Finding Home

by Meg Harding

  He got ice cream on his way to the registers.

  There were only two open and both had decent sized lines, so he settled in to wait behind an older couple arguing over hangers. He tuned them out, ticking through a mental checklist of things he needed to do. He should call his mom. And he needed to email his resume around. Tomorrow, Elliot wanted Jaden to work at the gym, doing what, Jaden didn't know. Maybe they'd have him work the front desk. He really didn't want to. That was way too much stranger interaction for him. They’d interrogate him to death probably. Jaden worried his bottom lip. He'd offer to look at the gym’s books.

  He startled at the tap to his shoulder, nearly dropping his Twizzlers to the floor.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

  Chase was behind him in line, an easy, somewhat sheepish smile on his face. He wore damp boardshorts, a tank top which clung to his wet chest, nipples peaked and standing proud, and a pair of black slip-on Vans. He had a cart full of groceries.

  Jaden searched for words and the strength to look at Chase’s face and no lower.

  “You all right?” asked Chase.

  Now would be a good time to talk. “Peachy,” he said, immediately regretting it. Peachy? He’s peachy?

  “Haven’t heard that one in a while,” said Chase, huffing a quiet, low chuckle. “You been enjoying your tour of Serenity?”

  If Jaden focused on Chase’s forehead and the barely there creases, he could have this discussion like a normal person. “I have. It’s a lovely place.” He wasn't just saying that, either. Serenity wasn't overly “small town,” and the people were friendly enough. It was scenic and the air was so fresh. It helped that his grandmother’s house was set away from others, and he didn't have to deal with neighbors. That alone endeared him to this place. It was nice to not hear sirens and shouting all night. “They’ve got more energy than me, though.” Jaden came home from days out with them and collapsed on the couch, only getting up (reluctantly) when Magneto whined to be let out.

  Chase grinned broadly. They shuffled forward as the line moved incrementally.

  “They introduce you to the nightlife here?”

  “There’s a nightlife?” asked Jaden seriously. He couldn't picture anyone in this town going clubbing.

  Chase tilted his head back when he laughed, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Jaden’s gaze fixated on the stretch of tan skin. He wanted to kiss it, to trace his tongue over the movement. He bit his lip before he could accidentally blurt his desire out.

  “Yeah, there’s a nightlife. Not a huge one, but we’ve got some bars. It isn't party central or anything, but it’s a nice way to get a buzz and a laugh. Ask them to take you to Bar Down. It’s got a mechanical bull.”

  The words were out of Jaden’s mouth before he could think about them. “Why don’t you take me?”

  Chase’s green eyes went wide, his lips parted. It took him a second, and then he said, somewhat hesitantly if Jaden wasn't mistaken, “Sure. How about Friday night?”

  This was Jaden’s chance to say Chase didn't have to. Sure, he brought Jaden dinner once, that didn't mean he was responsible for showing Jaden a good time. Jaden’s cheeks flushed with warmth. That was poor wording on his part. There would be no showing of a “good time.” Nope. Thank God he was thinking this and not verbally expressing himself.

  “Friday night is good,” he said.

  Since Jaden had arrived, he’d been in three rooms in his grandmother’s house: the kitchen, the living room, and the bathroom. He kept sleeping on the couch. It was large and cushy, and the plush throw was one of the softest things he’d ever felt in his life. Crashing there felt less weird than crashing in a strange bed.

  Despite the ever present desire to explore the house, he’d managed to show restraint—helped along by his brothers keeping him crazy busy. This house belonged to his grandmother, but it wasn’t like he knew her. He couldn't even remember the times he’d met her. It felt wrong to look through her things. He wouldn’t want someone he didn’t know well going through his stuff—whether he was dead or not. But curiosity was winning and his brothers had been so free with sharing themselves.

  He wanted to get to know his grandmother without having to ask prying questions to three grieving men, and if he found something about his father while doing so… it’d be a bonus.

  A quick perusal of the kitchen revealed a container he could empty the Twizzler bag into once he’d washed it, and he tucked it under his arm, ready to munch and snoop at the same time. The ice cream went in the freezer. He'd get to it next. If he walked and tried to eat it, he’d end up wearing it.

  Before he got started, he called his mom, thanks to the sudden realization he hadn’t even told her he’d made it safely to Serenity. The phone rang and rang. Voicemail came on. “This is Catherine Matthews. State your business, and if it’s appropriate, I will get back to you.” She wasn't as robotic as the automatic machine, but it was a close call.

  “Hi Mom,” he said, trying to peel apart a clump of Twizzlers with one hand. “Just checking in. Still alive, and I’m in Serenity. It’d be nice if you called me back. Bye.” He’d learned if he didn't clarify he’d like a return call, he wouldn’t get one. His mom loved him— just in her own special way.

  He walked a lap around the house, not touching anything, merely looking. He’d already seen the pictures hanging in the hallway and the living room, but he took the time to stop and truly see them now. His brothers’ smiling faces, people that looked like ants at the beach playing in the surf, a crowd at a barbecue. They were scenes from his grandmother’s life, moments forever frozen in time.

  Her bedroom was bright, light yellow and a silvery gray. Her bed was perfectly made, the decorative pillows all in place at the head of it. The nightstand beside it had a cup of water, half empty, and reading glasses rested beside it. The surface of her antique dresser had a Stephen King novel on it, with a delicate silver ring and a cross necklace sitting on top. Her fluffy, cheetah print robe was hanging from the back of the door, and there was a pair of plaid pajama bottoms slung over the comfy looking chair in the corner.

  His brothers hadn’t touched this room. He wondered if it was because they couldn't bring themselves to. Otherwise they’d have at least removed the glass of water. Uncomfortable with the air of grief, he backed out and continued on with his inspection.

  The guest bedrooms were all fairly standard, like something out of a bed and breakfast, until he opened the door to the last one. It wasn't a guest bedroom. It was an office. There was a cherry wood desk with an Apple monitor perched on it. To the side was a state of the art printer, and the walls were covered with shelves. There were books and binders, and the desk had a pile of paper beside the keyboard.

  He didn't know why he was surprised. She was a businesswoman. She’d need an office.

  It was on the shelves, tucked in the far corner, that he found the photo albums. They were thick, the old school kind where the pictures were crammed three by three into the flimsy covers. None of the cracked, worn leather spines were labeled.

  He started with the first one, folding to the floor and popping a Twizzler into his mouth before dragging it into his lap. The cover was peeling, black leather edging away from the cardboard underneath. He smoothed a wrinkle down, and then hesitantly—as if a snake might jump out and bite him—opened it.

  The picture was black and white, but the woman in it was beautiful as she stood grinning from ear to ear in front of rose bushes in a long white dress. There was a bouquet clasped in her hands, and her veil was mid-flutter behind her head. The space where a man should be standing beside her was scribbled over with black marker.

  Jaden’s eyes widened.

  He flicked through the album, noting missing spaces in the pictures and more marker coverage. He was going to go ahead and assume that his grandmother—at least that was who he thought the woman in the pictures was—didn’t have a happy ending type of marriage.

  His gaze caught on
the inscription on the back of the cover as he resettled the pages so he could properly close it. My baby is all grown up. To the rest of your life, Lily-Anne Macenroe. Macenroe was stroked through with a harsh slash, Bannister scribbled above it. The next album featured his grandmother, the pictures colored, and a tall man with navy blue eyes. He hadn't been scribbled out in these, and the inscription read Our first chapter. Toward the end of the book, he saw the baby bump. He traced his fingers over it.

  Heart pounding—he didn't know why, these were just pictures—he reached for the dark blue album that had been beside this one.

  It was filled with pictures of his father, the thing nearly bursting at the seams.

  There were baby pictures. And ones of him learning to ride a bike. He stood next to a sand castle at the beach. He was dressed to go to a school dance. He had his robes on for graduation. Other than his dark blue eyes, he looked nothing like Jaden. At least not that Jaden could tell from these pictures. His mom showed up in the last few pages, a baby in her arms, and by the final one, it was just Jaden and her in them.

  His dad had left the picture already.

  Every weekday for the last decade and a half almost, Jaden had gotten up when his obnoxious alarm went off at five thirty in the morning. He hadn’t slept past seven on a weekend since college, no matter how exhausted he was when he went to bed. Most nights he didn’t get to sleep till after midnight.

  Not having a job didn't allow for exceptions to this status quo. He needed to find a new one soon, and should his body decide it loved him enough to try and partake in copious amounts of sleep, he didn't want to be thrown off when he landed it. Because Jaden wasn't a morning person. His body might force him awake early, and he was able to roll from bed without hitting snooze, but it took a solid two coffees before he could say anything other than “fuck off” and grunt.

  When he dreamed, he dreamed of sleeping more.

  He was halfway through his first round of caffeine, at the alluring hour of six in the morning, when he heard something land with a thud and then shatter. Magneto started to bark from the backyard, where Jaden had stuck him upon waking, deep and loud. Jaden choked on his hot coffee, muscles tensing and senses going on alert. Should he call the cops? Let Magneto in? What if Magneto got hurt? No, he’d leave him in the backyard. Straining his hearing, trying to block out Magneto’s background howling, he caught the faintest sound of scuffling. Setting his cup aside, he reached for his phone and then, as he passed the hall closet, quietly opened it and grabbed the first thing his fingers touched. A Swiffer mop. He held it like a bat and tried not to drop his phone.

  The noises became louder the closer he was to the front door.

  Was there more than one person out there?

  Swallowing heavily, heart hammering, he brought his hands close to his face and, with some juggling, managed to call Elliot. He ducked out of sight of the door. Elliot picked up, sounding barely awake. “’Lo?”

  “I think someone’s trying to break in,” whispered Jaden. His palms were sweaty.

  “What? Jaden? Is everything all right?”

  Jaden repeated himself.

  “Man, I can’t understand anything you’re saying. You’re fucking mumbling. Is this a butt dial?”

  Jaden closed his eyes and prayed for patience. “I think someone’s trying to break in,” he said, a little louder, making sure to enunciate.

  “Ohhhh,” said Elliot, and then, “are you sure? We don’t get a lot of that in Serenity.”

  Jaden wished Elliot were in front of him so he could whack him with the mop. “There’s someone on the front porch. They’re making an awful lot of noise and something broke.”

  “Ah.” There was a clinking sound. “You’re not being burglarized. It’s raccoons. Maybe a bear, but probably the raccoons. I’ll come over. You won’t be able to get out of the house if they’re in a mood.”

  Jaden pulled the phone away from his ear and stared incredulously at it. He was being robbed by raccoons? “Excuse me?”

  “Be there in a few minutes.” The bastard hung up on him.

  In disbelief, thinking surely a prank was being pulled on him, Jaden marched for the front door and peeked out the windows on the side. He didn't see anyone, but it was dark and he couldn't see much at all. Feeling like a moron in a horror film, hand shaking, he flicked the porch light on, and then unlocked the front door and flung it wide. He kept the mop held high in case he needed to brain someone.

  His jaw dropped, and when the posse of raccoons in front of the door turned as one to hiss at him, little fangs bared, he stumbled back a step and slammed the door.

  Elliot wasn’t kidding.

  Jaden was being held hostage by a wild herd of raccoons. He rubbed his forehead, a headache already starting to pound at his temples. This wouldn’t happen in New York. The wildest thing he saw there was a squirrel.

  These were definitely not squirrels. They were upending the potted plants sitting on the porch, nosing around, climbing up to bat at the bird feeders. He was one hundred percent convinced if he stepped out the door, they'd converge on him. He wasn't a runner. He wouldn’t be able to escape. Watching them gave him anxiety, so he retreated to let Magneto in, and then to the kitchen to finish his coffee. Maybe once he was fully awake this situation wouldn’t seem so surreal.

  From the kitchen window over the sink, he had a view of part of the driveway. He kept an eye out for Elliot, and for the raccoons, on the off chance they fled the scene. He didn't see them leave, but he saw Elliot pull up, his headlights blinding Jaden.

  He wasn't sure what to do. Jaden couldn't go out and meet him, the little beasts were in his way. He called Elliot instead.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Nah, we’ve got this.”

  Jaden headed to the front door. Magneto stood in front of it, nose to the seal, growling menacing-like, even though he was a big softie and would probably run from the raccoons if they hissed at him. “We?”

  Elliot made a clicking noise. “I brought Phoenix. Lily-Anne used to feed these guys, and we didn’t think about it and haven’t been leaving anything out for them. We’re gonna give them some food and get them out of your way, don’t worry. You still up for coming into the gym with us? We were thinking you could work some shifts, see what it’s like.” Elliot was, as ever, long-winded.

  Jaden tried to wrap his mind around feeding wild raccoons. He couldn't. Magneto was on his hind legs now, paws pressed to the window along with his snout. He was taller than Jaden like this and looked insane. “Yeah, I’m still coming in,” he said, reaching to grab Magneto’s collar and lightly tug. “Get down before you break something,” he scolded.

  “What?”

  “Sorry, I wasn’t talking to you,” said Jaden. Magneto wasn't budging, and he couldn't see around his horse sized frame. He watched Magneto, who watched Elliot, Phoenix, and the raccoons presumably, and he listened to Elliot breathe in his ear and coax the animals away from the house. It took about twenty minutes, but eventually the area was cleared and Elliot said he could come out.

  “So this is normal?” Jaden asked when he opened the door to his brothers’ smiling faces.

  They both laughed. Phoenix crouched to get on Magneto’s level, holding a hand out for inspection. “If you leave food out for them, yeah.”

  Elliot squeezed by them, grinning mid-yawn and clapping Jaden on the shoulder. “Welcome to the country life.”

  Jaden’s brows flew up. He was half serious, half joking, when he asked, “Do I need to worry about bears?” Please say no.

  Phoenix glanced up from rubbing Magneto’s ears. “We don’t get a lot of them around here, so you should be fine.”

  Totally not the answer Jaden wanted. With visions of bears leaping from behind his car and mauling him playing through his head, he leaned against the wall. “Lily-Anne… our grandmother, she fed wild animals?”

  “I came by my love of them naturally, apparently,” said Phoenix, crossing his eyes
at Magneto. “The love for the furry and four-legged is in my blood. Before the cancer got bad, she used to foster a lot of the domestic animals I rescued.” His eyes were sad, but he shook his head and smiled wide. “I told her not to leave food out, cause they get cranky when you miss days, but she said she’d never miss a day. And she never did, for the most part.”

  Elliot had a fond, kind of distant, look in his eyes. “We’ll bring some food for you to leave out while you’re here. Don’t worry about it.”

  Was bowflex the modern word for medieval torture device? Jaden thought it was. “I’m good,” he said to Zane, who kept trying to get him to use said contraption. “It isn't really my thing.” Gyms weren't his thing, period. He walked, and he trekked up stairs, and lifted boxes of files. That was about it. Weights and ellipticals and rowing machines didn’t exist in his world. Certainly not when the use of them had to take place in front of strangers.

  No thanks. Maybe he should have asked to watch Elliot work with his patients in physical therapy instead.

  Zane sighed, shoving his hands down the pockets of his blue running shorts. “We have classes here too. Why don’t we check some of those out?”

  “I thought I was supposed to be working,” said Jaden, feeling guilty for the undercurrent of exasperation in Zane’s tone. “Experiencing what you guys do.” They’d made no secret of the fact they hoped he’d love this place as much as them and stick around. He’d opened his mouth to tell them it was just not going to happen so many times, and every single time, he couldn't get the words past his throat. He felt like he was leading them on.

  “Well,” said Zane, shrugging, “this is what we do. I handle personal training and equipment upkeep. I figured you’d find it boring if I just had you shadow me all day.” He scratched his stubbled cheek, gaze lowering to the floor and voice dipping an octave with awkwardness. “We want to get to know you, and we can’t exactly take every day off, so….”