Waiting on the Rain by Claudia Connor

12

“That’s enough,” Ava’s dad said, and grunted as he dropped back into the chair.

“Nope. Three more,” she told him, touching his calf gently. “Come on, you can do it. Raise your foot. Come on, Dad, really raise it.”

He groaned. “Fine. It’s up.”

“Okay. Hold,” she counted to five the way she’d heard the therapist do it. “Are you holding it or trying to pull one over on me?”

Her mom rushed in—she always seemed to be in a rush. She gathered the dishes beside her dad’s recliner, took them to the kitchen and came back to pick up and stack magazines on the end table. “I’d never get him to do these exercises. He’d be sniping at me the whole time.”

“Dad never snipes,” Ava said, smiling at her dad.

“Hah.” She wrapped an arm around Ava’s shoulder. “We love having you here. I hope you know we appreciate it.”

“I do, and you’re welcome.”

“Do you really have to go back? I know it’s a great job, but—”

“No, Mom. I’m sorry, but this is only temporary, and…”

“And what?”

“Nothing.”

“What’s this nothing? You can’t just say nothing.”

“Oh, God.” She nearly smacked her palm to her forehead. Why had she said anything?

“Ava?” Her mom was waiting.

“I may be getting a new job. I’ve applied for one anyway.”

“Oh?”

“It’s not here, or close,” she said quickly before her mom could get her hopes any higher. “It’s actually in—” She braced herself “— Italy.”

“What? Ava Lane! Italy? What in the world could you possibly have to do in Italy?”

She was an adult. She would remain calm. “I would have a job there, if I get it. I don’t even know if I will which is why I shouldn’t have said anything.” This didn’t need to mirror the battle of wills of her childhood. She made herself smile. “It’d be great really. You and dad could visit.”

“Ava.” Her mother’s tone wasn’t just shocked now, but disappointed. A hundred times worse. “Isn’t New York far enough away from us?”

“I’m not getting away from you, Mom. That’s not why I live in New York.”

“She’s an adult, Nance. Leave her alone.”

“I am leaving her alone. I’m just asking questions for heaven’s sake. I’m sure there are places around here that need translators. Just the other day my friend Carol said how she’d seen a translator at the airport.”

Her mother sighed again and Ava heard her sink onto the couch. She didn’t bother explaining the difference in translator and interpreter, but went to her, touched her shoulder. “Please don’t worry. I probably won’t even get it.”

Same thing she’d said about the swim scholarship. Same thing she’d said about the job in New York. Her parents had always supported her, encouraged her to try but then, at least for her mom’s part, had seemed surprised when she actually succeeded. Like it was safe to tell her to try because she didn’t think she’d actually make it.

She bent to kiss her mother’s cheek. “And hey, you and Daddy have always wanted to travel. If I do get it, I could be your home base as you two gallivant over Europe.”

“Your dad can’t make such a long flight.”

“Ah, Nance, come on, now. I’ll be fit as a fiddle in no time.”

Leave it to her dad to insert the positivity. “I probably won’t even get it, so you don’t need to get upset about it. I’ll get your water, Daddy.” With her cane and her hand out, she went to the kitchen as fast as she could, wishing more than ever that she was home, in her own apartment, where she could walk swiftly and freely without having to feel for every cautious step.

“I have a riding lesson at three, if that’s okay.”

“Sure.” Her mother was pouting. She could hear it in her voice.

And if Luke was there, she’d just avoid him. Or not avoid him. She didn’t need to avoid him. She’d be perfectly pleasant.

* * *

It was almostfour when Luke stopped by the barn on his way home from the lumber yard. The clouds off to the West were dark and there was a flash of lightning. A spring storm he thought, pulling to a stop in front of the barn. He’d just make sure Hannah didn’t need help with the horses before heading to the cabin. The thought of a cold beer on the porch as the rain blew by held more than a little appeal.

A gust of wind whipped his T-shirt and hair as he stepped out of his truck. He made his way through the open doors just as there was another flash followed by a deep rumble of thunder. Closer now.

As soon as he stepped inside the barn he saw her. Ava stood just outside the barn doors at the opposite end so that the dark square of barn wood framed her silhouette in the outside light. Her hair was held by a band at the base of her neck but the wind blew wisps of it around her face. He tried to ignore the quick stir of excitement he felt at the prospect of seeing her again.

Moving toward her, he passed two horses standing in the aisle, saddled and ready, their lead ropes tied to rings on the wall. Odd, he thought, then heard his sister’s voice in the office. From the one-sided conversation he could make out, she was talking to a prospective client.

He watched Ava a moment, her face lifted to the sky. A second later, a crack of lightning struck followed by a boom of thunder close enough to shake his bones. When Ava didn’t move to come in he strode toward her.

“Hey. You looking to get struck by lightning?”

She only smiled, not turning toward him. “Feels good.”

He stood beside her, felt the distinct downdraft of cooler air preceding a storm.

“I like the rain,” he said.

The thunder rolled again, no closer than the last one.

“Do you think it’s going to rain?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s what I’m waiting on. It’s been a really long time since it rained.”

Come to think of it, she was right. But that didn’t explain what she was doing. “Are you doing some sort of experiment? Collecting rain samples?”

“No. I just told you. I like the rain. I like to feel it on my face.”

He leaned back against the doorway, crossed his arms over his chest and just looked at her. God, she was beautiful. Wild now, with her hair flying around her face, not tame or innocent as he’d thought the first time he’d seen her.

And damn it. He had no business starting anything up with Ava. Didn’t even know what he was thinking of starting. It’d been so long since he’d had even the most casual relationship. Really, it had been a long time since he’d had anything at all with a woman.

“I try to imagine what it might look like but it’s hard. I try to imagine what it looks like falling. What it’s shaped like.”

What could he tell her? He didn’t know that he’d ever thought about it enough to describe it. But he could describe her. Oval shaped face, wide forehead completely exposed now with the hair blown back. He’d like to catch all that flying hair, hold it in his fist. It looked so silky, so free.

“So, do you think it will rain?”

The question pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked at the sky. “I don’t know. Might be toying with us, circling around.” He knocked his cap against his thigh. He wanted to say something else, he just didn’t know what it was.

He looked down his hat and smiled. “I have a hat now.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Not a cowboy hat, just a… you know. A regular hat.”

“That’s good. Keeps the sun off.”

“It does.” He zeroed in on a piece of hair that had fallen from her elastic band and hung over her cheek. He wanted to touch her, just to brush his hand over her cheek.

“I think it’s moving away,” she said, her disappointment clear. “I can feel a breeze, the warmth of the sun. Falling snow, which I love. But my favorite is feeling the rain. Oh, well.”

He looked to his right, saw the dark clouds dissipating. He would have brought it back if he could. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay.”

“Is this something you do often? Stand outside, waiting for rain?”

“Depends what you consider often. Seems like it rains more in New York. And maybe I don’t need to stand in the rain so much there.”

“And you need to stand in it here?”

She blew out a breath. “I need to breathe. It’s harder to breathe here. Back under my parents worrying eyes. And no, I can’t see the worry, but I hear it. I can feel it. I have limitations, I know that. They’re just glaringly apparent here. Makes me feel less capable, more blind, if that makes sense. Or maybe just makes me feel like a child.”

“Funny.”

“Really?” She slid her unseeing eyes in his direction then back to the horizon. “Happy to amuse you.”

“No, not funny like that. Just funny because… I guess I’d say the same. Hannah, my brothers, they look at me like I’m one step from the edge. Kinda makes me want to go over, just to piss them off.”

Of course Gary thinks it’s in my head. Maybe it is. He wondered what Ava would say to that. “You don’t do that,” he said.

“I don’t do what?”

“You don’t look at me like that.”

She smiled over. “I don’t look at you at all because I can’t see you.”

“Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s not. You don’t see me, but you look.”

There was some kind of electricity in the air that had nothing to do with the storm. He felt it every time he was within three feet of this woman. But there was also a tension and he wanted to be rid of it. “You still mad at me?”

“What?” She swung her face to his. “When was I mad at you?”

He gave her a look, quickly realized that wouldn’t help her memory and sighed. Damn he talked a lot around her. “Couple days ago. Tack room.”

“Right.” Ava let out a suffering breath and groaned. “Can we please not talk about it?”

“Sure. After you answer my question.”

“Fine. No. I’m not mad. I was embarrassed. Okay? I didn’t see… I couldn’t see to know…” She sighed, shook her head. “I misread. Not the first time and I was more mad at myself than at you.”

“Because you thought I was going to kiss you.”

Her head whipped around to his again, her eyes wide. “Oh, my gosh! Please!”

He took a step closer. “If that’s what you thought, you didn’t misread.” He touched her hair, just a dance of his fingers down the strands blowing over her cheek. “I’d say you read it just right.”

Her mouth opened, closed. It might have been funny, the way they both stood there not knowing what to say next. Might have been, if his heart wasn’t beating so damn hard.

“Hey, Ava!”

Ava and Luke both turned at the sound of Hannah’s voice.

“Hey, Luke. Didn’t know you were here.”

“Yeah. Just stopped by to see if you needed any help.” He pointed to the sky. “Thought it might rain.”

“Thanks, that was sweet. We thought it might rain too.”

“Looks like the storm’s passing,” Ava said.

“Yeah, that’s just what I was coming say. I think so too, but I checked in with the sitter to see if she could stay longer. She can’t.”

“Oh.” A shadow of disappointment fell over Ava’s face. “Well, that’s okay. Another time.”

“I’m really sorry,” Hannah said, touching her shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Luke looked back at the saddled horses and put two and two together. He could volunteer to watch his nephew. Or…

“I can take her.”

Both women swung their faces to him. His sister’s eyes were wide, her brows raised.

“What? You guys had a ride planned, right? I can ride. I’ll take her.”

“That’s okay,” Ava said. “Really. We can just do it another time.” Her face was still a picture of regret as if he hadn’t just offered to fill in.

“Will your brother be able to pick you up earlier?” Hannah asked Ava.

“I’m sure he will. I’ll call him.”

Annoyed, Luke lifted his hands. “Am I invisible here?”

Hannah stared at him. “You’re serious.”

“Of course I’m serious.”

“Okay. Well…Ava, are you good with that?”

“I guess.” She looked at him, seemed be looking right at him this time. “If you’re sure you don’t have—”

“I don’t. Let’s go.” He was done with the back and forth. He moved to untie Newman and started leading him down the aisle. Hannah and Ava did the same with Hannah’s horse, Winnie.

When they got to the end of the aisle and outside, Hannah paused with the reins and waited for Ava to mount up. “Winnie’s a good girl. Sure-footed and dependable. She’ll do whatever you ask,” she said, giving her filly a pat on the neck as Ava took the reins. “And Newman, he’s a good boy but he may get antsy if there’s more thunder.”

Luke put one foot in the stirrup then swung his leg over. He’d done a little riding as a boy at camp and at his uncle’s. He’d done a lot more since coming here. He wasn’t worried. At least not about himself. But as Hannah handed him the lead rope attached to Ava’s horse he felt the weight of responsibility.

No turning back now.