Page 77 of Finding Home

Seriously, I need to shut the fuck up now. It’s written all over this woman’s stern face: my babbling isn’t helping my cause. In desperation, I motion to Raine’s doorway, and thankfully, this time, she enters the room.

“It’s fit for a princess,” she murmurs, looking around. Is that a compliment or a dig? Damn, she’s got a better poker face than my buddy, Colin, and he’s the only one who can always beat me in cards, thanks to his stellar poker face.

I look around, trying to see the room through this social worker’s eyes, and, suddenly, it looks criminally over-the-top to me. Like I’m trying to buy my daughter’s affections. “I wanted Raine to feel safe and happy here.”

“I’m sure she loves it.” It’s the first kind words she’s uttered to me today. But then again, for all I know, she’s thinking, “Because little kids can be easily bribed.” So, I tell myself not to read into the seeming vote ofconfidence.

“If there’s anything you’d suggest to make this environment better for Raine, I’m all ears.”

The woman looks up from her pad and smiles politely. “I’m not here to make suggestions to you, Mr. Baumgarten. It’s my job to report whatever I see, and what I’ve concluded about it, and then to report my expert findings and opinions to the judge.”

My stomach somersaults. “Yes, ma’am.”

She scribbles a note onto her dreaded pad again, and I can’t help feeling like I’m sixteen and just failed my first driver’s test again. It was nerves that tanked me then, the same way nerves caused me to flunk every math test in middle school, even after I’d studied really hard. Frankly, the only times nerves have ever helped me is when I’m sitting behind a drum kit, getting mentally prepared to play for tens of thousands of people. Other than that, I swear to God, my nerves have always been my worst fucking enemy.

“How many nights has Raine slept here?”

I shift my weight. “Three. We just got in from Montana. She loves the beach here. Loves her room. She’s been sleeping like a rock.”

“For three nights.”

“It’s a big deal. She never had three nights in a row without a nightmare before we got here.”

The woman’s eyebrows ride up, and I know I’ve fucked up. “Raine has frequent nightmares?”

Fuck. “She just lost her mother. We comfort her as best we can. Aubrey’s mom is a school counselor, so she knows what to do. We’re doing everything she’s told us to do.”

The woman motions to the photo of Raine and me above the bed. “This is sweet.”

“Aubrey took that shot.” I’m about to add, “It’s from my first meeting with my daughter.” But when Irealize the comment would only emphasize the short amount of time that’s passed since that magical moment, I shut the fuck up about that and, instead, offer, “I’m going to get some framed photos of Raine’s mother for her room. Photos of Aubrey and Aubrey’s parents, too. I have a shelf of family photos in my room, and Raine liked that, so I told her I’d make a shelf like that for her, too.”

“Is Raine included in your collection of family photos?”

I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s the first answer I feel great about. “She’s front and center. Would you like to see?”

“Yes, please.”

As the woman follows me out of Raine’s bedroom, I babble, “I’m always going to honor Claudia’s memory, and so will the Capshaws. And, of course, no matter what happens, the Capshaws will always be a huge part of Raine’s life. She loves all of them, and so do I.”

I didn’t mean to say that last part. It just slipped out. And now, I don’t know if I’ve fucked myself over or helped my cause. Either way, the truth is the truth: I love Aubrey and her parents. Not because I’ve been forced to hang out with them for the past month. Not because of our shared love of Raine. But because they’re my family now, every bit as much as Miranda. And so is Claudia, I suddenly realize, through all the people I love who loved her.

When we get to my room, the social worker leans down to study the photo of Raine. “What an adorable shot. She’s beaming with happiness.”

My heart flutters hopefully. “That was taken at my lake house in Montana. Raine loved playing with her sand toys there. I bought her a set for this house, too, so she can continue making mud pies for everyone.”

The woman seems like she’s trying to suppress a smile. But she says nothing as she makes another note. When shelooks up again, all traces of her smile are gone; she’s all business again. “All right, Mr. Baumgarten. I think I’ve got what I need, in terms of the environment. Let’s bring in Aubrey and Raine for their interviews now. I’ll talk to Aubrey first; and then to Raine in her bedroom. And then, hopefully, your sister, if she makes it here before I’m done.”

“Miranda’s on her way now.” I hold up my phone by way of explanation.

“Wonderful.”

I swallow hard and shift my weight. “I didn’t realize you’d be talking to Raine separately. I thought I’d get to be there. She’s really shy.”

“I promise it’ll be painless for her. We’ll play dolls in her room, or maybe draw or color; and while she’s playing and distracted, we’ll chat. I promise, by the end, she won’t even realize she’s been interviewed.”

“She’s really, really shy, and I don’t want her feeling stressed.”

“Neither do I, I assure you. I promise I’ll be very gentle with her. I’ve been doing this for twenty years, Mr. Baumgarten. She’s in good hands.”

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