Waiting on the Rain by Claudia Connor
20
She needed to swim. That’s what Ava thought as she downed the last of her morning coffee. It’d been a few days since she’d told Luke they should be friends. She hadn’t been riding since then, not because she was avoiding him, just…because.
She needed to move, to burn some energy and frustration. Her parents, her growing feelings for Luke Walker.
“Hey, Mom?”
She turned to face the direction her mother sat at the kitchen table. “I was thinking I might take you up on your offer and go to the Y.” Her mom had been a member at the YMCA for as long as she could remember. “I’ve been missing the exercise.”
“You’re rail thin,” her mom scoffed. “You don’t need to exercise.”
“Well… I’d still like to go. You know exercise isn’t only about losing weight. It’s good for the soul, the mind. Gets those happy endorphins flowing.”
“Well, I don’t know if we should leave your father. And I don’t think they have my aerobics class today.”
“I wasn’t really thinking both of us. I’d really like to swim.”
“Oh, Ava. I don’t think you want to swim in that pool. For one thing the water is frigid.”
Ava stood and went to the sink with her empty mug. It was a straight shot, six steps. “Once I get going I’ll warm up. That is why they kept the water cooler, after all. Because the pool was used for swimming laps. Dad’s already done his PT this morning,” she went on, before her mother could list more reasons she shouldn’t.
“How would you get there? I guess I could drop you, but it’s all the way across town.”
In the city, her gym was two blocks away. And she never had to ask permission or give explanations. She just decided and she went. Maybe it had been a mistake to stay away so much that her parents really hadn’t gotten used to seeing how she managed by herself.
“I’ll call a ride with my app. I do it all the time,” she said quickly, ready for the protest.
“I wish you wouldn’t. I just don’t think it’s safe. I’ve seen it on the news, Ava. Uber drivers abducting people.”
“Mom.” Ava turned, smiling. “Do you really see that all the time?”
She heard her mom’s chair slide back and the sound of her slippers on the tile. “Okay. Maybe it was once, but—”
“But nothing.” She kissed her mother’s cheek as she joined her at the sink. “It’ll help me to get out and burn off some energy.”
“Nance?” Her father called from the other room and Ava made her escape.
She used the ride app on her phone to call for a pick-up and when she got the message back that her ride was five only minutes away, she grabbed a bag, stuffed in her suit and a towel and went out the front door to wait.
Not for the first time, she wished she was home. A gym she was familiar with. With public transportation she relied on. But she hadn’t lied, she did use Uber occasionally, but it could be tricky since she couldn’t see exactly where the pick up dot was. Here in front of her parents’ house shouldn’t be a problem.
Using her cane, she made her way down the sidewalk to wait at the mailbox. She heard, then felt a car approach, but she waited for the driver to put down the window and say her name.
“Yes. Thank you.” She felt for the passenger door and got in.
“Hello,” he said. Bob was his name, according to the app. He sounded middle aged and had a jazz station playing on low.
She took the time to think things through. There’d be a sign in desk. She’d need to show her ID, her proof of parents’ membership then find her way to the pool. If she had to ask for help, she would. She accepted that sometimes there was no other way.
It was an eighteen to twenty-minute drive so she sat lost in her own thoughts. Her dad, her job at the UN, and the possibility of a job in Italy. She pictured herself strolling old streets, running her fingers over swirling limestone architecture. Popping into delis for Prosciutto and pastries. She smiled remembering Luke’s observation that maybe she loved the city for the food. Then she just remembered Luke.
There was no denying the attraction, the deeper interest. He was an interesting man. But she’d made the decision to step back from whatever was happening between them and it was the right one. She was only going to be here another month, maybe six weeks. No need to set herself up for rejection.
And on the heels of that thought came anger. She’d never expected to be rejected and now she expected nothing else. It pissed her off that Blake had done that. Had changed her. Like the surgery had changed him.
She couldn’t blame him, at least not for that. Being able to see after not seeing was a huge change. A huge adjustment. Something as simple as walking through a park was new and exciting.
“It’s so bright, Ava,” Blake had said, a few weeks after his surgery, as they walked through Central Park. “I know I keep saying it, but you just can’t understand how bright it is. Like a ball of fire that you can only look at for a second before having to look away.”
It was winter, but she’d known the sun was out, felt the warmth on her face as she walked beside Blake through the park. She’d been happy to be out with him, her hand on his arm. They used to eat lunch in a park near the UN almost every day. Lately he’d started taking lunch with his coworkers in an adjoining building.
“Oh, my gosh, you should see the flowers. There’s already so many more than there were just last week. Yellow and pink and red.”
She didn’t know yellow. Or red or pink, but she nodded, smiled and let him talk and narrate as he’d done nonstop since the day he opened his new eyes to a whole new world. Like her, Blake had been blind since birth and the joy in his voice was palpable. She couldn’t imagine all he was seeing for the first time.
His sight had been blurry at first and a harder, slower recovery than either of them had expected, but it had worked. His employer had given him the time off for the surgery, then more for recovery. And she’d had enough vacation time to take off two weeks to be with him full time.
“It’s not at all like I pictured. Just the people. There’s so many more, so close together, but not touching.
They paused at a stone railing and Blake went on. “Oh, Ava! You should see these kids. The boy on the end there,” he pointed with their joined hands. “He’s got the rhythm with his arms but his feet are all over the place.” He laughed, and as they stood there, laughed again.
Ava smiled. “What’s he doing now?”
“He’s—” He broke off with a bark of laughter.
“Is that the cutest thing you ever saw?” A female voice on Blake’s other side asked.
“It really is. Look at the one in the red jacket?”
The two of them laughed.
Ava smiled. “Now what’s he doing?”
“Oh, he tried to do a spin and landed on his ass—and, there he goes again.”
Ava stared at nothing, tried to picture. Tried to see the humor.
Blake chatted it up with the other viewer and Ava gradually stopped asking questions and listened to their byplay. It was enough to hear his enjoyment. To be outside with the chilly spring air biting at her nose and the sun warming her back.
She hadn’t thought she’d find love. Maybe because she was blind, or maybe just because. Then, in her late twenties, she had. She and Blake had so many shared experiences, growing up blind. And they were the same in a lot of ways, in that one major way. And then they weren’t.
She didn’t have that in common with Luke, and yet she felt…happy when she was with him. Happier than she’d been in so long. Maybe that’s why he scared her so much. Luke took the time to explain things in a way Blake hadn’t been able to. And then he hadn’t wanted to.
The car she was riding in came to a hard stop, bringing her back to the present. “Are we there?”
“No.”
Bob was a driver of few words.
“Almost there?”
“No.” The car started moving again and she drew her bag closer to her chest. She pulled up the guide on her phone. Put the direction on speaker.
“We are going there,” Bob spat, then mumbled something else under his voice.
“Okay. Thank you.” Dread was creeping in.
“Rerouting,” her phone said in a cheerful computer voice.
“I’m going to the YMCA,” she told Bob in a pleasant voice. The impulse to be pleasant and courteous to a person driving you was instinctual. They did, after all, hold all the power. They had your life in their hands, literally.
She loosened the grip she had on her phone and tried again to refresh the maps app. Even if it did refresh and read out her current location, she wouldn’t know where that was. The town had changed a lot in twenty years. There was no way to know if she was where she was supposed to be.
“Can you tell me what street this is?”
He answered her, said something she assumed was a street name but she didn’t catch it. Didn’t understand him or it wasn’t familiar. Nothing was familiar. She missed the constancy of the New York subway system where she could count stops and hear the announcements.
How long had she been in this car? How long was she going to stay in this car? Without audible navigation, he could take her anywhere. He could be driving her out of town and she wasn’t familiar enough with the area to know.
And she thought she could move to a foreign country? But in the city, even Italy, she’d be on foot, there would be landmarks. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so lost in New York. “Excuse me, I’d like to get out.”
“We’re not there.” The car didn’t slow.
“That’s okay. I want to get out here.” Were they speeding up? “Please. Excuse me,” she said again, more forcefully. “I want to get out here.”
“I can not stop here.”
Why? She wanted to scream. She couldn’t see why he couldn’t stop. She was at his mercy and she didn’t trust him. Maybe an overreaction, but she had a bad feeling and she believed in trusting her instincts. She swiped her finger over her phone, ready to call for help. Her hands were shaking. What would Bob do if he heard her telling Siri to call the police? And what would she tell them?
“Stop and let me out right now,” she said more forcefully, unbuckling her seatbelt. “I want you to stop. Right here. Just stop right here.”
“Okay, lady. Okay. Fine.” The car made a tight, fast turn, slamming her into the door. She was just about to make the call when the car stopped short, throwing her forward. She already had her bag and phone and didn’t hesitate. They could be in the middle of a busy road for all she knew, but at this point she’d take her chances.
The relief she felt standing on solid ground was short lived. She had no idea where she was. She smelled the exhaust from the car and heard the Uber drive off, leaving her in the quiet unknown.
Using her cane, she continued with a slow, shuffling step, moving away from where she’d just exited the car. After two small steps she paused, listened, moved her cane in wide arcs out in front of her and felt nothing. A new panic bubbled up and she questioned those instincts she’d followed.
She took another two steps, feeling with her cane and finally hit something. Cautiously stepping forward, she reached a step up, and checking with her cane didn’t feel another.
She counted ten steps straight ahead before she reached a wall, assuring herself she hadn’t been let out on a narrow median. She took a calming breath, then turning, she walked in one direction, feeling the drop off on her left, the wall continuing on her right. She counted twenty steps, then thirty and still didn’t come to a door of any kind.
The sun was out, she could feel its warmth on her face, the heat coming off the brick wall under her hand, but she had no idea how long she might have to walk to reach a place of business. She pulled out her phone and tried again for location services. Nothing. Tried again and got an audio response.
“This app is not responding.”
Okay. She should call someone. Not her parents, not her brother.
She asked her phone for the time and tried to estimate. If she was home, she would just walk to the subway. If she was home in New York chances are the app would work. There would be a coffee shop, a souvenir shop, bistro, restaurant, something, every ten feet. And people. There were always other people.
Maybe her sister-in-law. She would keep a secret if she asked her to. “Siri, call Connie.”
“Calling Connie.”
She listened to three rings before it went to voice mail.
“Hey, Connie. It’s Ava. Give me a call when you can. Thanks.” She ended the call and went to the next person she could think of. “Siri, call Hannah.”
Her pulse grew faster with every unanswered ring. Her next option was to call the police but she could just imagine her mother’s reaction to her getting dropped off at home in a police cruiser.
“Hey, pretty lady? Looks like you need some assistance.”
“No. I’m fine.” Her right hand tightened on the handle of her cane as she hung up and tried Connie again.
It seemed unnaturally quiet except for the footsteps getting closer. Where were all the people? The cars? The cabs?
“Hey, baby.” Closer this time. There was more talk, she couldn’t make out what they were saying, but heard the low rumble of laughter that followed. The feet, multiple feet, approached. And she was a sitting duck.