After We Fall

by Marquita Valentine

“Leslie’s the one who is expecting, right?” I ask, thinking of the tall blonde with a friendly smile I had met earlier.

  Saylor nods. “Yes. She goes on maternity in the next couple of weeks.”

  “Y’all provide that?”

  As she secures the lid on the container, she nods. “The advisory board likes to promote a family-friendly work environment.”

  “Does that mean you’ll have to go back to six and a half days a week instead of five?” I ask.

  “Nope. You’re here now.”

  I stare at her for a moment, a ball of dread forming in my stomach. “Am I replacing Leslie?”

  “Only while she’s gone.”

  “And when she comes back?”

  Saylor pushes her glasses up on her nose. “You’ll both be working here. I told you I finally got funds allocated for a new hire.”

  What she says doesn’t exactly ring true for me. “I don’t understand. You said that you needed another person so you wouldn’t be overextended, but with Leslie going on maternity leave, you’ll be back in the same boat.”

  Saylor blushes. “I might have stretched the truth a little.”

  “Oh really?” I cross my arms over my chest. “Maybe you should fess up.”

  Hesitating, Saylor pulls on a length of dark hair and begins to twist it nervously. “Promise you won’t be mad.”

  “I can’t promise that, but I can promise to listen.” What in the world has Saylor done?

  “Right before I met you, Hunter mentioned to me that you were new to the complex and might be looking for a job. So when we happened to meet—I swear that was purely coincidental—I mentioned the job to you and embellished things a little in the hope that you were in fact looking for something. I mean, when Hunter recommends someone, I know they are good people.” Letting go of her hair, she grabs my hand and I’m too stunned to react. “Please don’t quit. I can already tell everyone likes you.”

  Hunter set this all up? I swallow. On one hand, I hate that he went behind my back and said something to Saylor, but on the other hand, this job is exactly what I need. “Did you tell him that I started today?”

  She shakes her head vigorously. “No. He doesn’t even know I talked to you.”

  For some reason, that makes me feel better. It makes me feel like I don’t owe him anything in return. Kind of like our mutual car-washing session last night.

  Saylor lets go of my hand. “I’d like for you to stay. We really could use you, even if my work schedule is already out-of-the-world awesome. I mean, I work with animals all day long and get paid for it.”

  Pointing at herself, she adds, “Luckiest woman in the world.”

  The earnest pleading and genuine enthusiasm about her job are so apparent in her voice that I can’t say no. I don’t want to say no. “You can make it up to me by having lunch together today.”

  Her brown eyes widen, then crinkle a little at the corners. “Sweet. Our lunch breaks are at the same time anyway, so no conflicts.”

  “Great.” I smile, the ball of dread dissipating quickly. “What’s next?”

  Saylor grabs a pair of latex gloves, a small shovel, and a small bucket with a lid, then hands them over to me. “You get to clean up poo!”

  My smile falls. Seriously? “Now who’s the luckiest woman in the world?”

  “Not you, that’s for sure, because Mr. Rigglesworth had a major blowout right after yoga.” She claps me on the back. “Make sure you hose everything down when you’re done.”

  Watching Saylor practically skip away, I twist my lips. “Should have quit while I had the chance.”

  Two hours later, I’ve cleaned up more poop from one dog with irritable bowels than all the combined kennels. To be fair, Saylor runs a tight ship and the other employees actually keep everything as pristine as possible, but accidents happen.

  Lucius gives me a thumbs-up as I pass him. “Mr. Rigglesworth will get you every time, mon,” he says, his Jamaican accent filling my ears.

  “Is this a regular occurrence?” I ask, stopping in the hallway.

  “Yoga and Bob Marley.” Lucius shakes his head, his black dreads flying. When he smiles, I can count four lip piercings in his bottom lip. “Don’t worry, now that you’ve been fully initiated, I’ll take over Mr. Rigglesworth’s blowouts.”

  “Oh, thank God,” I say in a rush. “Wait…initiated?”

  “Hope you’re not too angry with us,” Leslie says as she joins us. “New girl or guy always has to deal with Mr. R.”

  Leslie and Lucius give me identical, sheepish smiles.

  Suddenly, an image of Hunter pops in my head, his smile lopsided as he talks about being the FNG. Oh. My. Gosh. I’m the FNG.

  “I’m the fucking new girl,” I practically shout, then slap my hand over my mouth. “Ack. Sorry.” But I’m really not because the thought of being the FNG makes me giddy. It makes me feel like I belong.

  Leslie claps her hands together and touches the tips of her fingers to her mouth. “Don’t apologize. We’ve all been there.”

  “It’s all good,” Lucius agrees. Another flash of white teeth against dark brown skin and he is walking away, humming as he goes.

  “Back to the office for me,” Leslie says before waddling away.

  I really like them.

  Saylor steps out into the hallway, her usual bright smile out in full force. “There you are! Ready for lunch?”

  The thought of food makes me slightly queasy, but my stomach rumbles before I can say anything.

  “That’s a yes.” Saylor threads one arm through mine. “Let’s go. I’ll drive. The fresh air will help you feel better.”

  “Noticed that, did you?”

  “The green color of your face kind of gave it away.”

  The sun shines bright, making me squint and cover my eyes. “I need to get my sunglasses and purse.”

  “Sure thing.” She lets go of me. “I’m the Jeep Wrangler.”

  Once I grab my purse and shove my sunglasses on, I get in the Jeep with Saylor. It’s bright red and has a stick shift. “You know how to drive stick?”

  “Every girl should.”

  “For sure, but most don’t. A lot of guys don’t even know how to drive stick,” I say as she puts the windows down. A warm breeze stirs through my hair as we leave the parking lot.

  “True. Gosh, the last guy who took me out drove a smart car. Do you know how hard it is to take a guy who drives a smart car seriously?” she asks. I can’t tell if she’s teasing or not. “His knees were practically in his chest. How smart is it to drive like that?”

  “At least you can keep close for warmth in the winter?”

  Saylor bursts out laughing as she shifts into third gear. “He tried that line on me.”

  “Didn’t work, huh?”

  “Ah, no. Plus, he hated my cat.”

  “Oooh.” I wince. “That’s a hard one to get past.”

  “To be fair, she did sink her claws into his testicles, so…”

  “Omigosh,” I say, laughing. “Do you normally have first-date disasters?”

  She nods. “Unfortunately, I rarely get an invitation to a second one, and never a third.”

  “Never?” I turn to stare at her in shock. “But you’re…so—”

  “Odd,” she says firmly.

  “Sweet and friendly,” I disagree.

  “Thanks, but I’m an oddball…who happens to be girly, too. I know just enough about Star Wars for a hardcore fan to think I’m a poseur. So those guys are out. And, I’m a pop-culture buff, especially the eighties and nineties decades, so hipster dudes think I’m all about consumerism.” Glancing at me, she smiles, but there’s an air of sadness behind it. “I’m okay with that because I’m comfortable with who I am as a person.”

  “There are other guys out there, you know. You just need to find the right one,” I say, as if I have any business offering dating or relationship advice.

  “If you meet him before I do, be sure to send him my way, but make sure he like
s animals first.”

  Our lunch date is quick, since we get only thirty minutes. Saylor keeps the conversation going by talking about some of her favorite TV shows. A plus for me since I have about eight shows to add to my watch list.

  The rest of the day flies by as I take turns at manning the front desk and bringing the cats out to play. Cats playing mostly consists of them running and flopping down in the middle of the room or climbing up towers of carpet. It’s oddly mesmerizing.

  “You’re done for the day,” Saylor says as I herd the last cat into its room.

  I check my watch. “But it’s only four.”

  “You came in at eight, which means four is quitting time.” Saylor grins at me. “You can always clean Mr. Rigglesworth’s kennel again, if you’re that keen on staying.”

  My eyes widen. “First, no. Second, he had another blowout?”

  A snort leaves Saylor as she shakes her head. “Just kidding.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Anytime. We love when the new guy cleans up poo.”

  “I bet you do,” I grumble.

  She bites her bottom lip. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

  “Yes.” I head for the door, waving as I go. “Bye.” As soon as I get in my car, I text Piper.

  Me: Can you meet in thirty minutes? I got off work earlier than I thought I would.

  Piper: Absolutely. Same place?

  Me: Yes.

  —

  Piper is waiting for me at a table for two by the time I arrive at the Tea Shop. The smell of cakes and cookies in the small café reminds me of home. My momma would love this place.

  “It’s so good to see you,” Piper says, rising to her feet to hug me. I try not to flinch, but my body tenses anyway. She lets go immediately and I feel like a loser for reacting that way. “Sit down and tell me about your new job.”

  Trust Piper to not mention my behavior. I think it’s why she’s so good with people. She doesn’t push and she can tell when something makes them uncomfortable.

  “It’s at Forrestville Animal Shelter—I started today.”

  “Wow. That’s great!” She expertly pours two cups of tea and hands one to me. “I’m not sure how you take it, so you’ll have to add whatever you’d like.”

  “Thanks.” Adding three cubes of sugar and then stirring, I stall for time, unsure if I should talk more about my job or get right to the point of why I asked her to meet with me.

  After a couple of minutes of silence, getting right to the point wins out. “I need someone to talk to.”

  Piper nods. “A professional, or would you like to talk with me?”

  I shrug. “I’m not sure.”

  “If you need more time to decide, that’s fine, but maybe, in the meantime, you can talk about what made you reach out to me?”

  My face heats and I feel like a loser again for not texting her sooner. Although she never made me feel like I had to talk to her, she did make it clear that she wanted to be my friend. “I…uh…There’s this guy and he’s interested in me, but I’m not. Except my”—I draw circles with my hands, trying to find the right words—“parts of me are interested.”

  “I see.”

  Glancing around the room, I make sure no one is near us before I continue. “I’m not normal. I’m not acting like someone who’s been…hurt. I…One minute I want to run away from him and the next…I’m drawn to him, but I can’t trust myself.”

  “Evangeline, there isn’t a right way to act. How you react to situations is the true or right way for you. Anyone who tells you any different not only is a liar but has no heart,” she says fiercely. “Just because they wouldn’t do what you do doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

  “I know, but…I’m out of sorts. Lately, and I mean like in the past two or three days, I’ve been laughing again. Smiling, making friends, I think. I’ve been hugged and touched, and, for the most part, I didn’t want to run away screaming.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Piper’s eyes light up. “It means you’re getting healthy and not letting the past control your life.”

  “The guy?” Piper nods. “He asked me to dinner, but I said no and that I wasn’t looking to get involved with anyone.”

  “Nothing wrong with establishing your boundaries.”

  Grabbing the napkin in front of me, I begin to knead it. “Except I wanted to say yes.”

  “Nothing wrong with that, either.”

  Frustrated, I blow out a breath. “You’re not helping.”

  “You asked me to listen, not tell you what to do,” she points out, calm as ever.

  “What would you do?”

  She smiles. “If you want to be around this guy, then do it in a place that’s very public and casual. So casual that it’s almost a non-date, you know? No pressure, no expectations.”

  “But what if I’m wrong about him?” My lower lip trembles and it feels as though the room is closing in on me. “What if the next guy I pick is worse than Penn?”

  Piper’s forehead wrinkles, then smooths out as she tentatively touches my hand. Her skin is so hot…or maybe it’s that mine is so cold. “What if he’s not?” she asks gently. “What if he’s a man who is deserving of your time and attention?”

  “That’s a lot of what-ifs.” I take a sip of my tea while trying not to cry.

  “I wish I could say for sure what kind of man this guy is and ease your mind.”

  “You already know him,” I whisper, tears on the verge of falling.

  “Who?”

  “Hunter Sloan.”

  Her eyes close as she gives my hand a small squeeze. “Oh, honey, he’s a good man. Hunter helps people; it’s his job.”

  I laugh, but it’s bitter. “That was Penn’s job, too.”

  “I’m sorry, Evangeline.”

  “For what? You didn’t pick a loser like I did.” I sit back in my chair. “That was all me. After I fell for him, there was nothing wrong he could do in my eyes.”

  “That’s normal. That’s called falling in love.”

  “I’m not in love with Hunter.”

  “Who said you had to be?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know.”

  Piper brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know you don’t trust yourself right now, but the only way you’ll learn to trust yourself again is by attempting to do the things that terrify you.”

  “Like going out on a date?” I ask, my voice all watery.

  “Or even holding hands with a sympathetic friend.” She gazes at where our hands are still joined.

  Five months ago, I wouldn’t let anyone near me, much less comfort me by touching any part of my body. Yet, here I am…I want to have a life again. I want to be normal.

  Most of all, I don’t want Penn to win.

  Lifting my gaze to Piper’s, I say, “If I get another opportunity, I’ll consider something…casual.”

  Chapter 7

  Hunter

  My next on-duty shift keeps me busy for three days straight. I was so slammed with casework that I actually paid the college kid in apartment A to let Jake stay with him. No damn wonder I can’t have an actual pet, or a relationship, for that matter. With my work schedule, by the time I see Evangeline again, it’ll be the back of her head as she drives away.

  Or something equally as bad.

  “Ready to go?” I ask Jake, scratching his head. There is nothing I’d like to do more than crash, but I made Jake a promise to go see his honey at the dog park. While I can’t guarantee the little blond cocker spaniel will be there, I can, at least, deliver on my promise.

  Jake’s tail wags like crazy as we make our way to the dog park. Another thing I like about Rose Haven’s location, it’s close to everything. Things have really changed in this part of Forrestville, and for the better.

  Growing up, this section of Forrestville was considered the absolute wrong side of the tracks. A lot of the houses were abandoned; there was lots of crime and no jobs—hence, the lots of crime. People were afraid to let their kids pl
ay in the backyard, much less the front yard, but developers came in, worked with the locals, and have made amazing changes. I think the place looks like it did when it was first built out—all craftsman-style houses and neighborhood stores.

  It’s a great place to raise a family now.

  A kid darts out in front of me, catching a football and trampling flowers as he goes to avoid falling into the street. “Sorry, Dad. Sorry!”

  My gut clenches. Apologizing to my dad only got me a worse beating.

  His dad jogs to the edge of the yard and takes the football. “Not your fault. Threw it too hard.”

  The boy looks up at him and you can see that he’s relieved. “But Mom will be mad.”

  “Not if we make things right. Go get the garden supplies and we’ll see what we can come up with.”

  “She’s gonna love what we come up with,” the boy shouts, taking off.

  The dad looks at me and shrugs. “Kids, gotta love ’em.”

  I nod, but inside I’m overwhelmed at the memories their interaction evoked.

  My dad shoving me against the wall for wanting to sit with him while he watched the game. My dad smacking me for trying to get him to stop hitting my mom. My dad yelling at me for being a no-good piece of half-Mexican shit for singing with my mom while I helped her do laundry…before he turned on her, hitting her over and over with a wire hanger for encouraging me to do women’s work.

  My mother screams, her face pale and her eyes huge as she looks down. The blood. All the blood pouring from my father’s head. He was heavy, so heavy.

  Sweat pours off me, down my back and face. The trees seem ominous, dark, and their branches reach for me, oddly shaped like claws.

  “Fuck,” I breathe, wiping at my sweaty forehead. “Fuck.”

  Jake whimpers a little, jumping up to lay his paws against me, and I rub his head. He licks my hand. I take a deep breath, then another one and another, until the sounds of violence and the smell of blood fade away.

  Finally, Jake tugs on his leash and I start walking again.

  “Sorry, buddy.” Then I realize why the dad and son affected me so quickly and so deeply. Their house is built on the lot where mine used to stand. Usually, I don’t walk on this side of the street, but the shade was calling me.