When The Rain Falls

17. The Moves

17 THE MOVES

FINN

I straighten out the collar of my suit jacket in front of the full length mirror. Something's off. My dark blue suit makes the white of my shirt pop crisply. No wrinkles. Maybe it's the tie. I straighten out the knot of a greyish blue tie with white paisley patterns across it.

"Babe, think I should go with the red one?" I look over at Laurel. She's standing beside me wearing an old bathrobe over a tank top. The robe is falling open and my eye catches on where the outline of a nipple poking through her t-shirt. Even tired and mussed, she's still stunning.

She's got Vivian propped on her hip. She's always holding Vivian. How's the kid supposed to learn to walk? Viv sucks on a fist and grips Laurel's shoulder tightly. As Laurel and I talk, Viv whips her head back and forth. It always seems like she understands what we're saying. I know that's silly. She's only eleven-months-old.

"You're worrying too much," she assures. "You look hot." She eyes me up and down.

"I don't want to look hot. I want to look trustworthy." I throw my hands in the air in frustration over a knot that won't straighten properly. I feel a little guilty because I get to dress in nice clothes and go to work. She'll be home all day, managing two small terrorists. She says she loves it, but I know she's also anxious to get back to work.

"Exactly and red is a power tie. It's too aggressive. You can wear that one to bed tonight." She throws me a wink.

I'm a flutter of nerves, but I laugh at her comment.

"Just be yourself and the jury will love you. You got this." She turns to the baby on her hip and pushes a finger into Vivian's nose. "Won't they, Viv?" Vivian wrinkles her nose and sneezes.

"I hope so, because they won't love my client. What did you think of my opening line?"

"Finn, stop! You're starting to overthink. It's just pregame jitters. You'll undo all the hard work you put in."

"You're right. I am overthinking." I check my phone. "Oh shit. I need to go."

"Vivian wants to give you a goodbye kiss." She holds Viv out to me. I rub my face into her belly to make her laugh. Two slobbery hands grip my hair as laughter erupts from her mouth. Laurel pulls her back, fixes my hair, and gives me her own kiss. A face melting, sweet kiss. One of my favorites.

"Knock 'em dead."

"Laur, it's a wrongful death case. Probably not the best phrase."

Laurel chuckles as I grab my briefcase and head out the door of our bedroom.

Laughter spills out from under the bathroom doorway. It's a tiny bathroom. I have no idea how three people can fit in there. I return my attention from the closed door in the hallway back to the task at hand. I'm spreading a thick layer of mayonnaise over a slice of bread when another wave of uproar hits my eardrums. I rest the hand that's clutching the knife against the edge of the counter and sigh with exasperation.

"Woah." Aimee's voice is vibrant and unmistakable. "That's too much. Like way too much. Do you want to look like a hooker?" Ruby and Julie giggle. I try not to roll my eyes. I've been rolling my eyes all evening and they're starting to hurt from all the strain.

"I don't think I can take anymore," Vivian says as I set the slice of bread on top of the rolled-up turkey to complete her sandwich. I slide the plate across the counter and brace both hands on the countertop.

"You and me both, kid," I tell her.

There's another eruption of giggles. We both turn our heads back to the closed bathroom door. Vivian winces painfully. I feel my soul do the same.

" Oh, Rocky !" Vivian feigns a sigh. " Do you like me now? Now that I look like a completely different person with too much lipstick? " Vivian says in a high-pitched school girl voice. I train my eyes on her. "Like lipstick will do the trick," she finally huffs, rolling her eyes.

"Do what trick?" I ask. Vivian drops her sandwich and rolls her head back with a sigh. Like it's the stupidest question I've ever asked.

"Have you been living under a rock?" she asks me. "It's all she's been talking about all week."

"Vivian. Kill the sass and tell me." Before Vivian can answer, the bathroom door creaks.

When the door flies open, Julie comes out first. She's wearing a knee-length, navy blue dress with sequin accents and low black heels. Julie's a shy girl and seems embarrassed by her transformation. She clutches an arm to her side. When I smile at her, she smiles awkwardly back.

Aimee steps out next. She's walking backwards, ass-first, on long legs as she continues to mess with Ruby's hair. When Ruby steps into the hallway, my world stands still. The air vanishes from my lungs. I can't breathe. She's wearing a deep green dress with tiny straps. The dress flows down her waist to her knees. Her legs end in nude-colored heels. Tresses of dark hair rest in beautiful loose curls at her shoulders. She's wearing fire-engine red lipstick and a thick layer of eyeliner. She's not a little girl. Not in the slightest. She looks like Laurel. I'm floored. Pressure begins to build up behind my eyeballs and they start to sting.

"Ta-da!" Aimee says proudly as she throws her hands towards the girls. She's smiling like she's the sun itself, radiating warmth and brightness. "They do not look like hookers."

Unlike Julie, Ruby stands tall and confident. She raises her chin slightly as I take her in. When our eyes catch, I'm nearly at a loss for words.

"Beautiful," I manage to say around the thickness in my throat. I can't take my eyes off Ruby. That's my daughter? The same little girl who I used to swing from my arms?

"Wow, Ruby. You don't look like hot garbage," Vivian says. "Good job, Aimee."

"Thanks," Ruby says with biting sarcasm. " So , so much."

"I was complimenting Aimee. Not you," Vivian clarifies.

Ruby pinches her face in annoyance.

"And don't forget The Moves," Aimee says, adjusting a strap on Ruby's dress. What is she even talking about? I doubt I want to know.

"Isn't that all a little overkill?" Ruby asks, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. The three of them have meandered into the kitchen.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, propping my hands on my hips. But they keep talking like I'm not even here.

"Girl," Aimee sighs, "you can't just expect it to happen. You gotta lay the foundation. That's why you need The Moves."

I have this strange feeling. It's a sense of foreboding. Like I'm on a train that's barreling towards a brick wall and there's nothing I can do to stop the impact.

"Follow The Moves," Aimee says. "And when you're done, his lips will be all over yours before he even knows it." Did she say lips ? I don’t like the sound of that. Not one bit.

"You do ninety percent of the work, and he'll do the last ten," Aimee adds.

"That doesn't make sense," whines Ruby.

"Try it without numbers," Vivian offers. "Math isn't her strength."

"Shut up." Ruby glares at Vivian. Ok. I guess it's just me that everyone's ignoring. I'm the biggest person here. That should count for something.

"Fine," Aimee says. "I'll just show you." She turns her head and looks straight at me. That crazy little devil is dancing in her eyes again. All the blood drains from my body and my bones turn to liquid. I think I know where this is going. And I don't like it.

"Ew. Not with him," Ruby says, twisting her face in disgust.

"Yeah," I tell her sternly, folding my arms across my chest. "Forget it. I'm not playing any part of this." Aimee's laugh is breezy and light, like my statement was some kind of hilarious joke.

"Relax. It's just a demonstration," she says. I remember our kiss last night. And I know if it happens again, I won’t be able to keep it short and sweet this time. Next time I kiss her, it’s going to be a real kiss. Open mouth. Tangling tongues. Fist in the hair. Her body against mine. Friction. Heat. All of it.

And I can’t do that here. Not with an audience. Especially when that audience is my children.

"First, get him alone. Then give him a compliment,” she continues. “Hey, bear, you have such thick strong arms." She leans in with a seductive smile and wraps a hand around my bicep. I have to admit, I like how thick my arms look in her delicate hand. I conjure every negative thought I've ever had in my life and channel it in her direction. "Tell me about your workout routine,” she continues.

"You already know my workout routine," I tell her, shrugging her off. "You've rudely interrupted it." Aimee snorts.

“The touch. That was the next move," she says, ignoring my comment and running a finger along my forearm. It takes everything I have to hold in the shiver threatening to break out across my flesh.

"You can add more touching, too,” she says. Good Lord. No more touching. This is getting dangerous. She places her hand against my chest. Her voice is breathy and soft as she circles a finger around my left pectoral, right over my heart. I stand my ground like a soldier being barraged by cannon fire. She really should stop looking at me like that, it’s impacting the rhythm of my breathing.

"Then use your soft eyes,” she adds, batting thick eyelashes at me. For absolute fuck’s sake. Does this woman have a degree in seduction? Why are her eyelashes so long? "Then stare right at his lips." I drift my gaze to the wall behind her. Aimee steps closer until we're practically brushing up against each other. And all I can think about is Aimee pressing her lips against mine. I can control my thoughts. I can control my thoughts.

"It will make him think about your lips," she continues. "And?—"

For fuck’s sake. That shit actually worked.

“—This bullshit doesn’t actually work,” I yell, quickly jerking my head back.

“If it doesn’t work, then why do you look so flustered?” Aimee asks, a glint of humor in her eye.

"Don't listen to her. She's on the insanity spectrum," I warn Ruby. “And you. You keep your lips to yourself." I scoop the keys off the counter and grip them in my fist.

"Oh my god, Dad." Ruby rolls her eyes. "Why is everything an issue with you?" Ruby grabs Julie's arms and starts walking to the front door.

Aimee pats my back with a there, there gesture of consolation. Like I just lost a fight. But the only thing I'm really losing is my goddamn mind.

I walk behind them to the foyer. All except Vivian who elects to stay home. According to Vivian, she'd rather burst both her eardrums than have to listen to another word about homecoming. Aimee makes the girls pose for pictures by the front door.

"Here we go," she exclaims, snapping the last one. "A couple of certified baddies being released into the wild!" Ruby and Julie shuffle out the door and then it's just the two of us for one quiet second. She grins at me. "Ready, bear?"

"No," I tell her, running a hand down my face. I don't know why, but nerves are starting to bubble up out of nowhere. It's just a dance. Why do I feel so heavy? "I'm not ready for any of this shit. Yesterday, Ruby was prancing around in a princess nightgown singing Disney songs. Now she's...well. You know."

"It'll be fine," she says. "Everything always turns out fine." What the fuck does she know about fine? What the fuck does she know about anything other than being a cheery pain in my ass? A pain in the ass that makes my nerves do funny things when she's near. A pain in the ass that...shit. That has a really nice ass. My eyes wander over her backside as she turns and walks out the door.

“Bear?” she asks. “Why are there couch cushions in the driveway?” As I walk towards the van, I see them—three blue cushions lined up along the driveway. Where I set them out to dry in the sun after scrubbing them down earlier in the day.

“Ask your damn cat why it pissed on my couch,” I mutter. I walk to the van and lean against the driver’s side door while Aimee walks around to the passenger side.

"You can go home," I tell her, nodding across the street. "I'll take them." I'm not just offering to be nice. It's a desperate attempt to put distance between us. Because it's getting harder and harder to maintain control around her. Inside the box of my carefully drawn boundaries.

"Are you trying to get rid of me?

"No." Yes. Fucking yes .

"What would I do at home?” she asks, a hint of flirtation in her voice. But I don’t bite.

"I don't know. Go to bed? Plot the destruction of the known universe? Whatever you do when you're alone." I pull open the door and prepare to step in.

"You want to know what I do when I'm alone?" Aimee quirks an eyebrow suggestively.

"No," I growl. Yes. Fucking yes.

She tilts her head back and laughs.

"Ok, then," I say, jingling my keys to give her the hint that it’s time for her to leave. "Goodnight."

"No, thanks," she says as she opens the passenger door and eases herself in.

I tried. For fuck's sake. I goddamn tried.

I pull up behind a red Mustang outside Pt. Evan’s High School. The Mustang is vibrating from the sounds blaring through its speakers. In front of us, car doors are slamming and groups of teenagers are meandering to the front of the auditorium. I barely get the van in park before Ruby and Julie pile out of the van with their made-up faces and dresses.

Aimee’s practically vibrating with excitement, much like the Mustang in front of us. I’m much less excited about the whole thing. There will be chaperones, I remind myself. It will be fine. Calm. Calm. Calm.

"Meet me here at nine-thirty," I call out through Aimee's open window.

Ruby spins around. "Ten," she says.

"Nine-thirty," I say. "Sharp."

"Ok. See you at ten!" Ruby yells as she runs towards the front door of the auditorium. She's stomping indelicately in her kitten heels. A skinny boy in a suit approaches Ruby and Julie. His hair is a thick, unruly mop on his head. I feel my shoulders tense as he exchanges words with the girls. I briefly wonder if that’s Rocky. I don't have much time to investigate, though, because they quickly disappear inside. And that's it. My daughter just walked into her first high school dance. I can't help but feel like she's walked into a den of hungry wolves. She doesn't even look back to give me a wave. Not the way she used to do when I dropped her off at school.

"They're adorable," Aimee says, watching out the window as I drive away.

I don’t say anything. I’m trying not to spiral. My daughter has the body of a woman and I just dropped her off in a hormone infested cesspool. Is this how it's supposed to be? You just let them out into the wild and hope that they make smart choices? Anxiety rises like bile in my throat. I wish Laurel was here. To see her. To do this with me.

The stinging is back in my eyes. My heart starts to race and my head feels hot. My knuckles turn white as I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. Is this what a panic attack feels like?

"You ok?" Aimee asks as she plays with the stereo.

"Fine," I growl at her. Except, I don't recognize my voice. My heart feels like someone doused it with gasoline and shoved a match deep into one of its chambers. All the muscles in my back and chest tighten up at once. My vision starts to blur around the edges. It's probably not safe for me to drive like this.

When we reach the driveway to a ballpark near the school, I pull off the road and park on the gravel. Aimee looks up at me confused.

"I need a minute," I tell her, unbuckling my seatbelt and stepping out of the van.