Between The Raindrops

by K. Pinson

  It’s certainly not going to be an easy transition. I still, in the back of my muddled up mind, think that this is all a dream and I’m going to wake up any moment. Or maybe that I’m being punked and the hidden cameras will reveal themselves soon enough. But then I remember, this isn’t a joke and it’s not funny. This is real life and it’s a huge decision that I’m making. It doesn’t just affect me. I am justifying burying myself, instead of Heaven, for your stereotypical version of a better life. I just hope that the grass really is greener over on this side. That all of this won’t be for nothing. I shake the discouraging thoughts from my head, take a deep breath and leave the room with my head held as high as possible under the circumstances.

  I walk down the grand staircase and Mother meets me at the bottom. She looks positively pleased. She nods her head and takes me by the arm when I reach the bottom. Father is already out in the car. My stomach is twisted in knots. When I step into the car, he refuses to even look me in the eyes. I want to grab him by the face and scream that I’m doing all of this for him, but I know in my heart that would be a lie. I’m doing this for me. I can’t yet fully understand why, but I know I am.

  When we pull up at the cemetery, I scan the grounds in search of my husband. That word doesn’t even kind of roll off the tongue the way that it should. My hands are shaking life a leaf, but I attempt to pull it together. I see him across the way, looking down into the ground where they’re going to lower Heaven’s body. My stomach lurches and I feel like the contents are going to expel at any moment. How the hell can I do this? This man, whom I’ve never met, has no idea that the woman he actually loves is dead. I have the audacity to try and take her place...all for selfish reasons and recognition from a family that never seemed to care before this moment. I don’t understand why my heart and head aren’t on the same page with this one. It’s like this voice in the back of my head, one that sounds an awful lot like the fluid angelic one that my sister had, is screaming at me to continue with the original plan. To take emotions out of the equation and make the best out of a new life. This is like a second chance for me. A new beginning, but it feels like I’m dying right along with her. The real me is at least.

  I study him for a moment further before my mother comes out from behind me and not so gently nudges me in the back. My feet begin moving and I’m walking with compulsion towards my sister’s final resting place. I suddenly halt and my mother runs right into the back of me. I look around, planning my escape. This is all too much. The breath is pulled from my body and expelled into the cool air that surrounds me. I wish it were me, not her.

  “What are you doing, Heaven?” she whispers with cold cruelty into my ear.

  “My name is not Heaven.” I respond on auto-tune. I’ve turned my emotions off at this point. All I feel is numbness.

  “It is now. You have to do this, Heaven. Your sister would want you to.” She seems sure of that fact, oddly sure.

  “And what about him?” I question, nodding my head towards the handsome stranger across the way. He still had yet to notice my arrival.

  “Their relationship is one of opportunity and advancement in their field. It has never been about love. Not even in the beginning. You look identical to your sister that much cannot be denied by you or anybody else. You will do just fine. He will also survive. This is a new start for you. Are you really going to squander it just like that of your former life? Are you going to disappoint us yet again?” Her tone is calm, but I know better. She is guilting me and sadly, it is working.

  “I don’t want to hurt anybody, Mother.” I respond. I meant it. I don’t want to hurt this man or Heaven’s friends. I don’t want to hurt my family anymore either.

  “Then don’t.”

  She comes around to my side and grabs a hold of my hand, like a mother would do to a small child. She leads me over to where the casket rests on a platform, ready to be lowered into the ground. The grounds are oddly vacant, but I’m not surprised. A few unfamiliar faces, Tate, my mother, father, and someone I haven’t seen in years. He lingers in the back and my breath is stolen. I honestly never thought I’d see him again.

  Ryker Owens, my high school sweetheart, who I haven’t spoken to since I dropped out my senior year, what feels like forever ago. He looks exactly the same as I remember. Windswept black hair that hangs just a fraction into his deep sapphire eyes. Tattoos adorning the length of his body. Small in stature, but muscular in every place that counts. He looks determined. He always looks that way. As if he is ready to combat the world, constantly on the defense. It was something that I used to admire about him. That I was first and foremost in his world and everything else came second. That all crashed around me as soon as my parents chased him away. I thought he would have fought for me, but he just didn’t. That has been something I really struggled to let go throughout the years. He looks up just in time to catch my eyes with his. His brows furrow in frustration and recognition. I tilt my head so that my eyes are downcast. I can’t give up on this now. I am already in too deep.

  He begins to walk over so I hurriedly latch on to the nearest person, hoping to detour his efforts. That person is Tate.

  “Hey, babe.” He leans down to whisper, placing a chaste kiss to my cheek. “You look beautiful.” I meet his eyes. The man is perfect in every sense of the word. I’m not sure that I could pin point a flaw if I wanted to. It seems as if the confidence that he holds would be able to make any flaw seem like a good thing. He makes those around him want to mimic his every move.

  “Hi.” I respond. I don’t want to come off as distant, but maybe I can hide my uncomfortable stature with that of grief.

  He tosses his arm around my shoulder and pulls me against his side. I fit perfectly in the crook of his arm, just like Heaven would have. The differences between her and I were honestly unrecognizable to the naked eye. On the surface, we were identical, but our personalities couldn’t have been more opposite. I am quiet and reserved, only sarcastic when I’m familiar with someone. Heaven was loud and outgoing, a friend to everyone. She could light up any room with her mere existence. I am the dark cloud that just kind of hovers, unwanted.

  He leads me away from the small crowd of people and over to a desolate area, behind an old oak tree. I am grateful for the distance away from Ryker and the finality smothering me. Also, for the air that is filling my lungs not a moment too soon. I know for sure that even a second longer of my past invading my present, a panic attack was just over the horizon, ready to hit me full force.

  Tate places his hand gently underneath my chin, bringing his lips to mine. Caressing them as faintly as a whisper in the wind. I instantly feel tingles from my toes proceeding all the way up my body. It was oddly comforting, considering the strange situation I find myself in.

  “I’m not going to ask if you’re okay. I know you’re not. I mean, how could you be? But I am here and with you, one hundred percent. I just wanted you to know.” His sincerity seems present enough.

  “Thanks.” I quietly respond. I have nothing else to say.

  He smiles large with a full set of perfectly white teeth and something feels unsettling in it. I push the thought away and grab a hold of his hand. It feels right, like what Heaven would have done. We ascend from the tree and head back towards my sister’s final resting place. Ryker is no where in sight.

  The service passes quickly. It was peaceful and all too calm. I didn’t even shed a single tear. Nothing has ever felt more wrong to me.

  When she is lowered into the ground, my mother runs up and throws herself in front of the casket. The beating in my chest nearly stills because I thought right then, our charade would be over. Anyone that knew my mother, knows she wouldn’t react that way to my death. But nobody bats an eyelash.

  When the crowd evaporates, my mother comes over and kissed me on the cheek and leaves with my father in tow. I am left alone at Heaven’s grave, holding hands with her husband.

  “Goodbye. I’m sorry.” I whisper. I have nothing els
e to offer. No comforting words for a life that ended all too soon. Nothing to say about how I would be stealing it, going on like I could do it as well as she could. I have a feeling that by the end of the day, the only person I will be fooling was myself and even that was a far stretch of the imagination.

  Deep down, I know that this isn’t right. I do have somewhat of a conscious still intact. I realize that although her life may have been blessed in ways that mine was not, that doesn’t make it an easier one to live. But I’ve never been one to look for easy anyway. I’m always up for a challenge. That’s the fake it until you make it part of me. Live a fighter, die a fighter. For just a brief moment, I wish it were really me in that ground.

  Chapter 5

  The drive over is silent and awkward. I roll down my window and let the chill night air drown out my thoughts. The road ahead is paved to destruction and here I sit in the passenger seat, allowing myself to be decimated. The house we pull up to is one of the largest I have ever seen. Coming from the street, this is huge. I knew Heaven had money, she was in every popular movie you could think of, but this is even more than I could have ever imagined. When Tate shuts off the engine of his Audi, I begin to shake uncontrollably. I can’t get a grip on my emotions. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I tense up instantly. Chills run down my spine.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart, we’re home.” I look up at this huge house, it is not home. I had left my home behind and it isn’t going to be easy to create a new one. I nod my head and attempt to give a smile. I’m no actress.

  “Why are you shaking so hard, babe?”

  I don’t have a truthful answer for that question. Not one that I can actually tell him.

  “I’m fine. Just a long day.”

  I open the car door and step out on wobbly legs. Before I can even catch myself, I go down hard on one knee. The pain is nothing compared to what I have been feeling all day, so I don’t even call out. It is no more than a few seconds later and Tate is scooping me up into his muscular arms.

  “I’ve got you.” His deep voice resonates in my ear, seeming far more distant that it is.

  I will my arms to wrap around his neck for added security. I tuck my head firmly against his chest as a single tear slides down my cheek. I hope for it to go unnoticed.

  He opens the front door using a keyless entry pad, located where a doorbell would be. The technology is way more advanced than anything I am used to. The difficulty I’m going to have getting used to it, without Tate noticing that I’m not, is at the forefront of my mind, holding hands with all of the other troubling thoughts that will have to go unanswered for now. My brain is far too consumed to worry about it. I’m learning that I need to just take things as they come. That’s the only way I’m going to get through this. I think eventually I will get used to it. Just the same way that girls do eventually when they are involved in an arranged marriage. The biggest difference is that I’m the only party in this relationship that knows we’re strangers. It would probably be a little more reassuring if you had someone else that was just as scared shitless as you are. Instead, I’m walking around blind and alone.

  He carries me into their, I mean our, house. I instantly recognize Heaven’s personality splashing throughout the room with every piece of colorful decor so artfully placed. This house was so her, everything about it screamed her name and begged for the same attention that she easily acquired. I smile faintly, first real one of the day. My only wish now is that I could have seen her home, something I’m sure she was proud of, while she was still alive. Been happy for her then.

  He places me gently on my feet and I nod up at him before he has the chance to ask if I am steady. My legs feel a lot more land ready. I take a few steps forward just to make sure and everything goes smoothly.

  I remember him asking me if I’d like something to drink or eat, but my mind has already started to numb. Shutting off and giving up for the night. I mumble a faint no and head directly towards the stairs. Hoping to find the bedroom easily, any bedroom. I am thankful that Tate doesn’t follow me, letting me have space. It feels a little less intimidating as I continuously open doors of vacant rooms, none of which even houses a bed, without him looking over my shoulder. I finally came to the last door at the end of a very long hallway and there stands her room. I can smell her as soon as I open it. It is familiar and all encompassing, I like it. I make way to where her vanity sets off to the side, but still taking up great precedence in the room. I sit down at it and stare at my reflection in the mirror, her mirror, and quietly wondered to myself how in the hell I am going to convince everyone around me that I could be her, as good as her, when I couldn’t even convince myself.

  I hear the door creak behind me, shaking me of my thoughts and startling me just enough to get a small shriek out of my tightly sealed lips. I hear a faint laugh and I turn around slowly to find Tate, my now husband, standing in the doorway. He really is attractive and everything I have never been attracted to. Muscular, tan, blond hair, blue eyes; he is definitely the Ken to Heaven’s Barbie. I bet they looked perfect together.

  He walks over to me and wraps his strong arms around me, I shiver. It is hard for me to feel comfortable around this stranger, but I have to pretend. I can’t tell if it is just a lack of social skills on my part, ones that I have never really acquired with men or if this is something else entirely.

  “Want me to undress you, baby?” His smooth voice rolls over me like a large wave, beautiful but shocking.

  “Uh...” I stutter, not knowing how to let him down gently. I’m just not ready for this yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be. It all feels way too much like betrayal. “I can do it. You must be exhausted, too.” I give a small smile, rush over to a dresser, grab the first thing my hand touches and rush into the adjoined master bathroom to change. I am impressed by how quickly I am able to do all of that with minimal eye contact.

  I turn on the water in the sink as hot as it can get, I need to at least wash my face after this horrible day. My energy to bathe is null and void. I lather up a wash cloth with the bar soap that was left on a dish on the counter and go to town, scrubbing every inch of my sadness off my face. I splash myself numerous times with the scalding water, hoping to feel some semblance of a burn, but yet I still feel nothing at all. I sew in the mirror my pale skin has turned a bright pink, but I don’t care. I undress and slip into the nightgown that I have grabbed, not paying any attention while putting it on. Upon looking at myself in the mirror one final time, I notice that I am wearing something entirely too sexy for my first night with husband stranger. The nightgown fits me perfectly, hugging every curve of my body. It is white with a very sexy lace trim that hangs a bit higher than mid-thigh, almost exposing myself. My breasts were nearly on full display at the top, cleavage for days. I didn’t have a choice now. It was either this or the clothes that I had donned to the funeral. That wouldn’t look suspicious at all. I put on my brave face, take a deep breath and exit the bathroom. I look around the room upon entering, hoping to spot a light switch nearby so I could flick it off quickly on my way to the bed. No such luck, though.

  Tate notices my hesitation and when my eyes met his, he looks extremely confused.

  “Wow.” He utters breathlessly. “You look amazing, babe. You haven’t wore that since our honeymoon. I didn’t think you ever would again. You were so mad at me when we had to cut the vacation short, so that I could get back on set.”

  My face has to be a very obvious shade of red now, skipping the pink entirely. Shit.

  “The satin feels comforting against my skin and I’m not feeling very well tonight.” I cover up my blatant mistake the best way that I can. It’s true though, satin always does feel comforting to me. Not sure if Heaven felt the same way though.

  “Well, come get in bed, babe. I’ll rub your belly.” Such a simple phrase should not have come out sounding as seductive as it did to me. I mean, Jamison is always blunt with me, but something seems a lot more naughty with Tate; forbidden. I
pad over to the bed and climb beneath the covers that are already pulled back and waiting for me. I instantly face away from Tate. Hoping to eliminate any thoughts he may be having of anything more than a cuddle. I pull my knees up against my chest, almost in fetal position. I hear a whistle and a sharp intake of breath.

  “I know you don’t feel good baby, but damn, you shouldn’t put your ass on full display like that when I’m trying to be a good boy.” I can feel heat rush through my body instantly. But not necessarily in a good way. I’m fully embarrassed now and really just want to get up and take a cold shower.

  “Rub my belly until I fall asleep?” I say in a sweet voice to try and distract him. I’d rather have him do that then rub where he really wants to. I slowly uncurl my legs and straighten them so my nightgown will go down as far as possible and expose very minimal skin. Well minimal for this night gown, it is pretty revealing. I know that the damage is already done. But that doesn’t mean I want to reveal anymore of myself to him tonight.

  “You don’t even have to ask, babe.” He responds easily. Like we’ve done this a million times.

  He places his hands against my covered stomach and begins to gently rub in a circular motion. His hands are not rough or calloused like Jamison’s. But instead, they are perfect and soft. I can tell that Tate has had to do little to no manual labor throughout his life. I don’t like the feel of his hands, as much as I miss Jamison’s. It sounds weird. You would think that soft would be better, but there is just something more appealing to me about working hands. Tate rubbing me feels entirely wrong, so I force my eyes closed and try to sleep. After a while, his hands still and fall down in front of me. He’s exhaling even breaths and I’m thankful for the small sign letting me know that he has fallen asleep. I wait a couple of minutes before calmly lifting his arm and sliding myself underneath it. I gently lay it back down on the bed and head for the stairs. I waste no time going down and curling up on the couch. I’m glad there’s a convenient throw blanket right on the back of it. I cover myself up and get as comfortable as possible. I know that even if I had to sleep on the hard ground, it would feel less uneasy than sleeping in bed with him. A man that I don’t even know from Adam.