Falling Rain - Chapter 2

‘Hey, Mum,’ I called as I let myself through the back door, ‘I’m home,’
There was no answer, which was strange. Mum didn’t work on Wednesdays. She should have been at home. I shrugged and moved towards the stairs. As I started to go up them, I heard my name come from my parents’ room, the door of which was slightly ajar. I paused, listening hard. As I listened, the only words I could distinguish were, ‘not coping’ and ‘worried about her’. I also heard my father’s voice, which was also very strange. Dad didn’t usually come home early for anything except an emergency. I frowned and started back down the stairs. I walked softly up to their bedroom door and paused there. I heard Mum and Dad talking clearly now.
‘I don’t know what to do to help her, Derek,’ Mum said, ‘She just seems to push me away whenever I try.’
‘Maybe she just needs a little space for the moment. Most teenagers don’t like their parents trying to force themselves on them.’ Dad replied. ‘Why don’t you let her work things out on her own for a bit?’
‘I’m afraid that if I do, she’ll fall apart completely. And I think I’m justified in that, you saw what happened at breakfast!’
‘Katherine, you need to start acting normally around Lisa. I know she’s fragile at the moment, but having you avoid any mention of Heather and having you walking on eggshells around her is not going to help! She’s going to start thinking that Heather is a banned topic or something. And she needs to talk about it, not avoid anything to do with that night.’ Dad said. He sounded pretty impatient.
‘I’m sorry, Derek. I just hate seeing Lisa so messed up. I don’t know what to do to help her!’ Leaning closer, I heard the muffled sounds of sobbing.
Having heard enough, I crept back towards the stairs. Calling out louder this time, I said,
‘Mum! I’m home!’ The dull murmurs I could still hear stopped. Mum emerged out of her room, her eyes only slightly bloodshot.
‘Hi, honey,’ she said to me, ‘How was the beach?’
‘It was great, thanks,’ I answered. She smiled.
‘That’s good. And how was Greg?’
I watched her face carefully as I said my next words.
‘He’s fine. He really helped me work through some things.’ Mum’s face seemed to crumple slightly as these words sunk in. She seemed to compose herself well, though, as she said,
‘That’s excellent, honey. I’m glad you’re talking about it, at least.’
I narrowed my eyes at her. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ I demanded. Mum looked at me, frowning.
‘Don’t use that tone of voice with me, Lisa. I merely meant that you have never talked about, about…that night with anyone in this house. I was expressing my delight over this step in the healing process.’
I noted that the tone of voice comment had returned, perhaps as a result of her talk with Dad. I scowled and started up the stairs again. Turning again, I asked,
‘Was that Dad’s voice I heard before?’
Mum nodded and wearily sank into a chair. ‘Yes, he came home early today. His meeting finished early.’
I shrugged and kept moving up the stairs, calling as I went,
‘Hi, Dad!’ His muffled reply sounded from the bedroom.
Opening my bedroom door, I sank down onto my bad and covered my face with my pillow. Mum was really starting to get on my nerves these days. It was funny; the things that annoyed me now were the little things that have never bugged me in the past. I supposed it was because I was “fragile” these days, as a result of the accident. I had been getting this a lot, even with my friends from school. I should be glad that they have stuck by me, even when I have been horrible to them. Mind you, we have all been really broken up by Heather’s death. We never knew how much we relied on her until she was gone. That’s another thing I feel guilty about. I never let Heather know how much she really meant to me. Without her, I felt…lost.
The knocking on my bedroom door interrupted my thoughts. I sat up and told whomever it was to come in. The doorknob turned and the door opened to reveal Dad standing on the threshold. He came into my room and closed the door behind him. Sitting down next to me on the bed, he said,
‘Are you feeling—‘
But before he could finish I interrupted him.
‘I’m fine, Dad. Is there anything else?’
Dad frowned. ‘Yes, actually. It’s about Mum.’
I scowled. ‘I don’t need a lecture right now, Dad.’ I said, ‘Can we just skip this part, and go right to the part where I learn my lesson and you leave?’ As soon as I said this, I regretted it. Dad’s eyes flashed.
‘I’m sorry you don’t want me here, Lisa, but I’m going to stay for a few more minutes,’ he said, ‘Mum has been really upset by what happened to you. She really wants to help you, but she’s not sure how.’
‘Ok…so?’ I said. Dad sighed.
‘Let me rephrase that. You pushing her away every time she tries to help you has upset Mum. All she wants is to help you.’
I looked at him. ‘Have you been speaking to Greg lately?’ I asked, amazed.
‘No, why?’ Dad answered.
‘’That’s almost exactly what Greg said to me this morning.’ I said. Dad smiled.
‘Damn, our plan has been found out! We’ve been conspiring to make you feel better!’ Dad lifted and dropped his eyebrows knowingly. I laughed.
‘Seriously, though, Dad, I’m sorry I upset Mum, but this is something I need to work out on my own.’
‘I understand that you think that, honey, but this is a big thing to work through. You don’t have to do everything on your own.’
‘I’m not on my own,’ I said, ‘Greg is helping me, and Charlotte.’
‘And I think that’s what Mum is most upset about,’ Dad said, ‘She wants to help you, but you refuse her and take on others.’
I frowned. ‘Sorry, Dad, but that’s really screwed up. Shouldn’t she be glad that I am accepting help at all, instead of getting jealous, like a freaking primary school kid?’
‘Lisa…’ Dad said warningly.
‘Sorry, sorry. That was uncalled for, I guess. But she should be glad.’
‘I didn’t say it was right, Lisa. I’m just telling you how she is feeling,’ said Dad, ‘Try and look at it from her perspective.’ With that, he got up and left my room, leaving me to think about what he had said. And I did. Think about it, I mean. I could see where he was coming from. I just didn’t get why Mum was so upset that I wasn’t asking her for help. I still thought that she should be glad that I am getting help from someone, at least. Still mulling this over, I pushed myself off my bed and reluctantly returned to my unfinished maths assignment lying on my desk.

*****

After a very “productive” hour, I heard the muffled sounds of raised voices coming from downstairs. Putting down my pencil, I went to my door and looked out curiously. At first I couldn’t distinguish any words, but as I walked down a few more stairs I could hear them more clearly. Mum and Dad were having another rather heated discussion about me.
‘Katherine, she doesn’t want your help! Can’t you just accept that?’ Dad said.
‘I’m her mother, Derek! I’m supposed to be helping her!’
‘I’m her parent too, Katherine! You aren’t the only person in this house that cares about her!’
‘Then why aren’t you supporting me, if you want to help her so bad?’ Mum was almost screaming now.
‘I am helping her! I’m giving her space to breathe!’
Mum didn’t reply, but I heard sobbing and then a door slamming. I walked slowly down the stairs and looked over at Dad. He had sunk down into a chair and had his face in his hands.
‘Dad?’ I said softly. He looked up and I saw moisture glistening in his eyes. ‘I don’t want you and Mum to fight over this. I’m not really that screwed up yet.’
Dad smiled shakily. ‘I know, honey. Mum is just very emotional at the moment.’
I hugged Dad and turned to go back to my room. ‘Lisa?’ I heard. ‘She just wants to help. You know that, right?’
I turned. ‘Yeah, Dad. I know.’

*****

I was lying awake in bed that night at around 11:30 when I heard the front door squeak open. I swung my legs over the side of my bed and padded to my door. I walked softly down the stairs and saw Mum sitting on the couch, rubbing her feet. She gave a start when she saw me standing on the bottom stair in my pyjamas.
‘Lisa, honey, it’s late. Go back to bed.’ she said quietly. I stood there, staring at her.
‘I know what the time is, Mum.’ I said coldly.
‘Lisa, honey, I’m so sorry. We must have terrified you when we were screaming at each other like that.’
‘Maybe so, but not half as much you terrified Dad when you didn’t come home for dinner.’
Mum looked stricken.
‘I suppose you didn’t think of that, did you? It didn’t bother you that Dad was about to file a freaking missing persons report? That Rebecca and I had to stop him going down to the police station? And I suppose it doesn’t matter that Dad is out there right now looking for you?’
Mum had been hiding her face in her hands during my speech, but at the last question, she lifted her head, like it was a rock, and she looked terrible.
‘He’s out there looking for me?’ she whispered. I nodded and her eyes welled up with tears. She stood up and walked shakily to the phone. I watched her dialling Dad’s number and hold the phone to her ear, her back to me. We both gave a start when the familiar sound of the Nokia tune filled the room. We looked around for the source of the sound and saw Dad’s phone lying on the kitchen table. Slowly, Mum lowered the phone from her ear and hung up. The resulting silence was deadening.
‘So what are you going to do now?’ I asked. Mum lowered herself down to the couch again, the tears in her eyes spilling over. I couldn’t watch her shoulders shaking like that without my harsh exterior being melted. I ran over to her and hugged her. She leant against me, her whole body shaking with the force of her sobs. We sat like that for at least ten minutes.

We were both startled by the sound of the front door opening again and Mum jumped up. Dad walked in and froze as he saw Mum standing waiting for him. He stared at her as though he had never met her before in his life, before turning and walking away from her.
‘Derek…’ Mum said pleadingly. Dad turned and gave her one look before walking to their bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him. Mum gave a barely audible sob and sank back down on the couch again.
‘Mum?’ I asked, but she simply waved me away, with the obvious meaning – she wanted me to leave. I walked over to the stairs and paused. I looked back at her from the foot of the stairs. She had curled up into a tiny ball with her back to me. I sighed and continued up the stairs. All that followed me was my mother’s muffled sobs.

******

I woke the next morning with a strange feeling of dread. I took a second to realise why I was feeling so upset, but it came back to me soon enough. Swinging my legs over the edge of my bed, I walked to my door and looked out. I couldn’t hear anyone moving around, so I walked silently down the stairs. When I reached the bottom, I saw Mum curled up in the foetal position next to her bedroom door, apparently asleep. I crept past her to get to the kitchen, but she jerked awake as I walked past.
‘Oh, Lisa, it’s you.’ she said. I raised my eyebrows.
‘Expecting someone else?’ I said. Mum smiled resignedly.
‘I thought it might be Derek,’ she said. I shook my head.
‘Dad would have already left for work, Mum,’ I said, ‘It’s already nearly eight.’
‘Oh,’ was all she said. I rolled my eyes and opened the fridge. Mum stood up behind me and opened her bedroom door. It was unlocked, which proved what I had said to be true. I turned to see her collapse on the bed. I sighed and closed the fridge. It was only then that I saw the note attached to the door. It was from Dad, and it said,
Will be home late, have a meeting in Brisbane. Don’t wait up.
No word of apology or any reference to Mum at all. I stared at it for a while, before Rebecca came down the stairs, rubbing her eyes.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked. I turned to face her.
‘This note is from Dad,’ I said, ‘Read it.’ I passed her the note, and she read it quickly.
‘So?’ she asked, ‘What’s the problem?’
I stared at her. ‘So, Rebecca, the problem is that Dad didn’t apologise to Mum,’ I said, getting strangely worked up. ‘What if they never make up? They’ll get divorced and – and...’
‘Relax, Lisa. Mum and Dad aren’t going to get divorced after 23 years just because of, well—‘
‘Me.’ I said.
‘Well, yes. But they aren’t going to get divorced, Lisa.’
I still wasn’t sure, but I let the matter go. Rebecca shoved me aside to get to the fridge. I scowled at her back, and then stomped up the stairs to my room.

*******

Later on, I was still in my room doing my maths, when Mum came up to my open door and said,
‘Hi, honey. Is it all right if I come in?’
I looked up.
‘Sure,’ I said. Mum walked in and sat on the edge of my bed.
‘So, Lisa, I’ve been wanting a private word, actually.’
‘Have you made up with Dad?’ I interrupted.
‘Well, no, but I will tonight, I promise,’ said Mum, ‘But, Lisa, I wanted to talk to you about, well, about Heather.’ I frowned.
‘Why do you need to talk about Heather?’
‘No, honey, I think you need to talk about Heather.’
‘Me? I do talk about Heather.’
‘Lisa, you have hardly said a word about her since the accident. Frankly, I’m worried.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, ‘I have talked about Heather, to Greg and Charlotte.’
Mum frowned. ‘Yes, but—‘
‘Why do I need to talk about her with you?’ I asked fiercely.
‘I can help you, Lisa.’ Mum cried, ‘I have been around a lot longer than you, and I know how these things work.’
‘What do you know? You’ve never lost one of your best friends!’ I shouted, suddenly becoming angry.
Mum’s voice suddenly took on a low and dangerous tone.
‘I do know, Lisa. My best friend was killed when he was dragged underneath a car on his bike. It was the worst day of my life. I do know some things.’
I was taken aback. Mum had never spoken about anything like this before.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, meaning it. Mum wiped her eyes and reverted to the original subject.
‘But the only way I got through that time was by talking. Talking, Lisa! I never stopped talking about Peter, and all the great things that he did.’
‘Mum, I appreciate what you’ve told me, I really do. But—‘
‘Well, if you won’t talk to me, why don’t you talk to a counsellor? They can—‘
I snapped. ‘No, Mum. I am not going to a counsellor! Why can’t you just accept that I am talking about Heather to other people?’ I shouted, ‘I can get through this without help, yours or otherwise!’
Mum stood up. ‘I’m sorry you feel that way, Lisa.’ she said, and walked out of the room, slowly and sedately. I was shaking with rage, but I somehow couldn’t put my finger on why I was so angry. This wasn’t like me at all. I never used to fly off the handle like this. But I definitely did not want to see a counsellor. To me, that would be proving to myself that I really was crazy.