Between the Raindrops

by Schussler, Susan

  When she finally looked up from her phone, Brandon was back at the other end of the table, his expression sullen. Most of her coworkers were chatting again, but Keera was glaring at her with venomous hate in her eyes. She had probably read the tabloid story that came out on Monday—the one that claimed the Birthday Girl had shattered Jonathan’s heart. Either people hated her for dating him or they hated her for not dating him. Sarah couldn’t win.

  She tried to get back into the conversation, but all she really wanted was to go home and talk to Will. She stayed another half hour before thanking everyone for the card and the party. After another ten minutes of hugs and good-byes, she was finally headed to her car.

  She quietly snuck into the house, avoiding her mother. If Kate saw her talking to Will, she would ask a million questions. The entire time Sarah and Will were dating before the breakup, Kate cut out magazine articles, newspaper clippings, anything she could find about Jonathan Williams and glued them in a scrapbook for Sarah. Every time Sarah saw her mom, Kate pressed her on the validity of each story. Sarah lectured her mom a couple of times about how little of the information out there was real, but it didn’t seem to slow down Kate. After the breakup, Kate stopped paying attention to the tabloids, and Sarah felt relieved. If she found out that Sarah was still talking to Will, it would all start back up again.

  No, thank you, she thought.

  When Will’s face flashed to life on her computer screen, all of Sarah’s worries seemed to disappear. Their conversation flowed smoothly, as always. And Sarah finally felt relaxed as she listened to his sexy voice and watched his vibrant eyes follow her—that was, until Sarah’s bedroom door flew open and Jessica plopped down next to her on the bed.

  “Hi, Will,” Jessica said curtly as she leaned into view of the camera on Sarah’s laptop. “So what the hell are you doing to Sarah? I mean, you guys broke up, and here you are telling her you love her? You need to stop messing with her. She doesn’t need this.”

  “It’s great to see you too, Jess.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Maybe you should talk to Sarah.”

  Jessica turned to Sarah and accusingly asked, “So are you back together, then?”

  “We didn’t really break up. We’re just on a break,” Sarah said in a rush, not wanting to waste any of her Will-time.

  “But you still talk to each other? How does that work?”

  “Well, we don’t talk every day, just once in a while. It helps us get through until we can be together again,” Sarah explained with a look that she hoped blared, Not now.

  Jessica scowled. “I’ll let you guys talk, but Sarah, we’re having a conference when you’re done. Sorry I jumped all over you, Will,” Jessica stated and rolled off the bed into a standing position.

  When Sarah came downstairs an hour and a half later, she was a little surprised to see her friends lined up on the couch waiting for her.

  “Is it a break, or did you break up?” questioned Alli. “Are you getting back together with Will?”

  “It’s just a break until we can physically be together. We never intended to break up. We love each other.”

  “How convenient. You two take a break so he can cheat on you while he’s in Europe,” added Megan. “I suppose he still needs it, even when he can’t get any from you.”

  “God, you’re jaded, Megan. Did Chase really hurt you that badly?” asked Jessica.

  Megan squinted her eyes. “That was three years ago. I’m over it. I guess I just don’t understand the concept of a break if the reason isn’t to date other people.”

  “It’s not that kind of break,” stated Sarah.

  “What other kind of break is there?” asked Alli. “Is he the one who called it a break? Because dating other people is kind of the definition of a break.”

  “It’s just to keep the questions at bay so I can cope while we’re apart, and to give him a chance to get into his role,” explained Sarah.

  “So he can get into his role with his costar, Rachel Marrero? He’s probably practicing those sex scenes for the movie,” added Megan.

  “Shut up, Megan,” whispered Sarah. “Nothing has changed. It’s not like we would get to see each other anyway.”

  “I think you’re deluding yourself,” declared Alli. “A break is just a pass to cheat.”

  “Think whatever you want. I know what it is!” Sarah uttered in frustration.

  Even though she defended their break as just a way to cope, she was starting to have doubts. Is it really just a pass to cheat while we’re apart? She couldn’t believe that was true, but maybe that was common practice in Hollywood. That was how the tabloids made it sound. She didn’t know what to think anymore. She recycled the thoughts over and over in her head.

  Sarah missed Will more than ever after that night. She was starting to have reservations about their relationship. Her past told her not to trust that he would be faithful, but her heart didn’t want to believe he would cheat. She knew that loneliness and cheating were the reasons why long-distance relationships often failed. Will had once told her that he didn’t believe in two-timing, but would it be two-timing if they were on a break?

  Sarah really wished she could see Will, to touch his face and ask him what a break meant, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. She craved to see him before school started, though she knew he was working and wouldn’t have any time for a visit.

  On August 28, Sarah and her friends went to the state fair as planned. The sun burned warm without a cloud in the sky. The fairgrounds were filling up. Fair attendance had reached 160,000 people yesterday, and by the looks of it, today would be just as crowded. The streets swelled with endless strollers and tattooed bodies as Sarah looked out over the vast spread of the land. She was wearing Will’s T-shirt tied at her waist, exposing just a hint of skin. His shirt made her feel at ease, as if he was there with her, strolling around the grounds and people watching with her and her friends.

  The girls made their way to the coliseum and watched the first fifteen minutes of an English riding competition. The horses were majestic and beautifully adorned as they sauntered around the dirt arena, kicking up dust, but the girls weren’t really interested in the horse show, so they decided to move on. They strolled through the animal barns on their way out of the arena, feeling sympathy for the farm and ranch kids who had beds made up in the empty stalls next to their show animals. The girls couldn’t imagine sleeping with the gamy smell that lingered inescapably in the air of the large building, and of course, Megan couldn’t stop complaining about the stench.

  They meandered to the animal birthing barn, where they watched some piglets emerge from a giant sow on a large-screen television above the birthing pen. The crowd around the pen was too dense to allow them to see the birth up close, but the screen provided a better view anyway. The piglets were pink and adorable after they had been cleaned off, and the girls joked about sneaking one into Alli’s massive purse. They petted the baby chicks that bounced around the raised chicken pen, and marveled at how large an expectant cow could get.

  Next, the girls headed to the butterfly house, where they watched as thousands of butterflies and moths of all different colors and sizes floated elegantly in the exhibit around them. Beautiful, fragrant plants filled the room, and the delicate insects fanned the air as they clung to the florae. The girls enjoyed the serene atmosphere, away from the crowds outside, for several minutes, until a shiny blue-winged butterfly attempted to make a nest in Megan’s golden hair and the girls were asked to leave because Megan was caught swatting the bug.

  At lunchtime, they shared all kinds of food—after all, that was why they had come to the fair. The smell of it had been taunting them all morning. It was food they could only find or eat once a year—minidonuts, deep-fried cheese curds, foot-long corndogs, pork chops on a stick, and corn on the cob roasted right in the husk. They drank enormous glasses of ice-cold lemonade that were squeezed fresh as they watched.

  After lunch, they relished th
e air-conditioning as they browsed the vendor booths beneath the grandstand. The climate-controlled building displayed boats, jewelry, makeup, vacuum cleaners, and even cookware. When they reached the second floor, Alli found a booth with leather goods that were actually made in the USA, and she bought a large lemon-colored saddlebag purse made of glove leather. The girls seemed obsessed as they all ran their hands over it, admiring the soft, smooth feel of the leather, and they wouldn’t stop touching it until Alli shoved it back into the shopping bag. Finally, they stopped by the midway and rode a couple of overpriced rides while they reminisced about their trips to the fair as teenagers. They remembered how they used to scope out guys at the midway, and they shuddered at the memory of some of the gross guys they had met.

  By seven o’clock, hunger, thirst, and exhaustion convinced the girls to take refuge at a beer garden to replenish. They stood in line, got their food, and grabbed a table from a couple loading up their double stroller, getting ready to leave. The band was just starting up inside the tent as they sat down, but their table was far enough away from the speakers that they could still talk.

  After about ten minutes, three good-looking guys came over and playfully begged to share the girls’ table. They each carried a stray chair, but there were no tables open. The guys hoped Sarah and her friends would be accommodating. The girls reluctantly agreed—some less reluctant than others. It sounded like a pickup line to Sarah, but she gave them an A for effort. The guys were seniors from the University of St. Thomas and seemed balanced enough. They flirted for quite a while with the girls, and when the guys got up to get another round of beverages for everyone, Megan ambushed Sarah.

  “What is your problem, girl? These guys are really nice.”

  “I’m just not interested in dating right now,” admitted Sarah.

  “You’re on a break, Sarah,” said Megan. “That Drew guy seems to really like you. He lives here, and he’s hot. He hinted that he wants your number. Why don’t you give it to him?”

  Sarah looked at Jessica and rolled her eyes. She took a deep breath, looked Megan in the face, and smiled insincerely. “I’m not ready to date anyone else.”

  “Why not? You can’t just sit around moping. He initiated the break. Going out with other people is what he wants you to do, or he wouldn’t have called it a break. Don’t be a doormat.” Megan paused to suck in a breath and then continued, not giving her a chance to respond. “What’s stopping you? I’m going to put your number in his phone if you don’t.”

  “Just let it go—please,” pleaded Sarah. She looked wide-eyed at Jessica as if to say, A little help here.

  “Come on, Sarah, why not?” asked Alli. “A good Catholic boy from St. Thomas? He doesn’t seem to have any critical flaws. We could double-date.” One of the other guys had been flirting with her. “It’s just a date. If you’re on a break, it’s not cheating. It’s just filling time. That’s what you used to do before Will, anyway.”

  “Sarah, it’s OK to date other people when you’re on a break. That’s what a break is for,” declared Megan. “Otherwise, you’d just say you’re in a long-distance relationship, which I noticed you didn’t mention. You know Will’s utilizing this break. You’ve seen the pictures.”

  Sarah’s head flopped back in exasperation. Megan had showed her some pictures on a gossip site of Will out with his costar. It looked like they were having an intimate dinner, but Will said the whole cast had been out together that night. She wished her friends hadn’t seen the pictures. Believing him was easier without their input.

  Jessica looked at Sarah and muttered under her breath, “A break’s a break.”

  Sarah glared at Jessica with a look of betrayal. Et tu, Brute? She thought Jessica understood, but now she was siding with the other girls.

  “All right, I’ll give him my number,” she whispered, not believing what she was saying. She hoped her friends were wrong. She didn’t know what to believe. Was she being naive thinking Will was ever faithful? Why would he call it a break? She was shredded inside. She knew she couldn’t resolve it herself. She had always listened to her friends until Will.

  Jessica touched Sarah’s arm to encourage her. “Just enjoy yourself. They’re nice guys—and you’re on a break. Just try.” Her expression twisted sympathetically.

  They were on a break. He had called it a break. So Sarah put on her best poker face and tried to push Will out of her head.

  By the time Sarah’s classes started and a few weeks had passed, Will was going crazy not seeing her. They hadn’t spoken in over a week, and their last conversation was really short—less than fifteen minutes. Although he’d been busy working, he thought about Sarah all the time. The last two weeks had been grueling for him. There were five hand-to-hand combat scenes in the film, and the director wanted them all fought on location, not on green screen. So Will worked what seemed like nonstop to learn the choreography well enough to reproduce it on set. He had spent the last two days in a wire harness, with the circulation in his legs cut off for hours, practicing jumps and flips. The harness cut into his skin, and he had a big bruise on his right shoulder that he wasn’t aware of until one of the crew pointed it out to him. Even with all the prep work and training he had done prior to preproduction, Will was still exhausted. Every muscle in his body ached, and the director had ordered him to rest on his day off. He wasn’t going to rest, though. He knew what he needed to do—not just because he missed Sarah, but because he needed to know the truth too.

  He unfolded the picture from his wallet that he had printed off the Internet. He didn’t want to believe it was real, but it looked too good to be a fake. There she was, his girlfriend, in the arms of another man. The guy was so close to her ear that he could have been leaning in to kiss her. That’s what it looked like, anyway. He read the tag again: It looks like the Birthday Girl has moved on from Jonathan Williams. The candid shot had been posted on a celebrity photo dumpsite, where he’d run across it by accident.

  He knew how deceiving photos could be, but he didn’t know what to make of it. So on his one day off before he left for filming in Greece, he jumped on a flight to see Sarah and gain back his sanity. He figured he would have eighteen hours of actual time with her, and he didn’t really care what they did as long as they were together. He needed to see her eyes when he asked her. This wasn’t something he could bring up on the phone or online. Sarah’s face, her body, always revealed what she was feeling. He needed to know, and he longed to be with her.

  He called Jessica to make sure Sarah would be home for his surprise visit, and arranged to have Jessica pick him up at the airport. He made it through the airport fairly easily. He was only recognized a couple of times. He graciously signed autographs and smiled for a couple of pictures. Jessica met him at the curb, and as soon as they pulled away from the sidewalk, he felt the relief he’d learned to appreciate that came with leaving a very public place.

  When Sarah got home from class, Jessica revealed that there was a package waiting for her on her bed. Immediately, Sarah hustled up the narrow hundred-year-old stairs to see what it was. She knew it had to be from Will. Her mother hadn’t mentioned mailing anything to her. She flung open the heavy white six-panel door and saw not a package, but Will lying on her bed with his arms folded behind his head. He wore jeans and a blue button-down oxford with the sleeves rolled up. His shirt color made his eyes pop with an irresistible luminosity, like the ocean on a sunny day. With a huge smile on his face, he held out his arms, and she jumped into them, dissolving into his torso. They held each other for several seconds without a word, just enjoying the comfort of the other’s touch.

  She couldn’t believe he was actually there. She crushed her face into his chest. “Don’t wake up. Don’t wake up,” she whispered softly. “I must have fallen asleep on the bus. It’s OK. I can ride the bus all day. Just…Don’t. Wake. Up.”

  “Sarah, I’m really here,” he whispered, his lips softly caressing her hair.

  “Hmm, that’s ex
actly what he would say. This is such a good dream. I can even smell him, and he smells so good, just like I remember. Please don’t wake up,” she muttered softly.

  “I’m really here, beautiful,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m real,” he whispered in her ear before nipping it.

  Finally, Sarah slowly opened her lids and saw his magnificent blue eyes with the thick lashes staring back at her. “My dreams are never, ever this good,” she uttered with a smirk. She shook her head. “How?”

  “I’m just living my life, like you told me to do.”

  “But you leave for Greece tomorrow.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’ll be on a plane for, like, ever.”

  “So? I get to see you. It’s worth it,” he said sweetly with his perfect one-dimple smile.

  “Thanks.” She sighed. She knew the sacrifice he was making to see her, and she was truly grateful.

  “I love you, Sarah,” Will declared intensely.

  “I’m glad, because I missed you so much.” She snuggled into the crook of his muscular arm and squeezed her arm across his chest.

  “That’s why I’m here.” He turned to look at her and brushed her hair out of her face. He stared into her eyes like he was studying her—his eyes vibrant, but questioning.

  With her middle finger, she reached up and touched the dimple, which still lingered on his cheek. Then, slowly, she moved her hand to the stubble on his jawline, pausing there a few seconds, drawing circles, before she progressed to his mouth. She traced the pad of her finger gently across his lips until he kissed it. Then she brought her hand to his head and ran her fingers through his darker-than-usual locks as she lost herself in his eyes.