Bring on the Rain (27 page)

“
Hello.” He smiled, putting
his sunglasses in his pocket.

“
Hello,” they both
said.

“
I wanted to catch you,
before you leave, or I have to play music, Miss Peyton.”

“
Call me Ruby.”

“
All right, Ruby. I’m
building a house, and I’ve been intending to see if you have time
to do some work for me.”

Ruby smiled joking, “I’m not much of a
carpenter.”

He grinned. “No, well— there are a few
things I had in mind but can’t seem to draw it out.”

“
What sort of
things?”

“
Something for the shower.
It’s a big double jet one and the dining area too. I’ve built with
cedar, and I was standing upstairs by the big windows, when the sun
came up—I could see in my mind, something amber and dark red maybe.
To fit the setting. If you could do it. I’d set up a time for you
to come by, walk around inside. You could probably see more
potential than I could.”

Ruby thought a moment. Then asked,
“Your uncles come around much?”

He looked confused a moment.

“
She used to date
Jude.”

Madeline got an elbow for blurting that
and a wide-eyed look from Ruby.

Jason shook his head laughing, “Jesus,
what is it with them? Don’t tell me, you have a story similar to
Madeline and Dad?”

“
Worse,” Ruby snorted
finally laughing.

He rubbed the back of his neck and
looked down a moment, then eyed her. “I’ll keep him away, whenever
you come by, okay?”

“
Did I say I was coming
by?”

He grinned, a slow white grin, titled
his head, and put his hands in his pockets. His blue eyes saying
please Ma’am.

Ruby looked at Madeline, rolled her
eyes, and sighed.

Madeline said, “Leave her a number
where she can reach you.”

He wrote it on his business card,
talked a while longer and sauntered away.

They watched him until he was swallowed
up in the crowd.

“
Something in the water,”
Ruby murmured.

“
No doubt.”

They looked at each other and
laughed.

Madeline stayed with Ruby and helped
while she and the students packed up when the day waned. They
grabbed a hot-dog and found a portable bathroom to use, freshened
up from a funky looking canteen Ruby brought that Madeline had
thought was a purse. With Ruby, you never knew.

Fresh and fed, they headed for the
Gazebo. It was at the edge of the park, painted white and
surrounded by benches. There were fairy lights strung up, and a
wooden dance floor to the side.

It was dusk. People were taking the
best seats. They spotted Karla and Brook seated in the front,
leaning their heads together, talking, and laughing. Brook had
changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, Karla had on a dark green
outfit - sure to attract attention. It had a low neck and displayed
her generous breasts, and a short, above-navel, hem. The pants were
skin tight and faux leather. Her long strawberry hair was down and
silky.

“
Karla looks like she mugged
a hooker.”

“
Oh, Ruby, she’s young. It’s
cool.”

Ruby shrugged. “I like the outfit, it’s
the small size, and the way she’s got the front yanked
down.”

Madeline snorted. ”Wait till you have
kids.”

“
I’ll be too old by then—to
see what my adopted kids wear.”

“
No you won’t. And you‘ll
have children.” Madeline hugged her. They found seating with a good
view of the band.

The Mayor spoke before several veterans
took the podium and a few of the town’s businessmen. A pool of
light spread inside the gazebo. They could all see whoever was in
it, but outside the circle, only the tiny white ones twinkled.
Madeline found herself relaxed and enjoying herself, in spite of
the lack of sleep.

All the official talking done, her eyes
were glued to Mitch who stepped inside the Gazebo after the suited
men departed. He stood at the mike with his Martin D18 acoustic
guitar. It was painted red, white, and blue. He talked a bit about
his pride in his county, his humble gratitude to all the men and
women who served it. Madeline felt as everyone else did, that he
spoke with a bone deep conviction, that he did think daily of those
who left the country to fight wars. He believed that no memorial in
Washington could replace the days like this, when names were spoken
and pride expressed. Real people’s faces were put to the names
engraved in stone.

It was moving, and the applause was
thunderous, along with whistles. Then everything hushed. He
strummed once. Jude, Coy, Jason, Doug, Lee, and two others
harmonized on an original ballad they had written for today, words
of heartfelt pride and honor of their fellow man.

After a few sniffles in the back,
Madeline and Ruby were enchanted by some of the young Coburn's. A
boy played the fiddle and a little girl a dulcimer to a rollicking
tune from the civil war era. She saw Mitch grinning, winking at the
boy who sawed the heck of the old piece, grinning all the
while.

Eventually Jude stepped up
and told everyone it was party time! Clusters of guys in the back
row started
hoo-hoo-hoo
and Ruby laughed, shaking her head, and pointing out the
elderly who were getting out of the way.

There was nothing like southern rock to
get people on the dance floor. Madeline saw Jenna and Tony leave,
and she pointed it out to Ruby.

“
You know she’d have a good
time if she was with us,” Ruby muttered sourly, “Just like the
little prick, to deprive her of it.”

They sat awhile longer, and the sheriff
and a few officers came by, checking to make sure everyone was
drinking nothing stronger than coffee or soda. They were easygoing
guys, joking back and forth with the rowdies. And waving off offers
to dance.

Ruby was asked to dance by the handsome
football coach. Madeline snorted thinking Ruby would trip over her
feet accepting. She was still laughing about it, when her gaze met
Mitch’s.

He changed guitars and was playing an
electric Fender Telecaster now. He smiled, holding her gaze for a
while, before a woman behind her tapped her on the shoulder and
asked a question about the school activities coming up.

Time moved by. The band switched off.
Madeline was watching them when Coy stepped up to the mike and
asked Brook to come and play.

Madeline grimaced, wondering how
nervous Brook might be. She saw Mitch hand Brook a shiny black
Fender precision bass and step down and walk around to the side off
the main stage, where he propped his foot on a bench and opened a
water, wiping his face with a bandana.

Brook looked as if he had handed her a
gold bar. The instrument was boss, even Madeline knew
that.

She glanced at Brook now, who would be
playing with Jason, Coy, and Lee. Brook waited for her cue, they
started playing a popular contemporary song, one that showcased the
base and obviously had been practiced by her. It came together
perfectly, and Madeline relaxed. She glanced down to see Karla
slumped in the chair, smiling and tapping both feet.

“
Hey, you.” Mitch walked
over. He carried a thermos and two cups. He offered her
one.

“
Hey, yourself.” She held
the cup while he poured, noting his blue slacks, and dark red polo
shirt. Red was a good color on him. He sat the thermos by his feet.
He had on black suede shoes. No cowboy boots tonight.

“
I like the car,” she said.
“I’m keeping it.”

“
Figured you would.” He
grinned smugly.

They sipped their coffee, watched their
children play music together, and she thought of Max. How could she
not? At this moment, Madeline felt the decisions she had made hit
home.

It had always been in her mind, but now
she felt the weight, and void of him, seeing how he should have
been a part of them all along. Max maybe should have been given the
chance to know Mitch and Jason—to know Brook too.

The song ended. Brook put down the
guitar, but leaned against the side still on the stage. Jason began
to sing. Madeline’s throat closed up, her nostrils quivered and she
knew any moment the tears were going to spill out. He was singing
about family, about roots and down home living, about the trials
and hardships, and how worth it they were, when you had the
strength of another hand, a familiar face, and
brotherhood.

Madeline was weeping, biting down on
her lip when Mitch noticed.

“
Madeline?” His tone was
soft, concerned.

She shook her head, blinked, tried to
look away, but couldn’t escape Jason’s singing. Her body shuddered
on an in drawn breath. Mitch apparently didn’t care who was
watching. He reached over and took her hand, rubbing it, weaving
his fingers through hers. Sitting near, he leaned closer with his
shoulder, looking down at their hands.

Jason saw them as he sang. Brook saw
them too. A tear tumbled down her face, because she’d let Brook see
her cry like that. In the twinkling shadows, Madeline’s face was
glittering with tears, and everyone on the stage saw Mitch holding
her hand.

Madeline realized she had to escape.
She wanted to run from the constriction of her heart, the hollow in
her stomach. She wanted to pull herself together—because falling
apart was not something you did in public, and not something she
wanted to do in front of Mitch.

Huskily Madeline whispered as she
untangled their hands and pulled his away, “I need a moment to...
excuse me.”

She got up deliberately, so as not to
draw attention and walked toward the darkness, past the benches and
people, toward the strip of grass before the parking
area.

She had left her purse lying in the
seat, so Madeline used her hands to wipe at her face. She stopped
far enough away and wrapped her arms around her middle, breathing
through her mouth and blindly looking ahead.

Her throat kept trying to close. She
focused on breathing; deeply in, and blowing out slowly, telling
herself she could mourn some other time, deal with it at home. She
made herself feel the material under her fingers, the soft night
wind, and the sunglasses on her head, everything touching her
outside; nothing on the inside.

Madeline fought back the flashes trying
to warp through her mind at lightning speed. The locked-away past,
the devastation, the sick weight of reality when she’d found
herself pregnant, motherless, fatherless, loveless. She fought the
voice of her aunt, telling her the options as they sat in hotel
room, where she lived for a year. And the choice she had made at
the hospital.

The baby was ill, she was on welfare,
and no insurance could cover what Max needed. She had no job, few
skills, and little strength, having lost weight and gained hardly
anything.

Her depression had been frightening,
haunting her with ghosts of her mother. How could she subject a
child to that? How could she raise him in the dark world of
hopeless fear? A sick child with a screwed up mother who lost track
of time, and lost the only thing she’d ever wanted or prayed
for.

She closed her eyes tight. Madeline
took the blows of guilt, shame, and weakness. She let them roll
over her and clamped her teeth hard and accepted the fact once
more, she’d given up her son.

“
Madeline?”

He was standing behind her. Madeline
could feel him; smell his fresh cool cologne, mingled with coffee.
If he lifted his hand, he could touch her. But if she let him,
right now, she would fall apart.

With all the strength she had Madeline
said, “I’m fine. Wow… Jason sure has a way with a song, doesn’t he?
Moves a person…with that voice of his.”

Mitch replied absently, and she knew he
was merely playing along, because anyone could read her body
language, the quiver in her voice. “Yeah,” he murmured, “You should
see him in church. Don’t think there’s a dry eye in the place when
he sings.”

She drew in a long breath, then
another. Her fingers slowly let go of her dress. Her knuckles went
from white to pink again. Madeline relaxed her arms. She wiped her
face, raised her chin, and blew out a breath before turning toward
him with a false smile.

His own smile was small.

“
I hear them playing Texas
swing,” Madeline said with fake brightness. “I’ve never heard them
play that.”

He fell in step beside her as she
walked toward the crowd. “We do, sometimes.” His tone was just as
fake.

“
Got any of coffee
left?”

“
Sure, I’ve got to play a
few more, help yourself.”

She took her chair again, let him look
at her silently a moment, before he went back on stage.

Brook came down and sat beside her,
staring at her a long time. Madeline poured a coffee and watched
the stage.

“
Mom, what’s
wrong?”

“
Nothing. It was a sad
song.”