Waters Fall

by Becky Doughty

  By the time they all parted ways, Jake was plastered, and even he knew it. He was always good at hiding his condition from other drinkers, especially when the alcohol was just beginning to have its effect on his system, and he convinced everyone he was fine and didn't need a ride. How would he explain the absence of his truck to his wife?

  He was fumbling with his keys, trying to fit the wrong key into the door of his Blazer, when the waitress who’d been so attentive all night approached him. “You okay, Jake?”

  He wasn't sure how she knew his name, but she was awfully pretty, and her voice poured over him like cool water. “Now that you're here, I am.” He reached over and tugged on a strand of hair that had come loose from the clip at the back of her head.

  “Can I help you with that?” She came and stood right beside him, blocking the light from the lamppost behind them, her body casting a shadow on the lock.

  “I can't see my keys now. You're blinding my light.”

  “Blinding your light, huh?” She laughed, and Jake put his arm around her shoulder, leaning into her. “I don’t think you should be driving, big guy.”

  “I’m fine,” he slurred, squinting down at her, but her face was too close to focus on.

  “No, you’re not fine,” she giggled. “How 'bout I drive you home, and you can call me a cab from your place in the morning?” Jake let his arm fall away from her shoulders, then brought his hand up to her cheek, his thumb caressing her bottom lip.

  “I don’t think my wife will like that.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe she will.” Her voice came from somewhere low and beckoning, and he tipped his head to listen to it, not really caring what words she spoke. “Give me your keys, Jake.” She had turned so that she was leaning back against the driver’s door, facing him. She reached for the keys dangling from his fingers, but instead of taking them, she grabbed his hand and pulled him up against her. He didn’t resist. “Or we could go to my place and I could have you all to myself.” Then she reached up and pulled his head down, pressing her pretty lips to his mouth.

  He felt a tremor course through his body; it was an unexpected shock to his system, like bumping up against an electric fence. He jerked his head up, staring down at her upturned face.

  “I'm married. I love my wife.”

  “Of course you do. I'm sure she's great. Come here and kiss me again.” She slid her fingers into his hair and pulled him toward her again, standing up on tiptoe now to meet him halfway.

  The second kiss lasted much longer than the first, her mouth open and wanton under his; the third and fourth one blended together with the fifth as he leaned into her, pinning her up against his truck.

  “Come on, Jakey,” she murmured. “Let’s get out of here.”

  The name hit him like a bucket of cold water, and Jake lurched backward, stumbling a little in a pothole in the pavement. “Oh, God. Oh, God. What am I doing? Oh, God, help me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. No, no, no. I can't. Oh, I'm so sorry...” He didn't even know her name. “I'm so sorry for this. I have to go. Please, please forgive me. My wife. I love my wife. Oh, God, forgive me.” His throat was tight with shame as he none-too-gently gripped her by the shoulders and moved her aside. He clambered up behind the wheel, scrubbing the back of his hand across his mouth.

  Jake pulled his pillow over his head now, his stomach churning as the memories of his night played over and over in his mind. How could he let that girl kiss him like that? How could he kiss her back?

  And then he drove home! He didn't remember anything after pulling out of the parking lot. Nothing. How did he get home? How did he make it here alive? Without killing anyone else? Shame washed over him in wave upon wave, and he groaned into the pillow.

  If she hadn’t called him Jakey, who knows what might have happened.

  ~ ~ ~

  Dinner that night in the Anderson home was a lighthearted event. Jake stayed in bed, claiming the flu, and the kids were empathetic. Nora, still basking in the after-glow of the surreal afternoon spent with Tristan, was thoroughly enjoying the antics of her children. She glanced at Jake's empty chair a few times, but every time she did, the thought popped into her head that perhaps his absence was the reason it was so pleasant tonight.

  Nora had the kids help her clean up after dinner, then they set up a board game on the table. Not having a fourth person determined which games they could play, and she thought there might be a problem when Felix really wanted to play one that required equal teams. But they compromised and played Sorry, a family favorite.

  “I don't think it's fair that a guy has to go back home if another one lands on the same square,” Felix muttered, having had his game piece sent home for the third time.

  “That's the reason it's called 'Sorry' Felix.” Leslie had no qualms whatsoever about booting someone else's piece.

  “Well, I don't get it. In Candy Land, we share the spot. In this adult game, we fight over it. Doesn't that say something about being an adult?”

  “Hm,” Nora murmured, nodding her head. “You know, I think you might have a point there.”

  “Yes. Yes, you do. In fact, I think I see it!” Leslie jabbed at the top of Felix's head. “Right there! It's poking through your hair! Disgusting!”

  “Cut it out! Mom, make her stop poking my head.”

  They read together on the sofa before bed every night, except when Nora didn’t get home in time. The latest book, a story about a stow-away on board a pirate ship, was full of adventure and mystery. Even though Leslie claimed she was too old to need a bedtime story, she enjoyed the tradition just as much as Felix did. So did Nora.

  She and Jake often read together in the first year of their marriage. He was an avid Tolkien fan, and she was happy to oblige, as Tolkien was a favorite of hers, too. She began reading out loud to her children when they were still in utero, and hadn't stopped since.

  Leslie and Felix poked their heads in the bedroom door and blew kisses at their father. He told them he loved them, and assured them he was feeling better already. “I'll be fine by morning, I promise. I just needed to rest today.”

  Nora said their prayers with them, tucked them in, and headed back to the living room to straighten things up for the night. She eyed the couch dubiously, realizing that she, not Jake, would be crashing there tonight.

  She was not sleepy at all, though, so she filled the kettle with water, and while she waited for the water to boil, she hurried out to her car to pull her case from the back seat; she would try to get some work done. By the time she got back inside, the kettle began to whistle, and Jake was at the stove turning the burner off.

  “Thanks,” she muttered. She didn't want to talk to him. She didn't want to look at him. She wanted this time for herself, for her work. She didn't want him around distracting her.

  Or making her feel guilty about this afternoon.

  Jake, in flannel pajama pants and a white tank top, reached up to pull out two ceramic mugs from the cupboard. Nora stared at the muscles in his shoulders gliding beneath his skin. When he set the cups down on the counter, the clinking sound jarred her out of her reverie, and she experienced a momentary twisted sense of deja vu. Any minute now, she almost expected a mug to go flying past her head and shatter on the floor.

  “What kind of tea are you having?” If he’d caught her staring, he didn’t acknowledge it.

  “I'll get it.” She didn't want him being nice to her, especially when he was wearing that shirt. He knew she liked it on him, and she thought perhaps he’d put it on for that very reason.

  “Don’t be silly. I'm right here,” he said, indicating the basket of tea bags on the counter beside him. “Which one do you want?”

  “Earl Grey, then. Real sugar.” She opened her portfolio and began spreading paperwork and prints out on the table top.

  “Are you going to stay up for a while?” he asked, pouring steaming water over the teabags.

  “Yes. I didn't get much work done today, and I can't afford to take any time off.
”

  She could hear the tinkling sound of Jake stirring their drinks as she organized piles on the table. He brought her tea and set it at a safe distance from her papers, then pulled out a chair for himself.

  “I'm sorry for the way I acted last night.” He sighed deeply. “I behaved…I was a jerk.”

  “I don't think it was a behavior problem, Jake. You were drunk.” She said it without looking at him.

  “Yes. I was drunk. And I'm sorry.”

  Nora didn't respond.

  “I can hardly believe it myself, and I feel terrible.”

  She really did not want to have this conversation. In fact, as she listened to his words, it occurred to her that no matter how good he looked right now, she didn't really care what he had to say. It just didn't matter. All she wanted was for him to go away and leave her alone.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” From her peripheral vision, she could see Jake cock his head to one side. “That's it?”

  “I'm not sure what else you want me to say.” She still wouldn’t look at him.

  “So it's okay that I went out and got drunk last night? It's okay that I drove my truck home plastered? It's okay that I passed out in the bathtub, scaring you half to death when you came home for lunch today?”

  “Actually, none of that's okay, Jake. I mean that I’m okay with you feeling terrible. You should. But no, I’m not okay with any of what happened last night, or with anything that happened today, for that matter. And because I’m not, a few things are going to change around here. I'm not going to let you and your choices affect me anymore. I'm going to do what I need to do to provide for this family, regardless of what you do. I'm not going to let you disappoint me anymore, because I'm not going to depend on you for anything anymore. And I’m okay with that, too.”

  “I don't follow you.” She could hear the slight tremor in his voice. Was he afraid? Good.

  “It's not that tough, Jakey. If you are capable of making the decisions you made last night, then you have no right to make decisions for me and the kids. You're on your own.” She picked up a pile of client files and began thumbing through them. She tried not to think about the not so great decision she’d made this afternoon.

  Jake sat silent for so long that Nora's thoughts wandered of their own accord back to her afternoon with Tristan. The way he studied her had really unnerved her, but at the same time, flattered her. He wasn’t begging her to notice him, the way Jake was right now. He stared at her as though there was something fascinating about her, intriguing. Like a hunter eyes his prey.

  When Jake spoke, she jumped. “I'm not leaving.”

  Nora snorted derisively, hoping he wouldn’t notice her flushed cheeks. “I'm not asking you to leave. I'm just releasing you from the responsibility of your family. Like I said, I'm tired of being disappointed by you, and it's pretty obvious from your decision to ditch your children for a night out at the bar, that you really don't want that kind of responsibility anyway. So, you're free, Jake. You’re a free man.”

  “Look at me, Nora.”

  Still standing, she eyed him across the length of the table. He looked like he was going to be sick. “Yes?”

  “I'm sorry. It won't happen again. What can I do to make it up to you?”

  “Nothing. There's nothing that can undo what you’ve done. In fact, I don't really care if it does or doesn't happen again. But,” she leaned forward a little, the chandelier over the table throwing the contours of her face into stark relief. “If you so much as think about putting either of my children in a car with you at the wheel at any time in the near future, I will call the police.” She glared at him with cold eyes, wanting to make certain he did not misunderstand her. She’d done some thinking this afternoon after she’d left Tristan’s studio, angry at her own naiveté and blaming Jake for it. “I will be taking them to school and picking them up from now on. I will be home with them after school, and I will take them where they need to go. You are officially relieved of your childcare duties.”

  “Good grief, Nora! You can't just 'relieve me' of my duties.” He waved a dismissive hand in the air.

  “You don't get it, Jake. I'm not the one relieving you. That was your decision. I'm just enforcing it. Put my children in your truck, and I call the police.” She sat down, and opened a file, flipping through the invoices inside.

  “This is ridiculous!” Now Jake pushed himself up, his chair nearly toppling over, and he scrambled to catch it, sloshing a little hot tea on his hand. He set the cup down on the counter behind him and pushed his chair in. “What about you? Why should I let you anywhere near my children with your violent streak? How do I know you're not going to throw a cup at my son's head?”

  “Now who's being ridiculous?” Nora's derision emanated from every pore. “By the way, thank you for cleaning that up. I was glad to see it gone when the kids got home. I would not have wanted you to have to explain it to them.”

  “Argh! This conversation is exhausting! You are so manipulative. I can't tell whether you're grateful or sarcastic, whether you're angry or disappointed. I can't tell whether you care about me or hate my guts! You're impossible!” Jake was pacing now.

  “Well, well, well. There’s another thing that hasn’t happened since your drinking days. I don't think you've called me impossible in over ten years, Jake. Funny how the two seem to go hand-in-hand. You drink, and I'm the one who becomes impossible. Why does that not make any sense to me?”

  “Fine. You win.” Jake raised both hands in surrender.

  “No!” Nora slapped her hand hard on the table. “No, I don't win!” She was yelling again. “I lose! You lose! Your children lose! We all lose because of you, Jake!” Fists clenched at her side, her whole body trembled with her anger and frustration. “We all lose.”

  “Mom?” Leslie stood in the hallway, her hair soft and messy around her face. The innocence there was marred by worry, and Nora's heart twisted inside her.

  10

  “It's okay, honey.” She hurried to Leslie’s side and slipped an arm around her daughter's shoulders. She tried to steer her back to her room. “We're just working some stuff out.”

  But Leslie resisted, looking over her shoulder at her father. “Dad? What's going on?”

  “It's okay, Les. Go back to bed.” He stayed where he was, his arms akimbo, obviously at a loss for words.

  “It doesn't sound like it’s okay.” Leslie was still not convinced. “You were yelling, Mom.”

  “I got frustrated, honey. I can't seem to catch up with things, and I got impatient. Your dad just stepped in the way of my frustration for a bit.”

  “Well,” Leslie said, walking toward the table where Nora’s work was spread about haphazardly, files splayed out like over-sized playing cards. “Why can't you help her, Dad? You seem like you have a lot more time than she does. She's always working. Maybe she'd be around more if you helped her. Look at all this,” Leslie indicated the mess on the table. “Can't you pitch in?”

  “What is this?” It was more an exclamation than a question. “You, too? Does everyone in this house think I'm a loser?'

  “I don't think you're a loser, Daddy. I just thought you might be able to help Mom some more.” Leslie scowled, but Nora could see she only did so to hide the hurt from his outburst.

  “Les,” She touched her daughter's cheek. “Daddy doesn't understand my work. It's not quite that easy.”

  “I don't get it. You didn't go to school for this, did you? I mean, you taught yourself how to do this, right?” She pointed at the table again.

  “But I have a gift for it. It comes naturally to me.” She didn’t want to have this discussion right now. Not only was it futile suggestion, and filling Leslie with false hope, but Nora had so much she needed to get finished before morning. She longed for the quiet of her office.

  “You mean, you took the time to figure it out, right? That's what you always say to us.” She looked over at her dad again, her voice rising insistently. “I
hate algebra, but when I take the time to figure it out, I understand it, and I get it done. Why can't you do that with this stuff?”

  “Leslie. That's enough.” Nora took her hand and pulled her away from the table. “Daddy and I will work this out. You need to go back to bed now. I'm sorry I woke you. We'll be quieter.”

  Leslie went meekly this time, without a backward glance at Jake.

  Nora pulled the covers up and tucked them under the girl’s chin like she did when she was little. She kissed her forehead, both eyes, both cheeks, her chin, and lastly, her nose. Leslie giggled softly.

  “You haven't done that in a long time.”

  “Well, you haven't asked me to.” Nora smiled back in the orange glow of the nightlight.

  “I didn't ask tonight.”

  “Yes, you did. I heard you. In here.” Nora lightly tapped Leslie's forehead, then cupped her cheek.

  “You always seem to know things, Mom. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Lester the Lion.” It was her daughter's “brave name,” something she'd christened herself with as a child to help her be brave enough to sleep in her own room.

  “Are you... is everything... are you guys going to... to be okay?” Leslie stumbled over her words, unshed tears glistening like jewels in the corners of her eyes.

  “We'll work it out, honey. We always do.” Nora didn't want to lie, but she didn't know how things were going to turn out.

  “I wish Daddy would go get a real job. I miss you. Today was nice having you here after school with us again.” Nora saw her frown in the shadows. “Not that we don't love having Daddy around. It's just... well, he's not you. He's Dad, not Mom. That's all.”

  “I know, Les.” Leslie turned onto her side, tucking her folded hands under her cheek.

  “Goodnight, Mom. Sleep tight.”

  “Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” Nora finished. “We both love you very much. See you in the morning, honey.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Jake leaned against the wall at the end of the hallway as he listened to Nora and Leslie talking. The arrow of his daughter's longing pierced his heart, and he felt even worse than he had before she walked in on their argument.