Fallen Elements

by Heather McVea

  Ryan smiled. Greg and Nicole had become engaged three months prior, and in spite of Ryan’s initial apprehension about being in the wedding party, Nicole had won her over by promising Ryan could have her pick of dresses.

  “You’re not sending me anything with ruffles right? I don’t do ruffles.” Ryan joked.

  Nicole laughed. “Jesus, do you think I got engaged and went stupid? I don’t do ruffles. That’s Greg’s thing.” Ryan heard noise in the background, and Nicole yelping. “I was kidding! Get off me!”

  Though Ryan had been surprised to find out her two friends were dating, and had nearly fallen over when they told her they were getting married, she couldn’t remember seeing either of them happier than they were together.

  The three friends had agreed that Ryan would move out of the row house. She wanted to stay in the Canton neighborhood and had been looking for a house to buy for close to a month. To Nicole and Greg’s delight, Mrs. Grady had offered to sell them the row house Nicole and Ryan currently shared, and for a small percentage under the appraised value.

  Much to Ryan’s surprise, Nicole hadn’t told Greg about Ryan’s inheritance. It wasn’t until they were discussing the housing situation that it even came up. Greg had been, like Nicole, unfazed by the news. Ryan had been so encouraged by his reaction, she had asked Greg if he could recommend someone in his firm to help her with the liquidation of several of the properties.

  “Several?” Greg had asked one afternoon as they all sat around watching TruTV’s World’s Dumbest Inventions 13.

  “Five.” Ryan had taken a drink of her Natty Boh. “I want to use the proceeds to start and fund a series of halfway houses along the East coast. Specifically for families. A lot of times when one parent loses their job, the family is separated because of gender restrictions in shelters.”

  Ryan had thought of how Leah’s family had struggled, and she shuddered to think of how many more families had met the Brewers’ fate because of her family. The network of houses seemed like a start to offsetting the centuries of damage.

  “I can arrange for you to meet with Ben Kelly. He’s an estate attorney, and a nice guy.” Greg had arranged the meeting the next week. Over the next seven months each of Ryan’s houses had been sold, and trusts established that supported ten shelter houses from New York City down to St. Augustine, Florida.

  Ryan had been thankful for the intricacy involved in setting the trusts up, and determining managers for each. The selection of the cities that would house each shelter had been a process of identifying where the need was the greatest, and either building or buying houses in each market. All of this, though terribly important, was also a welcome distraction from the hurt and grief she continued to struggle with.

  After Leah disappeared, Ryan had tumbled into the worst sadness she could have imagined. She had hardly ate or slept for weeks. She had managed to maintain her work and little else, though there were days she had wanted nothing more than to stay in bed and sob uncontrollably.

  Nicole and Greg, through kindness and eventually tough love, pulled her up and out of her funk. She had not been a gracious patient, and looking back, wondered why they had tolerated her sullen, hostile attitude.

  Eventually though, Ryan found her way back to something akin to her old self. She had been so miserable and racked with sorrow, but in the end, life had pushed its way back into her heart. She had even worked up the interest and courage to start dating again, and though she held no illusions to finding someone as remarkable as Leah, Ryan took credit for at least getting back out into the world.

  Ryan had come to accept that she was now two women. One was excited and involved in the world around her. Someone who was helping her best friends plan their wedding, and someone who was making her way through the pitfalls of professional life to make a difference in the world around her.

  Then there was the other woman. One desperate and confused by the loss of a love – the love. Ryan was less fond of this person, and spent a tremendous amount of energy concealing her from the world. This other woman did take comfort in the hope that someday she might step to the other side of her despair.

  Ryan hung up from Nicole and slid her phone back into her pocket. Turning back toward the bar, her attention was drawn to a familiar face in the crowd. Leah’s friend Pam, talking on her phone, passed directly in front of Ryan.

  When Marty had refused to tell Ryan where Leah was, Ryan had found Pam on the internet. She had hoped the woman would give her some clue where Leah might be, or at least tell her if she was okay. Ultimately, calls and emails were left unanswered, and Ryan realized Pam’s loyalties, rightfully so, laid with Leah.

  Glancing through the plate glass windows of the bar, Ryan could see Donnie sitting at their table typing on his phone, and sipping his Dewar’s and water. Not wanting to lose Pam in the crowd, Ryan pulled her phone out as she followed behind her.

  I need to head back to the hotel. Nothing too serious, but I need my laptop to send a few emails. See you at breakfast in the morning. Night. Ryan quickly texted Donnie, and then fell into step several yards behind Pam.

  As best Ryan could tell, the woman hadn’t seen her. She seemed thoroughly engrossed in her conversation and unaware, even now, that Ryan was following her. Pam walked south on Friend Street, crossing over New Chardon Street. Looking ahead, Ryan could see the woman was walking toward the T station at Haymarket.

  Am I going to be the person that follows a practical stranger home, and then accost her in her doorway demanding she tell me where a woman I haven’t seen in over a year is? Ryan paused at the station’s entrance as Pam disappeared down the stairway.

  You bet your ass I am. Resolved to see her interaction with Pam through, Ryan trotted down the steps. Grateful Donnie had talked her into buying a three day T pass, Ryan swiped the thin paper card at the turnstile, and followed Pam onto the orange line train.

  Ryan sat near the opposite end of the train car. There were less than twenty people in the car. Ryan was anxious Pam would see her if she sat too close, or worse, Ryan might lose sight of Pam if she lagged too far behind.

  In the end, Ryan watched Pam closely from a safe distance, and with several other commuters in between them. Ryan’s concerns seemed moot as Pam had ended her earlier call and was now texting with little regard for her surroundings.

  After two stops, the train slowed, and an automated woman’s voice announced the train was arriving at the Sullivan Square stop. Pam glanced up at the scrolling display, and gathering her purse, exited the train. Ryan waited as long as she could before exiting, nervous the car doors would close and she would lose Pam.

  Ryan maintained a safe distance as Pam left the station. Ryan wasn’t familiar with this part of Boston. She pulled her phone out, and its GPS informed her she was in the Boston suburb of Somerville. Pam walked up Perkins Street for two blocks before turning right on Mt. Pleasant Street.

  The street was lined with row houses, some having been converted into multiple unit apartments while others remained single family homes. Ryan would classify the neighborhood as older, but well maintained. It reminded her of her neighborhood in Canton.

  Pam walked up the stairs to a modest, gray house with slat siding, and a chain link fence in front of it. Ryan stood across the street and down several houses, her heart was pounding, and she was trying to think through what she wanted to say to Pam to convince her to tell her where Leah was.

  After nearly ten minutes, and deciding she had nothing to lose if Pam told her to piss off, Ryan walked across the street. Her legs felt heavy as she walked up the stairs. Pausing, she took a deep breath before pressing the pewter button for the door chime.

  A series of bells rang inside the house, followed by a click and then the door opened. Ryan’s breath caught. She had expected Pam to answer, but instead, Leah was standing in front of her, wearing a pair of dark jeans and a snug fitting black V-neck t-shirt.

  Both women looked at each other, neither able to speak. “Leah, wh
o is it?” Pam’s voice came from somewhere inside the house.

  Leah, visibly shaken, swallowed before speaking. “It’s Ryan.”

  A moment later, Pam was standing behind Leah. “Ryan. Hi.” Pam looked at Ryan, a faint smile on her lips as she turned to Leah. “Shouldn’t you invite her in?”

  Ryan’s brain was beginning to catch up with the rest of the world, and she managed to speak. “I saw you –” She looked at Pam. “I saw you down on Friend Street.”

  Pam frowned. “You followed me all the way here?”

  It wasn’t lost on Ryan that Leah had still not spoken to her. “Yeah. Sorry.” Ryan didn’t know what else to say.

  “Well, come in.” Pam pushed back a still clearly stunned Leah, and took Ryan’s hand. Ryan and Leah’s shoulders touched as Pam was ushering her through the door. The spark of heat that Ryan had spent so long trying to forget shot through her. She felt a tightness pushing at the back of her throat.

  “Shut the door, Leah.” Pam guided Ryan out of the entryway, and into a small sitting room to the left of the main hallway. The house was simple. It had oak hardwood floors, the walls were painted a pale blue and adorned with a myriad of framed artwork. The scent of musk and sandalwood wafted over Ryan as Pam offered her a seat.

  “Would you like a drink? Coffee, tea – bourbon?” Pam grinned as she emphasized the latter choice.

  Though Ryan was tempted by the calming effect the bourbon would no doubt have on her frazzled nerves, she thought it best to keep her wits about her. “Water would be fine.”

  As Pam exited the room, Leah stepped into the doorway. She was as beautiful as Ryan remembered. “You cut your hair.”

  Leah ran her fingers through her short blonde tresses. “Oh, yeah. About four months ago.”

  Ryan nodded. “I like it.”

  Leah chewed nervously on her lower lip. “Thanks. You – you look good.”

  “Thanks.”

  Pam came back in with two glasses of water. She handed one to Ryan, and sat the other one down on the small round end table next to Ryan. “If you two need anything, let me know.”

  Leah narrowed her eyes at Pam, and the woman shrugged before leaving the room. Ryan heard footsteps, and assumed Pam had gone upstairs.

  “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.” Ryan took a tentative sip of her water, wishing Leah would actually step into the room instead of just lingering in the doorway.

  “I’ve been staying here for about six months.” Her tone was efficient with no emotional undertones. Ryan was reminded of their exchange in Leah’s house before they made love for the first time. The memory of being with Leah sent a bolt of heat to Ryan’s stomach.

  “Where had you been bef –”

  “Look, Ryan.” Leah interrupted. “I don’t want to go through all this again with you. I’ve made my peace with what I did, and with us. I wish you could be mature enough to do the same.”

  Leah’s words hit Ryan like a slap in the face, and she had to push past her anger and hurt before she could speak. “I don’t believe you.”

  Leah exhaled loudly, and finally stepped into the room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “I don’t know how many ways we can have this conversation before you start listening to me?”

  Ryan stood up. “At least once, since we never really discussed it. You left me a crappy note that had all the warmth of an IRS audit notice, and disappeared.”

  Leah’s eyes narrowed. “I knew from the conversation the night before you didn’t understand what I was dealing with, and never would.”

  Ryan sat back down, and crossed her legs. “I didn’t realize among your many powers you could also read minds.” The sarcasm flowed freely, driven by a year’s worth of hurt and anger. “And I almost forgot – telling the future, if you just knew I could never understand.”

  Leah hesitated, clearly choosing her words carefully. “I – I deserve that, but it doesn’t change anything. And you’re still not listening to me.”

  Ryan stood up. “I’ll start listening to you when you tell me the truth, and stop lying about how you feel and what you want.” Her tone was tight, but Ryan managed not to raise her voice.

  The muscle in Leah’s jaw jumped. “I’ll admit that when I left my house that morning I was a wreck. I could barely look at myself in the mirror, and I was already miserable without you.” Leah took a breath. “But it got better, Ryan. I got better.”

  Ryan fought back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her, desperately needing Leah not to mean what Ryan thought she was hearing. “Then – you, don’t –”

  “I’m not in love with you anymore.” Leah said flatly. “I haven’t been for a while.”

  Ryan felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. She sat down in the chair, the room spinning. The tears that had been threatening to break free finally did, and Ryan struggled to breathe as the hopes she had clung to for the past year shattered.

  Leah’s expression was calm. She didn’t make a move to comfort Ryan as the younger woman sat crying. “Take as long as you need.” Leah turned and left the room abruptly.

  Ryan clutched at her stomach, nausea causing her to double over in pain. A warm hand was on her back, and Ryan looked up, hopeful it was Leah.

  “She’s lying to you.” Pam’s voice was low and intimate as she sat down next to Ryan. “She’s been a wreck since she got here. I can only imagine it was worse before.”

  Ryan wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. “She said –”

  Pam rolled her eyes and sighed. “Look, I understood where she was coming from, but now – after watching her be so miserable without you – I think she’s just wrong.”

  “But why would she say those horrible things to me?” Ryan cringed.

  “She can be a shit when she gets things stuck in her head.” Pam offered. “She lost so much when she was younger, and so cruelly. She’s scared, and convinced that what happened with your aunt, uncle and cousin will always be between you two. I’ve known her a long time, and –” Pam looked pensively at the ceiling.

  “She had made so many promises to herself about how she would, and would not use her power, to have to use it to end someone’s life is nearly more than she can bear.”

  Ryan reached for the glass of water, and took a long drink. “Where’s her room?”

  Pam smiled, and patted Ryan on the back. “Good form. Up the stairs, first door to the right.”

  Ryan got up, still feeling shaky from the emotional onslaught she had just weathered. “Thank you.”

  Pam nodded. “Good luck.”

  Ryan didn’t think luck would have anything to do with it. Emboldened with the knowledge that Leah still loved her, or at least didn’t actively hate her, Ryan would not let Leah side step the conversation that was a year in the making.

  Ryan climbed the stairs. It was only after a car alarm began sounding in the distance that she realized she had been standing with her hand resting on the door handle of Leah’s bedroom for nearly a full minute. Ryan’s mouth was dry. She squared her shoulders, determined that fear would not make the decision whether she opened the door or not. Hope was opening the door.

  The room would be considered small, if not for a small recessed nook lined with three bay windows. The oak wood floor accenting the light sage paint on the walls opened the space up, and a full size bed sat flush with the wall farthest from the door. Ryan was immediately aware of Leah’s familiar vanilla scent as it permeated the space, and she fought the urge not to take a deep breath.

  Leah was sitting in a high back, overstuffed leather chair in the nook. Her feet were resting on a broad leather foot stool. Even in the dim lighting of the room, Ryan could see Leah had been crying.

  Screw your courage to the sticking place, and we’ll not fail. The quote from Shakespeare’s Macbeth, which Ryan had read her freshman year in college, skidded across her mind. Ryan slowly sat down on the foot stool, careful not to touch Leah’s feet.

  “I want you to leave.” L
eah sniffled, her eyes red and swollen.

  “I know you do. I know how hard this is, but the last year has been harder. The years stretching out in front of us without each other – those will be harder still.” Ryan swallowed, the sour feeling in her stomach threatening to overwhelm her.

  “I can’t get past you. I try, but no matter what I do – throw myself into work, philanthropy, going out with friends – hell, I’ve even tried dating – you’re always right there.”

  Ryan saw the arch in Leah’s brow when she said she had tried dating, and in that second knew for certain Leah still cared for her. Bolstered by that fact, Ryan placed her hand on Leah’s ankle. She couldn’t help but gently squeeze the soft skin. The heat from touching Leah, and the euphoria of being near her again, caused Ryan’s head to swirl.

  Leah’s shoulders relaxed. Closing her eyes, she exhaled loudly as she rested her head on the back of the chair. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes, and looked directly at Ryan. “I can’t get past you either. When I left you, after our last night together, I hadn’t imagined the misery that awaited me.” Leah’s voice caught as she struggled to speak.

  “Then what are we doing this for?” Ryan gushed. “Don’t you see, the losses, the deaths are all for nothing if we end up apart anyway? If that happens, my family wins, and the stakes are too high for me to concede.”

  Leah sat up and wiped at her tear soaked cheeks. “What happened will always be between us. I can only imagine what Carol must be going through.” Leah looked down, her otherwise beautiful mouth twisted into a deep frown. “She must hate me after what happened, and she’d be right to want revenge.”

  Ryan shook her head. “If that’s the path she chooses, then so be it. It happens whether we’re together or not; so why not be together?” Ryan moved her hand from Leah’s ankle to her knee. “I told you once, you’re someone I can’t just forget. I’m going to love you even if I never see you again. Time, distance – it doesn’t stop me loving you.”

  Ryan closed her eyes, trying to bring her frenzied thoughts into focus. “I grew up with Carol. She isn’t her mother.”