Dancing in the Rain

by Shelley Hrdlitschka

  “My parents are here,” Angie whispers in Brenna’s ear. “They’d like to meet you if you’re okay with that.”

  Brenna nods, and Angie steps aside so that there is now no one between Brenna and the couple. The sound of the crowd and the music fade away, and Brenna looks from one to the other. The woman’s eyes are glistening. The man has his arm around her.

  “Brenna,” Angie says softly, “these are my parents.”

  Brenna doesn’t respond, but continues to look from one to the other. They, too, seem beyond words.

  After a few moments Brenna’s dad, who had moved away to speak to friends, returns to Brenna’s side. He looks at his daughter and then at the couple she is staring at.

  Angie is the first to speak. “Brett, these are my parents, Anthony and Marcia Hazelwood.”

  “Oh. Right.” Brenna’s dad also takes a moment to comprehend. Eventually he extends his hand, first to the woman and then to the man. “We met once in the hospital. Sixteen years ago. Nice to see you again. I’m sorry. I’m just completely surprised.” He turns to Angie. “You didn’t mention you were bringing your parents.”

  “I didn’t know until this morning.”

  “We didn’t know Angie had connected with Brenna,” Angie’s father says. “And then it all came out last night when we met her for dinner. We were kind of…kind of shocked to hear what Angie has been doing, but by this morning we’d gotten used to the idea, and, well…”

  “We wanted to come and cheer Brenna on,” Angie’s mom says, helping her husband out. “And we made a donation online to your team,” she adds.

  “Thank you,” Brenna says, still numb with shock.

  Through the loudspeaker the event MC’s voice booms. “Could I have everyone’s attention for a few minutes? There are a few people we need to thank and recognize. People who made this fantastic event possible.”

  Georgialee and Cole join the group again, and they all turn to face the stage, but Brenna’s mind is elsewhere. She has just met Kia’s parents, her biological grandparents, her flesh and blood. She struggles to wrap her head around that.

  The MC thanks the sponsors and recognizes the teams who have raised the most money in donations. Brenna’s mind eventually returns to the event.

  “Seek the Peak is a grueling race, yet it is a walk in the park compared with the battle that those with breast cancer face. And it has been brought to my attention,” he says, “in an email from a former Grouse Mountain employee—” he checks his notes “—Ryan Kirkwood, that Team Bear has raised money for a very special woman who had to fight that battle and who also once worked on this mountain. Team Bear, can you raise your hands and make some noise so we can see you?”

  Cole and Georgialee already have their hands in the air and are cheering madly. Naysa looks at Brenna, and they raise theirs as well.

  “Ah, there you are!” the MC says. “And not only did Team Bear raise a lot of money in memory of Joanna Yokoyama, but on their team is the youngest participant in today’s event. Naysa Yokoyama, we have a special medal of achievement for you. Will you come up to the stage to receive this recognition, please.”

  Naysa glances at Brenna before Georgialee gives her a shove toward the stage. With her eyes lowered, she makes her way through the crowd and up to the platform. The MC puts the medal around her neck and turns her so she is facing the crowd. “Your mother would be very proud of you today, Naysa,” he says. “And with the help of the money we have raised, we expect that a cure will soon be found for breast cancer, so that no one else has to pay the ultimate price as your mother did. Maybe this will be the first of many fundraisers you’ll participate in. As you know, your own life becomes richer when you work to make a difference.”

  A huge cheer goes up as the MC shakes Naysa’s hand. Smiling, she returns to the place where the rest of the team is waiting. Angie hugs her, and her dad puts his arm around her shoulders while wiping his eyes with his other hand.

  Brenna takes a deep breath and looks at the faces of the people assembled at the large round table at Wo’s Chinese Restaurant. Team Bear is there, as are her father, Angie, Angie’s parents and Justin, who joined them after his Sunday service. The server is dropping off plate after plate of food at the table. Everyone is chatting. Georgialee and Cole are oblivious to anyone else at the table, Angie and Naysa are deep in conversation, and her father and Angie’s parents are listening carefully to something Justin is telling them.

  Once again Brenna is feeling her mother’s absence, but, unlike at her sixteenth-birthday party, she’s also keenly aware that they are assembled here because of her mother and what her life meant to them. She is also aware of Ryan’s absence, especially because it was Ryan who had talked her into participating in this event in the first place. She hands her phone to the server and asks him to take a candid photo of the group that she can send to Ryan later.

  Justin catches Brenna’s eyes across the table. He smiles at her, then stands up and gently taps his water glass with his knife to get the attention of everyone at the table.

  “I have a bad habit of turning almost every occasion into a small ceremony,” he says once everyone is listening, “but I think today’s gathering truly warrants one. Please bear with me for just a few moments.”

  One by one, he looks at each person sitting at the table.

  “The word that comes to me today,” he says, “as I look at each of you, is connection. Each of us is connecting in a different way, but at the root of all these old and new connections today is Joanna, who is the reason for us gathering and connecting like this. She is no longer with us in the physical world, but her spirit is truly alive and well, as we can feel from the energy around this table.”

  “A toast to Joanna,” Cole says, raising his water glass. Everyone joins him, and they all clink glasses with each other.

  “Joanna would be so proud of her daughters,” Justin continues once everyone is quiet again. “Grief often steals all our energy, making it difficult to even function day to day, but her daughters have worked hard to get in shape for this grueling race and have raised a lot of money for breast cancer research. Joanna’s untimely death has not ended the contribution she continues to make in life, but now it comes in the form of her daughters’ actions.”

  Justin sits back down. “Does anyone else want to say anything?”

  After a moment Brenna clears her throat. “I just want to say that one of the things I’ll always remember about my mom is that she fought her cancer without ever complaining, and she even kept smiling to the very end. She also shared her beautiful self with so many people, and it was one of those people, Ryan, who encouraged me to pull this team together. I now know exactly what you meant, Justin, when you said at her service that her spirit is indomitable and that it would live on.” Her voice cracks. “It really has.”

  Her dad places his arm around his daughter while she wipes her eyes.

  Angie’s father stands up next. “Marcia and I feel like we’ve crashed your party today. After all, we didn’t know most of you before this morning, but I really appreciate that you’ve welcomed us to this event and to this lunch. It is great to see firsthand that Brenna’s family has been so loving, and she’s been well taken care of.” He looks directly at Brenna. “We have always wondered how your life was turning out,” he says, “and although we’re terribly sorry that your mother passed away, we can see that you are a remarkable young lady. Joanna, and Brett, of course, have raised you well. This brings us great peace of mind.” He looks at Angie and then Justin. “Thank you for helping us reconnect with this lovely young woman, her family and her friends.”

  Cole stands up next. He’s found another T-shirt, and Brenna notices he’s fastened the pin of Joanna to the front. He holds up his water glass. “And this is a toast to my buddy Ryan. Thanks to him, I was able to race with you today and meet some really cool people.” He smiles at Georgialee. “To Ryan!” he says and guzzles his glass of water.

  Yes, Brenna th
inks to herself. To Ryan. She also gulps down her entire glass of water.

  Brenna’s dad clears his throat. “Thanks, Justin, for reminding us of how we remain connected, even after death.” He turns and looks directly at Cole. “And if Ryan were here,” he says, “I can assure you that there’d be no food left on this table. But there is. So unless anyone else has anything to say…in honor of Ryan, let’s eat.”

  Brenna checks her personal page on the Seek the Peak website. The total amount that Team Bear raised has far exceeded her goal. Her mom’s friends all donated generously, and Kia’s parents, the last to donate, matched what she had already raised.

  All the hikes. All that pain. It was worth it.

  From: brennayoko@gmail.com

  To: ryanfromdownunder@hotmail.com

  Dear Ryan,

  You really were with us in spirit today. We all felt it. Cole was great too, and, of course, I LOVED his T-shirt. He gave it to me, and I think it will now be my go-to pajama top. That way I can sleep with you every night.

  Love you and miss you.

  May 26

  I used to worry it was inappropriate that Ryan and I got together BECAUSE MY MOM DIED, but today Justin made me think about it differently when he talked about connections. Maybe I can see this as Mom’s parting gift to me. It sounds like she really liked Ryan, and, obviously, she loved me. Her death connected us. I think she would have approved.

  Thank you, Mom.

  twenty

  When you come out of the storm you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.

  (HARUKI MURAKAMI, KAFKA ON THE SHORE)

  It’s the first anniversary of Joanna’s death. Her sisters, Laura and Tamara, are in the master bedroom, packing her clothes into boxes. Naysa is with them, pulling the items back out as fast as they go in. She’s making her own pile of Joanna’s things that she intends to keep. Brenna watches, heavyhearted, from the doorway. Her dad has gone for a walk, not able to take part in the packing up.

  Laura sighs. She sits on the edge of the bed and pats the space beside her. “Come here, Naysa,” she says.

  Naysa drops a sweater onto the pile and then sits beside her aunt. Tamara leans against the chest of drawers, her arms crossed.

  “You know you’re not going to wear all those things, Naysa.”

  Naysa shrugs. Brenna hasn’t seen her look so miserable in weeks. She’s having trouble holding it together herself. The weeks leading up to this day have been extra painful.

  Laura looks from Naysa to Brenna and then to Tamara. “I have an idea. Why don’t each of us choose one of Joanna’s scarves to keep forever. Each time we wrap the scarf around our shoulders we can think of it as Joanna wrapping her arms around us. Everything else we’ll pack up and give away. Someone who really needs clothes will be so happy to get them.” She puts an arm around Naysa and squeezes her in. “Your mom would like that.”

  Brenna crosses the room and joins them on the bed, sitting cross-legged. Tamara follows suit. “I think it’s a good plan,” Brenna says. “And I’m going to spray a bit of her perfume on the scarf I choose.”

  Laura nods. “What about you, Tamara?”

  “Yeah. I agree. We have lots of pictures and memories. Keeping her stuff won’t bring her back.”

  “Naysa?” Laura asks gently.

  The tears are streaming down Naysa’s cheeks. She turns and buries her face in her aunt’s chest, but Brenna can see that she’s nodding.

  Tamara gets up and begins to lay all of Joanna’s scarves out along the bed. “Girls, you choose first.”

  Brenna selects a long, intricately woven wool scarf with dangling tassels. “Do you want this one, Nayse?”

  Naysa shakes her head.

  “Okay, then I’ll take it and wear it on the cold days on the mountain.” She wraps it around her neck and glances at herself in the mirror.

  Reluctantly Naysa climbs off the bed too. She reaches down and chooses a brightly colored silk scarf. “This one reminds me of Mom,” she says. “It’s so pretty.”

  Brenna takes it from her and shows her a new way to twist it, and then puts it around Naysa’s neck. Naysa looks at herself in the mirror. She smiles sadly.

  Both aunts choose scarves and wrap them around their necks, despite the heat of the day. Then together they pack the rest of Joanna’s clothes into boxes and load them into the trunk of Laura’s car. Brenna’s dad arrives home just as her aunts are pulling away from the curb. Brenna, Naysa and their dad watch them drive down the street.

  In the kitchen the box of pizza sits on the table. There is a stack of DVDs on the counter, all borrowed from the library.

  “I found as many of your mom’s favorite movies as I could,” her dad says. “And it’s Friday night. How about a movie-and-pizza marathon? I think your mom would have loved that.”

  Brenna takes plates out of the cupboard while Naysa flips through the DVDs. “This one first,” Naysa says, holding up Disney Nature’s Bears.

  “A documentary?” her dad asks.

  “It’s the one Mom would have chosen first,” she says.

  Her dad takes it from her and plugs it into the player in the family room. The three of them sit shoulder to shoulder on the couch, their dad in the middle, the girls wearing their scarves. Plates of pizza sit on their laps.

  As the movie begins Brenna remembers how her cousin Danika had said that it would be the first occasions after her mom’s death that would be the hardest. Although she resented the remarks at the time, she suspects that Danika was right. Today is the last of the firsts. They have made it through Christmas, Mother’s Day, Easter, birthdays. With her newfound circle of support, and her mom’s indomitable spirit to keep them all going, she knows they will get through the second year too.

  Dear Kia,

  On my 16th birthday my mom (who has now passed away) gave me the journal you kept when you were pregnant with me. You wrote me a letter at the end of your journal, and now I feel I want to write you a letter in return, almost seventeen years later, so you can see how the choices you made ended up being good ones—for me, anyway.

  Thank you for giving me the journal. At first it felt really weird to read about myself before I was even born, but I came to know you as a 16-year-old girl and really felt how much you loved me.

  Thank you, too, for selecting Mom and Dad for me. They turned out to be great parents. Even though Mom has died, I realize how much I’ve come to be like her. We both love the outdoors and animals, especially wild animals! Every day I work to be as kind and compassionate as she was.

  You are still my biological mother, though, and even if we never meet again, I am still learning from you. I sense that you and I are a lot alike too. Keeping a journal has helped me vent—just like you did in yours. And from your sister and Justin I’ve learned that you are passionate about working with children. Being in nature and around animals is what makes me happy.

  The pain of losing my mom still feels fresh in many ways. I’m planning to keep her spirit alive by continuing to raise funds for breast cancer research. Maybe that will mean her life didn’t end too soon for nothing. I might even go into medicine someday and continue the work to find a cure. If not that, I’ll work at preserving the planet so that the wild animals we both loved will be able to thrive. In this way you and I are the same. We want to do work that matters to us.

  Anyway, thanks again for giving me the journal. I imagine it will bring back some memories for you. But knowing that it all turned out well for me will, I hope, bring you some happiness.

  Love,

  Brenna

  Brenna puts down her pen and reads what she has written. It will have to do. She picks up Kia’s journal and runs her hand over its rough surface one last time. She folds the letter, tucks it into the journal and puts that into a large envelope. She prints Kia on the front. Angie has promised to keep it until she feels Kia is ready for it.

  From: brennayoko@gmail.com

  To: ryanf
romdownunder@hotmail.com

  I did it! Got my driver’s license! I’m a big girl now! LOL.

  And guess what. The countdown has started. In less than one year I will be winging my way to Borneo to meet Cinta. When I get sick and tired of the dog hikes, I remind myself of why I’m doing them and it helps. You won’t recognize me, I’ll be in such great shape. Which reminds me—you already wouldn’t recognize Naysa. She’s grown about a foot—she’s taller than me—and the yoga has been really good for her. I don’t think I made a hiker out of her, but she’s talking about taking some dance classes to stay in shape. I think that would be good—dancing is such a joyful thing to do. Who couldn’t use a little more joy in their lives? Despite some rough patches, she seems to be doing okay.

  Big news! Justin is getting what he wished for. Kia has announced that she is marrying her British doctor, and Justin will conduct a service when they come home at Christmas. I don’t know if Angie will give her my letter or even tell her about how we connected. Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. Justin was right—I felt better just writing a letter to her.

  Love you and miss you.

  Brenna

  PS. The bears miss you too.

  PPS. Can’t wait to meet the koala bears.

  acknowledgments

  Heartfelt appreciation to my first readers and cheerleaders: Kim Denman, Diane Tullson, Beryl Young and Linda Irvine. Thanks also to Shannon Kirkwood for her Aussie-isms, friendship and for wielding the shovel while I held the bag. To the wildlife team of Grouse Mountain—thank you for including me in the fold. Your knowledge and passion for the animals in your care are inspiring.

  Orca Book Publishers is a collection of true professionals and the nicest, most approachable people in the business. I know how blessed I am to have another book published by them.

  Finally, a huge thank-you to all those readers of Dancing Naked who begged for more. This is for you.