Only When It Rains

Sorry I've been away for so long; a member of my family has been very ill. However, I'm back at home now, and I'll start cranking out more stories for you all to read as soon as possible. A very heartfelt thank you goes to all of you who have given me so much praise and insight. I want each and every one of to know that wherever you may go in life, my respect and gratitude will be with you, always....

MoogPlayer

P.S. The places mentioned in the story are very real. However, they are only used as backdrops for this tale, which is total fiction. Oh, and don't forget to vote!

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My name is Michael Hayes, I'm six feet, four inches tall; I have dark brown hair and blue eyes, and I weigh roughly two hundred and fifty pounds. I was the only child my parents had, became a widower at twenty-eight and Jane, my late wife, had been gone for almost four years when all of what you are about to read took place.

Chapter One

Let me begin by telling you a little about my life. I was raised in a small coastal town in Texas, Surfside Beach, on the Gulf of Mexico. My teenage years took place during the seventies, and for those of us who grew up back then; it was right after "The Pill" and way before AIDS, and we were part of "The Love Generation". I graduated high school in 1977 and went on to the University of Texas on an athletic scholarship, where I received my degree in engineering four years later. I met Jane at a party during the spring semester of my freshman year.

Neither of us denied our initial attraction to one another, and after dating for six months; we moved in together right before the fall semester of my sophomore year. We were both so young and so very much in love with one another. Jane was a classic beauty, and it seemed like we simply couldn't get enough of each other, not hesitating to have sex at any and every given opportunity.

She stood five feet, eight inches tall and was built like a brick shithouse; she had long blonde hair that fell down her fit body and right past her beautiful tight little ass. She had emerald green eyes that could stare a hole right through me, and was easily the most beautiful girl that I'd ever seen....and we fell in love with one another almost immediately.

The war in Vietnam had ended and the United States was still trying to heal itself not only as a nation, but as a people as well. And when it came to politics, Jane and I were idealists, passionate in our beliefs. We honestly thought that we both had what it took to be able to really make a difference in the world; hence the reason we chose to get married the summer between our junior and senior years in college. And then like the blind idiots we both were back then, upon our graduation we volunteered to work for the Peace Corps instead of seeking fortunes here in the U.S.

~~~~~~

For the next seven years, were sent all over Central America. I was there to over-see the construction of schools, roads and bridges; and Jane because she was a teacher. We never thought about having children, because we didn't think the lifestyle we led was conducive to raising a family, and we also thought there'd be plenty of time for that later. What did happen, though, was that Jane contracted malaria while we were in Nicaragua and died the day after our sixth wedding anniversary. It stormed terribly on the day we buried her, and I've hated the fucking rain ever since.

~~~~~~

I was lost without her; and the memories of her brilliant smiles and tender caresses, as well as the sound of her voice, haunted my every dream for the first few years. And at the behest of my parents, who both worked and lived in Miami, Florida, I immediately moved back to the United States and took on a job, working on my Uncle's ranch just south of Houston, Texas. It was near a small town named West Columbia, down south in Brazoria County. Both of my parents were born and raised there, and a few of my aunts and uncles, and a couple of cousins still live down there. Plus, it was only a few miles from where I grew up so, there was the added familiarity that gave me comfort.

My Dad is the youngest of three boys. Uncle Jake, the oldest, was sixty seven and looked fifty, and his wife, my Aunt Rita, was sixty four and looked no older than forty at the very most. They owned and operated their own live-stock ranch, and I had worked and lived there during the summers between my high school and college years and knew my way around the place very well. Plus, my Aunt Rita's cooking was out of this world delicious.

However, being there this time allowed me to live a life of anonymous obscurity, as I still wasn't yet ready to face the rest of the world. And for a long while, the ranch became my own safe little world, and Uncle Jake and Aunt Rita became the only people that existed as far as I was concerned. Of course, I went into town every now and then, whether it was to order more feed for the cattle, or to take Uncle Jake to one place or another, but never anything more than that, and never socially.

Before I go any further, let me tell you about Uncle Jake and Aunt Rita. Uncle Jake was one hell of a guy in my opinion. He joined the Navy as soon as he was old enough, and served with the Naval Combat Demolition Units (NCDU) after the end of World War II; which later became the Underwater Demolition Teams (UDT) during the Korean War. And in 1962 when President Kennedy wanted a special unit that could operate in all three theaters of combat, Sea, Air, and Land; the Navy SEALs were born. Uncle Jake was one of the first six men to be called a United States Navy SEAL. He served until he was wounded in 1968, and soon after, he retired with full honors after twenty-three years of service. Both of my parents, as well as Aunt Rita, all say that I look almost exactly like Uncle Jake when he was my age, and in knowing that; I feel proud to be related to such a great man.

My Aunt Rita, which is short for Margarita, was a very beautiful woman in her own right, and came from true Spanish decent. Her parents, as well as the rest of her family, were all born and raised in and around Cordoba, Spain. It is in the Iberian Peninsula in a region of the country known as Andalusia. I first met her when I was eight. Her hair was very long and very dark, and I always loved the way that it fell past her knees. She had a beautiful olive complexion with hazel eyes. Aunt Rita spoke perfect English, and it was funny that she only spoke in her native language when she was pissed off at Uncle Jake.

They met when Uncle Jake was in Madrid, where Aunt Rita was going to college. They stayed in touch with one another, fell in love; and when Aunt Rita took him home to meet her family for the first time, they received him with open arms. They were married a year later with her entire family's blessing. When Uncle Jake retired from the Navy, Antonio de Mateo, my Aunt Rita's father, gave him ten Andalusian horses, two studs, and eight mares as a business investment, hence the reason him and Aunt Rita now have a ranch, the "Rocking H".

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Actually, they raise a whole lot of different live-stock, mostly Black and Red Angus cattle, but Uncle Jake's pride and joy are his Andalusian horses. He's won a ton of money at shows with them over the years, and he has named each and every one of them, all thirty-four of them. It's really cool how they respond to him, almost like the way a small child would respond to its parent. And watching Uncle Jake with them has truly shown me, that from the toughest and strongest of men come the gentlest of souls.

~~~~~~

"Mikey," Uncle Jake said one afternoon, "Why don't you and I take a ride to the beach on horse back?"

"Wow," I smiled, "That sounds like fun. I'll go and saddle up a couple of horses then."

"No need," grinned Uncle Jake, as he patted me on the back, "I've already done it, come on, boy, let's ride."

~~~~~~

"So how are you doing these days, Mikey," Uncle Jake casually asked, as we rode along, "You don't look so good, kid."

"I'm okay I guess."

"Are you still having those dreams about Jane?"

"No sir, not so much anymore," I sullenly replied, "Well at least not every night, that is."

Look Mikey," he gently said, "When I first came home from the Navy, I had bad dreams, too, and I used to wake up covered in sweat and fear."

"But you've never been afraid of anything."

"Says who, Mikey?" he laughed, "Whoever it was doesn't know me at all."

"I don't understand," I replied, "You were a Navy SEAL, Uncle Jake."

"Yeah, and every time I got called on to do my job, I was always afraid. Hell, anybody who says that they weren't afraid, is either crazy, or they're lying their ass off," he said, "That means that it's okay to be afraid, buddy. It's working past our fears that make us better men."

It was then that I realized that my understanding of the wise counsel that Uncle Jake had given me that afternoon was only the beginnings of the healing that my heart and soul were so desperately in need of.

~~~~~~

Aunt Rita would always make it a point to introduce me to all of her friends every time I went any where with her, or should I say, drove her anywhere, which was very rare in itself. And it was on a particular Saturday morning; after Jane had been dead for a little over four years that my life took a different turn.

Saturday was Aunt Rita's hair day, and this particular morning she insisted that I accompany her to Peggy's Hair Salon, which was where she'd been going for over twenty years, to get her hair done.

"Aw, come on, Aunt Rita," I complained, "All those ladies do is sit around and gossip. Besides, Uncle Jake said that he wanted me to repair the western fence line today."

"Don't you worry about your Uncle Jake, I can handle him," she firmly replied, then she grinned and said, "I think that's it's about time that you climbed out of that shell you've been in for the past four years and start living again."

"Look, Aunt Rita," I argued, "I'm not ready for...."

"Michael," she calmly, but firmly interrupted me, "You're coming with me and that's final." She was showing a side of herself that I'd only seen a small number of times in my life; the results of which were not pleasant. However, this was the first time her anger was directed at me, making me simply agree, and then as her facial features changed back into that of the sweet, kind and beautiful woman she'd always been, she smiled, and gently patting my cheek, said, "Trust me, it will be alright."

~~~~~~

Aunt Rita had always been loved by all of her friends, and this day was no exception. When we stepped through the doors of the hair salon I saw four chairs, all occupied by ladies who were Aunt Rita's age, and one chair that was empty with no one attending it.

"Well, hey there, Rita," smiled Peggy, as we walked in, "And who is that good lookin devil you brought in with you?"

"I would like you all to meet my nephew, Michael," Aunt Rita proudly replied, "He's my brother-in-law's son, and he's staying with Jake and me for a while."

"So, this is Nathan's boy," Peggy sweetly smiled, as she walked up to me and placed her hand on my shoulder, "Michael, honey, the last time I saw you, you weren't any bigger than a sack of rabbit food. Goodness me, you sure grew up to be a handsome thing."

"Thank you, ma'am," I uneasily replied, with the embarrassment I was feeling being plainly written across my face.

"Aw, look at him blush," Peggy giggled, "Ain't that the sweetest thing?" However, before anyone of the other ladies in the salon could comment, Peggy put her arm around my waist and cooed, "It's about time you brought a nice looking man in here, Rita. Would you like to get your hair cut, Michael? It ain't like you couldn't use one ya know."

'Uh, sure," I quietly replied, "I guess that would be alright."

"Good," she smiled, "My grand daughter will be here in a few minutes to cut it for you. She's real good with men's hair, especially long hair. Just have a seat in the last chair, okay, sweetie?"

"Okay," I smiled, climbing into the barber chair, "Thanks, Ms. Peggy."

~~~~~~

I hadn't been sitting in the chair for more than a minute or two when, in walked one the prettiest girls I'd ever seen. I guessed her age to be somewhere in the vicinity of twenty-four, or twenty-five, and she was rather tall, too, five feet, nine, or maybe even five feet, ten inches tall. However, she couldn't have weighed anymore than one-hundred and thirty, to one-hundred and thirty five pounds at the most. Her body was proportionate to her height, and when she looked at me; I was hypnotically paralyzed by the deep blue color of her eyes. Her face was almost angelic, while her dark brown hair was full, straight and flowed down her back to end just even with her hips. And it was then, for the first time in a very long while, that I felt it; something I hadn't felt since way before Jane died.

She looked over at Peggy and Aunt Rita, and with a smile that could light up the darkest of places, she said, "Hi, Ms. Rita, hi, Grams, sorry I'm late."

"You're not late, sweetie," Peggy smiled, "But you do have a customer waiting for you."

Peggy was correct in what she'd said about my needing a hair-cut. I'd not cut my hair in well over three years, and at the time; it was way past my shoulder blades. "Well now," she said, smiling and looking at me, "Who are you?"

"Marlee, honey," smiled Aunt Rita, "This is my nephew, Michael Hayes." Then Aunt Rita grinned at me and said, "Michael, this is Peggy's grand-daughter, Marlee Sanders."

"Hi, Michael," Marlee smiled, as she extended her hand towards me, "It's nice to meet you."

The moment our hands touched, I felt it again, "Hello, Marlee," I politely replied, "It's nice to meet you, too."

"I don't recall seeing you around here before," she warmly smiled, "Where are you from?"

"He grew up on Surfside Beach, sweetie," said Peggy.

"I'm glad you shared that with me, Grams," Marlee giggled, "But I'm pretty sure Michael can speak for himself."

I think that it was her disarming smile that got my attention first, because right after I heard what she'd told her grandmother, I chuckled and said, "I grew up near here, but I've been away for a while."

"Well then," she grinned, "Welcome back."

"Thank you," I smiled, "I guess it's good to be back."

She walked around behind me, and after turning the barber chair until we were both facing the mirror, she ran her fingers through my hair, eliciting chills down my back, and said, "How do you want me to cut this?"

"To be honest," I said, "I hadn't really thought about it until now."

"You have a beautifully thick head of hair, Michael," she smiled, "If you'll let me, I can make it look really good."

"Hell, you're the professional," I chuckled, "I trust your judgment."

"Good," she giggled, as she led me to the shampoo station, "You're gonna love it when I'm finished." Just then I happened to glance over towards Aunt Rita and Ms. Peggy, only to find the both of them watching us and smiling proudly.

~~~~~~

"Wow," I smiled, when Marlee had finished with my hair, "This looks really good."

"See, I told you, silly," she proudly said.

"Thank you, Marlee," I replied smiling, "How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing," she brightly grinned, "Consider it a 'Welcome Home' present."

"Come on, now," I objected, "I can't let you do that."

"It's already done," she giggled, crossing her arms, "Besides, when people ask you who did your hair...and they will; you can send them to me."

Okay," I chuckled, "But I'm still gonna pay you back, one way or another."

"I know what we can do, Michael," Aunt Rita suddenly announced, "The butcher delivered the meat yesterday from the bull that you and your uncle took to slaughter last week so, why don't you ask Marlee if she'd like to come on out to the house tonight for a steak dinner?"

Before I could respond, Marlee smiled and excitedly replied, "Oh that sounds great. What time do I need to be there?"

"I think seven o'clock would be just fine," Aunt Rita smiled, "And thank you for making Michael's hair look so good, too."

"What're you talking about?" Marlee cooed, "He's already good looking, I just made him look hot."

Needless to say, I began to blush, making every female in the hair salon all giggle like school girls.

~~~~~~

"I really like the way your hair looks, Michael," Aunt Rita gushed, as I drove us back home, "What do you think of Marlee?"

"She seems like a nice girl," I replied, not wanting to reveal what I actually thought, even though I didn't recognize it at the time.

"Okay," Aunt Rita knowingly smiled, but to her credit, nothing else was said about Marlee.

~~~~~~

"It's about time ya'll got back," Uncle Jake chuckled, as we walked into the house, "Hell; I thought I was going to have to call out the National Guard to go find you two."

"Shut your mouth," Aunt Rita smiled, leaning down and kissing Uncle Jake on the lips, "You silly old man."

"I'll show you a silly old man," Uncle Jake laughed, smacking Aunt Rita on the butt, "Just wait until later on tonight when the lights all go out."

"Jacob Lee Hayes," Aunt Rita gasped, then giggled, "You are so bad. Besides, we have guests coming over for dinner tonight."

"Oh yeah," Uncle Jake smiled, "And just who might that be?"

"Peggy's grand daughter, Marlee," Aunt Rita replied.

"Who the hell is she?" Uncle Jake knowingly grinned.

"You know exactly who she is, Jacob," Aunt Rita clucked, "She cut Michael's hair today. What do you think?"

"I think it's still too damn long," he teased, winking at me and smiling, "It makes him look like a girl."

"Leave him alone," Aunt Rita smiled, as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and kissed me on the cheek while she hugged me from behind, "I think he looks very handsome." Then she looked at Uncle Jake, and in Spanish, giggled "Tu loco, Viejo," which translated, means, "You crazy Old Man."

~~~~~~

Uncle Jake brought four of the finest cuts of New York Strip that I'd ever seen in my life into the kitchen and laid them onto the counter for Aunt Rita to prepare for the grill. I'd seen the two of them do this many time before and they had it down like clockwork.

While Uncle Jake manned and readied the grill, Aunt Rita marinated the steaks in adobo, which is a Spanish marinade made of oil, vinegar, peppercorns, bay leaves, ground red pepper and lemon juice. And aside of the fact that it tastes great; it also permeates the meat, making it porous, allowing the heat to penetrate it more evenly as it cooks. But when I offered to help, I was politely shooed out of the kitchen and told to go and change into some nice clothes. Aunt Rita was so sweet, God love her.

~~~~~~

When Marlee came rolling down the long driveway, I smiled as her car came into view. She was driving a "Fire-Engine Red", 1972 Pontiac GTO that was in pristine condition. And per Aunt Rita's insistence, I was standing on the front porch as she approached the house. "Damn," I thought to myself, "This girl sure has good taste in cars."

The moment her car door opened, she smiled as she stepped out and said, "Hi Michael, it's nice to see you again." She was wearing a bright yellow sundress with spaghetti straps on her beautifully bare shoulders, and I was completely taken back at how radiant she looked. She wore hardly any make-up, reaffirming her youth, and while her dress might've been light in weight; it was designed and cut so it tastefully displayed her body, adding an elegant grace to her stride. God, she looked beautiful.

"Hi," I grinned, "I sure like your car."

"Oh really," she playfully jabbed, "And what would you know about cars, handsome?"

"Are you kidding me?" I laughed, "This isn't just a car. It's a nineteen, seventy-two, Pontiac GTO, and the first true 'muscle car' that ever came out of Detroit. It came from the factory, with a two hundred and fifty horsepower, Four Hundred under the hood."