How to Fall

by Rebecca Brooks

  “I’m with Jamie. Rio is where it’s at,” Blake said.

  “I’m not saying Rio doesn’t have its merits,” Lukas interjected. “Just that it’s a completely different kind of city—one that has to be evaluated on its own aesthetic terms.”

  “It’s fucking gorgeous, there’s a million things to do, you take three steps in any direction and you’re either in the mountains or at the beach. Plus you have the culture, entertainment, nightlife, and activities of any major metropolitan area, without the congestion of skyscrapers like you have in São Paulo. What’s not to love?” Jamie said.

  “Who, you mean me?” Chris asked, sliding into the empty seat next to him.

  “It’s stiff competition between you and Rio,” Jamie teased.

  “Oh. Well, I know when I’m definitely beat. Are you sure we can’t make it there for New Year’s?”

  “If we have to wind up in Chile, shouldn’t we head there from here, instead of going another twelve hours east just to come back again?”

  “I know, I know. So practical,” she grumbled. “Are you going?”

  Lukas shrugged. “I want to head north to the Pantanal for some wildlife shots. The whole region is supposed to be completely different from the Amazon. Because it’s so open, you can really see everything.”

  “You do wildlife photography?” Julia asked.

  “Not specifically, but since I’m so close it’d be a shame to miss it. I can go up to the Pantanal and then who knows. I’d like to go to Paraguay and then Bolivia. Maybe up to Ecuador and over to the Galapagos if I can afford it, or else wind back down south through Chile and Argentina, like you said. But I’m open—no time limit except for when the funds run out, but hopefully the photographs will cover that.”

  “Wherever the winds lead,” Chris said.

  “Our flight’s out of Santiago, so that’s where we have to wind up,” Jamie reminded her.

  “Ugh, I hate planning.” Chris rolled her eyes.

  “Yeah, well. Somebody’s got to do it.”

  The waiter arrived with another round of caipirinhas and plates of food Chris had ordered at the bar. It was nice of her to take care of everything, but Julia couldn’t help feeling like that was such a Chris thing to do, taking charge and making everyone’s decisions—even what they’d have to eat.

  Still, the food was good, and she’d ordered enough for everyone to share. A whole fried red snapper, plus plantains and more yucca to pick at. Plates of rice and beans and sautéed greens. There was shrimp in something fermented and salty and a grain that everyone sprinkled over all the food. Julia dug into a little of everything, remembering how when she’d been by herself, she’d hardly known what to order even when she could figure out some place to go.

  “So I guess no one’s heading to Rio for New Year’s,” Chris moped, picking up the conversation where they’d left off.

  “What’s so special about New Year’s in Rio?” Julia asked, flaking the fish off the bone.

  “Fucking everything.” Chris shook the ice in her glass. “Millions of people go to Copacabana beach and party until dawn. Fireworks, music, dancing, champagne on the beach—the works. If you can’t be there during Carnival, then that’s the time to do it.”

  “If you really want to go, we’ll go,” Jamie said, always accommodating.

  “No, we have to get to our flight in Santiago.” Chris sighed in a way that said she wasn’t quite as agreeable as the words made it seem. But Jamie ignored the dig.

  “What about you?” he asked Blake. “You still heading south?”

  Julia bit her lip, waiting to hear how Blake would respond. What exactly were his plans, anyway? She saw him glance over and she raised her eyebrows as if to say, How should I know what you’re doing?

  “That’s the idea,” Blake said with forced casualness, and even though Julia knew that was what he was going to say, it still dug into her somewhere deep inside.

  She could tell Chris was trying not to laugh. She’d already given him a hard time about not following through with his plans. For all that Chris didn’t seem to keep her mouth shut, at least she knew the few times when it was better to step back. Instead of teasing Blake, she asked Julia about her plans.

  Julia was surprised at the question. That she could do something hadn’t really occurred to her. At least not until she’d opened up the guidebook to the photo of the waterfalls and decided to take fate into her own hands.

  She’d thought she’d stay here for as long as her time with Blake allowed it, and then she’d turn around and head back to São Paulo. But the truth was, she wasn’t really thinking ahead. The past twenty-four hours had been such a blissful dream, it was hard to remember that in a few short days, she would have to wake up and fly back to Chicago, where her real life was lying in wait.

  “I don’t really have any plans,” she said slowly, eyeing Blake to see how he’d react. “I fly out of São Paulo really late on the first.”

  “Really late?” Chris said, slathering her plate of fish with a tangy green sauce. “That totally gives you enough time to do Rio and hop a bus between the cities for your flight.”

  Julia felt herself freeze. The way Chris said she could do Rio made it feel like the city was just something to cross off on a list. But wasn’t she right? Couldn’t Julia go there, if she chose? Couldn’t she go anywhere she wanted?

  “You can’t be down here and not see Rio,” Blake said. “Imagine you planned the trip that way all along. São Paulo to Iguaçu to Rio, then back for your flight. It’s not so crazy, right?”

  The way he said it did make it sound less wild than if she were hopping a last-minute bus with no plans. Chris might not have thought anything of making sudden changes, but Blake seemed to understand her hesitation. He was a planner, too, even if he disregarded it sometimes.

  But hanging out in Rio by herself? She didn’t want it to be another disappointment, like São Paulo had been. And she couldn’t go into this leg of the journey hoping to meet new people; she felt like she’d tapped out her karma on that point.

  And besides, she didn’t want to meet anyone else now that she’d met Blake.

  But maybe he was telling her something. Making new plans, creating an itinerary that would land her back in São Paulo in time for her flight… Could he actually be offering to—

  “You could see the Brazilian side of the falls tomorrow during the day and then take a bus back tomorrow night,” Blake said, interrupting her thoughts.

  It was so casual, it made so much sense, and yet Julia’s insides immediately clenched. Four days to spend together. They’d decided just that afternoon. And now with that little word you, he was shipping her off to Rio while he stuck with his plans to head south.

  “I don’t know,” Julia hedged, picking at a piece of fish and fighting the urge to scream. She wished everyone would stop looking at her. She knew this whole thing with Blake had an end date—an end date that was very, very soon. But nothing about their afternoon together had made her believe that end date was first thing tomorrow morning.

  She felt the heat rising to her face and even though she knew it was stupid—she was stupid—for the first time this whole trip she wished she were alone so that she could cry.

  “It’s exactly that kind of once-in-a-lifetime experience you only get out here,” Chris was saying, more to Jamie than to her, and as they described the city and swapped tales of what they’d heard about New Year’s Eve there, Julia put down her fork.

  “Okay, you’ve convinced me,” she declared before she could change her mind. “If there’s an overnight bus tomorrow, I’ll take it.”

  Jamie grinned and Chris raised her glass again. “To Julia!” she cried. “To taking life by the balls.”

  “You guys should be travel agents, you make it sound so good,” Julia said. “I’ll write you a postcard and let you know how it goes.”

  And then they were full of plans for her, where she should go and what she absolutely had to see. Except Blake,
who simply told her it was a good idea and then kept quiet for the rest of the night.

  Julia wouldn’t even let herself look over at him. She didn’t know what had changed from Mister I-want-to-be-with-you-for-the-time-that-we’re-here to this new, too cool, I’ve-got-plans-so-you-should-be-on-your-way attitude, but she didn’t care.

  He didn’t want to go to Rio with her?

  Well fuck him.

  At least she’d gotten her favorite underwear back.

  Chapter Nine

  Blake cut the cards and dealt another round. They couldn’t play Five Hundred with two players, so they’d switched to Ups and Downs, only they kept forgetting the rules.

  “No, man, we’re in ups now. It has to go up,” Jamie said, flicking Blake’s three of clubs back toward him.

  “I thought the last eight changed it to downs,” Blake said. It had been ages since he’d played Crazy Eights, especially with this variation, and he couldn’t keep track of what was up and what was down and when his turn was being skipped. Like now, when Jamie played queen after queen on top of his ten.

  Or maybe that was the cachaça talking. They’d stayed drinking caipirinhas until every last morsel of food was gone, and then Chris had produced a half empty bottle of Brazilian Old Eight Whisky. Brazilian whisky seemed like it should be a contradiction, but they claimed to import their malt directly from Scotland. It had a dank, woody taste like something left too long in the rain.

  More likely, Blake couldn’t tell what was up and what was down in the game because, as in his own life, the rules kept changing. Julia had headed straight to bed without giving him so much as a good-bye. Not that he deserved one. But still.

  He’d been amazed at how quickly she’d picked up his hint to go to Rio without him. He’d been afraid she might read too much into their situation and start assuming things from him, but he’d been wrong. If his disappearing act bothered her, the only evidence she showed was how quickly she’d frozen him out.

  That mask was so subtle, though, and the shift so minute that Blake doubted anyone else realized what was wrong.

  Or at least Jamie didn’t. It was one of the things that made it easy to trust him and their growing friendship. Unlike Liam, Jamie was way too oblivious to be conniving.

  “You think the girls are asleep in there?” Jamie asked, playing an eight and switching to downs again. Blake thought he was lucky with his three, but Jamie was ready with a two to beat him. He groaned and added four cards to his hand before coming up with one he could put down.

  “What, you think they’re up gabbing or something?” Blake tried to picture Julia and Chris staying up late and talking about him—or more likely tearing him apart. But it was unlikely. Julia proclaimed she was going to Rio by herself like she was fine with their twenty-four hour escapade coming to an abrupt close. She’d never admit otherwise.

  “Chris doesn’t gab,” Jamie said, playing his card. “She bellows.”

  “She likes to make sure she’s heard,” Blake agreed, but not unkindly. He thought of the two as complementing each other, the quieter Jamie supporting the more outgoing Chris as they hit the open road together. They had been scuba diving all over the Australian reefs, traveled by boat down the Amazon, climbed Mt. Fuji when they were still at university. Sure, now they worked in real estate and law in Australia. But they had put it all on hold to take a six-month trip around the world before they finally settled down and got married. Blake might have had his doubts about whether two people could date for ten years and still have a good time together, but here they were. Living proof.

  Once he might have imagined that his relationship with Kelley was like that. They’d made a point to get along well alone and in groups. Too late Blake saw the cracks in the façade. The way they spent time in a group so they didn’t have to be alone. The way the friends they hung out with captured Kelley’s attention to a degree he never could. The way, at the end of the day, there was really nothing left for them at all.

  But Jamie and Chris weren’t like that. They didn’t seem to tire of each other. Blake didn’t know if he’d ever trust anyone enough to be in a relationship again, but it helped knowing that togetherness was out there, even if it wasn’t his.

  It helped knowing, too, that there were friends who had his back, who wouldn’t let women come between them.

  “Hey, how did you and Chris meet?” Blake asked, frowning over his cards.

  Jamie laughed. “I woke up in her bed—”

  “Well that was easy.”

  “—with my trousers on.”

  “Wait—what?”

  Jamie shrugged. “I think we’d been at some party. My memory’s a little fuzzy on the details, but I definitely remember talking to some mate of hers.”

  “But you went home with Chris instead?”

  Jamie gave him a helpless look. “What can I say? I wake up in a stranger’s bed, ready to congratulate myself for a job well done, when I realize my clothes are on, her clothes are on, and I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

  “So then you got together?” Blake was thoroughly confused.

  “So then she said that if we didn’t get to enjoy our night, we might as well have brunch and try again.”

  “Sounds like true love.”

  “It took a little while.” Jamie grinned. “I kept calling her—you know, keeping it casual. Asking if she wanted to pile on all our clothes and lie side by side for the night. That sort of thing. Eventually I wore her down.”

  “Something tells me this would be a more interesting story from Chris’s perspective,” Blake mused.

  “She said she wasn’t sure about me at the beginning,” Jamie admitted.

  Blake raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

  “I had holes in my socks. She called it unbecoming, but said she decided to take the risk anyway.”

  “The risk?”

  “You know, in going out with me. Calling me. Seeing me again. It’s always a chance.”

  “Well, either it works out or it doesn’t,” Blake said, and then wondered if all his months on the road were reducing him to such a pile of platitudes that he’d never be able to write a decent script again.

  “The only thing you can do is try.” Jamie raised his glass and swallowed the whisky down, making a face. “Or maybe it’s better to stick with what you’re good at, like making cachaça instead of whisky. Yikes.”

  Blake laughed, shuddering as the alcohol burned down his throat. Jamie made it sound so easy, but it wasn’t. Jamie and Chris were the kind of people who took risks. Blake wasn’t. It was as simple as that. He’d planned out his whole trip and now he was sticking to it. No more distractions. No more deviations. Argentina was calling to him.

  “Rio’s a great city,” Jamie said after a pause. “Julia’s going to have a great time.”

  “Sure,” Blake said. He tried to keep his face impassive as he picked up cards from the deck. Jamie was creaming him and now Blake didn’t have a single diamond to play. “So’s Buenos Aires,” he added.

  “You’re sure there isn’t anything you’ll miss in Argentina?”

  “Not pretty girls, I can promise you that.” Blake flashed a grin.

  “I was thinking more about one girl in particular.”

  Jamie threw down his last card: six of diamonds. Damn. Blake should have changed suits when he could. He swept up the pile of cards to shuffle.

  “I’ve got other plans.”

  “What, get drunk by yourself in Patagonia? You’ve got no plans.”

  “Travel by myself, then go back to Sydney. Emphasis on the by myself, you know?”

  Silently Jamie pulled on a strand of his beard.

  “C’mon,” Blake said. “What does it matter if I say good-bye to her now versus saying good-bye to her on Saturday? It’s better to stick with the schedule I have. Besides, you heard her—it’s not like she even minds.”

  “If you say so,” Jamie said. “You deal this round.”

  Blake cut the card
s, listening to the cicadas in the darkness. The table was lit by the glow from the pool and the pale lamps overhead. Some part of him knew what Chris meant. It was hard not to want to live like this forever.

  He knew, too, that he was lying when he told Jamie everything was fine. Julia’s face had closed like a screen door when he told her to have a nice trip. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t thinking something entirely different underneath. Something undoubtedly not very good about him.

  It didn’t matter, though. They were done. And it wasn’t like she’d given any sign that she wanted him to stay with her. She could have said something, too.

  Blake sighed. “We’re not all so lucky to have someone who wants to—what was that crazy thing you guys did? Bungee jumping in Panama?”

  “Chris was cheering the whole way down. I almost shit my pants. But you find someone you can nearly die with, you hold onto her.” Jamie wagged a finger at him.

  “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Sometimes I think Chris wishes she were, I don’t know, with some extreme sport maniac daredevil. Someone a little more—”

  “Daring?”

  “I was going to say crazy, but sure, daring works. A children’s advocacy lawyer doesn’t exactly scream stud.”

  “I thought women loved men who care for kids.”

  “You try telling Chris that.” He rolled his eyes as he rifled through his cards, arranging his hand.

  Blake set the deck between them and flipped over the top card. “Your move,” he said. “I thought this was the big hurrah before Chris makes an honest man out of you and starts hopping on the baby train.”

  Jamie picked up a card, played it, and groaned when Blake slapped down another heart. He started picking from the deck, looking for a card he could play. “That was the idea. But you heard the woman. Who wants to settle down when you can—what did she say? Open up a beach resort along the Brazilian coast?”

  “Yeah, with Lukas as your concierge.” They both laughed. It was hard to imagine the Dutch photographer taking directions from anyone, let alone snippy guests in an inn.

  “Talk about risky,” Jamie said. “You never know who she might run off with. And then—” he caught himself in time. “I’m sorry, man, I didn’t mean it like that.”