I stare at the raindrops landing on the window; every one of them a tiny blow, putting a further dent in my confidence. Why couldn’t today of all days have been bright and sunny? Or, if not sunny, at least dry? Weather like this could spell disaster. This relentless rain could put an end to my dreams and undo all the good work and everything that has been achieved over the past few months.
“Staring at it won’t make it stop you know.”
For a moment I look away from the grey scene outside and focus on Ian. He looks relaxed, sitting there in the armchair with a book in his hands. If I didn’t know any better I’d think he wasn’t concerned at all, but I have no doubt he’s as worried as I am.
“You know as well as I do what this could mean, Ian.” I try to keep my concern and growing anger disguised but I’m not sure I’m succeeding. “This bloody weather might put an end to our dreams and plans. We were so close. It wouldn’t be fair if it all went wrong as a result of a wet day.”
“I know.” Ian’s voice is soft, his tone understanding. “I hate seeing you torn up and worried like this. Come. Sit with me. Ignore the outside world for a little while.”
I walk to where he’s sitting and get down until I’m on the floor with my head resting against his knee. I close my eyes when his fingers softly massage my scalp but not seeing the rain isn’t enough to stop my mind from jumping to all sorts of worrying conclusions, and neither is his soft touch.
Everybody knows people don’t come out on rainy days. It doesn’t matter if they’ve vouched to do the right thing. When the outcome doesn’t personally affect them – and sometimes even when it does – they can’t be bothered to brave the elements. And if we don’t get the numbers, we’re bound to fail. Ian and I have done what we could, as have most, if not all, of our friends and family. But it is going to take so much more than that to get the result we’ve been striving for, the result that will allow us to make our dreams come true.
It takes all my strength to stay where I am and not get up to check on the weather again or pace the room. The next twenty-four hours are going to be hell. We’ll be thrown from hope to despair and back again several times and there’s nothing we can do about it. If only I could fast forward time and jump ahead to the moment tomorrow when the counting will have finished. Yes or No – two small words make the difference between being seen as equal or not; between being able to marry the love of my life or never being able to call him my husband and be his.
To be continued, hopefully in a jubilant manner, this Saturday.
This flash was inspired by a remark my husband made this afternoon as well as the very real referendum on equal marriage rights taking place in Ireland on Friday. Unfortunately the weather could play a role in the outcome. As of now the forecast calls for showery conditions. I can only hope it won’t get worse while desperately wishing for a bright and sunny day, so that people will come out in large numbers to vote.
As always, other, and probably less politically themed, stories based on the same image can be found in the Monday Flash Fic group on Facebook. Make sure not to miss them.