Bring on the Rain (17 page)

“
I always thought of it.
Then I’d have a drink and get real.” Mitch snorted. “But she was
wrapped up in Brook too, and hell I never know how to cross the
bridges Madeline builds. She said to me recently, she doesn’t think
I hung the moon anymore.”

“
What?”

Mitch looked down at the porch floor.
“I was never a good talker. I was worse when it came to Madeline.
When we were young, it was easier to show her. However, I have
changed and so has she. I do not think that kind of thing exists
twice either. At least, not to people who have lived in the real
world awhile and grown up.”

“
Bullshit, Dad. You want her
as much now as you ever did.”

Mitch looked at him, quiet and uneasy.
Did it really show? Had it shown over the years?

“
Dad. We are men here. I am
not stupid. I can’t say I’ve ever been...that intense with a woman,
friggin' twenty years is a long time to still—” Jason shook his
head. “Hell, you know what I mean, more than I do.”

Mitch looked away, feeling tension
moving over his body again. “I hope you never know it. You can love
someone, and hate them for making you feel it. Hate them when they
got that kind of hold on you. I didn’t know it until it was over. I
felt like someone kept stabbing me in the heart, but I could not
die. The shitty thing was that I had to still get on with life.” He
looked at Jason. “I wouldn’t take anything for you. You know. Out
of everything. I got you. And that’s what kept me
going.”

“
Hell, I know,
Dad.”

Mitch could feel his face taut with
emotion. “Then you should know too a man can get as scared as
anyone else. He can want, sure. But does he want it? Because with
it comes everything that tore him up before.”

Jason stared down at the water in his
hand. He had always known there was a part of his Dad locked up,
guarded, and kept for himself. As a kid, it hurt some, that
unreachable distance. Between that and the way Ronda was. It had
not been easy. Now, he realized what it was, and he thought it must
have been hell for Mitch to keep it hidden.

Jason knew his dad had been with women,
but there always been something fake about it. He had seen Mitch
put on persona that didn’t fit. Those kinds of women never had
illusions. Once at a festival he had witnessed Mitch take up an
offer. He had made the mistake of ragging him about it. Mitch told
him flatly that it was stuff he and the woman both knew meant
absolutely nothing. If Jason were smart, he would never have to
settle for anything that cheap. He had said it was the difference
between the drive through and sitting down to a well-prepared meal.
Jason knew Mitch loved home cooking. Jason knew he was talking
about fleeting sex that left him unsatisfied and unimpressed and
knowing he’d had imitation.

Jason figured it been a year since his
dad had any of those rare encounters. The way Mitch worked and
played, the way his character was, Jason doubted celibacy came
natural to him. Now he knew about the woman of the past, his Dad’s
first, and only love.

Now that he knew her and had talked to
Madeline, it seemed damned harsh they both were free, the truth lay
between them, and they still could not find a way back to where
they belonged.

He said softly, “Dad, these days, guys
need to talk. It’s all right to tell women how you feel. Shit, they
like it. You and Madeline need to talk. If only to clear the air
between you. Neither of you seem to be moving on.”

Mitch apparently thought a long time in
silence, but never did give Jason an answer. He said only, “Use the
shower if you want. I’m going to sit with your grandma
tonight.”

Later Jason watched him pull out in his
black truck and head to Dovie’s house. He sighed and went inside to
get cleaned up. He would never let things get far out of hand in
his own relationships. Nevertheless, he was another generation, and
he had not felt anything near what the two of them seemed to have.
Right now, all he had the time or inclination for was
drive-through.

~*~

“
Mom, come and listen.”
Brook stuck her head in the doorway of Madeline’s
bedroom.

Madeline was in the chair writing
letters. “I can hear fine.”

Brook sighed, “You can’t avoid Coy
forever, and it’s rude.”

Madeline set aside the notebook and
waved for Brook to move, and followed her into the living
room.

Coy had an electric guitar and Brook
took up her bass and sat facing him. Madeline got comfortable in a
chair, while they tuned up.

Coy glanced up at her while he did.
“Brook is good.”

“
She should be, she’s been
playing since she was four.”

“
Mom remembers how painful
it was when I was learning.” Brook teased. “I’d play one cord over
and over, until she was ready to blow the amp up.”

Coy smiled. “Yeah, guess I was lucky,
we had a sound proof basement, and everyone was hip on teaching
kids to play. Dad has a whole recording system.”

“
I was surprised the older
group played rock,” Madeline admitted.

“
Oh, man, they can cut
loose. Uncle Mitch likes southern rock and oldies. His favorite is
country. Nevertheless, he can tear up some metal. He‘s always cool
to jam with younger guys.”

“
I can’t picture that,”
Madeline said dryly. At the Tavern over the years, they had played
popular country tunes. Mitch was the kind of guy who brought tears
out of an audience with a ballad, or got them hot with love
songs.

Coy and Brook exchanged a glance. But
Coy said, “My grandpa played the Dobro and banjo. Aunt Deena is
good on those, but won’t play anymore. She‘s too busy getting in
the society page. Her kids do though. I guess you seen Deege and
Lee? They can play anything. Lee has done session stuff in
Nashville. He doesn’t like the pressure though. ”

“
Ever want to be famous?”
Madeline asked him.

“
Not since I was twelve.”
Coy chuckled. “I like the gigs we do. It’s more personal; you get
feedback from small crowds. I like watching people get into the
music. It’s not about me now that I have grown up. It‘s about our
way of life and culture.”

He added, “I’ve been researching and
collecting the last hundred years of the music written here. When I
got out of the stage of wanting to be a rock star-- I learned how
much of it was a part of my growing up and traditions.”

Madeline asked what he was going to do
after high school.

“
College, maybe. I could
play ball, but I’ll try it Dad’s way awhile.” Coy grinned. “Though
I’m not telling him yet. Thought I’d tell him as a graduation
present.”

Brook looked over her shoulder. “Here
goes, this is a standard you’ll enjoy.”

She nodded to Coy who began to play,
and soon the living room was vibrating with the sounds of a song
Madeline recognized from her high school days. Madeline was
impressed with their talent, amused by their holding each other’s
eyes and smiling. She ended up sitting in the living room the rest
of the evening, listening to them. At one point, she brought in
snacks while they took a break and talked music.

Madeline was only uncomfortable by the
ease in which Brook threw her leg over Coy, or when Coy laid his
hand high on Brook’s thigh without thinking. The rest was
enjoyable, and she was obviously making Brook happy by joining them
talking.

Madeline kept an open mind and ignored
the intimate way they communicated. She was sure now though that
her daughter’s instinct was right. Eventually, Brook was going to
give her innocence to him. Brook’s feelings were fairly open to
read. Madeline was choosing to stay in denial about it. She had
just gotten used to the dating; no way was she going to think about
her daughter having sex!

They left the house around nine to grab
a pizza before Coy had to leave. Brook was staying with a friend,
because they had a school trip the next morning. Madeline cleaned
up and dreaded work the next day. She took a long bath trying to
make those choices she didn’t want to, about the things Dovie had
given her. She scrubbed, muttered, and paused with soap in midair,
trying to make some decision.

It was late. Madeline had been to bed
tossing and turning, when the pounding at the door awoke her. Like
any mother, she shot out of bed in a panic, her flannel boxers
wrinkled, her white T-shirt yanked and crumpled, her eyes half
blind with sleep, as she hurried through the living room and looked
out the window.

Madeline tugged open the door, narrowed
her sleepy eyes at Mitch. “Has something happened?”

“
Dovie died.”

His shirt was creased, his hair mussed,
eyes were red rimmed, and his face muscles rigid.

“
Come in.” She stepped back.
She had lost a sock in bed and pulled the other off while she
closed the door.

“
I don't want to wake
Brook,” he murmured vaguely trying to see in the dark
room.

“
She’s at a friend’s.”
Madeline finger combed her hair, switched on a lamp, and tossed the
sock near a pile of Brook's sneakers, behind the door. “Coffee or
something stronger?” Madeline inquired, heading for the
kitchen.

“
Something cold.”

She switched a light on under the stove
hood, and told him to have a seat on the sofa.

Madeline got two cold sodas and gave
him one, then seated herself a foot apart from him, on the
sofa.

“
I thought something was
wrong with Brook.”

“
Oh. Hell, I didn’t think of
that.”

“
S’all right. I don't wake
up alert.” Madeline drank soda, watching him open his. She was
seated against the arm, Mitch was seated on the edge, knees
splayed, staring at the floor.

“
Was it bad?”

“
No…she just…drifted
off.”

“
Were you the only one
there?”

“
The nurse and
me.”

“
I’m sorry.”

He glanced up drawing in a deep breath
and nodded. Mitch then sat back at length and propped the bottle on
his thigh, studying her mutely.

Maybe it was the hushed time of night,
or the room lit only by a pool of gold in the corner. However, they
took the longest time, gazing at each other in a succession of
quiet moments—faces shadowed, eyes bright, and breathing
shallow.

It took time for her to come fully
awake. Madeline did it by degrees. With it, of course, came
awareness, the same old hum of electricity, the awareness that the
scent of him was masculine, clean, and warm.

She let her eyes trace the hollows and
plains of his face as they came into focus. Little things like the
chunky jet lashes, strong nose, the way his lips were full but
sensual. Three shirt buttons undone at the sinew of his dark neck
so his collarbone showed. The distinctive hair, vivid eyes that
picked up the illumination, the outline of his broad shoulders
enhancing his masculinity. It all made her body aware that it was
close to a man in an intimate setting.

Mitch was lean hipped with the physique
that filled out his jeans and gave him muscular long legs. Her eyes
went to his hands, strong, brown, veined, with scrapes here and
there from work. Those hands had been all over her body once, and
Madeline felt bereft that she couldn’t recall just how they had
felt. Bud’s hands had been soft, his nails shiny, and his flesh too
supple. Mentally shaking her head, a shaky sigh escaped. Madeline
looked away from him, trying to break the spell.

~*~

Mitch had always liked Madeline's high
boned face and velvety skin, always been partial to the russet
hair. Only now, it was sexy and mussed. He had seen her legs, firm,
and supple muscle. He had noticed Madeline wasn’t wearing a bra.
Hell, he had noticed. Womanhood, like motherhood only added to her
attributes. He had watched her walk in the kitchen and sure, she’d
put on pounds. He liked where she’d put them.

He had no problem watching her ass in
motion in those boxer shorts, and even less trouble right now,
eyeing her darkish nipples pushing against her T-shirt. However, he
did attempt to keep his eyes on her face. Her pastel lips and
slender nose and violet eyes, a feathered curl at her ear, the arch
of her brow, and fan of light laugh lines.

He knew when Madeline turned again, she
had noticed him noticing. Mitch rasped, “Jason told me you came to
see Dovie.”

“
Yes.”

“
He said she gave you a
packet.”

“
She did.”

He half smiled, whispering. “What was
in it?”

Madeline half smiled in return. “None
of your business.”

Mitch took a drink “Yeah. I guess not.
I was wondering if y'all made peace.”

“
We did.”

He nodded, glanced across the room a
moment, and then in a deep murmur, he found himself asking, “What
happened, Madeline? What happened to us?”

“
You married
Ronda.”

Mitch let out a measured breath. “Yeah.
However, what happened between you, Dovie, and them? Jude said he
told you a lie, but he won’t elaborate. Said he’d
apologized.”