Page 96 of When The Rain Falls

I rotate the first couple photos to the bottom of the pile. Chubby faced babies and grinning toddlers. And then one photo catches my eye. Finn standing behind Laurel, his arms wrapped around her beneath the words,Happy Holidays. It was clearly before kids. She’s looking up at him. Like he’s absolutely everything to her. I run a finger over her glossy, beaming face. I know how she feels.

Hey girl.I find myself talking to Laurel’s frozenly joyous face.Hey girl? That was so stupid.I bite my lip.You don’t even know me and I’m hey-girling you.I pause. What would I say to her if she were here right now? If I knew she really could hear me?He really loved you. You know? But you probably did know. That’s probably why you’re smiling in all these pictures. He’s kind of great. But I’m sure you knew that, too.

The beaming face doesn’t move. Obviously. That’s it. I’m crazy. Living in suburbia has officially made me bonkers. Talking to photographs. Geez.

He calls me darling,I confess.Does that make you mad? What did he call you? Do you know the hole you left behind here? Would you want someone to fill it?As hard as I try, I don’t find the answers that I’m looking for in her frozen face. I’m not trying to replace you.But what exactlyamI doing?

I stare back at the picture. Where Laurel’s admiring Finn. And I suddenly feel like the third wheel. Like I’m intruding. My throat feels like it’s closing in on itself force down a swallow.

I don’t know how to end this. Amen?

Why am I so awkward?

Bye!

I quickly move the picture to the bottom of the stack and flip through the rest of them. More happy embraces and beaming faces. God. They loved each other so much.

I’m pulled from my thoughts by the sound of the front door bursting open at the end of the hallway. I quickly shove the pictures back in the drawer and close it just as feet pound towards us. Vivian runs into the kitchen, crashing into the counter. Ok, then. Finn and Vivian are home from soccer.

"Code red!" Vivian yells, almost breathless, as she grips the counter's edges.

"What?" Ruby looks at her with the disgust only an older sister can harbor, it's a look I'm very familiar with.

"Dad. He's gonna blow. Take cover," Vivian warns.

True to Vivian's words, the front door flies open again. I cautiously peek my head down the hall. Finn has his phone pressed against his ear and he's carrying a briefcase in one hand. His body is bunched in tension. And his entire face, including his eyes, is a new shade of angry red.

"That’s complete and utter fucking bullshit!" Finn yells into the phone. "It wasonebad day." He all but throws his briefcase to the floor as he stomps down the hallway. "I'm not pulling that card. I'm not groveling." His eyes narrow as he takes in the scene in his kitchen. The usually pristine counter is littered with empty eggshells, measuring cups, sticks of butter, and approximately one-third of all the dishes in the house.

He shakes his head and marches across the dining room to the sliding door. He steps onto the back porch and slams the slider closed behind him.

Ruby lets out a very audible sigh of relief.

I look back outside to where Finn is talking into the phone. No, not talking, he's yelling. Throwing his hands in the air and pacing in circles that seem to get wider with each orbit. He finally stops and gives the stair railing a kick. It pulls away from the deck and he curses. The call appears to end and his footsteps fall heavy against the planks of the wooden deck. Finn slides the door open and gets one foot inside before I stop him with a finger to the chest.

"Out," I command, pushing him back out the door. Because someone needs to put this big angry bull in his place. And I guess that someone is me.

"This ismy house," he says through bared teeth. His large muscled chest hardens beneath my touch. His face is still stunningly handsome even as he seethes at me.

"And you can come inside when you’ve calmed down," I say calmly. I hear a quiet gasp behind me.

Finn opens his mouth to protest, but then glances over my shoulder. He angles his eyes back at me, closes his mouth, and steps outside. Wow. That was too easy. I didn't expect things to go like that. I flip the door lock up. When he sees what I did, the look on his face turns murderous. I smile sweetly and wave at him through the glass before I turn my attention back to the kitchen. Ruby's mouth is hanging open. Vivian lets out a nervous laugh.

34DOMESTIC

FINN

One.Two. Three.

Why do people tell you to count when you’re angry?

All that does is make me count all the reasonswhyI’m angry.

Barry Bartholomew. Bar complaint. My attorney. Fuck it all.

I lean against the deck railing as I try to come to terms with the news I just received. The disciplinary board didn't dismiss the bar complaint like I had hoped they would. But they offered me a stipulation. If I concede I acted unprofessionally, my sanction will only be two months of leave and anger management. Yeah, well, fuck them. I don't needfuckingangerfuckingmanagement.

Then I sigh. And think about the woman in my kitchen right now. She deserves someone better than me. And maybe I can be that. Maybe I can be better than myself. Than who I am now. I’d need to start by controlling my anger.

---