Tessa
I knew it was raining long before I even opened my eyes. In fact, I’d felt the rain moving in yesterday. Moving into my head, threatening one of those headaches that made you wish you only had a sharp implement wedged into your temple. Because then you could remove it and end the sharp pain. Moving into my bones, shattered and rejoined, with pins and prayers.
The physical pain I could live with. I’d rather not, but I could handle it.
It was the emotional hit on rainy days that undid me. Most of my weak moments landed on rainy days. Over the last three years, rainy days were the ones that could keep me in bed. And make my heart feel raw and flayed open.
It was raining the night of the accident. The police said the rain had been a contributing factor. Rainy days could keep me in bed under the covers, rocking back and forth until the pain eased. Or until the sun came out. I tried to slam the door shut on my rainy day thoughts about what I’d lost. Those thoughts were painful, unproductive, and left me feeling guilty and selfish.
I rolled over in bed with a moan, and Sully popped up from where he’d been lying near my feet to lick my chin. “Hey, Sully boy. I’m getting up, I promise. I’m just moving slowly today.”
Sully lay down six inches from my face, resting his head on his paws with a whine.
“I know. That’s what I said twenty minutes ago.” I looked into Sully’s sweet face and went through my list of reasons to get up out of bed. Poor Sully was used to this rainy day routine. “Because Mom would want me to. Because Dad does. He carries on every day. Because Sully loves me and needs me to take care of him. Because Laura is always there for me and I don’t want to let her down. Because there are patients at Meadowbrook Rehab trying to make it through those beginning horrible, dark days. Because tomorrow the sun will shine. Because I still haven’t tried the peach pie at the new place around the corner. And because I have to pee.”
Sully lifted his head and barked.
“And because Sully has to pee.” I scratched Sully under his chin, and then finally rolled over and up until I was sitting on the side of my bed. “Okay, here we go. All I have to do is give a little, Sully.”
I was up, moving a bit slower like I was walking around balancing an egg on my head, but I was up and moving. I took care of everyone’s potty needs first. Then got the coffee brewing while I showered and dressed for the day.
Today I needed comfort, so I dressed in black yoga pants, my favorite long-sleeved T-shirt, with an old sweater of my mom’s over the T-shirt. A pair of old running shoes rounded out my outfit. Comfort for both my body and my soul.
Back in the kitchen I dumped Sully’s food in his bowl and refreshed his water dish, before pouring my first cup of coffee, black, and then picking up my phone from where I charged it overnight.
Five texts. Four of them I was expecting. Because the people in my life knew that rainy days sucked. My Dad (Love you, baby girl. Heart emoji, Dad), Gigi (Madigan women are strong. Don’t let the rainy days make you forget that.), my physical therapist (Make sure to stretch extra today!), and Laura (Get the fuck out of bed, lazy bitch. Heart emoji. Cup of coffee emoji. Pile of poop emoji.) Laura had a weird sense of humor like I did.
The fifth text was from Joe, my regular Uber driver (Can’t make the pick-up today. Down with flu.) I tried not to freak out while I sent Joe a “feel better” text back. Okay, now I could freak out a little.
It came down to that change thing again. I don’t handle it well. But also, I trusted Joe’s driving and the last thing I wanted to do was trust a stranger on a rainy day. But I didn’t have anyone else to call. Laura had to work. Gigi had recently stopped driving on her doctor’s orders. I wasn’t going to drag my dad out in the rain.
I could miss our volunteer session today, but I hated that idea. Especially because a new patient, Sophie, had connected with Sully on our last visit. Sophie’s mom had hugged me and told me that was the first smile they’d seen from Sophie since her injury. Sophie’s TBI was worse than mine had been. She had a longer road back. I’d promised Sophie and her mom that Sully would visit today.
“Way to go, Tessa. You wouldn’t be in this position if you’d stopped being a coward and driven your damn car.” I was angry with myself. So angry. My muscles went tight with it and I wanted to scream, and stomp my feet, and maybe even throw something. Preferably something that shattered in a nice satisfying crash.
My body ached, my heart hurt, guilt ate at me, and a sharp pain sliced into the front, right side of my brain. Crap. Migraine. This one stress induced. They were the worst. The rain wasn’t helping either. I grabbed out my medicine with shaky fingers, swallowing it down. I also poured another cup of coffee, since caffeine often helped. Then I grabbed the pint of coffee toffee ice cream from the freezer and took my coffee and the ice cream to the couch. I planned to have myself a good old pity party while I waited for my medicine to kick in.
First, I closed the curtains in the family room, trying to get the room as dark as possible. Partly to help ward off the migraine. Partly because dark rooms were best for wallowing and pity parties. Trust me on this. Next, I wrapped my fuzzy brown lap blanket around me, and parked myself on the couch, with my coffee and ice cream in easy reach.
I grabbed the TV remote, clicked on the DVR, and hit play on my go-to movie when I needed an excuse to cry, Old Yeller. This movie made me sob like a baby every time. I always turned it off before the gut wrenchingly sad, horrible scene—I didn’t want to put Sully through watching that scene—but it didn’t matter; my tears started real early because I knew what was going to happen.
I was almost an hour into the movie when my doorbell rang. I was a sobbing, blubbering mess. I’d gone through half a box of tissues (exaggerating) and three quarters of the ice cream (not exaggerating). I ignored the doorbell. To be truthful, I was crying too hard to even pull myself together to get up off the couch. Sully jumped from the couch to bark at the door though, but that was because he didn’t know what was going to happen to Yeller. I knew. And thinking about it only intensified my tears.
“Tessa?” Gray’s voice called from my front door.
“Whaaaat?” I wailed between bites of ice cream. Oh, God. There it was. Yeller just threw himself at the wolf to save the girl. “No, no.”
It was the warm hand gently cupping my jaw that pulled me out of the movie. Gray sat on my coffee table, two feet away, his gorgeous face worried.
“Tessa, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” He gently pushed my hair from my tear-streaked, snotty-nosed face.
Sully was back on the couch next to me, looking very worried. Almost as worried as Gray. I heard his deep whiskey voice with one ear and the wolf and Old Yeller fight with the other. “I’ve got to turn the TV off! Where’s the clicker? Quick, Gray! The clicker! I need the—”
Gray reached out, took the clicker from my hand, and shut the TV off.
“Thank you.” I sniffed, knowing I was still on a very delicate edge. My head felt better, but my body still ached. “Thanks, Gray. I don’t like Sully watching that scene.”
I saw him take me in. All of me. The whole hot mess of me. The scattered damp tissues, the nearly empty and now melting ice cream carton, and my splotchy, tear-ravaged face.
“What’s going on, Tessa?” he asked again, his voice firmer this time. I guess I’d scared him, but honestly, if something was really wrong, I wouldn’t be watching Old Yeller.
“How did you get in here?”
“I heard you crying. The front door was unlocked—which we’ll talk about later—so I came in to make sure you were okay.” His gaze roamed over me like he was taking inventory. “Now, would you please tell me what’s wrong?”
“It’s raining.” I sniffed. No, I wasn’t going to cry again. I was trying to pull it together. I mean, my accident was three years ago, so when I did have a bad day, I tried to limit it to thirty minutes—an hour, tops—before I had to reassess and see if I could turn the beast around.
“You’re crying because it’s raining?” He grabbed a fresh tissue from the box next to his hip on the coffee table and used it to wipe my eyes dry.
“No. I’m crying because rainy days bring back bad memories of the accident, they make my heart hurt, and they give me a headache, and they make all the bones I broke ache. And because I promised Sophie I’d bring Sully to Meadowbrook for a visit, and I know how much little things like that can get you through a day when you’re in pain and depressed and scared. But then Joe—you remember Joe, my regular Uber driver?—he texted to say he couldn’t drive me. I could have called for another ride, but I wouldn’t know them or trust their driving, and it’s raining, so that would make it worse, because some people can’t drive in the rain.
“What if their tires were bald? And then I got mad at myself, because if I’d gotten over this stupid anxiety about driving again, then I could drive myself to take Sully to visit Sophie. And because I hate what happens to Old Yeller after trying to save the girl. I really, really hate that.” I sucked in a long shaky breath and released it. “That’s why I’m crying.”
By the time I’d finished explaining, Gray had this strange look on his face. One I wasn’t sure what it was. I guess I’d dumped way too much on him. It was a lot to take in. Or maybe I was such a hot mess, he was trying to think of the best way to extricate himself from the situation.
“What’s Meadowbrook?”
“It’s a rehabilitation hospital for traumatic brain injuries.”
His gaze sharpened on me, but all he said was, “Would you trust me to drive you? I’ve never been in an accident or gotten a ticket. I can drive in the rain just fine. I’ve got brand new Michelin 560s on my truck, which are excellent in the rain.”
“I’d trust you.” I’d trusted him with my body. I’d trusted him with my scars. This one. Yeah, I trusted him on the cellular level from our first meeting. “And thank you. This means so much to me. We don’t have to stay long. I know you’ve got a busy schedule, so even a few minutes is fine. I don’t want to let Sophie down.” I felt my eyes tear up again. I think this time it was from the stress and also relief. “The early days are so hard, and Sully made her smile last time, so…so… Just let me know when you can go and Sully and I will be ready.”
Gray leaned forward, wrapped his hands gently around my face, and kissed me. It wasn’t a hot, romantic kind of kiss. Just an “I’m here for you kiss.” But then again, maybe those are the most romantic kind of kisses.
“Now works fine.” He took the ice cream container from my hand, now completely melted and dripping, and stood, pulling me up with him. “You okay? Still hurting?”
“I’m good.” Something about Gray’s blue eyes softened the aches of my body. Something about his willingness to drop everything and help soothed my aching heart.
Fifteen minutes later, after Gray had made a phone call to rearrange his schedule, the three of us were in Gray’s truck and backing down the driveway. Sully was wearing his Roughneck hockey T-shirt and I might have been wearing a goofy smile.
“Fair warning: I’ve got questions about all the other things you said. How long does it take to get to Meadowbrook?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“Not enough time for all of them, but it’s a start. First off, tell me about rainy days and pain…”