The Upside of Falling Down

by Rebekah Crane

“How is she?”

  “Good. She’s sleeping,” I say. “Have you seen Kieran?”

  Clive points to the door. “He said he needed a walk.”

  I hug Clive before racing out the door. “Wish me luck!”

  The warm air and natural light hit me at once, and my eyes start watering. I shield the sun from my face, searching for Kieran, but he’s nowhere to be seen. A desperate fear of losing him creeps back, but my determination overrides it. If this could all be gone, if life can change in a heartbeat, I need Kieran now.

  Large emerald-green lawns surround the hospital. The ground beneath my feet is damp with rain. Clouds scatter in the sky to the east. I circle the building, past doctors, nurses, patients, and visitors strolling casually. Kieran could be anywhere. I keep running.

  When my breath tightens, I stop to catch it. Three weeks ago, I could barely move. I was brought back to life, and I’m not about to let it slip away.

  Finally, when I’ve almost fully circled the entire building, I find him. Kieran paces the lawn, his hands in his pockets, head bowed. I pick up my speed.

  He must hear me coming, because the moment I’m about to call his name, he turns. He moves toward me, clearly perplexed.

  “Did you mean what you said?” he asks intently, his body now close to mine. “About not being the girl you were.”

  I try to catch my breath and nod at him. “I don’t want to go home, Kieran. I found my life here.” I take a step closer.

  Kieran turns from me and begins pacing again. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Bunny. I can’t be responsible for your mistakes, too. You don’t belong here.”

  “Yes, I do,” I say. “It might be the only thing I do know. And they’re my mistakes to make. You are not responsible for them.”

  Kieran turns back to me, his eyes bright with adrenaline and fatigue. “What about your family, your friends in America? You’re being unreasonable. I can’t let you do that.”

  “Well, it’s not up to you. It’s up to me.”

  Kieran shakes his head. “No. I won’t let you. You’re going home. That was the plan all along. You said a week, maybe two. I let this go on too long.”

  Panic tightens my throat. I need him. He can’t send me away. Not now. Not when we’ve come this far together.

  Suddenly, a memory of fire and the smell of burned plastic overrides my senses, making me feel unsteady on my feet. The feeling I had for so many restless nights of reaching for someone, but never being able to grab on, hold them, touch them, sends me into a spin.

  “Please,” I say to Kieran, reaching for him, feeling his arm within my grasp, knowing he’s there. “You’re all I have. You’re all I want.”

  I’m begging for Kieran to hold me, to meet me halfway—so I can stop reaching, so we can do this together.

  “Do you really mean that?” he asks. “You need to be sure.”

  Yes. Yes. Yes. I’ve never been surer about anything. Kieran lowers his forehead to mine, like he’s tired of holding himself together.

  “You saved me,” I say.

  I feel him shake his head. “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. You don’t need saving, Bunny.”

  I am strong—I feel that now down to my core.

  “I know what I want,” I say.

  “Then ask me, Bunny.” The frustration has melted from Kieran’s eyes. All that’s left is anticipation.

  “Will you kiss me?”

  He steps close, a fire in his eyes that he hasn’t let me see before. “As long as you remember . . . you asked for this.”

  Kieran’s lips press to mine. I want to gasp for air, but the sensation of his mouth erases the need for breath, the need to move, to do anything but feel him.

  His mouth slowly pries my lips apart. Bliss runs in tingles down my arms and legs. Kieran’s tongue tangles with mine, and he pulls me closer. His hands grasp at my back, knotting my shirt in his fists, pressing me to him.

  I stand on tiptoes, wanting to be closer, needing it. No more backing away. Kieran lifts me off my feet, and I float above the ground. His tongue runs along my bottom lip, and I think there is no better sensation in the world. A small moan escapes my lips, euphoria making me dizzy.

  But all too soon, Kieran sets me down, his body pulling back, his hands untangling from me. I lean forward, ready for more, but his mouth separates from mine. He leans in, running his lips along my cheek and settling his mouth on my ear. Shivers spread on my skin.

  “People are staring, Bunny.”

  I step back from Kieran, embarrassed. He gives me a sly grin, and in an instant, I want to be back in his arms with his lips on mine.

  “Don’t give me that look, Bunny. I’m trying to control myself.”

  “Who said I want you to control yourself?”

  Kieran groans, and for a second I think he might kiss me again, but he steps back. “Not here.”

  I take a step closer. “Then where?”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  Anywhere you’ll kiss me. That’s my answer. But as the ecstasy of kissing him calms to a warm hum, I remember what Siobhan said. Kieran can change his life. But he won’t do it hiding out in Waterville.

  “I think it’s time you take me to Dublin.”

  CHAPTER 21

  The suggestion isn’t an instant hit, but when Siobhan tells Kieran to “get the hell out of the hospital” and declares that she “doesn’t need a babysitter when she has a baby of her own to look after,” and Clive says he’s staying with her whether she likes it or not, Kieran softens to the idea.

  “Get out of here!” Siobhan yells. “Before I call security and have you kicked out. I can’t breastfeed a baby in front of my brother.”

  Kieran pats Clive on the back. “Good luck, lad. Seems like our Von is back to her usual self.”

  Clive responds lovingly. “Thank the Lord.”

  We leave them as Clive climbs into bed next to Siobhan, cradling her in his arms. I know she’s in good hands. The best, really.

  I should be exhausted—we both should be—but I feel electric next to Kieran as we leave the hospital.

  “So how long does it take to get to Dublin from here?”

  “A little over three hours.”

  I don’t know when we’ll be back in Waterville. The feeling of change is in the air—for me and Kieran, and for Siobhan and Clive. What I thought I knew is no longer. But my fear of the future doesn’t exist anymore. I’m beyond that now.

  “I don’t have any clothes,” I say.

  Kieran glances over his shoulder at me as he walks up to his truck. “Who said we need clothes?” He looks different in the sunlight suddenly. Lighter. He opens the truck’s passenger door. “Are you coming, Bunny?”

  And I pick up my pace.

  Dunnes department store is in the center of Tralee. The streets are tangled with everything from mobile phone stores to pubs. People are everywhere this afternoon. The streets are busy with cars and buses. If Tralee feels overwhelming, I can’t imagine what Dublin will be like. Life doesn’t stop here. It doesn’t slow down to look back. There’s a comfort in the frenetic energy.

  I shop hurriedly in the ladies department, grabbing a few shirts and pants before heading over to the undergarments section. The last time I picked out underwear, my choices were limited, and I wasn’t necessarily worried about who might see them. But as I peruse the racks of lacy, cotton, and silk underwear, my attention drifts to who might see them now. It convolutes my brain, so I just grab the pair closest to me. Last time I tried to dress up for Kieran, it backfired.

  With clothes picked out, I make my way to the men’s section. A few people toddle through the racks, but I can’t find Kieran anywhere. Minutes pass. The song playing over the department store speakers changes twice, but Kieran is nowhere to be found. My heart rate picks up against my will. Back in the women’s section, thinking maybe Kieran came to find me, all I see are a few clerks organizing clothes.

  The enormity of Dun
nes becomes apparent as I speed through the different departments, searching for Kieran. Section after section is like a maze. Eventually, I stand paralyzed in the middle of the store, clothes in hand. This is what it feels like to be without him. I try to let the feeling wash over me, but it’s too awful. People become scary strangers, and I’m just drifting.

  “Bunny, what are you doing?” I hear Kieran behind me.

  A bag is clutched in his hand. I run toward him, grabbing him securely around the neck and pressing myself to him. My heart races, pounding into his.

  Even when Kieran tells me he popped across the street to get us some proper food for the drive, that he thought I needed more time, I still can’t shake the lost, unanchored feeling. Like starting all over again. Knowing that strength is what got us to this point, I push the feeling down. This isn’t about me now.

  We go through the checkout line. When the cashier picks up my underwear, Kieran gives me a sideways glance.

  I shrug. “Do you think they’ll fit?”

  “Don’t, Bunny.”

  “Don’t what?”

  He shakes his head. “This is going to be a long drive to Dublin.”

  “You again.” The smell of fresh bread and sugar is all around me. I realize I’m in a bakery. “I thought you’d be gone by now.”

  “Don’t most people winter in Cleveland?”

  I laugh. “That’s Florida.”

  “I’m starting to think maybe Cleveland is the hidden gem of America. Nicest people I’ve ever met.”

  “I think that’s what they say about people from your country. You barely survived the Dawg Pound in that ridiculous shirt.”

  “A dare’s a dare,” he says.

  “Can I get you anything? We’re known for our sugar cookies, but the macaroons are a close second.”

  “I have heard that next to Paris, Cleveland is the place to come for a good macaroon.”

  “Have you been to Paris?” I ask.

  “Yes. Dreadful place. Just awful. Horrible, snobbish people. We should go together.” He comes to stand in front of me, his blond hair almost the color of my own—though his is natural. Mine was a rebellious mistake. My dad is still making fun of me.

  “You’re asking me to go to Paris with you? We just met.”

  “So?”

  “So . . . I can’t just up and leave my life to go to Paris with a stranger.”

  “There’s only one solution then,” he says, brushing his hair from his forehead. His words are as charming as his body language. “I’ll just have to stay here in Cleveland until you agree.”

  “That’s a crazy idea.”

  “I’ve done worse.” He beams at me, his brown eyes holding mine. “So is that a yes? You’ll go to Paris with me one day?”

  I should run the other way, but something flickers inside that keeps me still—a part that itches for an adventure. I don’t give him a concrete answer. Instead, I hand him a sugar cookie. “We’ll see.”

  “Bunny, wake up. We’re in Dublin.” Kieran touches my arm. I sit up sluggishly. The radio is fuzzy in the background. A male voice with a thick Irish accent comes through the speakers. He sounds like he’s announcing a sports game.

  Kieran turns off the radio. “Sorry, I needed noise to keep me awake.”

  My dream was clearer than the ones in the past. Others have been vague—words, feelings, people without faces, voices without feelings—but in this one I could see, feel, practically taste the sugar.

  “Kieran?” His eyes are on the road, but I ask, “Will you look at me?”

  Without hesitation, he turns, his blue eyes tired. “Is everything OK?”

  It wasn’t Kieran in my dream. Sitting next to him now gives me a different feeling—this is real. The person in my dream isn’t. I could be making up memories at this point, my mind wanting to create a moment that was never there. Now is not the time to wonder. I have too much in my life to ponder the past.

  “I’m fine,” I say.

  Buildings branch out before us. Traffic surrounds our car, honking, filling the tangled mess of streets. Kieran drives speedily, as if he’s done this a million times, dodging between cars and swerving so close to them I think we might take someone’s side mirror off. This is Kieran’s real home. I watch him navigate, the city boy who was raised in boarding schools with fine things, who now attends Trinity College, who has tailored suits and can travel all over the world. He’s comfortable here, yet it’s clear in his posture that a piece of him is uncomfortable to be back, too.

  “Did your friends stick around Dublin for the summer?” I ask.

  “What?” Kieran concentrates on the road.

  “Your friends from school? Are they around?”

  “Some,” he says.

  “Maybe you could introduce me to them?”

  Kieran pulls up to a building that is noticeably taller than the rest, and says, “Maybe.” His tone makes it clear that he wants to avoid the topic. Something’s happened that he won’t speak about. He really was hiding in Waterville. But pressing the issue won’t help, so I let it drop, for now.

  Dublin is compact, with buildings crammed next to each other. Most can’t be more than three or four stories tall. The building we’ve pulled up to, though, towers over the rest in the area. It’s on a canal, surrounded by water on three sides.

  “What is this place?” I ask. The windows that line most of the building hover above us.

  “Millennium Tower,” Kieran says. “It’s the tallest residential building in Dublin.”

  Even Kieran’s voice sounds tired. He’s trying to hold himself together after the stress of the past two days, but now that we’ve arrived, I can tell his body’s giving out.

  We walk into the building, through the lobby, and to the elevator. After we step inside, Kieran presses the button for the tenth floor. He leans back against the wall, resting his head, like he could fall asleep standing up.

  But when the elevator dings our arrival on the tenth floor, he grabs my hand and promptly leads me forward. Our intertwined fingers give me a jolt of adrenaline. Kieran has never grabbed my hand so casually before. He’s always acted unsure, but now, as he unlocks the door and pulls me inside with him, it’s as if any hesitation has disappeared. Almost.

  His apartment startles me. One entire wall is lined with windows. The others are clean and white. The fading daylight casts a warm glow over the black accent furniture. This place is cosmopolitan. It’s the opposite of Kieran, and I get the feeling he had very little to do with furnishing it. In a way, it reminds me of the suit he was wearing all those weeks ago—the one he threw out.

  “This was another graduation bribe from my dad,” Kieran says. “Though I don’t own the place. He does. I’m just forced to live here and thank him for it.”

  “I take it he picked out the décor.”

  “My father wouldn’t waste his time.” Kieran grins at me. “His assistant did.”

  “Has his assistant ever met you?” I joke, picking up one of the decorative bowls on the coffee table. This place is more like a showroom than an apartment. Nothing speaks to Kieran’s taste or personality.

  He laughs. “Never.”

  “Why accept it?” I set the bowl down.

  “It was better than one of the small apartments at Trinity.” Kieran winks at me, but I know there’s more.

  I take a step toward the window. “Your dad chose a place this high up,” I say. “I take it he doesn’t know about your fear of heights?”

  “He knows nothing about me.” An added layer of fatigue is in Kieran’s voice, but he disregards my sympathy. “I actually prefer being high up.”

  “That’s right.” I roll my eyes. “You’re the guy who wants to be a pilot. You live to torture yourself.”

  “Flying isn’t the torture in my life, Bunny.” Kieran runs his hand along the leather couch. I want to shake everything out of him until all his broken pieces are on the ground, exposed. Then we can start to fix his life. But it won’t be th
at simple. I know by now that Kieran may help others easily, but he doesn’t freely hand out much about himself.

  I continue toward the window, step by step, unsure how I will react being this high up. But even as small twinges of fear arise, they disappear quickly.

  “No more fear of heights?” Kieran says.

  “I think I was more afraid of fear itself.”

  Below me, the canal runs into a river that seems to cut Dublin in half. Miles and miles of streets intertwine ten stories down, but the view extends farther, past the concrete, all the way to the ocean.

  “It’s amazing,” I say, leaning closer to the glass.

  “You can see all the way across Dublin Bay from up here.”

  I reach my hand out to him. “Come stand next to me and look.”

  He takes my hand in his, wrapping his fingers around mine, our palms pressing together. My stomach pulls tight with happiness.

  “You’ve changed, Bunny,” he says.

  “I told you.” We step up to the glass, our noses practically touching the window, but Kieran doesn’t stay long before he lets go of my hand and sits down on the couch.

  I walk around the apartment. The kitchen is modern with sleek finishes and gourmet appliances. The only bedroom has a king-size bed, and there’s a large bathroom. I’m tempted to scour his drawers and closets, as if his hidden secrets will reveal themselves, but that would only set us back, and I understand keeping things inside. For now, I have to let it be.

  When I walk back into the living room, Kieran is resting on the couch, his eyes closed. The chaos of the past two days has finally hit him, forcing sleep whether he likes it or not. But even in a state of surrender, tension creases his face, and his hands are balled into fists.

  I get a blanket from the bedroom, carefully pull Kieran’s shoes from his feet, and prop him up comfortably. The blanket moves up and down with his breath. I want to memorize him. To etch his face into my memory so that no matter what happens, I will never forget the way he looks right now—his black hair falling over his forehead, his lips slightly apart. I’d give anything to kiss him again, but for tonight, I’ll have to settle for a view of the bay, curling up in his bed, and wrapping myself in his sheets, as though they were his arms.