“Evening, ladies.” Randi greeted them with a smile. “I called your friend. He’ll see you home.”
Ada May giggled. “Evening, Micah. So glad you could join us. Would you like a glass of wine?” She lifted the bottle and refilled her glass to the rim.
“Yes, do have a drink if you’re allowed,” Beth Ann added. “You’ve already seen us home once today. There’s really no need to worry about us. I’m still sober enough to drive.”
Ada May downed her glass and tried to disguise a burp by coughing. She smiled up at Micah with half-closed eyes and said, “I do love apricots.” Suddenly her head hit the desk with a thud. She was out cold.
Beth Ann shook her finger at her sleeping sister. “She’s such an embarrassment. Can’t hold her liquor any better than our father could.”
Micah knelt in front of Beth Ann. “Would you like me to help you get her home? I won’t mind. I’m already here.”
“You’re a fine man.” Beth Ann nodded, almost falling out of her chair. “I may need some assistance. Ada May is no light load when she’s out.”
A few minutes later, Micah pulled his car around to the back door. Randi guided Beth Ann. As the younger of the two old maids slid into the back seat, she noticed her clothes had gotten rained on and proceeded to take them off. Micah helped the hairy bartender named Frankie half carry, half drag Ada May to the car. Beth Ann had been accurate. Ada May was no light load when she was out cold.
Micah put her into the front seat and turned to Randi, who stood across the car from him. “I’m not driving home alone with one sister out cold and the other stripping in the back seat. You’ve got to take pity on me.”
He must have looked helpless, because Randi shoved wet hair from her face and gave in. “All right, coward.” She glanced at the man standing in the doorway. “Frankie, close up for me, would you?”
The man nodded and disappeared.
When she looked back at Micah, she laughed. “I’ll go along with you, but I got to tell you, Mr. Parker, you disappoint me. I would have thought you man enough to handle two women at the same time.”
He didn’t acknowledge her humor as he held the door open. “You ride in the back with the stripper.”
She splashed through the mud and climbed in.
Halfway home, Ada May woke up enough to vomit. Twice.
Getting the sisters inside and in bed proved to be a greater chore than Micah could have imagined. Several times, he thanked Randi for coming along. He couldn’t have done it without her. Ada May insisted on brushing her teeth before turning in, but she wasn’t stable enough on her feet to stand. They all crowded into the tiny bathroom. Micah held her up, his arms locked just below her ample breasts. Randi helped her hit her mouth with the toothbrush.
By the time they finished, Randi and he were both laughing so hard, Micah couldn’t catch his breath. They collapsed on a worn couch in the small cluttered living room.
“You think you had a problem with Ada May.” Randi slugged him with one of the dozen pillows surrounding them. “You should have tried to get Beth Ann’s support hose off.”
Micah surrendered. “You win. I haven’t put a drunk to bed since my college days, and if I don’t do it again in this lifetime it will be too soon.” He stood and offered his hand to help her up. They walked out the front door and onto an equally cluttered porch.
Two lawn chairs had been pushed close with a TV tray table in between them. An old, handmade backgammon board rested open on the table. Randi picked up a piece of the game. “Ada May told me tonight that the last thing they do every night is play one game. Whoever loses has to turn out the lights. Sometimes they argue over who won.” Randi stared at Micah. “On those nights, the lights stay on till morning.”
She tossed the chip to him. He placed it back on the board. “Stubborn women,” he said more to himself than her.
“That’s why it surprises me they were so shaken by what happened today.”
He had no answer. For a few minutes they both watched a car pass down the rain-swollen street.
Randi took a long breath. “I love the rain.” She held her hand out to touch a tiny waterfall sliding off the roof.
Micah raised his hand, almost touching her hair. Moisture sparkled in it like silver glitter.
She glanced at him with eyes the green of a dense forest. “What?”
“Your hair gets even curlier when it’s damp.” He hadn’t meant to touch it, but the mass was so beautiful, all shiny with red and brown highlights. He let the tips of his fingers brush one curl.
“It’s natural.” She winked. “All over.”
Micah turned his face to the rain. She’d done it again, he thought. Treating him like just any person—like just any man. It felt good and frightening at the same time. Since he’d buried Amy, he thought of himself as a father, a minister, a friend. He’d set all other definitions aside. Now, to be accepted for being nothing more than simply human overwhelmed him. He felt free somehow.
Randi elbowed him. “How about I clean up their place a little? No one wants to wake up with a hangover and have to face all the empty bottles sitting around.”
“I’ll help.”
“No way.” She spread her hand out across his chest stopping him from following her. “I think you should find a hose and wash out your car before you take me home. It’s too far a drive to hold my breath.”
Micah glanced out in the rain. “I’ll get wet.”
“I’m not riding back with that smell.”
“I’ll get wet,” he repeated.
Randi patted his shoulder. “You’ll dry.” Then, without warning, she shoved him into the rain.
Micah stumbled off the porch, laughing. He told himself he wasn’t attracted to her or any woman, but it felt great to have someone touch him. Just touch him. Not friendly handshakes or polite hugs, but an honest touch.
He dug around in the flower beds until he found the garden hose rolled up neatly beside a rosebush. He did his best to avoid stepping on any of the rosebushes. Everyone in town knew how the sisters loved their roses.
Turning the water on full force, he dragged the hose to his car and pulled out the mats. He hardly noticed the rain. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d been so alive. Maybe it was the excitement of this morning, or the way Randi talked to him, or maybe it was just time to start living again. He didn’t know. He didn’t care. It just felt good.
By the time he got the hose rolled back up in the mud beside the rosebush, Randi stood on the porch ready to go. He motioned for her to climb in and was surprised at how she walked slowly to the car and turned her face to the rain, as if it didn’t bother her at all.
When she closed her door, he said, “You really do like the rain.”
Randi shrugged. “I’ve been rained on a lot. It doesn’t scare me anymore.”
They drove back to the bar in silence. He thought about what she’d said, and what she hadn’t said.
The parking lot was dark when they got to the bar. The sisters’ van was the only one out front. Micah didn’t want this strange time to end, but had no idea what to say. He knew he wasn’t likely to see Randi again after tonight.
“You want to come in for breakfast?” She lifted the doorknob. “I always eat when the night’s over, then I can sleep until noon without waking up starving.”
He hadn’t had a bite since before the committee meeting that morning. “I’d love to, if you