The Promise of Rain

by Rula Sinara

  “Ready for an adventure?” he said.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be, Mac.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  JACK TOOK THE RESULTS of their latest radioimmunoassay from his new lab tech and flipped through them blindly. Focus. His ability to concentrate, since he’d gotten back from Kenya, had been about as reliable as his last lab technician. The one who’d quit—after ruining a batch of samples—while Jack was in Kenya. How was this place running any more efficiently than Anna’s? He raked his hair back, then plopped the papers onto his desk and scooted his chair back. The clock in the corner of the lab read 3:02 p.m. There was no way he was getting anything done today. He felt like a guy in a room with nothing but cactus plants to sit on.

  His tech looked at him expectantly.

  “Thanks, I’ll go through these this afternoon,” Jack said. “Run the next sample. I’ll be in the EM room.” No one was using the electron microscope right now. It would be quiet.

  “Okay.” The tech pulled a rack of tubes out of the freezer and set them down next to the centrifuge to thaw.

  “And don’t forget to go get your badge read today,” Jack added, relieved he wasn’t too distracted to remember important obligations. Anyone working in a lab that used radioactive isotopes had to wear a badge that kept track of exposure. Jack took safety seriously, unlike some. How anyone could eat lunch in a no-food-zone lab that housed tissue samples, viral DNA and radioactive material beat the crap out of him. That’s what protocol was for. To keep people from letting their guard down once they became too comfortable with their surroundings.

  Like Anna in Africa.

  The lab’s phone rang just as Jack opened the door to leave. His tech started removing one glove to answer it, a small act that Jack found extremely reassuring. His ex-tech had never fully grasped the concept that sterile gloves were not sterile once used, and touching the phone with one would contaminate it. Good help was really hard to find, but things were looking promising.

  “It’s okay, I got it,” Jack said, letting the lab door shut. He picked up, regretting it when he heard his sister’s greeting. So much for avoidance.

  “Zoe? Why are you calling the lab?”

  “You haven’t answered your cell or my messages all day.”

  Jack heard kids yakking in the background. Probably rummaging for after-school snacks, he figured, glancing again at his watch. She was right about his phone, only he hadn’t answered it for a very good reason.

  “I’m making dinner tonight,” she said. That reason.

  “You don’t have to, seriously. Pick a different night. Any other night this week and I’ll bring dessert,” he said, hoping she’d listen to reason.

  “I already started it. Dessert, too. If I waited for you to answer my calls, everyone would end up eating frozen food.”

  “Everyone? Ben’s not back, is he?” Her husband, Ben, was deployed overseas and had been gone a month since his last leave ended. His deployments were usually much longer than that.

  “No. I wish. But Mom and Dad are coming over. Mom said she’d skip her book club.”

  Oh, man. Dinner with the entire family? Tonight? He winced. Too much, too fast. And Mom never skipped book club. Jack sighed and tapped the receiver against his forehead.

  “Stop that,” Zoe said. “You have a hard head. It’s louder than my kids. Look, Jack. You’re at work. It’s not like you’ll have time to cook. And we’ve hardly seen you since you returned.”

  Jack didn’t answer for a good six seconds. He watched the clock tick away. There was no getting out of this. Zoe didn’t say a word, but he could hear Maddie arguing with Chad in the background over his double-dipping of a carrot stick. Didn’t even have Jack’s genes and she was anti double-dipping. Smart kid. She’d make a great babysitter for Pippa.

  “Okay. I give up. See you around seven-thirty.” He was going to regret this. He was doomed from hello.

  “Yes! And, Jack, ignore my last voice message. I was a bit annoyed, but you’re totally forgiven now and I love you.”

  “Right.” Jack hung up and left the lab. The EM room was at the end of the hall, just past five labs that comprised Dr. Miller’s domain, when he wasn’t in the admin wing. They’d tactfully avoided each other since Jack’s return. Jack had left his report regarding Busara on Miller’s desk, but hadn’t heard from him.

  Jack wasn’t sure if he was angry or grateful to the guy. Either way, he didn’t feel like dealing with an awkward conversation. There wasn’t a way to discuss what had happened without getting personal, and Jack didn’t need his personal business colonizing the department like strep in a petri dish.

  “Jack.”

  Great. So much for that. He might as well be wearing a shirt that said Bug Me today. Jack stopped, tucked his hands into his lab coat pockets and turned as casually as possible.

  Miller sat behind his desk in a small office next door to his main lab. “Have a second?” he asked.

  Not really. Jack walked into the office, willing himself not to lose it. He checked his watch, taking an extra long second to do so. “I’m actually running a tight schedule today,” he said, not bothering to sit in the chair in front of Dr. Miller’s desk.

  “Yes, yes. However, I wanted to touch base with you about Dr. Bekker and Busara. I read your notes.”

  “And that’s all I have to say about it. Don’t involve me in this anymore.”

  “But you are involved. I sent you with a purpose,” Miller said, impatience seeping through the subtext of his words. Oh, he’d sent him with a purpose, all right.

  A burning heat rose up Jack’s chest and through his face. He shut the office door, and leaned forward, bracing his hands on Miller’s desk. His colleague relaxed back in his chair, trying to look casual, but effectively putting distance between Jack and himself. Probably wise.

  “And which purpose was that?” Jack asked.

  “The report, of course. The funds for our project. You can’t climb the ranks without expecting to deal with logistics.”

  “The report? Logistics? You knew, didn’t you? You sent me to Kenya knowing I had a daughter there. How long, Bob? How long did you know and not tell me? A year? Two? The entire time?”

  “Now, wait a minute. I didn’t know she was yours. Not for sure. I knew Dr. Bekker had a child. She was up front with me about that. Had to be, given the accommodations, visas, divulging who stayed at the camp.... It wasn’t my business to ask who the father was.”

  “You didn’t want to. There’s a difference.”

  “You know, an employer can get in trouble for asking the wrong questions.”

  “Give me a break. This department isn’t that big. She was more than an average employee. She spoke about you like a father figure.”

  Miller sighed and pushed his chair away from the desk.

  “Look. It wasn’t any secret around campus that you two were old friends. Faculty and staff talk. We’re not a stupid bunch here,” Miller said, waving a hand at their surroundings. “Out of the blue, you two stopped talking, or even asking about each other. The timing was suspicious. I didn’t really know you personally back then, but I knew Anna. I tried talking her into coming back, even to visit, but with no luck. I figured if there really was anything to be sorted out between you, it would be. Technically, it wasn’t any of my business. But then you and I started this project together, and...and...a couple of months ago, my daughter had a baby. My first grandchild. The father asked her to marry him in the hospital room.”

  “Congratulations. But that has nothing to do with me discovering I have a daughter,” Jack said. The weasel’s justifications weren’t going to cut it.

  “But it does. I realized in that moment, seeing the look in my son-in-law’s eyes, that every parent has a right at a chance. If they screw it up, so be it. But they have a right to try
. You had a right to know. You were going to Kenya for that lecture, and there was no harm in sending you to Busara. If Anna’s child turned out to be yours, then I did the right thing. If not, no harm done.”

  “No harm done? Five years. Five. Years. I don’t see how acting now absolves you of keeping my daughter a secret all that time. Of trying to use me against Anna. Did it just happen to make financial sense now? What if my child had gotten sick there? What if she’d gotten malaria? Or bitten...or worse? Then what? Would you have kept your suspicions to yourself forever, so that you wouldn’t be held liable for having allowed a child to live at one of the research facilities? You could have told me Anna had a child from the beginning.”

  “I didn’t know she was—”

  “You knew enough.” Jack slammed his hands on the table, then turned and left. He didn’t stop at the EM lab, or the elevator. He needed air. Space. He descended five flights of stairs, exited the building and didn’t stop until he’d reached his car. He needed to drive, to think, to put things in perspective. He reached for his keys and realized he was still wearing his lab coat.

  Seriously? He’d scheduled a day off tomorrow and needed to leave a to-do list for his tech. And he never left campus with his lab coat on. If this day was foreshadowing how the evening would go, he was in trouble. Chill. You’re stressed and probably blew any chance at tenure through a black hole, but you’re not Miller’s puppet. You can make this right.

  Jack walked back at a deliberate, controlled pace. A humid breeze cleansed his face. He took a deep breath of fall air and gave a silent, obligatory wave to a group of sophomore vet students who’d called out to him. The same group of young women who’d made a habit of sitting at whatever table was next to his in the cafeteria, whenever he went there. The past couple of weeks he’d started packing lunch and eating outside for that reason. Anna wasn’t his, but having anyone else show the slightest interest made him feel like a traitor. As if he wasn’t one already.

  He cut across the lawn, where several students sat on blankets with their noses in textbooks. The bright sun reminded him of Kenya, but the lush, verdant lawn was so different from the desiccated soil and grasslands surrounding Busara. The tall, erect evergreens gracing the university grounds...so different from the sprawling, horizontal branches of the acacia trees. He pictured Anna perched on that platform of hers, under her precious shade. He should have taken a picture of her sitting there. His memory would have to do. Once the research project he and Miller had presented in their last abstract started, he wouldn’t have time to go back and visit.

  He took care of lab business and was back at his car within fifteen minutes. He looked at the clock on the dash. He still had a couple hours to kill, if they didn’t kill him first.

  He took a left off campus and headed toward the same toy store he and his sister had practically lived in after his adoption. He needed to get Pippa something. Zoe had loved dolls back then, the kind that ate, peed and pooped like real babies. Only disease-proof.

  Pippa would probably think it was cool, but a fake baby as a gift? Something told him Anna wouldn’t find that funny at all.

  * * *

  ANNA FELT LIKE a foreigner. Like a crippled gazelle stuck in a stampede of kin escaping a predator. She clutched Pippa’s hand tighter and lugged their carry-ons to the edge of the crowd exiting the international arrival area.

  What am I doing here?

  Proving you’re not selfish. That Pippa comes first. And making sure Mom will be okay.

  The words had been running through her head ever since they’d landed. Exhaustion? Nerves? It didn’t matter. She’d made a choice and there was no turning back. No hiding. At least, not with the mega-high-tech airport security she’d just survived.

  She looked at Pippa for reassurance. Her daughter had slept on the last leg of the flight, limp and drained from all the excitement. Clearly, the nap had done its job. She bounced up and down now, her sleep-ravaged curls following suit. You’re doing this for her. One week and you’ll be back home.

  “Mama, I need to go pee.”

  “Now?” Anna asked rhetorically. Of course she meant now—the worst time possible. And why did kids jump when they had to pee? Didn’t that make it worse? Anna had tried taking her before landing, but the line on the plane had been too long. She scanned the area and spotted a women’s restroom.

  “Okay, let’s hurry.”

  * * *

  JACK SWORE UNDER HIS BREATH. He should have known she’d change her mind at the last minute. He’d put the power in her hands, so to speak, giving her those tickets. What more could he do to get through to her? To get her guard down long enough for one visit?

  He’d move the universe to keep his daughter in the States, but he knew now that wasn’t going to happen by butting heads with Anna. He needed—wanted—to see both of them, but he also wanted Anna to see Pippa in his home, around her cousins. Alienating herself was one thing. Alienating her daughter was entirely different. If she could just see how comfortable Pippa would be, then maybe Anna would come to the right conclusion on her own. Work with him to do what was best for their daughter.

  But that wasn’t going to happen.

  She hadn’t come.

  Jack dodged the crowds around the luggage carousels and went to check the flight arrivals one last time. The plane had arrived, and yes, he was at the right baggage claim.

  Anna and Pippa simply weren’t here.

  The anticipation that had buzzed in his chest now twisted in his throat. Not coming proved that she didn’t care about him, about his feelings as a father...and that she didn’t trust him. He turned away from the reunited families laughing and embracing and catching up while waiting for the last of the luggage to make its way around the belt. Jack headed for the glass doors, the skin on his face numb to the cool, early-evening air.

  “Jack!”

  “Anna?” He turned. Relief washed over him at the sight of them. They were here!

  She’d scooped Pippa up by the waist like a rag doll and was running toward him, almost stumbling over her wheeled carry-on when she tried to avoid a man and his load. “Jack! Wait!”

  He ran toward them and grabbed Pippa, pulling her into a squeeze.

  “Hey, little monkey,” he said, burying his face in her hair to mask the second he needed to gather himself. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you, Daddy,” Pippa said, placing her palms against his cheeks and patting them. “I know where cotton comes from.”

  “You do?” Jack looked at Anna. She stood there, biting her lip, frazzled and oh, so beautiful. She’d come. They were here. The reality of it was just sinking in.

  “Hey, you,” he said. “Thank you for coming.”

  He hesitated, then leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. Friends did that all the time. It didn’t mean anything and certainly wasn’t enough to spook her. He hoped. Pulling Anna into his arms the way his instincts screamed for him to do certainly would have.

  She blushed and a tiny, tired smile relaxed her face. “Hey,” she said, then cocked her head toward Pippa. “Clouds.”

  “Clouds? Oh, clouds.” Jack laughed and felt the tension leave his body.

  “Cotton comes from up dehr,” Pippa said, pointing up.

  “Does it, now?” He grinned. “Let’s get your luggage and head out. There are very special people waiting to meet you.”

  “People?” Anna said. “Jack, it’s after midnight for us. We’re exhausted. I’m tired and...gross.” She motioned toward her body.

  There was nothing gross about her. As far as Jack was concerned, she’d look wonderful even if she’d taken a mud bath with an elephant.

  “Anna, I tried getting them to wait, but my sister, her kids and my parents are dying to meet Pippa and see you, too. We’ll stop by my place first and you can freshen up. I’ll
make a pot of coffee, and we’ll leave her house early. Promise. Besides, pushing through it is the best way to get over jet lag. Trust me.”

  “I thought I asked you to book a hotel room,” she said, pointing to a green suitcase with brown straps coming around the carousel.

  “You did,” he said over his shoulder as he grabbed it, followed by another she pointed to.

  “That’s all of them,” she said. They headed out. “Can we just stop at the hotel first?”

  “I didn’t book one. Anna, there’s plenty of room at my place. It’s a two-bedroom apartment, and I’ve already fixed one room up for Pippa. You can have the other, or stay with her if you prefer, and I’ll take the couch. There’s no point in paying for a hotel. I want to spend every last minute with her, and that includes waffle breakfasts,” he said, directing the last words at Pippa.

  “What’s a waffle?” she asked.

  “What’s a waffle? That’s criminal,” he said, looking pointedly at Anna. She shrugged. He hoisted Pippa into the spare car seat his sister had loaned him and helped him secure in his car earlier in the week. “Well, it’s as sweet and delicious as you are, and you’ll get to try one tomorrow morning.”

  He opened the front passenger door for Anna.

  “Okay. First stop, home.”

  * * *

  FIRST STOP, HOME?

  Anna slipped the seat belt over her shoulder and snapped it in. Home? Pennsylvania would never be home again. Home was somewhere a person felt safe and loved. This place held nothing but disappointment in others and in herself. She was here to do what was right—to let Pippa have a relationship with her father and relatives. That was it. Home? They’d be back home in a week.

  She twisted around to check on Pippa, who swung her legs as they dangled from the car seat and stared out the window with her mouth gaping. He’d brought a car seat. Anna closed her eyes briefly. Oh, no. He probably thought she was a terrible mother for taking Pippa around without one in Kenya. He’d hold it against her. Anna rubbed her face and smoothed her hair back. This...this...paranoia. She had to stop. It had to be fatigue. She’d barely been able to sleep during the flight.