Heaven Sent Rain (13 page)

The dogs’ barking jerked his attention to the fact that the timer he’d set for five had been ringing for some time. Right, so he could take care of his menagerie. He’d been totally oblivious.

Call and cancel! I can’t do that!
The argument raged while he fed and watered, patted and chatted, apologized for leaving yet again, and promised he would not be gone long. As usual, they didn’t believe him.

Justifiably so. It was now six o’clock. He ignored the pleading looks and rushed out to the car. He hated being late. He hated leaving his painting even more.
God, this isn’t fair.
Was that a faint chuckle or the wind?

Once in the car and out on the street, he glanced down to see that he had cerulean blue paint on his pants along with some burnt umber and various mixed colors. But the clock now read six fifteen and he had about a ten-minute drive. He called to apologize and kept on driving. He also did not have a hostess gift. What kind of guest was he?

One who wished he were still at home in front of the easels, that’s what kind of a guest.
Lord, help me keep my mind on the conversation and not back in my studio.

What
was
it with those eyes?

D
inah and Jonah slid right through Monday morning like it was already habit, including breakfast at the Extraburger. The last thing Jonah said to her was “You probably need to call my school and…”

“Thanks for the reminder, Jonah, and I’ll make sure Mutt gets a potty break.”

“Thank you.” He left but waved to her again as he walked past the window. She waved back, of course. It was natural somehow.

She took her time finishing her coffee. Sitting here was preferable to whatever awaited her upstairs.

“Good morning.” April sounded cheery as ever. She swiveled her chair around, the better to talk to Dinah.

Dinah paused beside her desk. “How did the tryouts go?”

“They both got on the teams they wanted and my dear sweet husband is now coaching Danny’s team. Or, rather, assisting coaching, as he said. I did not volunteer to be the team mother, in spite of imploring looks.”

“Good for you.” Dinah shifted her briefcase to her other hand. “Anything I should know?”

“I’ve set up a briefing for morning coffee break in the board room.”

“Good.”

“How is Jonah doing?”

“Remarkably well. Corinne made this all seem so ordinary, that of course she was going to live with Jesus, and of course Jonah would have a new home and, well, here he has a new home.” The burn of tears at the back of her nose and throat surprised her. “He’s doing better than I am.”

April nodded. “Just be prepared for that to change and most likely at the least opportune time.” Dinah nodded. “There’s a call from Mr. Jensen. Top of your notes there. He seems like such a nice man and so very concerned for Jonah—well, all of this.”

“He said he and Corinne had things taken care of, and I guess they did.”

“He said to remind you to call the school. He couldn’t do that for you.”

“Jonah reminded me, too. Did you have to go through all the legal-rights stuff for your kids?”

“Of course. Every parent and babysitter and grandparent and whoever associates with the children has to do the same thing. It’s the law now.” She thought a moment. “Oh, and this call is just to set up an appointment. You have to do this in person. Allow several hours.”

Dinah could feel her eyes widen. “Really?”

“Really, but you won’t have to do it every year, just when he changes schools.”

Dinah gave her a disbelieving look and headed for her office. So she was still back in the unreal dream world after all.

Today she wore a white cashmere sweater and lined wool pants with a perfect crease. Her fringed square scarf was more blues than reds and pinks today, and she wore it knotted at one shoulder and draped to a point on the other arm. She might have been wiser to wear a jacket, chilly as it was. Spring had made a brief visit, then succumbed to winter again. Or so it felt. At least Jonah had a warm jacket on.

The conversation with Mr. Jensen was reassuring, like the others had been. He said yes, they would schedule some time together and he would answer as many questions as he could. But when he asked her opinion on a get-together in memory of Corinne, Dinah heaved a sigh.

“I just don’t know. It worries me greatly. Jonah is going along as if nothing has happened, so I don’t know what would be best for him. Maybe you should ask Grammy Trudy. She’s been around him far longer than I have.”

“I will do that. Remember, if you need me, I am only a phone call away.”

She dialed the school number next and asked whom she needed to talk to regarding becoming Jonah’s guardian of record. Five minutes of holds later, which set her to gritting her teeth, she was finally connected to some lady with a title she couldn’t quite make out.

“I can make the appointment for you. Can you come in tomorrow?”

“But what if there is a problem today? His mother died and we didn’t have time to put this into place.”

“I understand. Can you be here in half an hour, and we will try to fit you in.”

“Ah, can you be a bit more specific than that? I have a business to run.”

“I’m sorry, but today is turning into one of those kinds of days. Mondays are like that. I’ll do what I can to expedite this, but the process has to be followed.”

Dinah rolled her eyes. She was already aware of some of
the process
. “I’ll be there as soon as I can be.”

“I will notify the officer that you are coming. Can you give me your license plate number?”

“Ah—no. I don’t know that. How about if I take a taxi?”

“We’ll still need your license number.”

“I’ll call you from my car.”

The appointment went downhill from there. She had to wait for the officer to let her into the parking lot. She was third in a line of petitioners waiting in the hall. She had only one piece of picture ID with her, her driver’s license. She needed two, and her passport was home in a drawer. Good thing one of her credit cards had a photo.

Finally, finally, she was ushered into an office. A stern, rotund, older woman scowled at her. “Ms. Taylor. Be seated.” Icy cold.

Dinah sat. “Jonah’s lawyer, Lars Jensen, sent you paperwork over with Corinne Morgan’s signature. Corinne knew she was dying when they prepared it.”

“I have that paperwork.” The ice did not thaw. “Let’s just cut to the chase, Ms. Taylor. You are on the school’s watch list as a suspected child molester. I cannot in good conscience simply turn a small child over to you.”

Fury leaped up and waved flames in her face. “The charges are spurious. They arose when I came by to walk home with Jonah. We are friends. His mother was my friend. Which is why Corinne remanded him to my care.”

“Until the matter is thoroughly investigated…”

Dinah could hear her voice rising. She didn’t want that; it was happening anyway. “I have a business, Mrs. I-don’t-remember-your-name, and I cannot spend idle time sitting in offices. Jonah needs me now, right now, and you have the appropriate papers in hand. They are binding, legal documents. You will clear me to take over my role of
in loco parentis
so that Jonah and I can get on with our lives. It is hard enough on him as is.”
And you cannot imagine how hard this is on me.
But she didn’t say that.

“Approval does not come automatically just because some lawyer said so. We must review reports of any outstanding warrants and—”

“Must I go to court to force you to honor legal documents?”

“Mrs. Taylor…”

“That is
Doctor
Taylor, and you will please complete the business now.”

You could read in her face that the woman was going to keep arguing.

Dinah whipped out her phone. “Let’s call Mr. Jensen, the lawyer. You can explain to him why you refuse to honor legal instruments of…”

Scowling, the woman turned to her keyboard and typed furiously. A printer spat out some forms. She retrieved them and splacked them down in front of Dinah. “Sign this.”

The forms were upside down. Dinah turned them around, skimmed down through them, four pages of them, and signed and initialed her life away. No matter that she was on a pervert watch list. No matter that she knew absolutely nothing about parenthood or small children or even dogs. As far as the school was concerned, she was now Jonah’s surrogate mother.

She walked out to the parking lot furious, still bubbling and snorting like a dragon at bay. Then she remembered: Mutt. She called April from the car as she backed out of her slot. “I’ll be back in a few. I have to run home. The dog needs a potty break.”

“I see. Sure.” April had a hard time disguising the laughter in her voice. “The boy is coming over here to the office after school, right?”

“Until I can set up babysitting, yes.”

“If he is like my kids, he’ll be starved.”

“Do we have some kid snacks in the cupboard or the freezer?” She stopped behind the red-and-white-striped arm across the road.

“We’ll find something.”

Slow and stately—not in a dignified way, because you cannot be red-and-white-striped and be dignified—the arm rose and she headed for home.

Still seething, she parked in her stall and jogged upstairs, walked into her condo. “Hey Mutt, sorry. I hope you had your legs crossed.” The dog flapped its tail. She looked around briefly, but she could not see or smell any evidence of an accident. She grabbed a plastic bag and they took the elevator down.

There were days, especially when she was working down in the lab, when she could not keep regular hours. Who would take Mutt out or greet Jonah after school when she was struggling with some uncooperative amyloid or carotene derivative until ten at night? Where could Jonah go after school? Today he would come to the office, but that could not become a habit.

The dog did her business, and Dinah breathed a sigh of relief; the pooch deposited quite a large pile, so she must have been holding it awhile. Checking her watch, she saw it was almost three p.m. “You want to come to work with me? See Jonah?”

At her boy’s name, Mutt beat a tattoo with her tail and did a couple of doggy jigs. The cone clacked against the curb. She and Dinah returned to the office building, took the elevator up, and walked in. Mutt acted like she did this every day, but when she heard Jonah’s voice, the look she gave Dinah said it all.

“Go find Jonah.” Dinah unsnapped the leash and Mutt dashed down the hall and into the break room, where laughter and giggles announced the happy reunion.

Turning from the coffee pot, April grinned. “Does your heart good, doesn’t it?”

Dinah had to smile, too. “She has a knack for bringing love and laughter with her, that’s for sure.”

“You’ve never had a dog, right?”

“Nope.”
My mother did not allow animals in the house.
The thought came unbidden, but she would not dignify it by saying it aloud. Coffees in hand, the two headed for her office.

“It’s going to be interesting, your pure white home.”

“Which reminds me, can you recommend anything that takes blood and mud out of upholstery? They seem sort of indelible.”

“Especially once they’ve set. I can recommend you get a new sofa; that’s about all. Or replace the cushions.”

Replace the cushions. Why had Dinah not thought of that?

April turned grim. “Hal called. I don’t think it’s good news. Said he’d be here at four.”

“Great. Now what?” Dinah stepped back to check on Jonah briefly in the break room, then went directly to her office. She skimmed her email. Alyssa had attached the Excel files with the latest estimates on when they would have Food for Life’s newest darling in health-food stores and on shelves. The original estimate had been May 1, but—there was always that
but
.

Hal rapped on her door at 4:01 and entered, not waiting for an invitation.

She swiveled her chair around to face him. “All right, so what is the problem?”

“I can’t decide if it’s a problem or a good thing. The interview will go live at 8:00 p.m. on the regional channels and nationwide clips on the ten o’clock news. I doubt it will get much time on the networks. It all depends on what catastrophe happens between now and then.”

Dinah ignored the hand strangling her stomach. What difference could this really make? After all, any news was considered good advertising.

Right?

Even if they made her look like a fool by showing her stumbling along, how could that hurt their product? All that was important was getting out news of a new food additive that could help those who needed it.

Right?

To watch it or not to watch it. The query had been running through her head all evening.

She glanced up to find Jonah studying her, a wrinkle between his bushy eyebrows showing his concern.

“I’m sorry, Jonah. Just trying to decide what to do.”

“About what?”

“You know the interview I did the other day?”

“Sort of.”

“Well, it will be aired on television tonight.”

“You don’t want to see it?” Sitting on the still-stained couch, he leaned over to rub Mutt’s back. She wriggled in delight.

Why did this child have to be so perceptive? “I guess not.”

“Then don’t watch it. Or…” He paused. “You could call Mr. Hal and ask him.”

“True.” But one of the problems was they’d not been allowed to see the interview in advance. The thought of how she had dropped the ball made her shake. Why had she let them get to her? And was it really as bad as she felt it was? While it was supposed to be shown as taped, the odds on no editing were slim. It all depended on how honorable the producers were. Dinah huffed out a breath. If that was the deciding factor, she was doomed.

Had she had access to the tape, would she have edited it? Good question. Cut out the final ten minutes of the interview. Maybe they’d had camera failure. Could she be so lucky?
Shift gears; this is getting me nowhere.

“Didn’t you say you needed help with flashcards for your math? Go get them, okay?”

He nodded. “If you don’t mind.” They spent the next half hour reviewing multiplication tables.

Even when Dinah sped up the flashing, he never missed one. “You did really well.”

“I like math. It makes sense.”

“It does indeed.” She glanced at the clock and clicked on the station. If she got too disgusted with it, she could turn it off.

She didn’t.

As the closing credits rolled at the end, her cell bleeped.

“Well? Did you watch it?” Hal asked.

“Yes.”

“And?”

Dinah shrugged. “Fine up until I totally lost it. Of course they wouldn’t edit that out.”

“No, they stayed pretty close to the original taping. And, Dinah, you are seeing it as far worse than it was. You did not appear to be falling apart.”

“But talk about muddled answers. She had me on the run and she delighted in that.”
Thanks for trying to make me feel better, Hal. Water under the bridge and all that. But I know when I messed up royally, and no soothing words can change the fact that I failed to get our message across. Failed miserably.

“That’s part of her job. You did manage eventually to soften her adversarial stance.”

Dinah shook her head and wondered inanely why she was shrugging and gesturing in a phone conversation. “Right. Say hello to the tooth fairy for me. And the Easter Bunny is real.” Realizing what she’d said, she looked for Jonah, and was relieved to see he was in his room. Did seven-year-olds believe in the Easter Bunny?