Cryin' in the Rain: Conclusion

"But the funniest part is that my sister recently met someone and got engaged. She is in love for real with a man who loves her back so you have no chance. But even if she was still single, she wouldn't fuck you. So you mixed up your facts a bit. Dylan wouldn't have sex with Abby. Abby wouldn't have sex with you." I laughed again.

He was becoming more and more upset then.

"And what will you have when I'm gone?" he asked. "He left you too. I don't know what he ever saw in you. All you are is a trailer trash bitch without a trailer. When Dylan and I hook back up, you'll be just another unpleasant memory. I'll bet you'll have a tingle between your legs every time you think about us though."

"So now you can admit it, huh?" I asked. "You finally see that without Dylan, you're worthless. He's carried you through your whole life. You're nothing. And he's already started that business you're always talking about. He did it without you. He finally realized that you were just holding him back. And you're right about the tingle between my legs. That was all I ever felt with you, just barely a t..."

After that I woke up in the hospital. Apparently even Jimmy was incapable of hurting his own child. He had called 911 and then called my next-door neighbor to come and watch Pattigail. He might've ignored and hated her, but he never hurt her. He called my mother and had her come and get Pattigail. He then left before an ambulance arrived because they sometimes brought the police on domestic calls.

I stayed awake long enough to talk to my mother and endure her recriminating looks. I then fell back asleep either from the throbbing in my head or the noxious concoction of drugs in the IV they attached to my wrist.

They kept waking me up and checking my eyes. I believe they suspected a concussion and didn't want me to sleep too deeply. Over the next few days, I had a succession of visitors and each of them had their own agenda or approach. My dad wanted me to talk to the police and put Jimmy in jail. My mom wanted me to try counseling.

My sister's visit was interesting.

"I think you're doing this and putting up with all of this shit out of guilt," she said. "You think that if you punish yourself hard enough and for long enough, Dylan will come back and tell you it's enough. Gret, what you did to him was terrible. You hurt him pretty badly. However, he's over it now. He's happy again. He has that whole car thing going. So you can stop punishing yourself."

Hearing that he was happy, cheered me up. It meant that it was only a matter of time before he'd decide to come home, if not for me, then maybe for Jimmy.

However, the visit that really affected my life the most was from Jimmy's mother. As usual, Dylan's mother was with her.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked. "Dylan is making money hand over fist."

"What does that have to do with me?" I asked.

"It means you don't have to go through this alone," said Dylan's mother.

"I'm fine," I said.

"We know you're tough," said Jimmy's mother.

"But we're worried about our granddaughter," said Dylan's mother. I knew the two of them like their sons shared everything, but sharing the grandparenting duties for my daughter was a new one. But then things were weird all over. It sometimes seemed as if Dylan had gotten my family in our break up and left me Jimmy.

"She has no idea," said Dylan's mom. "I told you she hadn't figured it out yet."

"Give her the book," said Jimmy's mom.

Dylan's mom handed me an old, worn, photo album. I started looking through the pictures. There were a lot of pictures of Jimmy and Dylan together. And then there were lots of baby pictures.

"Holy shit," I said. "Jimmy certainly was a cute baby. Too bad he became such an asshole. In some of these pictures, he looks exactly like Pattigail." They looked at each other and smiled.

"That's Dylan," they said at the exact same time.

"You need to get a DNA test," said one of them. "This is going to be ugly, and you're going to need proof," said the other.

The thudding of my heart only verified what the pictures showed me. If they were right, I had wasted more than a year of my life, closer to two years in fact. A year of my daughter's life and the full nine months of my pregnancy. A pregnancy that could have been a dream instead of a night mare.

"Why the hell did you two wait this long to tell me?" I asked.

"We told you the day after she was born," said Jimmy's mom. "Remember when we came to see you?"

"I thought you were telling me that I should get Dylan to apologize for not being there," I said. After all the pain I had endured, there was suddenly light at the end of the tunnel.

The very next day when my mom brought Pattigail to see me, I had one of the lab techs swab her cheek for me. It only took a couple of days for him to come back with her DNA profile. Comparing it to Jimmy's which they had in the file from his two previous hospital stays there, was easy. I couldn't believe it. Jimmy was not my daughter's father.

Dylan's mom brought me a comb that he had used that had a couple of strands of his hair on it. A week later, I had the proof I needed. I was so happy; I was about to burst.

It meant that I no longer needed Jimmy at all. I had a very powerful new position to leverage my way back into Dylan's life. I knew Dylan. He might not be ready to forgive me yet. However, he would never forsake his child. And once he learned that to get her, he had to have me; we'd be back together.

That was another reason why I needed Jimmy to stay out of jail. I wanted him to know that he had lost and possibly even be there, so I could walk out on him, the way he had me.

As I thought about it, it made perfect sense. When we were together, Dylan couldn't get enough of me. We had sex all the time. I could even remember the night I had him throw away my birth control pills. It was only a few weeks later that Jimmy showed up. Dylan and I had made love the night before Jimmy first called us. And he had come home from the bar after his meeting with Jimmy and nailed me three times. Now that I understand the nature of the meeting at the bar. I think Dylan had been trying to prove to me that he found me attractive and sexy no matter what Jimmy had said.

I hadn't known anything about that, but I had given myself to him as always and enjoyed it as usual. He had even wanted me again the next morning before he went off to work. But I made the mistake of telling him he'd have to wait until he got home that evening. Knowing Dylan, when he walked back into our home that evening all he'd probably been thinking about was getting back inside of me. That is until he noticed Jimmy there.

Dylan had probably already gotten me pregnant, actually since we never made love again, he had definitely done it, and I had the DNA to prove it.

I was ready to face the world. I had a plan. As soon as I was released, I started to act on it. One way or another, Dylan would be mine again. In plan A, I would contact Dylan and tell him that I had something he really needed to know. Then he could either come and speak to me about it, or I would send him the DNA reports. If he refused to talk to me, I would simply go through the courts. I didn't care about any money. I just wanted Dylan back in my life. We were still married so all he'd have to do is start seeing his daughter. I knew once he saw her, he would never leave her, even if it meant taking me back.

Once we were together I would win him back. And this time I would be the wife he deserved. I had learned my lesson.

The only things I had to deal with were Jimmy and how to get the message to Dylan. I knew from talking to my neighbors that Jimmy was back in my apartment. On the day that I left the hospital, I bought an equalizer from one of the guys in my neighborhood who always claimed he could get anything for a price.

The first few days that I was home, Jimmy and I avoided each other, so I didn't have a problem. In fact, my biggest setback came from an unexpected source. I got Abby to come over so I could float my idea past her. It was a good thing that Jimmy left while she was there because the cat might've been let out of the bag.

I didn't tell Abby why I needed it. I just asked her to contact Dylan for me. She abjectly refused.

"I won't do it," she said. "I know you've been through hell. But you'll have to get someone else to rescue you. You hurt him too badly, and I won't betray him. Not for you or anyone else. He's like a brother to me. Ask someone else."

"But this is important information," I said. "He needs to know this."

"He's happy again, Gret," she said. "I won't mess that up. Besides, you're too late. Everyone except you already knows this. He's found someone else."

Her words hit me like a cannonball in my chest. My life was truly ruined now. I had ruined everything and there was no chance to fix it. I could only blame myself. I also blamed everyone who had withheld the fact that he had moved on. And I really blamed the mothers. They should have forced me to do something the day my daughter was born instead of dropping vague hints.

Long after Abby had left, I sat thinking about it. I wasn't a very good mother that night. And the next day when I went back to work I was worse. Jimmy tried to make small talk; he even apologized to me in his own way. However, I didn't bite.

Finally, it struck me. My plan would still work. I was sure that if forced to choose between some woman and his child, he would pick Pattigail. I just needed to put him into that position. I decided to go through the weakest link in his protective wall. My mother would tell me. Not because she didn't love Dylan, but because she loved me too.

But even she wouldn't give him a message for me. But she did give me Dylan's home phone number. I called and left him a message. I told him that it was very important that I see him or speak to him. I had important information that he needed to know. I gave him a number where I could be reached.

I sat by the phone then waiting for him to call me back. Three hours later, my phone rang. It wasn't Dylan. There was a woman on the phone. She asked for me and I told her that I was unavailable, but I would take a message. She asked me to let Gretchen know that Sarah had called.

As soon as I heard her name ice water went through my veins. I knew who she was. She was Dylan's first love, first lover, first everything. Sarah, like me had been forced to choose between them and had been far stronger than I was. If she was back with Dylan, I had no shot. I slammed the phone down in anger.

I turned as soon as I heard the laughter. Jimmy was standing behind me.

"Tried to go behind my back, huh?" he laughed. "Now look who's out of it. All I have to do is call Sarah back. She won't be able to resist me. Just like you couldn't."

I quickly deleted the message. He couldn't call anyone without the number.

I went into my room and just started crying. I looked at myself in the mirror and realized that Jimmy had been right. I looked like hell. The woman that Dylan had fallen in love with was gone. Time and too many bad experiences had changed me. There were too many lines on my face and too many wrinkles. Just the expression on my face was no longer the open and friendly young woman I had once been. Besides that, my pale skin just looked sallow and unhealthy. I looked more like my mother's sister than her daughter.

I just threw in the towel. I was just tired of fighting. I was tired of losing. I was tired of living. I went to work because I needed the money, but even my coworkers had noticed that I was pretty much phoning it in. I had the blues. I think I knew how Dylan felt that night when he came over for our talk. I remember the song he had been playing when his car pulled up. That Mustang always did have a hell of a sound system. The song was called Cryin' in the Rain. I wished then that I could cry too, but it was sunny out.

The biggest shock to me came when I stayed home from work a couple of days; I'd just been too depressed to go in. I opened the door and found myself staring at a beautiful blond woman. She had on a business suit with a skirt and was chewing gum.

"Are you Gretchen?" she asked.

"Yep," I said with no energy. "Let me guess; you're a process server, right?"

"Nope," she said. "I'm Sarah; Dylan never got your message. I came up here to handle this myself. I won't let you hurt him again."

She opened her briefcase and pulled out a bunch of papers. "What do I have to do to get you to divorce him? I have three or four ways we can do this. Number one, you've hurt him enough. You could sign the papers out of the goodness of your heart. Or I could give you a bunch of money to sign them."

"Forget it," I said.

She looked at me and tilted her head. Then she took off her beautiful, stylish high heels. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"I tried to be nice to you," she said. "I even offered you money. So I'm gonna kick your boney little a..."

"Wait a minute," I said. "You love him that much?" She just nodded and glared at me.

"I've been through hell," I began.

"You sure look it," she quipped.

"Maybe! It's time for me just to pass him down to the next one," I said.

"Honey, you got that all wrong," she said. "I'm not the next one. I'm the original. You were just someone to take my place until we got back together."

"Take a look at this," I said. I showed her the DNA reports. Then I explained them to her. For the first time since I saw her, she wavered.

"He'll pay generous child support in exchange for liberal visitation rights," she said. "But I will not step aside. I won't go away. He loves me now. He doesn't love you anymore."

"I know that," I said. "I knew my chance was over as soon as I saw you. But, I'll sign the papers. And it won't cost you a dime."

She looked at me suspiciously. "What do I have to do?" she asked. I took her into the back room. She looked at my sleeping daughter.

"She's adorable," she cooed.

"Sarah, you love Dylan a lot," I said. "I can tell. Do you think you could love our daughter too?"

"Of course," she said. "Do you want us to take care of her for a while?"

"Something like that," I said. I packed a small suitcase full of my daughter's favorite toys and another full of her clothes and diapers and her favorite sippy cups. I let Sarah hold her for a while so Pattigail could get used to her. When she woke up from her afternoon nap, I had Sarah play with her for a while. Then I signed the papers and told Sarah it was time for them to leave. It was near the time for Jimmy to get home, and I didn't want him to see Sarah. Who knew what could happen?

I kissed my daughter again and wished for her to have a happy life. Then I watched as Sarah put her in her car carrier and left.

The words from that song were playing inside my head now, just as they must've been for Dylan as he walked into the house he had slaved and bought for me, only to find that I had betrayed him again.

"I know where I'm going, there's no hope for absolution,"

"I can't seem to separate the good times from the bad."

Just as I started to relax, about an hour later, the door opened and a smiling, smirking Jimmy walked in.

He must've noticed all the baby things that Sarah hadn't taken with her. Because he looked at me and actually asked, for once.

"Where's your brat," he asked.

"Headed off to be with her father," I spat.

"I'm not watching that fucking brat," he said. "And you can't make me."

"Jimmy, knowing how stupid you are, this is going to be tough," I said. "Try to keep up. I showed him, Pattigail's DNA strip. Then I showed him his own. Then I showed him the report confirming that he was not the father."

"God damn it. I told you that you were trailer trash," he chirped happily. "Your ass belongs on Jerry Springer. You were cheating on both of us. That's a good thing. It means that not only can you not get me for child support. But, Dylan and I have something in common. You ran around on both of us. Is there anyone we know who hasn't tapped that dead pussy?"

"I'm not done," I said. I showed him Dylan's DNA and then showed him the comparison that proved there was a 99.9999% chance that Dylan was Pattigail's father.

"Wait, you sent my daughter to Dylan?" he asked. "This was our chance you dumb bitch. We should have gone with her." Then he looked at me.

"Who took her?" he asked.

"Sarah did," I smiled. "I also signed Dylan's divorce papers. I don't care what happens to me anymore. My baby will live a happy life with people who know how to love her. She'll have three sets of grandparents who love her. And Dylan and Sarah will probably have kids to give her brothers and sisters. Knowing them there won't be any step children, they'll treat her the same as the rest. Shit, with Abby getting married, she'll have cousins to play with too."

"You fucked it all up," he screamed.

"Nope, I fucked you all up," I laughed. "I just gave my daughter a chance for a happy life. After all, it was my mistake thinking a guy like you with a tiny dick, and an even tinier heart could knock me up."

He swung at me, and I grit my teeth and took the blow. I had to make it look good.

It didn't even hurt that bad. I guess I was getting used to it. "That didn't even hurt," I yelled. "You hit like a girl," I said spitting out blood.

"Let me have another shot then bitch," he said, moving towards me.

"Not this time," I said. I pulled my equalizer from my pocket and shot him five times.

Less than twenty minutes later, I was sitting on my sofa as they zipped the black vinyl bag that contained Jimmy, closed. He'd been as the story goes really upset whenever he and Dylan were different. He was so upset that he got the thought that he got poor Sarah to sleep with Dylan, so they could be the same.

He was probably really pissed down there in Hell looking up and knowing that he, and Dylan would be separated now forever. He probably blamed me for that too.

"Can I ask you a couple more questions, ma'am?" said the detective? I just sat there smiling and drinking a cup of tea.

"I know the two of you had a history of violent incidents," he said. "And according to our records, he put you in the hospital on several occasions. Why did you shoot him...?"

"Because I was in fear for my life," I said. "And I was tired of being a punching bag!"

"I understand that," said the detective. "But one bullet would have been enough to stop him. Especially hitting him in the face and chest like you did from point blank range. Why did you shoot him five times?"

"Because there were no more bullets in the gun," I said.

The End

* * * * * *

Epilogue

Gretchen

How did it really end? It ended with the beginning of my new life. It was a new beginning for all of us, but mostly for Dylan and me. I know that probably shocks the shit out of you, but it shouldn't. Dylan and I both had new beginnings. We just didn't have them together. What we had was new lives without Jimmy. Jimmy was really dead. He was as Dead as disco.

If this was a sci-fi movie, someone would have cloned him, or found some medical miracle or used time travel to bring him back or to save him. But it isn't, so they buried him. If it had been up to me we'd have wrapped him up in an old blanket with a bunch of holes in it and buried him in the back yard like a dog. But I had nothing to do with it because... I was in jail.

If this was one of those made for TV movies, I'd have gotten off Scott free. They'd have looked up our history and seen how many times reports had been filed on us and figured that I was justified. Reporters would have swarmed around me and TV interview shows would have thrown money at me to appear. Then when my five minutes of fame were over, I'd write or ghost write a book and make lots of money. Then every time some other woman killed or fought back against her abusive spouse, the TV news people would call me in as an expert witness.