Raising Rain

by Debbie Fuller Thomas

  She wished now that her mother had never had the idea about the Celebration and had been content to just enjoy the rest of her time. Now their tenuous relationship was strained again, and they were back to square one.

  Rain pulled into her garage and let Noah inside. She breathed a sigh of relief that the holiday was finally over, but what a horrible way to think about Christmas. Would it be like this every year, she wondered? She hadn’t spent the holiday alone for eight years, and she didn’t like it very much.

  She noticed that her answering machine light was blinking, and she pushed Play. She recognized Hayden’s voice immediately.

  “Hello. Rain. I tried your cell phone, but didn’t have any luck reaching you. You must be out. Just wanted to wish you a merry Christmas and . . . well . . . Merry Christmas.’Bye.”

  She grabbed her cell phone and saw that she had missed a call, but he hadn’t left a message. She played the answering machine again, dissecting the message for any nuance of hidden meaning.

  Should she call him back, she wondered? It was eleven o’clock. Would she seem desperate if she called him back so late? She decided to send him an e-mail instead. She thanked him for calling and said she had been at her mom’s.

  Could it be that he missed her, too?

  Bebe discovered that Scott had seemed uncomfortable around her because he was afraid she would be angry that he passed her letter along to Bobby. He’d avoided discussing it with her for that very reason. She hugged him and thanked him for following his intuition, and he said that he never doubted her support, but joked that if she joined another protest, he would track her down.

  Once she felt better about Bobby and Scott, ideas to fix Jude’s botched Celebration came more easily. She arranged to have a conference call with Mare and Toni and discussed several ideas with them. They finally reached an agreement on one idea in particular and decided to follow through, with or without Jude’s blessing. Bebe agreed to be the one to tell Jude. She called William and arranged a time on Saturday when she could come by. He said Jude really wasn’t up to visitors, and it had to be brief.

  Bebe didn’t ask Rain if she wanted to go along. There were some things she felt she needed to say to Jude alone. She pulled up to the house and said a prayer before going in. William met her at the door, speaking quietly, and cautioning her that Jude was failing.

  They had made arrangements with a hospice nurse. Against Jude’s wishes, the hospice nurse had advised William to move Jude to a bedroom downstairs so that he could keep a constant watch on her and hear if she needed anything at night.

  He told Bebe that he’d recently administered one of her strong medications and that her conversation might not make sense when it completely kicked in. He pushed the door open and let Jude know that Bebe was there.

  The room smelled strongly of urine and medications, and medical equipment waited in the corner of the room. Bebe was surprised at how quickly Jude had declined in two weeks, as though she’d gone home from the Celebration weekend and given up. Her facial skin now stretched over her bones, thin and transparent. Bebe tried to keep her countenance in check, but Jude’s mind was sharper than her body.

  “It must be bad,” she said, taking shallow breaths. “William took the mirror away.”

  Bebe pulled up a chair beside the bed. “I’m sorry about the weekend, Jude. Things got kind of crazy. It must have been disappointing for you.”

  Jude managed a brief, sad smile. “Like old times.”

  Bebe smiled back, in spite of herself. “It came pretty close.”

  “It wasn’t all bad, was it?” Jude asked.

  “The weekend? No.”

  Jude shook her head minutely. “The Victorian.”

  “Oh.” Memories of a young, vivacious Jude came to her mind. “No, there were some good times. There was Rain. I’m thankful for that.” Bebe hesitated, and then added, “Jude, I’ve been thinking about our conversation at the aquarium.”

  The frown lines on Jude’s forehead deepened. “Don’t want any sermons.”

  “I’m not going to preach any. But I’m open for conversation.”

  “Already had one with your God.” Jude licked her lips. “Intend to finish it in person.”

  Surprised by her admission, Bebe started to speak but Jude added firmly, punctuating each word, “End of discussion.” Jude took a deeper breath and licked her parched lips. “Ice, please.”

  Bebe took the cup of crushed ice from her nightstand and spooned some into her mouth. Jude sucked on it.

  “I came to tell you about the cause we decided on,” Bebe said.

  Jude raised her eyebrows.

  “You know Toni’s husband, Lawrence, gets grant money for colleges. Well, he’s going to help us set up an endowment in your name to help young women have money for college. The principal is never spent, so each year the interest is given out as scholarship money. We’ll figure out ways to add to the principal each year so it will grow, and we need to discuss the criteria for selecting recipients.”

  Jude’s brows knitted together. “Only for women’s studies.”

  “We’ll consider it. But young women need to be able to make their own choices. You leave that up to us. We’ll pull Rain in on it, too.”

  Jude ran her tongue over her lips. “I hurt a woman once.”

  “Jude, how did you hurt a woman?”

  “Won a case. Denied her settlement. She had a child.” Her face twisted briefly until she struggled and won composure. “It was wrong.”

  Bebe was touched by another breach in Jude’s vulnerability and sensed that this was her last opportunity to speak frankly with Jude in private.

  “Jude, I need to apologize to you,” she began, finding it more difficult than she’d expected, yet sensing the urgency. “Back when Rain was born, I felt so guilty and so responsible for losing the baby, that I wanted Rain for my own, like a surrogate. But that was no way to make it right. Sometimes I stole the affection she should have given to you. I tried to be her mother, for all the wrong reasons.”

  Jude closed her eyes momentarily and Bebe could see her medication was taking effect. Then her face drew up as if in pain, and Bebe almost called for William, but she spoke again with effort. “He said to do what I wanted (breath) with the baby.” Tears ran from the corners of her eyes.

  Bebe cast about for the meaning to her words, fearing the tenuous opening into her feelings would close. “You mean Rain’s father?”

  She nodded lazily.

  “Who was it, Jude?”

  She barely shook her head against the pillow. “He was no good father.”

  Bebe understood. Jude didn’t want Rain to know who her father was because he wasn’t a good father. She thought it was better not to know, than to burden Rain with that image of being unwanted.

  “We had the right to decide.” She took several breaths. “About our bodies.”

  Bebe waited.

  “Mine betrayed me.”

  Then Jude drifted off to sleep, her breath fluttering. Bebe sat for a long time in the silence, listening to her shallow breathing, asking for mercy for this woman who birthed the daughter they shared. How different their lives would have been if Rain’s father had loved her mother.

  Bebe laid her hand gently on top of Jude’s in farewell. As she was leaving, she noticed a small booklet with a pastoral scene on the cover lying on Jude’s nightstand. Bebe glanced at Jude, then picked it up and flipped through to discover it was a collection of devotions from Scripture for people suffering with illness. It was slightly frayed and dogeared. Jude’s comments came back to her about the conversation she’d had with God, and Bebe hoped it meant she had found her peace.

  She came out wiping her eyes and William put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s hard,” he said, pulling out his handkerchief.

  “Do you think she’ll remember when she wakes up?”

  “Probably only the parts when she was most coherent.”

  He walked her to the door. “She wants to
be cremated and her ashes scattered in the bay.”

  Bebe nodded. “Yes, she mentioned that.”

  “She’s already arranged everything for a ceremony under the Golden Gate Bridge.” He paused with the door open. “I don’t know what went on over that Celebration weekend, but she came back and made her arrangements the very next day.”

  Bebe promised to keep in touch, and she left. In spite of her heavy loss, Bebe felt a lightness for having apologized to her and a freedom that Jude held no apparent grudges, which was ironic because Bebe’s liberation was what Jude had fought for all along.

  Rain arranged for time off from work to stay with her mother. She could tell William was glad to have her help and companionship, and a chance to take a break from the situation when he needed to. Rain was even able to communicate to her mom how she wished the Celebration weekend had turned out differently, and take small steps toward mending their relationship.

  On New Year’s Eve, Rain watched the ball drop in New York on television and felt alone in the world. The crowd cheered and confetti snowed down on the streets. Outside the house, car horns blew and firecrackers popped. She picked up her cell phone and debated about calling Hayden. What if he wasn’t alone? If he was at a party at that moment, he would never hear it ring, anyway. But he had called her on Christmas Day. He had made first contact—taken a risk. She scrolled down the contact list to his name, and pushed Send.

  He didn’t pick up, so she left a brief message wishing him a Happy New Year. A moment later, he called her back.

  “Rain?”

  “Hayden.”

  “Did you just call?”

  “Yes, I left you a message. Just Happy New Year. That’s all.”

  “Oh. Happy New Year.”

  A moment of silence followed, and she feared he would hang up. “I’m with my mom,” she said.

  “How is she?”

  “I don’t think she has much time left.”

  “Yes, I heard. I’m sorry.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Neil phoned me. He’s a good guy.”

  Silence hung like a veil between them. Rain wondered what they had talked about.

  “Is there anything I can do?” he asked.

  “No. But thanks. William is here. And there’s a hospice nurse on call.”

  “Are you okay?”

  If she were with him, if they were still together, she would have told him everything. “Yes, I’m okay. It’s late. I should let you go.”

  “Thanks for calling.”

  “Wait—Hayden? We don’t have to sell the house.”

  His voice was guarded. “Oh? What’s happened?”

  She realized he must think she didn’t need it because she’d gotten pregnant. “Nothing. Nothing’s happened. I . . . it’s just not a good time, and it’s not fair to make you sell it in a bad market.”

  “Well, if you’re sure. If you don’t need the money.”

  “I don’t know what I need. But it’s just not the time.”

  She gathered her courage. “One more thing.” She took a deep breath. “Could you tell me . . . am I passive-aggressive?”

  After a moment of silence, he stumbled. “Well, not . . .” He cleared his throat. “I . . . I guess you could say that sometimes—”

  “It’s okay,” she interrupted. “You don’t have to say any more. Latoya offered me a job promotion because of it. She thinks it’s my defining characteristic.”

  She heard him put on his professional voice. “Passive-aggressiveness can be a valuable tool—”

  “When working with attorneys?”

  He gave a small chuckle. “Most definitely.”

  “Well, I wish I could say that’s where I learned it, but we both know that’s not true.” She felt her inner calm slipping. “I’ll let you go. I think I hear Mom.”

  “I wish you the best, Rain.”

  “Me, too.”

  After they hung up, she curled up on the couch with a blanket, not even bothering to go to the spare bedroom. The next morning, William woke her to say that Jude appeared to have lapsed into a coma and he’d called hospice. She lasted two more days, and on the third, Rain called Bebe at 5:00 a.m. to say that Jude was gone.

  Bebe called Toni and Mare and let them know that Jude had passed away, and that the cremation service was scheduled in two weeks in San Francisco. She warned Toni to wear flats.

  Bebe stopped by Rain’s unannounced to see how she was doing. She found her at the kitchen table sifting through a box of old photos. Bebe pulled out a chair.

  “William found these in Mom’s closet,” she said. Her face was blotchy and red.

  She pulled a photo out of the box and passed it to Bebe. In the picture, Rain sat on Bebe’s lap with traces of icing on her face and in her hair. Jude stood in the background with her back to them. The long phone cord was wrapped around her waist and she cradled the phone at her neck.

  “Your first birthday.” Bebe smiled. “Toni took this one.” Bebe was surprised that Jude had kept it.

  “Here’s another.” Rain pulled out a photo of a very young Neil holding her in his arms.

  “He looks so much like Dylan in this picture,” Bebe said. “I never realized.”

  Rain passed Bebe a photo of her and Neil smiling for the camera. “Hayden called me.”

  Bebe looked up. “Oh?”

  “On Christmas night. Just to say Merry Christmas.”

  “That was nice.” Bebe tried to read Rain’s thoughts, but Rain kept her eyes on the photograph.

  “I called him on New Year’s from Mom’s.”

  “Well, that’s a start.”

  Rain shrugged. “People get lonely around the holidays. He may be sorry we talked.”

  Bebe said, “I don’t think so.”

  Rain glanced up and gave her a small smile. “You have to say that.”

  Rain sighed, studying the photo. “I wouldn’t blame him if he was sorry. I’ve had such a complicated example of what two people should be like together. I’ve got Mom and William, and you and Neil. Mom telling me that marriage is surrender, doing everything possible to draw the line between her and William. You and Neil . . . you sort of blurred together.”

  “But we’ve each kept our own distinctiveness. We respect each other’s differences and give each other space to be who we are.”

  “In all the years you’ve been together, didn’t you ever want to call it quits?”

  “No. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve had our disagreements,” Bebe assured her, “but nothing came up that we couldn’t work out.”

  “Wasn’t there ever a time when the two of you wanted something so opposite, that you couldn’t agree? Who decided, then?”

  Bebe thought about it. “That’s never happened.”

  “Come on,” Rain said, skeptical. “Someone had to give in at some point.”

  “Okay, I see what you mean. Basically, if it’s something that Neil cares more strongly about, I don’t fight it. And if it’s something that I have a bigger stake in, he lets it go. Of course, that arrangement didn’t come naturally. It developed over time as we learned to trust each other. Some things just aren’t worth fighting over.”

  Bebe didn’t want to alienate Rain, but she couldn’t let the opportunity pass them by, so she pressed on.

  “I think a marriage vow makes it a little more difficult to walk away when you disagree. You may be angry with the person, but if you hang around long enough, a solution might present itself, or you may see that it’s not as big a problem as you first thought, especially if you both look to God for the answers. Of course, this is only my experience, but if Neil hadn’t made a formal commitment to me, I think I might have held back a little. Maybe the intimacy and trust wouldn’t quite have been there. And that would have made it easier to leave when we disagreed.”

  Rain looked thoughtful for a moment. “I don’t know if that would have worked for us.”

  Bebe said, “You don’t know until you try.”

/>   “Hayden brought up the subject once. We joked that if we got married and I changed my name, it would be Rain Coates.” She tossed the photo back into the box and added thoughtfully, “I think he was serious about getting married, but I shut him down. I realize now I did that a lot.”

  She reached into the box, pulled out a picture of Jude in a pantsuit wearing aviator-style glasses and big bangs, and held it up for Bebe to see. “She would have made a horrible grandmother.”

  Bebe grimaced. “I have to agree with you on that.” She studied Rain for a moment. “I saw a devotional pamphlet on Jude’s nightstand the last time I was there.”

  Rain didn’t look up from sifting through the photos. “The hospice nurse left it.” She chuckled, with a shake of her head. “I walked in once to find Mom reading it. You would’ve thought I’d caught her reading someone’s diary.”

  Bebe felt warmed by this knowledge. “Did she ever say anything about it?”

  “No.” Rain stacked some photos. “But she wouldn’t have.”

  “Does Hayden know you’re trying to have a baby?”

  “Yes, but I’ve stopped taking the shots for now.”

  “Are you giving up?”

  “It’s a lot of money I don’t have. And I’m tired of giving myself shots for nothing. I just have to . . . think.”

  Bebe tried not to let her relief show. Rain had so many other issues to figure out that rushing into raising a child alone would only multiply her problems exponentially.

  Rain gathered the photos and shoved them back into the box, keeping two out. “I guess it’s not just about the money. It’s all part of how I was becoming like Mom. Controlling everything. Forcing my own way in situations without considering the consequences. Disregarding other people’s opinions if they differed from mine. It’s not right, and I need some time to take stock before I inflict any more damage.” She pushed the lid onto the box. “It already cost me Hayden.

  “There are just too many questions that I don’t have answers for. Like, whether I have the right to deliberately choose a fatherless existence for a child. It may have been good for Mom, but it wasn’t for me. And if I came up with multiples, they recommend that you do selective reduction and I don’t think I could do that—not after the abortion.”