Raising Rain (12 page)

She called Neil, who was on his way home, and read him the letter. When he walked in the door, he read it for himself. Bebe posted it on the refrigerator with a magnet and they paused to read it several times during the evening. They each wrote letters to Scotty while they relaxed watching the Giants game and folded laundry on the couch. Bebe called Dylan to see how he was doing and found that he had also
received a letter from Scott. He said it was basically the same, but she wondered what details Scott may have included in his brother's letter that he didn't share with them.

Dylan's classes were going well and he had an interview for a job at an off-campus bookstore, but he would insist on having Labor Day weekend off if they offered him the job. He sounded like the same old Dylan, but with an added dimension that they weren't part of. In the background, they heard guys calling for him to hurry up because they were leaving for McDonalds.

She handed the phone to Neil who spoke briefly to Dylan and hung up.

“Fries are calling,” he said, then went back to watching the game.

On the Sunday that Hayden had arranged to stop by, Rain found herself cleaning up the house and applying makeup. She wasn't sure when or if Hayden would actually come by, but she didn't want to look pathetic if he did—especially if he brought along a “friend.”

They had bought the house together without even the suggestion of marriage. Hayden knew how Rain felt about it, and the subject was never raised. He'd moved in with his clothes and books, which was basically what he left with. The only mutual purchase that he took was the flatscreen TV, which she wasn't upset about. He didn't take furniture or kitchen appliances, and it seemed so easy that she wondered whether he had another place waiting for him. Another home she didn't know about.

While she waited, she called her mother to see how she was feeling. William answered, saying that Jude had had another treatment that week and asked if she wanted to speak to her. Rain heard another female voice in the room, and she would have thought it was the television, if she hadn't heard William answer before handing the phone to Jude. Her mother was coherent, but groggy, and determined to return to work the next day.

During the whole phone conversation, Rain kept a lookout for
Hayden's car. She decided to wait to go to Whole Foods until after he came by because she was impatient to get his things out of the house. The afternoon wore on and she began to regret giving up a whole Sunday to wait around for him, but by then, it was really too late to leave. If she missed him now, he would just have to reschedule. She grew tired of Noah begging for food, so she opened the back door and shooed him outside. Then she heard Hayden's car pull into the driveway.

She peeked out the window and stepped back to watch him without being seen through the miniblinds. The driver's door of the Expedition opened and Hayden stepped out. She felt relieved that he was alone. He shut the door and shook the wrinkles from his khakis. The first thing she noticed was his tan and his hair curling long in the front where he needed a haircut. He wore a collared polo shirt in that soft shade of green that looked great with his eyes. She wondered where he was going, all dressed up.

When he came up to the door, she jumped back to the hallway to give the illusion that she was coming from a distant room instead of watching for his car. She let him knock twice before she called “Coming,” counted to five, and opened the door.

They both said hello and she stepped aside to let him in. Strange, that he needed permission to enter the place he'd called home for seven years. He still had a key, and she wondered whether he ever secretly stopped by when she was at work. She never saw signs of intrusion.

She offered him a seat on the sofa that they had bought together the weekend after they'd moved in. He sat on the edge of the leather cushion and looked around.

“Where's Noah?”

“I just let him out. I can call him.” She started to get up but Hayden quickly answered, “No, that's not necessary. Thanks.”

He sniffed. “Is that mango?”

She remembered her plug-in air freshener. “Yes.”

A long period of silence ensued while they both cast around for something to latch on to, some common, neutral ground without buried landmines just waiting for them to detonate.

Finally, Hayden asked, “How is your mother?”

Rain wondered how he knew, but she couldn't read his face. “She has good days and bad days. They're trying out an experimental drug, but if it doesn't work, there's not much else they can do for her.”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Sorry to hear that.”

“She wants to have a Celebration of Life before she dies. One last chance to make her mark. She wants me and the old roommates involved in the planning of it.”

“Knowing your mother, it sounds complicated.”

“That's exactly what I said. But Bebe's unofficially in charge. Maybe she can satisfy Mom.”

“How are Bebe and Neil?”

“They're fine.” She gestured to his face. “I see you got some sun.”

He raised his hand to the bridge of his nose. “I overdid it a bit. I was sick for two days.”

She noticed that his hand was healing from a bad scrape. “What happened?” she asked, motioning to his hand.

He turned it over to look at the back, and then curled it into a fist and covered it with his other hand. “It's nothing. I was . . . just helping out a friend.”

An awkward silence descended. He didn't elaborate on his vacation. Finally, he said, “Well, I don't want to keep you. I'd better get my things.”

He stood up and went back toward the bedrooms. Rain remained on the couch with her hands in her lap, listening to the sounds of another human being in her home. For a moment, the sounds were so normal and natural and she sighed deeply. She wavered. Was their life so empty, their home so lacking in love that a child was needed to fill it? Was that part of her that yearned for motherhood not to be denied without eternal consequences?

Eventually, Hayden came out of the extra bedroom—the future nursery—with a box of winter clothing and his ski pants. He stacked them by the door and went to the stereo. He shuffled through the rack of CDs, pulling out some of her favorites, because they were also his.

He stood up and asked, “Do you mind?”

She shook her head. “No, go ahead. They're on my iPod.”

He smiled nervously and something stirred within her. She pushed it down, turned to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water.

She heard him go out the front door, and for a moment she thought he'd left without saying good-bye, but the stack was still sitting by the door. She heard the garage door open and he brought out his skis and placed them in the back of the Expedition, and then he loaded the box and CDs.

She was standing in the kitchen drinking her water with the island counter between them when he came in to say he was leaving. He hesitated at the door and looked back, and then said good-bye and closed the door behind him.

Rain heard his car drive away, and she went to the back door to call Noah. He was waiting on the step. Perhaps he'd heard Hayden's car and had wanted to come inside.

She opened a can of tuna and poured half of it into Noah's bowl as a peace offering. Then she wandered from room to room, seeing what was missing, and finally went out to the garage. She flipped on the dim light switch, and saw her skis hanging on the wall with a bare spot beside them. She turned the light off and went back inside.

Rain took off her makeup and changed into her comfy clothes. She took the whole container of Dreyer's Girl Scouts Thin Mint ice cream to the couch with a big spoon and sat with her feet crisscrossed in front of her. She clicked on the small television she had brought in from the bedroom to replace the monstrosity that Hayden had taken away, and watched reruns of
Project Runway
.

It was perfectly natural to feel lousy after all that had happened, she reasoned. But she had to move ahead. A baby was something she wanted so badly, and she had to stay focused or her window of opportunity would close forever.

Noah jumped up on the couch, licking his lips and breathing his tuna breath in her face. He curled up by her side and gave his paws a thorough cleaning.

She wondered whether Hayden was happy to have that bit of business over and done with. Their meeting had reminded her of the striking figure he made, tall and self-possessed as though he'd stepped from a Jane Austen novel. Did he regret moving out? Did he ever have second thoughts about having a baby? Was he simply glad to get away?

Something her mother had said in her drug-induced haze came back to Rain, and Rain wondered at the answer.

She realized she still wanted Hayden. But did she need him?

M
onday morning offered the favorite part of Bebe's job—giving a wellness checkup to an eight-week-old kitten.

“Our neighbor's cat had kittens in our attic, so we got to pick,” said the kitten's ten-year-old mommy, Dakota. “We named her Rogue because of the white fur on her forehead. You know, Rogue from the
X-Men
? She has a piece of hair that went white after she died.”

“Oh, I see,” said Bebe as she took the kitten's temperature.

“There were five kittens and we could see them playing on the roof,” said Dakota's mom. “We had a hard time catching them all when the mother cat finally brought them down. They were absolutely wild.”

“Well, you've done a fine job of domesticating Rogue.” Bebe made a notation on Rogue's chart that her temperature was normal and she checked her ears. The kitten gripped Bebe's hand and dug in her claws playfully. She tried to sink her baby teeth into Bebe's finger, but didn't like the taste of Bebe's antiseptic soap. “She appears to be very healthy for a roof-cat. Are we vaccinating her today?”

“Yes, please, and we want to check into having her spayed.”

“We don't want any more kittens on our roof,” said Dakota.

“That's what I would recommend. But we usually spay at about five months. You can schedule the procedure with Georgeann when you stop by the front desk to arrange for her boosters in four weeks. And you should have a talk with your neighbor.” Bebe smoothed the fur on Rogue's neck and the kitten relaxed in her lap. The kitten's eyes rolled back while they talked, and she soon fell asleep. Bebe administered the shots, which drew little response from Rogue and her eyes soon closed again.

She handed the kitten back to Dakota and made a note in the file. Rogue stirred briefly and then lay completely limp on her back in Dakota's arms with her paws dangling. Bebe reached over and gently rubbed her tummy. “Do you have any questions for me?”

“We were interested in getting a chip, in case she gets lost.”

“That's a great idea, even if Rogue is mainly a housecat.”

“How much does it cost?”

“I think it's forty dollars to inject the device and eighteen to have her registered in the database. You might want to confirm that at the front desk.”

“Oh, I see,” said the mom. “Maybe we'll do that when we come back for her boosters.”

“We also have brochures available,” said Bebe. “Just make sure you update your contact information yearly, or any time that you move.”

Bebe smoothed the feathery fur beneath Rogue's chin by way of saying good-bye and walked them to the front desk where she slid the kitten's file into a plastic holder on the wall. She said that the staff would be right with them to set up a follow-up appointment for Rogue.

Bebe washed her hands and headed into Room 4, pulling the patient's file from the slot on the door and perusing it briefly before knocking and entering. Scout, an Aussie-German Shepherd mix, needed a foxtail removed from his ear. Later in the morning, a teeth cleaning was scheduled for a fox terrier named Jerome, and a parakeet named Chipper was seen for loss of feathers around his eyes. Bebe told Chipper's owner that she wasn't an avian veterinarian, but suspected
that the condition was due to a sinus infection. The bird left a spot on Bebe's scrubs, which she tried to remove before seeing her next patient.