Chapter 14
A hard rain. Silver sheets of water danced in the air across the parking lot. The rain was so loud Chunk and I had to nearly yell to hear each other over it. We were standing under the awning of the Scar's administrative building, waiting to make the mad dash to our cars.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“You sure? You had a hard one today.”
“We both did.”
He shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I mean it. Thanks.”
“Any time,” he said. “You take care now.”
And then we were off, running for our cars. By the time I reached mine I was soaked to the bone. Ordinarily, it took me fifteen minutes to drive home from the Scar, but that night it took me almost two hours the rain was so bad.
Billy was asleep on the couch, so I went to check on Connie. I opened her door quietly and poked my head in. She looked like she was sleeping, face mashed into her pillow, arm thrown heavily over her stuffed animals, but almost as soon as I looked in on her, she poked her head up, wide awake.
“Mommy?”
“Hey baby. What are you doing awake?”
She rubbed her eyes as she sat up on the edge of the bed. I knelt down in front of her.
“I heard your car.”
All I heard was the rain pounding on the roof. “You did?”
She nodded.
“What's wrong? Can't sleep?”
She shook her head. Poor thing was so exhausted she could barely hold her head up, and I knew that she'd been waiting up for me.
“Are you okay, Connie?”
“I wore my mask all day today, Mommy.”
“Oh baby.” I brushed the hair out of her face. “I'm sorry I yelled at you yesterday.”
Connie yawned. “I miss you, Mommy.”
“I miss you too, baby. I miss you very much.”
“Are you going to be here for my birthday?”
“You bet I am. We're going to have a party for you and everything.”
“Is June going to come?”
June was her friend, one of the only ones left. “You betcha,” I said. “Her mommy said it was okay, so she's coming.”
“Who else?”
“Well, it's going to be kind of small. Mr. and Mrs. Avery from next door will be there, and June and her mommy, and me and Daddy, and your Uncle Chunk, too.”
“Uncle Chunk's funny,” she said.
“Yeah, he's a character. Is there anything you want for your birthday?”
The words were out of me before I could stop them. I was talking like everything was normal, like if she wanted something I could actually go out and buy it.
She looked at me with sudden seriousness and nodded.
“What is it, baby?”
“I want a chocolate cake, Mommy. Can you make me one? Please.”
I didn't answer for a long moment because I was too stunned, thinking about what Carmenita Jaramillo had told me, that smiling mummy in her rocking chair. Finally, weakly, distantly, I mumbled, “Chocolate cake?”
She climbed up to her knees, hands churched together in front of her like she was praying, only her face was one huge hopeful smile.
I couldn't say no. I wasn't that strong.
She threw her arm around me and squeezed me, right on the bruise on my ribs. I winced in pain, but I didn't try to peel her off. I wouldn't have done that for the world because it felt so good. My baby felt so good in my arms.
Billy was awake. He leaned against the wall in the dark hallway, with his arms over his chest.
“Hey,” I whispered.
He kissed me. “Welcome home.”
“Good to be home.”
We walked out to the living room. I went to the kitchen for a glass of water and, when I came back, we went out to the back porch and sat in a pair of green lawn chairs-a wedding gift from Billy's mom and his step dad. We watched the storm thrash the tops of the trees down by the creek.
“We needed this rain,” he said. There was a long pause before he said, “Connie and I went down by the creek today.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. It's down a couple of feet. Grass is looking dry, too.”
“Mmm.”
I closed my eyes and listened to the wind, to the pounding rush of the rain. I smelled the air around me. It had come alive with the storm. When I opened them, lightning flashed. In the sudden burst of light I saw the whole of our lower property sloping down from the house.
“It's beautiful, Billy.”
“Yeah.”
We hadn't had a quiet moment like that in a long while. A moment where we both knew how lucky we were, all things considered.
He brushed his hand against mine. I took it, and we held hands.
“Are you gonna do your yoga tonight?”
“No. Too tired. I think I bruised my side pretty bad today.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He asked me how, and I told him. “Let me see,” he asked.
I leaned forward and pulled up the left side of my t-shirt, past my bra. “Can you see it?”
He frowned. Reached out and touched it with a finger. “It looks bad.”
“Feels bad, too.” I tried to make it a joke, but he didn't laugh. He got up and went to the back door. “Where are you going?” I asked.
“Back in a sec.”
When he returned, he had some ice cubes wrapped in a towel.
“We had ice cubes? Where did you get ice cubes?”
“This may sting a little,” he said, and put the ice pack up to my ribs. I flinched. The fingertips of his freehand glided slowly up and down my arm, making me shiver. “I heard you talking to Connie.”
I flinched again as he touched another tender spot.
“Sorry.” Then, a moment later, he said, “You promised her a chocolate cake.” There was no judgment in his voice. “That's gonna be kind of hard to put together, don't you think?”
“Maybe.” I pulled away from the ice and pulled my shirt down.
He looked at me.
“Sorry. That's starting to sting.”
“You need to keep ice on it.”
“I will. Later.”
He put the ice pack down on the floor between us. “So how are you gonna get the stuff for a chocolate cake?”
