Damn, she forgot her umbrella and it was pouring down rain like water out of a faucet. If she could just make a mad dash to the car, maybe just maybe, she wouldn't get too wet. She went for it. It wasn't until she got to the door she realized her keys were still in her purse. Cursing a blue streak, she fumbled around and finally got the car door open and sloshed into the seat. She was absolutely drenched. Her dress clung to her like shrink-wrap, her shoes were ruined and her face was melting, her makeup pooling into her cleavage. She got a look at herself in the rear-view mirror and laughed, a little too hard and loud. She was losing it. This was just the kind of an end to a hellish day she should have expected. She got some kleenex out of the glove box, anything in her purse was too soggy to be of use. Cleaned herself up as much as she could and put the key into the ignition. Of course, nothing happened. Now she just let loose and started crying, then screaming and pounding her fists on the steering wheel. She must have made quite a sight to the man standing in front of her car under the awning.
He flipped his umbrella up and opened it, dashing to the passenger side window, motioned for her to roll it down. She hesitated for a moment, then rolled it down enough to hear what he was saying.
He had to yell over the noise of the rain, "If you pop the hood I'll take a look."
She said, "No thank you, I'll just call a wrecker, it's probably the starter I should have replaced instead of repaired last month."
Wary but trying to be polite, she unlocked the door and motioned for him to come in and sit in the car. The umbrella was no match for the force and direction of the rain, he too was soaked through, sat down, puddling in her front seat. Once she realized water was literally pouring off him, she started to laugh. They both laughed. He made some comment about what a sight they must make.
She tried her cell-phone to call the wrecker, nothing happened. He offered his, nothing happened. He suggested they go one row back to his car, they couldn't get any wetter. He would take her to a service station or home or where ever she wanted to go. She just wanted to go home, just too wet, tired and upset to care about the fact a stranger had made the offer.
Once they got out the car, the rain stopped. They took a leisurely walk back to his car only a few feet away. The moment they were safely inside, the rain started again. They both laughed and she noticed his laugh also seemed a bit harsh and on edge. He had tossed his umbrella into the back seat and off they drove to her place. They hardly spoke except for chitchat on the short drive. It kept raining on and off as they drove, she thought they had hit a lucky break as they pulled into the drive and it had stopped raining. The moment they opened the doors it gushed again, pushing them back into the car. He reached back and grabbed the umbrella and gave it to her.
He asked." May I come inside and use your phone to make a call?"
She said. "Sure if it's working."
Then he insisted, "Use the umbrella and I'll make a run for the door."
Once they got inside the house she got a better look at the umbrella, it was one of those old fashioned huge black things with a gnarly hooked handle and a long spike tip on the top. She set it off to the side of the front door and they walked into the kitchen to the left of the front door. Her little house was arranged with the kitchen and what went for a great room on one side and a short hallway to the right with two small bedrooms and one bath in between. A door led off from the kitchen into the attached garage and on the back wall of the great room was a French door leading into a backyard.
She had turned on all the lights from the switch panel at the front entrance as they moved into the kitchen. Just as she handed him the phone, the lights went out. They both just stood there for a moment, simultaneously cursing under their collective breath. He tried the phone anyway, as expected hearing nothing. At that moment, she thanked God for a gas stove and offered her rescuer tea. While the water boiled she set up candles in strategic places to offer more light and took one candle with her as she went to the bathroom for towels and robes. She always had several robes handy that had been various holiday or birthday gifts over the years.
She stepped inside the laundry room to change out of her wet clothes into the robe and showed him the bathroom to do the same. Along with the gas stove, she also had a gas dryer, so she offered to dry his wet clothes while they had tea and waited for the storm to abate. They moved to the sofa as the tea steeped in the pot she placed on the table, now somewhat artfully arranged with a small portion of her extensive collection of candles. En route to the sofa he picked up his umbrella, which she thought was rather odd. He made a comment about the temperamental nature of the storm to which she agreed just as the wind picked up and howled around the house. The rain beat hard enough against the windows to rattle the panes and for a moment it seemed the storm itself sought entrance into her home.
There was another sound, barely perceptible over the din of nature, but a sound she recognized, having heard it before. A sound of china on china, the gentle rattling of cup upon saucer. It took her moment to realize it was not only her own cup and saucer making the noise but his too. They were both more affected by the ferocity of the storm than their awkward social exchange portrayed.
In an attempt to make light of the situation she asked him about the umbrella. It was only the very noticeable, even in candlelight, change in his expression that made her regret her question. He stuttered out a response that it had been a gift from a friend. His continuing not to speak was as much sufficient in its silence and as it was mildly alarming from his expression.
Then she asked, " Would you care for another cup of tea?" As a way of breeching the silence.
To which he mumbled, "I need to go."
As they stood and headed to the laundry room to check the state of his clothes, the lights began to flicker on and off. There was a tremendous noise as a tree in the backyard crashed to the ground, the branches slamming into the back door. The house was then filled with the sounds of shattering glass and her screams as she realized what had happened as the wind whipped in stilling all the lit candles. Then total darkness once again.
Slowly she made her way back into the kitchen for a flashlight, leaving him standing there in the dark, umbrella in hand. She was able to make a quick survey of the damage to the back door of her house and it did not appear to be as bad as she would have thought. The major problem being the broken glass allowing in the rain. Carefully stepping through the mess she made her way back to him as the lights came back on. She had been looking down at her feet watching her step as she walked, not really seeing him until she was almost directly in front of him. In the full light of the room, she saw an absolute terror stricken expression on his face, he had raised the closed umbrella over his head like a weapon as if to strike her down. Instead he shoved her aside with his free hand and dashed forward swatting at something moving towards them on the floor from the now glassless French door.
She never got a clear view of whatever it was, she was just thankful that all his efforts made it go back outside from whence it came. He turned around, red faced and out of breath as much from terror as from exertion.
