It's Only the Rain

Looking around as if the room was bugged, Mindy placed the device against the side of her head. She wasn't startled when nothing happened, no sudden surge of energy frying her brain or chorus of disembodied voices screaming in her head. The whole thing was a lot of bunk just as she had suspected, but her love of Sci-Fi had made it impossible for her not to at least give it a try. She started to remove the device when a loud noise made her snap her head around in confusion.

"What the Hell?" she whispered.

For just a second, she swore she had heard the call of a bird, a seagull as a matter of fact. The sound brought back memories of rare trips to the shores of Lake Michigan when she had been a child. Shaking her head and thinking she had imagined the whole thing, Mindy reached up to remove the device again when the birds call erupted in her ear a second time.

Standing so fast from the bed it made her head swim, Mindy looked frantically around the room for the source of the sound. In all her years in the hospital, she had never heard anything that emulated a seagull call, not an alarm or malfunctioning piece of equipment, but there was no other explanation. She licked her lips, trying to calm her racing heart. The head rush she had felt upon standing wasn't receding, and she swayed off-balance, reaching out her arms in case she fell over.

"Uh...I think I need to lie down," thought Mindy closing her eyes.

All of a sudden, she felt a burst of wind on her face, and her nostrils were assaulted by a variety of smells, chief among them fish. Her feet went cold as water swept over them, soaking right into her shoes.

Mindy's eyes flew open, and she stood in stunned silence. The hospital room was gone, and she was on a beach, a deep greenish-blue body of water spread out before her and vanished off into the distance. Above her head, seagulls swooped in lazy patterns in the air calling out to each other and periodically diving at the water in search of a meal. The sound of waves striking the shore reminded her of wet hands clapping together. She took a quick step back, realizing the tide was coming in and washing over her feet.

"What...What the fuck!" she stammered.

Closing her eyes again, Mindy fought to calm herself, slow her breathing, she was on the verge of a panic attack, and that would not help her figure things out. Time past, and with a great deal of effort, Mindy got her emotions under control, felt her initial panic receding.

"Open your eyes," she whispered.

The sun glared off the water, and she squinted and instinctively turned away.

This was impossible. How had she gotten here?

If it was a hallucination, it was a damn realistic one.

Mindy leaned over and scooped up some sand from next to her foot, letting it run through her fingers.

"Feels real to me," she mumbled.

A new sound caught her attention, and she brushed the last of the loose grains from her hands while looking all around. It had sounded like the barking of a dog, and it turned out that was exactly correct when a large, rambunctious looking mutt with fur a wild mix of black and white came running over the top of a nearby dune. The animal paused to stare at her and then raced toward her barking and wagging its tail.

She laughed at its unbridled enthusiasm as it ran in tight circles around her, stopping briefly to sniff at her legs but bounding backward if she tried to touch it.

"Wow! You're just full of energy, aren't you?"

The dog came to a halt as she spoke, cocking its head to one side before giving a loud answering bark and then starting its circular running path again.

"Max! Heel!"

Mindy's eyes followed her furry greeter as he darted back the way he had come obediently falling in next to the man who had spoken.

"This is private property. You're trespassing," he said, walking toward her, Max staying close to his right leg.

Mindy tried to speak, to explain her presence though she had no real explanation to offer, but her voice faltered and faded away before more than a token noise came out. She found herself faced with an all-new shock, and this one seemed to make her disappearance from the hospital pale in comparison. The man striding toward her was all too familiar except before this; her only contact with him had been very one-sided.

"Trevor Harcourt..."

He stopped in front of her wrinkling his brow.

"Do I know you, Miss?"

"I...No...I mean...Yes...sort of..." Mindy had no idea where to start. Her mind was still trying to catch up with this bizarre turn of events.

"Did we meet at that marina party last Saturday? I apologize if I don't recall, but there were so many folks there, and I don't know about you, but I had way too much to drink."

"Party...No, I wasn't..."

"Then again, if I had met a girl as pretty as you, I think I would recall it even with all the booze," he continued, talking right over her awkward attempt at an answer.

Mindy past a hand across her face feeling dizzy and confused.

"Are you o.k.?"

She cleared her throat, suddenly feeling parched and desperately thirsty.

"I'm sorry. I think I'm lost," she finally managed to get out.

"Lost? How did you get past the fence to begin with its two meters high?"

"Fence? I...I don't remember."

Mindy swayed feeling faint, and Trevor reached out to steady her his strong hands feeling warm on her arms.

"Easy there. Have you been out here long? It's brutally humid today. You might be dehydrated."

"I could use a drink of water," admitted Mindy.

"My beach house isn't far from here. Why don't you come with me?"

Not really feeling as if she had much choice, Mindy let Trevor guide her back the way he had come. He helped her along with one arm around her shoulder and his free hand on her wrist.

"Do you usually go for walks on the beach in hospital scrubs?" he asked curiously as they walked.

"I...uh...just got off work," she lied, not sure what else to say.

"Where? Do you work at the clinic in Arbor Point? That would explain why we haven't crossed paths before I can't stand hospitals. I tend to give any place where doctors congregate a wide berth."

"Sure, the clinic," she said, nodding.

They reached the top of the dune, and in the distance, she could see a large, two-story house with walls of windows on one side of the ground floor facing the water and a raised deck that jutted out from the second floor. The deck was accessible both from the interior of the house via sliding glass doors and from stairs leading down to the beach.

He led her beneath the wide, wooden deck and then turned to follow a path around to the side of the house. A door there opened into the most opulent living room Mindy had ever seen. The furnishings were top of the line antiques any single item worth everything she owned ten times over. The walls were wood-paneled with a large fireplace dominating one entire side of the room. She noticed several family portraits on display recognizing Cecilia and Mitchell. Max darted past them and ran off down a hallway barking as he went.

"It's a bit overdone, I know. My mother has a thing for antiques," explained Trevor as he helped her over to a leather couch. He left, vanishing through a doorway that she assumed led to the kitchen and returned a moment later with a glass of ice water. Mindy downed nearly the entire contents in one go.

"Better?" he asked.

Trevor had joined her on the couch, and his smiling face revealed perfect rows of white teeth. He was just as handsome as his photos, even more so now that he wasn't pale and wasting away in a hospital bed. His blue eyes flashed with good humor, and the smell of his cologne was a delightful distraction.

"So, now that you're not in danger of passing out on me. What do you say we start over? You already know who I am, so what do I call you?"

"Mindy. Mindy Dawson."

"Okay, Mindy Dawson. So how is it you came to be wandering on my beach?"

"Your beach?"

"Well, my family. We own a five-mile stretch of it from here up to the lighthouse outside Arbor Point."

"That's a lot of land for one family."

"I suppose. Wait? Are you one of those townies that think us rich outsiders are spoiling things for the people that live here? We're you trying to break in and graffiti the house or something?" he asked suspiciously.

"Do I look like I'm carrying spray paint? You know a lot of vandals that run around in hospital scrubs?"

"Could be your disguise!" he said, trying to look severe and stern, but breaking into a laugh.

"Okay, so you're no vandal. How did you come to be here then? Did my brother give you the gate code? He's always letting pretty girls turn his head."

"I know Mitchell," she confirmed, letting it go at that and hoping Trevor wouldn't pursue it further. It wasn't really a lie.

"Ha! I knew it. If I had a dime for every time he invited some chick from town out here, then forgot he did it. That boy can not hold his liquor. Did he give you that line about having his own yacht? The closest he ever came to having a yacht was getting seasick on my dads and throwing up all the way across Lake Superior."

"I don't remember. Guess I had too much to drink..."

"Right...I know where you're coming from. Well, I wish I had been at that party. I could have saved you from Mitchell."

"Did I need saving?"

"Oh! Most definitely. You're far too sweet for the likes of my brother. He is a shameless womanizer that one."

"And you're the nice brother?"

"I have my moments..." he replied, smiling in such a disarming way that Mindy felt her heart race again, but not from fear this time.

"If you were looking for Mitchell, he's not here anyway. He and my mom went back to Chicago for business. I'm afraid it's just little old me. I hope that's not too much of a disappointment?"

"It's not a disappointment at all," she blurted without thinking and then blushed.

"You know, I was about to go get some dinner. Why don't you join me? Do you like seafood? Man, I love a good crab cake..."

Trevor bounced up off the couch and headed toward the back of the house, still talking a mile a minute. Mindy had imagined many times what he must have been like before the coma, but this boyishly charming man wasn't what she had expected based on the rest of his family.

"Just let me find my car keys!" he called from the other room.

Mindy went to stand by the long row of windows that looked out at the churning waters of what she now realized must be Lake Michigan. She recalled now overhearing Mitchell talking to his mother about their summer getaways before the accident. He had mentioned a beach house, and this must have been it.

"Jesus! I am Spock. Somehow I'm in Trevor's head, and he is living in some sort of dream like his brain constructed a safe harbor for him while it healed. This is crazy!"

If this was a dream, though, it certainly didn't feel like one. Everything was solid. The water had tasted like water. The couch had felt like any piece of furniture she had ever sat on, well, quite a bit nicer, but still, at the end of the day, a couch. She tapped on the glass, and it rang and felt substantial. There wasn't any sign of strangeness like flying dragons or man-eating sea serpents rising from the water.

"Dr. Avery was full of shit, though. This isn't just transferring emotions. I'm here! The thing is...how do I get back?"

That was the million-dollar question, and no answer came to mind.

"Here we go!" said Trevor coming back into the room while twirling a set of keys around one finger.

They left the house by the same door but veered to the left and around to the front of the structure where a red convertible sports car sat parked. The top was down, and after holding the door for his guest, Trevor entered the vehicle by leaping over the driver's side door and sliding right into the seat in one move.

"Very smooth," commented Mindy.

"I work as a stunt driver when I'm not saving damsels on my beach," he said with a grin.

"Really?"

"Shit no! I usually end up falling headfirst onto the floorboard, but I sold it this time, didn't I?"

Mindy couldn't help but laugh as Trevor wiggled his eyebrows at her and started the car.

He eased down the accelerator, and even just a little gas sent them off like a rocket toward a high steel gate that marked the end of the driveway. The exit must have automatically detected their approach because it swung open all on its own. Trevor swerved onto the main road and pointed them in the direction of town.

"Do you live in Arbor Point?" he asked.

"Um...No, I just work there. I take it this isn't your permanent residence?" she replied, throwing a question back at him to forestall any more inquiries into her life.

"No, just a summer home. We come out here to get away from the noise of the big city. I like the quiet."

"It is beautiful."

Trevor nodded, "We've been coming up here since I was a kid. We used to have a place near the marina, but Mom didn't like all the parties that went on there and got my dad to purchase this property instead. She got it in the divorce."

"I see. So your parents aren't together anymore?"

Mindy already knew the answer but wanted to keep the focus on Trevor. She wasn't sure what would happen if his sub-conscious snapped to the fact that she didn't belong here.

"Maybe it would conjure up some demon to eat me like in that movie, "Dreamscape," she thought recalling a poorly received science-fiction film from the early eighties.

"Nope. My Dad was even worse than Mitchell when it came to womanizing. She got the house, he got the yacht, and we got the joy of being caught in the middle."

"It's never easy for the kids in a divorce."

Trevor merely grunted in reply, obviously not keen on talking too much about that part. Up ahead, a large wooden sign appeared around the bend.

- Welcome to Arbor Point - pop. 10,730. founded 1798 -

The two-lane coastal road bisected the town with half lying close to the water and the rest inland among some low-slung hills. It was a scattering of buildings, some looking as if they dated from the turn of the century while others were clearly of more modern construction. A summer tourist town with a population that probably depended on those dollars for its economic prosperity.

"They say this town was a French trading post before the war with England in 1763. The town was built in 1798 on the ruins of the old post."

"Are you a local history buff?" she asked.

"Nope. I once dated a girl who worked for the Arbor Point Chamber of Commerce. She was like a walking pamphlet for this place. I can quote you the annual tonnage of fish caught off the docks here if you're interested?"

"I'll pass, but thanks," she said, laughing.

Trevor took a right onto a street that ran into what looked to be the town square, parking across from a laundry mat. He went straight around to her door and opened it like a gentleman. Mindy glanced around but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. By all appearances, it was just a typical lake-side burg with the usual collection of small businesses. People in all shapes and sizes were walking up and down the sidewalks, some carrying cameras and standing out as tourists from the rest.

"Come on. I'll show you my favorite place to eat."

Trevor took her by the hand, leading her toward a diner that occupied one corner of the town center. The place was crowded with patrons, but as soon as they entered a middle-aged waitress with curly red hair came straight up to them.

"Trevor! It's so good to see you, Sweetie. You come in for the Crab Cake special?"

"You know me far too well, Mona. This is my friend, Mindy."

"Mona Klein," said the older woman, sticking out a well-callused hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Mona," said Mindy wincing at Mona's firm grip.

"Follow me. I can squeeze you in."

Mindy and Trevor quickly found themselves seated at a small table for two in the back corner. Mona brought them some water while Mindy perused the menu. The smell of seafood frying in the back made her salivate, and she decided to follow Trevor's example and choose the crab cakes.

"You will not be sorry. Best crab cakes anywhere on the lake!" said Mona grinning as she darted away.

"She certainly has a lot of enthusiasm for her establishment."

"Mona owns this place, she and her husband, Bob. They're like third-generation townsfolk, been here for a long time."

"I gather you come here often."

"Not as much as I would like. My mother prefers dining at somewhat more respectable places. You can take that to mean stuffy and without character."

Mindy smiled at the way Trevor rolled his eyes. He was not at all like how she thought rich people were supposed to be, especially based on what she had seen from his mother and brother. Trevor seemed down to Earth and much less intense and stand-offish than the rest of his family.

"So what's it like being a nurse?" he asked, taking a sip from his water.

"It can be gratifying. I love to be a part of making a person whole again, seeing them get healthy after a rough time. The hours are long, though, and when you have a patient, you can't help; it can be very emotional."

"I can only imagine," said Trevor sitting back.

"I had this little boy once, about nine-years-old. He was a cancer patient, very sick when he came to us but so brave about it. I never once heard him complain through all the miserable treatments he had to go through. When he passed it...it was hard on everyone," she finished fighting back tears at the memory.

Trevor reached across the table, laying his hand on top of hers, and she looked up into his concerned face.

"I would guess that a good nurse is one that can empathize with her patients, and you clearly have no problem doing that. I bet they can sense it, and it brings them more comfort than you realize. The ability to achieve that kind of genuine connection with people is rarer than one might think. I know, I've spent plenty of time around folks who don't see others as anything but pluses and minuses on a balance sheet."

His gesture of understanding made her feel warm all over.

"Is that the kind of work you do? Financial stuff?" she asked.

Trevor released her hand, looking out the window next to where they sat.

"I got my MBA from Princeton, so I'm certainly qualified, and my mother would like nothing better than to see me make piles of money for her company like Mitchell seems intent on doing."

"That's not what you want to do?"

Before he could answer, Mona returned with their plates, and they both dug into their food. Mindy was famished, and Trevor had not over-sold the crab cakes, they were delicious.

"You weren't kidding about these crab cakes," she said, wiping her face with a napkin.

"I told you I wouldn't steer you wrong."

"You didn't finish telling me about what you would rather do than work for your mother?" she prodded.

Trevor put his silverware down and grabbed a pen from the pocket of a passing waitress.

"Sorry. I'll give it back in two shakes," he said to her with a charming smile.

The waitress, a young and very cute blond, lost her frown abruptly under the twin assault of Trevor's blue eyes and grin.

"Keep it. You can use it to write me your number..." she said before returning to her duties.

Mindy raised an eyebrow while Trevor shrugged off the encounter.

"I think she probably just wants some investing advice," he said modestly.

"Oh, I'm sure she wants you to invest in something alright," shot back Mindy.

Trevor took the pen and pulled a napkin from the holder next to him. Then hiding it behind his arm, he began to doodle something.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"What made you want to be a nurse?" he countered, ignoring her question for the moment.

"My Aunt Fran. I lived with her for a while when I was a teen. She was a nurse in Indiana. I learned a lot from being around her about people and what they need."