When The Rain Falls

33. Talking to Photos

33 TALKING TO PHOTOS

AIMEE

"Aimee. Want to pose for my BeReal?" Ruby asks as she walks up beside me and shoves her phone in my face.

"What's a BeReal?" I ask, batting her phone away with one hand. My other hand is busy reaching into the mixing bowl and pulling out a nice glop of cookie dough.

"It's an app. It sends you a random alert during the day and you're supposed to take a picture of whatever you're doing and post it," she explains. Ruby poses for the picture. She smiles. I pretend to eat her face. She takes the photo and laughs.

It’s been two days since Finn told me the truth. Last night, I snuck over after the girls went to bed. Two hours later, I slinked back out the front door, two orgasms and one nickname—greedy girl—richer. Having Finn as my neighbor is like having thigh-quivering oral sex on tap.

“So, what exactly are we making?” she asks.

“Tacos. But cookies first,” I explain. “Dessert is the most essential part of a meal. It's the last thing you eat. So you have to make it first to make sure it’s just right.”

When I saw Ruby come home off the bus this afternoon, I decided to come hang out with her. Julie’s at band practice and I know Finn doesn’t like her to be alone. She was bored and somehow, we landed on the activity of cooking dinner. Ruby claims her taste buds have been permanently scarred from Finn’s cooking and she’s tired of eating turkey and ketchup sandwiches. Apparently, he always forgets to buy mayonnaise.

“That sounds like something Dad would call complete and utter bullshit ,” Ruby says. “But he would use more f-words.”

I laugh and pull out a drawer looking for a cookie sheet. I try a series of drawers before I pull one out to find a collection of random pictures and scraps of paper. My hand gravitates to the stack of glossy 4x6 photos. Family photos. From at least a decade ago.

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 exactly am I 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 was one bad 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 is my 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.