Fallen Elements

by Heather McVea

  “I’m hungry. Do you want to order a pizza?” Ryan rolled over, and curled up next to a naked Jenny. The soft Egyptian cotton of the sheets and comforter felt indulgent against Ryan’s skin. The two women had spent the better part of the afternoon in Jenny’s bed, and Ryan was content to stay in for the evening.

  Jenny grinned. “Sounds perfect.” The woman stretched her arms over her head, and then shifted so she was facing Ryan. “I have to do some work though.” She laid her hand on the side of Ryan’s face.

  Ryan yawned and turned her lips to Jenny’s palm. “If you must.”

  Jenny had accepted a position in the administration of the recently elected Republican Lieutenant Governor Floyd Waterford. One of only two Republican tickets elected to the Governor’s office in Maryland since 1964, Waterford and Governor Harry Logan had taken over fifty percent of the vote on a platform of job creation, tax cuts, and positioning Maryland to be more appealing to businesses.

  Ryan didn’t consider herself particularly political. She had voted in every election since she was eighteen, but unlike Jenny, the idea of making a career out of politics - even given her interest in policy - had never attracted Ryan.

  “I have eight vendor proposals to read through before tomorrow.” Jenny sat up, putting her legs over the side of the bed.

  “Or we could binge on Netflix and pizza for the rest of the day?” Ryan wrapped her arm around Jenny’s bare waist and tried to pull the woman back down, but was met with resistance as Jenny twisted and stood.

  Running her fingers through her brown hair, Jenny reached for a black tieback that lay on the nightstand. “I would love that, but sadly -” She turned to face Ryan, who still lay in the bed. “Tragically - I can’t.”

  Ryan feigned a pout. “You’ve chosen work over me.”

  Jenny’s manicured brow arched. “I know you’re joking; otherwise, I’d punch you in the face.” She knelt next to the bed, resting her chin on the mattress. “But not before reminding you how much this job means to me, and how it’s a solid step through the front door of the RNC in Maryland.”

  Ryan grabbed Jenny’s pillow, the scent of citrus and lavender filling her senses as she covered her face with the soft fabric. “I know. I get it.”

  Ryan felt a weight bearing down on her hips, and tossing the pillow to the side, grinned as a naked and very sexy Jenny straddled her. “What do you get?” Jenny’s eyes narrowed as she looked intently at Ryan.

  Ryan clenched her lower lip between her teeth, trying desperately not to grope Jenny like a prepubescent boy. “I understand that someday you’ll rule the world, but first you’re deciding which vendors get contracts to refurbish state owned buildings.”

  Jenny cocked her head to the side, her pink lips turned slightly upward. “Damn straight.” She playfully pinched Ryan’s bare stomach and sprung from the bed. “Now order the pizza. I’m starved.” With that, she disappeared into the bathroom.

  Ryan lay back on the bed, her eyes wandering around the bedroom and its contemporary furnishings. Jenny’s entire row house resembled a page from the IKEA catalogue, and though it suited Jenny, the vibrant colors contrasted by stark whites and grays didn’t appeal to Ryan. She had, presumably because of the house she grew up in, always preferred dark woods and warm colors.

  Ryan reached for her phone she had discarded on the nightstand several hours prior. She had a text message from Nicole about catching a movie with her and Greg. She quickly sent her regrets, and continued to scroll.

  Leah’s name appeared on the small display, and Ryan felt her stomach tighten with excitement. Sorry to bother, but I have two tickets to the Orioles’ game next Saturday. Interested?

  Ryan smiled at the formality of the text. She could barely be bothered to use whole words when she texted, much less correctly punctuated complete sentences.

  Hi. Sounds like fun. Text me the when and where. Ryan hit the send button, and lay with the phone resting on her stomach.

  “How long for the pizza?” Jenny came out of the bathroom in a cobalt blue silk bathrobe.

  “Shit.” Ryan grabbed her phone and quickly scrolled through her contact list.

  Jenny sat on the edge of the bed. “What have you been doing out here?”

  “Leah invited me to the O’s game next Saturday, and I was responding to her text.” Ryan was focusing on her phone, and highlighted the Home Slyce contact before hitting the call button. Her eyes down, she didn’t see the frown on Jenny’s face before the woman stood and left the bedroom.

  After ordering their customary large pepperoni and bell pepper pizza, Ryan pulled on her jeans and t-shirt. Wandering into the living room, Ryan smiled at one of the few features in the house she liked. A fireplace sat on the far wall of the room. Its hearth was a light granite and the mantel face was tarnished steel plates that ran from the floor to the ceiling.

  “The pizza should be here in about forty five minutes.” Ryan sat down on the brown leather sofa, and reached for the television remote.

  “Fine.” Jenny was sitting at the brushed steel dining room table. Her tone was curt, prompting Ryan to mute the television.

  “Everything okay?” Ryan leaned forward.

  Jenny shrugged. “Your birthday is next Saturday. I had thought we would spend the day together.”

  Ryan grimaced. She hadn’t forgotten her twenty seventh birthday was rapidly approaching, but she had forgotten it was the Saturday of the game. “I totally forgot.”

  Jenny huffed, but still hadn’t looked up at Ryan. “How can you forget your own birthday?”

  Ryan laid the remote down on the sofa, and walked over to sit with Jenny at the dining room table. “I meant I forgot it was that Saturday.” Ryan thought the decent thing to do would be to text Leah and tell her she couldn’t make it after all, but spending the day with Leah trumped Ryan’s urge to appease Jenny.

  “I’m sure Nicole has something planned.” Jenny stated, her eyes focused on her work.

  Seeing an opportunity to lighten the mood, Ryan smiled. “Is that it? Nic has a party planned and you were supposed to get me there?”

  Jenny looked up. “Seriously? That would have involved your roommate and me saying more than three words to each other.”

  Ryan leaned back in the chair, the narrow slats digging into her shoulder blades. “I guess you wouldn’t tell me anyway.”

  “Nothing to tell.” Jenny thumbed through a stack of papers, marking every other page with a red ballpoint pen.

  “Why are you mad?” Ryan opted for the direct route. She and Jenny had always been good at being honest with each other. They had decided it was the only way their open relationship would ever work.

  “I just didn’t realize you and Leah were friendly enough to spend your birthday together.” Jenny slid several papers between the ends of her black Swingline stapler, and forcibly slammed her palm down, securing the staple.

  Ryan looked cautiously at Jenny, the woman’s irritation obvious. “Like I said, I forgot Saturday was my birthday.”

  “And you know her how again?” Jenny dropped the ballpoint pen on the table.

  “She knew my family.” Ryan was hesitant to share anymore. She didn’t fully understand Leah’s history with the Myers, and she didn’t want to get into a game of twenty questions with Jenny.

  Nodding, Jenny picked her pen back up and tucked it into the corner of her mouth. “So she was friends with your mother?”

  Ryan nodded, not sure where the conversation was going.

  “She’s got to be what - forty five - forty six?” Jenny looked at Ryan expectantly.

  “Something like that. You know it’s considered rude to ask a woman her age.” Ryan grinned, wanting desperately to end the exchange.

  Jenny pursed her lips. “Right.” She turned her attention back to her work. “Be careful, Ryan. You may have a cougar on your hands.”

  Ryan didn’t like feeling as if Jenny were attempting to goad her into an argument, and she certainly wasn’t interested in hav
ing one about Leah. “The game isn’t until the afternoon. Let’s do breakfast or brunch.”

  The corner of Jenny’s mouth turned up. “I’ll check my calendar.”

  Chapter 8

  “You’re home sooner than I expected.” Nicole was sitting at the dining room table, the glow of her laptop screen the only light in the dimly lit space.

  “Yeah, I’m tired, and thought I’d make an early night of it.” Ryan hung her leather bag from one of the hooks near the door.

  “Jenny called.” Nicole didn’t look up from the laptop, but the amused smirk on her face told Ryan she suspected all was not well.

  “And you actually answered?” Ryan attempted to distract her roommate.

  “I evidently have a masochistic streak.” Nicole closed the laptop and turned her attention to Ryan. “She sounded tense. I mean more so than the usual stick up her ass warrants.”

  Ryan walked into the kitchen and got a bottled water from the refrigerator. “I take it back, Jenny and you are getting married, not you and Greg.”

  Nicole was standing in the entrance to the kitchen. “I’m not telling you I would never vacation on your side of the street, but not with that one.”

  “What did she say, Nic?” Ryan took a drink of her water as she leaned against the counter.

  “She said to tell you she is available for breakfast Saturday, and to give her a call.” Nicole took the bottled water from Ryan, taking a long drink.

  “Cool.” Ryan didn’t want to get into the details with Nicole, and she wasn’t sure she was going to take Jenny up on her delayed acceptance of what had actually been Ryan’s invitation.

  Nicole nodded, a suspicious expression on her face. “So what are you doing for your birthday? I thought Greg, you, and I could pop out for dinner and drinks in Fells Point.”

  Ryan walked past Nicole, reclaiming her water before she left the kitchen. “Leah’s asked me to an Orioles’ game and I figured I may as well go, but we can do a late dinner.”

  Nicole followed Ryan to the foot of the stairs. “Leah? That seems promising.”

  Ryan rested her hand on the banister. “What’s promising?”

  Nicole rolled her eyes. “Never mind, be that way. Clearly you’re in a mood.”

  Ryan blew Nicole an exaggerated kiss and bounded up the stairs to her bedroom. Kicking off her shoes, Ryan laid down on her bed. She didn’t want to spend the next hour thinking about Leah, so she reached for the leather bound diary laying on her nightstand.

  ***

  10 March 1628

  The fear that had all but left me, thanks to Margery’s constant reassurances that my child was well, has once again settled heavily upon my shoulders and wears at my heart.

  These past three days there has been a perpetual sourness in my stomach that, in spite of her best efforts, Margery and her medicines have not been able to abate. I know something is wrong even though Margery assures me it is not uncommon to experience these sorts of ailments throughout a pregnancy.

  The treatments seem to make it worse, and my stomach has begun to sour in anticipation when Margery arrives. She feels terrible for me, and stays as long as she can in an effort to reassure me. I am sad for her as her mother has taken ill, and I do not wish to keep her any longer than is necessary.

  Just this morning I encouraged Margery to leave, and spend the morning with Goody Sebille. Margery’s face grew pale, and I could see there was something more to her story. After several minutes she finally confided in me that she fears the town will not honor the original conditions of her family’s contract, and she and her younger sister Abigail may be homeless should her mother pass.

  The very thought of Margery being turned out angered me, and I assured her I would speak to Isaac. I cannot imagine this is what the court intends as the Sebille family was among the earliest settlers of our grand colony. Their passage secured by the very contract Margery now fears will be voided upon her mother’s death.

  ***

  12 March 1628

  I am feeling better today, and managed to get enough time with Isaac to discuss Margery’s situation. I was surprised that my husband was aware of the contract dispute, and had not thought to tell me. Though, if I am honest with myself, since Isaac took his position in the Governor’s office, he has been more occupied with his responsibilities to the community at large, than to our family.

  I do not resent this absence as I know he is a very important man, but I do wish the carefree days of our past were once again upon us. Isaac takes his obligations very seriously. The irony being his commitment to the colony, and being a positive public servant, are but a few of many things I love and admire about him.

  Never one to disappoint, Isaac did agree to discuss the Sebilles’ situation with the court, and provide character testimony as to how very valuable the services the family provides the community are.

  ***

  14 March 1628

  Margery arrived today with her younger sister Abigail. I am sorry to say that having felt better for the past two days, the sourness in my stomach returned shortly after the two women arrived. I should consider it good timing as both Margery and Abigail are fine midwives, and immediately took to the kitchen and prepared a tea for me made from foraged berries and herbs.

  “How do you keep them fresh throughout the winter?” I asked the sisters as I drank eagerly of the sweet tea.

  Abigail, who I understand is considered rather beautiful, having already turned down two marriage proposals at barely the age of sixteen, explained that the family keeps a small cellar, and the roots are preserved in the dryness of the space. I inhaled the aroma of the tea deeply, and the warmth of the liquid did seem to settle my stomach.

  I told Margery that I had spoken with Isaac regarding the matter of their housing contract. This brought dire news as Margery and Abigail both began to weep. It seems Goody Sebille had taken a turn for the worse the night before, and neither daughter held out hope the woman would survive the week.

  I thought myself terrible for not immediately asking after the woman, and insisted the sisters leave to spend time with their mother. Truly dedicated, neither would go until they had attended to my stomach ailment, and ensured I was comfortably in bed.

  It was shortly after finishing the tea that the sourness in my stomach was replaced by a series of cramps that brought me to my knees. Abigail and Margery quickly assisted in getting me to bed, and I feared the worst.

  “Am I losing the baby?!” I cried out as Margery laid a blanket over me while Abigail arranged my pillows so that my head was slightly elevated.

  “Shh, your child is fine.” Abigail took a small damp cloth from her sister, and gently stroked my forehead, beads of sweat gathering as the pain from the cramping rushed through me.

  As soon as the cloth touched my skin, a coolness spread outward from it. The flush of my cheeks and the heat that coursed through my body was lessened, and I felt as if I could breathe again. I do not know what she did as the coolness of the cloth seemed disproportional to me.

  I admit though to being frightened, but at the same time elated that my skin no longer burned and the cramping in my stomach had diminished.

  “Do you want Abigail to stay with you?” Margery had asked, the concern and compassion evident in her voice.

  Needing nothing more than rest at that point, I thanked the two women, and insisted they leave and tend to their mother. Margery hesitated, and it was Abigail that finally spoke up and said she would return to check on me later that afternoon as Margery made her calls to three other pregnant women in the town.

  With that reassurance, and after pouring me another cup of tea, the two sisters left. I drank the tea, and within a few minutes it squelched the sourness in my stomach, and I was able to sleep.

  ***

  16 March 1628

  The situation with Goody Sebille has become dire. According to Isaac, prior to taking ill she had drafted a letter to the court in which she called portions of her family’
s contract due immediately. Now, I do not understand the intricacies of business matters, but Isaac assures me this is very unusual, and the primary reason the court was attempting to terminate the family’s contract.

  I could not imagine Margery was aware of this circumstance as she would no doubt think it unfair of her mother to put undue burden on the town. Nonetheless, Isaac promises me mother and daughters signed the letter to the court, and he has no interest in intervening.

  When pressed about what conditions the family had sought to have paid in full, Isaac became uncharacteristically agitated, and swiftly told me it was none of my never mind. So shocked by his assertion, I was rendered speechless, and before I could find my voice again, my husband had retired to his study for the evening.

  ***

  Pickles Pub was located less than fifty yards from the entrance to Camden Yards. The pub was a popular place for locals to gather to watch their favorite sports teams, or for fans of the Orioles to meet up before a game.

  “It’s called an Orange Crush.” Ryan raised her voice over the noise of the crowded bar. “You get it, orange crush - Orioles?”

  Leah laughed. “I get it.” She took a drink of the vodka laden beverage. The tartness of the orange Crush soda and lime were cut by the triple sec. “It’s good.”

  Ryan was admiring Leah’s gray vintage t-shirt that had the Orioles’ bird logo stamped across the front. “I like your shirt.”

  Leah smiled and looked down. “Thanks! Yours is cool, too.” Ryan was wearing an orange, V-neck t-shirt with block letters that read Keep Calm We Got Adam Jones.

  “I appreciate you indulging me. Pickles is a tradition.” Ryan took a long drink of her Orange Crush, and scanned the congested space for their waitress. “Do you want to get some fried pickles?”

  Leah nodded, an amused expression on her face. “How could we not?”

  Ryan nodded. “That’s the right attitude.” Spotting their waitress, Ryan raised her hand. “Can we get an order of fried pickles, please?”