Following Rain Page 19

  She skimmed the rest of the article in disbelief. It was a copy of the newspaper report of the car accident that killed her mother and brother and seriously injured her father.

  Sliding the paper aside, she frantically read the next page.

  Names Released

  The two people killed in the car accident on 143rd Street and Pacific Avenue on Friday evening have been identified as Linda Richards McKenzie, 38, and her son Aaron James McKenzie, 11.

  Anxiously flipping to the next page, she glanced at the bathroom door once again and then continued reading.

  Services Announced

  A private funeral service for Linda McKenzie and her son, Aaron, killed in a two-car collision last Friday, was held yesterday in the Mount Royal Funeral Home. In attendance were the teenage daughter, Raina McKenzie, and her grandmother. We were unable to get a statement from Raina, but it is believed she will be living with her grandmother while she finishes school. Her father, Weldon Charles McKenzie, was unable to attend the services and will remain in the hospital for continued treatment and rehabilitation.

  She finished reading just as the bathroom door opened.

  Smiling warmly, Paul stepped out and brushed a strand of wet hair from his forehead. “I’m ready to go,” he said, holding out his hands as though inviting an appraisal.

  Rain stared at him numbly. The papers began to vibrate in her hands and she parted her lips to speak, but all she could produce was a hoarse groan.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, his smile fading. “Are you all right?”

  Her vision momentarily blurred, and Paul took on the appearance of an ice sculpture melting in the sun. His head and facial features became misshapen and indistinct. The room began to spin, and she suddenly felt lightheaded and nauseous. Bracing herself against the telephone desk, she lost her grip on the file folder. It fell to the floor and the papers fluttered about like plucked feathers.

  Paul stood stock-still, staring at the papers for a moment before lifting his eyes to meet hers. “Rain, it’s not what you think.”

  Finding her voice, she stammered, “You’ve been investigating me?” It was more than a question. It was an accusation.

  “No!” Paul replied, taking a step toward her. “I mean, yes. I mean . . .”

  “What then?” The question was laced with condemnation.

  “I was just trying to learn about you, that’s all. I wanted to get to know you better.”

  “By stalking me? By following me through newspaper articles?” Her voice quivered in outrage.

  “I wasn’t stalking you.”

  She kicked the papers with the toe of her shoe. “Then what do you call this? You used my feelings to try and get close to me. And for what? To do a feature on my dad and me?” She hissed the word feature, and her emotions burst open like a broken pipe.

  “That’s not true, Rain. Please listen to me.” He reached out for her, but she pulled away.

  “Don’t!” she hissed, clenching her teeth. “Just . . . don’t!” She raised a hand to her throat. “And to think I trusted you.”

  He took another step toward her but hesitated when she backed further away. “Rain, you have to believe me. This was not about doing a feature on you.”

  “You’re an investigative reporter, Paul!”

  Wetting his lips, he said, “It was only for my own information. Nothing more. No one else will ever see these pages.”

  “That’s not the point! You’ve invaded my privacy and my family’s. Instead of asking me about it, you went behind my back.”

  Paul exhaled sharply. “Come on, Rain. You wouldn’t have told me even if I’d asked and you know it.”

  “So that justifies snooping into my life? You’re just like all the other reporters. They followed me and hounded me to get a story. But at least they were upfront about it!”

  Gesturing helplessly, Paul said, “Please, Rain. You’ve got to believe me. I never meant to hurt you.”

  “Well, you did!” she snapped, heading for the door. “But it won’t happen again.”

  “Rain, don’t go. Let’s talk about it.”

  “There’s nothing more to say. Everything about you has been a lie!” She raced into the hallway, hot tears stinging her cheeks.

  Paul’s pleas followed her down the stairs and into the lobby. But she blocked them out and hurried onto the front sidewalk, bumping into a man who was carrying a bag of groceries. Vegetables scattered on the concrete, but she didn’t stop to apologize or help gather them up. Her only thought was to get as far away as possible. And stay away.

  As she raced into the night, she made a solemn promise to herself. Never again would she let anyone get that close to her.

  CHAPTER 32

  Paul did not sleep well that night.

  Despite his repeated phone calls, Rain hadn’t—or wouldn’t—answer. Not that he expected her to. It was a Hail Mary attempt at best, but it was in a losing cause. The sustained ringing at the other end of the line indicated that it was game over.

  When his alarm clock cruelly sounded the following morning, he climbed out of bed and staggered to the shower. As the warm water coursed over his tired body, he thought of the last time he had stood in this very spot. It was the previous evening . . . when his world was still intact. He and Rain had been looking forward to finishing their date and later practicing the art of saying good night.

  Now everything was different. Life had changed in an instant. The expression on her face when she confronted him with the contents of the file folder still haunted him.

  He got dressed, grabbed a bagel to eat on the run, and went directly to Welcoming Hands. He planned to take Rain into the conference room and state his case. He had spent the night devising his defense and was prepared to make an impassioned plea.

  Rain wasn’t at the homeless shelter, however. Maria invited him into her office and told him that Rain had called her last night and explained what had happened. “She was very upset,” Maria said, “and asked me what she should do. I told her to take a few days and go somewhere to get her mind off things. Sometimes the best thing we can do is step off the treadmill once in a while and enjoy a change of scenery.”

  “Did she say where she was going?” Paul asked, his spirits sinking to floor level.

  Maria shook her head sympathetically. “She wasn’t sure about it when I talked with her last night, but she called me this morning to tell me where she was going. You could probably find out, Paul, and follow her there, but I would advise against it.”

  Paul slumped against the edge of Maria’s desk and hung his head in self-recrimination. “But it’s all my fault, Maria. I need to talk to her and make things right.”

  Maria tented her fingers thoughtfully, pausing to consider Paul’s statement. “Life is filled with paradoxes, Paul. Sometimes the harder we try, the less we accomplish.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When my ex and I separated before our divorce, all I wanted was some time away from him. He was a womanizer but made promises that he would change. I always took him back, seeking the strength to forgive him. But when he cheated with my best friend, it broke my heart. I realized that he wasn’t going to change, and I wasn’t doing him or myself any favors by allowing him to come back home. I didn’t want to see him or have anything to do with him while I started the divorce proceedings. But then guess what happened?”

  Paul shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

  “He started showing up at my door with flowers and candy and tickets to the movies. He booked a table at my favorite restaurant and wanted to wine and dine me. He sent cards in the mail and even had a large bouquet of sweetheart roses delivered to me here at work.”

  “So he changed? Good for him.”

  Maria looked at Paul in obvious disappointment.

  Paul shifted uncomfortably and weakly said, “He didn’t change?”

  “Let me ask you this, Paul. What did I want—no, what did I need—from him at that point?”
>
  Dropping his gaze, Paul stared at his shoes. “Apparently not flowers or candy or tickets.”

  Maria put a hand gently on his shoulder and stared up into his face. “There’s nothing wrong with a man showing affection through those means, Paul. Under normal circumstances. But the circumstances were no longer normal. So what did I really need from him?”

  Paul began fumbling for an answer, and Maria let him squirm for a moment.

  Finally she said, “I needed him to respect my wish for some time apart. I didn’t need his show of apology, I needed space so I could think through things and come to a decision, free from his attempts to manipulate me.”

  Paul wrinkled his brow.

  “His efforts to bring me things—even though they appeared thoughtful and possibly romantic—only proved that he wasn’t listening to me. He didn’t really care about what I wanted. It was all about what he wanted, and in the end the gifts only drove me further from him. I realized he was trying to buy his way back into my affections. He didn’t understand what I needed from him, and I realized he never would.”

  Running a hand through his hair, Paul straightened up and exhaled slowly. “So what you’re telling me is to back off? To show Rain that I care for her enough to give her space?”

  “The most important thing you can do is respect her feelings and honor her request. The candy and flowers may come in time, but first things first. Let her work through her emotions and calm down. Then maybe you will be able to reason with her. But it will have to wait until she’s ready, I’m afraid.”

  “What if I wait too long? What if things don’t work out?”

  “They didn’t work out between my ex-husband and me. And perhaps they won’t work out for you and Rain, either. But I hope they do.” She smiled consolingly. “You make such a cute couple. And you’ll increase the likelihood of being a couple again if you give her time.”

  Paul left Welcoming Hands crestfallen but grateful for Maria’s counsel. He had gone there with the intention of sitting Rain down and forcing her to listen. And that would have been the worst thing he could have done!

  In search of more moral support, he drove to his parents’ home. After explaining the facts to them, Pricilla looked at her son sympathetically.

  “You’re going to have to regain her trust, son. And that’s something you can’t do by coercion or manipulation. Trust is the basis of a couple’s relationship.” She motioned toward Stan. “I love your father with all my heart. And although we don’t always see things eye to eye, I know that no matter what, he’ll be there for me, just as I hope he knows I’ll be there for him. You’re going to have to rebuild that trust with Rain.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “Start by admitting that you made a serious mistake.”

  Paul grimaced. “I didn’t think it was a mistake at the time. I was just trying to learn about her.”

  Pricilla narrowed her gaze. “You just used the word I twice, son. Try to see things from Rain’s point of view. You may not have thought it was a mistake, but she did.” Arching an eyebrow, she added, “And just for the record, so do I.”

  Sitting back in his chair, Paul scowled guiltily. “Okay, I can see now that it was a mistake. But how do I tell her? She won’t even talk to me.”

  “Be patient. It’s just going to take time and you need to be prepared for that.”

  Paul recognized that his mother was firmly in Maria’s camp, which lent greater credence to the director’s tactful and insightful advice.

  Stan was less tactful. “You blew it, son. Snooping into her life like that. You know what a private person she is. Of course she’s upset. She has every right to be.” Then hesitating a moment, he asked, “By the way, learn anything . . . interesting?”

  Pricilla clicked her tongue indignantly. “Stan!”

  “What?” Stan said. “Our son is a top-notch investigative reporter.”

  Just what Rain said, Paul thought. And look where my curiosity has landed me!

  The following day at the station, Grunge weighed in. “I saw a hawk on a fencepost the other day,” he said. “Do you know what he was doing?”

  Paul shrugged. “Sitting?”

  “Exactly. Hawks are very efficient birds of prey. Instead of flying around and using up all their energy, they sit and wait for dinner to come to them.”

  Paul rolled his eyes. “I’m not looking for dinner, Grunge.”

  “You’re missing the point. You won’t accomplish anything by flying around aimlessly and wasting your energy. Be cool. Sit and be patient. Let her come to you. Remember what they say: ‘Good things come to he who waits.’”

  Paul pursed his lips thoughtfully and returned to his cubicle. Having taken the pulse of the people he knew and trusted the most, he decided he had no other option but to wait and see.

  But first there was something he needed to do. After taking out a piece of paper, he drummed the pen on the desktop for inspiration. Then, slowly and deliberately, he began to write.

  CHAPTER 33

  Rain intended to travel until she and Charlie fell off the edge of the earth, but boarding an express bus and traveling to Tacoma was as far as they got. Going further didn’t dull her anger or lessen the hurt. Besides, she couldn’t afford the luxury of staying in hotels for too long, not when her budget provided little wiggle room.

  Tacoma was where it had started, but other than her annual pilgrimage with Charlie to Oakwood Cemetery, she never went there. Too many memories. But despite her plans to head in the opposite direction, she found herself inexorably drawn there.

  She resisted the impulse at first. For a long time she had been running from the past. The only trouble was, it wasn’t possible to run fast enough or go far enough away. The memories were woven into the fabric of her soul. They lurked in the back recesses of her mind and frequently emerged to invade her nighttime dreams. Sometimes they surfaced when a seemingly insignificant event occurred, which inexplicably turned the key in the door of her memory and flung it wide open. Closing the door and relocking it came at a price, however, and the emotional bruises took weeks to disappear. If they ever really disappeared at all.

  During the bus ride, she tried to convince herself that submitting to the impulse to go to Tacoma was for the best. Paul had crossed a line, and staying in Seattle and grappling with his betrayal was asking too much at the moment. She had to get away. And perhaps, paradoxically, she could find solace in Tacoma, the place of her greatest pain.

  Yes, Paul had betrayed her by investigating her past. But the fact that he could do so indicated she had a past. Everyone did, of course, but hers was a dark one. She sometimes tried to convince herself that the events surrounding the car accident were fictitious—a storyline in a novel of tragedy and anguish that she’d read somewhere. And she could almost convince herself it was a fabrication . . . until she looked at Charlie. Then the enormity of what had occurred overwhelmed her and dispelled the pretense altogether.

  Perhaps it was time to take a stand and face her demons, confronting the issues and granting them power over her no longer. But the thought of doing so terrified her. How could she revisit the darkest hour of her life? Clenching her teeth, she struggled with herself as the bus continued southward.

  When she and Charlie arrived in Tacoma, Rain could hardly bring herself to get out of her seat. She suddenly wanted to go somewhere else, anywhere else, but Charlie sprang up and headed for the door.

  “I remember this place, Rain,” he said. “We came here before. Come on, let’s go eat. I’m hungry.”

  Rain reluctantly followed.

  They went to a McDonald’s—Charlie’s request—and ordered two garden salads—Rain’s request—and two cheeseburgers for Charlie. Rain picked through her salad and hardly touched a bite. Her mind was far away.

  “Are you sad, Rain?” Charlie asked, between mouthfuls.

  Until now she had tried to hide her emotions from him, but she felt too tired and drained to continue doing so. �
��Yes,” she replied. “But not because I’m here with you,” she added quickly.

  “Are you sad because of Linda and Aaron?”

  Rain’s mouth dropped open in utter surprise. “Y—you remember them?”

  Charlie shook his head. “No, but I read their names. They were written on the headstones.”

  Studying him carefully, she asked, “Do you remember anything about them?”

  “They were flat and shiny and had names and numbers on them.”

  Rain smiled thinly. “I meant, do you remember anything about Linda and Aaron?”

  Charlie shook his head again. “Nope. Were they your friends? Is that why you get sad when we go there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Were they my friends, too?”

  “Yes, they were.”

  Chewing in thought for a moment, Charlie said, “Maybe that’s why I feel something here”—he touched his chest—“when I go there with you.” He took another bite of his cheeseburger and then asked, “Do you miss them?”

  Rain swallowed hard. “Every day.”

  “Will you tell me about them?”

  There it was. The question she had expected in the cemetery that day. It hadn’t come then because obviously Charlie wasn’t ready to pursue it. Was he ready now?

  Choosing her words carefully, she said, “Linda was a beautiful woman. She had soft, brown hair and her blue eyes always sparkled when she laughed. She was kind and caring, and she loved watching romantic movies. They always made her cry.” Rain paused for a moment, remembering. “She enjoyed reading and belonged to a book club. She loved to read poetry and wrote a few poems herself. She enjoyed making jewelry—bracelets and necklaces—and selling them at craft sales. She took good care of her family and loved them very much.”

  “She sounds like a good friend.”

  Rain nodded. “She was.”

  “And Aaron?”

  She paused momentarily, struggling with her emotions. “He was a boy who loved music. He listened to his iPod and sang along with his favorite songs. He loved sports and played soccer and baseball. He had freckles on his nose and had brown hair and brown eyes.” Her voice cracked. “He loved to play jokes on people, and when he laughed, his cheeks turned bright red.” A sob rattled in her throat. “He liked to read and go to movies. And he loved to play video games with his dad.”