It Pours

by C D Cain

  We sat in silence, only broken by sniffing as we let our tears fall.

  “So then this is it. We’re over?” He sniffled again. “I mean is this it or are you still trying to figure things out? Do I even have a chance anymore?” He turned rest his side against the door. “Are you sure you’re gay?” His eyes searched my face. He lifted his hands off of his lap but quickly let them fall again. “We could have such a good life together. You and me…we could have it all. Careers. Family. Life.” He looked down. “What if,” he said softly, “what if we still stayed together? What if I overlooked your…you know…when you wanted to be with a woman? What if we just didn’t talk about it?” He kept his face down, staring into his lap.

  I shook his ideas from my thoughts. “Grant.” He didn’t look back at me and I wasn’t going to force it. “No, Grant. No. We can’t do that. We shouldn’t do that. It wouldn’t be fair to either one of us.”

  “And this is?” The hurt and anger built in his voice again. “How is this fair?”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t. I hate it happened this way. I tried so hard to not let this be who I am that I pretended to be someone else.”

  “So why can’t you just keep pretending.”

  “Because I can’t.”

  “Why? You can have your time with your…friends. It doesn’t have to ruin us. You can have your time. You know, to do what it is you need to do and we can still have us.” He turned to bury his head against my chest. I felt the dampness of his tears soak through my shirt. “Rayne, I love you so much. You have to love me too. You just have to.” He wrapped his arms around me so tightly I feared I wouldn’t be able to take another breath.

  “I do love you, Grant. I do love you so much and I will always love you.” I ran my fingers through his hair. “But I don’t love you the way you deserve. You deserve more.”

  He pulled away from me abruptly. “I just don’t see why we can’t keep going the way we have been. I didn’t force you to be with me. You know like that. I didn’t force sex on you. Why can’t we forget all of this happened?”

  “You don’t mean that. You don’t. I want more. I want more for me…for you.” I took in a deep breath, hoping he would understand and feel the same as me. “And you should want more too.”

  He closed his eyes and opened his mouth several times. “I just…” He lifted his head and it fell back against the door. “I just want to be happy again. Feel like everything is going to be alright again. Feel like I actually know what the hell is going on in my life.”

  “Grant?”

  He blinked but kept staring straight ahead.

  I put my hand on his leg. “You can have all of that. You have a great opportunity in New York. You were really excited about it before all of this. Why not feel that again? Why not follow your dream?”

  “I thought we would do it together.”

  “But it was never my dream.”

  He stood and brushed the back of his blue jeans off. He stared down at me for several seconds. “Did I ever know you? Did I ever really know you?” He pointed at my chest.

  “Yes.” I stood up next to him as he put his hand on the door knob. “Yes, you did and still do know me. We’ve grown in different directions. I’m holding on to that. We can still find a relationship between us that fits the people we are now.”

  He turned away from me. “You’ve destroyed me,” he said as he walked out of the apartment.

  Fissure.

  Chapter 24

  “Hey, you.” Jazlyn’s voice was muffled by something in her mouth. “I was just thinking about you.” A rather loud crunch followed. “What’s up?”

  “Besides a shattered ear drum, you mean?”

  She laughed. “Sorry. I’m starving. The club is crazy tonight. Mo’s surprised us tonight and the place is packed.”

  Mo. I don’t know why I thought she would go anywhere else but the club.

  I felt my heart sink at the sound of her name. I had realized my feelings for Mo were growing the more time I spent with her but I didn’t fully appreciate the depth of them until I watched her walk away. If I had thought it would have done any good, I would have chased after her. I would have grabbed a hold of that damn duffle bag and pulled her back into my apartment. But the look in her eyes had told me she was leaving no matter my words or my actions. My thoughts had not been consumed by her with all of the other happenings going on. That is until the moment I heard Jazlyn say her name.

  Another loud crunch followed. “I kept waiting for her to take a break after her first set but she’s like a machine tonight. She went right into another one without a break.” This time the crunch was somewhat subdued by the sound of paper ruffling in the background. “Do you wanna come over? I’ll buy you a drink?”

  “No.” I pulled my knees up against my chest as I sat against the headboard of the bed. “I’m actually not in town tonight.”

  “Oh, yeah? Where are you?”

  “Louisiana.”

  “Aw. Going home?”

  “Yes.” I was a basket case filled with anger, sadness, and confusion. I was heartbroken by the pain I continued to cause those in my life. A basket case that needed to talk out my feelings with my friend—the one constant in my life. Yet, here I sat on the other end of the phone not knowing how to even begin to open up to her. How could I, without exposing Mo and me? I had overheard Jazlyn ask Mo not to start anything with me. Had Mo kept us a secret from her and if so, was it my right at all to betray her?

  “So…Mo’s there?” Well, that sounded completely idiotic.

  “Yeah. I didn’t know she was coming into town this weekend. She showed up on my door this afternoon.”

  “Oh.” I pulled the pillow next to me across my chest and hugged it tightly. “How is she?”

  “Mo?”

  “Yes. Mo.”

  The pause seemed like an eternity as I waited for her to finish swallowing her drink. “She’s okay.” She took another drink. “She’s worried about you but otherwise okay. Now she’s lost in that damn booth.”

  “She’s worried about me?”

  “Mmmmm Hmmmm. Are we going to keep pretending I don’t know what’s going on?”

  “So…you know?”

  “I do.”

  “Oh Jazlyn…I need to talk to you so bad but didn’t know if I could. If Mo had told you…told you about.” I hesitated still not knowing what all she knew.

  “About you and Mo?”

  “Yes that.”

  I heard another crunch in my ear and momentarily wondered what in the hell she was eating. If it was an apple, then surely she must almost be done. But if it was carrot sticks or celery, I was done for.

  “What has happened between you and Mo is between you two. You’re both my very best friends and two of the most incredible women I’ve been blessed to know. I’ll respect you both and let you work it out while I don’t get in the middle. How’s that sound?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Now tell me about your mom. Mo said it was a very compromising position that she walked in on.”

  “You could say that again.”

  “Are you okay?” An apple. It must’ve been an apple because the loud crunching had finally ceased.

  “Honestly, I have no idea.” I pulled at the corners of the pillow as I told Jazlyn the whole story. The parts Mo had missed. It felt good to be able to tell someone all of my fears without feeling judgment on the other end of the line. Jazlyn truly was my very best friend.

  “I don’t get why she would do that.” Jazlyn’s voice was muffled by more paper rattling. “I think I’m in shock.”

  “You don’t know Charlie Grace. Nothing shocks me anymore.”

  “I mean it’s one thing for her to come into your home and act that way but it’s something else all together to tell Grant. I mean, dude, she completely outed you. It was up to you to tell Grant or anyone. Not her.”

  “Again…you don’t know Charlie Grace. I wouldn’t be surprised if eve
ryone knows by now. I’m sure her phone has been hot in her hand on her drive back home. She will need to rally the troops to support her in her heartbreak.”

  “Is that why you’re home?”

  “I’m not there yet. Stopped over at a hotel for the night. I didn’t want to face this in the middle of the night. But, yeah, that and I need to face her. I need to get this talked out. I can’t function in anything with this looming over us. Not at the hospital…not studying…not anything.”

  “I get that. And Grant…what will he do?” I could tell she was talking around another bite in her mouth. She really must have been hungry.

  “I have no idea. I imagine not much of anything as far as telling people. He isn’t really one to discuss his feelings. He hardly talked to me about any of his thoughts before all of this. I think I always wondered if he didn’t have any or if he just didn’t want to talk about them. But I doubt he will be too anxious for everyone to know. He’ll most likely think it will be taken as a reflection on him. Gawd, Jazlyn, I hurt him so bad. I just can’t even let myself feel that part.”

  “Then don’t. Baby steps my friend. Baby steps. You’ve got to take one step at a time. First your mother. Then you’ll decide where to go from there.”

  A thought flashed. “Oh dear Lord, Nadine.”

  “I’m sorry. What?”

  “Nadine. Grant’s mother.” A wave of anxiety washed over me. “I had completely forgotten about her. I was only thinking about the wrath of Charlie Grace. Hell, if she doesn’t tell the whole town Nadine sure will. She’ll want to have a good reason to take the blame off of Grant for our break-up. I’m not looking forward to talking to her.”

  “The pros and cons of family I suppose. Geez it’s not like it’s hard enough to come out but damn, girl…you’ve got to come out to the world within days of coming out to yourself.”

  “Feels much like that.”

  “Hey, you know what?”

  “What?”

  “You’ve got this.” Her mouth was full again. “You know that? You’ve got this,” she said with a strength that seemed to carry across the distance between us. “I’ve got all of the faith in the world in you, my friend. You’re one of those women I admire. You’ve got this incredible strength in you. A strength in you that you don’t even realize. Once you tap into it, you are going to be a force let me tell you.”

  “Thank you.” I felt a hint of what she described and let myself collapse into it. “You’re my best friend. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Lucky for you,” she took another bite of whatever she was eating, “you’ll never have to find out.”

  “Good God, woman…what are you eating? The whole refrigerator?”

  She laughed. “Pretty much. I told you I was starving.”

  “I believe you.” I set the pillow I had been clutching next to me and slipped my body down into the comfort of the bed. I had to try to find some form of sleep before I faced the fury which awaited me a short two hours’ drive away. “Hey, Jazlyn?”

  “Mmmmm hmmmm.”

  “Is Mo really okay? Charlie Grace was a real bitch to her.”

  “She’s fine and trust me…she’s had worse in her life.”

  “Maybe so, but not in front of me and not by my mother’s hands.”

  “She’s okay. I’ll tell her you asked about her and that we talked.”

  “I didn’t want her to leave, Jazlyn. I really didn’t.”

  She was quiet for a minute. The sigh I heard her express seemed to tell me more than her words did because all she said was, “I know.”

  Was she sighing for me? For Mo? Or maybe…for both of us?

  Chapter 25

  “Welcome to Brennin Louisiana. The friendly city.” The letters were written in a semi-circle over the picture of a fleur-de-lis. The hum of my jeep engine was the only sound I heard in the silence of the morning. I hadn’t intended to get out of the jeep when I pulled off of the road but I felt my strength wavering when I saw the sign. It marked the entrance into the place I had once found to be a breath of air into my lungs. It represented a happiness of home which filtered into my nasal passages as pure oxygen gifted solely to me. Now it was tainted by a sourness tinged with bitterness as to the wonder of what would be in the place I called home—not just the home I had grown up in but the home in the town. The town itself was as much my home as the one where Charlie Grace awaited me. The brick-laid streets of downtown were like my playground. The eclectic shops were like my bedroom. The bayou and the outskirts of town were my toys. And the people…the people…all of them were my family. How much of this would change today? How much if any would stay the same? Would it continue to be the friendly city to me? A lump formed in my throat and let my forehead fall to rest against the cold metal of the road sign.

  “I wondered when you would be here.” Jacques was sitting alone in a rocking chair on the expansive front porch. A coffee cup rested on the rocker’s arm. Steam floated from the cup’s rim into the crisp December air.

  I sat in the chair next to him. “You knew I was coming.”

  “Figured but didn’t know.”

  “Does she?”

  He blew into the cup before taking a swallow. “I’m not sure but probably.”

  “Jacques?”

  “Yeah, kiddo?”

  “Do you hate me?”

  He stopped the rocker firmly in place and looked at me. “What? No. Why on earth would I hate you?”

  “Disgusted by me then?”

  He bent over the arm of the chair to put his cup on the concrete and stood in front of me with his arms spread wide. “Sweet girl…I could never hold anything but love for you and never, ever disgust.”

  I rose quickly to be consumed by his arms. I cried into his chest as he held me tightly against him.

  “You’re my daughter, Rayne. There’s nothing you could ever do to change that. There’s nothing you could ever do that would lessen the love I feel for you.” He slowly rocked me in his arms and didn’t lessen his hold until my tears slowed and I regained my composure.

  I pulled away to look him in the eyes but remained in the comfort of his arms. “So how bad is it going to be in there?”

  “On a scale of one to ten?”

  “Sure.”

  “Oh about…” He pretended to think. “A hundred and ten.” He smiled and returned to his rocker. “Might as well bite the bullet.”

  I found her in the kitchen. Her back was to me as she stared out the window. Her breaths were rhythmic and steady. Her arms were relaxed across the kitchen sink. I watched her for several minutes before I let my presence be known. There was an absence in the air. One I had not come to recognize in Mother’s kitchen. I’d recognized silence before. The eerie silence where there wasn’t a sound carried in the air. The calm of a day or night when not a sound was heard…not a breeze rustling leaves, nor an insect’s call or a bird’s song. I’d heard that silence before. This was a silence of scent in a kitchen known for its smells of cooking, baking, or simply brewed coffee. There was nothing in the air. Nothing tickled the nasal passages.

  “Hello, Mother.”

  Her back stiffened yet she remained facing the window.

  “Mother, we need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “Well for starters about yesterday. About me. About Grant. Why did you do that? Why did you tell him?”

  “Did you not think he deserved to know?” Her voice was calm, flat, and without emotion. I wondered if she had always been callous like this. Surely it wasn’t genetic as I had not been equipped with such a talent. Neither did I remember Memaw having such a measured insensitive composure as what Charlie Grace exhibited. Surely this was a talent acquired over years of practice.

  “Of course, he deserved to know but in my time not yours.”

  “And exactly when was your time, Rayne Amber?”

  “I don’t know, Mother. But it was my choice to make not yours.”

  “Well, it see
ms you’ve been making many choices lately.” She turned to me and the strength in my legs buckled. “And not one single one of them is any good.”

  Never had I seen her look this way. It wasn’t simply the fact that I could count on one hand the times I had seen her wear such little makeup as she wore today but rather something in the eyes. It wasn’t just the redness and puffiness of eyes changed by a night of tears. It was the way she held me with those eyes. The way she looked at me.

  I had asked Jacques if he was disgusted…if his love for me had changed after he found out about what Charlie Grace had seen of me. I had asked because I didn’t see the evidence in his eyes and wondered if they hid his true feelings. There was no need to ask her as she held me in the grayness of them. Fittingly ironic, the color of her eyes. Gray. But the look was pure black and white without any doubt to the emotion behind them. I wouldn’t want to admit it was hate. But perhaps disgust would fit nicely? Yes, I could say that easily. One could even go with contempt. I found the words I had practiced in the brightness of my headlights as they reflected the passing miles to be absent. The speech made in preparation of our imminent debate. The arguments I had devised in defense of who I had learned or accepted myself to be. All of them…gone. Lost in the abyss of the gray eyes before me.

  “So what is it you drove all this way to say?” She leaned her back against the kitchen sink and folded her arms.

  “I don’t know so much as to say something versus talking. I would like to talk about this.”

  “Talk about what?”

  “Yesterday, Mother. Don’t be like this. It’s hard enough without all of this.”