The Rain Sparrow

by Debbie Macomber

  “We have to,” she mumbled, her gaze dropping to her notebook.

  “All right. I get the message. I’ll quit pestering you.”

  “You’re not pestering me.”

  “Right.” He bent to kiss the side of her neck as his fingers stroked her arms.

  Shivers raced down her spine and Ellen closed her eyes, unconsciously swaying toward him. “Now...now you’re pestering me.”

  He chuckled, leaving her alone at the kitchen table when she would much rather have had him with her every minute of every day.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING, Ellen stood by the door, watching Reed pull out of the driveway.

  “Why do you do that?” Pat asked, giving her a glance that said she looked foolish standing there.

  “Do what?” She decided the best reaction was to pretend she didn’t have any idea what he was talking about.

  “Watch Reed leave every morning. He’s not likely to have an accident pulling out of the driveway.”

  Ellen didn’t have the courage to confess that she watched so she could see whether Reed drove the pickup or the Porsche. It would sound ridiculous to admit that she gauged their relationship by which vehicle he chose to drive that day.

  “She watches because she can’t bear to see him go,” Derek answered when she didn’t. “From what I hear, Michelle does the same thing. What can I say? The woman’s crazy about me.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Monte snickered. “And that’s the reason she was with Rick Bloomfield the other day?”

  “She was?” Derek sounded completely shocked. “There’s an explanation for that. Michelle and I have an understanding.”

  “Sure you do,” Monte teased. “She can date whoever she wants and you can date whoever you want. Some understanding.”

  To prove to the boys that she wasn’t as infatuated as they assumed—and maybe to prove the same thing to herself—Ellen didn’t watch Reed leave for work the next two mornings. It was pointless, anyway. So what if he drove his Porsche? He had the car, and she could see no reason for him to not drive it. Except for her unspoken insecurities. And there seemed to be plenty of those. As Derek had said earlier in the week, Reed could have any woman he wanted.

  She was the first one home that afternoon. Derek was probably sorting things out with Michelle, Pat had basketball practice and no doubt Monte was in someone’s kitchen.

  Gathering the ingredients for spaghetti sauce, she arranged them neatly on the counter. She was busy reading over her recipe when the phone rang.

  “Hello,” she said absently.

  “This is Capitol Hill Cleaners. Mr. Morgan’s evening suit is ready.”

  “Pardon?” Reed hadn’t told her he was having anything cleaned. Ellen usually picked up his dry cleaning because it was no inconvenience to stop there on her way home from school. And she hadn’t minded at all. As silly as it seemed, she’d felt very wifely doing that for him.

  “Is it for Reed or Derek?” It was just like Derek to forget something like that.

  “The slip says it’s for Mr. Reed Morgan.”

  “Oh?”

  “Is there a problem with picking it up? He brought it in yesterday and told us he had to have it this evening.”

  This evening? Reed was going out tonight?

  “From what he said, this is for some special event.”

  Well, he wouldn’t wear a suit to a barbecue. “I’ll let him know.”

  “Thank you. Oh, and be sure to mention that we close at six tonight.”

  “Yes, I will.”

  A strange numbness overpowered Ellen as she hung up. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Without even realizing it, she moved rapidly through the kitchen and then outside.

  Reed had often told her the importance of reading a problem in algebra. Read it carefully, he always said, and don’t make any quick assumptions. It seemed crazy to remember that now. But he was right. She couldn’t jump to conclusions just because he was going out for the evening. He had every right to do so. She was suddenly furious with herself. All those times he’d offered information about Danielle and she’d refused to listen, trying to play it so cool, trying to appear so unconcerned when on the inside she was dying to know.

  By the time she reached the garage she was trembling, but it wasn’t from the cold December air. She knew without looking that Reed had driven his sports car to work. The door creaked as she pushed it open to discover the pickup, sitting there in all its glory.

  “Okay, he drove his Porsche. That doesn’t have to mean anything. He isn’t necessarily seeing Danielle. There’s a logical explanation for this.” Even if he was seeing Danielle, she had no right to say anything. They’d made no promises to each other.

  Rubbing the chill from her arms, Ellen returned to the house. But the kitchen’s warmth did little to chase away the bitter cold that cut her to the heart. Ellen moved numbly toward the phone and ran her finger down the long list of numbers that hung on the wall beside it. When she located the one for Reed’s office, she punched out the seven numbers, then waited, her mind in turmoil.

  “Mr. Morgan’s office,” came the efficient voice.

  “Hello...this is Ellen Cunningham. I live, that is, I’m a friend of Mr. Morgan’s.”

  “Yes, I remember seeing you the night of the Christmas party,” the voice responded warmly. “We didn’t have a chance to meet. Would you like me to put you through to Mr. Morgan?”

  “No,” she said hastily. “Could you give him a message?” Not waiting for a reply, she continued, “Tell him his suit is ready at the cleaners for that...party tonight.”

  “Oh, good, he wanted me to call. Thanks for saving me the trouble. Was there anything else?”

  Tears welled in Ellen’s eyes. “No, that’s it.”

  Being reminded by Reed’s assistant that they hadn’t met the night of the Christmas party forcefully brought to Ellen’s attention how few of his friends she did know. None, really. He’d gone out of his way not to introduce her to people.

  “Just a minute,” Ellen cried, her hand clenching the receiver. “There is something else you can tell Mr. Morgan. Tell him goodbye.” With that, she severed the connection.

  A tear rolled down her cheek, searing a path as it made its way to her chin. She’d been a fool not to have seen the situation more clearly. Reed had a good thing going, with her living at the house. She was close to falling in love with him. In fact, she was already there and anyone looking at her could tell. It certainly wasn’t any secret from the boys. She cooked his meals, ran his errands, vacuumed his rugs. How convenient she’d become. How useful she’d been to the smooth running of his household.

  But Reed had never said a word about his feelings. Sure, they’d gone out, but always to places where no one was likely to recognize him. And the one time Reed did see someone he knew, he’d pretended he wasn’t with her. When he had included her in a social event, he’d only introduced her to a handful of people, as though...as though he didn’t really want others to know her. As it turned out, that evening had been a disaster, and this time he’d apparently decided to take Danielle. The other woman was far more familiar with the social graces.

  Fine. She’d let Reed escort Danielle tonight. But she was going to quit making life so pleasant for him. How appropriate that she now used the old servants’ quarters, she thought bitterly. Because that was all she was to him—a servant. Well, no more. She would never be content to live a backstairs life. If Reed didn’t want to be seen with her, or include her in his life, that was his decision. But she couldn’t...she wouldn’t continue to live this way.

  Without analyzing her actions, Ellen punched out a second set of numbers.

  “Charlie, it’s Ellen,” she said quickly, trying to swallow back tears.

  “Ellen? It doesn’t
sound like you.”

  “I know.” The tightness in her chest extended all the way to her throat, choking off her breath until it escaped in a sob.

  “Ellen, are you all right?”

  “Yes...no.” The fact that she’d called Charlie was a sign of her desperation. He was so sweet and she didn’t want to do anything to hurt him. “Charlie, I hate to ask, but I need a friend.”

  “I’m here.”

  He said it without the least hesitation, and his unquestioning loyalty made her weep all the louder. “Oh, Charlie, I’ve got to find a new place to live and I need to do it today.”

  “My sister’s got a friend looking for a roommate. Do you want me to call her?”

  “Please.” Straightening, she wiped the tears from her face. Charlie might have had his faults, but he’d recognized the panic in her voice and immediately assumed control. Just now, that was what she needed—a friend to temporarily take charge of things. “How soon can you talk to her?”

  “Now. I’ll call her and get right back to you. On second thought, I’ll come directly to your place. If you can’t move in with Patty’s friend, my parents will put you up.”

  “Oh, Charlie, how can I ever thank you?”

  The sound of his chuckle was like a clean, fresh breeze. “I’ll come up with a way later.” His voice softened. “You know how I feel about you, Ellen. If you only want me for a friend, I understand. But I’m determined to be a good friend.”

  The back door closed with a bang. “Anyone home?”

  Guiltily, Ellen turned around, coming face to face with Monte. She replaced the receiver, took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She’d hoped to get away without having to talk to anyone.

  “Ellen?” Concern clouded his face. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve been crying.” He narrowed his eyes. “You have been crying. What happened?”

  “Nothing.” She took a minute to wipe her eyes with a tissue. “Listen, I’ll be up in my room, but I’d appreciate some time alone, so don’t get me unless it’s important.”

  “Sure. Anything you say. Are you sick? Should I call Reed?”

  “No!” she almost shouted at him, then instantly regretted reacting so harshly. “Please don’t contact him.... He’s busy tonight anyway.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “And listen, about dinner—”

  “Hey, don’t worry. I can cook.”

  “You?” This wasn’t the time to get into an argument. How messy he made the kitchen was no longer her problem. “There’s a recipe on the counter if you want to tackle spaghetti sauce.”

  “Sure. I can do that. How long am I supposed to boil the noodles?”

  One of her lesser concerns at the moment was boiling noodles. “Just read the back of the package.”

  Already he was rolling up his sleeves. “I’ll take care of everything. You go lie down and do whatever women do when they’re crying and pretending they’re not.”

  “Thanks,” she returned evenly. “I’ll do that.” Only in this case, she wasn’t going to lie on her bed, hiding her face in her pillow. She was going to pack up everything she owned and cart it away before Reed even had a hint that she was leaving.

  Sniffling as she worked, Ellen dumped the contents of her drawers into open suitcases. A couple of times she stopped to blow her nose. She detested tears. At the age of fifteen, she’d broken her leg and gritted her teeth against the agony. But she hadn’t shed a tear. Now she wept as though it were the end of the world. Why, oh why, did her emotions have to be so unpredictable?

  Carrying her suitcases down the first flight of stairs, she paused on the boys’ floor to shift the weight. Because she was concentrating on her task and not watching where she was going, she walked headlong into Derek. “Sorry,” she muttered.

  “Ellen.” He glanced at her suitcases and said her name as though he’d unexpectedly stumbled into the Queen of Sheba. “What...what are you doing?”

  “Moving.”

  “Moving? But...why?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “You’re crying.” He sounded even more shocked by her tears than by the fact that she was moving out of the house.

  “It’s Reed, isn’t it? What did he do?”

  “He didn’t do a thing. Stay out of it, Derek. I mean that.”

  He looked stunned. “Sure.” He stepped aside and stuck his hand in his pocket. “Anything you say.”

  She made a second trip downstairs, this time bringing a couple of tote bags and the clothes from her closet, which she draped over the top of the two suitcases. There wasn’t room in her luggage for everything. She realized she’d have to put the rest of her belongings in boxes.

  Assuming she’d find a few empty boxes in the garage, she stormed through the kitchen and out the back door. Muttering between themselves, Monte and Derek followed her. Soon her movements resembled a small parade.

  “Will you two stop it,” she shouted, whirling around and confronting them. The tears had dried now and her face burned with the heat of anger and regret.

  “We just want to know what happened,” Monte interjected.

  “Or is this going to be another one of your ‘stay tuned’ responses?” Derek asked.

  “I’m moving out. I don’t think I can make it any plainer than that.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s none of your business.” She left them standing with mouths open as she trooped up the back stairs to her rooms.

  Heedlessly she tossed her things into the two boxes, more intent on escaping than on taking care to ensure that nothing was broken. When she got to the vase that had held the roses Reed had sent her, Ellen picked it up and hugged it. She managed to forestall further tears by taking deep breaths and blinking rapidly. Setting the vase down, she decided not to bring it with her. As much as possible, she wanted to leave Reed in this house and not carry the memories of him around with her like a constant, throbbing ache. That would be hard enough without taking the vase along as a constant reminder of what she’d once felt.

  The scene that met her at the foot of the stairs made her stop in her tracks. The three boys were involved in a shouting match, each blaming the others for Ellen’s unexpected decision to move out.

  “It’s your fault,” Derek accused Monte. “If you weren’t so concerned about your stomach, she’d stay.”

  “My stomach? You’re the one who’s always asking her for favors. Like babysitting and cooking for you and your girlfriend and—”

  “If you want my opinion...” Pat began.

  “We don’t,” Monte and Derek shouted.

  “Stop it! All of you,” Ellen cried. “Now, if you’re the least bit interested in helping me, you can take my things outside. Charlie will be here anytime.”

  “Charlie?” the three echoed in shock.

  “Are you moving in with him?”

  She didn’t bother to respond. Once the suitcases, the bags, two boxes and her clothes had been lugged onto the porch, Ellen sat on the top step and waited.

  She could hear the boys pacing back and forth behind her, still bickering quietly. When the black sports car squealed around the corner, Ellen covered her face with both hands and groaned. The last person she wanted to see now was Reed. Her throat was already swollen with the effort of not giving way to tears.

  He parked in front of the house and threw open the car door.

  She straightened, determined to appear cool and calm.

  Seconds later, Reed stood on the bottom step. “What’s going on here?”

  “Hello, Reed,” she said with a breathlessness she couldn’t control. “How was your day?”

  He jerked his fingers through his hair as he stared back at her in utter confusion. “How am I supposed to know? I get a frantic phone call from Derek telling me to come home righ
t away. As I’m running out the door, my assistant hands me a message. Some absurd thing about you saying goodbye. What is going on? I thought you’d hurt yourself!”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “Ellen, I don’t know what’s happening in that overworked mind of yours, but I want some answers and I want them now.”

  “I’m leaving.” Her hands were clenched so tight that her fingers ached.

  “I’m not blind,” he shouted, quickly losing control of his obviously limited patience. “I can see that. I’m asking you why.”

  Pride demanded that she raise her chin and meet his probing gaze. “I’ve decided I’m an unstable person,” she told him, her voice low and quavering. “I broke my leg once and didn’t shed a tear, but when I learn that you’re going to a party tonight, I start to cry.”

  “Ellen.” He said her name gently, then shook his head as if clearing his thoughts. “You’re not making any sense.”

  “I know. That’s the worst part.”

  “In the simplest terms possible, tell me why you’re leaving.”

  “I’m trying to.” Furious with herself, she wiped a tear from her cheek. How could she explain it to him when everything was still so muddled in her own mind? “I’m leaving because you’re driving the Porsche.”

  “What!” he exploded.

  “You tell me,” she burst out. “Why did you drive the Porsche today?”

  “Would you believe that my truck was low on fuel?”

  “I may be confused,” she said, “but I’m not stupid. You’re going out with Danielle. Not that I care.”

  “I can tell.” His mocking gaze lingered on her suitcases. “I hate to disillusion you, but Danielle won’t be with me.”

  She didn’t know whether to believe him or not. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “None of this is making sense.”

  “I don’t imagine it would. I apologize for acting so unreasonable, but that’s exactly how I feel. So, I’m getting out of here with my pride intact.”

  “Is your pride worth so much?”

  “It’s the only thing I have left,” she said. She’d already given him her heart.