A Touch of Rain

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

Rain turned the volume down on his iPod shuffle, muting Prince’s voice. “Excuse me?” he asked the woman standing by the school fence who was smiling expectantly at him. She must have been addressing him, but he hadn’t heard. “Sorry, I had my music on,” he quickly said, tucking his earphones into his hooded sweater.

Dressed in a sleeveless white tee, and sporting a few tattoos on her sculpted arms, the woman stepped closer to him. She was tall and lean with a head full of wild brown hair. She reminded him of a rebellious and younger K.D. Lang. “I was just asking if you were new to this school,” she said.

“Yes, we’re new.” Too shy to speak, Rain checked the school doors again. Soon, the kids would be let out and he’d finally see Pip’s face. It was tough being separated from him during the day. Pip had started school two days before and his absence was difficult to bear. Rain spent his day walking around his sister’s apartment, hoping to get something done. Anything productive. “My son and I just moved here last week,” he added, trying be more social.

“Oh, well then, welcome to the neighborhood.” The woman grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously. She had expressive blue eyes that soaked up the sky. She kept Rain’s hand inside hers for a few seconds, then released her strong grip on his fingers. “I’m Bernice,” she said. “But please, call me Bernie. I saw you standing all by yourself and thought I should say hello.”

Rain’s social awkwardness usually kept him from talking to people he didn’t know, but this woman’s pleasant way put him at ease. “It’s nice to meet you, Bernie. I’m Rain.”

“Yeah? Wow. Very unique. My wife would love it. I think Rain was on her list of names for our second daughter.” Bernie laughed again and looked over at the empty schoolyard.

Meeting another openly gay parent on the first week? His sister Faustina had been right: Montreal was definitely more open than Otterburn Park.

“What grade is your son in?” Bernie asked.

Rain caught the looks he was getting from a few parents lined up by the fence. People were obviously curious about him. He was still insecure about being a single gay father. And though he was thirty-five years old, people often mistook him for a teenager. “He’s in grade five for now. We’re not sure if he’s going to be switched back to fourth grade.”

“Who’s he got? Mr. Larose or Ms. Jillian?”

“Jillian.” Rain swallowed the knot in his throat. Every time he discussed his son with strangers, he became defensive and anxious. “Is that good?”

“Depends. She’s a tough teacher, but she’s fair. Unless your son has a learning disability. Then you might hit a wall with her.”

Rain had to look away. A learning disability? Pip had Asperger’s, he was sure of it. He didn’t have the official diagnostic yet, but Pip was on the waiting list for a neurological and psychological evaluation at Montreal’s best autism clinic. In the meantime, all Rain could do was compensate for every setback Pip experienced, hoping to keep his son in a normal school, where he belonged.

“Hey, you all right?”

Rain forced a smile. “You have two girls?” he asked, realizing he’d shut the world out again. He did that a lot.

“Yep. One in the fourth grade and the other in sixth.”

He decided to be open with Bernie. After all, she’d come out to him, right off. “I’m also a gay parent,” he said, very softly.

Bernie nudged his shoulder with hers. “Awesome. Thanks for sharing that. It’s good to network sometimes, you know?”

Rain heard the bell chiming and tensed, waiting for the crowd of kids to pour out into the schoolyard.

“Here they come,” Bernie said. “Well, my shift starts now.”

Seconds later, Rain was reunited with Pip. “Hey, you,” he said, slipping Pip’s heavy bag off his shoulder. God, what was he carrying in there—bricks? “How was your afternoon?”

As always, Pip smiled and shrugged. “Yes,” he said, not responding to the question.

“Did you, uh, give your teacher that note I asked you to?”

“I forgot.”

Yes, of course Pip had forgotten, but it didn’t matter, he’d make an appointment with the principal instead. Rain looked over his shoulder, catching sight of Bernie greeting her daughters. Meeting his stare, Bernie signaled for him to come closer.

“All right, Pip, time to meet new people.” Rain tossed his head in Bernie’s direction. “We go on three?”

“Can I have some brie cheese when I get home?”

“I think there’s a few pieces left, yes.” Rain tugged on Pip’s hand. “On three, we go and meet people.”

Pip inhaled deeply. “One,” he said and blinked a few times. “Two.”

Rain swallowed hard. “Three.” They walked to Bernie and her girls. “Hi,” Rain said, adjusting the heavy school bag over his shoulders. He was so terrible at this, but he’d have to try to make new friends or he’d end up stuck in his apartment all day, the way he had back in Otterburn Park. “This is my son Philip, but everybody calls him Pip.”

“Well, hello, there, Pip. Love the nickname, by the way.” Bernie glanced over at Rain. “Did you name him after the character in the book Great Expectations?”

“Uh, no.” He knew he was blushing. “It was in honor of the character Philip Carey in Of Human Bondage.”

“Oh, even better.” Bernie laughed and then introduced her daughters, Candid and Constance. The girls both had thick black hair. The oldest, Constance, seemed to be the more extroverted of the two. She shook Rain’s hand and commented on his lavender sweater. The youngest one had piercing dark brown eyes and a quieter way about her. She had a cute raspy voice that stole a grin out of Rain.

Bernie gave Pip a kind look. “How are you liking the new school so far?” she asked.

Pip didn’t answer her, but Rain forced himself not to intervene or to speak for his son. He couldn’t keep doing that. What message would he be sending Pip if he never trusted him to interact socially, even if it was awkward?

Bernie looked at Pip a moment longer and then winked at Rain. “A man of a few words. I can appreciate that.”

Rain was grateful to her for not pushing Pip to say more. He let his guard down a little. “It was great meeting you,” he said, keeping an eye on his son, who was walking away towards the park. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

Bernie grabbed her daughters’ bags from off the ground. “Sure thing. You live close by?”

“Just across the park.” Rain noticed that Pip was staring at a squirrel, obviously scared to walk past it. “I gotta go.” He turned away and hurried to Pip, touching his shoulder lightly as he reached him. “He won’t bite you.”

Pip was frozen still. “He might be rabid.”

“No, look at his eyes and the way he’s moving. He’s fine.” Rain pulled on Pip’s hand. “Come on, I’ll make you a brie cheese sandwich at home.”

“Okay, but walk on this side.”

“Yes. Oh, do you have homework to do for tomorrow?”

“I don’t know.”

They walked side by side, through the park. It was a sunny afternoon and the park was full of people and action. Pip walked fast, commenting on every dog they crossed. Pip knew every race. Even the mixed ones. He had selective interests he focused on and could remember details in a way that always floored Rain.

“Maybe you could become a vet,” Rain said, then thought of how poorly his son did in math. His heart sunk and he pushed his usual fears to the back of his mind. What would high school be like? What would his son do for a living? How long could he compensate for Pip?

He really needed his ex-husband to support him with this. But Milo’s head was in the sand.

Pip was quiet, but happy, and together, they crossed over the water, walking on the little bridge, and soon emerged on the other side of the park, both lost in their own worlds again. Then Rain saw Tristan sitting on the front porch, and his stomach tightened. His sister Faustina had often gushed about Tristan’s good looks, but Rain had suspected her of exaggerating. After all, his sister and he didn’t share the same taste in men—thank God, or teenage-hood would have been a nightmare. But this time, Faustina hadn’t exaggerated. Tall and athletic, with smoldering dark eyes and a smile to make him swoon, Tristan was gorgeous in a way Rain knew he’d find hard to resist.

And now he’d have to walk by Tristan, and that meant talking to the stunning man without making a complete fool of himself.