Falling

by Jolene Perry

  I laugh with her, even though uncertainty is starting to taint my happy place.

  “Just be careful, Dana,” she sings. “He’s married, even if he isn’t acting like it.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I laugh. “But this is just for fun.”

  “I’m just sayin…” There’s a hint of tease but also a hint of truth in her voice. It’s okay. She’s not judging me. I don’t think. “Sometimes we fall for someone when we don’t expect it.”

  “Not this time.” I shake my head. “I know what I’m doing.” Hopefully.

  The Odd Couple Would be the Understatement of the Year

  It’s early and Craig knocks quietly on my door before coming in to say goodbye in much the same manner that he said goodnight last night and good afternoon the previous day. It’s as incredible now as it was then—even though my side is really sore. He takes off, hopefully to return sometime next week. I’m groggy from lack of sleep, good sex, painkillers, and little food. I drift off again.

  When I wake up, I grab my glasses and my sweats. I don’t usually wear either in front of people, but I can’t imagine that what I wear or don’t wear will matter in front of scroungy, hairy Jason. It’s easier to read my computer screen with glasses anyway.

  I’m rubbing my eyes as I walk into the kitchen and run into a soft wall. I bounce back against the counter and look up to the largest, hairiest man I’ve ever seen.

  “Holy shit!” I try to focus on the guy in front of me.

  Jason is sitting on the counter on the opposite side of the kitchen, laughing. Hard.

  I’m completely disoriented.

  “I’m Boz,” the large hairy wall in front of me says.

  “Boz?” I ask. His mother must hate him.

  “Yes, Boz.” He shakes his head like I’m daft or something. Me.

  “Boz lives next door. He helps out in the kitchen,” Jason explains, still wiping tears.

  “Boz.” I look him over again. I laugh because actually the name suits him. Boz.

  “You must need coffee.” Boz must be over six feet. He’s broad and fat and has a huge reddish beard and is even shaggier than Jason. I feel like I’m in the world of hairy mountain men. But then I decide I can handle them. It’ll just be…an experience.

  “You get your coffee, and then I’ll fill you in on what needs to be done around here. If you’re not up for it, you need to let me know. It’s not a big deal, but there’s a lot of hard work to do, and I can’t afford for you to have the room unless you can pull your own weight.” Jason isn’t snotty, just matter of fact, but I’m still not used to being treated like this—especially not by guys.

  I throw him a look. “I heard you yesterday. You can hear everything down here from the purple Twilight room.” I pour myself a cup of coffee and sit on one of the two tables you can see from the open doorway of the kitchen. And then I start to wonder if that hearing thing goes both ways because I don’t think Craig and I were actually quiet.

  “You can hear everything except the six-feet-two-inch sasquatch from next door.” He suppresses a smile.

  Boz laughs. I don’t say anything. Jason is intent on his computer. This is quite a party.

  I take in the area again. Kitchen in one corner, a living room set up in another corner, and fifteen or so worn, wooden picnic tables scattered against the wall of windows that look over the snow fields below.

  “What’cha doin’?” I ask Jason. He’s so intent on his computer.

  “Working.” He glances up briefly.

  “On what?”

  He sighs. “Just working.”

  Well, just in case we weren’t already clear on where I stand with him…

  “Ready for the tour?” Jason asks.

  “Ready.” I start to smile, but he’s already moving. He moves easily and quickly despite being practically glued to his computer for hours.

  I get the full tour of the outside, cabins, the dumpy showers, the laundry, and all the other mundane tasks that are part of running his lodge.

  I’m waiting for Jason to warm up to me, or talk to me about more than what he needs to say, but he never does, just slides me a few pieces of pizza when we finish and flops down in front of the TV—computer back on his lap. I’m starting to get curious as to what he’s doing.

  His pizza’s surprisingly good, but I’m going to have to watch my carb and fat intake. Pizza is deadly to waistlines and hip measurements. “So, everything’s set up. Now what?” I ask.

  “Whatever you want to do.” He simply continues typing away with ESPN in the background. I’m not exactly sure why he doesn’t like me. I guess it shouldn’t matter. Well, actually, it doesn’t matter. At all. I don’t care.

  “Do you have a Wii?” I’m hoping for a little workout or at least a little distraction.

  “No games.” Boz laughs from the couch.

  “What?”

  “I just don’t want any video games up here, that’s all.” Jason shrugs.

  “Whatever.” Weird. I’ll just pick a table, and pull out my computer again—maybe that’s why Jason’s always on his. There’s nothing else to do, and I begin to realize how long the weeks are going to feel between Craig visits.

  Jason and Boz laugh at something on the TV, on the other side of the vast room, and I’m trying to remember a time in my life when I felt this alone, and I’m not sure that I ever have. It pulls at me, and makes me want to call Craig, but I refuse to play the part of every guy who nagged me through college.

  I’m tough. I’m strong. I can handle this.

  And I’m going to have to repeat this a lot of times for it to feel true.

  The Brother.

  My phone rings and startles me awake. Jumping like that still really hurts. I’m pulling up blankets trying to find my phone, wondering if Dad ever looked at the photos I sent him around Christmas. When I finally get my hand on the thing, I check the ID. Keith.

  I really don’t want to talk to my brother right now. Unfortunately, I know he’ll keep calling until he gets through. Best to get it over with.

  “Hey Keith.” My voice is cracked from just waking up, but I don’t care as much how I sound when I’m talking to Keith as I do when I’m talking to Dad.

  “Dad said he talked to you and you sounded okay.” His voice sounds more matter-of-fact than concerned.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Do you think you’ll come home?” he asks.

  “Well, honestly I’m a little tied up at the moment given that my ribs are making it hard to breathe and move.” Overstatement. My ribs are healing up quickly. Without all the extra Craig-exertion, I’d be doing pretty well.

  “I didn’t mean right this second, Dana.” His voice is impatient, and I picture him running his hand over his straight brown hair. Keith and I look so similar. Same pale skin. Same stick straight hair and angular face. His high cheekbones give him no end of compliments from the girls, and I’m almost as tall as him, too, which makes him a little insane.

  “I know you didn’t mean right this second.” I have no idea why he’s calling. We talk sometimes but not a ton. Conversations with Keith generally backfire. He reads me better than Dad does and then reports back to Dad. It’s a pretty crappy arrangement—for me anyway.

  “So, you’re settled back into your routine now?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “I thought your roommate, Leann, was helping you out. She works at that hotel with you, right? Life should be back to normal.”

  His attitude about what I’m doing in Alaska generally pisses me off. “That hotel is the nicest one in Anchorage. She manages the Crow’s Nest, which, in my opinion, is the nicest restaurant in town. I take care of any and every event planned at that—”

  “I know what you do, Dana.” Keith has the same impatient voice as Dad. “It’s still a waste of your talents and probably won’t get you anywhere.”

  “Is this why you called, Keith? To give me the same lecture you do every time we talk?” And the one I expect from Dad?
In my mind it would seem that Keith should be happy when I’m not living up to the lofty expectations of my family.

  “No. Sorry.” He exhales. “Work’s been crazy.”

  I wait for him to continue.

  “So, what else is going on? And why did you say ‘not exactly’ when I asked if you were settled back into your routine?”

  “Who said something else is going on?” I ask. I realize as soon as it comes out of my mouth that it probably wasn’t the thing to say.

  “I can just tell.”

  I sigh. Might as well get it over with now. “I’m not telling you anything unless you promise not to tell Dad.”

  “What?”

  “Promise.” I stop for a moment. “He’ll worry too much, and it’s not that big of a deal.”

  “Dana…” He sounds disapproving, and I haven’t even said anything yet.

  “Just before I got run off the road I saw these two guys. One of them got shot in the head. The other one ran me off the road. And as far as I know, I’m the only witness.”

  “Only you.” I can feel his stare and exasperation over the phone.

  “Look! It wasn’t my fault. The directions to my friend’s house were bad, and I just happened to be the one—”

  “Well, shit, Dana. Why don’t you just come home? If the state of Alaska doesn’t want to fly you up there to testify, they’ll have to do without you. I’m sure I can arrange something. The firm always needs a little pro bono work. I’ll slide you in.”

  I’m kind of pissed now. “Don’t bother, Keith. I’m not leaving. And I’m not at home. I’m staying at this…very cool wilderness lodge for a bit.” Lie.

  “Gah.” He breathes out. “Why do you have to be so stubborn? Why can’t you admit that going up there was a big mistake?” I’m sure his lanky arms are thrown up in the air in exasperation.

  “Because it wasn’t a mistake! You’ve never even been here, Keith. Don’t judge what you don’t know.” Each word is really piercing into my ribs now.

  I figured I’d get some peace from them up here. I took a cruise with friends halfway through college, and we had a blast. It seemed like a good place to de-stress for a year. I was obviously wrong.

  “Well, maybe I’ll come up for a short visit. Hang out at this lodge you’re hiding out in.”

  I go pale for a moment until I remember something. “You only take time off to ski or golf with Dad. Talk to you later, Keith.”

  “Wait,” he warns. “I have a condition—if you don’t want Dad to know.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I want to strangle him now, but if I’m too mad he’ll do something to get me back. He’s really annoying that way. Deals between us never end up well.

  “You have to keep me informed or I will tell Dad.”

  “What? How old are we?”

  “Believe it or not, Dana. I’m worried about you way up there. I thought you were at home. I mean, changing where you’re sleeping every night is sort of a big deal. Just call once in a while and keep me informed.” And he does sound worried, but I’m too pissed to care.

  “And if you don’t answer your phone?” I add with the best snotty voice I can manage. He never answers his phone. If Keith wants to talk, he’ll call you.

  “Leave a message, Dana. That’s what voicemail is for.” His voice is tired. We’ve had this interchange before.

  “Talk to you later, brother.” I’m done.

  “Later, sister.”

  I push End on my phone with as much force as I can manage. No matter how we argue, we always end our conversations like that. The only time we didn’t is when his best friend broke my heart. Keith should have been on my side for that one, not Clive’s.

  JASON

  Oh, Lord. Just Help Me Get Through the Day Without Embarrassing Myself

  The first group of snowmachiners came in last night, Thursday, and I’m up early to start the weekend. I’m booked up, and really hoping Dana can keep up because I need Boz’s help in the kitchen.

  I flip over the sausages and Dana flounces in wearing painted on jeans that ride low on her waist, and her lodge T-shirt knotted up to show a strip of very toned stomach, which isn’t even as good as the thin strip of skin across her back. The bruising on her side is almost unnoticeable.

  “Shit!” I hiss as my hand gets too close to the griddle. I gotta pay attention.

  “You okay?” Dana’s got a smirk that says she knows exactly what distracted me.

  I’m definitely going to need to stay focused today. Instead of answering, I point to her outfit with my spatula. “You know this is a family place.”

  “We’ll earn more in tips, trust me.” She shrugs, her very straight, shiny hair hanging down at right about breast level.

  I spin back to the griddle. I cannot be watching her like this unless I want to be half hard all day, which I don’t. It’s been way too long since I’ve been with someone. That’s all it is. I dislike her on principle—the Craig issue. And I dislike her because I’ve spent too much time around people her type—smart, spoiled, and probably proud of both of those attributes.

  Dana wanders into the almost empty dining area, which I can see half of from the kitchen, and stops at one of the bulletin boards of photos.

  “That’s Jason there, with his brothers.” Boz stops behind her.

  Great. Not what I need. She’ll probably start to give me crap over my beard now, too. At least Justine isn’t here. Though if she were, I might not have to be dealing with Dana.

  “Here?” Dana sounds disbelieving. And I really shouldn’t be listening.

  “Yeah.” Boz laughs. “Right there.”

  “Wow.” She shifts her weight, which I also shouldn’t notice. If she’d just cover up that damn strip of skin. “If he can look like that, why does he have the beard?”

  “I’d imagine it has something to do with the ex-wife.” Boz chuckles.

  Dammit. I don’t need this girl knowing anything about me.

  “Morning, Boz!” I shout in an attempt to break up their conversation.

  Boz jumps and walks my way. Dana stands there, still looking over the photo wall, hands on hips while me, and all four guys at table eight stare at her.

  Dana surprises me all damn day. She’s good with orders, great with customers, and pulls in three times as much money in tips as Boz, Justine or me. She cleans tables, does dishes, and she walks through the day like she’s the only contestant on a game show and knows she’s going to win.

  The guys ogle her, but the women still like her, and by Friday night, I’m a bit amazed, and maybe. Almost. Glad she’s here.

  “Tomorrow might be a problem if you’re as quiet as you were today,” she says as she empties out the dishwasher, putting dishes away like she’s lived here her whole life.

  “I wasn’t aware I was being quiet.” Only I was completely aware, because I didn’t want to stare at her. Don’t want her to know I’m glad she’s here. She’s already a contradiction in my mind because there’s this hard-working side of her, but I feel like it’s all an act. Which is fine, because it’s getting the job done, but can anybody really just float through life this way?

  I know she has to be a million miles out of her element here, and yet she’s here, and working like it’s what she’s always done. Probably she’s just smart. And gorgeous. And stupid about men because any smart girl should be able to see through Craig in a heartbeat.

  “You didn’t know you were being quiet?” Her brows rise. “Is that a joke?”

  Irritation flashes through me. “You did great today. Thank you. I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morning.” I drop the dishtowel on the counter and head for my door.

  Dana’s silent behind me.

  Good.

  Better.

  She’s right. I am quiet, and she can be quiet, and then I’ll have less reason to be any kind of conflicted about her because she’ll continue to be the girl who is almost definitely having sex with my cousin’s husband. And is a cookie cutter spoiled
girl from the city. I don’t need or want to be friendly with either.

  “Okay.” Boz flops his feet onto the coffee table in my apartment. “I get that you don’t like Dana.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I fold my arms.

  “You’re acting like a woman. Cut that shit out. Either tell her you want her out, or just deal with her.”

  I sigh. “It’s Craig, and…”

  “And your prejudices against anyone who has any resemblance to ‘the kind of people you left school to get away from.’” And he actually uses air quotes.

  “I’m not that bad.” I shake my head.

  “You were a grade-A jerkoff, and she worked her ass off for you.”

  I rub my forehead a few times. “I’ll tone it down, but Taylor’s—”

  “Then tell Taylor. Talk to Craig. Talk to Dana. But don’t pull the passive-aggressive BS.” Boz plays with the ends of his beard. “You know you love me.” He laughs a belly laugh before standing up. “It’s that she seemed to get through the weekend okay, but no one would have been unaffected, Jase. You were almost silent. It was an asshole move. You’re better than that.”

  “Shit, Boz. Now you sound like my mom. Done with the lecture?”

  “Yep.” He stands up and rubs his stomach. “I’m headed home. Got another post office run coming up.”

  “Don’t those little old ladies get suspicious?” It’s not a real post office, just a contract station, but still. He’s there a lot.

  “No way, man.” He grins. “Those little old ladies love me.”

  Leave it to Boz. And I’m still not sure where I stand on the whole Dana thing, but maybe I came across worse than I thought. Maybe.

  DANA

  Week. Weak. Whatever.

  By Monday things are slow, and on Tuesday it’s dead. I figure that cleaning up and doing all the “chores” Jason laid out for me last week will keep me busy, but I realize I’ll finish in a morning. Then what?

  I tell Jason I’m going to do one last check of the cabins outside, and he grunts in response.