It comes to her, in the dusk of time before Kayla leaves. She is knee-deep in velvety towels, as her daughter flutters around, radiating jitters. I’m going back to school.

Exotic visions have been storming her mind, of foster children and radical exploits, but they recede now. Even the blistering scent of divorce, dangerous and intoxicating, slinks away.

College. She stacks cotton dishtowels. She will work hard, keep busy, and then become something fancy at the end, with a title and a posh salary.

Jodie takes a deep breath. You will not say anything to Kayla now. She is getting married in two weeks and is not interested!

But Kayla demands to know why she’s so quiet. Suddenly, she’s saying, “Nothing, really… I just decided that I’m going back to school.”

“What?” Kayla folds her arms, amused. “Why in the world did you decide that now?”

Jodie waves her hand. “I feel like there’s so much I can do,” she says glibly. “I’m very excited. Believe me, this is a good idea.”

Kayla chuckles, half-hearted. “Um… Ma. It’s not so simple.”

Jodie frowns. “Excuse me, but I’m perfectly capable of learning. Don’t worry, you’ll be safely married and out of the house before I do anything too embarrassing.”

Three months in and she’s avoiding Levi more than ever before.

Not in a good way, Jodie thinks, irritated, holding up a peach lace top to the light. Is that a stain? She flings the sweater onto her bed and rakes through her closet again. When she goes to Levi’s people’s weddings, she can’t just wear her fur jumper or her green ruffle dress. No, she needs to look sufficiently boring, marching beside her husband in low-heeled pumps while her closet is full of fun and color.

She finally settles on a knit peplum sweater. Levi has been probing about school — You know, we did put a lot of money into this and I really think you’re making a big mistake, blah, blah, blah… She’s good at offering a breezy, “It’s wonderful.” And it isn’t even a lie.

Jodie created a cozy bubble for herself — deep yellow walls, pictures of greenery, a pale wood desk for her computer — out of the basement room that was home to rusty bikes and garbage. She had cleared it — all right, Levi really did most of it, while she anxiously sorted through piles of trash to make sure he wasn’t throwing out something too special. Jodie loves to hunker down in her new office after dance classes, tilt back her swivel chair, sip coffee with whip, and admire the lush paintings. Only, eventually, she had to sit up and turn on her computer to start her course, and… well.

Jodie frowns at her reflection. It isn’t that bad, not really, she tells herself. Too bad she’d forgotten how she hadn’t quite loved school. She sighs, wishes she could drown her computer and waltz away with her degree.

She opens her velvet jewelry box, fingers bumping over the glittering stones. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, she thinks, suddenly angry. So it didn’t work out, so what! She could quit, think of a new plan.

Levi sticks his head in the doorway. “Jodie? Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll warm up the car.”

Resentment scathes her throat. “Thanks,” she mumbles. If not for Levi, if not for his raised eyebrows and knowing looks. Her fingers clench over the soft rimmed velvet of her jewelry box, a gift from Levi when Kayla got married. It is solid and smart, like him, precise, color-coded compartments for every sort of ornament. Levi had told her she would feel better, lighter, standing by the mirror each morning, deftly picking out a ring or pendant or whatever, instead of fumbling around.

Jodie casts a rueful glance at the eight plush velvet sections, overflowing with a stringy mess of jewels and chains. She sighs. Levi had meant to be kind, probably. And now he is waiting for her, a 20-minute car ride in which he will demand to hear about her expensive ideas and then he will get his treat! He’ll hear that he was right! That college was a stupid idea!

Tension makes her fingers jerky. She snatches up her studded hoops, the ones Levi asked if they were for Purim. They happen to be beautiful, she thinks, sniffing.

In the car, the air is muggy with steam. Levi eases the Camry out of the driveway. “So… how’s college?”

“Great.”

Levi sighs and says nothing.

Jodie purses her lips, eyes flicking back and forth with the swishing wipers. Dusk settles gloomy around them, a light drizzle squelching the energy of the city into a sodden mess. She loves rain, not this dreary kind, but crashing rain. When the children were babies, they’d gone dancing in the storms. It’s been a while, though…with no little kids, what pretext did she have for cavorting in the rain? Levi exhales through his teeth; she feels compelled to say something.

“Look, it’s nice. I go down there every day. I’m studying.”

Levi stops at a red light, looks at her strangely before turning back to the wheel. He opens his mouth, closes it.

“So you want to drop it, eh?”

Something hot pops in Jodie’s stomach. “What makes you say that? I’m actually doing well.”

Levi turns to look at her again. “Really?”

“Yes. Really.”

He doesn’t believe me. “I’m well on my way… and I’m starting a career.”

“Really?” he says again. “Career? You already know what you’re going for?”

“Yes!” She stops for a moment, thinks furiously. “A nursing assistant,” she blurts out. “I’m going to become a nursing assistant.”

“That’s… big,” Levi says at last, a touch of wonder in his voice. “You mean it seriously? You thought about this?”

“For sure,” Jodie returns smoothly. Her heart thunders in her ears. What am I doing to myself? I was going to tell him that I’m leaving school. What did I just do?

“Wow.”

Jodie licks her lips. The admiration in her husband’s voice makes her heart tickle. Never mind, I’ll figure it out. I think I’m really becoming a nursing assistant. I like the idea.

“You know,” Levi says slowly, thinking, “it might be worth your while to take a shot at nursing — shadow a hospital nurse for a few weeks, before you go through all that schooling. That way you know if it’s really for you.”

“Yeah!” Jodie smiles, clapping her hands together. She thinks of little carts full of life-giving vials and gadgets, of herself, decked in white and smiles, dispensing comfort and love. “I’d like that. You think it’s possible?”

Levi drums his fingers on the wheel. “It’s definitely not standard. But… you know Robert Marcus, my big client? He’s on LEED’s board of directors. Maybe I can pull some strings for you.”

Anxiety pricks her cloud of cozy rightness. She squashes it down, firmly.

“Oooh, that would be amazing,” Jodie sighs, happy.

Swishing around in her white coat, Jodie feels the rightness in her bones. Funny how it hasn’t dawned on her until now that nursing is her calling. True, she had to go through a grueling orientation, watching a stern-faced manager with bad eyebrows go on about rules and vaccinations. But now she’s here and she knows she owes it to Levi for finagling this shadowing stint for her. She tucks away a guilty smile.

Betsie, the nurse she’s shadowing, pauses in the doorway of Room 13A. “Get to know Megan,” she tells Jodie in a throaty whisper. “Our resident crank.”

Jodie hears a crackly voice from inside. “Not you again.”

“Good morning, Megan,” Betsie returns smoothly. “This is Jodie. She’ll be with us over the next few weeks.”

Jodie beams.

Megan sniffs. “Yes, well.” She picks up a nail file from a little kit in her tray. “You’ve interrupted me.”

Betsie reaches for the blood pressure cuff.

Megan is clearly annoyed, but allows Betsie to have her arm. “I’m feeling very sick today,” she complains.

Jodie smirks; she thinks the old lady looks robust enough, thick white hair grazing her shoulders and clear, determined eyes. “You look beautiful,” she offers. “You must’ve taken good care of your hair all these years.”

Megan looks at her crossly but concedes with a nod.

From the hallway, the chatter of orderlies as they squeak their carts past them, leaving behind the nauseous smell of porridge and cheese.

“What do you like to do?” Jodie asks, as Betsie scribbles in Megan’s charts.

Megan doesn’t deign to respond.

Jodie hears more about Megan as the day wanes; Megan needs more painkillers, Megan’s pillow was stolen, Megan will not put up with her roommate’s nose-blowing, she needs a new room! Jodie likes her.

She drops by during her lunch breaks, armed with newspaper clippings on beauty care and politics. Megan is cross but grateful, and turns hostess; she saves her chocolate for Jodie, asks the nurse for drinks.

Jodie pretends this can go on forever, chatting with the nurses, reading to Megan, making believe the degree isn’t necessary. Though Andrea, the nurse manager, makes it pretty clear she doesn’t enjoy volunteers on her floor. Jodie isn’t sure why she can’t stand the woman; she’s just always there, spouting rules as if she could think of nothing more fun.

On her last day, Jodie watches Betsie prepare black coffee in the nurses’ lounge. Outside, the wind moans, but it’s warm in the lounge, bright lights and spirited voices, and something wistful pokes her in the chest. “I know,” she tells her, “I’ll come by at night sometimes, to read to Megan. And you must put some sugar into that.”

“No sugar, no, no.” Betsie brings her steaming brew to the table. “Would be real nice if you come and read to her. Better clear it with Andrea, though.”

Jodie frowns. “I’ll go find her right now.”

Sneaking in after visiting hours is quite easy, in the end.

The hallways are clear. Jodie holds her bag tight and slips down the hall.

“I’m here,” Jodie calls out in a low voice, pecks Megan on the cheek.

Megan shoos her hand away but looks pleased. “What world news did you bring this time?”

Jodie laughs, places a square of chocolate on Megan’s tray, and fumbles in her oversized bag for her newspaper. “Holistic skin care, how about that.” She sighs lightly and flops into a chair.

She’s still annoyed at the nurse manager’s sullen refusal to allow her in past visiting hours. Andrea had counted on her fingers eight reasons why she couldn’t have Jodie come in; all egoistic nonsense.

Half an hour later, Jodie waves, checks for clear coasts, sails down the hallway… and nearly bumps into Andrea, coming out of a room, looking perfectly awful in khaki scrubs, graying brown hair in a clip, and foaming at the mouth.

Er.

“Jodie!” Andrea’s voice comes out slightly pitched. “Nice to see you again. But we’re past visiting hours. What are you doing here?”

“I, uh, well. I had to come.”

Andrea speaks into her radio, then turns on her. “You were forbidden on this floor at this hour.”

Jodie wants to wave her hand, explain, but Andrea’s eyes are black ice. So this isn’t about rules. I’ve hurt her pride.

The double doors down the hall beep, open to admit two enormous swarthy security guards.

“Escort this woman downstairs,” Andrea says, her voice clipped. “I will speak to Dr. Marcus about researching volunteers in the future.” She marches off.

Two passing nurses and a doctor squint at Jodie. Shame twists around her neck. She looks up at the humongous men. “It’s okay, I can head out myself.”

“Sorry, ma’am. Orders,” the first guy says, looking somewhat amused.

Jodie keeps her face down as she walks, fingers ice on her flaming cheeks. All she can think of is Levi. Andrea, Dr. Marcus, Levi.

He is going to kill me.

She stands by the window, watching the rain crash. Inside, she feels cracked, raw, aching for a nod, an assurance.

Right. As if Levi can give her that. She squeezes her eyes shut but Levi materializes beneath her eyelids, scornful and furious, shaking his head.

At once, her shame fades and she goes stiff with rage.

This is not a normal way to live. If he can’t accept me — and my mistakes — then maybe we’re not meant to live together!

Jodie presses her sweaty forehead to the cool windowpane. She needs to taste some of this delicious rain, she needs to get out.

She is wrapped in her taupe raincoat, halfway into her rubber boots, when she hears Levi’s car outside. She freezes.

Then she flings off her rain gear. She’d taken the kids dancing in the rain many times, but she could never explain to Levi that she wanted to dance, too. She hears Levi sloshing in, the squeaking and rustle as he removes his boots and coat. Something hardens in her gut, ice and steel. She meets him in the foyer.

“Oh, Jodie. Hi.”

Jodie keeps her voice calm. “I was asked to leave the hospital.”

Levi pauses in the middle of removing his boot. “Eh?”

“Yes.” She swallows, clenches her fists behind her back. “I visited Megan after hours. The nurse manager was furious and asked me to leave. She’s going to speak to Robert Marcus.” She stands, rigid, and waits, watches her husband carefully.

Levi’s eyes flash. “Ridiculous.” Then he sighs.

Jodie waits, breathless. One more minute and he’ll begin attacking her.

He rubs his forehead, weary. “I’m wet and freezing. I need a tea and then we’ll decide on your next step.”

She hurries after him into the kitchen.

“…we have to figure what to do now,” Levi is saying. He fumbles for a mug. Jodie had accidentally cracked his old mug this morning; she slips him her own, bright like the rainbow. “How to make it up to Dr. Marcus. We don’t want this to affect your resume.”

The clatter and splat of raindrops against the window, a growl of thunder.

She nods, somewhat limp. He’s trying to fix my mess for me. For an aching moment, she thinks of warm eyes. She blinks, quickly, turns to the fridge and pretends to rummage. He’s fixing my mess in the way he knows how.

She bends for the box of cherry tomatoes and brings it to the sink, sneaking glances at Levi, who’s blowing at his tea and cleaning his glasses. He’s always been doing this, Jodie realizes. He’s always shared his gifts, helped her manage appointments and stay on top of the kids’ homework and stepped in for the things she never got straight.

She pops a cherry tomato half in her mouth. It strikes her then, as the kitchen momentarily folds in a blast of white lightning. Did I ever share my gifts with him?

“Wow, what weather,” Levi says, in the distance.

Jodie smiles but her chest is tight and she wants to cry. She thinks of youth and dreams; she had been rebuffed, and she hastily drew away, afraid. She looks at her husband again, his simplicity and straightforwardness chalked into his lean nose, his firmly set jaw. She swallows. He needed a wife who could teach him to appreciate her gifts.

Jodie is crying now. She turns back to the sink, rubs her eyes vigorously, hopes Levi doesn’t see. Like humor and fun and simple joys. Like dancing and laughing hard. Like walking in the rain.

She draws shaky breath. She waits for a moment, unsure, then pads off to the foyer. She returns, in raincoat and boots, brandishing her umbrella.

Levi blinks.

Jodie laughs, but her teeth chatter. “I’m going for a walk. I love the rain. It’s special, and free, and fun, and… and it washes away everything that was.” She stops, blushing, terrified. This isn’t coming out right. “I… Do you want to come along?”

He stares. He’s only just come in, shed his boots.

She swallows. “So I’ll just be a few minutes.”

The roar of the storm washes over her. She breathes deeply, tilts her face to the murky skies. For a moment, she turns back to the house.

Levi is there, watching from the window.

Like he’s always been.

She lifts her hand and waves.

(Originally featured in Family First Issue 545)