Raising Rain (37 page)

As the appointment drew closer, Bebe skipped classes and drank whatever was in the cupboards or fridge. Her morning sickness increased and she couldn't eat. She ignored Mare when she tried to talk to her about her drinking, and Toni, when she wanted to know if Bebe was throwing up so badly because she had the flu. On Friday night, when the house throbbed with Hendrix and unidentified bodies, she accepted a joint that was passed around, and then something stronger that made her skin crawl and left her hugging the toilet with dry heaves. On Sunday night, when she sobered up, she realized that her stomach cramped for a different reason. She found that she was spotting heavily.

As the night wore on, her cramps increased until she rocked on the bathroom floor, hugging a pillow to her stomach and biting the cotton pillowcase to keep quiet. The cramps threatened to split her gut in
two. In the early morning hours, frightened and exhausted, she passed large blood clots and considered going to emergency. Afterward, the cramps began to ease, and she crawled into bed, so weak and pale she could hardly stand.

Jude stuck her head in her bedroom door at seven o'clock and asked her if she needed a ride to her appointment. Something kept Bebe from telling her about the night before, and she reminded Jude that she had a ride. Jude left for class, followed by Toni. Mare almost didn't accept her answer that she was okay, and said she would check on her later. Bebe listened, frightened, to the quiet house when Mare slammed the door, and wondered if she would die alone in her bed.

During the morning, she passed more heavy clots, and Mare came home early from class to find her shivering and crying on the bathroom floor. Mare turned white at the sight of the blood, and Bebe confessed what had happened. Mare forced her to eat some dry toast, which stayed down for the first time in days. Bebe bathed briefly and dressed, which exhausted her, and when Mare tried to insist that she go to emergency, Bebe said that she was afraid they would call her parents. Mare found a free women's clinic in the phone directory instead. Armed with the address, Mare dug in Toni's drawer for cash, leaving an IOU, and called a cab.

They examined her at the clinic and said she had miscarried. It appeared to be clean, and she would heal naturally. They asked her questions about her pregnancy and whether anything had happened that may have caused the miscarriage. She thought of the days of bingeing, but knew they were looking for something more deliberate, and answered no. They gave her a prescription and told her to call them if the spotting didn't dissipate, or if she developed a fever. They told her to go immediately to emergency if she had uncontrollable bleeding, and they repeated it to Mare and cautioned her that Bebe shouldn't be left alone for the next twenty-four hours. They wanted to see Bebe in a week. Mare got another cab to take them home, where she put Bebe to bed.

Jude checked in on her when she got home late that afternoon. Bebe faked sleep and postponed an actual conversation until the following
morning. Mare insisted on taking her temperature, and Bebe didn't argue. It was normal, which was a relief. No infection there.

Mare turned to go, and Bebe asked her not to tell Jude what really happened.

“Don't worry. I get it,” Mare said. “Jude's easier to live with if she gets what she wants. And for some reason she wanted you to go through with it.”

Bebe thought it was a sign of the times that Jude treated her with a new level of respect after that. She tried to play it down, feeling like a fraud in front of Mare, who pretended not to notice. Eventually Bebe came to realize that Toni knew, also.

“I had to explain the IOU,” Mare said. “She's cool with it. Don't worry. She won't say anything.”

For weeks, Bebe alternated between privately mourning for her loss and feeling euphoric with relief. She always wondered what she would have chosen, if the decision hadn't been taken out of her hands.

Jude tried to get Bebe to share about her abortion with a group at the women's clinic on campus, but she refused. Eventually, Jude let it go.

In the weeks that followed, Jude began to show signs of morning sickness herself. Bebe feared that she would ask her to go with her to the abortion, but weeks went by, and Jude never mentioned it. Mare and Toni asked Bebe if she knew what was up with Jude. Jude overheard them discussing her and came out to the kitchen, looking pale but defiant. That's when she announced that she was indeed pregnant and she had made a momentous decision. Instead of getting an abortion, she would have the baby and raise her to be a new woman.

None of them asked the obvious. What if it was a boy? Jude would will the baby's gender to be female.

She was due in November, and anyone who was still a roomie by then would have to pitch in to help. If they wanted out, they could move at the end of the semester.

A heavy, impenetrable veil fell between Bebe and Jude at that moment. Bebe drew it aside on the day that Jude came home from the hospital and she took Rain from her arms.

M
are, Toni, and Rain found Bebe and Jude sitting silently beside each other on the bench in front of the kelp forest. Bebe saw them pass a look between them.

“Anyone hungry?” Toni asked. “It's almost one o'clock. Maybe we should find a place for lunch.”

Mare looked back over her shoulder. “I need to pick up sea otters for Sammy and Wesley at the gift shop before we go.”

Bebe stood and said, “I'll get the car if you want to meet me out front in ten minutes or so.” She dug out her keys as she turned, and Toni caught up with her as she headed toward the exit.

“I'll try to hurry, but the gift shop looks pretty crowded,” Mare called.

When they were out on the street, Toni asked, “So, how was it babysitting Jude?”

“Just . . . think of a place to eat,” Bebe said, irritably.

Toni dropped back a stride behind her, and Bebe led the way up to the parking lot.

Twenty minutes later, they had loaded up the car and were heading down Cannery Row.

“So tell me where I'm going,” Bebe said, glancing at the dark clouds lining up on the horizon.

“What about Gianni's?” Mare offered.

“Pizza?” Toni chuckled. “I'm buying, Mare.”

“Well, the pizza's excellent,” Mare said, sounding offended.

“Yes, it is. But I want something special.” Toni thought and then said, “Turn us around, Bebe. Go back. Take Lighthouse to Pacific Grove.”

“Not Toasties again,” Mare said.

“No, Mare,” Toni said, settling into her seat with a satisfied smile. “Tarantella's.”

“What do they serve?” Rain asked.

“Pasta, salads, sandwiches, escargot. It's good. Even you'll find something you like, Mare.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Mare answered.

Toni dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “I mean something . . . vegan.”

The food at Tarantella's was excellent. Toni was in high spirits—she was definitely in her element—but even though she managed not to antagonize Mare even once, a mood had settled on everyone. Bebe avoided looking at Jude, feeling conflicted about their conversation, and not wanting it continued in front of the others. Rain seemed preoccupied and said little, pushing her salad around on her plate. Mare got a look at the bill before Toni scooped it up and calculated the tip, but Toni refused to let anyone chip in.

By the time they drove back to the house, the storm clouds that had gathered offshore were driven in by the wind. Raindrops had begun to pelt the ground. They locked all the windows up tight and changed into comfortable clothes.

Rain followed Jude to her room to help her get situated. Then she came out and closed the door firmly behind her. She joined the others in the kitchen, waiting for the pot of coffee to finish brewing, and sat
at a stool by the counter to check her e-mail. The aroma of fresh coffee was warm and comforting.

She had an e-mail from the planning committee of her high school asking for help with the next reunion, which she deleted. There was no one from high school she cared to ever see again. She deleted another message that was clearly spam, which seemed to sneak through every filter.

“Here, Rain,” Mare said, handing her a steaming mug. “You want sugar or cream?”

“Black's good,” she answered. She saw a familiar e-mail address that made her stop and turn the laptop screen out of view of the others. It was a message from Hayden to his entire address book, advising them of his new address and phone number, and that he had posted photos of his Mexico trip on Facebook. Her e-mail address was lumped alphabetically in the list with all the family, friends, and casual acquaintances he knew. His message was perfunctory and general, saying that life was good and inviting contact from anyone on the list. At least he hadn't deleted her. She wondered what he would do if she showed up on his doorstep. She examined the addresses more closely, and found some names that were unknown to her. He must have added them since he'd moved out. Rain hadn't added a name to her address book in a year or more.

Her curiosity got the best of her, and she logged on to Facebook and navigated to his page. At least he hadn't blocked her there, either. His profile picture had changed. It was a silhouette of his smiling, sunburned face against a background of blazing blue sky, striking and handsome, taken at an angle that would have been impossible to do on his own.

She saw that he had posted new pictures, and she hesitated before clicking on them. Did she really want to see if he was happy, or if he was with someone else?

She held her breath and clicked on an album labeled “Mexico.” When it opened, she didn't know what to think. These were no pictures of resort beaches, snorkeling expeditions, and beautiful bodies.

They were photos of a half-completed cinder block and wood building in a remote location and people she didn't know. Hayden wore old jeans and a sweat-stained T-shirt and sported a bandanna rolled up and tied around his forehead. He appeared rumpled, filthy, and very happy. He posed with a group of adults with their arms draped over each other's shoulders, surrounded by a band of barefoot, smiling children. Rain bit her bottom lip at the blonde standing wedged between Hayden and another man. She was pleasantly browned with a glistening smile. The last photo showed Hayden with a Hispanic man who wore a sparkling white button-down shirt and clutched a Bible. They stood before the completed building where a cross hung above the door.

Rain felt at a loss to explain it. She did not recognize anyone in the pictures and had never heard Hayden mention a desire to join a work party in Mexico. She remembered his sunburned nose and the scrapes on his hand when he came to pick up his belongings months before. So he hadn't been girl-watching on the beach after all. He'd been doing manual labor building a church. What had prompted him to do this, and how had she not known this side of him?

The folder labeled “Thanksgiving” contained pictures of his family at dinner. She smiled when she saw one of Hayden and his parents together. He had his dad's build and his mother's coloring and facial features. There were other photos of nephews, nieces, sisters, and brothers. She caught her breath at one of Hayden holding a sleeping infant—probably his sister's new baby. He looked a bit nervous but natural at the same time.

It reminded her that he was gone, not because he didn't want children, but that he didn't want her. She was becoming like Jude and she didn't know how to stop it.

He seemed so happy with his family, so contented. She felt bitter that he could find contentment so quickly without her. Suddenly bereft, and sinking fast in front of Bebe, Mare, and Toni, she closed out her email and shut down the computer. In a blur of tears, she quickly hopped down from the stool and clipped the top of her thigh on the edge of the counter. She cried out and doubled over in pain, grasping her bruised
thigh where the injections had made the skin tender and sore.

Bebe was the first one to her side, helping her to sit down in a chair. Mare and Toni put down their mugs and came over.

“It's nothing,” Rain said, massaging her thigh and fighting back tears.

“Come on, let's have a look,” Bebe said, tugging at her pants leg.

Rain pulled away from Bebe more roughly than she intended. “It's nothing,” she said, feeling like a petulant five-year-old. The look of hurt on Bebe's face made her feel even worse.

Bebe gave her some space, and asked calmly, “Can you walk on it?”

“I'll be fine,” she said, and rose to her feet to prove it.

“Be careful, Rain,” Mare said. “You don't want to get a blood clot or anything.”

Toni said, “For crying out loud, Mare.”

Rain limped away toward her bedroom, refusing help, and got halfway down the hall before she regretted leaving her coffee mug behind. She pushed open the door of her room and sank down carefully onto the bed. She gingerly rolled up her pants leg to examine the bruises. A red gash crossed a particularly greenish-purple bruise.