Rain

Streaks of rain slide down the window. The children stare blankly at the T.V. On occasion they would look out the window with the hopes of seeing a cease in this torrential rain. I am at a loss. How can I brighten the faces of my darling kids, I thought. Suddenly the light bulb clicks. Childhood memories of playing in the rain come to the forefront of my mind. I rise from the couch and walk to the door. The stubborn door requires a good tug before it comes open. A rush of warm summer air comes in carrying the scent of rain. The children look up at me. Nicholai, 10, and Mala, 8, have questioning looks in their eyes. I smile before I step outside. I nimbly make my way off the porch. I spread my arms wide to embrace the cool sensation of the summer rain. I turn back to the house. Mala and Nicholai stand together at the doorway. Uncertainty is clear in their young faces. I give a reassuring smile as I beckon them to come outside.
Mala is the first to respond. She steps onto the porch then hesitates. I watch as she turns back to her brother. I wait in the downpour as they talk. Mala grabs Nicholai’s hand. She doesn’t want to continue this adventure without him. Together they cross the porch. In unison they take their first steps on the soaked grass. Looks of wonder light up their faces. Mala spreads out her arms and spins in circles. Her angelic laughter reaches my ears and I cannot help but laugh with her. Nicholai is a little hesitant but soon joins his sister. And then I find myself spinning along with them. Our combined laughter fills the air.
But it does not last. A car pulls into the driveway. Headlights glare threateningly at us. Fear rushes into me as my children huddle close, seeking refuge behind me. As I consider telling the kids to run to the house, the stranger steps out of the car. At first I’m scared but realization smacks me in the head. My husband smiles brightly at me. The children disengage their hands from around my legs. They spread open their wet arms and run into their fathers outstretched arms. He pulls them close and showers them with kisses regardless of the fact that they are soaking wet. They are telling him of our fun in the rain. He smiles and listens attentively. Still the insistent rain falls around us. I smile as I watch the children cling to their father’s hands. They are pulling him closer to me. Finally they reach me. My husband and I stand face-to-face. His large hand reaches out to brush my damp dark brown curls out of my face. His left hand cups my chin as he tilts my head up to look at him. He smiles before he kisses me lightly on the lips. He pulls away with a sigh.
“Playing in the rain sounds like fun but don’t you think you should go inside and dry off?” my husband, Alexander, asks our children. The kids nod vigorously to convey that they don’t want to go in yet. But he won’t take no for an answer. He picks them both up in his arms and carries them into the house. I follow slowly behind them with a slight smile playing across my lips. When I finally get in the house the kids are in their rooms changing. I turn and look outside once more at the beauty of the torrential rain. A pair of arms wrap around my waist. “What are you doing Justine?” Alex whispers in my ear.
“Enjoying the beauty of the rain is all,” I say before I close the door and trade the beauty of playing in the rain for the beauty of my family.