Heaven Sent Rain (28 page)

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Authors: Lauraine Snelling

BOOK: Heaven Sent Rain
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“What is the difference between a Jew and a Reformed Jew?” Dinah poured.

“Not sure. I really should read up on that.”

She settled into her chair and plucked a maple bar and a napkin.

Dinah Marie Taylor, you did not become a major-league entrepreneur by being timid. This is an excellent opportunity. Do it!
“I think it’s interesting that I thought you were freezing me out and you thought I was freezing you out. I still say you were treating me like ice when you were warm to everyone else.”

“I apologize. I didn’t know you.”

She was momentarily distracted not by his apology but by the size of his hands. They were burly. How could they perform such delicate surgeries? “And I apologize, too. I didn’t know you, either. Which brings me to my next question. This sounds very obsessive-compulsive of me, but I want to know more about you.”

Garret sobered, nodding. “I hear you. In this day and age, you can’t be too careful.”

“I don’t mean…like that.” Now how should she proceed?

“You mean more than what’s on the Websites.”

“I guess. And, please believe me, I trust you or I would not have allowed Jonah to go to your place. I mean, well, just more about you. You became very sober, in fact dark, when I asked if you had kids. I thought it was an innocent question.”

He pondered the maple-smeared stub, all that remained of his maple bar, popped it into his mouth, and chose another. “No, it wasn’t a bad question. It just hit me wrong. Sorry. As I said, I was married once.”

“I’m sorry, is this too personal?”

“No, it’s just…” He stared at the table a moment. “I was still in school and she was a middle-management drone in a department store. She put me through school; we lived on her salary. She worked her way up through the ranks and ended near the top of the management heap. When I graduated I worked for other vets awhile, and she was making twice what I did. More. Then I started this practice and made even less at first. Most of us—Sue, Amber, myself, the core people—have been with the clinic since the beginning.”

“Almost all of my employees have been with me from the start, too. They
are
the company.” Should she have another maple bar? Oh, why not. She took the next-to-last one.

“Exactly! The company takes care of us and we take care of the company.”

Dinah found herself nodding. They thought alike on that subject, at least.

“My sisters could see it better than I could. They claimed my wife was too controlling. A manipulator. Gloria ran me pretty much like she ran her job; she was the CEO. Boss. And I was the peon. I still insist that when I was just getting started, that was what I needed. Keep me focused. You may have noticed I tend to bounce off walls.”

Dinah grinned. But what was making her happiest was that he was finally opening up to her, becoming real, and it had nothing to do with walls.

“Sue says the clinic people were watching me change from cheerful and outgoing to sober and passive. Sue says Gloria’s power—I guess
power
is the word I want—started to wear me down, robbed me of my exuberance, to use her words.”

Dinah’s head was wagging. “Are you saying she wore the pants and you became subservient?”

Garret smiled. “Subservient! That’s the word. So one day an old friend of mine from Australia came to visit. He’s a psychologist. A good one. He was our houseguest for a week while he attended a seminar series. Saw the way we interacted, of course. Just before he left, he took me aside. I still remember that his first words were, ‘Now, look, mate. I know this isn’t my business, but I have to say this.’ And he laid out in plain English what he saw happening.”

“Did you believe him? Usually, a person refuses to believe criticism.”

“You’re right, but it got me thinking. So I asked around the clinic what they thought and got an earful. That’s when I started watching myself more objectively, you might say.”

“You figured out what she was doing to you and divorced her?”

“I wish it were that simple. By now she was a senior vice president in the main office. Probably aiming for the presidency, and she might get it, too. The big thorn was children. She didn’t want them. I did; it was the only thing I wanted from life. She didn’t want to hamper her upward climb, she said, but she was making enough money that she could have hired a full-time nanny. Shucks; hire a whole staff.”

“I see. Being denied the one thing you wanted; that’s so sad.”

He shrugged. “We just sort of drifted apart. Money means everything to her. I don’t care about it much. She doesn’t like pets; they’re dirty. She wanted me to sell the clinic and move to Chicago. Lots of little points; a pitchfork with many tines.” He shrugged. “Finally, it fell apart.”

“Surely you know that more than half of marriages these days end in divorce.”

His voice rose. “I don’t care how many marriages fail. This was
my
marriage. I let her down. I let God down. I made promises and didn’t keep them. I didn’t take control and spend the time on our relationship that it needed. I let the big bad powerful woman cow me. And now it’s too late.” He hopped to his feet and went to the sink to wash off his sticky fingers.

Dinah just sat, trying not to look too stunned, as wave after wave of realization washed over her. He was angry, maybe even fearful of powerful women. Naturally he would see Dinah as a strong, determined woman who built a successful company, maybe even in a strange way fear her. Was that too overblown? Probably. But any way you looked at it, he was emotionally crippled. If only he could see the reality, what the rest of the world sees.
If only.
The saddest words in the world.

And with a shocking jolt, Dinah extended that thought:
I, too, am emotionally crippled. Am I seeing the reality, what the rest of the world sees? Is there hope for him?

Is there hope for me?

M
onday morning, nothing seemed more appealing than to burrow back into bed, pull the covers over her head, and hope Jonah and Mutt would keep on sleeping. That no one from work would call to see where she was. Actually she wished the whole world would go away and leave her alone.

While sanity knew her company would survive a six-month-or-more hiatus on Scoparia, feelings of rage and fear about the forces trying to kill the product could not be ignored. Low down. High handed. Everything in the middle.

And poor Marcella. It was not her fault, but she was so ripped up. Dinah had talked with her for over an hour last week, trying to get her to see that she had done her job correctly. Marcella was supposed to submit the documentation; she had done so clearly and adequately. But Marcella was still upset. Irrationally upset. On top of all that, something was bothering April, but when Dinah asked, she said she wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. That meant it had to be serious, and that made sure that Dinah’s imagination took off and dreamed up all kinds of horrible things, like cancer and divorce and—

She crawled from the bed as silently as possible, not able to tolerate the crazy mind attack she was suffering from. After pulling on her robe, she opened her door to find Mutt sitting there looking up at her, her head cocked as if asking a question.

“If you need to go out, which I’m sure you do, I am not dressed for that. Let me get some sweats on, okay?” Mutt followed her into the bedroom as if not trusting her to stay up, or do what she’d said.

Feet in sheepskin slippers, she grabbed a jacket and out they went. She was halfway down the stairs when she remembered her key. Huffing a sigh, she kept on going. She’d have to do a Jonah and put her jacket in the door. That was better than having to trek around the building and come in the front. That would be mortifying.

Outside, jacket in the door, she let Mutt lead. The dog sniffed and nosed before finally doing her business and trotting back to the door. “You’d think spring could manage to stay around, wouldn’t you?”

Mutt looked over her shoulder but kept on going.

Jonah met them at the door. “She all right?”

“Yes, just wanted to go out and I thought you might sleep in.”

“Why? I have to get ready to go to Grandma Trudy’s.” He headed for the kitchen. “Come on, Mutt.”

Dinah stared after them.
You could have said thank you.

Her phone sang while she was dressing for work.

“Dinah, this is Trudy. I’m sorry, but I think Jonah better not come here today. I have been hacking and miserable. I don’t want him to catch this.”

“I hope you feel better right away. Can I bring you anything?”

“No, Claire made a drugstore run, so we’re stocked up on cold stuff. I know this gives you more pressure. I so love to have him come.”

They hung up and Dinah glared at the face in the mirror. This was just getting worse by the moment.

When she told Jonah, his lower lip stuck out far enough for a bird perch.

She felt even poutier than he. “Look, I’m sorry.”

“Why can’t I stay here? Mutt and me will be okay. We won’t go out but for her to potty. I promise.”

“You’re just too young, Jonah. Leaving you here alone is against the law.”

“Mr. Watson could come check on me.”

Dinah shook her head, reminding herself not to get rattled. “Maybe Grandma Trudy will be better by tomorrow.”

He slumped down in his chair, arms locked across his chest. “I hate your office. I want my mommy to come back.”

“Sorry Jonah, but I can’t do much about either. Get your coat and backpack. We leave in five minutes. We’re too late for Extraburger now.”

“I ate cereal. Can Mutt come?”

“No, Mutt cannot come. Move it.” She got her coat out and gathered her briefcase and bag. “Now, Jonah.”

“I can’t find my hat.”

“I’m sorry, but we have to leave. I have a conference call in twenty minutes.
Now
, Jonah!” The urge to snatch him by the jacket collar and push him ahead of her made her take a step back. Instead she snatched up his backpack. He snatched it back and humped it over his shoulder by one strap as they left. He slouched in the corner of the elevator, as far from her as he could get, arms locked again over his chest.

He had been so happy yesterday when Garret was here. The contrast was just another reminder of how inept she was.

Dinah tried to think of something to say, but her mind had gone into freefall, screaming accusations at her.
You can’t be a mother. Temper, temper. Failure. Poor kid. You are downright mean.

By the time they reached the office door, she could hardly drag herself through it.

“Uh-oh, what’s up?” April stared from one to the other.

“Trudy caught a cold so Jonah can’t go there and—”

“I can stay with Mutt.”

“Not when you’re seven. Guess you’ll have to visit us again,” April said brightly.

He glared at her and stomped down the hall to the break room, slamming the door behind him.

“Wow, the kid has a temper after all.” She looked to Dinah. “Don’t worry, he’ll get over it. Give him some time.”

“I really need to get him into counseling. Mr. Jensen sent me a list, but I have no idea how to go about finding which one is most competent. I called a few that had good online reviews, but they didn’t have availability for a new patient for months.” Dinah set her too-heavy briefcase on the desk.

April handed her the inevitable sheaf of orange slips. “Your duty calls. May I call around for you, see what I can find?”

“April, that would be wonderful. You know I’m totally at sea on this. Besides, I have that conference call in five minutes.”

“No, you don’t. They postponed. Called a couple of minutes ago. But you really need to talk with Marcella some more. She’s still pretty upset, talking about quitting.” April shook her head. “This is sure a sorry Monday. Did you have breakfast?”

“No. I was awake from four or so on. When I finally couldn’t stand the mind and the bed any longer, I tried to be careful but Mutt met me at the door. I can’t even have a cup of coffee in the morning by myself.”

“I hear you. Mothers feel that way a lot. Welcome to your new life.”

Dinah thought of checking on Jonah, but when she heard the television on in the board room, she entered her office instead. Today the rose on her desk stirred up another pool of resentment. She grabbed the bud vase and marched back to April’s desk.

“Look. Too much of my life is unknown or out of control already. Please don’t put any more flowers on my desk unless we know who they came from. Or on my coffee table at home, either!”

“They are meant to cheer you and thank you.”

“So you
do
know where they came from!”

“From all your employees. We have the greatest possible work situation here, and we’re grateful. We love our work and we love you. All of us. Even the night cleaning woman.”

“And so you levy a—”

“Voluntary donations to a jar. Whenever there’s enough in it, we get you flowers. You care about us, Dinah, and we care about you, and about what you’ve given us.”

“I don’t—I had no idea. I’m sorry I-I meant to thank you.” Stunned, she returned to her office. And left the door open.

A minute later she saw Jonah heading down the hall past her office. He must be going to talk to April.

She crossed to her chair and flopped into it. She just wanted a few minutes to herself. But her breastbone was tickling. Something felt off. Jonah had his backpack with him, that was what bothered her. Surely he wouldn’t leave after she told him he had to stay here.

“Jonah?” she called.

No answer.

On impulse she left her office. No one at April’s desk. She hurried down the hall.

She was relieved to find him in the break room, standing there with his head bowed, his hands in prayer position. “Thank You, Jesus. So please tell Mommy I’m coming to see her and I love her and I love You. Amen.” He knelt down, unzipped his backpack, and pulled out Dinah’s paring knife.

Why…?

His words and actions suddenly clicked together.


NOOOO!
” Dinah didn’t think; didn’t aim. She lunged forward so wildly she fell into him, knocking the knife from his hand and carrying them both tumbling against the television stand. The stand rocked back as she slammed against it; the TV set fell forward, hitting her shoulder on the way down. The audio blare quit but the crash reverberated.

How could he so casually do this!

How could she fail him so miserably that he would rather be dead than live with her?

The room filled up and echoed with her screaming and Jonah’s violent sobbing. No, it wasn’t Jonah sobbing; it was she. He was the one screaming. He flailed like a windmill, his little arms and legs surprisingly effective at pummeling her.

Then April was there, shouting at Jonah. Dinah realized she was in a tug-of-war with April, hanging on to Jonah as April was trying to pull him off her. She must let go of him. She could not.

April won the tussle because Dinah’s shoulder gave out.

Jonah…Dinah struggled to sitting.

April was sitting on the floor, tightly wrapped around him, holding his arms down, one leg thrown across his legs, arching her head aside because he was trying to head-butt her. She was cooing, speaking quietly. She began to rock back and forth, softly singing to him. Dinah knew the song, too. In her childhood she had sung it so many times. “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. Little ones…”

Jonah wailed, “I wanna see Mommy! Don’t! I wanna go to Mommy!” Finally, he melted against April, moaned for his mommy a few times, and apparently gave up.

Dinah butt-scooted over to April and held out her arms, drawing Jonah from April’s care into hers. She noticed rather abstractly that her own weeping had reduced itself to occasional wrenching sobs. “Oh, Jonah. My poor, poor little Jonah
.

April picked up the knife with two fingers. She wagged her head as she laid it behind her.

“April, he needs something now. Right now. Right this minute. Not when some counselor manages to fit in an appointment.”

April drew her knees up and draped her arms across them. “I agree. And this is beyond me. I never had anything like this. I don’t know…”

“Thank you.” It sounded lame, considering the circumstances, but it was all she could say. “Thank you, April, for being here for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Wait. What is this?
She watched April fighting to school her face. “We’ve worked together and been friends for too long; we know each other, and I can tell you are not being forthright with me now. What is it?”

“This is definitely not the time to discuss this, but there hasn’t been a good time.”


What is it?!
” Dinah was yelling. Even her voice was wildly out of control now.

“I’m sorry, Dinah. Joe has been promoted. He has taken over the company’s LA office. I have to resign.”

Dinah stared at her.
Not April. This is too much.
She wanted to ask
How can you do this to me?
Instead, she asked, “How long have you known?”

“Three days. With all that’s happened, it just never seemed like the right moment to tell you. Certainly this is not the right moment, either.”

“April, you can’t! You’re key! The company can’t function without you!”

“I won’t leave you in the lurch; I’ll train my replacement. Maybe Marcella would be a good one to take over.”

“Marcella can’t handle things going wrong. And she’s not a good people person, like you are. There is no replacement, so don’t talk about your replacement.”

Her personal life, and now her business life, all in shambles. It was all falling apart, all of it. What was there left?

Jonah was left; that’s what was left.

Dinah kissed the top of the tousled little head still cradled in her arms. “Come on, Jonah.” She gained her feet and was dismayed by how wobbly she felt. “April, I’m too upset to drive; I don’t trust myself to stay focused in traffic. Will you drive me, please?”

April stood up. “Frankly, I’m pretty upset myself. I’ll ask Randy. He’s not babysitting any experiments right now. Where to?”

“To Garret’s.”

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