Page 3

Part A

“Here Comes the Rain Again”

April

“Suz? I’m home,” I call as I enter our apartment. My cat, Shelley, greets me at the door with her usual sad eyes for treats. Still not hearing Suz reply, I set my purse down on the table by the door, and head to kitchen to feed the starving kitty. She’s thirteen pounds, but pretends like she’s skin and bones.

“Suz? Are you home?” I call from the kitchen. Shelley devours her treats as if she hasn’t been fed all day—she has—then proceeds to wash her face. I walk into the living room to find Suz playing her video game with her noise-cancelling headphones on. I’m ruing the day I got those for her for Christmas. She’s in her usual position, legs crossed, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, gaming controller in hand. Her golden-brown hair falls in a chin-length cut that’s almost too straight. She doesn’t believe in layers, so all her hair has to be exactly the same length. Unfortunately, it accentuates the severity of her heavy eyebrows and Aquiline nose.

“I’m setting them on fire,” Suz says to her gaming companions over the internet. “We get one if we turn in the hair.”

I have this intense feeling of déjà vu but chalk it up to having heard Suz play this particular level before or something. I roll my eyes and head to the bedroom to change into loungewear. It’ll be at least half an hour before Suz hits pause on the game, and I don’t want to deal with the repercussions of interrupting her absolutely riveting adventure. Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy playing a video game every now and again—Suz and I even play some together—but I’m not as obsessed with them as she is, and I don’t play the ones that take hundreds of hours to complete and have very few save points.

I remove my blouse and dressy jeans to put on my comfiest yoga pants from Torrid and my favorite Muse T-shirt that’s seen better days. Though we don’t see many clients in person at work—which is in my friend and boss Nate’s house—he prefers us to look put together. He says it keeps us motivated as well. I’m not sure about that, but at least he doesn’t require us to be super stuffy. Shelley walks by, rubbing her fluffy grey tail against my legs, and I reach down to pet her. She’s a fairly affectionate cat to me, but she’s not one who likes to be picked up, and she doesn’t like other people all that much. She simply tolerates Suz’s existence, but she never gets to pet her. Not that Suz has ever wanted to.

I pick up my phone—which I nearly left charging at work but remembered to grab at the last second—and check for any notifications. Just one email from my doctor’s office telling me again that my biopsy was negative. What an absolute relief that was when I got the call yesterday. I seriously didn’t know what I was going to do if they had told me it was cancer. Those were the worst thirty-six hours of my life waiting for that call. Suz was just as relieved as I was—possibly because she knew she wasn’t going to have to take care of me during whatever treatment I went through. I know she cares for me, but she’s not the most nurturing soul on the planet.

Honestly, I’ve been contemplating breaking up with her for months now, but something keeps holding me back. It’s not that things aren’t good with her, but I’m just not completely happy in the relationship. We still enjoy watching movies and shows together, and there’s no one else in my life who can help me with my computer or my taxes the way she can. But I know there’s got to be more than this monotony we’ve fallen into. We’ve been together for eight years and living together for the last five, but some days it feels more like we’re roommates than girlfriends. And Suz won’t even use the term “girlfriends” or partners. If she introduces me at all, she just says my name. “This is Clare.”

It all comes back to Suz and I being very different people. They say opposites attract, but we might be too opposite. I’m an affectionate person and Suz is very much not. She “doesn’t understand the point of kissing.” I’m tidy but Suz takes it to extremes, to the point where I can’t move any of her things for fear she’ll completely lose it. I’m vegetarian and Suz loves meat. I like to pay my own way, but Suz needs everything split exactly—to the penny. Heaven forbid our water bill comes and it’s an odd number.

With all our differences, she was there for me when my parents died in the car accident, and I’ll never forget that. She helped me plan the memorial service while I was in the hospital recovering from my own injuries, handle the estate and go through their things. And I wouldn’t have made it through the long car ride back from the mountains without her—not to mention that I’d stopped driving as soon as I recovered. One could say I feel indebted to her for all that.

This has led to me expressing interest in things I don’t really enjoy to try to find some common ground and deepen our relationship. My best friend, Abby, gets on me all the time about being a Trekkie now, just because I watch some Star Trek shows with Suz. Do I like Star Trek ? Not really. But in pretending to like some of Suz’s favorite things, I did find some new things I do like, such as the new Doctor Who . C’mon, David Tennant and Jodie Whitaker are hot!

Bleep, bleep, bleep. My phone chirps with a new text message. It’s from Abby, confirming our plans to hang out tonight. Abby’s been my best friend since we were kids. We met in elementary school when we were both in the Academically Gifted program and bonded when we were somehow the only girls in the class. If I do decide to break up with Suz, I will most likely move in with her.

Abby: What time did you want me to pick you up?

Clare: 7 work for you?

Abby: Sounds good. Getting ice cream. What flavor do you want?

Clare: Vanilla Caramel Fudge, please! :-)

Abby: You got it! See you at 7.

Clare: Btw, I want to talk to you about your guest bedroom again.

Abby: Really? You’re finally going to do it?

Clare: We’ll see, but I think it might be time.

Abby: YAY!!

Shelley jumps up on the bed wanting pets. I can’t say no to her beautiful blue eyes, so I sit down next to her and rub her cheeks. She purrs contentedly, then twirls around to settle herself away from me on the bed—her signal that my job is done, and she’d like to be left alone now, thank you very much. She was my parents’ cat and came to live with me after the accident. I know she loves me, but I also know she was much more affectionate to my parents. It could also be she’s getting on in years and is simply getting grumpy.

Looking at my watch, I see I’ve got just enough time to heat up leftovers for dinner, eat them and maybe talk to Suz for a couple minutes before Abby comes to pick me up. Suz and I used to eat together, but our schedules don’t sync anymore now that she gets home earlier than me and immediately jumps online to play her games. So, we eat when we feel like it. It’s not like we eat the same things anyway. In fact, the fridge is literally separated down the middle with tape to denote her side and mine. Although I do like that her meat products aren’t touching my vegetarian food.

Walking past the bedroom window on the way to the kitchen, I notice it started raining. There’s a handsome guy in a full-on tuxedo coming out of the coffee shop across the street. I wonder if he’s going to a ball , I think as he pops open his huge golf umbrella, and I chuckle to myself.

After eating my leftovers, I hear Suz wrap up her play session in the living room and the beep-beep that signals the TV has been turned off. I go into the living room and find Suz setting her headphones on the stand next to the game controller.

“Hey,” I say.

She looks up, probably realizing for the first time that I’m home. “Oh, hey.”

“Good game?” I ask, not really caring but trying to show an interest.

She nods. “Yeah, we got to level twelve, and my character has some new armor that will come in handy.”

“Great,” I reply.

Silence.

“So, I’m going to Abby’s tonight to watch a movie. Need anything before I go?”

She thinks for a moment. “Nah. I’m gonna eat then the gang is going to play some more.”

“Okay. Have fun. I’ll be back later.”

“Sounds good,” she says, then she saunters off into the kitchen to make her dinner.

We’re basically just roommates, but I want more. I need more. I’m forty-two years old, and the woman I thought was my girlfriend is just my roommate. I might be an idiot for staying here this long.

* * *

“Come on in,” Abby says, opening the door to her apartment.

She works in property management, and one of the perks is getting a big discount on this swanky two-bedroom apartment in the Village District. It’s got hardwood floors, an open-plan kitchen/dining/living area, separate bathrooms and huge walk-in closets for each bedroom. Plus, there are floor-to-ceiling windows in the living area that look out on the courtyard below. She does make good money, but there’s no way she could afford a place like this without the discount. It makes the place Suz and I are living in look like a dump.

“So, are you really going to do it?” Abby asks. “I mean, you keep saying you’re going to break up with her…”

“Maybe. I…I’m seriously considering it.” I actually packed an overnight bag before I left so I could stay the night at Abby’s and think things over. I texted Suz from the car and told her I’d be back tomorrow after work, but haven’t gotten a response yet.

“What’s different this time? Did Suz do something? Or, more likely, not do something?”

“Nothing’s different with her, which is part of the problem.” I shrug, which sends a sting of pain through my right underarm where they did the biopsy. I’m glad I brought the tiny ice packs along to dull the pain. I’ll have to put those in again soon. “But, finding out I might have cancer really shook me. And Suz was very blasé about the whole thing. I know she wouldn’t have been particularly caring and nurturing if I did have to go through any kind of treatment.” I wipe my hands down my face. “I don’t know if I can sit around in a dead-end relationship anymore.”

“Good for you!” Abby pats me on the back. “You gave it your all. No one can say you didn’t. But she just isn’t right for you. Someday you’ll find the person you’re meant to be with.”

“Thanks. I feel kinda rotten about it. Not ‘cause Suz will care, but because I stayed too long where I wasn’t wanted. I wasted too much time.”

Abby envelops me in a hug. “You’ll find them, I know you will. And it will be magical.”

In her arms, I feel safer than I’ve ever felt. And I don’t know if it’s the stress of the last few days, my impending breakup, or the dream I had about the faceless one again last night, but I have this overwhelming feeling that maybe the person I’m meant to be with has been here in front of me all along. That would just be too easy, I think.

We break apart, and I look into her eyes. Even though the dream girl didn’t have a face, I feel exactly what I felt for the dream woman while I look at Abby: safety, hope, love. I tear my eyes away and shake my head to clear it. There’s no way the faceless one is Abby. I don’t know if it’s Suz either, but if my best friend was the one I was supposed to be with, I think I’d have already figured that out in over thirty years of friendship, wouldn’t I?