Following Rain Page 20

  She sniffed into her napkin and thought how liberating it felt to talk about her mother and brother like this. Their names had been sealed on her lips for a long time, but their identities—who they were and what they meant to her—had been locked away even longer.

  Charlie reached over and took hold of her hand. “I’m sorry they went away, Rain. But don’t worry. We still have each other, right?”

  Squeezing his hand in reply, she answered, “Yes, we do, Charlie.”

  In the spirit of that bond, they spent the next three days sightseeing and enjoying their time together. This included more meals at McDonald’s, going to an afternoon movie, swimming in the hotel’s pool, and visiting the Point Defiance Zoo & Aquarium. Charlie became obsessed with the seahorses at the aquarium and had to look them up on Google, using the hotel’s guest computer.

  They also did something Rain had avoided for ten years: visiting the home of her girlhood. It was a watershed moment, and although it brought back painful memories, it also resurrected many pleasant ones, which counterbalanced things.

  She stood beside the white picket fence that ran the length of the yard. The wood had weathered badly and several pickets were missing. Weeds dotted the once lush and well-maintained lawn. The paint on the house was cracked and peeling, and the shingles were in need of replacement. It was disheartening to see the run-down condition of the place.

  But her memories of it involved more than its physical attributes. She remembered watching TV programs as a family with a bowl of popcorn nestled between them . . . playing board games . . . visiting around the dinner table . . . helping her dad fix something in his tiny workshop in the garage and having him hug her and say, “What a big girl you’re getting, Pumpkin” . . . baking cookies with her mother . . . and having friends sleep over and staying up most of the night, laughing and talking. These were happy memories from childhood.

  But when she became a teen, things changed. She changed. It was no longer cool to watch TV or play board games with her family. It was more fun to visit her friends and gossip about the cute boys. It embarrassed her when her dad called her Pumpkin in front of her friends, and who could be bothered learning how to cook? You just popped a frozen pizza in the oven. And rather than having friends sleep over, where her little brother could pester them, she wanted to go to their homes. The more time she could spend away from her family the better. Too little privacy; too many rules.

  As Rain stood looking at the house now, she felt her cheeks burn in shame as she remembered how moody and difficult she was at that age. But despite everything, her parents continued to love and care for her. And a prime example of their concern was the night her dad came to the door at the party to bring her home, while her mother and brother waited in the car.

  Rain pulled back from the memories and put a trembling hand to her mouth. For a moment she thought she was going to lose it. Just being here and seeing the place again made the memories, both good and bad, so vivid. As she struggled with her emotions, she suddenly looked around and realized Charlie was no longer standing beside her. “Charlie?” she called, scanning the sidewalk, up and down. “Charlie, where are you?”

  She had only taken her eyes off him for what seemed but a moment, although in reality it was probably much longer, and he had wandered away. If he got lost in the neighborhood, there’s no telling how she would find him.

  “Charlie?” she called again.

  When there was still no answer, she hurried down the sidewalk to the far side of the yard, craning her neck from side to side in a desperate attempt to locate him.

  Much to her relief, she found him standing at an overgrown flowerbed beside the detached garage, on the far side of the house. Hurrying up to him, she calmed her voice and said, “Charlie, don’t wander away. You might get lost.”

  “I was just looking for daisies.”

  “Daisies?”

  “Yeah, those tall, white flowers. I like daisies and I thought there might be some.” He gestured toward the flowerbed.

  “There aren’t any daisies here.” But then she suddenly remembered that there used to be daisies in this very spot. Her mother had a beautiful flowerbed full of them. “Do you remember the daisies, Charlie?”

  He shrugged. “I just wanted to pick one for you.”

  Rain gently stroked his cheek. “That’s sweet. Thank you.”

  She surveyed the yard a moment longer, taking it in one last time. Then she said, “Come on, Charlie. It’s time to go.”

  As they continued their walk through the neighborhood, Rain’s emotions remained close to the surface. She gazed at the once-familiar area and was moved to be reconnecting with a few memories of long ago. But she couldn’t bring herself to visit the accident scene, however. There were some things she was not ready—and perhaps never would be ready—to face.

  Still, she felt a certain degree of triumph. And even during the bus ride home Sunday evening, she basked in the success of her sentimental journey, despite the fact that she was still hurt and angry with Paul. The pathway toward healing necessitated taking baby steps on occasion, and sometimes it even involved standing still and taking a breather. But for the first time in years she could acknowledge personal progress.

  Some of the good feeling dissipated, however, when they arrived home and she checked the mail. There were several bills and a large manila envelope. Her heart sank when she opened the bills and noted the totals. Why does everything keep going up except my wages? she lamented. The three-day vacation had been good, even necessary, but it came with a price tag. This month’s budget was already shot.

  After filing the bills, she turned her attention to the large manila envelope. Buff in color, it was securely sealed and bore a postmark but no return address. The thickness indicated that it contained several sheets of paper.

  She opened it carefully and removed the top page. It was a handwritten letter, in blue ink, addressed to her. She quickly scanned its contents and noticed Paul’s signature at the bottom.

  The embers of her anger fanned back into life, and she dropped the letter on the floor. The sense of hurt and the feeling of betrayal grew in intensity, and she got up and paced back and forth. She didn’t want to see Paul or talk to him or even read a letter from him. And yet, strangely, her running from him had led her to a major reconciliation with her past. Was what he had done really so bad?

  “Yes, it was!” she said aloud, causing Charlie to look up from his computer game and stare at her blankly.

  “It’s okay, Charlie,” she replied. “I was just talking to myself.”

  When he refocused on his game, she glanced at the letter and then went into the bedroom to unpack. When she came back into the living room, her eyes went to the letter again. Pulling herself into the kitchen, she made Charlie a peanut butter and jam sandwich as a bedtime snack and then wandered back into the living room. She bent down to pick up the letter but instead marched herself into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

  She got Charlie off the computer and made him get ready for bed. When he was finally under the covers and snoring softly, she wandered back into the living room and sat on the couch. The letter and the manila envelope lay where she had dropped them.

  Finally she exhaled in resignation and picked up the letter. Steeling herself, she read it slowly.

  October 16, 2013

  Dear Rain:

  I hardly know where to begin. There are so many things I want to say, but mostly I want to say, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, and the fact that I have done so is tearing at my insides. The look of betrayal in your eyes when you found my research notes still haunts me.

  If I could go back and do things over again, I would. But since that’s not possible, I can only try and repair the damage I’ve done and regain the trust I’ve lost. I thought I was so clever in doing research and finding out about you. Paul Blakely, award-winning investigative reporter! Turns out the person I really needed to find out about was myself.

  I�
�ve done a lot of soul-searching. I talked with Maria and my parents. And to show you how desperate I am, I even talked to Grunge. They all agree on one thing: I’m a jerk. They didn’t come right out and say it, of course, but I got the message.

  I took the most beautiful and courageous and private woman I’ve ever met and used her like a research project, prying into her life when I had no business doing so. I could try and defend my actions. Actually, I did try and defend them by saying that it was just a force of habit. But that’s a lame excuse. There is no excuse for what I did, and I don’t blame you for being angry. My only hope is that you can forgive me and grant me another chance.

  I know this can’t happen overnight. Perhaps it can’t even happen at all. I’ve broken your trust and I’m not sure how to repair it. But there is one thing I can do to show you my sincerity. You said you didn’t want to see me or talk to me anymore. I’ll honor your request and not call you or try to see you again. I’ll let you call me, if and when you want to. But please understand that each day without you is one more day I will hardly be able to face.

  The research papers are in the envelope. They are the only copies, and I haven’t shown them to anyone. They are yours to keep, along with my deepest regrets. And love. Paul

  Tears were running down her cheeks by the time Rain finished reading the letter. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and picked up the envelope. The research notes were inside, as Paul indicated, and she set the letter aside and leafed through them, one by one.

  Although her visit to Tacoma with Charlie had been a major step forward, she wasn’t ready to deal with the memories that the pages brought vividly to her mind.

  After stuffing the research notes back into the envelope, she picked up the letter to put it away, also. Her eyes fell on the line: I’ll honor your request and not contact you or try to see you again.

  She hesitated and clutched the letter to her chest. Is that what she truly wanted? To never see Paul again? Her resolve began to weaken, but she clenched her teeth determinedly.

  Paul had violated her privacy in an effort to learn the truth, but he hadn’t learned everything. There was something missing in his research notes, something that had never been reported, something that she had never even told Maria. Her dark secret, the real reason behind her guilt.

  She was the only one who knew the truth, and it was a terrible burden. But it was one she was going to have to bear. Alone.

  As much as she missed Paul, she didn’t dare let him back into her life. He possessed considerable investigative skills, and it was inevitable that one day he would learn the truth about her. And that was something she couldn’t allow to happen.

  Jamming the letter into the envelope, she sealed it up and went into her bedroom. She placed it under the shoebox on the top shelf in the closet. Then flopping down on the bed, she buried her face in her pillow and sobbed until she fell into an exhausted sleep.

  CHAPTER 34

  Paul moped through the weekend.

  He went to his parents’ home for Sunday dinner, at his mother’s request. During the meal they discussed Rain and the whole situation. Pricilla was sympathetic and wanted to make sure Paul knew that she and Stan were there for him whenever he needed to talk. Paul appreciated their concern but found, ironically, that being around his parents made him feel Rain’s absence even more. When they joined him for a game of pool, Paul listened to his parents banter back and forth, teasing one another about how the game was going. He suddenly felt like a third wheel and realized how much he longed for Rain to be there with them. He missed talking with her and, yes, teasing her—he was Stan’s son, after all. He missed the arch of her eyebrow and the shape of her mouth whenever he got carried away and she gave him a playful look of reproach. He missed the smell of her hair and the touch of her skin. He missed the feel of her lips on his and the warmth of her breath on his cheek. His head felt like it was splitting in two by the time Stan sank the last ball and said, “You’re certainly off your game, son. And I’m not just talking pool here.”

  When Paul got back to his apartment that evening, he almost broke down and called Rain on the phone. She wouldn’t pick up, of course, but he could leave a message on her answering machine. That way he wouldn’t actually be seeing or talking to her. It would be a monologue that captured the loneliness of the past few days and compressed it into a message that only lasted a few minutes. But even as he considered the idea, Paul knew he was only deceiving himself. Contacting her in any way, even on a technicality, was a breach of the promise he’d made in his letter. He sighed bitterly and went to bed. Sleep wouldn’t come, however, and he was still staring at the ceiling several hours later.

  The following morning he stumbled into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. A man with blood-shot eyes, disheveled hair, and a furrowed brow stared back at him. Paul turned on the tap and splashed cold water in his face in an attempt to shock himself awake. But it did little to change the reflection’s countenance.

  When he arrived at work he found that life at KNEX-TV continued its everyday pace. His civic award still hung prominently on the wall, and the carved figure of the horse still sat on the corner of his desk. His cubicle and everything else remained unchanged.

  He attended his morning planning meeting, where Susan Townsend pulled rank once again on the executive producer, and then he and Grunge went out on a location shot. Tips on Facebook and Twitter still rolled in, as did a steady flow of e-mails concerning a wide variety of civic issues. The routine remained the same. And yet . . . everything was different.

  He considered driving by Welcoming Hands on the off chance that Rain was back and he might be able to catch a glimpse of her through the window. But he remembered his promise and attempted unsuccessfully to turn his attention back to a feature he was preparing.

  * * * * *

  Maria greeted Rain warmly and took her on a quick tour of the facility so Rain could see the progress that had occurred during her absence. Then before allowing Rain to focus on her secretarial duties, Maria took her into her office and gave Rain a chance to tell about her vacation. Maria listened attentively, especially when Rain told about visiting her girlhood home.

  Maria explained about Paul’s visit and the advice she had given him. “He loves you, Rain. That’s obvious. But I know he’s hurt you deeply, and even though he wants to make it up to you, he’ll wait until you’re ready. So don’t take his silence as a sign that he doesn’t care. It’s quite the opposite, and it’s up to you to decide if and when you’re ready to take the next step. He won’t pressure you, nor will I. But please know that my thoughts and hopes are with you. With both of you.”

  Rain fought to hold back the tears. As touched as she was by her friend and mentor’s show of concern, Maria simply didn’t understand. It wasn’t a matter of deciding if and when to take the next step. There was no next step to take. Rain couldn’t take Paul back because of who she was and what she had done. It was better to snuff things out now, rather than rekindle the flame and get burned later.

  She had known all along there could be no future with Paul or with anyone else for that matter. Once her dark secret was revealed, she would become a pariah, an object of disdain or, worse, pity. But she had let her heart overrule her head. She had ignored the warnings that sounded in her brain as distinctly as a foghorn. She had allowed her emotions to cloud her judgment. But not anymore.

  It was time to return to how things used to be, just Charlie and her. And if the situation became too unbearable, she would take him and move away. She had done it before and she could do it again. Perhaps she couldn’t outrun her past, but she could keep it off-balance and unaware of her next step. But she never said any of this to Maria. She simply took a moment to compose herself before stepping out of the office and taking her accustomed place behind her desk.

  * * * * *

  On Tuesday Paul went to Elliot’s Oyster House for dinner with some associates. Just walking into the restaura
nt brought back memories of the times he’d been there with Rain. He felt something tug at his insides as he remembered their first date—although she wouldn’t call it a date—and how nervous she’d been. She had studied the menu, wide-eyed and hesitant to order anything.

  That was one thing he loved about Rain. She was modest and appreciative. Other women he’d dated seemed determined to max out his credit card before the evening was through and thought nothing of ordering caviar as an appetizer. But Rain was not like that. She was unpretentious and practical in everything she did, and he understood why. He knew her background and her situation. He knew the responsibilities she carried, and he loved her for her courage.

  He thought of his most recent experience with her at the restaurant—the celebratory meal following the successful conclusion to Super Saturday. He was still a little embarrassed by the speech he’d given, but he didn’t regret the kiss afterward. Publically announcing his love was something he hadn’t anticipated, but the moment and the circumstances were right, and he was glad he’d done it.

  And that’s what made their separation all the more painful. His feelings for her hadn’t diminished. He still loved her and wanted to be with her. He also wanted to bare his soul and explain that his intentions were not what his actions suggested they were. But it was a futile wish. His actions condemned him, pure and simple.

  The following day he went golfing with Mack Hansen, his detective friend on the Seattle Police Department. Paul willingly accepted the invitation in the hope it would help get his mind off things. But he discovered that the things he hoped to forget occupied his mind and interfered so badly that by the time he finished eighteen holes, he had shot a personal worst. And Mack stuck him for the green fees!