The Rain Began to Fall

by A. K. Hartline

  “What I’m about to say isn’t easy,” she finally began, turning her face away from him and looking straight ahead. He felt his heart skip a beat.

  “What? What are you talking about?” he said, trying to maintain his composure while gripping the rail tightly.

  “I’m talking about what I’ve found, Gene,” she said, sighing, “and what I’ve lost.” She looked over at his face, brushing her hair out of her eyes. “What I’ve lost is… an illusion, one I’ve lived for a long time now. And what I’ve found is true love…. with another man.” She bowed her head and held her breath a moment, awaiting his reaction. But he said nothing, simply staring at her with his mouth hanging open, his mind trying to catch up with his ears. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

  “I don’t expect you to understand this.” She paused a moment.

  “You’re right, Leigh, I…I don’t understand,” he finally stammered. “What’s happened? You’re not thinking right! Let’s talk about thi….”

  “Gene,” she interrupted, “It’s really best for us. It’s good, for your sake and mine, that I’ve seen it now before we made a mistake.” She turned sideways to face him.

  “You see, I thought I knew what love was. But I know now that I was just staying on a course that was sort of expected of me, that I felt comfortable with,” she explained. “I was going to marry you because it was the logical thing to do, the secure life. I told myself that I loved you… and I do,” she said sincerely, taking his hand. He continued to stare at her blankly; but he was beginning to comprehend her words.

  “But it’s not that kind of love,” she said, looking into his eyes, seeking his understanding; but he removed his hand from hers, turning away and looking hard across the lake, shaking his head. He simply couldn’t absorb what was happening.

  “Do you hear what you’re saying?” he exclaimed, turning on her, his eyes filled with confusion and fear. “We’re getting married in three weeks, Leigh!”

  “There’s not going to be a wedding, Gene,” she responded quietly, looking down. “I’m sorry.” He took a step back. His legs felt weak, and he leaned on the rail for support. She looked back up at him. “I know this is hard. I can’t change the past, but I can change the future, and that’s what I’m doing now.” He searched her face anxiously, looking into her eyes for the girl he had known; but she was gone. In her place was a woman who seemed strengthened and definite.

  “Another man?” he asked. “Who?”

  “That doesn’t matter,” she said dismissively. “What matters is that I’ve seen the light before it was too late, before I made us miserable. Gene, you’re a good man, with a bright future. You’ll go far.”

  He hung his head. He knew any attempts to change her mind would be futile. If there were any hope, he would be arguing his case right now, doing what he did best. But her mind was made up; he could hear it in her voice, in her words. He had been too consumed with his career to notice, taken too much for granted. She had met someone else and changed, and he’d never had a clue.

  He slumped on the rail, heartbroken, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. She then held him in her arms, one last time for all the years. He wept when she removed her engagement ring and returned it to him, and she cried too for all they had tried to be, but ultimately were not.

  Afterward, Leigh drove the streets of Charlotte for quite some time, reflecting on how much had changed in the last three months; how glad she was that Kyle had been persistent, had not given up on her, and that she had finally seen the truth about herself. It had been hard to say good-bye to Gene; but she had found the strength to do it, because in her heart she had the power of a love that would last a lifetime.

  CHAPTER 27

  When they finally parted ways on Saturday evening, Leigh had informed Kyle she wouldn’t be around the following day; that she was meeting with Gene to say good-bye, and she didn’t know when she would be done. He had told her to take her time and do what she had to do. He trusted her implicitly.

  Rob dropped by Sunday afternoon, and Kyle filled him in on the good news about he and Leigh as they cruised around Charlotte, at roughly the same time Leigh was doing the same with Mindy.

  “Alright!” Rob exclaimed. “I knew it, man! Isn’t it crazy, the way things work out?”

  “Yeah it is,” Kyle responded, smiling. “Fate takes care of everything.” He looked over at Rob and clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re my best friend, man. I’m glad you’re here. Thanks for being there all these years.”

  “No, thank you,” Rob said. “If you hadn’t moved here, I wouldn’t have followed, and I would have never met Mindy.”

  After they arrived back at the apartments, Rob left to meet up with his future bride. Kyle was getting ready to settle in when he remembered he hadn’t checked his mail at the post office for at least a week. He decided he’d better go clean it up.

  Once there, he used his key to unlock the box, and it was stuffed to overflowing. He flipped through the stack as he exited the building and walked to his car: A flyer from a pizzeria, a credit card offer, a bill from the co-op, etc…

  What was this? The next envelope was from his agent, Gary Pierce, and the word “Urgent” was stamped across the front. He felt his heart leap in his chest. Calm down, Kyle ole boy, he thought. But as he leaned against the hood of his Nova, he tore the envelope open with gusto. He withdrew two pages, and read the first:

  Dear Kyle,

  Please find enclosed an offer on “The Fishing Trip” I am sure you can’t refuse. It looks like we have a winner! Call me asap and let’s talk about it!

  Congratualtions!

  Gary Pierce

  Kyle’s hands were trembling as he began reading the second letter.

  Dear Mr. Pierce,

  I have read the manuscript, “The Fishing Trip”, you submitted on behalf of your client, Mr. Kyle Tilston. I was thoroughly delighted by the story, and I feel he has written a true gem in literature. As the Senior Editor at Titan Books, I am prepared to offer an advance of $100,000 to secure the publishing rights to this novel. Please contact me as soon as possible and let’s discuss future works and your client’s relationship with Titan.

  Sincerely,

  Adam Graceson

  Sr. Editor/ Titan Books

  He re-read the letter, too astonished to get it on the first pass. But then he yelled and pumped a fist in the air.

  “Yes!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. A couple of unsuspecting patrons walking through the parking lot near him offered wary smiles and kept moving along. He then jumped in his car and squealed the tires out of the parking lot, exceeding the speed limit a bit as he sped back to his apartment.

  When he arrived home, he ran to the door, fumbled and dropped the keys, picked them up, and finally made it in. He opened his phone and punched Leigh’s home number, on the off chance she may be back from her meeting.

  “Hello?” answered a voice on the other end. It wasn’t Leigh.

  “May I speak to Leigh, please? he asked, still breathing hard in his excitement. And it was in his voice; there was no containing it.

  “She’s not here at the moment,” Cheryl answered. “May I ask who is calling?”

  “My name’s Kyle Tilston. I’m a…a friend of Leigh’s,” he replied, and on the other end of the line, Cheryl smiled at his word search. Friend? she thought. I think a bit more.

  “Do you know whe…never mind. Just tell her…never mind that too,” he stammered. He took a breath. “Is this Mrs. Thompson?”

  “Yes it is,” she responded. This young man sounded terribly excited.

  “Sorry I’m babbling,” he said, chuckling. “I’m a writer, you see, and I’ve been trying to get published for years. I just got a deal from Titan on one of my novels this evening!” His voice had been climbing with each word to the extent he practically shouted this last.

  “Well congratulations, Kyle!” she replied sincerely. So he’s a writer? She read her share of books, a
nd she knew Titan was a big outfit. This young man had accomplished quite a feat.

  Kyle caught himself, and realized he was sharing his great news with Leigh’s Mom, whom he had never met. Oops.

  “Sorry about that,” he apologized. “I know this sounds unusual to you. I’m just.... a bit excited, you know?”

  “Well, I can certainly understand that!” she said. “You have every right to be!”

  “Thank you Mrs. Thompson!”

  “And I’m sure Leigh will be happy for you. Would you like for me to have her call you when she gets in?” He thought for a second.

  “No, no,” he said. “Actually, I think I’d rather tell her in person. I’ll see her tomorrow. Would you mind keeping it a secret?”

  “You can count on me,” she responded, “and congratulations again.”

  “Thank you!” he said. “It was good talking to you Mrs. Thompson.”

  “Same here,” she replied, smiling. “I’m looking forward to meeting you…sailor.” And then she hung up, leaving Kyle on the other end staring at the phone, perplexed.

  CHAPTER 28

  After his conversation with Cheryl, Kyle called his agent. Gary soon got down to business.

  “I’m booking you a flight up here next week,” he announced. “I’ll firm up the date and time and get back to you.”

  “Next week?” Kyle responded. “New York?”

  “Absolutely,” he replied. “Think you can clear your schedule? Mr. Graceson wants a face to face in his office. You’ve hit the jackpot, Kyle.”

  “I’ll be there!” he responded.

  When Rob arrived back home late Sunday evening, Kyle caught up with him and shared his second round of good news. It was a poignant moment. Rob, who had shared Kyle’s literary dream for many years, was almost as excited as his friend was. With beers in hand, Rob raised his.

  “To you, my man! Your ship has come in to shore!” he toasted. “Or ships, I should say! How much good fortune can a guy have in one weekend?”

  “No kidding!” Kyle responded, laughing.

  “And to you,” Kyle responded, “my best friend. I honestly wouldn’t have made it without your belief and support.”

  # # #

  On Monday morning, Kyle woke with an indescribable happiness in his heart. It was difficult to imagine that in the last two days he had won the woman he loved and landed his first book deal. He showered and got dressed, then prepared a peanut butter and banana sandwich, humming. As he drove to Falstead, he thought about how his move to Charlotte had resulted in the best events of his life, proof that one never knows what lies around the bend; that if one was determined and persistent, great things could happen. He recalled a quote by long ago heavyweight champion Gentleman Jim Corbett: “…fight one more round, remembering that the man who always fights one more round is never whipped.”

  He had the window down, and the fresh morning air of May blew through his hair. As he approached the traffic light where they had raced that morning – a time that now seemed like ages ago – he had to brake fairly hard to slow down; he had been stepping on the gas in his enthusiasm.

  As he got closer, he saw a familiar red Porsche sitting in the left lane.

  “No way,” he muttered, grinning. As he pulled along beside her, he was amused to see her applying make up to her face, just as she was that day.

  Leigh was glancing at the traffic light, hoping it would turn soon. She was running late, after a long night spent burying the past and awakening to the future, when she heard the loud roar of an engine beside her. No mistaking who it was.

  She looked over at Kyle, and he was smiling big, motioning her to roll down her window.

  “Hey baby!” he hollered.

  “Hey!” she hollered back. “Is this déjà vu or what?”

  “No kidding!” he yelled back. They both glanced up at the light. Still red.

  “Hey, guess what!” he hollered again. She stretched her head out the window.

  “You’re going to have to quiet that hot rod down, darling!” she replied.

  “No can do, babe!” he responded. “I said, guess what!”

  “What? What?” she hollered back, laughing. He seemed awfully excited about something! She glanced up at the light. No go.

  “I’ve done it!” he shouted. “I’m getting published!” He was laughing and waving the letter out the window. She was astounded.

  “That’s wonderful!” she hollered.

  He glanced at the light. “And I’m getting an advance! A hundred thousand dollars! It’s big time!”

  “A hundred thousand?” she replied, laughing. “I told you so, didn’t I? I’m so proud of you!” She was overwhelmed with joy that his dream had come true; that her dream had come true. She looked at his beaming smile, his excited face, and she felt complete for the first time in her life.

  “I love you, Kyle Tilston!” she yelled as loud as she could.

  “I love you too, Leigh!” he shouted back.

  Car horns blowing loud. They both looked up at the traffic light. Green.

  He smiled and pointed a finger ahead. She returned his smile. Then they stomped their pedals to the floor, and the roar of the engines filled the morning air as Kyle and Leigh raced into the future, side by side.

  THE END

  EPILOUGE

  Kyle Tilston and Leigh Thompson were married on August 20th of that same year, alongside Rob Fenton and Mindy Whitlow in a double wedding. Kyle went on to a successful career as an author, writing twelve best- selling novels. Kyle and Leigh purchased the land where they first made love – one hundred acres in all - and built a large, log cabin house on that hill. They filled the home with five children: three girls and two boys. They loved each other all of their lives.

  Rob and Mindy Fenton started Fenton Sportswear in Charlotte, and the successful business grew to a chain of 25 stores across the southeast. They could not have their own, but adopted three beautiful children. The Fentons remained lifelong friends of the Tilstons, and Carley Tilston, daughter and second oldest of Kyle and Leigh, would one day marry Brock Fenton, the eldest son of Rob and Mindy.

  Gene Sykes moved to New York City and joined his father’s firm there just one month after the break up with Leigh. But he inexplicably quit the firm after six months, a move that resulted in a severe strain on his relationship with his father, one that would remain the rest of their days. He moved to Chicago soon after and opened a small office, taking on only select cases. The practice never grew beyond himself and a paralegal/secretary. He visited his parents in Charlotte on the holidays while they were alive, and after their passing, he never returned. He died at the age of seventy-nine in an assisted living facility, and the attendant on duty reported that the counselor’s last words were only one: “Leigh.”

  He was a lifelong bachelor.