Hannah Rice comes home to recover after emergency brain surgery. Greatly immobile, Hannah begins to fall into a deep depression. In order to make her time in their tiny house more bearable, Mason begins sending for the items locked away in storage for decades. As each box arrives Mason finds out more about his sister, his biological family, and himself.
Yet these may be things that are better left alone in the dark as each brings with it jagged memories that scream to be awoken in Hannah’s fragile mind. As she struggles between what is real, what is memory, and what is false, Nick “The Stud” Jackson, a dusky physical therapist at the Mountainside assigned to Hannah’s case, steps in to offer a hand.
The rain. To Hannah it seems it never stops raining. The storm outside and the one always brewing in her mind crash together as one sending her fleeing into the streets of Wellington in a fit of madness.
As the last of the painful family secrets come to light it’s up to Mason, and his unconventional methods to help Hannah confront the ugliness of her past in hopes that she can set upon the path to regaining her life.
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“Storage? What are they storing?” Hannah came with a single suitcase that was really more of an overnight bag, a sack of pills, and one garment bag with her Sunday-go-to-Meeting Dress in it. Without thinking about, his curiosity getting the better of him as usual, Mason grabbed the phone and hit the ‘redial’ button.
“Are you going to hang up on me again, Doctor Mason?” The paralegal asked as she looked up at the clock to note this would be her last phone call of the day. If she hadn’t had to fax that damn Motion to Dismiss over to the Court she’d have been out of here already. “What can I do for you?”
He almost apologized for hanging up, after all it wasn’t her fault Rice was a greedy pig. “What are you storing for Hannah? I’m looking at these charges and there are two storage units in her name.”
“I’m not sure exactly what’s in the storage units, Doctor Mason, but I’m certain Attorney Lawrence gave you a full accounting…”
On the other end of the line, Mason’s eyes scanned his desk remembering the attorney did say something about items in storage when he handed Mason a massive pile of paperwork that he stuffed into the bottom drawer of the desk and forgot about.
“If you like I can email you a file. We have a full listing of items with photographs for insurance purposes.”
Insurance purposes? Well, that meant whatever was in those units was valuable, didn’t it? Of course it did and that got his curiosity going even more. “Yeah, why don’t you do that? Send it to fungi at mswrc.org.”
“All right, FunGuy…”
“That’s f-u-n-g-i,” Mason told her.
“Cute,” she replied with a little smile. Since it did make her smile, she put aside the idea of waiting until morning. “I’m leaving for the night but I’ll send it right now. Anything else I can do for you, Doctor Mason?”
“No, that’s it. Wait…wait…if she wants any of this stuff, how do we get it up here?”
“Oh, the Trust will pay the expense. Just let us know and we’ll let the storage company know so they can ship it to your address.”
Sounded reasonable to him and, if nothing else, it would spare him a trip back to Victorville. “That’ll be great. Bye.” He hung up properly this time and felt a little better for having done so. Looking back at the cooling microwaved dinner, he thought it unappealing and tossed it in the trash with his stomach yearning for one of Hannah’s pot roast suppers.
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