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Authors: A. K. Hartline

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BOOK: The Rain Began to Fall
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But this morning,
he had awoken with a sinking feeling in his stomach, and he had called her as
soon as possible, begging her to meet with him this evening. Leigh’s anger did
not subside through the night, however. After leaving him on the sidewalk, she
had gone straight to her room. There, lying on her bed, she thought long and
hard about the events of the exciting, tumultuous day long into the night. She
was surprised with herself, and somewhat pleased, that she had not allowed him
to steam roll her. Something inside of her had clicked, and the look on his
face had been priceless! 
But why had he gone so far over the line?
When
had he assumed it was okay to unload on me like that
? she
wondered. She knew if they were going to make it from here, some things had to
change. There was no way she would put up with that kind of behavior when they
were married.

lt was 2 am when
she had finally fallen asleep, and she was awakened by her phone ringing at 10
am. It was Mindy calling about their planned trip to the bridal store. Leigh
had entirely forgotten about it, but not that Mindy had blabbed to Gene about
where she was last night. She begged off, and they rescheduled for the
following Saturday. Gene had called soon after, and she’d promptly hung up on
him. But on the second call, he was pleading intensely, and she listened.

“Leigh, I’m sorry,
okay?” he had begged. “I was just shocked, thrown a curve ball, swing and a
miss.” This was greeted with silence from Leigh.

“Are you there?”
he asked.

“I’m here,” she
responded flatly.

“So what do I have
to do?”

“If you have to
ask…” she replied, sighing heavily.

In the end, he had
said enough – which with him, as always, was a lot -   to convince
her, and that’s why she was here. And she was aware that she was not
entirely
innocent. Although nothing of consequence had happened between her and Kyle, it
was only because of interruptions. She knew that, in her current state of
vulnerability - for whatever reason that was; she was still working on it - a
kiss, at least, could and would happen if she spent any more time alone with
him. She also understood that, given her weakness for him, she would have to
avoid Kyle from this point forward, no matter what it took, if she was going to
make her relationship with Gene work. She had put considerable thought into her
feelings last night and today, and she had decided she was not going to throw
away all she and Gene had been, and were, over her passing infatuation with
Kyle or Gene’s explosion. But Gene had to change, and she felt she owed him the
chance to prove that he could. It was something they could work out, he had
said earlier today, and she sincerely believed that was possible.

He carried the
chutes of champagne over to the couch and sat them on the coffee table, then
took a seat beside her. He knew the secret to getting back in the graces of a
woman, and today, he had opened his wallet at Jenkins Jewelry and bought it; a
lovely pair of diamond earrings.

He folded one leg
under the other, and turned to face her. She looked at the chute of champagne,
then over at Gene, who had lifted his and was now sipping. He pointed at her
glass.

 

“Drink up, Leigh,”
he said. “It’s Dom Perignon. Only the best for you darling.” He watched her
face closely, looking for some sign that the ice was melting. She picked up her
glass.

“Thank you,” she
responded. She took a sip. She wasn’t a big fan of champagne (
and didn’t he
know that
?), but she could stand it as he had gone to the trouble and
expense. He placed his glass on the table and rubbed his hands together.

“Leigh, I don’t
want this to sound like a cliché’, but the job has been tough lately,” he began.
“You know about the Roberson case! It’s got me a little sideways.” She did not
respond, so he continued. “I guess my fuse is a bit short, but it’s important,
you know?” He paused, hoping for an acknowledgment, but there was still no
reaction from her. He shifted on the couch, then rose and walked over to the
mantle, leaning on it and putting a hand to his forehead.

“Okay,” she
finally said. He turned and faced her like an eager puppy. “I understand that.
But the way you were talking down to me last night, it’s not the first time
it’s happened. I don’t know ...”

“Honey, I didn’t
mean to…” he interrupted, but she held up her hand.
The lawyer in him never
stops
, she thought with exasperation.

“Let me finish,”
she demanded.

“Sorry,” he
replied quickly, zipping his lip with his thumb and index finger.

“Okay,” she
continued. “I know I didn’t tell you where I was going, but that was no excuse
for you to go into a rage on me in public!” He winced. He wanted badly to
respond, his mouth actually quivering from the pressure of the dammed up words
that so badly needed to spill forth.

“Uh, uh, uh,” she
admonished, wagging her finger at him. “You’ll get your chance at rebuttal in a
moment, counselor.” He folded his arms and settled down.

“I’ve thought
about it, and I’ve got to tell you,” she continued, “there’s no way I can put
up with that kind of attitude. I
will
make mistakes, and so will
you
,
but we have to treat each other with respect, or our marriage is going to be
miserable. Or not happen at all. Do you understand?”

He dropped his
eyes, and then looked back up at her.

“Yes, I do Leigh.
I know I was wrong, and I’m sorry, as I’ve told you all day,” he replied. He
paused for a moment, his eyes beseeching her. Then he looked at her with a
confused, anxious expression. “But I was just blown away that you were there
watching… participating in those ....I don’t understand
why
you were
there!”

“We’ve already
gone over that, Gene,” she sighed.

“It still makes no
sense to me. It’s not your style at all.”
Not these days anyway
, he
thought. But it had been a few years ago, and the return of that Leigh was what
he feared.

“And what exactly
is
my style?” she inquired.

“Well, for
starters, you don’t normally, as a rule – although obviously here was an
exception - hang out with the… blue collar crowd,” he replied. “And secondly,
that skirt didn’t leave much to the imagination. When was the last time you
wore that anyway? In college?”

She looked at him
through narrowed eyes.

“It still
fits
,” she replied. “How did I look?”

“Hot as ever,” he
responded. “But you weren’t wearing it for me, were you?”

Touché
. She
deserved that, but she knew he was wiggling out here. Maybe her flirting with
Kyle had been a bit out of line for an engaged woman, but he knew nothing about
it, just that she hadn’t communicated where she was going. That aside, they
were still going to be married, and Gene’s increasingly dominant character had
to be dealt with. If she folded here, he wouldn’t learn or change a thing.

“I wore it because
I
can
,” she replied, standing, “because I’m not sixteen and needing my
daddy’s approval.” She picked up her pocketbook.

“What are you
doing?”

“I’m leaving,” she
responded coldly. “This was a mistake. Big surprise.” She turned her back and
went toward the door.

“Leigh wait!” he
implored. This was so not going right, not at all the way he had planned. He
took the gift package off the mantle and walked toward the couch. She stopped
and looked back at him expectantly.

“What?”

“I was wrong,
period, no excuses,” he said. “I promise to change, okay?” He sat down on the
sofa and patted the cushion beside him. “Please come over and sit down.”

She stared at him,
unbelieving.

“Do you mean
that?”

“With all of my
heart.”

She was skeptical,
but at least he was trying.

“Okay,” she said
finally, walking slowly toward him. “But no more defense arguments, alright?”

“Agreed.”

She sat beside
him, but he kept the gift hidden by his side.

“Before I do this,
I want you to know how much I love you, and how sincere I am about giving you
the respect and attention you deserve,” he said.  He put his hand on top
of hers. She didn’t resist the move, and he was relieved.

“I didn’t mean to
get that angry, or treat you badly,” he continued. “I hope you understand. The
case is stressful, and I guess it’s making me edgy lately.”

“I do understand
that, Gene,” she replied. “You’re just your father’s son, right?” She grinned,
and he, at first, didn’t realize she was being playful; but then he caught on,
and laughed heartily.

“That’s true!” he
agreed, pointing at her. “No getting around that!” After the merriment died
down, he stared at her for a moment in silence.

“Leigh, we’re
going to be married, and I want you to be my wife, more than anything else in
this world,” he said sincerely. “I suppose I can’t blame you for looking for
some fun, with me working all the time.” He smiled ruefully. “But I want to be
the man you want. I’ll change. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.” He
paused a moment, then produced the gift.

“This is for you, honey,”
he announced, holding the gift box out to her. She looked at it, then at him,
her crystalline blue eyes meeting his.
My god she is so beautiful,
he
thought.
I hope this works
!  She tentatively took and opened the
jewelry box, revealing a pair of dazzling two karat diamond earrings.

“So what do you
think?” he asked, watching her closely.

She picked up her
glass and took a big swallow of the champagne, closing her eyes briefly before
sitting the glass back on the table.

“They are
absolutely
gorgeous
!” she exclaimed truthfully. She held them up, and
the diamonds danced in the light. But as she was momentarily caught up in the
rapture all women feel when presented with the precious gems, a voice suddenly
spoke up in her mind, diminishing their sparkle. It was her mother’s voice from
their conversation yesterday: “
Money, a home, those things are nice. But if
there is true love, it will live in a cave as easily as a mansion
.” And on
the heels of that thought came one of Kyle, a man without all of the things
Gene possessed, yet full of confidence, and brimming with life.

He leaned over and
brushed her hair lovingly back from her neck.

“I’m glad you like
them,” he said. “Is it all good now?”

She bit her bottom
lip softly and sighed.

“Yes,” she
replied. “It is.”

He scooted closer
to her, and placed a finger on her chin, turning her face toward his. She
allowed him, and when she looked into his eyes, she saw his love for her
plainly, a love she had never doubted. But when his lips touched hers, she saw
Kyle’s face in her mind’s eye. She fought the vision away as best she could and
returned his kiss, putting her heart into the moment, appreciating her fiancé’s
love. In each other’s arms, they drifted into the night, having vanquished the
problems of the day.

At least until
tomorrow.

 
 
CHAPTER
8
 

On Thursday
evening of the following week, Kyle sat alone in his apartment, working on
writing the final chapters of an older, unfinished novel. He hadn’t been
inspired by any new ideas lately, so he had gone through his files and dug one
out which he had titled,
The Fishing Trip. 
It was a wordy novel,
more than three quarters done, and when he reread it, he had been surprised
that he had lost interest and stopped so close to finishing.  He tried to
remember what had been going on at that point in his life that may have
sidetracked him, but nothing stood out.

The story centered
around two men, one black, one white, who began to visit the same fishing hole,
sitting on opposite sides of the creek, each Saturday morning. The story took
place in the mid twentieth century, in a small town in the south. George
Robinson and his family were the first black family to move to the town, and
they faced bigotry and extreme prejudice from the exclusively white populace.
The creek, a quarter mile walk through the woods from Joe Hammer’s  home,
had been his solitary retreat for several years, and the intrusion of his space
and time by another man, much less a black one, was a matter of extreme
frustration to Joe. He did not voice his displeasure that first Saturday –
though he did cast some disproving glances in George’s direction - deciding to
wait and see if it was a one- time thing. When Joe arrived at the fishing hole
the next week, George was back, as he was every following Saturday. They fished
in silence for several weeks, and with each passing week, Joe’s luck had gone
steadily downhill. He enviously watched George reeling them in, and finally,
one Saturday, he testily asked George, “What in hell are you doing to catch all
those fish?”

George’s
magnanimous response endeared Joe to him, and from that point, the two men
became unlikely friends. Joe was the owner of a large mill in town, and when a
supervisory position came open, he hired George for the spot, based on his work
experience. The move infuriated the town folk, but Joe was undeterred, despite
pressure from the mayor, selectmen, and almost everyone one in positions of
authority. When Joe learned that George had suffered harassment from his white
subordinates, and was ultimately physically assaulted, he made the courageous
decision to fire the guilty men, causing a major upheaval in the town.

Kyle needed to be
at work on something to motivate himself after his latest literary setback, and
this particular story, he felt, was worthy of his energies. He had to stay busy
writing; it was an exercise that kept him balanced. Not to mention he needed to
submit something new to his agent pretty soon to keep that business
relationship going.

BOOK: The Rain Began to Fall
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ads

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