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Every Time It Rains
by
Margaret Marr
Rain assaulted the windshield of Christina Miller’s car. The wipers swished back and forth, slinging water in all directions. They were
useless against the heavy downpour. She couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of the hood.
She glanced at the gas gauge, and bit her lip. "Come on, baby, you can make it." The gas light lit up, blinked, then stayed on. Why did
she always tempt fate by riding on empty? Thunder grumbled overhead. She glanced up and out the windshield. Rain as thick as a
curtain fell from the sky. Doesn’t look like it’s gonna let up, she thought.
Halfway up a steep gravel road the car began to splutter. "Oh, no! Not now! Please, just a little further!" The car gave one last shudder
then died. She eased the car backward to the shoulder, rolled it to a stop, and banged her head on the steering wheel. After a few
moments, she blew out an exasperated breath.
"You couldn’t do this one thing for me, could you?" She didn’t know if she was talking to the car, God, or herself. She finally decided it was
all three.
As time ticked by, she listened to the rain drum a loud beat on the roof of the car. After a few more minutes, she took a deep breath,
opened the door, and stepped out into the downpour. "Blasted rain!" Within seconds the cold rain plastered her black T-shirt against
her skin. "I must have the worst luck in the world," she grumbled, as she trudged up the road. Wrapping her arms snug against her body,
she attempted to halt the cold shudders that racked her body. "Oh, please let there
be a store or something close by," she pleaded at the muddy gravel road underneath her feet.
A pick-up truck blew past her without even slowing down. Dirty water, kicked up by the tires after they bounced into a mud-hole,
splattered her pants. Perhaps, whoever it was hadn’t seen her. Christina moved further off the road. She didn’t want to add
sideswiped by a vehicle to her list of woes.
Two miles later she arrived at a gas station slash garage. The rain still fell, although not as heavily as before. She pushed the door to
the store open. No one was behind the counter. A quick glance of the aisles turned up empty except for racks of potato chips, candy
bars, and canned goods. Back out in the rain, she hurried over to the garage.
A white truck was parked inside, its hood up and various tools scattered around it. "Hello? Anybody here?" she called, and peered
around the garage. A shiver shook her body as goosebumps sprang up on her skin.
A man rolled out from under the truck. "Nothing but us grease-monkeys."
It was corny but cute, Christina decided, after getting her eyeful of the man. His smile catapulted her pulse somewhere beyond the
stars. He was the Marlboro man in a mechanic’s uniform. Instead of a cigarette and a horse, he had a wrench and a 4 X 4 pick-up. She
wished like heck that she didn’t resemble a half-drowned cat. She smoothed a wet strand of hair behind her ear.
The guy climbed to his feet then wiped his hands on a greasy rag he produced from his back pocket. "Tom Myers." He stuck out a
semi-clean hand. "Can I help you with something?" A curious look lit up his brown eyes. The sexy beard stubble on his face drove her to
the edge of distraction, and she almost forgot why she needed his help.
"Christina Miller." She placed her hand in his, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. Heat shot up her arm. "I need some gas," she blurted out.
Tom shifted his eyes to the gas pumps, but didn’t let go of her hand.
"My car is two miles back that way." She reluctantly slid her hand out of his, and hitched a thumb over her shoulder.
"I don’t think the hose will stretch that far," he joked. When he smiled his whole face lit up.
Christina laughed. "A gallon jug should do the trick." Another clap of thunder exploded across the sky, causing Christina to jump.
"Don’t you just love a thunder storm?" Tom asked as he rummaged around in a junk-heap until he found a clean, empty jug. He carried it
to the covered pumps and filled it for her.
Grateful that she was no longer pounded by the relentless rain she smiled. "Yeah, if I’m at home wrapped up in a blanket on the front
porch swing," Christina answered.
"I’d offer you a ride back, but Dad has my truck out on a job." He paused, looked at her through his thick lashes, and grinned.
Her heart flip-flopped against her ribs. "You only have one vehicle?" Gosh, he was adorable!
"Usually, yeah. We take turns driving to work. Saves on gas since it’s shot through the roof lately."
"That’s why I don’t fill my tank up as often as I should," she said, mostly to herself.
"The least I can do is carry it to your car for you," he offered.
"Oh, no, you don’t have to do that. It’s still raining pretty hard out there. No sense in both of us getting wet."
"I insist." He screwed the lid on the milk jug of gas.
"Really, it’s not necessary." Had the rain washed away most of her brain? She would like nothing better than for him to walk her back to
her car.
"Aww, come on, let me be your knight in shining…err…greasy uniform." He swept a hand down the front of his shirt as if he
thought he could wipe away the grease like magic.
Christina laughed, again. "Okay, I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your knightly duties." A blush crept up her neck at the double
meaning behind those words. I’ve read way too many medieval romances, she thought. She cleared her throat, and glanced down at
her once white shoes that were now stained with water and mud. Those would never come clean, but she found she didn’t really care.
It was worth ruining a pair of shoes to meet someone like Tom.
Once back out in the rain, Christina tried to hug herself warm, but the cold wiggled through her body, and caused goose bumps to pop
up all over her flesh.
Tom stopped and slung his arms wide. One side was weighed down with the gallon jug of gas. He tilted his head back and stuck out his
tongue. "Man, this feels great!" he yelled. "Woo hoo! I love rain!"
Christina smiled and stretched out her arms, tilted her head back, and closed her eyes. The cold rain pelted off her face in little stinging
blows. Funny, when she stopped concentrating on getting warm she didn’t feel quite so cold. Water trickled from her hair, and slid down
the slope of her nose. She opened her eyes and grinned at Tom. That had felt good.
When they approached a mud-hole a mischievous grin spread across Tom’s face. He jumped in it, splashing muddy water all over
Christina.
She gasped. "You’re in for it now!" She jumped in with both feet, spraying dirty water everywhere.
They raced to the next mud-hole, playing like two children until they collapsed against each other in laughter. Tom slid his arm around her
waist, and spun her around. The gallon jug of gas bumped her leg.
"Oops, sorry. I don’t want to spill gas all over you," Tom said, and brushed at her jeans.
She looked into brown eyes full of merriment and mischief. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I’d forgotten how much fun
the rain could be. Thank you," she said.
"It was my pleasure, ma’am."
They arrived at her car, much too soon for Christina’s liking. Tom poured the gas in the tank. Ever so often he’d look her way and
smile. Her heart knocked against her chest each time he looked at her.
Once the jug was empty, Tom screwed the gas cap back on, and turned to Christina. "All done," he said.
"Need a lift back to the station?" she asked, hopefully.
"I’m awfully dirty and wet," he answered.
"I figure since I’m gonna get the driver’s seat dirty you might as well do the same for the passenger’s seat. At least they’ll match, then."
"Well, if you insist." He grinned and got in.
Back at the station, Christina scribbled on a piece of paper. "Here is my phone number just in case you ever get the urge to play in the
rain again."
Tom took the white slip of paper from her. "You can count on it." He stuck the scrap of paper in the pocket of his garage uniform.
Christina drove away with a smile on her face. Even if he never called, she’d remember him every time it rained.
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