After the Rain

by Bruce, Brandy

  Sitting on that sofa again, I sat with crossed legs and ran my sweaty hands down my jeans. She just listened as I told her everything from telling Ben I loved him at Christmas to the breakup call to the photos of him and Rachel. I told her about going home to Minnesota, missing my family so much but still feeling as though I were searching for something.

  “Andy says I should fight for Ben,” I said, clearing my throat when the words were difficult to get out.

  Dr. Clark’s smooth black hair was in a tight bun at the base of her neck. I was having trouble adjusting to her new box-framed deep purple glasses. Maybe recognizing my distraction, she took off the glasses and stuck them in the desk drawer.

  “Is that what you think?”

  I sighed deeply. “I don’t know. I know I don’t really want to lose him, but it’s not in me to fight right now. I’m too wary of being hurt. I don’t think anything’s going on with that singer—but what if there was? Or what if he wanted something to happen with her? Or the next girl on the road with him? Or some willing fan who’s waiting by the stage? I don’t want to be the discarded one again.”

  “Were you discarded, Debra?” she asked, her voice calm and steady. “Or did Luke learn who he was and what he needed? I think sometimes we have to be brave enough to change directions when we need to. Maybe that’s what Luke did. And now you’re at a crossroads and have to decide what direction you want to go in.”

  My arms had been crossed tight over my belly, but the tension began to ease. She was right about Luke.

  “What if Ben needs to change directions and wants someone else?” I tried to ask the question without my voice trembling, but it didn’t work.

  “I think—from what you’ve told me—that perhaps Ben knows who he is at this point in his life.”

  “But everything has changed for him!”

  “Everything has changed for you,” Dr. Clark pointed out.

  Yes, it had.

  “Who are you, Debra? Think for a moment; then tell me what comes to mind.”

  “I don’t know,” I cried.

  “You do. Tell me.”

  I clasped my hands for a few seconds and stared out the window behind Dr. Clark’s head. A mountain landscape could barely be seen in the far distance.

  “I’m just this girl who loved someone once with her whole heart; then he gave it back to her. It’s not really a unique story.”

  Dr. Clark stood up and walked around her desk. She sat on the sofa next to me. “First, every story is unique. Second, that’s who you were. Who are you now?”

  “I’m—a woman who can take care of herself.”

  Dr. Clark nodded encouragingly. “Yes, you are.”

  “I’m comfortable alone. I don’t think that was true of me before, but it is now. Sometimes I even crave it. But not all the time. I still love music and theater and dancing and pink lipstick. I like being with Paige. I love my family. I like living in Colorado.”

  “All good things,” Dr. Clark agreed.

  “I might not be as spiritual as I was before. Do you think that’s okay?”

  “I think you’re very spiritual, Debra. I just think it looks different for you than it used to, and that’s absolutely okay. Your journey is your own.” Dr. Clark set one manicured hand on her knee, and I couldn’t help noticing how perfect her acrylic nails looked. That made me think of how badly I needed a manicure.

  It occurred to me those probably weren’t the right thoughts to have during a therapy session.

  “How do you feel about Ben?”

  “I don’t want to lose him, but I don’t want to chase him. Does that make any sense? I’m not in a rush this time around. Maybe that means we’re not meant to be together.”

  “Why would it mean that?”

  I laid my head back and exhaled. “I don’t know. With Luke, I wanted everything fast. I was so convinced that he was my match, and I just wanted to start our lives together as soon as possible. Why wait when you know? That all ended up being one sided, of course.”

  “Slowing things down this time makes perfect sense. You don’t have to chase Ben, Debra, but is some of that fear? Are you afraid of going all in with this relationship?”

  I closed my eyes. “Maybe. He could still walk away.”

  “So could you. In fact, in some ways you have.”

  I thought of the breakup conversation I’d initiated.

  “You know what life on the road is like for a musician,” she said gently. “You opened the doors that gave him this opportunity. Would you rather he gave that up and came back home to be with you?”

  I shook my head. “No. I did it because I believe in him. I still believe in him.”

  “What about the house? Have you signed the paperwork?”

  I licked my lips and clenched my fists nervously. “Yes. I signed everything a couple of days ago. It’ll be all shiny and new.” I tried to force my voice to lighten. “And it will be mine. I already bought a new welcome mat for the front porch.”

  “This is what you want?” Dr. Clark pushed. I didn’t answer.

  She sighed. “I’ve wanted to avoid any comparisons, but I think we need to get this out. How are your feelings for Ben … compared to how you felt with Luke?”

  I looked at my own unmanicured hands. My empty ring finger.

  “So different. I was so different with Luke. It almost makes me sad that Ben doesn’t get that side of me. Fun and outgoing and willing and open and passionate. This version of me seems boring in comparison.”

  “You’re definitely not boring.” Dr. Clark smiled. “There are lots of facets to who we are. You see me here, in this quiet, calm space—and you’d probably think it was strange to see me screaming on a roller coaster, but that’s one of my favorite pastimes.”

  I bit my lip to keep a chuckle from escaping. “Seriously?”

  She laughed and nodded. “You can be more introspective and still love a good party. You can thrive on being around lots of people but then sigh with relief when you have a quiet Friday night at home—just you and Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. You can be cautious with your decisions, but once you’ve made one, you hit the ground running. You can be someone in tune with God but also open to that relationship looking different from what you’re used to. Debra, you went from being someone who hated working out to being a woman who likes to run. There’s no growth without change.”

  I thought of Paige. There’s no growth without rain.

  “With or without Ben, you are strong. But being strong doesn’t have to mean being alone. You don’t have to rush, Debra. You don’t have to do anything. Tell me this—how do you feel whenever you’re with Ben?”

  I didn’t answer for a moment, trying to think of the right words. I thought of his tattoos. Isaiah 43:19. God making a way through the wilderness and a stream in the desert. Sadie.

  I pictured him onstage at Percival’s, eyes closed, mouth on his microphone, singing “Ruin” from out of his own brokenness. Then at church, both arms outstretched, leading hundreds of people in worship. I saw him flying through the air into the cold water of the river, cooking dinner and breakfast for the campers, handing me a cup of cider, looking at me with longing in his eyes. I remembered how he looked the night we went to the theater—so handsome and so excited to spend the evening with me. I thought of how it was when we danced in the snow. I still felt the fire burning in me as we argued on the phone. And my breath stopped as I thought of the heat rising in both of us every time his lips pressed hard on mine.

  Ben.

  “I feel like I’ve found the guy who I want to be the soundtrack to my life.”

  Sunday morning, I went down to the gym for an hour, then watched Gilly over lunch while Cassidy and Jake went out for a quick coffee date. When they picked her up, I was peppered with questions about how Ben and his band were doing and when he would be back. I was thinking of texting Paige, asking her to come over for dinner, when someone knocked at the door. I picked up Gilly’s rattle, figuring Cas
sidy had come back for it.

  I swung open the door and dropped the rattle. Ben Price stood on my welcome mat.

  All my frustration over the pictures with all the girls, not to mention me hanging up on him, was temporarily forgotten as I threw myself at him.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked when I pulled back from the hug, motioning for him to come inside.

  “We need to talk,” he said, his eyebrows rising.

  “Oh-kay. Pretty sure we could do that over the phone.” I closed the door behind him.

  He sighed and dropped a duffle bag on the floor. “Not this conversation.”

  Dread washed over me.

  “We need to talk about us. And Rachel de la Rosa,” he said with resignation. “Let’s sit down.”

  He sat on the sofa, and I moved to sit by him, still unnerved that he was here, in Denver, in my apartment.

  “You’re making me nervous,” I said, trying to chuckle.

  Ben scratched his head, then tucked his long hair behind his ears. “Listen, she’s cute—”

  My chuckle disappeared and was replaced by a firm grimace. “Ben—”

  He held up one finger. “Hold on. Just let me talk; then I’ll listen to whatever.”

  I crossed my arms.

  “Debra, Rachel is like a teenager.”

  “Try twenty-five,” I corrected.

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m saying, she’s young. She’s got a lot of attention and money, and she’s out there, doing her thing. We met after the festival at this big get together with the press. People snapped pictures. I talked to her briefly. She was on the way to, unfortunately, being wasted. I hope she’s got good people looking out for her. Anyway, that was it. She has called me—” My eyes widened. “Carlisle gave her my number. We’ve since had a discussion about giving out my number. She’s called; I’ve let her know I’ve got a serious girlfriend. That’s it.”

  “You’ve got a serious girlfriend?” I echoed in mock surprise, eyes large.

  He gave me a stern look. “Yeah. She’s a radio show host who tells all of Denver that she’s in love with me but keeps trying to break things off.”

  An unexpected burst of laughter escaped me. I covered my mouth, trying to rein it in. “Have you been listening to the show online?” I asked. He sighed loudly and looked up to the ceiling.

  “Of course I listen to the show online.” He rested his arm on the back of the sofa and looked over at me, weariness in his eyes. “If you love me and I love you—please stop breaking up with me.”

  Another short burst of laughter erupted, this one tinged with tears. “You could change your mind. You could do something stupid with some cute pop star and ruin everything,” I whispered.

  That time, Ben laughed. He rubbed his eyes. “Well, at least we know you’ll always keep me grounded.” The laughter faded and he touched my curls. “Debra, you’re right. I could make a mistake. Or you could. People aren’t perfect, least of all me. But if we’re working at this—at us—I think we’ll be okay. No one is perfect. That’s not a reason not to be in a relationship when you find somebody you want to be with. And because I love you, I need you to include me when something as important as your grandma getting sick happens.”

  The rigid strain in my neck and shoulders eased up somewhat.

  “I’m sorry.” My voice cracked and I started to cry. “I didn’t mean—”

  “Deb,” Ben broke in. He pulled me closer, closing his eyes, holding me, sighing like he’d been in pain before this moment. “It’s okay. Just—tell me you want this too.”

  My arms wrapped around him. “I want this too. What you said about not being my first choice ...” I had to stop and try to breathe.

  His eyes filled with worry. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m—”

  I shook my head. “No. I want you to say what you’re feeling. That’s who we are, Ben. But I need you to know that it doesn’t matter about being first. You are my only choice because you’re the one I want. You’re the one, Ben.” I kissed him softly, then searched his eyes, hoping he believed me.

  His gaze met mine, and I could see that my words had met their mark. The worried crinkles at the corners of his eyes relaxed. The tension in his jaw vanished. “I had Karis take down all questionable pictures, and I told her I don’t want her posting anything with just me and another girl.”

  “Thanks for that,” I said.

  He nodded. “What else can I do? You know there will be more Rachel de la Rosas. You knew that going in. Seriously, I want you to tell me what you need from me.”

  He looked so tired. Sitting on my sofa, jumping on a last-minute flight just for me—I started thinking he’d already done what I needed. But he was asking for specifics.

  “Let me think about that, okay? We might need to be more intentional about talking every day. I’ll tell you what ideas I come up with.” I massaged his neck and his eyes closed. “Are you hungry?” I asked. “I was thinking about ordering Indian food.”

  He nodded but didn’t open his eyes. “Sounds good.”

  Later, over chicken curry, rice, and naan bread, Ben talked more about the tour, what Carlisle was doing for them now that he was officially the manager for Twenty-Four Tears.

  “We’ve got a label looking at us. Carlisle is having talks with Just-the-Beats Records.”

  My fork paused midway to my mouth. “Oh my gosh.”

  Ben tore a piece of bread in half. “It’s not for sure. Bryce is trying not to get his hopes up. But it could happen.”

  I finished my bite of food, mulling over the thought of Twenty-Four Tears getting signed to a label.

  “Does that mean ... will you need to move to L.A.?” I worked hard to keep my voice steady.

  He just stared at me for a moment. Then his hand went softly to the back of my neck, his fingers intertwined in my hair. “I know you just bought a house, Deb. I don’t want to relocate. I figure I’ll just fly out a lot if I need to. We can make it work. If you’re here—I’m here. You matter more than the music.”

  I sucked in a shaky breath and willed my chin not to quiver. “You matter more than the house. I pulled out of the contract.”

  His brow wrinkled. “What? How?”

  “There was a one-week grace period to change my mind. I went to the office at the model home yesterday and backed out.”

  “You changed your mind?” He held my hand and kept his eyes glued to me.

  “I did,” I said simply, lifting and dropping my shoulders. “I wanted the house to be”—I paused, thinking of Dr. Clark—“my way of planting roots here. But the money, the timing—I realized that I wasn’t sure. And I need to be sure. Yesterday morning I went back to the sales office and met with Mrs. Shumaker. I lost some money—which hurts financially and emotionally—but it was the right thing to do.”

  With Luke, I’d had no reservations whatsoever. I’d been so ready. But with the house, I’d had just enough uncertainty—maybe that was how Luke had felt. The need to slow down, the sense of being rushed, the fear of making a commitment he wouldn’t want to keep. I’d pulled out of the contract, not worried about the money—more worried about signing up for something I didn’t really want. Now, thinking of Luke, that terrible night, his eyes glossy with tears, the shame in his voice—I could forgive him for doing what he’d needed to. He let me go and held on to who he was.

  On the other side of that was a slightly changed version of myself. And in the mirror of Ben’s gaze on me, I could see what he saw. This woman a little wiser, a little more thoughtful. A new current of steadiness that rushed through me like a stream. That thought reminded me of Nana. Maybe I was like her in ways I hadn’t realized before.

  In that moment, I wanted to dance. Because if I was sure of one thing only, it was that Ben Price had overtaken my heart and I never wanted to be the same again.

  I blinked, decidedly keeping all those thoughts to myself. I squeezed his hand. “I’ve got a couple more months till my lease is up. I can look for
another place or sign another agreement for this apartment.”

  He raised both eyebrows. “So ... this has nothing to do with me?”

  A small chuckle escaped me and tears filled my eyes. “It has everything to do with you. As you know—as all of Denver knows— I’m crazy in love with you.”

  He smiled, relief smoothing the lines on his forehead. “Oh, good. I was afraid I was reading the signs wrong.” He kissed my mouth, then the tip of my nose, then my eyes; then he pulled me into a tight embrace. “I’m crazy in love with you too.”

  I buried my head in his shoulder, overwhelmed by the avalanche of feelings rushing over me. So much love swirled in and over my heart, leaving no more room for anger.

  After a moment, Ben tipped my chin upward to face him. “I really want you to come out for our last show, end of May. It’s in Dallas. I’ll fly you there.”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll ask off. I’ve been storing up vacation time and volunteering for holidays, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  Ben wiped a tear from his face with the back of his hand. “We’re an us, Miss Lonely Heart. And we’re not a secret. You can go ahead and tell your radio listeners.”

  When Ben left that night, I washed the few dishes in the sink, my Pandora show-tunes station playing in the background. I dried my hands and turned on the dishwasher and paused as a new song began. My heart skipped a beat as “Summer Nights” from Grease came on. The music filled the small space that was my apartment, and my heart could hardly take it. Heady with feelings and thoughts of Ben and hope for a future I’d given up on—I had to sing. I’d known every word by heart since I was fifteen and they flowed from me now. I twirled through the kitchen, singing about young love and the heat of summer nights (not too loudly. I didn’t want to wake up Gilly after all). I clasped my hands together like Olivia Newton John. My hair brushed across my face as I danced from my kitchen to outside on my back porch in my pajamas, performing to glittering lights scattered through Denver’s dark sky.

  And when the song ended, I fell onto the sofa, sweat glistening on my forehead, my heart aching with something like relief and gratitude and belief and love.