After the Rain

by Renee Carlino

“You’re my only child. This is the only time I will get to have this moment. Before you walk up on that stage and officially become an MD, I want you to know that I’m proud of you. Even if you take all of this away—the white coat, the degrees—even if you take it all away, that doesn’t matter because I’m proud of who you are in here.”

They say that home is where the heart is. Mine was always right there, tucked between Jake’s big arms.

After cleaning the cabin, I put on a thick jacket, baseball cap, and sunglasses and headed for the door. “I’m going to get milk and bread and cheese for sandwiches. Is there anything else you want?” He didn’t answer me, which wasn’t unusual. At the bottom of the ramp, I looked up to the window and saw that he was watching me. I love you, I mouthed to him. I love you, he mouthed back. I let a smile touch my lips before turning toward my truck. When I reached for the handle, I heard the explosive, ringing sound of a gunshot. I whipped back toward our cabin and saw, through the window, Jake slumped over in his chair. It was a cold January morning when my husband, Jake McCrea, put a pistol in his mouth and pulled the trigger, taking his own life just seconds after he had told me he loved me. I couldn’t fix him. There were no healing powers in my hands. He hadn’t physically taken me with him, as he had threatened to, but he took what was left of my heart, ending any semblance of life inside of me. At nineteen, I became cold and hard and looked forward to the end of my bleak existence.

“Anyway, Avelina is still with us. She’s a hard worker, that girl, but she keeps to herself.” I remembered hearing a story of a man who killed himself on the ranch. I was pretty sure that the woman my aunt spoke of was the man’s wife, but I knew very little other than that. “Avelina is the woman who . . .” “Yes.” She stared ahead and sighed. “So young to be a widow. It’s been four years since she lost Jake.” My aunt shook her head. “Like I said, she keeps to herself, but she’ll help you with the horses. She’s extremely skilled with the animals. Not so skilled with humans anymore, though.”

“That’s a nice sound,” he said in a low voice. “What?” “Your laugh.” “Oh, thank you,” I said as my nerves swirled in my stomach.

“It’s not the shape of anything that exists in nature. Why would a fish want to eat this?” I looked up, blinking. The thought hadn’t occurred to me. There were lures of all shapes and sizes. “Well, it’s kind of the shape of a heart, and that exists in nature.” “A real heart isn’t heart-shaped.” He shot me a cocksure grin. “It’s more cone-shaped, sort of.”

I had never met a doctor who resembled a real, flawed person with insecurities, but more than that, I had never met a doctor who was so terribly good-looking and didn’t know it.

The carefree look Nate wore reminded me of a feeling I used to know but had been absent for so long. It was the first time in a long time that I wished for that feeling back.

The heart will actually beat a few times once it is outside of the body, and even though I’m aware of the scientific reason, I wondered in that moment, holding Ava by the stream, if maybe our hearts really could be broken by shattered love or tragedy.

“What?” I said with an edge in my tone. His smug shit was getting on my nerves. “Nothing, it’s just, you’re so interested in that bitch. I have no fucking clue why.” I straightened and leaned my forearm on the top of the shovel. “Why do you think she’s a bitch?” “She just is. She doesn’t give anyone the time of day.” He continued shoveling while he talked. It was obvious that Caleb had some resentment toward her; he was more than just irritated at her indifference. “You know her story, right?” I asked. “Yeah, her husband blew his head off. Probably couldn’t fuckin’ stand living with her anymore.” He stood, mimicked a gun with his finger under his chin, and mimicked the sound of a gunshot. “You’re a dick, man.” “What? Why don’t you say that to my face?” “I just did.” Why in the world I would antagonize a three-hundred-pound man who towered over my six-foot frame, I’ll never know. Some deep-seated sense of chivalry surfaced in me. “You better mind your business.” In an utterly calm and matter-of-fact voice, I said, “How long have you worked here shoveling shit, my friend?” “Long enough to know you’re barking up the wrong tree. She won’t even make eye contact with me, so your chances are slim.” “So that’s what this is really about? What, you came on to her? Maybe you’re not her type.” He threw the shovel effortlessly across the corral into a pile of tools. “And you are, faggot?” “Neanderthal,” I shot back. “Pussy,” he said, walking away. “Maybe in another three thousand years...

Apparently there’s something in the Montana water that instantly transforms an agnostic, Starbucks-loving, vegetarian pacifist into a God-and-country-loving protector of all women and cattle.

“But you were right about one thing.” We had finally controlled our hysterics and were seated with our backs against the cabin. “What’s that?” “He definitely has a small . . . you know what.” Even in the dark I could see her wide grin. “Yes, he most definitely has little-dick syndrome,” I said in a pseudo-serious doctor voice. “Did you learn that in medical school?” “It’s weird. For once in my life I don’t want to think about medical school, or being a doctor or surgery or hospitals. This is nice. Sitting here with you. I’ve never seen this many stars.” She looked up. “Yes, they dulled for me after I lost Jake.” She looked up at me. “Do you know what I mean?” I nodded. “But they seem a bit brighter tonight.”

“I’m not this guy. You make me feel . . .” He searched for the words. “You make me feel. That’s it. I haven’t felt anything for anyone like this.” “What do you feel?” “I feel like I want to be around you all the time and . . . I just . . . I’ve been thinking a lot lately.” “About what?” “About your mouth.” Before I knew what was happening, I kissed him instantly.

“You thinkin’ about Jake?” “Yes.” I bit my lip hard to numb the pain in my heart. “You still love Jake?” “No . . . I hate him. I hate him so much, and that tears me apart because maybe I always hated him.” I began to cry. “Maybe I always hated him and that’s why he killed himself because I couldn’t love him enough.”

“Jake was a cowboy through and through, not like your California boys.” I shook my head but she went on quickly. “He was raised by a mean drunk and neglectful mother. His only sense of self-worth came from his work and his love for you.” Both of us were sniffling and trying to ward off more tears. “You were more than any man could ask for. Jake knew you loved him but he thought he couldn’t love you back. He didn’t know how, and that’s what killed him. He was dead long before he fired that gun.” “He wouldn’t have been in that chair if it wasn’t for me.” “Do you think he would have let that horse trample anyone? It didn’t matter that it was you standing there. What you should remember are all the good times. The times when he was tender with you. He was so gentle but strong. I used to tell Dale that Jake treated you like a delicate little flower. You can hate him all you want but you know it’s only what he did in the end, when he was a shell of a man, that you hate. Have some sympathy for his soul, Ava.” “He haunts me.” “I think it’s just the bad memories that haunt you. He’s with the Lord now, and if he’s watching you he only wants what’s best for you. I know that about Jake. He would want you to be happy. I think he thought the only way he could find redemption for his soul is if he let you be. He had put you through enough.”

“You like to read?” “Yes.” “What do you like to read?” “Everything.” I stood right behind him and when he turned, we were face-to-face. “Everything?” “Except romance.”

“Forget about him.” My eyes shot open. I was shocked by the harshness of his statement. “What are you saying? How could I forget about him? He was my husband and I loved him. I still love him.” Anyway, what happened to taking it slow? He dropped his head in dejection. When he glanced back up, he looked absolutely shattered. Yet he remained undeterred in his pleas. “He killed himself, Ava. He left you behind.” The passionate heat I felt before boiled over into anger. When he arched his eyebrows as if he wanted a response, I lost it. “I remember! I remember every moment before and every heart-shattering moment after. You don’t because you weren’t there. You don’t know what it feels like to watch your soul leave your body and drive away in the back of a coroner’s van. Don’t ever tell me to forget. I will never forget. I don’t know how I’ll ever be normal again when I still see his dead body on my floor every time I walk through that door. What’s worse is that I’m the reason he did it. Did you know that, Nate?” He took a step back but I didn’t let up. “Did you know that Jake would be alive right now, walking around like the rest of us, if it weren’t for me? Did you know that? Huh?” He didn’t respond, just cringed like the sound of my voice pained him. I let out a heavy breath. “I can never forget,” I said and then collapsed to the floor, dropped my head in my hands, and began sobbing.

When you lose faith in love, you lose a sense of who you are. I

“Look at you.” I waved my hand toward his finely muscled body. “And you’re a doctor. You’d have no problem finding someone.” “You’re someone, and I’m having a hell of a hard time.”

I decided that every man should be required to take an anatomy class before he’s allowed to go anywhere near a woman. Nate’s many years studying the human body were not lost on me.

“There’s something about her. I feel like I breathe deeper around her. Everything seems a little brighter. That sounds lame, I know.” “No, it doesn’t. And I’m sure it’s not just something.”

“I’m really sorry, Nate, but I have to believe there was a way, otherwise what good are we?” “Sometimes there’s not. Sometimes there’s no reasonable explanation why shit happens. We can take all the precautions, go through our lives being terrified of everything, and still there’s a chance that we’ll walk out our front door and get hit by a stray bullet meant for someone else. Life is random, and surgery . . .” I let out a hard breath. “Surgery is not exact. It’s not a science. It’s a fucking set of procedures that will hopefully work. Sometimes they don’t.”

Ava didn’t have to stop loving Jake or mourning him to move on and live her life, just the same way that one mistake would not define my career, even if the consequences were great.

“Things don’t make a place feel like home. People do.”

“I’m scared, Nate.” “What are you scared of?” “Not being good enough.”

“When your heart’s against my chest, I feel like I’m alive.” My throat ached with emotion. For some reason, the way he said it made it seem like such a raw admission, almost heavier than I love you. “Me too.” “Never leave,” he whispered. Why would I?

“Fear is mainly what’s holding me back. I need to learn to find a balance so that I don’t fear life without someone.” “That’s not a very romantic sentiment.” “I had stars in my eyes before. I idealized what Jake and I had. I was only with him for a year and a half. We were only just getting to know each other. I let him pull me in so much that I didn’t think I could go on without him.” “Isn’t that how you’re supposed to feel?” “Listen to you. You’re suddenly the expert on love.” “I know a few things when it comes to matters of the heart.” “Well, Dr. Meyers, do tell.” “Love is selfless. The other night I proved to you how selfish I could be, but I won’t make that mistake again. I think I know what needs to be done, but first you have to tell me where you want to be.” “I want to be with you.” I tightened my grip around her. “Then we’ll go back.” “No, you’ll go back. I’m going to stay with my mom for a while and take classes here. That’s my decision.”