Waiting on the Rain by Claudia Connor

15

“Yo,” Luke said, answering his cell.

“Hey,” Zach said on the other end. “Why can’t you return a text?”

“I’m driving,” he said, reaching to turn down the radio. “Safety first.”

“Right. You’ve been driving since yesterday.”

Luke ignored that. “What’s up?”

“Darts at Dudley’s Thursday night.”

“With your guys? Sure. I could do that.”

“No, not my guys. Hannah has decreed we’re going to do something as a family. She said she doesn’t feel part of the group, that we do stuff together, yada, yada.”

“The only stuff we do is working around the farm.”

“I told her that. And she said she feels left out because we do guy stuff.”

“Well, isn’t drinking beer and throwing darts kind of a guy thing?”

“Right,” Zach said. “Let me know when you tell her that because I want to watch.”

“Mmm,” was all Luke said, thinking better of the guy thing comment.

“It’s important to her,” Zach added when Luke didn’t reply.

Luke sighed.

“Come on. It’s a couple of beers. A game. You can do that.”

“I’ve got a lot to do on the cabin.”

“You can spare a couple of hours. Come on. She’s been trying to fix it so all our schedules match up for weeks.”

Luke tapped his finger on the steering wheel.

“If you say you can’t go because you have to work on her cabin, she’ll probably cry or something.”

“That’s low.”

Zach laughed. “You’ll manage. I’ll even give you a few hours Saturday to help you make up the time.”

Luke appreciated his brother’s confidence in him and there were a couple of things he could use a hand with. “Okay. Deal.”

He hung up, turned the radio back up, but continued to tap his finger on the steering wheel. Family night.

They’d had those, he remembered, when he was young. Lots of them before Hannah had been born. His parents with four boys. Then maybe a couple with Hannah, a toddler, then… They were gone. Just like that. No more family nights. No more hair rumples from his mom. No more how was your day from his dad. Just… gone.

The music in his truck was replaced by the music in his head. Church music. Funeral music. Too loud and too optimistic.

The church had smelled of candle wax and the incense usually reserved for Good Friday and Easter. He’d mostly thought it was cool, but not on that day. On that day it had made him sick. The smooth wooden pew was hard but he didn’t shift like he usually did during Mass. The starch in his collar scratched his neck but he didn’t pull at it.

Coughs echoed hollowly. People sniffed and blew noses. Dim, cloudy–day light came through the stained-glass windows on either side, leading to the front of the church. His dad’s coffin was covered in white and a lot of green. His mom’s in white and green but with pink mixed in. To tell them apart since the coffins were the same?

Some of his friends were there, most with their parents; a few he knew weren’t even Catholic. A good excuse to skip school, he thought. He’d skipped school a few times, made his dad look at him with disappointment in his eyes.

There’d been a lady right behind him belting out the words of returning home and being with God. He hadn’t sung, not a word, and it had taken all his strength not to turn around and tell her to shut the hell up.

His younger twin brothers, Zach and Dallas, had cried and accepted the hugs of the people who’d come to say they were sorry. His older brother Nick had held a crying Hannah.

He’d held nothing. Nothing but anger and regret.

* * *

Ava was just gettinginto bed with an audio book when her phone buzzed with an incoming call. Not expecting any calls tonight, she’d turned the audio off that would have announced the caller.

She sighed, considering leaving it until tomorrow. But it could be work. Could be Luke, she thought, though he didn’t have her number and they hadn’t spoken since they’d gone riding three days ago. Not that she didn’t still think about that kiss.

With a sigh, she put aside her iPad and grabbed her phone to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey. Ava.”

Blake. Her heart didn’t thump like it did when she was with Luke. It stopped, as if just hearing his name froze her in a place she hated being.

“Hi,” she said coolly. She really needed to tell him to stop. Stop calling, stop emailing. But wouldn’t that seem like she wasn’t over him? She didn’t want him to know just how badly he’d hurt her.

“Just checking in. You didn’t return my email.”

“Sorry. I’ve been busy.”

“I get it,” he said cheerfully. “How are things going? How’s your dad?”

“He’s good.” As if you care. Her parents had been almost as heartbroken as she had. She hated knowing that part of their hurt was because they thought Blake had been their daughter’s only chance at love. At a normal life. And they couldn’t have been happier when he’d regained his sight.

Now our daughter who insists on living in a faraway city will have someone to take care of her!

“Yeah? That’s good. How long do you think you’ll be down there?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“Oh, well. I wanted to tell you that um… Well…”

Good grief. He always stalled when he was nervous. Like when he’d dropped her coffee on the way home or broken the butter dish. Again. She used to try to help him out. Fill in the blank with something funny. She had no desire to help him now so she let the silence hang.

She couldn’t imagine what was so hard for him to say. After all, he’d managed pretty well telling her he didn’t love her any more, that he wanted a divorce. That he’d found someone else. Oh, he’d hemmed and hawed but he’d gotten it out.

“I’ve asked Emily to marry me. She’s um… well…” He let out a nervous laugh. “We’re having a baby.”

Everything in her slowed. Her breathing. Her blood flow. She should say congratulations. She tried. She opened her mouth, but the word just wouldn’t come out.

He hadn’t said Emily’s pregnant. Not Emily’s having a baby, but we’re having a baby.

And hadn’t she known he’d be like that? An all-in, hands on kind of dad. If he could see, that is. Because they’d decided together not to have kids. That it wouldn’t be fair for a child to have two totally blind parents and even more than fairness, they’d both been concerned about safety.

“Ava. Say something.”

“What do you want me to say? Congratulations, I guess, would be the right thing.”

“I know you think that’s part of the reason things didn’t work out between us, but—”

“Things didn’t work out between us because you met someone else, Blake. While we were still married.” She didn’t know if he’d cheated physically, didn’t trust him when he said he hadn’t and wasn’t sure if it mattered. He’d moved on to someone else right under her nose and she hadn’t even known.

He didn’t want to be married anymore. He’d found someone else. When the day had come, she couldn’t even say she’d been shocked. She didn’t fight it. He’d move out, she’d keep the apartment—it had been hers to begin with anyway. And a week later the papers were signed.

And shit. Now she’d made it sound like she wasn’t over him. But damn if she’d let him turn things around now to make himself feel better, like it had been some kind of mutual decision.

“Okay,” Blake said softly. “You’re right. But I hope you know I didn’t plan it.”

I didn’t plan on this. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I wish I didn’t feel this way. I wish I still felt the same.

Meaning, I wish I still loved you. God, that had hurt. She pressed a hand to her chest at the memory of that pain.

Plan what? Finding a woman whose eyes worked? Someone to have a family with?

Because that’s what he’d done. He’d always said having a baby wasn’t a good idea for two blind parents. After he’d gotten his sight back, he’d decided even one blind parent was too much.

No. She gave herself a shake. She wasn’t going to let herself fall into this pit again.

“You know what? Forget it,” she said putting a brightness into her voice. “I’m happy for you.”

“Ava—”

“No. Really. And congratulations,” she added, without choking on the word.

“I don’t know how many people you keep up with from work so I just… I wanted you to hear it from me so you weren’t blindsided.”

“Not hard to blindside the blind,” she said, forcing a laugh.

“Ava.”

“I’m joking.” Or trying to. And it might be the United Nations with serious work, but there was still office gossip. She wanted to get away from that, too. Far away. Italy away. “Thanks for telling me. And … good luck. With everything.”

She ended the call before he could fall into his usual spiel that he still cared about her, that he hadn’t meant to hurt her.

She still hadn’t decided if it mattered. Would it have hurt more if he’d stopped loving her on purpose?

She’d nearly convinced herself Blake was just another asshole and she was like so many other women who’d have fallen for one. A player. A liar. But then she’d had to face the truth. He wasn’t a terrible person. She hadn’t been deceived that way. He’d just stopped loving her. He’d wanted a different kind of life, one where he and his spouse could go jogging in the park, stroll through an art museum and argue the merits of Picasso over Rembrandt. But bottom line, he’d gotten his sight back and then he’d stopped loving her.

Putting her phone aside, she reached for her iPad, determined to get lost in someone else’s story.