Bring the Rain

by Lizzy Charles

  “It’s okay,” he says. “Crying is never bad.” I think I hear him sniff while I sob. His reaction is like a tornado ripping down the wall into my soul.

  Dad’s here, caring in a way Mom never would. I love Mom, but she’s distant. It’s not her fault. She’s so proud of my independence in the city so I like to prove her right. If I dried my tears with her sweater, she’d worry too much and maybe back off of her career. I’d never do that to her.

  But here, Dad is available and all the tears I’ve hidden in my bones actualize.

  I cry for when we drove away seven years ago. I cry for him missing all my birthdays, concerts, and bad days.

  I cry for Gina.… What happened to us?

  I cry for last summer’s fling. The feelings I had forced myself to forget pour out. Somehow, despite our just-sex rule, part of me had fallen for him- my Egyptian guy. Then August hit, and after packing a suitcase and a kiss in the hallway, he was gone. He never even gave me an email address to keep in touch.

  I cry for Colt and the warm spot on my back. My heart twists in agony as I picture him with each girl. His nights of crazy love making, hitting up parties, and just having fun. It makes me sick. I heave and Dad holds back my hair while I vomit.

  I don’t know what to do. It’s okay to have a past. He’s entitled to that. But in fooling me into believing he’s a virgin, I don’t know if anything we have is real.

  And it sucks.

  Dad brushes my hair. “Take a deep breath, Bug.”

  And then I cry because I know now I have to leave this place. It burns in my core because there was part of me that held out hope that I’d find a real reason to stay, to be part of this good, steady life that makes sense. Now staying is impossible. Then I imagine leaving, and it’s a circle. Again, I cry for being forced to leave seven years before. I cry and cry until my body puts me out of my misery and I finally sleep.

  I wake to a knock on the door. Dad sleeps, leaning against the wall.

  “Chris?” Grace asks. “Are you awake?”

  Dad coughs, “Yeah, one sec.” He stands up and steps into the hall, closing the door. A moment later it opens.

  “Autumn,” Dad says. I lift my head off the pillow. “Colt’s still not home and his phone went dead. Grace is worried. Any ideas of where he may be?”

  “No,” I say. I hope he never returns.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Please.” Grace steps in, her eyes swollen with tears. “I just… I need to know. I’ve been through this before.”

  And then I remember her husband died drunk. He probably never showed up and eventually they got the phone call, or the police man on their front porch.

  “Okay,” I say. “Just let me think.” My mind itches, and the scene comes to me like a painting, colors bleeding into a tree--his favorite spot. “I don’t know where it is exactly, but he’s at a place on the ranch where there’s this lone mega tree and an open horizon.”

  Grace puts her finger to her nose, tapping it as she thinks. Finally, her eyes widen. “Chris, you took us on a tour when we first moved here. We had a picnic, remember? That’s got to be the biggest tree on your land.”

  “Yes, of course. Marker twenty-three and five thirty-six, take a right up the hill.”

  “Thank you. I’ll give you a call when I find him, all right?”

  Dad follows her downstairs so she can use his truck since it has air conditioning. I drag myself from bed and into the shower. My head bangs and my eyes ache. Crying all night long is worse than a hangover. I’m glad Colt’s gone. It saves me from avoiding him all morning. I already feel bad enough, but then my gut twists and I feel sorry for Grace. Colt could have at least answered his phone before it died. He doesn’t have to be a total jerk to everyone. Grace doesn’t deserve that.

  I finish showering and get dressed, ready to leave. There's no way I'll be in this house when Colt returns. I refuse to be near anyone who makes me feel this way.

  “Going somewhere?” Dad asks as I walk down the stairs. He’s got a suitcase on the couch, packing it with the few clothes we own.

  “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

  “Grace found Colt,” he explains. “We had a talk. We think it's best you two don’t live in the same place right now.” He waits, judging my reaction. I give a shrug. He nods. “Todd offered space for us.”

  “But isn’t this technically your house?”

  Dad a-hums, folding one of my shirts that I’d left in the laundry. “Yes. Colt and Grace offered to leave, but I couldn’t do that to them. Our place will be finished in a few months. If it gets too cramped at Todd’s, we’ll figure something else out.”

  “Sure,” I say as I take a seat on the couch. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  “No one plans these things. This isn’t your fault. It’s Colt’s wish, not yours.”

  I stare at a paper bag he’s filled with his bathroom supplies. Is Colt really that repulsed by me that he can’t see my face? How can he even compare our offenses?

  “All that’s left to do is to grab your stuff from the shower and then we’re ready to go.”

  “You already got everything from my room?”

  “You took a long shower.” He shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. I’m happy to help.”

  ***

  Todd’s house is small and freakishly clean. Todd’s cleared out his office to make a bedroom for me. The neon mattress below me squeaks as I shift position, trying to stay off my back. I go in and out of sleep, trying to escape the pain in my heart. Every time I wake up, the walls filled with Todd’s family photos remind me there’s nothing left for me here.

  Dad brings my dinner to my room. “Colt called. He wants to quit.”

  My eyes bulge. “Are you kidding?”

  He hands me a plate of steak and potatoes, a man’s idea of comfort food. It’s kind of sweet.

  “I’ve refused his resignation until I’ve spoken with you.” He taps my leg. “This is serious. I need to know what happened. I can’t let this kid quit when he helps support his family, unless he has a real reason to go.”

  I pick at my dinner roll. Part of me wants him to quit and be off Dad’s land, but I can’t let that happen. Not to Grace and little Chase doesn’t deserve that. He still lives in a world of Batman and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

  “What happened?” Dad asks.

  “He lied.” I muttered, feeling foolish that it’s come to this.

  “About?”

  I take a deep breath. This conversation is going to suck, but there’s no reason to lie to Dad. There’s nothing left to lose. Our relationship is about as far south as it can go. “He lied about being a virgin.”

  Dad’s jaw sticks out and the veins on his neck throb. “Did you sleep with him?”

  “No. I did not.” I’m so glad this is true.

  “So he just lied to you about being a virgin?” He scratches his head. “There’s got to be more.”

  “Let’s just say last night I found out he has an extensive history.”

  “Ahh,” he nods. “But he told you he’s a virgin and… I’m sorry, I’m really confused.”

  “He told me he wanted to stay a virgin.” My face heats as I watch him absorb the implication of his daughter throwing herself at a guy.

  “Oh,” Dad says, patting my leg. “All right,” he stands up. “Enjoy your dinner.”

  “Dad,” I put the plate down and follow him into the kitchen. “I’m sorry.”

  “No. Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault. It’s mine.”

  “Yours?”

  “I never taught you how a relationship should work.” He shakes his head. “Listen, I’ve got some phone calls to make.” I notice him shift away from me. Great. Now I’m even more of a disappointment, but I don’t have to be. I can do the right thing. I stand up, following him to the doorframe.

  “Hey, Dad,” I add. “Don’t let Colt quit.”

  “No. I won’t. It sounds like he always was a gentl
eman with you, right?”

  “More than that, I promise.”

  “I won’t fire a man for that. And,” he sighs. “I can’t blame a guy for having a past, but you do need to talk with him about the lies. Don’t end things like this. It’s not right.”

  The few steps back to my mattress are a dooming walk of shame. Dad knows way too much about me now. I smash my face into the pillow. He can probably guess I’m not a virgin too. He may say it’s his fault, but his eyes tell the truth-- he's disappointed.

  I move the steaming plate of food off the mattress and crawl back under the sheet. I can’t eat.

  I’ve broken everything.

  “

  Take it slow . It’s all new,” Dad reminds me as he unhitches the latch to the horse trailer. Howdy peers out from behind the rope.

  “Hey, buddy.” I pat his velvet nose, my fingers avoiding a black burn scar on his cheek. I step into the trailer and he pushes into my stomach, nuzzling me. “I’ve missed you, too, Howdy.”

  “Ready?” Dad asks from below.

  “Yup.” I take Howdy from the post, urging him down the ramp. He takes a few steps and in the daylight I see more scars on both front shoulders and one large hairless area on his back flank. “Oh buddy, I’m sorry,” I whisper and his ears perk back.

  “That’s it, nice and slow. We’ve picked the stall near the back exit.”

  I nod, leading Howdy into the pole-barn Dad bought with some of the insurance money. It took a week to order and, with the guys from town, one day to get up. It’s so different from our old barn. There are high ceilings, haylofts, and seven stalls. It’s far from cozy, but Dad smiles every time he steps in there, so I won't complain. It’s the only joy I’ve seen on his face this month.

  Howdy clomps next to me, his new horseshoes weighing down his feet.

  “You’ll get used to them buddy.” I unlatch him and lead him into the stall. He splashes his nose into the water and takes a drink before sniffing each corner and examining the door.

  “I know, big, right?”

  I grab my bucket of brushes. Howdy needs my love, or, maybe, I need his. I start with the curry comb, circling it on his neck.

  “Thank you for saving me, Howdy.”

  Todd and Dad’s voices echo down the concrete walk as they unload the next horse trailer.

  I whisper in Howdy’s ear. “Don’t worry babe. I’m not deserting you for them. Dad and Todd can handle your friends themselves. Are you excited to see Shadow again?”

  His tail swats at some flies as he paws at the ground.

  “Don’t blame Shadow. He’s young and threw me because he was scared. He was trying to survive.”

  The metal clang of the horse trailer shutting startles Howdy. He dances sideways.

  “Shh, it’s okay.” Poor guy. He never cared about loud noises before. His nares flare, and, when someone shouts, he kicks the back wall. “Whoa.” I place my hand on his shoulder, but I’m careful not to get pinned away from the exit. Just because he loves me doesn’t mean he won’t trample me if he’s totally freaked out. I sing Howdy’s favorite song, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. His breathing steadies as I start the verse again. “That’a boy.”

  “I think that’s it,” a husky voice floats through the barn.

  My heart stops.

  I haven’t seen him since that night four days ago. He’s been avoiding me, or maybe I’ve been avoiding him. Hearing his voice feels like someone knocked the wind out of me. Of course Colt would be here. I’m a fool for thinking I wouldn’t bump into him today. No wonder Dad asked if I was sure I wanted to come.

  I duck down in the stall. There's no way I want a confrontation today. Heavy footsteps clomp closer and I hold my breath. Please, please, don’t let him have heard me sing. A stall door opens and closes. “Nice and comfy, better than my place, huh Shadow?” Colt says.

  Another set of boots step near on the concrete, “Colt, would you mind helping Todd and I sink the t-posts out front?”

  “Sure boss. No problem.” He hangs back for a second, shuffling in place.

  “Colt?” Dad calls.

  “Yup, coming.” His cowboy boots pound back down the concrete walkway and out the front door.

  Thank you, Dad. I suck in a deep breath, hoping the oxygen will calm my nervous heart. The pull barn door squeaks as someone pulls it shut.

  I stand up, brushing hay off my knees. Okay. So what? Colt is outside. Big whoop. If I bump into him, I know exactly what to say. I’ve rehearsed it a thousand times. I’ll smile, telling him I’m fine. It’s not a big deal. I’ve already considered everything broken off. I don’t trust liars. And then I’ll shrug and walk away. Easy, right?

  With quick strokes, I brush the other side of Howdy down. Howdy’s mane is tangle free so I check the hoofs, also picked clean. Well, it's good the University cared for him. Carefully, I lower his hoof then put everything back in the tack bucket. His breathing deepens and his horse snore startles me a bit.

  Poor guy. He must be exhausted. I quietly lift the latch and slip out. He needs to sleep. Plus, there’s no excuse for me to hide here any longer.

  I eye the back exit. It’s like it was designed to help me avoid Colt. If Colt’s not already gone, there’s no way he’ll see me if he’s working on the corral out front while I skip out the back and across the meadow. I’ll walk back to Dad’s truck, turn on the air conditioning and take a nap, or hide and spy on him if he’s near. Whatever.

  The door opens easily. Since the fire, I appreciate any easy opening door or window. Life can simply come down to that. I step out of the barn and squint, the sun blazing in my face, scorching so hot I feel like it’s laughing at me. Here’s hoping Dad left the keys in the car.

  “Autumn?”

  I jump. My sight adjusts to the brightness, only to discover Colt leaning against the side of the barn. My heart throttles into overdrive. I want to dash away with it, but my legs won’t budge.

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says. “Your Dad thinks I’m driving to the store.”

  “Well,” I swallow the lump that had taken over my mouth. “You should probably get going then.”

  “The store can wait. We need to talk.”

  “I’m sorry. Now you want to talk? No. It doesn’t work like that. Last time I needed to talk, you stormed off and deserted me at a random party, at a house I didn’t know, with people I don’t know.” I take a step away from him. What was my opening line supposed to be again?

  He reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling me back. “That wasn’t talking. That was fighting.”

  “Well, at least I tried to communicate. You left me.” I pull my hand away. “Alone,” I have to add.

  He drops his head and shakes it before glancing back up at me. My eyes dart away. His hand finds mine.

  “Look at me. I can’t do this if you aren’t looking at me.”

  This is it. He’s going to break up with me… but not if I do it first. I rush to get the words out before he can. “Listen, it’s fine. I’m fine. You’re fine. It’s over, I get it. Okay?” I say.

  “No,” he pulls me close. “No,” he says with a firm determination in his voice. “Let’s talk. I’m sorry for leaving you. It was wrong, and I was shocked.”

  “You were shocked? You’ve got to be kidding me. How do you think I felt? Seven girls?”

  Colt won’t meet my eyes. Coward.

  “We’re done, Colt. It’s not worth it.”

  “Are we that easy to throw away? I’m sorry. Relationships don’t work that way.”

  “Well then how does it work?” We’re up in each other’s face now. “You could have said you weren’t interested in me! Obviously, sex isn’t an issue for you. Why play such a stupid game?”

  “Me? Play a game? Oh no. You’re the one who kept straddling me, trying to push me farther and farther to see how crazy you could make me. You play people like pawns.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know what it mean
s.”

  “No. I don’t. Enlighten me.”

  “You are happy and satisfied being with me… until you get bored. Then it’s all ‘how far can I push Colt?’”

  I shrug, “It was something to do.” My heart tears apart. That’s not really how I feel, is it?

  “And then there’s Chris. He’s trying so hard for you. Do you think it’s faster for him to rebuild his house with your help? Do you think it’s easy for him to know that everything’s on the line? Every word he says or doesn’t say is being evaluated?”

  “Don’t bring my dad into this.” He’s totally crossed the line. “It’s none of your business.”

  “Come on, Autumn.” He steps close. “You haven’t even considered staying, have you?”

  “It’s France, Colt. France! It’s everything compared to this dusty, sweaty place."

  We’re so near now I can feel the heat from his breath on my face. It smells like fresh mint. Something stirs and my head swirls. I’m crazy, craving a kiss. He takes a few deep breaths and I think he may kiss me.

  What are we doing?

  Then he drops my wrist and takes a step away.

  “You owe Chris more than that,” he says, before turning away.

  “I don’t owe anyone anything.”

  He turns around, “Not true. You’re playing a game with everyone. You shift us around, making sure you’re the one in control. And the worst victim?”

  “Don’t you dare tell me it’s my father.”

  “No, it’s yourself, but you already know how you’re playing that out.” He cocks his head and bows his cowboy hat before turning the corner around the barn.

  I crouch down and scream into my palms.

  He’s so wrong. He lied to me. Dad neglected me for seven years. How am I supposed to handle either of them? Just open myself up and trust them?

  No. I slipped up after the fire, but my head’s back on straight now. If I keep living open, I’m going to get hurt. It’s safer to let Dad try so he knows he did his best before I say goodbye. It’d be rude of me to tell him I always knew I planned to go to Paris.

  And Colt? How can I ever trust him? He’s totally backwards. What guy lies about being a virgin? It’s usually the other way around. Just seeing him makes every cell in my body want to burst.