Page 15 of Finding Home

In the cutest voice ever, she commands me to sit on the floor next to her for my first lesson. So, of course, I comply, as butterflies ravage my stomach. Once we’re situated on the carpet, Raine proceeds to open a coloring book and babble happily, frequently in words I can’t understand, asshe shows me the do’s and don’ts of creating a colorful masterpiece.

“Okay, I think I understand,” I say. And to my delight, she hands me a crayon and motions to the page before us.

“We do togedder,” she announces with authority. And a moment later, we’re jointly working on coloring a page featuring a mouse in a ballgown who’s throwing a lavish tea party for a big group of her forest-critter friends.

As I color on the floor next to Raine, I feel intoxicated by her. By the flowery scent of her shiny hair. By the fact that her little fingernails are the same shape as mine and my mother’s. I can’t help smiling at every tiny squeak of pride she makes in her student’s progress, every little grunt as she works on her own art. The buzz I’m feeling right now is better than any drug or booze. It’s better than playing a show for thousands. Better than winning a Grammy. Better than banging on my drums or riding my motorcycle up PCH on a perfect California day.

When I make a mistake of some kind, according to Raine, she touches my hand to correct me; and when I feel my daughter’s tiny touch, I’m flooded with an intense sensation of love and protectiveness that shocks me to my core. The sensation is so overwhelming, in fact, I quickly bow my head and pretend to be furiously concentrating on my work to hide the moisture forming in my eyes.

With my head still bowed, I say a little prayer.Please, let my mother see this moment.

I don’t know if I believe in an afterlife. I go back and forth on that. But in this moment, I desperatelyneedto believe in one, for the sake of my soul. To be able to forgive myself for fucking things up, so badly. To be able to get a good’s night sleep, ever again. Being here now, I understand how profoundly I’ve fucked up in the past.Not only in relation to my mother, but in relation to myself.

“Dat good!” Raine says brightly, patting my hand. “Good job, Coobie!”

I’m forced to look up before I’m ready to do it—when I’ve still got tears in my eyes. Fuck me. Aubrey is clocking my tears. In fact, the second her eyes meet mine, tears spring into her dark eyes, too.

I hang my head again, feeling embarrassed. And before another word is exchanged, the sound of the front screen thwapping draws my attention, and an older man and woman enter the house, with the man on crutches.

“How’d it go at the doctor?” Aubrey calls out, as I covertly wipe my eyes and take a deep breath to get ahold of myself.

“It’s gonna be a long haul, Shortcake,” the man on crutches replies, before coming to a stop alongside his wife in the entryway to the living room.

“Hello,” the woman says tentatively. She stares at me with deep confusion on her face before turning to Aubrey for an explanation.

Aubrey motions to me. “Mom, Dad, this is Claudia’s good friend, Caleb. He came over to learn how to color with Raine.”

“Hi,” I say feebly, getting up from the floor.

“Claudia’s good friend?” Aubrey’s mother echoes, looking even more confused.

I shake Aubrey’s parents’ hands. But when I start to explain my presence, Aubrey immediately stops me with an authoritative wave of her hand.

“Continue your coloring lesson with Raine,” she commands. “While I talk to my parents in the kitchen.” Aubrey smiles at Raine. “We’ll be right back, Rainey.”

“Mm hm,” Raine says absently, while coloring up a storm.

With my heart pounding in my ears, I watch Aubrey and her parents head into the adjacent kitchen, all of them moving at Aubrey’s father’s slow pace. But just before the trio disappears into the next room, Aubrey’s father blurts, “I swear to God that guy looksexactlylike the drummer for Red Card Riot!”

Chapter 7

Aubrey

Dinner is underway and going pretty well, surprisingly. For the past half hour or so, my parents, Caleb, and I have been eating together at the small table adjacent to the living room. Raine’s not here anymore. She started the meal with us, but she’s now lying on the carpet nearby, working on a new page in her coloring book.

Dad has dominated most of the dinner conversation thus far, by asking Caleb endless questions: about Red Card Riot, the art of drumming, the music industry in general. I’m grateful for Dad’s chattiness, since it’s given me the chance to stare at Caleb and assess him. Can I trust this man? What’s his real end game here?

Once again, my eyes rake over Caleb’s tattooed forearm as he lifts his fork to his mouth. And as he chews, my gaze remains, once again, fixated on the movement of his lips. Those are some damned fine lips, especially when framed by that beard. It’s a weird thought, since I don’t normally like beards. It’s a thought that makes me remind myself, yetagain, that the physical attraction I’m feeling for this man isn’t something I could ever pursue. Obviously.

When Claudia told me about her shocking encounter with C-Bomb after his show in Seattle, she lamented that she never got to kiss those lips. Apparently, C-Bomb fucked her from behind while gripping her hips with those two, big, tattooed hands right there; and he did it without ever kissing Claudia or looking into her eyes. Claudia said the sex itself was super-hot.It was the hottest, most animalistic sex imaginable, she told me.Ten out of ten. But even so, she admitted she still felt a touch disappointed she didn’t get to taste the lips she’d been fantasizing about kissing since middle school.

Frankly, I’ve never understood Claudia’s fixation on C-Bomb. Truly, never.

But I get it now.

I still despise the man for the way he’s neglected Raine. Also, because he never asked for Claudia’s phone number after their encounter, which deeply disappointed her. But now that I’m seeing the guy in person, I can’t deny I finally get his worldwide appeal. At the very least, I can understand why hate sex is a thing. In a flash, I see Caleb grippingmyhips from behind and having animalistic sex withme,while I shout epithets at him and swear I hate his guts for never once coming to meet Raine.

Dad laughs at something Caleb says, jerking me from my mortifyingly horrendous thoughts, and Mom and I exchange a withering look about his happy guffaw. We’d both normally be happy for Dad to get to meet the drummer from one of his favorite bands; but in this moment, we’re both far too wary about Caleb’s intentions to feel anything but unsettled and cautious. If Caleb gets custody of Raine, will he keep his word and always give usfull access to her, or will he eventually ice us out, once we’re no longer useful to him?

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