Absence

2: Rain

Did you know that when someone has a baby after they've lost one it's called a 'Rainbow Baby' or some people refer to it/them as a 'Sunshine Baby'. What Rae wanted to know was where did that leave the lost baby, what should we call them? Following the logic of the Rainbow baby name, the way Rae saw it you were only left with one choice. A Rain Baby. The loss akin to a rainy day considering that the living child after it was a rainbow. For some reason that enraged her, almost like that child was a bad day, a blip in an almost perfect sky or life. Something negative. She could never think of her baby as a bad thing even if the loss of her own had caused her so much pain and it had never lived to meet her. She'd lost them so early in fact they never even had a heartbeat, all she saw in the doctor's office was an empty sac. An absence where a life should be. Ironically it was raining heavily the day she was sent by a GP to the emergency room. The day she found out that her baby was gone, that they were a 'rain baby'. Before that, she'd always loved the rain. 

While she was lost in such thoughts staring at the grey sky outside, hypnotised by the melodic drops of rain hitting the window a nudge on her shoulder snapped her out of her reverie and she was brought back to the real world to the sight of two compassionate hazel eyes. 

'Hey dreamer we're closing now, do you want anything else before I do?' 

Spencer looked at her expectantly, with that same gaze of curiosity and compassion he always greeted her with. He always took extra care with her when she got lost on rainy days like today. Always coaxing her back to reality gently and making sure she was ready to go. Unlike the part time bitch Sharon who passive-aggressively slammed mugs and plates near her and then would glare at her until she lost patience and snapped at her to get out. At least Spencer didn't make her flinch and hate herself when she got home and overanalyze her behaviour that day for 45 minutes, wondering what was so unlikable about her to upset Sharon but somehow failing to fully comprehend that Sharon didn't give two fucks about anyone other than Spencer.

He was her favourite cousin even before he gave her a job in the coffee shop. He had been the only person in their family to step up and help her get back on her feet after her second stint in rehab. Her parents and brother had helped her the first time round but gave up on her quickly when she relapsed, they never even asked her why she did. They just assumed she was selfish and not even trying to stay sober. Her friends and boyfriend felt the same. It made her bitter and hateful of other people. She didn't even think that Spencer would pick up the phone when she called him at her lowest point from the shelter, every other contact she'd tried had either hung up or blocked her number. But Spencer had taken the time to listen to her, came to pick her up and gave her a room to stay in and a job until she found her own place. Rae didn't know any of this of course, believing instead that she had caused Sharon's misery by her mere presence. 

She had a bad habit of assuming that she was the root cause of problems in other peoples lives even if she had minimal interaction with them. She was vaguely aware of this problem but couldn't help it. Self deprecation and self hate felt natural at this point, almost like a regular hobby. The fact was that Sharon was a fucked up bitch with a few scraps of soul left and Rae was too damaged to see herself as more than an inconvenience, if not an outright negative destructive influence like an omen or a plague. What neither woman knew was that they had a lot more in common than they thought and that if they ever got passed outward appearances and had a real conversation, they could even be friends. 

'No Spencer, I'll be on my way thank you' she mumbled with a bow of her head. For some reason even though she found Spencer easier to talk to than any of the 5-7 people she interacted with on a regular basis, he always reduced her to a mumbling bashful maid speaking to her master. She always ended up blushing, being overly polite and using ancient expressions her grandmother didn't even use. It was mortifying but she couldn't help it. It was the Spencer Effect after all. She'd grown somewhat accustomed to it.