She is standing
out in the rain without a coat, eyes closed, twirling, getting as cold and wet
as she can possibly get.
There are a
million thoughts that run through my head, but rising above them all was that
she was going to catch a cold.
Bella, my
stepmom, sat on the couch, green eyes fixed directly on me.
They have a hard
edge, but no harder than normal. She is silently asking what I am doing.
"Coy's gonna
catch a cold out there."
My dad turns from
the stove. "I wouldnt worry about that, son."
Bella opens the
window.
I walk over.
Coy looks
ecstatic and full of grief at the same time.
She is shouting
at the sky, dancing jerkily and then fluidly around the yard, never slipping.
"I have
stood here before inside the pouring rain,
With the world
turning circles running round my brain
I guess I'm
always hoping that you'll end this reign,
But it's my
destiny to be the Queen of Pain,
Queen of Pain,
I'll always be
Queen of Pain,
I'll always be
Queen of
Pain.."
I look over at
Bella as Coy momentarily stops singing, If you can call screaming your grief
and rage to the sky singing.
She has a deep
look in her eyes.
She glances up at
me, and her eyes soften.
"Come sit
down, Cole."
I hesitate, then
sit by her.
Plenty of times I
had thought of how beautiful she was, but she was my stepmom, and years older
than me. There was just something about her that no one could resist.
She smiles at me,
tight and small amid her black lipstick.
"She just
needs to shout at whoever's up there sometimes."
I nod. I feel the
same way sometimes, but I don't have the nerve to go stand in the middle of a
storm and scream at the clouds.
Bella readjusts
her cloak. It slides over my arm, smooth and warm.
Coy steps inside.
She looks
triumphant, and hollow.
My dad hands her
a cup of tea. She grins at him, and walks to where Bella and I are sitting.
She sits down,
getting the couch wet, but Bella merely reaches over and moves a soaked strand
of hair off of Coy's face.
Coy closes her
eyes, and leans her head on Bella's shoulder.
Bella strokes her
hair slowly, closing her own eyes in turn.
I watch as Bella's
hand moves pale and thin along Coy's dark gold hair, wet from rain.
The smell of
cooking lobster meets my nose, and boiling water warms my ears.
I hear my dad
cooking in the kitchen.
Oh yes, sometimes
I understand Coy quite well.
We're very similar,
her and I.
This is my
family.
It's not normal,
and times like these are few.
But who would
really want a normal family?
I close my eyes,
breathing in a slight tang of wet dog, Bella's dark flowery scent, and the
lobster cooking.
This is my family,
and I love them.