Because of the Rain

by Deborah Raney

  When the cloyingly sweet scent reached her nostrils, Anna felt sick to her stomach. Strangely terror-stricken, she stopped abruptly in the middle of the mall concourse, struggling to catch her breath and shake off the panic that rose in her throat.

  Kassi had gone several steps before she noticed that Anna lagged behind. In a voice still filled with teasing laughter and feigned impatience, she called, “Come on, Mom. You’re slowing us down. There’s shopping to be done.”

  Anna tried to croak a reply, but she was afraid she was going to throw up.

  “Mom? Mom!” Kassi’s voice rose to almost a scream as she saw Anna.

  She rushed back to Anna’s side and took her by the arm. “Mom, what is it? You’re white as a sheet! What’s the matter?” Kassi’s voice shook.

  Anna couldn’t reply. All she knew was, with no warning she’d been transported back to Orlando. She might as well have been back in that shadowed alley where she’d been attacked and violated. She felt the same smothering terror she’d felt when the rapist had thrown the coarse cloth over her face.

  Trembling, she looked into her daughter’s face, trying to reassure her that she was all right. But she wasn’t sure it was the truth. Maybe she was just having a panic attack. But what had precipitated it?

  She let Kassi lead her to a wooden bench a short distance down a side corridor of the mall. She sat down beside her, a protective arm around her mother’s shoulder.

  Kassi leaned close and studied her. “Mom? What’s wrong? Is it… is it the baby? You’ve got to tell me.”

  There it was again. That sickeningly sweet odor. Anna looked at the open vial of cologne still clutched in Kassi’s fingers. And she knew.

  She’d smelled that same pungent odor the night she was raped. She hadn’t remembered that detail until this moment. He must have been wearing this same cologne. She read the tiny print on the vial: Apres Midi.

  “Oh, Kassi. It’s that smell! It’s…that cologne.” She buried her face in her hands. “I think the man who…raped me was wearing that same scent. I’m sorry, honey… it just… it just took me back to that awful day. I’m sorry,” she whispered, struggling to get it together for Kassi’s sake.

  Kassi quickly gathered up the samples and threw them into a nearby trash receptacle. But she tucked one of the pamphlets bearing the manufacturer’s address into her purse. Then she rinsed her hands under the icy stream of a drinking fountain, shaking them dry and sniffing her fingers to be sure she’d washed away every trace of the scent.

  She watched Anna all the while, and at the sight of Kassi’s worried expression, she willed herself to stop shaking.

  Kassi came back to the bench and sat down beside her. “Are you okay now?” Her voice was high and gentle, as though she were speaking to a child.

  Anna nodded. “I’m sorry. I… I don’t know why I let that bother me so much. It… it just took me by surprise. I hadn’t remembered it till just now. It’s so strange how a simple odor can bring back a memory… a… a horrible memory.” She shook her head and rubbed her temples with her fingertips. “I’m fine now. Really. Please, let’s just go.”

  “Mom, I think we should tell someone about this.”

  “Tell who, Kassi? What would that accomplish?” Her voice sounded angry in her own ears. Her anger wasn’t directed at Kassi. She simply wanted to forget this incident. She didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

  “Mom, if this guy has raped before, someone else might have noticed the cologne. You said you hadn’t remembered it till now, but it could be evidence.”

  Anna hadn’t thought of that. In the months since the attack, Paul had called the Orlando police only once to ask if they had any leads in the case. There’d been nothing to report, and Anna had been almost relieved at that news. She doubted they would ever catch the guy. She’d felt safe again in their friendly neighborhood in Chicago, and here in the small community of New Haven—both far from Orlando and the horror of that night.

  Now, she just wanted to put it all behind her. She didn’t want to think about having to come face-to-face with that monster in a police lineup, or in a Florida courtroom. She didn’t want him found. She didn’t want to put a face on the monster.

  But she appeased Kassi with a vague agreement to tell Paul about the incident when she talked to him next.

  Their shopping trip spoiled by the incident, they drove back to New Haven in a heavy silence.

  When Paul called from Dallas that afternoon, Kassi answered the phone. She didn’t give Anna a chance to tell him––or avoid telling him––about the upsetting incident. She related the whole story to her father in detail, spelling out the name of the cologne and reading the address of the manufacturer over the phone.

  Anna could tell by Kassi’s long pauses and the solemnity in her voice that Paul was taking the incident seriously, probably copying the information down on the notepad by the phone in his hotel room. She was certain he would call Orlando as soon as he hung up from talking to her.

  She wished they would all just forget about it. In the back of her mind, she nursed a fear that she would forever be subject to flashbacks like she’d had in the mall today. How many other little details had she put out of her memory? What other little pieces of that violent night were lurking in her subconscious, ready to jump out and betray her at the least little trigger—a smell, a taste, a timbre of voice? Even a mild French accent from some character on television had sickened her since that fateful night.

  Sunday evening, Anna saw Kassi off at the airport. She came back to the empty apartment feeling empty herself—sad and depressed. She could hear Daniel’s and Tanya’s laughter above her and Justin’s happy squeals. She longed to join them, to be part of a family on this lonesome night. But she knew how precious the Walkers’ weekends were to them, and she didn’t feel right barging in on their family time more than she already had.

  When Paul had called from Dallas that afternoon, she’d spoken briefly with him while Kassi was still there. But they hadn’t been able to speak intimately. Now she tried to reach him on his cell phone, but there was no answer. He’d likely taken his client to dinner and wouldn’t be home until late.

  She tuned the radio to a classical music station and turned the volume up high enough to muffle the voices upstairs. She let the melancholy strains of a violin overtake her, and she sat weeping on the sofa, torturing herself with memories of other days—of her own family, together and happy, before this terrible thing had torn them apart.

  She allowed herself an hour of self-pity, and then she switched off the radio, hung her new clothes neatly in the closet, and crawled into bed.

  That night, for the first time in weeks, she dreamed again of the tall man in the shrouded face chasing her, closing in on her in the dark alley while the skyscrapers of Orlando towered above.

  Chapter 18

  When Paul came to New Haven the first weekend after the episode with the cologne, Anna feigned fatigue. They stayed in the apartment, going over the resumés Walter LeMans had sent and watching brainless sit-coms on television.

  Anna saw the concern in Paul’s eyes Sunday morning when she begged off going to church—what had become the highlight of her week—but she couldn’t reassure him. Despite all her efforts to deny it, the incident in the mall had frightened her, and she found herself withdrawing from even the meager social life she’d established in New Haven.

  The following Monday, she holed up in the apartment again, ostensibly reading through the resumés yet another time. But having only herself to fool, she finally tucked the folders away in a dresser drawer, pulled on a heavy sweater, and started out on a walk through the neighborhood.

  Daniel and Tanya’s neighborhood boasted curving sidewalks and walking paths. The afternoon was beautiful— sunny with a brisk breeze blowing through the wooded acreage. Though it was early November, the trees still clung to their gold and crimson finery, and the crisp rustle of leaves filled the late autumn air. Anna felt more invigorated with
each step she took.

  She rounded a curve and came upon a small playground. A young mother sat on a bench near the sidewalk, rocking a tiny infant back and forth in a stroller.

  “Hi there.” The friendly red-haired young woman waved a freckled hand at Anna as she passed by.

  Anna couldn’t resist stopping to admire the baby. She bent down and peered into the stroller. “He’s adorable. How old is he?”

  “Two weeks old today,” came the proud answer. “Looks like it won’t be long till you’ll be pushing a stroller too. When are you due?” She smiled knowingly at Anna’s round belly.

  Anna almost cringed at the question. “In December,” she answered quickly, hoping the conversation would end there.

  “Oh, just a few more weeks. Is this your first?”

  Anna could sense the woman’s curiosity. Though Anna knew she looked good for forty-five, she also knew that she didn’t look like a typical first-time mother. She felt self-conscious now and tugged at her bulky sweater in an effort to keep it from clinging to her stomach and emphasizing her condition all the more.

  Panic rose within her. She didn’t want to explain her situation to a complete stranger. As her pregnancy advanced and she and Paul became “regulars” at the church in New Haven, Anna had shared her situation with a couple of the women in the congregation and with the pastor, but there had been no reason to tell anyone else. There was no one else in New Haven that she knew well enough to tell.

  Now she managed to stammer, “No. No, it’s not my first. We… We have two daughters…” With an awkward wave, she hurried on down the path.

  Her own voice sounded rude in her ears, and she saw the look of disappointment on the young mother’s face. But she walked on briskly until the playground was out of sight. Anna remembered the isolation she’d felt when her daughters were babies, remembered the courage it took to reach out and make friends. She felt ashamed at the rejection she must have made this new mother feel. She had become so self-absorbed in the past weeks, thinking only of her own feelings, her own troubles.

  Taking a deep breath, not certain what she would say, but determined to apologize for her rudeness, she circled back toward the park.

  The young woman was still there. She had taken the baby out of the stroller and was loosening the ties on his little cap. He squirmed and squinted against the sun’s brightness. His mother turned his face away from the sun and noticed Anna approaching. She smiled hesitantly.

  “Hi,” Anna said, apology already in her voice. “This might sound strange, but I’m sorry if I seemed rude a few minutes ago.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. You weren’t exactly rude. I guess I’m just a little overfriendly sometimes. My husband would call me snoopy,” she said sheepishly and gave a little laugh.

  “Oh no. It wasn’t that. It’s just…” Anna motioned to the empty space on the bench. “May I?”

  “Sure… Of course.” The young girl moved the baby’s diaper bag to the ground, and Anna sat down beside her.

  She sighed heavily and plunged in. “You see, the circumstances of my pregnancy aren’t exactly happy. I wasn’t sure what to say to you.”

  “Oh? I’m sorry…” The girl looked at Anna expectantly.

  “I’m not looking for sympathy. Please don’t think that. I just want you to understand why I seemed so unfriendly. My husband and I have two grown daughters. This baby I’m carrying is the result of–– Well, I was raped.”

  The young woman gasped. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry.”

  Anna held up a hand. “No, please… It’s okay. We are going to place the baby for adoption, and everything is working out. It’s just kind of difficult to have my circumstances be so obvious.” She glanced wryly at her belly. “I didn’t want you to think you’d done anything wrong.”

  The girl smiled, suddenly shy, and extended her hand. “I’m Gina,” she said.

  Anna shook her hand warmly. “Hi, Gina. My name is Anna.” She looked at the baby, now sleeping in his mother’s arms. The sunlight played on glints of strawberry in the downy hair on his head. “Would you mind if I held him? I don’t want to wake him,” she said hesitantly.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Gina laughed, tossing her red curls behind her shoulder. “Nicholas could sleep through a tornado.” Gina transferred the infant awkwardly to Anna, working around the mound of her belly. The baby felt sweetly heavy in her arms, but his weight was a comfort that filled a need deep within her.

  She held the baby while he slept for almost an hour, relishing the warmth and life he represented. She and Gina spent the rest of the afternoon in quiet conversation, bound by the ties that motherhood seemed to bestow on all women.

  Walking home, Anna breathed a prayer of thanks that once again God had shown her His loving care. This time through a flesh-and-blood angel with curly red hair and freckles.

  Paul came for his usual weekend visit, and Anna presented him with the stack of resumés, now six deep. It seemed that every few days, Walter LeMans sent home another folder with Daniel.

  After spending the majority of the weekend poring over the biographies of potential adoptive parents, Paul and Anna quickly eliminated one couple on the basis of their liberal philosophy of disciplining children, and another couple because they already had two children. Though Anna hoped this child would eventually have a brother or sister, there were so many couples who could not have children at all. She’d decided she wanted this baby to be a much-appreciated, much-longed-for blessing, and she reasoned that her baby would be more so to a childless couple.

  They decided to interview two couples and hold the other two resumés in case neither of the first interviews worked out.

  Anna set up the appointments, and Paul took a Friday off the second week in November.

  When they arrived at Walter LeMans’s office for the first interview, the young man and his wife were already seated in front of the attorney’s desk. They jumped to their feet and acknowledged the introductions.

  Their conversation with the couple came easily, and Anna felt comfortable with them immediately. Yet something—something she could not quite put her finger on—troubled her. Marilee Conwell was extremely attractive and equally well-dressed. Her shoulder-length black hair was immaculately styled, each wave perfectly sprayed in place. She was friendly and poised, yet the more they visited, the more Anna perceived that Marilee wasn’t genuine. She seemed overly concerned with money, with the status and material things it could buy.

  Anna liked Marilee’s husband, Steve, but before the interview was over, she’d dismissed the Conwells as a possibility. Perhaps she was being too picky. Such an interview was bound to put even the most unflappable couple on edge. Perhaps she needed to give them another chance. But when the interview had ended, and Anna asked Paul’s opinion, he voiced the same concerns she’d felt.

  Paul sighed. “I’m afraid that young woman has no clue what an upheaval a baby would bring to her perfect house and her perfect wardrobe.”

  Anna knew that their refusal would be a disappointment to the Conwells, but Paul’s concurrence put to rest any qualms she had about rejecting them. Their decision was not a personal affront. The child’s interests had to be foremost in their decision.

  The next interview was scheduled for later that afternoon.

  Paul and Anna walked across the street and ordered coffee in a nearly empty restaurant while they waited for the appointment time. Quietly they reviewed the resumé of the couple they would be meeting, and together they formulated the questions they wanted to ask.

  They waited in the attorney’s office for several minutes, making idle conversation with him until the next couple arrived.

  They look so nervous, Anna thought as the couple awkwardly took chairs across from them, and so terribly young. Yet, Anna knew from their resumé that Matthew and Jeanine Whiteman were both in their thirties. Anna felt almost embarrassed at the amount of personal information about each couple that she and Paul had been privy to. The Whitemans had
been trying for almost ten years to have a baby. Jeanine had been diagnosed with endometriosis, but she’d managed to become pregnant twice. Sadly, each of those pregnancies had ended early on in miscarriage. There was pain and sorrow etched on each of their faces.

  The Whitemans’ resumé, like the others, had been accompanied by photos. But the couple looked nothing like their pictures. Jeanine Whiteman was much prettier than her photo revealed. She had pale blond, naturally curly hair and a lovely smile that lit up her entire face. Anna liked her immediately.

  Matthew was much taller than Anna had supposed, and while his photo made him look confident and gregarious, in person, the man was so shy it was hard to imagine how they would ever get to know him. He spoke haltingly and looked often to his wife as though she was coaching his responses.

  Nevertheless, Anna felt good about him. He wasn’t rude or sullen, just painfully shy. This whole process must be very difficult for him.

  The law offices had closed for the day, and a maintenance crew had assembled noisily in the hallway outside the attorney’s office. After introductions had been made all around, Walter LeMans suggested they go down the hall to a conference room. “I think we’ll all be more comfortable there,” he said, gesturing toward the commotion outside his door.

  They filed down the hallway and seated themselves at a long table in the large room. Paul and Anna sat side by side across the table from the Whitemans, with Walter LeMans at the head of the table.

  LeMans opened a folder, which he had carried from his office, and spread its contents in front of him. Formally repeating the same words of instruction he had used in the earlier meeting, he said, “Well, I’m sure you’ve all read everything there is to read about one another. This is the time to ask any further questions you might have. I’ll try to answer them to the best of my ability. We’ll start with you, Mr. and Mrs. Marquette.” He nodded to Paul.