Rainfall (11 page)

I contemplate this for a moment and I vow to do more in the future to help. I imagine how many Adams have passed through this place and it makes me feel incredibly sad.

“Do you have any idea what happened to Adam before he arrived at the orphanage?”  I ask helplessly, clutching at straws. Again, she sighs.

“No. Adam didn't speak a word for almost two years after he arrived, save for telling us his first name and his age the day we found him. When he finally did start talking again he refused to utter a word about his life before he arrived here. No amount of coaxing or therapy could get any information out of him and eventually we had to just let him be. Things were peaceful for a time and then the trouble started.” She stares out of the window above her little wooden desk and I can only imagine what she must be recalling. “I was only a junior then, I did not have any power over decision-making and those who were in charge chose to see what they wanted to see.  They thought the boy was possessed. They didn’t see what I could – that something terrible had happened and he was carrying it around with him. The truth be told, I wasn’t really surprised when I met Kyle.” She smiles absentmindedly.

“You met Kyle?” I ask, almost unable to believe what I am hearing.

“Everybody met Kyle,” she explains, chuckling. “They just refused to believe it or acknowledge him, deciding rather that Adam was under the devil’s control during those times.”

“Kyle must have loved that!” I let out a low whistle and she laughs.

“You obviously know Kyle quite well,” she smiles and I flush slightly. 

I do not want to discuss Kyle with her, a nun, and I cast around for something else to say.

“Do you know a
Lizzy?” I ask suddenly, watching her closely as a confused frown crosses her forehead. 

“You mean other than
myself, I assume?” 

“Yes,” I reply. “Because Simon, one of the other
alters
is constantly asking for her. He claims she grew up with him at the orphanage. He says she was his best friend.”

A small frown has creased Mary-Elizabeth’s otherwise smooth forehead. 

“Not that I can recall,” she murmurs, and I can see that she is trying to remember. “As far as I can remember Adam was always very much a loner, Paige. He didn’t really have any friends.” She sounds so saddened as she says this that I feel I want to comfort her.

“That’s okay,” I smile, “it was a long shot. She may have not existed at
all, maybe she was a figment of his imagination. Doctor Sheldon would call her a transitional object!” I chuckle awkwardly and she pats my knee consolingly.

“You're an amazing young woman, Paige.” 

“I get that a lot,” I remark, “but I don’t quite think I deserve it. I'm just doing what I can for the man that I love... Wouldn’t anybody do the same in my position?”

“Maybe,” she answers, but I can tell by her tone that she is doubtful. “Either way, Adam is lucky to have you in his life.”

Later, as I drive home I ponder her words and I shake my head, smiling to myself.  Despite everything, I still think that I am the lucky one to have Adam in my life; not the other way around. But I would not be being honest with myself if I tried to deny that, emotionally at least, I am exhausted. This mini-getaway to visit my family is probably the best thing for me at the moment.

Chapter 15

On Friday evening, I land at LAX, pleasantly surprised to see that my mother has accompanied Frank to pick me up. It's not really her scene, doing something nice for others.  Frank relieves me of my luggage and my mom proceeds to castigate him loudly, insisting that this is what the porters are for and that he is trying to stifle job creation in a flailing economy.  At my incredulously raised eyebrows Frank chuckles, “She discovered the Newsroom; I can’t tear her away from the telly; Jeff Daniels is her new hero.” I choke back a screech of laughter.

“At least she finally got over Bobby Ewing,” I reply solemnly.

“Amen to that,” Frank mock agrees.

I glance over my shoulder to check that mom is still not paying us any attention.

“You found a lover yet?” I shove him gently with my shoulder and he takes a few crab-like steps sideways.

“Still not, Paigey. Alas, my heart belongs to Georgia.”

“You’re one in a million, Frank.”

“So is she.” His eyes mist over as he watches my mother fondly and I fight the urge to throw up.

“Come on, Mum!” I holler and she discreetly puts a copy of
Fifty Shades Freed
back on a shelf, muttering under her breath, “Such filth.” I decide against pointing out the story I heard from Lola about how she had left her copy of the first book at mom’s and that when she went to fetch it, mom had taken it with her to her weekly mani and pedi session. Janet, my mother’s char had told Lola that mom had not put the book down the whole morning. Lola had called me in hysterics, most concerned that her father might be expected to perform some kinky new tricks in the bedroom. Until then I was not aware that Frank had a bad back. I had laughed so much the tears had poured down my face and I'm pretty sure Lola had needed more than a few vodkas to get the mental image out of her head. 

I link arms with my mother as we make our way to the car and I tell her a bit about New York and what I have been up to. I can sense that they are both holding themselves back, obviously waiting for the right moment to speak their minds. This moment presents itself during dinner that night. My mother asks me two questions one right after the other.  The first is would I please pass the peas; the second is when did I plan on leaving the psychopath?

I tried to explain it to them. I gave them as much information as I could about Adam's condition and the chances of successfully integrating his identities. 

“I have to try,” I explain. “I love him.” I can see my mother, particularly, trying desperately to control
herself. I cannot blame them. They are only concerned about me and want what is best for me. I turn to my mom determined to make her understand when I notice the tears shining in her eyes. I am shocked and stunned into silence, whatever I had been about to say is forgotten in an instant. I have never seen my mother cry. Not that I can recall. I mean I have seen her 'fake' cry plenty whenever she wants to get her own way, but this is different. This is real.

“Paige I just don’t want to see you hurt again,” she manages in a small voice, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin. “You have already been through so much.” 

I realise for the first time that what happened after Kevin died really didn’t just affect me. My family went through all the trauma and the pain with me. I was just too self-absorbed at the time to appreciate it. I want them to understand that I have to do this, but I realise that they will never agree with me. The risks are just too great for them. The chance that I will be hurt again is high and they cannot bear the thought. So instead, I put my arm around my mother’s shoulders and I rest my head against hers. 

“I love you, Mom,” I say, rubbing her back.

“I love you too, Paige,” she sniffs. “Now seriously, pass me the peas.”

On Saturday morning I wake up early and head down to the beach. I have arranged to meet Jacky, an old friend from College and her fiancé down at the point. I stand at the shoreline letting the sand wash away from under my feet.

“Paige, hey!” Jacky jogs up, looking radiant. 

“Hi
Jax, Hey Tom!” I call back. Tom had been close to Kevin. The four of us had spent many a Friday night double-dating. I had not seen much of them after Kevin died. I had cut myself off from most of my friends preferring to be alone with my grief.

“It’s so good to see you!” Jacky gushes giving me a warm hug.

“You too!” I reply, meaning it. “Both of you!” I hug Tom as well, albeit a bit more awkwardly.

“So...”  He still has the same brisk, no-nonsense attitude. “Are you really going to do this?”  I glance down at the two surfboards under his arm.

“Absolutely!” I grin, and Jacky giggles, plonking herself down on the sand, an eager audience.

I walk down to the shore, the borrowed surfboard under my arm. I feel the adrenalin coursing through my body and I take a deep breath.

“Now remember what I said!” Tom yells over the noise of the breaking waves which suddenly look a whole lot bigger than they did from higher up on the beach. “Just duck-dive underneath them and once we’re out there I'll tell you what to do. Getting out is the hardest part. Just keep paddling,” he reminds me and I nod determinedly. Puffing out a deep breath of air I count to three in my head and then set off, jogging into the ocean.  The water is icy and takes my breath away as it hits my bare stomach. For a second I feel a stab of envy at Tom’s full wetsuit and then I am paddling as hard as I can, lying on the hard surfboard and feeling incredibly uncomfortable. I try and balance my weight, spreading my legs slightly and not daring to think about the view that poor Jacky has from her vantage point back on the beach.

I squint forward, disappoi
nted that Tom is so far ahead. Why am I not doing this right? I dig my arms deeper into the water, the board biting into my underarms. A wave crashes into me and pushes the board to the side, so that I am lying parallel to the incoming waves instead of facing them. I give a small scream of frustration and turn the nose of my board back out to sea.

“Get the nose down!” Tom shouts back at me, his hair wet and slicked down on his forehead. I nod, gritting my teeth and forcing myself to dig deeper into the water. I start to make headway, the board cutting through the surf and I feel
more steady already. I see another wave approaching and, just before it is upon me, I rise up onto my knees and push the nose of the board down into the water, just as Tom instructed. My duck-dive is far from perfect, but I do manage to half-submerge the front of my board and, although the wave breaks over me, it does not throw me off-balance or alter the course of my board. 

“Woo-
hoo!” I screech, punching the air, feeling the euphoria that comes from achieving something challenging. Right, I think to myself, time to get this show on the road. 

The rest of my paddle out is not quite as smooth as I would have liked and I am washed off the surfboard twice, but eventually I am bobbing far out past the backline with Tom and a few other surfers. I am feeling very self-conscious but I force myself to focus as Tom gives me his advice.

“Okay,” Tom looks out to sea and then back at the shore, shielding his eyes and then smiling spontaneously when he spots Jax sitting on the beach. “Now, Paige, what you need to do is wait for the right wave.” 

I nod, trying to look as though I know what the right wave will look like.

“I’ll tell you when,” he adds and I stop trying.

“Now, when I say go, I want you to paddle as fast as you can, heading straight for the beach, okay?”

“Okay.” I clench my jaw to stop my teeth from chattering. Now that I am not paddling I am feeling the effects of the cold water far more. “Then what?”

“Then, once the wave grabs you, you stand up. That’s it. But get onto your knees first, it makes it easier.” 

“That’s it?” I ask, wondering why that sounds so simple. 

“That’s it,” he answers, turning to look back at the horizon. “Paige!” he yells immediately and I whip my head around to see a monstrous wave coming straight towards me. I swallow back the sudden terror I am feeling.
“Now!” Tom yells, pushing the back of my board in the direction of the shore. 

A moment later I am pumping my arms as fast as I can, my little board skimming through the water much faster than it ever did on the way out here. I keep paddling, not quite sure when I should stop and then I feel it. The wave has reached me; I don’t need to paddle at all, my board is cresting the wave and heading back to shore. I get unsteadily to my knees keeping the nose aimed straight for the beach. I am not interested in attempting any tricks at this stage.  I am pleasantly surprised that once I am on my knees it is
not as difficult as I thought. Moving a bit faster, I get up onto my feet, assuming what I figure is the 'surf' position.

A second later I whoop in excitement; my arms out beside me and my hair flying behind me I can feel the salty air on my face. It feels like flying. What a rush! I shriek in excitement my adrenalin still pumping. I am so glad that I did this! Eventually my board coasts into the shallows and just before it beaches itself, I hop off and take a few running steps up the beach, laughing wildly. I skip back and pull the board from the shoreline before flopping down next to
Jax on the beach.

“Done already?” she asks, her eyebrows
raised sceptically. Jax knows me too well. 

“Not a chance!” I grin. “I’m just taking a breather.”

Tom comes running up a few minutes later his own board tucked under his arm.

“Well done!” he laughs. “That was pretty good, for a girl!” I grin and
Jax shrieks with indignation.

“What do you mean, for a girl?” She smacks Tom on the arm and he plants a kiss full on her mouth. 

“I’ll see you in a bit!” I wave, leaving them to it and running back into the sea, my feet spraying the salty water up behind me.

The morning goes by in a blur and by the time I come out of the water for the last time, my body sore and exhilarated, it is almost noon. 

“Let’s grab some lunch,” Jacky suggests, “I’m starving.”

“
You’re
starving?” Tom teases. “You haven’t done a thing all day!” He grabs her and throws her over his shoulder while she tries to hold down her skirt, shrieking at him to put her down.  I smile to myself, pulling my dry clothes over my sopping bikini. It’s so hot it will be dry in no time. I slip my feet back into my flip-flops and throw my towel over my shoulders. 

“I’ll meet you girls at Zack’s,” Tom calls, as he jogs off towards the parking-lot, both surfboards tucked under one arm.

“We’ll wait for you babe!” Jax calls after him and we settle into a companionable silence as we wait for him to return.

We take a seat at one of the local burger bars further down the beach; Tom stopping a few times on the way to greet people that he obviously knows through his surfing.

“That was awesome; thanks so much you guys,” I say, taking a bite of my hamburger.

“I’m so glad you called,”
Jax replies, eyeing me over the top of her soda. I can see that she is itching to get something off her chest and, after only a moment’s hesitation, she comes out with it, “The truth is, Paige, well, after Kevin, we weren’t sure that you wanted to see us. I wanted to call, to come and visit, but you didn’t seem too keen on the idea and I didn’t want to push you.”

I pop a chip in my mouth and nod thoughtfully.

“I’m sorry. You’re right; I did withdraw. I couldn’t deal with it,” I shrug, “I crawled into a hole. I just missed him so much and I didn’t know what to do with myself.” 

“And now?”
Jax probes gently and I glance across at Tom before lowering my eyes.

“I’ve met someone,” I admit to her implied question.

“I knew it!” she exclaims triumphantly and I raise my eyebrows at her obvious jubilation.

“Paige,” she begins, wiping her hands on a napkin. “It's been two-and-a-half years.  Kevin is gone. He would want you to be happy.” She looks across at Tom who nods in agreement. 

“He would have wanted you to live your life Paige,” he smiles sadly, remembering his friend, and I feel my throat constrict.

“Well, she’s certainly doing that!”
Jax claps her hands. “So Paige, surfing, travelling, I overheard your mom in the store the other day saying you were going swimming with whale sharks?” She opens her mouth in astonishment as I nod in confirmation. “What else have you been up to?” she laughs. I sweep all our rubbish off the table and into the bin before I sit back down and face them.

“It’s a pretty long story,” I say, raising my hand at the passing waitress, indicating that we are ready for our check.
Jax leans back against Tom. As his arms come around her I instinctively find myself missing Adam. 

“Spill,” she instructs, and I laugh before I start talking.

The afternoon with my old friends is cathartic. Being able to speak honestly and openly about Adam to a relatively impartial third party is like someone else taking some of the burden off my shoulders. I feel better after our discussion and I find that I am thinking more clearly and more positively than I have in quite some time. The sun and the fresh air have also been so good for me and by the time I get back home to mom and Frank’s, I am yawning and quite ready for bed. I excuse myself from dinner, take a long hot shower and, pulling on my PJs, I lie back on my bed, picking up my mobile phone from the bedside table.