Healing Rain Read Free

asking me about it, she simply said, “Well, is your name appropriate for your personality?”
    I looked up at her and blinked. I didn’t hesitate before I answered, and this time, I was completely honest. “Of course. Out of all the weather that exists, there is pretty much nothing more depressing than rain. Rain ruins everything. Picnics, hiking, going to the park, taking the dog for a walk. As much as I hate my name because it’s so weird and makes me sound like some kind of hippie, I really don’t think there could be a more appropriate name for my personality. You know, you better be careful if you and your husband have a kid. That’s a lot of pressure to pick a good name.”
    For a second, she tilted her head and looked at me sadly. Then she sighed. “Well, our hour is up. I really hope I see you again on Thursday. I would honestly like to get to know you, Rain.”
    I stood up, surprised that it had already been a whole hour, and surprised that she did not have a response for what I had just said. Not that I really knew what I expected her to say – did I think she would reassure me and tell me that I was not depressing or that I did not ruin everything? She couldn’t lie, and she didn’t really know me enough to argue with me. From what she knew of my background, she probably knew that I was right. I walked to the door without saying a word. Slowly I opened it and started to walk through.
    Before I was all the way out of her office, I turned around and looked at her one last time. She was watching me closely. I looked up at the clock and said, “Well, I suppose I can try it again on Thursday. Same time?”
    She smiled and said, “Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”
    â€œNot as much as I am,” I said in my faux enthusiastic voice before I walked out the door and out onto the street toward our apartment.

 
    Chapter Two
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    It was only about a ten minute walk to our apartment from Dr. Hope’s office, even though they were sort of on opposite sides of the town. That showed how small this town really was. It was hard to get used to a place this tiny; it was such a big change from where I grew up. We were surrounded by so much to do in St. Louis, Missouri – big movie theatres, multiple shopping malls, concert venues, an uncountable number of restaurants featuring any kind of food you could ever possibly want – you name it, the Lou had it. On the walk across Ridgewater, Illinois, population 1,121 people, I saw the local grocery store, a couple of gas stations, and one of the very few restaurants in the entire town. The restaurants were small, mom-and-pop-type places where you could always find the old farmer men sitting at their usual tables, eating their usual pieces of pie or cobbler and discussing their crops. My mom happened to work as a waitress in one of those restaurants, a small pizza and pasta place called Roxano’s Restaurant. It was right in the middle of the town, right next to the only stoplight in the whole town . Crazy, right? She seemed to like the job just fine, but she would come home looking exhausted after her shifts and didn’t have the energy to cook or clean very often anymore. I ended up doing most of the household duties, but strangely, I didn’t mind. It gave me something to do, for one thing, but it was also nice to feel needed around the house.
    I came home to find Tyler, my seven-year-old brother, watching TV in the living room. “Hey, Ty. Mom at work?” I asked him, looking at the clock.
    â€œYeah, she just left. You just missed her,” he said, not really looking at me. He was too focused on whatever he was watching.
    â€œYou had any dinner yet?” I asked him, already knowing what the answer would be.
    â€œNo. Mom was running late so she didn’t have time to fix anything. She told me to make a peanut butter sandwich,” he replied, still not turning away from the