FindingHome

FindingHome LaurenK.McKellar
Moody,atmospheric,andjustalittlebitpunk,FindingHometakescontemporaryYAtoa newlevelofgrit... WhenAmysmumdies,thelastthingsheexpectsistobekickedoffherdadsmusictourall thewaytoherAuntLouinadepressingholeofaseasidetown.ButitsokayAmylearned howtocopewiththebest,andsoonfindsaharddrinking,partylovingcrowdtohelpease thepain. Theonlysolaceishermusicclass,buteventhereshecantseemtokeepittogether, sabotaginghergradeandheronechanceatameaningfulrelationship.Ittakesahard truthfromheronlyfriendbeforeAmyrealisesthatshehastocometotermswithher past,beforeshedestroysherfuture.

ChapterOne

Amy,weneedtotalk,Dadsaid. Isatacrossfromhimatatableinacrowdedrestaurantthatwasfulloftheusual Sundaymorningtypes.DadlookedcompletelydifferenttothemanIdseenonstagethe eveningbefore.Then,hislookhadbeenslick:rippedjeans,designershirt;now,heappeared alotolderthanhis37yearsandmoretired.Hishairlookedamess,stickingupinallthe wrongplaces,andhisclothesweredated. Aboutwhat?Isippedmyorangejuice.Thecoolliquidhelpedmyhead,which throbbedfrommyeffortsoftheeveningprior. Yourbehaviourattheshow,hefinished.Ithadn'thappenedyet,butoh,yes, thereitwasthesigh.Thatinevitableexhalationthatalwaysseemedtooccurjustbefore Daddidsomethinghedidn'twanttodo.Youreseventeen.Youknowfullwellthatyou shouldn'tbedrinking. Im18inthreemonths.Andsowhat,anyway? Soyoucan'tkeepactinglikethis.Afrowncreasedhisface. Itwirledmystrawaround.Littleflicksofjuicespunupthesidesofmyglass,creating atiny,orangemosaic.It'snotlikeIdoitallthetime.Ishrugged. Justeverytimeyoucomeandseetheshow.Andwhenyou'renotattheshow, you'reinahotelroombyyourself. And? Andit'snotnormal,itsnothealthy,andIwantyoutostop.Heranhishands throughhisthickblackhairandstaredmedown.Hiscraggyfacewasaminefieldofpeaks andtroughs,andhehadthesortofdistinguishednosethatwouldmakeanactoronThe BoldAndTheBeautifuljealous.Itfeltweirdtothinkofthethousandsofmiddleaged womenwhohadworshippedhimonstagethenightbefore.Tome,hewasjustmydadand apainintheass,atthat. Aladystruttedherwayovertothetable.Excuseme,butcanIpleasegetyour autograph?Shethrewherblondecurlsoverhershouldersuntiltheywererestingonher doubleDsizedboobs,andthenshovedapieceofpaperunderDad'snose.Twotablesaway, agroupofwomenintheirearlythirtiesweregiggling,whispering,andpointinginour direction.Iavertedmygaze.Itwasenoughtomakemesick. Canwegetoutofhere?Isquirmedinmychair. Dadignoredme,signingthenapkinandmakingpolitesmalltalkwiththelady.She leanedforwardagainandtouchedhisshoulder,tossingherheadbackwhenshelaughed.It wouldonlybeamatteroftimebeforeshewouldreachedacrossthetabletograb somethingandaccidentallybrushherbreastsagainsthischest.Ithinkatinybitofvomit actuallybegantoworkitswayupmythroatandintomymouth. I'mleaving,Isaid,grabbingmybagfromthefloorbeneathme. Amy,wait. What?Ispunaround.Theblondehadretreatedtohertable,andDadwasnow indicatingIshouldsit.Idid,rollingmyeyesandlettingmybagslumptotheground.Idhad enough. Wesatinsilenceforawhile,studyingeachother.

Ithinkyoushouldgotoyouraunts. Foraholiday?Iasked,mybrowfurrowing. No,Amy,hesaid,sighing.ThatbroughtDadstotalcountforthedaytotwo.To live. Thewordsresonatedinmyhead,soundingoverandoveragain,likeIwasina churchhallorabadhorrormovie.Tolive,live,live,live. Dadwassendingmeaway. What?Why?Thequestionstumbledoutofmymouth.Whywashedoingthis?Was leavingmeforhisfansnotenough? Dadalmostwhisperedthewords.Justuntiltheendofhighschool.Heleanedover toputhishandonmyshoulder. Ishookitoff.Butbutwhy?Imgettinggoodgrades! ItsnotgradesImworriedabout,hereplied. Myvoiceroseinpanic.Youdontcareaboutmyeducation?Peoplehadstartedto stare. Ididntsaythat.IjustIthinkyoushouldgotoyourauntsandfinishyourstudiesat anactualschool.Heclaspedhishandstogether,interlockinghisfingersasifhewaspraying. Clearlyhehadntthoughthedbegettingthisreaction. ButIbarelyseeyouasitis. Thatsnottrue.Wespendallday,everydaytogether.ItsjustnightsthatIhaveto work. Sittinginthebackofabuswhilewedrivealloverthecountryhardlystrikesmeas qualitytime,Dad. Thenwhatdifferencedoesitmakeifyoureatyourauntsinsteadofhere? You'retryingtogetridofme.Hisquestionhurt,stabbingatmyinsides.Howcould hehatemesomuchthathedwanttosendmeaway? Imnottryingtogetridofyou,butthisbehaviourisunacceptableandyoujustdont listentome,hesaid.MaybestayingwithAuntLouwilldoyousomegood.Plus,thismeans youcanhangaroundpeopleyourownageagain. Icantbelieveyou,Iblurtedout. Itsforthebest.Illvisityou,and Itsforthebest?Iasked.Sure,Idonthaveamum,sowhatsbestformeistonot haveadad,too.Youknowyoudrovehertoit,right?Whathappenedtoherwasyourfault! Silence.Hisjawdropped,hiseyeswidened. AsfarasIwasconcerned,itwastrue.Ifhehadntdecidedtopursueacareerin music,wewouldntbehavingtheseproblems.Wewouldstillbelivinginouroldapartment, andDadwouldbespendingeverysparesecondwithme,teachingmethekeyboardand singingmetosleep. AndMumwouldstillbealive. Finally,hespoke.Itsonlygoingtobeforafewmonths.Nothingbetweenuswill change. Youreright,Ireplied.Istoodupandgrabbedmybagagain.Becauseyoudont reallyactlikemuchofafathernow,anyway. Oh,Amy.Mylifeisntnormal.Ionlywantthebestforyou,andIpromisedyour mumI'dgiveyouthat.Hisdarkeyesweredrawnandred.Lately,severewrinkleshadbegun todevelopatthecorners,eventhoughhewasonly37.Mydad,theagingcharttopper.

Ihatedhimandhisstupidjob.Howcouldhejustditchmeafterallwedbeen throughtogether? Dad,IpromiseI'llstopdrinking,Isaid,tryingtobargain.Don'tsendmeaway. Good.Hesmiled. Don'tleaveme,Iwhispered.Buthewasalreadyonthephone,respondingtoJoe, orhistourmanager,orhissoundguy,orpossiblyeventhepresidentoftheStevieDfan club. Itwasdone.Iwasleaving.Eventhoughafewmonthsagothishadbeenexactlywhat Idwanted,thingsweredifferentnow.Mumwasntbymyside,andwewerentleavingto escapethemadnesstogether.Mydad,theonlyimmediatefamilymemberIhadleftalivein thewholeworld,didntwantme.Now,Idhavenoone. OnethingwasforsuretherewasnowayIwasevergoingtoforgivemyfatherfor this.