Life After Falling

by Alyssa Rose Ivy

  He shook his head. “No thanks. How about we grab some coffee sometime instead? Are you staying at your parents’ house?”

  Oh dear god. “Yeah, I am.”

  “Do you have the same cell number from high school? I probably have it in my phone.”

  “Cassidy, honey!” Connie, the stylist who had been cutting my hair since the age of twelve, walked over. “All ready.”

  “I’ll call you tonight,” Brent called after us.

  I took a seat in the black chair that Connie’s clients always used.

  “Brent, huh? Not the worst choice.”

  “Oh, no. No. It’s nothing like that.” I could feel blood rushing to my face. “I don’t know why he’s even saying that.”

  She pumped up my chair so I sat higher. “He’s still looking at you.”

  “Ugh.”

  She laughed. “Maybe it will help take your mind off things.”

  “I have nothing to keep my mind off of.”

  Connie combed out my damp hair. “Your mom already told me.”

  “Of course she did.” I wasn’t surprised my mom had shared that information without talking to me first, but it still annoyed me. I wasn’t in the mood to be questioned about it.

  “She means well. You know that.”

  “I do know that, but really I’m fine.”

  “What you need is a good rebound. Brent wouldn’t be the worst, but I have some other ideas.” She used the side of her hand to brush back her purple streaked hair. She still looked thirty even though she was at least ten years past that now.

  “Oh, no thanks. I’m really excited to be single for a while.”

  “No, you aren’t.” She gave me a knowing look in the mirror.

  “How would you know?”

  “Because women always say that after a break up, but they don’t mean it. Sure, maybe you don’t want a committed relationship, but you want some action.”

  And the awkwardness continued. Discussing getting action with my childhood hairdresser hadn’t been on my to-do list. “I’m really doing fine.”

  “When you are done with the denial let me know.”

  “I only called off the engagement yesterday.”

  She covered me with a cloth. “All right, take some time.”

  “I will.”

  “So what are we doing for you today?” She quickly changed subjects.

  “Just a trim.”

  “Really? How about we add in some layers? Give you some movement.” She picked up my apparently unmoving hair.

  “Sure. Whatever you think would look best.”

  “Have you considered coloring your hair at all?”

  “Why? I already have natural highlights.”

  “By natural highlights do you mean gray hairs?” She cut the ends of my hair.

  “They look like blonde pieces.”

  Connie chuckled. “Were you always such an optimist?”

  “What?” I forced myself to stay still so she could cut evenly. “It’s not that bad.”

  “No, it’s not.” She paused.

  “But what? I know there is a ‘but’ coming.” You could always tell when someone was going to add in a frustrating aside.

  “You’re back on the dating market. Some clever highlights could help give you a younger look.”

  “I’m twenty-seven. I’m not old.”

  “Of course you aren’t old, but every little bit helps.”

  “I’m not interested in a guy who wouldn’t want me because of gray hair. That’s ridiculous.”

  “It might not even be conscious, but biologically a lot of men want younger women.”

  “Then I’ll spend my life alone. That’s fine.” I held onto the arm rests of the chair.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “So, how about them Yankees?” I was desperate to change the conversation.

  “I’m a Met’s fan.”

  “Ok. How about the Mets?”

  She laughed. “Anything to avoid the topic?”

  “I’m still recovering from my mom’s ambush.”

  “She loves you.” Connie trimmed some hair.

  “I know that.”

  “So give her a break.” She clipped some hair on the top of my head while she cut some more.

  “I’m trying. I’m here.”

  “You needed a haircut.” She took down the first section of hair and pinned up another.

  “Evidently I did. I keep hearing that.”

  “So what are your plans?”

  “While I’m here or for the rest of my life?”

  “Let’s start with while you’re here.”

  “Get my bearings. Apply for some jobs. Sort through old stuff.”

  “Sounds like you’ll be busy.” She repeated the clipping process with more hair.

  I wrinkled my nose. I had an itch but my hands were buried under the cloth. “I’m hoping I won’t be here too long.”

  “Good luck with that.” She continued cutting my hair. I looked in the mirror and watched her work. I’d have never been good at cutting hair. I didn’t have the patience to get it right.

  “What do you think of the length?” Connie smiled broadly.

  “Perfect.” It looked fine to me.

  “All right, let me blow it out and you’ll be all set.”

  “Thanks.”

  I zoned out while she dried my hair. Usually I used every second of down time to stress about work. I didn’t have to do that anymore. I should have enjoyed the feeling, but it left me more frustrated.

  Once Connie finished I handed her a tip. “Thanks. Love it.”

  “Great.” She hugged me. “It’s going to get better.”

  “I know.” I smiled.

  “If you want dating recs, just ask.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” I turned and walked up to the front desk to meet my mom.

  “Do you feel better?” Mom stood from her seat by the window.

  “Ah, yeah. Sure.”

  “I already paid.” She set down a magazine and headed toward the door.

  “Thanks.”

  “How about we get that coffee we skipped on the way over?”

  “Sure. Why not?” There were a lot of things I’d pass on in life, but caffeine wasn’t one of them.

  Four

  Fourteen times. I tried the tape fourteen times, and then one more for good measure. That good measure attempt was the downfall. I opened the tape player to find another tangled mess of tape.

  “No!”

  “Cassidy?” Mom opened the basement door. “Are you ok?”

  “I’m fine.” I sighed before slowly winding the tape in. The tape was even more twisted now. I was only making it worse.

  Clearly I wasn’t going to be able to fix the tape myself, so I stuffed the tape in my purse and walked upstairs. I found my mom sitting at the kitchen table. “I’ll be back later.”

  “Where are you going?” Mom asked worriedly.

  “Back to the store. I need help with this tape.”

  “Try to get home soon. I’m making dinner.”

  “Sounds good.” I walked out the front door and to my car.

  I was getting used to being back in my hometown. It was like seeing an old friend. At first it feels slightly off, like you’ve got vertigo, but soon you fall back into the rhythm.

  The door to Mr. Cheapo’s wouldn’t budge. I glanced at the business hours on the door and my watch. 6:02. I’d missed it by two minutes. If only I’d resisted that fifteenth attempt.

  I turned away from the store. Coming back in the morning wouldn’t be the biggest deal, but I didn’t feel like waiting. I’d end up obsessing over it all night. It was one of my issues. I couldn’t let things go, especially when I didn’t have anything else to keep my mind off of it. I turned back at the sound of the door opening.

  “You’re back?” Leo stepped outside onto the sidewalk.

  “Yeah, I’m back.” I smiled. Smiling usually went over much better than being pushy.


  “Was there a problem with the tape player? The batteries?”

  I shook my head. “No to both. It’s the tape.” I held out the white plastic.

  He took the tape from me. “Tough luck on that. You can never get those kinds of snags out.”

  “Yes, you can. It has to be possible.” I was determined. There was no way I was giving up on listening to that tape at least once.

  “Awesome Twosome?” He read the label.

  “Don’t ask.”

  “Ok, I won’t, but is there a reason you brought it here?”

  “I was hoping someone who works here could help.”

  He handed the tape back to me. “We can’t.”

  I put a hand on my hip. “I get that the store is closed. I can come back in the morning.”

  “Yes, it’s closed, but it’s more than that. No one can fix that thing.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  A wry smile twisted on his face. “You are something else.”

  “I’ve been told that before, but that doesn’t help me with my tape problem.”

  “What would make you think we could fix it? We’re not a repair shop.”

  “But you know about tapes. Surely you can help.”

  He took the haphazardly wound tape from my hand again. “It’s all tangled.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And you tried to play it?”

  “Of course.”

  He held open the door to the store. “Let’s at least try it on another tape player.”

  “Thanks. Good point. Maybe the tape player you sold me was faulty merchandise.”

  “It’s not faulty, but it’s cheap. Let’s try it on something higher quality.”

  He walked back into the store and immediately went back behind the desk.

  “Can I go back there?”

  He smiled. “You don’t like to break rules.”

  “I do sometimes. Not always though.”

  “You can come back. No one’s going to care.”

  “Ok.” I followed him back into a crowded room. The counters were covered in CDs, records, and DVDs. The walls were surprisingly bare compared to the rest of the shop.

  Leo walked right over to an ancient looking tape player.

  “This one is better than the one I bought?”

  “Yes.” He inserted the tape and hit play. The tape made a squeaking noise, and then the stop button popped up.

  “That’s exactly what happened at home.”

  He removed the tape. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”

  “Do you know of a repair shop I could try?”

  “A repair shop that works on cassette tapes?”

  “Yes. There’s got to be one somewhere.”

  He seemed to be debating something. “I may know someone.”

  “Great.” I pulled out my phone and opened the note app. “If I can just get their contact information I’ll be on my way.”

  “Whoa.” He held up a hand. “Slow down. I’m not giving you his information.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he’s a personal friend.”

  “And?”

  “And you’re unbalanced.”

  “Unbalanced?” I leaned in. “You don’t want to see unbalanced.”

  “Yeah, that’s my point.”

  I took another approach. “Listen. I’m not actually that weird. I’m just having a difficult time, and listening to this tape would help.”

  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll hold on to the tape and see what I can do.”

  “No way.” I shook my head. “Absolutely, positively no.”

  “I’m not going to lose it.”

  “How would I know? I don’t even know you.”

  “Yet you’re willing to take my word on knowing someone who could help. What if my friend just threw it away?”

  I huffed. “He wouldn’t do that.”

  “Once again how would you know?”

  “Listen, I really, really need this fixed.”

  “Really?” He asked with mock surprise. “I had no clue.”

  “Is there any way you could help? I’d appreciate it. I can pay you.” I pulled out my wallet.

  “Pay me?” He raised an eyebrow. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised since you bought the overpriced tape player.”

  “I’m desperate.”

  “If you start trying to ply me with sex I’m out of here.”

  “You didn’t just say that.”

  He held his hands up in front of him in defense. “When you start offering me money and talking about desperation…”

  “Fine. I’ll come back when someone else is working.” I grabbed the tape and turned away.

  “Wait.” He sighed loudly.

  I stopped.

  “You got your hair cut.”

  “What?” I turned back.

  “Your hair. It looks different.”

  “Different good or different bad?”

  “Do you actually care what I think?”

  “No. I’m just curious.”

  “Different good.”

  “Ok.” I nodded. “You’re not a total jerk.” And he had a killer smile, a smile that affected me physically. Paired with his deep green eyes, it made him impossible to ignore.

  “Not completely. I admit the sex comment was a little much.”

  “Do you really know someone who can help?”

  “Possibly. I’m going home, but if you leave me with your number I can call him and see if he’s willing to take a look at it.”

  “Sure. Want me to write it down or put it in your phone?”

  “I’ve never had such an easy time getting a girl’s number before.”

  I ignored his joke. “Which one is it?”

  He pulled out his phone. “This way I won’t lose it.”

  “The truth comes out.” I quickly typed in my name and number. “How long do you think it’s going to be?”

  “I’ll call him tonight or tomorrow, and then I’ll call you.”

  “I don’t care how late you call.”

  He smiled. “Man, you like to sound easy.”

  “Will you stop with the sexual innuendos already? If I was looking for that, I wouldn’t be at a used record store.”

  “Is that your way of telling me I’m unattractive?”

  I accepted the challenge of his words and looked him straight in the eye. “It’s my way of telling you I’m worried about that tape.”

  “Interesting diversion tactic.”

  “I will be back if I don’t hear from you.”

  “You promise?”

  I rolled my eyes and turned away.

  “Have a lovely evening, Cassidy.”

  “You too.” I walked back out to my car with the tape in my hand. I wasn’t sure if I should feel frustrated or appreciative. I guess that would depend on whether he came through.

  As I pulled out of the parking lot I couldn’t help but reflect on our conversation. Ply him with sex? Some girls would have slapped him for that. But I didn’t. What did that say about me?

  Probably nothing.

  * * *

  “That was quick,” Mom called from the kitchen.

  “Yeah, they were closed.”

  “That’s too bad. You going back tomorrow?”

  I washed my hands in the sink. “I talked to someone who worked there, and he’s going to call if he finds someone who can help.”

  “I thought they were closed.”

  “They were, but he remembered me.”

  “He?” Mom smiled as she cut up a tomato.

  “Yes, he. Why would that matter?”

  “I was just saying.”

  “Just saying what?” I couldn’t stand it when she insinuated things and then dropped it like she’d never said anything.

  “Maybe he was the reason you went back.”

  “Mom!”

  She startled and set aside the knife. “Please, can the theatrics wait until I’m done chopping tomatoes?”


  “How could you imply that? Of course he’s not why I went back.”

  “All this work over some old tape?”

  “Yes. It’s important to me.” I washed my hands in the sink and dried them on a dish towel.

  “Want to help?”

  “What can I do?”

  “Wash the lettuce.”

  “Sure.” I pulled the lettuce out of the fridge.

  “You look good.”

  “Yeah, the haircut.”

  “No, I mean you. I wouldn’t know you’d just broken off your engagement.”

  “It isn’t as bad as it sounds.”

  “Or it hasn’t hit you yet.”

  “It’s hit me.” It hit me before I did it. It’s why I finally left. I was about to marry someone who didn’t even want me. I deserved better than that, and so did he. He deserved to spend his life with the one he really wanted. Too bad it took us so long to figure that out.

  “Your father is working late tonight.”

  “No surprise.” He’d worked late most nights.

  “He works hard.”

  “I know. I was merely commenting that I wasn’t surprised.”

  “But he wanted to be home for dinner.”

  “Is it just us?” I hoped mom wasn’t going through all the trouble with dinner for me.

  “Yes. I was hoping Nile would join us, but he has a date.”

  “A date?”

  “You two haven’t talked much lately.” It wasn’t a question.

  “No, we haven’t.”

  “He’s your only brother.”

  “And phones and trains work both ways.”

  “He doesn’t like bothering you. You work a lot.”

  “I’m not working now.” Nor did I have any plans to in the near future.

  “Which is why I was hoping he’d join us tonight. I’m sure he’ll come by to see you tomorrow.”

  “I’m sure.” I finished helping with the salad. “Are you actually hungry?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Then why not save the time and energy? We can have salad and wine. Does that work for you?”

  “Sure. I hadn’t started on the chicken yet.”

  “Great. Seems like a waste to make a whole meal for just us.”

  “I cook for two all the time.”

  “But I’m not going to eat much.”

  “Are you trying to worry me?”

  “No. I’ll play my cards. All I really want is dessert.”

  She smiled. “Why didn’t you say that from the beginning?” She opened the freezer and pulled out my favorite Carvel brown bonnets. She handed me one and kept the other for herself.