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It Pours

Page 9

by C D Cain


  “I’ve heard of those but haven’t seen one yet. I don’t listen to a lot of music.”

  “What? That’s very near criminal.” She looked at me, shocked. “Why the hell not?”

  I shrugged. “I dunno. I guess because I study a lot and music distracts me.”

  “Oh yeah. Are you in school?” She led us to the stereo system and pulled a cord from her back pocket. “The rental sucked and had no way for me to plug it in. So, school…you were saying?”

  “Ummm, yeah, I’m finishing up my plastic surgery residency.”

  She stopped, turned to look at me and bobbed her head. “A doctor. Interesting. Okay then, Doc, what kind of music did you like when you did listen to music?”

  “Probably eighties music would be my favorite.”

  Her laugh was deep with a hint of hoarseness to it. “Not sure I have a bunch of that on here.” She shook the iPod she held in between her fingers. “How about I do the picking tonight and you make it up to me later?”

  “That sounds like a deal.”

  She smiled. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  She was actually quite beautiful, strikingly so but in a no fuss sort of way. Her hair was chestnut brown with long heavy waves that formed around her face. She pulled the long sides over to the side of her neck as she examined her musical selection. I studied a bit of music in school when the curriculum demanded each student choose either band or choir but it was never my thing. Charlie Grace always told me I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket much less with my voice, so naturally I chose band. I learned just enough to recognize the treble clef sign tattooed behind her right ear. She ran her thumb over the circular dial until something caught her attention.

  “Ooooh, I think this playlist should do.”

  She smiled as a high-pitched trumpet and rolling base drum blared through the surround speakers. A slow and sultry woman’s voice joined their song of a lady singing the blues. Mo closed her eyes and swayed her head when the voice turned husky. The sound of tickling ivories played lightly in the background. She shuffled her black boots on the hardwood floor. She wore gray Dickie pants which rode low on her hips. A silver chain with one end attached to a belt loop and the other end leading to her back pocket jiggled as her hips joined the sway of her head. I watched as her body felt the chords played through the speakers.

  “Who doesn’t love Lady Day?” she said as her hips dipped low and came back up.

  “No one I know.” Jazlyn said, walking from around the corner. She set a tray down in between us. “Dig in. Wine’s coming up.”

  “How about right now?” Violet walked up behind Jazlyn and handed Mo and me a glass of wine. “I think this’ll go nicely with what Jaz has whipped up for us.”

  Mo swirled the deep red wine until it rose up along the sides. She stopped the twirl of her hand and swiftly brought the glass to her nose. She breathed in deeply before taking a small sip. She swished the wine around in her mouth, swallowed and then looked at Violet. “Very nice.”

  Flashes of Sam making those same motions appeared in my mind and took my breath. Sam and Mo’s movements mimicked each other’s. Different but the same.

  “Sold. I’ll go get our glasses and be right back.” Violet disappeared into the kitchen.

  I stared at the glass in my hand until I noticed I’d caught Mo’s attention.

  “It usually has more of an effect if you actually drink it. You know, instead of staring at it.”

  I found her teasing relaxing and fell into it by letting a chuckle escape. “You know, I think I’ve read that somewhere before.”

  Mo smiled and tipped her glass to me as she popped a piece of fresh mozzarella in her mouth. “Sassy. I like that.”

  “Thanks.” I looked down at the wine. “So, why do you do the swirling thing?”

  Mo gave me a quizzical look. “Swirling thing?”

  “Yeah, you swirled the glass and then sniffed it before drinking it.”

  “Aw, that.” She placed her hand over mine as it held the glass. “Moving around your wrist to let the wine swirl in the glass sets its bouquet free. It oxygenates and releases its aromas.” She gently moved our hands. “Now when we stop, bring the glass to your nose and smell.” She stopped our hands and urged the glass to my nose but left her hand over mine. I felt her fingertip touch the tip of my nose. “What do you smell?”

  I breathed in deeply. “I smell…hmmmm…black cherries?”

  Her smile widened. “Yes, very good. Now take a small swallow but swish it around your mouth before swallowing.”

  I did as she said and felt the room temp wine tingle on my tongue. It left a slight burn along my throat as I swallowed.

  “Now what did you taste?”

  “Uh, the black cherries I smelled and er…cinnamon. Maybe even a hint of rosemary. Is that right?”

  Her smile stretched across her face. Her teeth were gorgeously white and perfectly straight. Her eyes sparkled. “Very good. Now pair it with something off of the tray.”

  I looked over the food spread out on a granite cheese board. Chalk lettering named each sample. I topped off a piece of aged parmesan with a slice of salami.

  “Good choice.” Mo did the same. Her eyes kept smiling at me as she chewed.

  “My favorite are the olives,” Jazlyn said, reaching between us to grab one. She threw her arm over Mo’s shoulder. “Damn girl, it’s good to see you.”

  They stared at each other long enough for me to be envious of their friendship. There was no distance between them. They looked at each other as if they could read each other’s thoughts and I’m betting they probably could.

  Jazlyn broke their stare and changed her glance to include me. “My girl here and I share a love of food and…” She paused to listen to the music. A smile took over her face. “Summertime and the living is easy.” She sang and then grabbed Mo’s hand as they twirled each other around the living room.

  “When those two escape into their little world, you might as well give it up,” Violet said, watching them dance.

  I didn’t know what to say or even if she wanted a comment in return. She spoke in a manner that felt like it was a strain for her to speak to me at all. The tension between us was beyond uncomfortable. She was Sam’s friend. I knew that as plain as I knew the nose on my face. I wondered if Sam and Violet were like this when they got together. Sam. Feeling the darkness creep back into me, I took a larger swallow of wine. I wasted not in the perfect swish of the liquid and drank for its effect. I couldn’t and wouldn’t let my thoughts give in to the darkness this weekend. I had to let it go to keep some sanity about me. I watched Mo and Jazlyn spin each other around. I absorbed their happiness to let it be my distraction.

  ***

  The cellphone vibrated across the nightstand, which woke me from my not so restful sleep. The indicator for two voicemails flashed on the screen. One had been left late in the afternoon the day before and the other left early this morning. I held the phone to my ear as I sat up against the large cushioned headboard.

  “Hey, sis, dis here Flossie.” Silence. “Are you there? Pick up the phone cuz I need to tell you something.” I laughed at her lack of understanding as to a cellphone message compared to an answering machine. Damn technology confused an old woman. “Good thing you ain’t there. Anyhow yo’ momma done fit to be tied. Grant done come up in here and told’n her you didn’t want to come home for the holiday. She had some big barbeque shindig planned up for ya’ll. Me and Cora been shucking up so much corn my fingers done got blisters on dem. You best be leavin’ this here machine on cuz no doubt she gonna be callin’. She was cussin’ up a storm when that boy told her.” I heard shuffling as if she was trying to figure out how to turn the phone off. “Hey, sis…I’m missing you some kinda bad but I gets why you ain’t here. You best be taking care of yoself.”

  A pain hit deep in the pit of my stomach and rolled a wave of nausea across it. On this weekend a year ago, I felt the happiest I had ever felt in my life. A weekend
with Sam, Meems, and Flossie. Now only one of the three remained in my life. How could things change so drastically in such a small amount of time? Fear sprang up behind the pain. If a year had taken so much from me, what would another year take? A woman who once spent all of her days planning for the years ahead was now afraid to look beyond the time at present.

  I stood from the bed and walked to the window. A sliver of light rose above the surface of the water but was smothered from expanding any futher up by a mass of clouds that rested above it. The phone’s screen was the only light in the room. It taunted me with voicemail two. Didn’t I know who it was from? I sat in the wingback chair next to the bed, bent my knees up against my chest and pulled my t-shirt over them as I stared at the screen.

  Voicemail two.

  “Rayne,” Charlie Grace said, “I don’t think it’s asking too much to be notified of your plans when they change.” Her voice was strained as if she was choosing her words very carefully and perhaps speaking through gritted teeth. “One minute you’re planning a visit and the next Grant tells me you have chosen to go elsewhere for your holiday weekend.” Had I told her I was coming home? I couldn’t remember. “Consideration. Consideration of others would be a nice lesson to learn. Now I must figure out what excuse I’m going to tell my friends when they arrive to find the honored guest is nowhere to be found. Perhaps you should be more considerate of your fiancé as well as he is celebrating the holiday all alone.” She hung up. No good bye. No terms of endearment. Classic Charlie Grace.

  Quietly I snuck from my room to watch the sunrise from the balcony. The light cast shadows into the darkness of the terrace. The surf’s waves greeted me their good morning. I caught the scent of a coffee’s aroma as I was about to sit.

  “Good morning, Rayne.” Violet’s voice surprised me both with the sound of it as well as the nature of it. I was reminded of the feared physician of the obstetrics floor.

  “Good morning, Dr. Breaker.”

  Her face was obscured in the shadow but I could see the definition of an arched eyebrow when she looked over her coffee cup at me.

  “I’m sorry. Good morning, Violet.”

  “There’s coffee on the table in the corner. If you would like a cup.” Her tone was unchanged.

  A small French press sat in the center of the glass table with a coffee mug tree adorned with white cups standing next to it. I filled the cup with the black morning’s necessity. I didn’t want the cream or sugar which sat next to it but I was drawn to rub the bronze fleu de lis toppers found on the lids of the glass set. The elegant symbols characteristic of Louisiana seemed out of place among the beach decorations. Yet here they were proudly displayed beneath the wall hangings of shells and a driftwood sign pointing out toward the surf.

  “There’s cream and sugar next to the press. If you want it.”

  “I drink mine black but thank you. I love the containers though.”

  “Thank you. Sam gave them to us last year. She brought them back from a trip to Louisiana.” She took a sip of her coffee. “But I think you already know about that trip.”

  I didn’t move from my position behind her. All I wanted to do was to turn and run back inside but deep down I knew I couldn’t. Jazlyn was my friend. She was a friend I had grown quickly to need in my life. Violet was her wife, her life partner and a woman she dearly loved. It was time for me to stand strong for the person I am—faults, mistakes and all. It was time for me to do something not so easy for my future and those I wanted in it.

  I sat in the chair closest to her and stared out at the ocean. “Are you sure, you don’t mind the company?”

  She slowly turned her head in my direction. “It’s fine.” Her tone continued to express anything but it being fine.

  The rising sun began to dispel the shadows and glow across her face. When she wasn’t wearing her current expression, Violet was a beautiful woman. Who am I kidding? Even with the “I could snap your head off like a twig” look, she was still quite gorgeous. Her complexion had darkened while we were at the beach. The light golden hue of her skin had grown a richer, deeper brown from the hours spent under the sun. She wore her hair about an inch around her head except for the top which she kept it long enough to wear in a fashionable, messy spike. However, this weekend she had mostly left it free to lay across her forehead.

  We sat in silence as the sun peeked over the horizon to paint the sky golden as it lay over the crystal blue water which turned to emerald green the closer it came to the shore. I was at a loss for words as I sat next to the woman who may have known more about Sam than I did. She certainly knew more of her in those final days of our time. What had she told her of me? What had she told her of her feelings for me? The sun had risen well above the surface of the water before I gained the courage to speak.

  “It truly is beautiful here.”

  “Yes, it is. Jaz has always enjoyed coming here.”

  “I can see why. Ya’ll have a beautiful place here.”

  “It was her parents. I think she feels closer to them when she’s here.”

  “Was?”

  “Yes. They were killed in a car crash when she was a freshman in college.” She took the last sip from her cup and stood to walk over to the French press.

  “I didn’t know.”

  “No, I doubt you would. She doesn’t talk about it.” She held the pot up. “Would you like for me to top off your cup?”

  I looked down at the partially filled cup. “Yes, please.”

  “She doesn’t let many people get close to her. Acquaintances. Yes, she keeps many of those. Although few get passed the wall she keeps up. In fact, until you the only other one was Mo.” She sat back down in the chair but faced me instead of the water. “I suppose that’s why I know I’ve got to figure out a way to make this work between us.” She brushed at the bangs that had fallen into her eyes. “I love her, Rayne, so you and I need to come to some understanding.”

  “I would like that. She’s become my best friend.”

  “I see that.”

  “I don’t want to lose her.”

  “No and I know she feels the same about you.” I felt her stare on me as physically as I did the ceramic cup in my hand. “I didn’t have a high opinion of you not so long ago.”

  “And now?”

  “And now, I suppose I’m trying to develop my own instead of holding resentment for things I know. I believe I may have misjudged you.”

  “How so?” I didn’t want to do anything to discourage her from continuing so I sat there as still as I could and waited on her next words.

  She took another swallow of her coffee. “Before I believed you were trying to act out some straight girl lesbian fantasy as a way of sewing some wild oats before you got married.”

  “I wasn’t.” I couldn’t hold back my interruption because she couldn’t have been more wrong. “I swear to you. I wasn’t.”

  “I believe you.” Would her tone ever change around me? “I respect the fact that you haven’t once tried to get me to talk of Sam or the time she spent with us. I’m not sure if it’s my privacy or hers you’re regarding. But I do respect the fact that you haven’t tried to get me to talk about those days.”

  The breeze blew the tall blades of dune grass as they reached for the sky that had now turned a firey red color.

  “Both,” I finally said.

  A tear escaped to trace down my cheek as I thought of the loss of Sam. I remembered the pain of watching her walk away. I remembered the tears falling until my vision was skewed and my eyes fatigued. With all of me, I had fought these tears this weekend. I was so tired of crying. So tired of feeling the pain of watching her leave. So tired of feeling responsible for her pain and my pain. Here they fell freely in front of the woman who no doubt had collected Sam’s tears upon her shoulder.

  “I never wanted to hurt her,” I said between sobs. “Knowing I did hurts worse than the pain of losing her. I can’t sleep because when I close my eyes I see her crying in front of m
e. There was so much I did wrong. So much I could’ve done differently.”

  I didn’t want the words to keep pouring out of me. I wanted them to stop. She sat across from me and watched as I broke down in front of her but I swear her expression was unchanged. What did I expect her to do? Wrap me up in her arms. Console me after I broke her best friend’s heart. After I hurt Sam so much that she left her fellowship instead of staying in a city where she might run into me. No, if it were me I would probably sit there emotionless as well.

  Which is what she did for several minutes before speaking again. “And now? Would you do things differently if given another chance? If faced with the same situation, even if it’s not Sam, would your choices or actions be different?”

  With a strength I hadn’t realized laid dormant within me, I answered without hesitation. “I would. Beyond a shadow of doubt I would do things differently.” What exactly those things would be I did not know, but I had lived enough of my days with Sam out of my life that I realized if given another chance I would do what I could to never feel this way again.

  Violet stood and walked to the balcony door. “Perhaps one day you’ll be faced with a similar decision. Maybe then you’ll remember this feeling you have now and use it to your advantage.” She braced her hand against the glass of the door and glanced over her shoulder. “We’re taking the boat out today. Why don’t you give yourself a day to let those eyes see something besides sadness?”

  I looked at her in what I know must have been a look of shock.

  “I’ve seen equal pain in both of your eyes now. I’ll tell you like I told her, holding onto the hurt won’t bring her back.”

  “What will?”

  She sighed. “She asked me the very same question.”

  “And what did you tell her?”

  “I told her the only thing that will bring her back is her. The same for you. The only thing to bring Sam back to you is Sam. If you two are meant to be together, you will be together.”

 

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