s been any work done in over a month.”

  “Okay…I’ll get everything back on track.”

  “I have no doubt you will.” He shook his finger at her. “Don’t go overboard, Erin. Take it easy. It’s not the end of the world if we don’t meet deadlines.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Good. See that you do. When you’re settled, we’ll plan dinner one night.”

  After he left, she stared at her laptop for a moment, then turned to the window, looking out past the tall buildings and the congestion on the streets, seeing a sliver here and there of the blue sky between the high-rises. She tried not to, of course, but thoughts of Melanie flooded her mind. What was she doing? Was she out in the garden already? Had she remembered to throw scratch out for the chickens? Was Rosie looking around, wondering where she was?

  She turned away from the window at that thought. Damn. Worried about whether a goat missed her or not. She sat down at her desk and pulled the laptop closer. With a heavy sigh and without much enthusiasm, she pulled up her accounts.

  She really didn’t see the numbers, though. She saw a tiny black nose sticking between the slats of a fence—and quiet laughter coming from behind her as she rubbed that tiny nose.

  Damn.

  Chapter Fifty

  Melanie wondered if she’d ever be able to make tortillas in the morning and not think of Erin. How long would it take for her memory to fade? She placed the ball of dough onto her tortilla press and squeezed it flat. For that matter, when would she go back to cooking for one? It seemed at every meal, there was always enough for two.

  Fred had been the beneficiary of that. It had been four days since Stella had dropped him off. He didn’t do much more than lay under the rosebushes, but she could tell he was getting restless. She supposed she’d need to run him back down the creek to Stella’s soon. In fact, she might do that today. Stop and visit her and Rachel, take them a bag of veggies since Stella was cooking for two now. Rachel had been living with her since the storm and, according to Angela, it seemed to be permanent. Maybe she’d stop by Rebecca’s place too and see if she needed any help with anything.

  She smiled a little as she stared out the kitchen window. Maybe it was true what she’d told Erin. The ladies were her family and she needed to think of them that way. She needed to spend more time with them other than only popping over for the monthly dinners. But was it fair to use them as an escape from her thoughts? From her loneliness?

  Yeah. But she needed more than that to escape. She needed to do something. Mid-September was already sneaking past them. She needed some physical exertion. What better way than to
cut and haul firewood down from the mountain? She’d ask Angela. It was a little earlier than she normally cut wood but only by a few weeks.

  She took her breakfast—Erin’s favorite of spicy fried potatoes and scrambled eggs—to the bar and poured another cup of coffee. As she ate, she called upon old habits, mentally going over her chores, planning out her day in silence. She tried her best to muster up some enthusiasm—as she’d been doing since the day Erin left.

  It mostly didn’t work. When Erin left, she seemed to have taken all the joy with her. Again, she wondered how long it would take for her to get back to normal. How long until she snapped out of this funk she’d been in?

  How long before she stopped missing her?

  Chapter Fifty-One

  “Hey, you want to get lunch?”

  Erin looked up, frowning. “Lunch?”

  Joyce came into her office. “Yeah, lunch. You’ve been back over two weeks. I figured you’d be caught up by now. We could walk to Ralph’s, get a burger.”

  Erin shook her head. “Don’t eat burgers.”

  “What? You love burgers.”

  “Kinda don’t anymore. I’m eating…well, vegetarian.”

  “What?”

  Erin smiled. “I spent three months eating that way. I guess I’m used to it now.”

  “You ate vegetarian while you were away? Why on earth?”

  “You really didn’t read their website at all, did you? Yeah, imagine my surprise to find out not only was there no cell service, no Internet—but they were all vegetarians.”

  “Oh my God! Like you didn’t even eat chicken?”

  “Eat the chickens? They were like pets. No way I could eat them. But farm fresh eggs are the best things ever.”

  “Wow. You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

  “Am I?”

  “Yeah. You’ve been so calm since you’ve been back. David Hale called me, wanted to know if you were okay. He said he told you it would be another ten days before he could start on cabinets and you didn’t scream at him.”