Page 97 of Kaine

I sit down on the bed and motion for her to join me. She nudges my legs apart and settles on my lap.

“Is this your mother?” I ask her, gesturing to the photo.

“Yep. She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Yes. You two look so alike.”

“No, she was really pretty,” her voice is wistful as her eyes soften, resting on the smiling face in the picture.

“And you are simple stunning. You look just like her, Jade.”

She reaches over and traces the edge of the photo frame with her finger.

“Do you, do you think the reason I became a genealogist is because in some way I’m looking for my own lost family?”

I look at her, and I know my answer is important, not just off the top of my head. So, I give her the question the time it deserves. And then I tell her what the answer was always going to be anyway.

“No, sweetness, I don’t.”

“No?”

“I think you know exactly where family is, every moment of every day.”

“Where?”

“There,” I point at her chest.

“Not my tit, again,” she jokes, and playfully nudged me with her elbow.

“Close. But, no. These people, your grandparents, your brother, your mother. They’re not just in pictures frames, in Harrisonburg, in rehab clinics. They’re there, in your heart, always. Just remember that when you miss them. And you know what?”

“What?”

“You’re in theirs.”

She sighs and rests her head against my shoulder.

“So, no. I don’t think that’s why you chose to follow a career in genealogy. I think it’s because you treasure your experiences with family so much, that you want to help others find theirs.”

“You know, when I first met you, your first words to me were, ‘you’re going to be okay.’”

“Yeah?”

“But then after, your words were mainly made up of variations of ‘go away, Jade.’”

“I’m not sure where this is going is going to be a good place for me.”

“I just thought you should know, you’re much better with words now,” she grins at me.

“I’m learning! How’s this - wanna fuck?” I lean over and kiss her neck.

“Sure,” she purrs.

“Why, Miss Sinclair, I do believe we’re about to take the virginity of this bedroom.”

“On second thought, maybe not,” she pulls away.

“Why?”

“Because I’m guessing, if I could hear my grandparents in their bedroom, they’ll probably be able to hear us in mine,” she says, screwing up her face.

“Oh my God, I’m never going to be able to look Grampy in the eye again.”

“Well, you better, I doubt they’d appreciate you staring elsewhere.”

“Ruined. You’ve ruined the Gramps for me, forever,” I shake my head.

“Hey, don’t scoff, if they weren’t so randy, there wouldn’t be me.”

“Okay. You’re right. But let’s get out of here before we give Gramps a reason to not look me in the eye.”

She pulls me to my feet and I wait at the door as she takes one last look around.