Rainstorm

She couldn’t believe it. She just couldn’t believe it. How she’d actually managed to work up the nerve to shoot Rain’s husband, she’d never know. It just seemed like the night Rain went on her last bike ride, it was either then or never. It was a huge risk—she knew she could have ended up in jail for the rest of her life. And in her late fifties, she still had another thirty years left, and thirty years was a hell of a long time to spend behind bars. But thirty years was also a long time to spend alone, and she knew she didn’t want to pass up what might be her only opportunity, since Rain didn’t usually go out alone. She’d used an old, unregistered gun of her husband’s. It had been years since he’d taught her how to shoot, and she wasn’t even sure she remembered how to fire the damn thing—or if it would fire at all because of its age. If she’d gone over there and the gun had jammed, she definitely would’ve ended up in big trouble. That would’ve been attempted murder, after all. But her love for Rain was reason enough to take the chance, and Rain had been her driving force. She didn’t know if Rain could ever feel the same for her, but now she at least had the opportunity to influence her feelings. Or try to, anyway. She believed she felt close enough to Rain to live with her—now that she no longer had Troy. Julia would go slowly. She knew proceeding slowly was important because Rain needed time to grieve. If she moved too fast and appeared too eager, that might end up driving Rain away. ________________________________________ The night of the shooting played over and over again in her mind. She’d simply gone across the street, knowing someone might see her, and rang the doorbell. As soon as Troy came to the door, she’d fired. She’d held the gun low and off to the side so that if it had jammed, she could quickly shove it into the pocket of her housedress before Troy had a chance to see it—or understand what she’d tried to do. But the gun had behaved as soon as she pulled the trigger, firing a round into his abdomen. He’d begun to shout as he doubled over in pain and bled out. Without ever saying a word to him, she’d quickly walked back to her place, gotten into her car, and driven to the Sacramento River, where she’d dumped the weapon. Fortunately, she hadn’t gotten blood on her clothes, so there was no need to dump or burn them. She hadn’t even taken the time to close the door after shooting Troy—mostly because she’d hoped the cat would escape. She remembered Rain mentioning she didn’t let it outdoors because she feared it would run away. Julia loved the idea of Rain ending up with her, but not with that damn cat. She’d been able to return home before Rain got back from her bike ride. Heart thumping wildly in her chest, she’d watched from the window as Rain returned just minutes later and put her bike in the garage. From her angle, Rain hadn’t been able to see that the front door was open. The kitchen door was inside the garage, so Rain would have to go into the house before discovering Troy—which Julia could only hope was already too dead to foul up her plans and to identify her. There was, after all, always the slight chance he might survive. She felt a little guilty for Rain, but most of her felt happy to have Troy out of the picture. She truly believed they could have a happy relationship and that Rain would forget him in time—not literally forget, of course, but at least get over the hurt and pain. Julia would show her just what a wonderful partner she could be. She might not be the most attractive person in the world, but for her age, she wasn’t doing too badly—and she knew it. Had she been younger, she wouldn’t have dared take such risks. But in a youth-obsessed society, she didn’t expect to meet anyone new in the future. And even if she could, they wouldn’t be Rain. Rain was the one she wanted, and she was willing to make sacrifices for her. Ending her own life wasn’t an option because of her kids and grandkids. But Rain would make the rest of her life a lot more bearable, since her kids and their kids didn’t live with her. She also loved Rain in a way she didn’t love her kids. She had no idea how she’d come to love her as fast and as much as she had, but she had—and that was that. Why question love? her mother would say. But the police would certainly question Troy’s murder, so she knew she had to play it cool and act natural when they came to interview her—along with the other neighbors. ________________________________________ She told them she hadn’t seen or heard anything, explaining that she’d had music playing loudly in the living room so she could hear it while baking in the kitchen. Rain had been hysterical—crying and screaming. Julia could hear her all the way from her own place. She’d been quick to tell the officer at the door that Rain was welcome to stay with her, explaining that Rain had once been her patient—until they’d discovered she was moving in across the street—and that Rain didn’t know many people, being fairly new to the area. “Oh, you were her doctor?” the officer asked, a bit surprised. “Yes, and I’m in touch with her primary physician, so I can let her know if there’s anything of concern.” The officer had seemed satisfied and said he’d have Rain gather her things before sending her across the street. Oh, the benefits of being a physician. So many people saw them as gods. ________________________________________ Rain had contacted Troy’s estranged family and then basically cried the night away. Julia had done all she could to comfort her—and assuage her own guilt at the same time—by telling herself they were both better off in the long run. The doctor had expected Rain’s emotional state to remain desperately depressed and withdrawn, which would’ve been an advantage. It might’ve made it easier to win her over and convince her to stay indefinitely. Instead, Rain’s sorrow had soon turned to anger—and determination. She was going to get a job outside the home so she could support herself. “You’re welcome to get a job, of course, but you don’t need to be alone and support yourself. I’ve got plenty of money.” “And I appreciate you taking care of me until I can get on my feet, but it’s just a matter of independence, I guess. If I at least have my own money, then I know I have options. All I need is a part-time job—my online proofreading can supplement it just fine. But this way, I’m not locked into anything, and you’re not stuck with me if you change your mind later and get sick of me.” Julia knew what Rain really meant: This way, she could escape if she decided Julia was too boring—or not attractive enough—to live with. “I’ll never get sick of you, honey.” ________________________________________ It was then that Julia remembered Rain’s week on Prozac had been a total nightmare. Three or four days after starting the medication, Rain had been plagued with thoughts of dying and had to stop taking it. What if…? she began to wonder. What if Rain suddenly became more depressed? Wouldn’t she then be more likely to turn to Julia for support? The more she thought about it, the more the idea appealed to her. As long as she was careful to make sure Rain didn’t do anything stupid, the plan might just work. She’d just have to figure out how to get hold of the drug, but that should be simple enough. ________________________________________ Rain emerged from the shower clad in a sleeveless, pale-pink satin nightgown that barely reached her thighs. Julia could see hints of lacy panties beneath. “Well, hello, gorgeous. Would you like to watch a movie with me?” Rain shrugged. “Whatever.” Julia saw Rain glance at the chair across from the couch—as if she’d rather sit there than beside her—but Julia had a lot of stuff piled on it to take to a friend the next day. “Come on,” she said, patting the couch. “I don’t bite.” After a split second of hesitation, Rain sat next to her. Julia threw an arm around her and squeezed tight. “You’re going to be okay, girl. Just hang in there. Now, what would my fine lady like to watch?”