When Rain opened the door, Graham stared in at her with red-rimmed eyes, his face tear-streaked.
His chin shuddered when he spoke. “Can I come in?”
Rain glanced over her shoulder into her apartment as if expecting some objection from the furniture. The only objection came from the fifth of Jack half empty on the coffee table. Jack wanted her to send the boy home so they could finish their deep conversation about the suck-ass nature of the universe.
Rain looked back to Graham. His shoulders were pinched up practically to his ears and he had a hard time lifting his eyes to meet hers. He would peek at her from under his eyebrows, then snap his gaze back to the floor as if something about her scared him. Which was fucked up, considering she was his mother.
She stepped aside. “Sure thing.”
Graham slinked by her.
“Where's your dad?”
He froze in the center of the room, looking so unsure and out of place Rain wanted to hug him. So why didn't she? Wasn't that her right as a mother?
Not according to that fucking judge.
“He's at home, I guess.”
“Obviously he doesn't know you're here.”
“I stole his car.”
She laughed. “Very funny.”
He turned to her, raising his chin. “I did. I can show you. It's parked outside.”
“You don't look like a car thief.”
“Everyone thinks they know so much about me.”
Rain glanced at the bottle on the coffee table. “You need a drink or something?”
Graham's brow wrinkled. “I'm only seventeen.”
“If you're stealing cars, what's a drink or two gonna hurt?”
“I didn't come here to get made fun of.”
She lifted a hand, but couldn't muster the guts to actually reach out and touch him. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make fun. I'm just a little . . . you know? Surprised to see you.”
Graham shrugged and finally took a seat on the chair furthest from the coffee table. Yet his eyes remained locked on the Jack bottle as if he feared it might snap out and bite him.
Rain took her usual spot on the couch that had grown so used to the shape of her ass, the cushions barely moved when she sat.
She topped off her glass of Jack. “Of all the places you would go after stealing a car, why here?”
“I wanted to see you.”
She leaned back with her glass and took a sip, her gaze keeping Graham in sight over the top rim. “You're not supposed to, you know.”
“So?”
She couldn't very well argue with that. There were a lot of things in this life you weren't supposed to do. That didn't always stop Rain.
“You and Ethan had a fight, I take it.”
“I don't want to talk about him.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Why are you such a screw up?”
Rain jerked back, sloshing a bit out of her glass. “That's a hell of a question.”
His shoulders had come down and squared. He met her gaze straight on.
“Am I wrong?”
“I might not have a perfect little life like you and your daddy, but I hold my own just fine.”
“Our lives aren't perfect.”
“Whose is?”
“So you're saying you aren't a screw up?”
She laughed, chugged some Jack too quickly, and burned the back of her throat. Coughing, she said, “You grew balls real quick there.” She slammed her glass down. “Did you come here to prove something, kid?”
He looked away.
“Shit. That's it, isn't it. The only reason you came over here was because you know your dad would hate it. Do me a favor and leave me out of your domestic squabbles. I got my own grief.”
“I just want to know why.”
“Why I'm a screw up? Fuck off, kid.” She stood and went to the door, opened it for him, and made a scooping motion to encourage him to leave. “I got some drinking to do.”
He stayed seated. “Do you care that Alison is dead?”
She looked to the bottle of Jack for comfort, but even Jack looked like he was waiting for an answer.
“You're a nasty little bastard, aren't you?”
Graham stood. “Sorry I interrupted your drinking.”
Rain slammed the door shut. “Sit down.”
He stopped short.
“You can't come in here, call me a screw up, tell me I don't care about Ali, then just waltz out.”
“I shouldn't have come.”
“It's too late now, isn't it? What the hell do you want from me? You want a hug? You want your mommy to hold you and say everything is gonna be okay?”
“I want to know how a mother could be so messed up it's illegal for her to see her own kids.”
Her cheeks grew hot. She wrenched the door open. “I changed my mind. Get out.”
“Fine.” He started for the door.
When he reached Rain, she grabbed his arm. “Wait.”
He shook her off. “Don't touch me.”
“You don't think I have a right to be pissed?”
“No.” Tears swelled in Graham's eyes. “I'm the one who should be pissed, but I gotta be the good son.”
“Good son? Where'd you get that bullshit from?”
“It doesn't matter.”
Rain shut the door again.
“You're nuts,” Graham said.
“Graham, whatever you think I can give you, you're wrong. I don't have answers, and I sure as shit don't have any advice.”
“I don't want advice.”
“Then what do you want?”
He hesitated, looked away.
“I don't have a place with you guys anymore. Ethan made that clear. There's nothing I can do.”
“Except get drunk.”
“I deal the way I deal.”
“I just . . . what happened? You and Dad were happy together. I remember you being happy.”
She studied him. His mussed hair. His big eyes. His bony limbs. He had been a chubby baby. All that chub had thinned out. Rain once thought Graham would be her tough son, take after his uncle a little. But she liked the way he had turned out.
“I forget, sometimes, that we actually got along, that we all lived together.”
“Not me.”
“Don't you remember all the yelling?”
“I remember that, too.”
Despite her best instincts, she brushed her fingertips through his hair. She half expected him to flinch at her touch.
He stiffened, but didn't pull away. “Everybody fights. That doesn't explain why I'm not allowed to see you.”
“Your dad must have told you something.”
“He doesn't give details. He just says you aren't good for me.”
“He's right.”
“Because you're a drug addict?”
“Is that what he says?”
Graham rolled his eyes, took her by the wrist, and lifted her arm, turning it to show the track marks dotting her flesh. “Do I look like an idiot?”
Rain jerked her arm away and folded both across her chest. “I don't know how to read you, kid.”
He smirked in a way that made him look just like Ethan.
It struck her that Graham was now the same age Ethan had been when Alison was born. “Want to try this again?”
“What do you mean?”
“Have a seat. I'll get you a soda. I'll tell you whatever I can.”
“Why the sudden switch?”
“Don't get mouthy with me, kid.”
That smirk again. He shuffled to the couch this time and took a seat next to Rain's usual spot.
“You like Dr. Pepper?” she asked.
“It's only, like, my favorite.”
And it came to her, a memory that had fallen so low below the filth between Then and Now she'd forgotten. Graham and her sitting on the back porch of her parents' house, sipping Dr. Peppers from glass bottles back when they put the stuff in glass bottles.
She grabbed two cans and brought them back to the couch. She handed one to Graham and popped open the other for herself, pouring some into her glass and swirling it to mix the Jack in.
Graham made a face while snapping open his can. “You mix it with that?”
“Beats Coke all to hell.”
“Nasty.”
“You don't know what's good.” She downed the contents of the glass and fixed herself another, tweaking the ratio of Jack and Dr. Pepper. “What exactly do you want to know?”
“How did you and dad meet?”
“Your uncle Lazaro and him were buddies. Laz brought him over and they were trying to take pictures of me in the shower with Mom's Polaroid.”
Graham snickered. “What did you do?”
“When I caught them sneaking in, I . . .” She sipped her drink, thinking back to what she had done and how that might look to her teenage son. “I said, 'hi.'“
He scrunched up his face. “You said 'hi?'“
God, this was going to be harder than she thought. “Let me tell you a story about your dad.”
He looked down at his can. “'Kay.”
She thought about Ethan coming into her apartment, throwing accusations at her, acting like he was perfect. Now, here was Graham, and here was her chance to set the record straight.
“Did he ever tell you what happened to his parents?”
He leaned forward a little, cupping his pop can in both hands. “He said they died in a fire.”
“But did he tell you how the fire started?”