Raising Rain (33 page)

An awkward silence fell as all eyes went to Rain.

“Poor Rain,” Mare said. “You must have been seriously confused growing up.”

Bebe stood. “It's getting late. We should call it a night so we can get to Toasties before it gets crowded tomorrow.” She began to gather empty popcorn bowls.

When all the bowls with stray popcorn kernels and empty glasses were stacked on the kitchen counter, they all said good night and headed for their rooms. Before Bebe went to sleep, she called Neil to check in and ask if he'd heard from Scotty. He hadn't, but he reminded her that this was probably field week, and he probably didn't have much time to himself. Not to worry. She blew him a kiss and said good night.

T
he next morning as they went out to load into the car, Mare saw the Marine emblem on the back of Bebe's Highlander and paused. She stood frowning, and Bebe could see the wheels turning in her head.

“Get in, Mare,” Bebe told her. “There's no way we'll all fit into your Prius. Think of it as supporting Scotty.”

Mare gave an exaggerated sigh and piled into the car. They managed to snag a table at Toasties during a lull in the Saturday morning rush, and were out sightseeing an hour later. Jude seemed to be holding up well, but she chose to rest in the car when they went into some shops on Cannery Row. They offered to drop her back at the house, or to have someone stay with her, but she refused. She reclined her seat back and relaxed in the sun-warmed interior.

The sun bounced brilliantly off the water, and the boats left their signatures on the bay in white trails of foam. The street performers played exotic instruments and the seagulls cried as they dove for fish on the water and for stray food by the restaurant tables. Kelp swayed and danced in the current with an occasional sea otter breaking the surface to crack a clam on its belly.

It was a glorious day, and Bebe wished they were there under different circumstances. Some of the shops were decorated for Christmas and were playing carols. She dropped back behind Mare and Toni to walk with Rain, who tended to lag behind. Bebe noticed that her face appeared strained, and she wondered if Rain worried about her mother waiting alone in the car. Even though she'd insisted that they go on without her, it wouldn't stop them from feeling guilty for having fun.

They dropped in at the Ghirardelli shop for dark chocolate to enjoy after dinner that night. Toni bought a bottle of port to go with it, and also picked up a golf shirt for Lawrence at the Pebble Beach Shop. Mare bought aromatherapy candles and handmade soap, and Bebe chose a Christmas ornament. Rain was the only one who came back empty-handed.

They spent time browsing in a bookstore until Rain said she wanted to go. Bebe went looking for Toni. Oddly, she found her turning a stack of books face-front on the display in the romance section, and muttering to herself. Bebe watched her tap them neatly into place and step back with her hands on her hips, smiling to herself. Bebe asked her what she was doing and Toni seemed startled and a bit embarrassed. Bebe shook her head and motioned for her to hurry up.

On their way back to the car, Mare paused outside of a shop window displaying exquisite infant's and children's clothes. “That would look adorable on Sammy,” she said, going into the store. Toni pointed out an adorable layette in the window, and Bebe looked over to find Rain standing in front of the jewelry store next door, turned with her back to them.

A moment later, Mare was out on the sidewalk again. “Sixty dollars for a sundress. It's not even organic!” she said with disgust.

They found Jude asleep in the front seat of the car, and she startled awake when Bebe unlocked the doors. She looked so vulnerable and fearful at that moment, that Bebe felt an unexpected sadness. She'd rarely seen Jude with her defenses down. When she thought of it, there had really only been one other time.

February 1, 1970

 

The phone rang again, but this time it jangled until Bebe slammed her biology book shut and came out of her bedroom to answer it. Who keeps calling, she wondered?

Jude grabbed the phone from the wall, just as Bebe came up behind her.

“Listen,” Jude spit out angrily to the caller. “I said don't call me anymore. Just leave me alone. I can't help you.”

Bebe circled around to read Jude's face. Whatever was said next made Jude blanch. Her face melted into fear and despair and tears welled in her eyes. “Leave me alone,” without much resolve.

“Hang up,” Bebe whispered fiercely. Jude stood pale and appeared unable to disconnect from the conversation. Bebe took the phone out of her hands and hung it up.

“Who was that, Jude?” Bebe asked. “Why didn't you just hang up?”

Jude looked at her as though seeing her for the first time. She wiped away tears without meeting Bebe's eyes and grabbed her coat. The phone rang again, and Jude said, “Don't answer it.” The front door slammed behind her on the third ring, and Bebe answered.

“Who is this?” she demanded.

“Lemme ta . . . talk to Judy,” the woman slurred. Bebe could almost smell the liquor through the phone lines.

“She's not here.”

“Judy Rasssmusss. Rassmuss . . . My Judy. Lil' slut hung up on me. Sshe can't hang up on her m . . . mother.”

“She's gone now. She just left.”

The woman swore. “Tell her . . . you tell her I'm coming ov . . . over right now to pick'er up. You, you t . . . tell her sshe can't run away. She's jus' like me. I know what she's doin'. Sshe's no good and sshe's gonna turn out jus' like m . . . me.”

Bebe said “Good-bye,” cutting off the woman mid-slur, and hung up the phone.

They never spoke of the incident, and Jude never knew that Bebe talked to her mother. Jude acted as though it never happened. She didn't even come home that night, but called and told Mare, that she was staying with a friend.

Bebe noticed that after that phone call, she only threw herself harder into volunteering at the Women's Center and stepped up the number of rallies she attended until Bebe wondered whether it was affecting her grades. She began hanging out with older, more activist students, and one in particular, who sometimes made Bebe uncomfortable in her own house. It was no surprise that Jude got in over her head.

On their way back to the house, they took the 17-Mile Drive and ogled the views and expensive estates. At home, they prepared an oriental salad for lunch, and then reclined in the sunroom. The sunshine warmed them through the glass, and the pounding of the surf below made Bebe's eyes droopy. Jude retired to her room, and Rain went to check on her.

“I was thinking of taking a walk down to the beach,” Mare said, “but I don't think I'd make it back up the stairs. I might find a movie to watch and fall asleep on the couch.”

Toni stretched and yawned on the chaise lounge, kicking off her shoes. “I'm not moving from here.” Then she added dreamily as she curled up, “Don't think I could if I had to.”

Bebe fell asleep in the other chaise lounge, and woke later to a silent, darkening house. Her watch said four o'clock, and the sun was sinking fast. The pounding of the surf on the rocks below sounded amplified in the quiet, and she stepped to the glass to enjoy the view. A thin line of light hovered above the distant horizon. A movement on the beach below in the dusk drew her attention.

A lone woman walked along with her hands in her pockets. After
a moment, she stopped and turned to face the surf, with her shoulderlength hair blowing wildly around her face. She crossed her arms, hugging her middle, bending slightly as though she were ill. Bebe thought she recognized Rain's sweater, but it could be someone from one of the other homes nearby, and she was too far away to be certain. As she watched, the woman sat heavily onto the sand and laid her head on her arms across her knees. Then, she curled her arms protectively over her head, as though expecting a blow. She sat for so long, mindless of the surf that climbed the rocks or the tide that rose higher and grabbed at the sand at her feet, that Bebe felt a sense of urgency.

Just as Bebe was stepping outside on the patio to shout to her, the woman stood and headed back toward the stairs. Bebe saw clearly that it was Rain. Rain wiped her eyes on the inside of her sweater, climbing the steps slowly. Bebe stepped back out of view and watched her. Her heart broke for her, but she felt that Rain had deliberately distanced herself from them this weekend, and didn't know whether she should speak to her. Was she grieving for her mother, or was there something else? For Hayden, perhaps, and the way life used to be? Then she recalled how Rain turned away from them in front of the baby shop. Could it be that she'd gotten bad news from the doctor?

Rain lay in bed and wondered how she would go about the rest of her life. Far below, the surf pounded against the rocks like fate relentlessly trampling the best-laid plans.

Babies were everywhere. There was no avoiding them. All morning, strollers bumped her on the sidewalk. Babies cried in the restaurant. Couples handed their offspring to grandparents happy to share the load, and grateful for a chance just to hold them. Their smiling reflections taunted her in the shop windows when she turned away searching for distraction.

She heard the others out in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner. No one commented when she said she was turning in early, although
she was aware that they discreetly exchanged glances. Perhaps they thought she was mourning for her mother, and that was part of it.

Rain dug in her suitcase for a syringe and rolled up the leg of her pajamas. Her mother was fading. Just as things were getting better between them, she was losing her. Rain took the cap off the needle, flicked the vial, and depressed the plunger to dispense an air bubble. Maybe that was the catalyst—knowing they didn't have much time left together made them stop pushing against each other. Wincing, she injected the drug and rubbed the spot with her thumb.

She got up and tiptoed down the hall to her mother's room, quietly pushing open the door. Jude lay on her side, breathing steadily. The skin on her face sagged in sleep against her bones. She little resembled the parent of Rain's youth, and perhaps that was a good thing. Rain closed the door again and went back to her room.