When It Rains: The Umbrella Collection (5 page)

Oh, and he is the asshole that decided to drink more than his body weight at O’Reilly’s
bar and chose to get behind the wheel and slam that Big Bird of a truck into the side of my parents car killing them both instantly.  That’s the only good thing about it.  They didn’t suffer at all.  My life has been consumed by their death with every thought inevitably ending with something to do with them.  They left my life when I was 8 years old and there is a gaping hole where they are supposed to be standing.  I went to multiple therapists to help me come to terms with what happened, but the hole I have has never been able to be filled.  Maybe, they never will be.   Or maybe, I’ll find a way to putty it, so it will be superficially repaired. 

It all happened one night when they were invited out to dinner at Giovanni’s by Dad’s friend Jack Garrison and his wife Miranda.
  My Mom didn’t like him. I overheard Mom and Dad having a disagreement on multiple occasions about him coming over or Dad spending time with him. She didn’t trust him. I remember Mom being nice to practically everyone.  The only person I saw her being standoffish with was Mr. Garrison.  She liked Miranda, though, but had said that she felt there was something fishy about their relationship. 

The day that it happened I heard mom and dad having a discussion. “Jack invited us?” Mom asked

“Yes,” Dad said back.

“I don’t like him.”

“Here we go again.”

“Davey, you know how I feel about him.  I don’t trust him at all and I don’t like how he treats Miranda, like she is his servant or something.”

“Can you just push that a
side for one night?  One night, I’m asking you to do this for me.  Let’s just go and enjoy ourselves.   If you start feeling uncomfortable then we can leave.  Deal?”

Mom agreed to go.  L
ater that night as she was getting ready and I was sitting on her bed reading a book about a wizard, watching as she was in the bathroom putting on her makeup.  She stood in a red colored dress with her perfectly manicured hair flowing down her back. 

“Mom, why do you have to go tonight?”

“Mr. Garrison invited us and we will be gone for a little bit.  You and Pops are going to have fun.  He said something about popcorn and movies.”

“But, you said you didn’t want to go,” as these words left my mouth she turned her head in my direction.

“Has someone been eavesdropping again?”

“Maybe,” I said with the look of guilt written on my face.

“What did I tell you about doing that?”

“If you don’t want people listening to your conversations then don’t listen to theirs,” I repeated her lecture verbatim with a mocking tone.

“Exactly.”

I watched her closely as she put mascara onto her long brown eyelashes and applied her lip gloss one more time.
  “When can I wear makeup, Mommy?”

“When you are older?”

“How old?”

“30”

“Mom! That’s too old.”  I said with a whiny intonation. 

“Hey, I am well beyond thirty, so watch your mouth.”

“Seriously, Mom, when?”

“Maybe, when you are 13.
  We will see,” she said as she came over to me and sat on the edge of the bed as she put on her black high heels, “Is that better than 30?”

“Yeah, I guess.” and Dad walked through the door.
  He wore a pair of black pants and a bright yellow shirt.

“Ready, Joyce?
  We’re going to be late.”

 
“Yeah, just one second,” she yelled from the closet that she just went into to retrieve her jacket.

“Dad, you look like a bumblebee.
” I giggled as he made his way to the bed to tickle me.

“A bumblebee,
eh?  I’ll show you a bumblebee.  Buzz, Buzz, Buzz,” he said as he took his pointer finger and pretended it was a stinger and happily impersonated a bee.

“Hahaha
. Mom! Mommy tell Daddy to stop!” I yelled through the short pauses in my laughter.

“Dave, stop,” she said as she walked out the closet, “Go change your shirt.
  You look like a bee.”

“See, Dad, I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled as he pulled that shirt off and went to find another one.  I heard a noise coming from outside the window and it was all too familiar.  I opened the blinds with my fingers and gasped.  I spun around and yelled in my mom’s direction and begged her not to go out tonight.  She came and stood next to me and repeated the same motions I did. 

“It’s only drizzling.
  We will be fine and be back before you know it,” she said. Dad came out of the closet once more after trying on a few different shirts that got a negative response from Mom.  This time he was wearing a black and gray sweater.

“How’s this one?” he asked with his arms spread out from his sides.
  Then, his eyes met mine and he noticed the panic strung across my face, “Is it raining?” he asked as his eyes went up to Mom’s.

“Yes,” she answered.  T
hen bent down and looked at me in my eyes that were building with liquid inside about to burst, “I promise that when I get home I’ll climb into bed with you and we will have a slumber party.  Pops will be here with you and everything will be good.  Okay?”

“Okay,”
 I mumbled, trying to hold back the tears. 

“Now, go downstairs because if I smell correctly, Pops is making his apple pie for you, too.”

“Yes!” and I ran down the steps missing that all annoying third step and stopped at the downstairs hallway closet and grabbed two umbrellas, a white one for Mom and a black one for Dad.  I placed them at the front door, so they would grab them on their way out.  I then spun around and headed for the living room where I found Pops sitting watching some cop show on TV.

“Hey Pops, whatcha watchin’?”
  I asked as I plopped myself down beside him.

“Street Shooter’.
  It isn’t that bad,” he replied as he put his arm around my head and placed it on the other side.

“Dad watches this.
  So, where’s the pie?”

“Smelled it, did you? It should be done in fifteen minutes or so.
  Let’s find something else on TV you can watch,” he picked up the remote and started flipping through the channels searching for a show my eyes could see.

I heard the sounds of my parents walking down the stairs and the vapors of perfume and cologne danced in the air all the way to where I sat.
  Dad grabbed his black jacket from the closet and mom came over to me.

“Alright, Nor.
  We will be back before you know it.  Be good,” she said and kissed me on my forehead leaving remnants of her lip gloss behind.  “See you, Pops,” and she kissed him goodbye, also.

I got up on my knees to sit up and look over the back of the couch.
  They looked nice all dressed up.  Dad helped Mom with her coat and they headed towards the door.

“See ya, kiddo,”
 Dad yelled to me.

“Don’t forget…,”
 I yelled back.

“The umbrellas!” the three of them said all together like a chorus.

“Just making sure,” I shyly muttered. I guess they knew the spiel by now.

“Love you, sweetie,” Mom yelled while she stepped outside opening up her white umbrella as soon as she walked through the door.
  Dad stepped right behind her and closed the door.

I turned to Pops and before I could say anything he said, “They will be fine.”

The front door opened once more and Dad poked his head in, “Psst.  Hey Nora.”

“Yeah?”

“I love you,” he spoke with a wide smile mounted on his face.

“Love you, too, Dad,” and they were gone.
 

 
That was the last time I felt my Mom kiss me goodbye and that was the last time I heard my Dad’s voice.  From what I have found out by Jack and Miranda, they got to the restaurant the same time they did and had a good time.  Mom ate a Chicken Caesar salad and I can bet she removed the croutons.  She hated those things.  Dad ate a steak, as usual, a true carnivore that man was.  They talked and laughed inside, but outside the weather went from a sprinkle to a downpour.  Once they were finished, they kept waiting for a break in the rain to leave.  Mom told them of the promise that she vowed to me and she was eager to keep up her end of the bargain.  While they stood underneath the awning, there was a break and they decided to hit the road.  Dad was driving and Mom sat in the passenger seat.  The Garrison’s were right behind them being that they lived in the same neighborhood as us.  They said half way home the rain started to come down hard again.  Their speed slowed down to almost a crawl and when they got to the light at the intersection at Mason Street, they stopped at the red light.  Jack said the rain held up a little where they were able to see in front of them now.  All of a sudden, he saw a yellow truck slide and slams into Mom’s side of the car.  After the collision, the truck ended up in the middle of the sidewalk on the other side of the street.  My parents, after spinning around a few times landed in the middle of the intersection.  The car was mangled, with its pieces barely holding together.  There was smoke exiting the vehicle as the Garrison’s ran over to them.  Miranda checked my Mom and Jack checked my Dad, they were both gone.  A small fire ignited in the engine and at that same moment the rain began to pour again.  Miranda looked back at the yellow pickup truck that caused this and she saw a man stumble out of the truck and he sat down on the curb getting soaked by the rain.  While Jack called the police, she ran over to him and tried to talk to him, but he was made no sense and stumbled over his words.  She thought he might have hit his head or was internally hurt, but as the blood tests came back later, he was just incredibly intoxicated.  The police came, along with a slew of ambulances, to interview the Garrison’s and put the driver into the back of the cop car. 

When I awoke the next morning, I noticed Mom wasn’t in bed with me.
  I got up out of bed and first checked their bedroom, but it was empty.  I, then stumbled downstairs, still groggy, and called out for my Mom, but I got no response from her.  Pops answered instead.  He was sitting out on the front porch, rocking back and forth in his rocking chair, holding a cup of coffee and staring blankly into the yard.  I opened the screen door to walk out and Pops turned to me.

“Morning,” he said as he looked over to me perhaps wondering if I was fully awake or not, “ I know you just woke up, but we need to talk about something,” his eyes were bloodshot; I noticed as I walked passed him and sat in the rocker next to his.
 

“Where are Mom and Dad at?” I asked, but I had a strong feeling that something happened last night that I wasn’t aware of and that’s what he needed to talk to me about.

“Something happened last night.  They were in an accident.”

“Are they okay?” I said as I stared at him with my heart beating fast.

His face dropped down and he stared at the half empty coffee mug that he held in his hands.  When he raised his head up again he took a deep breath in and uttered, “No, sweetheart.  They aren’t.  They passed away.”

There was a sudden pain in my chest and a numbing feeling enveloped my body.
  The tears that were filling up my eyes began streaming down my face slowly and consistently.  I rested my head on the back of the rocker and said “Okay.”  I didn’t ask any questions.  I didn’t want to know any details.  I just wanted my parents back.  I pushed most of my feelings at that time deep down into my internal dudgeon.  Seldom, does their presence appear, but when it does it sidelines me and breaks me to pieces. 

Pops reached over and grabbed my arm to pull me over to his rocker.
  I sat on his lap with my body curled in a ball and head rested on his shoulder and cried myself to sleep as he rocked me back and forth silently; surrounded by only the sounds of my whimpering and his foot tapping as he pushed off the wood of the porch.

After that moment, time seemed to speed up.
  It never slowed down for me to catch my breath for a second.  The house was filled with people; each one came in and kissed me on my forehead and hugging me.  Some of them I didn’t know, and haven’t seen since.  I felt awkward and out in the open naked for all to see. Everyone seemed to stare at me with their sad eyes drenching me.  I wanted my family to stand around me and shield me from the others.

I went to their service at the old St. Patrick’s church at the end of our street, but I don’t remember much of anything.
  I do remember the hymn books that sat in front of me.  They had dirty fingerprints on them that were a tinge of red and I could have sworn I saw a pair of Nike’s hanging out the end of the priest’s robes.  That is as far up as my eye level went.  My head was bowed for the whole service.  Each time I would contemplate raising it up a bit, I would make eye contact with another person and retract back to where it was previously.  Afterwards, we went back to the house.  I ran up the steps and forgot about the third step and the screech reflected off each wall making everyone cringe a little.  I slammed my door shut, flew into bed and pulled the blanket up over my head hoping that it would shield me, so I didn’t absorb any more pain.  Alex came up and sat on the edge of my bed, placing his hand on my foot.