Raising Rain (16 page)

She went out to help him carry in his stuff, and hugged him hard, planting a kiss on his cheek. He hugged back one-armed and popped open his trunk. Inside were two baskets full of dirty laundry. He deposited them in the laundry room before following the scent of chocolate into the kitchen where the brownies sat cooling on the counter.

He poured a glass of milk, positioned himself at the counter in front of the plate of brownies, and complained about the traffic he'd encountered. “I think I'll wait until 8:00 to leave Monday night after the traffic has cleared out.”

“That reminds me,” Bebe said. “Grandma's planning a barbeque for Monday.”

He winced. “I told Tyler that I'd go with him to Nicole's on Monday. Her parents are having a cookout and a pool party, and Zach and some other guys are home from school. I kind of promised to go.”

“Oh, okay.” Bebe was not so much disappointed that he wouldn't be going to her mom's, as the fact that she wouldn't be seeing much of him all Monday. “Don't worry about it. But you should call your grandma sometime this weekend to say hello.”

He agreed, and after he had downed four brownies and the milk, he put in a load of laundry and kicked off his shoes in front of the television.

It turned out that he had plans for that night also, but they insisted that he at least have dinner with them first. He quickly agreed, especially since they were paying.

He came in late after seeing the movie with Tyler, said good night, and headed for his room. It seemed odd to Bebe how fast she and Neil had gotten used to being alone after Dylan left for school. Now his belongings were strewn between the family room, the kitchen, and his bedroom, as if he were reestablishing his territory.

The weekend passed quickly and Bebe enjoyed spending time with Dylan whenever she could. He said he was starting a new job as a bagger in a grocery store when he returned to school. Bebe encouraged him to check at the student union to find on-campus Bible studies and Christian groups to plug into, and he said that he would.

They went their separate ways on Monday; Neil and Bebe to her mom's and Dylan to his friend's pool party. She made him promise that he would come home long enough to say good-bye before he drove back on Monday night. Bebe breathed a sigh of relief when her mother said that her brother Bobby had left town for the weekend and wouldn't be there. Everyone wanted to know if she'd heard how Scott was doing. She and Neil left the cookout early so they could be home when Dylan came by to pack up his clothes and go back to school. It was still hard to say good-bye to him, and she made him promise to request time off for Scott's graduation in October. Dylan said that he had made that stipulation when they hired him, and the store was willing to let him have the time off to support his brother.

After he drove away, she straightened his room, which left her missing him more. She'd made him promise to call when he arrived, since he'd gotten a late start, and the phone startled her awake two hours later. He was safe and sound, and said he'd had a fun weekend at home. He even said, “Love you, Mom.”

Later in the week, there was another brief letter from Scott, and while Bebe was happy to get it, she again sensed that he was distant. Different. He mentioned that Rain had written, and that he'd heard from Uncle Bobby again.

Bebe sank into a chair at the kitchen table with the letter in her hand and stared at the words. There were several reasons why Bobby would write to Scott, and not all of them were for encouragement and support. Some reasons were bitter and selfish. He still had ghosts following him from his tour of duty, and from his homecoming, and a grudge that he continued to nurse. Perhaps he was entitled, if it brought him some comfort. But her part in it was exaggerated, and he wouldn't let it go. It overshadowed every family gathering, whether Bobby was
there or not. She wondered if he realized that his bitterness could affect Scott's morale.

Bebe had ghosts, too. Some that he and the family knew nothing about and never would. But she owed it to her son to try to exorcise this one.

She picked up her stationery and addressed the letter to Scott. She began, “I don't know if you're aware that your Uncle Bobby has suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder and that he has a problem with substance abuse. He was drafted into the army at a very difficult time in America. Please share with me what he wrote.”

R
ain spent Saturday afternoon with Jude. She brought Thai takeout for their lunch, but the strong flavors proved to be too much for Jude's queasy stomach. It had never occurred to Rain that her mother might have a problem with her once-favorite food, and she felt like a bad daughter. She offered to pick up something else, but Jude said that she wasn't hungry.

Jude gave some vague reason for William's absence, giving Rain the impression that she either didn't believe him or was angry. She was up and around, looking thin and wan, wearing a stylish velour pantsuit, with her thinning hair tucked under a soft turban.

They watched a documentary about the effects of global warming on the penguin population and surfed the channels for news. They made small talk, and finally Rain asked her mother how she was doing. Jude settled back into the corner of the couch and dismissed the topic of her health as hardly worth mentioning.

“So,” she asked Rain, “what news on the dating front?”

Rain swirled her iced tea. “Not much. I went to a concert with a
coworker.” She shrugged. “It was nice, but there's nothing there. We probably won't go out again.”

Jude chuckled. “Since when does there have to be ‘something there' to go out with a man? I certainly never made that part of the criteria.”

Rain lowered her eyes and answered, “That was you, Mother. I'm more . . . discerning.”

“Discerning? Why, are you looking for a husband?” Jude had obviously meant it as a joke, but it fell flat, and she said, “You
are
looking for a husband.”

“No,” Rain said. “I am not looking for a husband. I just meant that I don't enjoy going out with someone just to . . . to . . . ” Rain realized she had to tread carefully here. “If it's not someone I really enjoy being with, I'd rather be home.”

“Home with Moses, or Elijah, or whatever that vicious cat's name is.”

“Noah.”

“How did you ever let Bebe talk you into naming him after some dusty Bible character?”

“He came with the name. He was rescued from a drainage ditch—”

“Yes, yes, I remember. The point is, you're a beautiful, capable woman and you shouldn't be sitting at home with the cat. You should be out spreading your wings, so to speak. Taking charge of your sexuality.”

“Mother.” Rain looked at Jude, exasperated. “Can we change the subject, please?”

“All right, how is Hayden?”

Rain narrowed her eyes at Jude.

“Well, if you're not going to tell me anything, I have to ask.” Jude ran her finger around the rim of her glass. “I'll bet Bebe knows everything.”

Rain stood and held out her hand for Jude's empty glass. “No, she doesn't.” It was true—she hadn't seen Bebe in days. Jude handed over the glass and she refilled it in the kitchen.

She didn't want her mother to feel slighted, so when she returned with the freshened drink, she added, “Hayden and I had a disagreement,
and it's something neither one of us will give in about. And that's all I'm going to say.”

Jude lifted a hand of dismissal while she took a sip. “How's your job going? This seems like the perfect time to go back to law school. You have plenty of time on your hands.”

Rain shook her head and laughed. “I am perfectly satisfied being a paralegal. I have no interest in going to law school, and you know it.” Rain suddenly wondered whether she had avoided law school to consciously confound her mother's plans for her, or whether she sensed that it was as close as she'd wanted to come to being like her.

“But you shouldn't settle when you have so much potential. You owe it to—”

“Don't give me your second wave feminist guilt about not reaching my potential—”

“And don't give me your third wave excuses for not properly shouldering your responsibility to society.”

Rain's voice rose in frustration. “So how does it help society when you win a case for Billings & Coombe that saves pharmaceutical companies from having to pay settlements to victims who are entitled to it?”

Jude looked momentarily stunned, but quickly recovered. “Well, touché. Just don't let your employers take advantage of you, or pass you over for a promotion because you're a woman.”

“Mom, gender discrimination's not legal anymore.”

Jude punctuated her response with a pointed finger. “It's not legal because women fought for the passage of Title VII. You've never worked in a world where your right to equal pay for equal jobs wasn't a given.”

“Yes, Mom, thank you. And I'll pass my appreciation along to Toni, Mare, and Bebe when I see them. I didn't come over here to argue, you know.”

“Who's arguing?”

At that moment, the front door opened and William came in with grocery sacks.

“What's all the shouting about? Can't I leave you two alone for an hour without finding World War III going on?”

He passed by the couch and gently tapped Rain on the top of the head on his way to the kitchen.

“I was just about to tell Rain that it wasn't arguing. It was stimulating banter,” Jude told him.

“Stimulating banter,” he repeated dryly. He pulled cereal boxes and cans from the bag.

“Can I give you a hand?” Rain offered.

“I've got it. Thanks,” he said, giving her a wink on the sly.

“I can't stay long. Mom, are you still planning to meet us two weeks from today at Dulcinea's?”

“Of course. I wouldn't miss planning my own funeral.”

Rain scowled. “I wish you wouldn't talk like that.”

“I'm sorry. Celebration, then. I wouldn't miss planning my own celebration.”

Jude glanced over to where William was methodically filling cupboards with his purchases. “William has no objections to discussing my funeral.”

Rain looked over at William. He paused momentarily with his hand on the knob of a cabinet with his back to them. “Whatever makes you happy.” He pulled it open and placed a can on the shelf, label front, next to another can of the same height and straightened them both.

Jude continued to watch him with veiled eyes. She started to comment, but Rain interrupted.

“I need to be getting back,” Rain said, sliding her arms into her jacket and tugging her sleeves down.

“Oh, by all means, hurry back to Noah. He's probably wondering where you are.”

Rain flipped her hair out of her collar and reached down to give Jude a peck on the cheek. “I'm ignoring that. Remember, two weeks from today at Dulcinea's.” Rain looked over at William.

“I'll make sure she's there,” he said.

“I can get there myself, thank you,” Jude said, rising unsteadily from the couch. She stood tall and braced herself on the back of the chair beside her.

Rain glanced back to wave at William. He gave her a sweet smile as she left.

Janice—Dr. Owens—called in sick at the veterinary clinic on Tuesday, which was, unfortunately, her day for surgery, and Bebe switched days with her. It meant sandwiching in her own appointments that she couldn't reschedule, and she felt under the gun. She spent time briefly familiarizing herself with the files of Janice's patients before scrubbing for surgery.

Her last surgery of the day was for Dinah, a feral cat who had just weaned a litter of kittens the month before. The adoptive owners wanted to ensure she didn't have another litter, so it was imperative that the cat be spayed as soon as possible. Although they assured the staff that the cat had not been around any males and could not possibly be pregnant, they expressed a desire that any pregnancy be terminated, if found. Bebe proceeded with the surgery, only to find that the cat was, indeed, pregnant with two-week-old fetuses. Bebe paused and considered her options. She could refuse to continue the procedure, but she knew it was very possible that the owners may simply abandon Dinah and the kittens if Bebe were to leave the pregnancy intact. She proceeded with the surgery, even though she wasn't comfortable with their decision.