Close To Falling

by Paige P. Horne

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “Some things you just keep to yourself.” I nod and look at the ground. We sit in silence for a while. It’s comfortable, it’s River, and it’s home.

  ***

  We’re all back in the waiting room drinking coffee and staring at the walls when the doctor finally walks in. I stand, and so does everyone else.

  “How is he?” I ask, wide-eyed. The doctor looks among all of us. Tiny wrinkles form on the outside of his eyes as he narrows them. I know what’s coming.

  “We did everything we could. His heart was just too damaged.”

  Landon lets out a sob, and River punches the wall before he snatches the door open and walks out. Sarah grabs Landon, making him sit while I stand motionless. It’s funny how life can change so quickly. One minute I’m having a glass of wine on my patio, the next I’m in a waiting room, devastated.

  “I’m so sorry,” the doctor tells us. “I’ll give you all some space.” He walks away, and I stare at the door as it closes behind him. Hearing Landon cry is foreign to me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before. I look over at my brother and sister.

  “Sarah, can you—?”

  “I’ve got it, B. Go home,” she says. I nod and turn to leave.

  “Maddie,” Landon calls after me, and I turn back around. He stands and walks over to me. Wrapping me in a hug, he whispers into my ear, “Go check on River and don’t fall down.” He kisses my cheek, and I walk out.

  ***

  Big drops of rain are falling outside now, and thunder bombs somewhere in the distance. I walk to my car, not caring that I’m getting soaked. I open the door and sit down. Silence surrounds me when I shut the door, and I’m completely alone.

  “Thanks for the honey.”

  “Who are you calling an old man?”

  “There’s a lot of things we shouldn’t do, isn’t there?”

  “Nothing’s worse than a bad handshake. You three remember that. Hold someone’s hand firmly like you mean it.”

  “Be careful.”

  Frankie’s words flow through my memories, and finally a tear falls. I choke as the fucking damn breaks. The rain comes down harder, giving me complete privacy as I sob uncontrollably.

  “Don’t fall down.”

  “Don’t fall down,” I mumble to myself. I grip the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white and my vision blurry. Frankie will forever be inside my heart and so will white T-shirts, honey, and beer. I crank my car, turn my windshield wipers on, and drive away.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Nothing has changed. The house still looks the same. I sit in my car staring at the old house of childhood memories. I’ve been parked here for several minutes just looking. So many things happened in this house. So many things, and now Frankie is gone. Tears fall down my cheeks, and I cover my mouth as more sobs come out. I open my car door and walk to the front porch. These steps are where I sat popping bubblegum bubbles, ate cold watermelon, and watched the boys play baseball. I fought with River sitting right here and chased him across these wooden boards. When I gave up on everything, I walked out that door.

  Inhaling a shaky breath, I put my hand on the railing and make my way up the steps. Taking my keys out of my pocket, I unlock the door and walk inside. Again, nothing has changed. I walk through the living room and head to the stairs. I walk down the hallway, passing Landon’s old room, and take a peek inside at his twin bed and old surf posters on the walls. I continue until I stand in front of my old room. Pushing the door open, I see my bed along with my dresser and old photos of lifetime ago memories. Pictures of Cali and me with Kool-Aid smiles and high ponytails. Some of them are wrinkled from when I ripped them off once before, but they’re still clearly visible.

  My eyes go around the room, and I walk over to my dresser. I open the small drawer I kept everything in and see the note Frankie wrote me for graduation. I smile as I open it, reading his words from so long ago. “I’ll always be here.” I put the note to my lips and close my eyes. Taking a deep breath before I put it down, I look at more old pictures and special keepsakes. I never came back for any of this. I don’t really know why. Maybe it was too painful, maybe everything in this place reminds me too much of the girl I used to be. Hell, still am. I've only changed on the outside. On the inside, I'm still running from anything that can hurt me.

  My hand lands on something, and I move some old notes to the side. A tiny pill comes into view, and I pick it up and hold it in between my index finger and thumb. My heart starts to pick up beats, and I can feel my pulse throbbing against the skin on my neck. I keep the pill in my hand and sit down on my bed. My fingers spread open, and I see the pill sitting on my palm. Tears flow freely, and without any thought I toss it back. I lie down on my bed and stare at the old glow in the dark stars Cali and I put up. They shine bright, and I smile when the old time feeling of chillness climbs up my body, slowly like a dark fog rolling up over the hills. It starts at my toes and spreads through my feet. Crawling up my legs, it continues covering me with calmness. Sometime later, I fall asleep.

  ***

  I wake up when I hear someone downstairs. Blinking my eyes a few times, I realize where I am and straighten my thrown up hair. Sitting up, I put my feet on the floor and rub my face. I stare up at the ceiling, and my fingers grab the covers. Hard times. Hard times make you want to go back to old habits. That one pill made me feel numb and better, but even I know you can’t stop feeling—you do that and you stop living. But you give an addict one hit of their poison, and it's like a snowball rolling fast down a hill. I run my hands across my thighs and exhale before I stand up and make my way down the stairs. I see Landon sitting on the couch.

  “Hey, B,” he says when he sees me.

  “Hey,” I reply, tired. I walk over to him and sit down in Frankie’s chair. It smells like him, and I put my feet up.

  “Doesn’t seem real, does it?” Landon asks.

  “No, brother, it doesn’t.”

  We sit in silence staring at a black TV screen. Time passes, and it’s probably well after midnight, but we don’t speak and that’s okay. A car pulls up, and we look over at each other.

  “River?” we both say at the same time. It would be funny, but this isn’t a laughing matter. The fact that all three of us needed to come home is sad because we didn’t come home when Frankie was here. We were all too busy with our own lives to visit the man who made us a family, and that thought makes my chest hurt and my eyes fill with tears.

  The door opens, and in walks love. He looks between us before he shuts the door and walks over to the loveseat. Lying down, he crosses his ankles and rests his head on a throw pillow I bought years ago to give the room some color. White noise is the only sound in the room until Landon seems to have enough of it and turns the TV on. The Andy Griffith Show is on, and it makes me smile because that was Frankie’s favorite. We all sit together, like we used to, and watch Barney drive Andy crazy. It’s old, clean, and funny. It’s Frankie, and I feel like he is here with us.

  ***

  The sound of the TV wakes me, and I squint my eyes as warm sunlight shines through the open blinds. I’m laid back in the recliner with a blanket over me. Landon sleeps on the couch, and the loveseat is empty. I quietly sit up and close the chair without bothering Landon. I pull my hair tie out of my hair and redo it. Releasing a small sigh, I get up and walk to the kitchen in search of coffee. As I set up the coffeemaker, I notice that the front door is cracked open, so I go check it out. Opening the door, I spot morning dew on the porch and River sitting on the steps.

  “Hey,” I say.

  He looks back at me. “Hey, B.”

  “What are you doing?” I move from the door and sit down beside him.

  “Just thinking,” he says.

  “Wanna talk about it?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. Well, I’m here if you do.”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean why?”


  “I mean, why the fuck do you care, B?”

  “River, that’s a stupid question.”

  “Oh, is it? I’m sorry I didn’t realize.”

  “Where is this attitude coming from?”

  “It’s just one minute you’re all buddy-buddy with me, like we’re best fucking friends, and the next, things get too hard and you have to go. You gonna go now? Because I’d say this was up there with hard.”

  “Fuck you,” I say, standing. “You have no right to act this way toward me.”

  “Seriously?” he says. I run a frustrated hand over my face. “I was in prison for six years, Maddie. Six years of worrying about you. Six years of fighting and having to watch my back every minute. The Brothers had enemies, and because I was the president’s son, I was a target. You asked me what I did in there. I fought to stay alive so I could get out of that place and get right for us. I walked away from men who had my back so I could be clean when I came back for you. I did all of that, and you were out here what? Fucking casually dating?”

  “Oh, I’m supposed to stop living my life because of your choices?”

  “I made those choices to make a better life for us, B.”

  “Bullshit. You did that for yourself. You wanted to feel like a macho man. You had to have money, even though I had enough to get us by. You let your pride ruin us.”

  “Maybe so, B. Maybe I did, but at least I’m not a coward and I can admit that I still love you and want this.”

  “All we do is fight. I’m so sick of fighting,” I say.

  He laughs once. “You’re damn right. We fight, and I’d rather fight with you than get along with any other woman. Our relationship has never been boring, B. Why start now?” He stands.

  “Our relationship is toxic.”

  “Oh, bullshit. You’re in denial, Maddie B.”

  “Where are you going?” I ask because I see his keys in his hand.

  “What? You don’t recognize this?” he asks with a faint sarcastic smile on his face. “This isn’t what you do?” I stare at him, stoned-faced. He shakes his head. “I’m walking away.” And I watch him as he does. He hops into his truck and leaves. I wipe a stray tear away and close my eyes. Hardly anything in this life is easy, but the most complicated thing on this planet is love. Fucking love.

  ***

  I walk back inside. Landon is up.

  “River leave?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I say as I walk over to the coffeemaker.

  “Want some?”

  “Please,” he says.

  I fix us both a cup and place his beside him. My mind is racing, and I grip the counter. Taking a sip of my coffee, I think about my upstairs bedroom and that drawer. One pill I had up there. Just one? I think to myself. Trying to recall my old hiding spots, I remember the floorboard by the closet. My eyes look over to Landon and the kitchen table. It’s full of memories, too, and I hate everything. I want to run until I can’t anymore. I want to run away from all the hurt, pain, and fucking madness that’s festering inside me. I could pull my damn hair out. That man makes me madder than anything on this planet.

  “You okay?” my brother asks.

  “No,” I reply, taking another sip of my coffee. “No, brother, I’m not. I’ll be right back.” I set my cup down. “I have to use the restroom.” He nods, and I run up the stairs. I walk into my room and go over to the floor by the closet. There’s a small hole in the wood, and I get on my knees before I hook my finger in it and pull the board up. A dusty clear bag comes into view, holding six or so pills. I stare down at the baggie and swallow. Sitting back on my ass, I look up at the ceiling and take a deep breath. What am I doing? What the fuck am I doing?

  “B, your phone is ringing!” Landon yells up to me.

  “Coming,” I say as I scoop the bag up and put the board back. Sliding the baggie into my pocket, I walk out and shut the door behind me.

  ***

  I grab my coffee and sit down beside Landon after I get off my phone. “That was the hospital. We have to make arrangements,” I say with a heavy exhale before I take a sip of my coffee. He nods and reaches for my hand, squeezing it before he lets go and taking a drink of his coffee.

  “You know I came from shit, B,” he says after a moment and grabs my attention. “I’ve told you and River stories about life before Frankie, before the two of you. My mom never had time for me. Her number one priority was getting her next fix. I remember wishing something would happen, something just bad enough to scare her and make her want to be better and change, because obviously I wasn’t a good enough reason. She overdosed, and that still didn’t change anything. I never felt wanted around her. I never felt wanted until I came here. River was already here. We were just ten years old at the time. He was always getting into trouble at Frankie’s and everywhere else. I was too scared to do anything wrong because I didn’t want to be taken to a different home, but River had this fuck everything attitude. Hard shell on the outside, but I saw Frankie tear his walls down. I saw it happen.

  “One night, River went crazy and threw a fit, breaking everything in his room. Frankie walked in there and slammed the door shut behind him. I thought River was going to get beaten because I didn’t know any different. My mom’s boyfriends hit me sometimes, so I thought it was normal. The door didn’t click shut when he slammed it. It sort of bounced back open a tad, and I peeked through the crack. River was fighting Frankie, but Frankie grabbed his arms and took him down to the floor. He was telling him something, and River was crying hysterically.

  “Later, I found out it was because his father got sentenced to thirty years hard time. In River’s mind, he was going back home. Pops wasn’t going to get charged with whatever he did, and they would be back together, but that wasn’t the case. I don’t know how their relationship was before Pops went off to prison. I don’t believe it was all warm and cozy, though, but that’s all River knew, regardless of how Pops treated him.

  “River hardly spoke to any of us for a long while after that, and then you came along,” he says, giving me a half-smile. “He changed. I think he has always loved you, and I regret how I acted all those years ago when you told me about the two of you.”

  “You were concerned for me, Landon. Don’t regret that,” I say.

  “Yeah.” He stares at a spot on the wall. “I guess my point is, don’t shut River out. He loves you more than his own life, I think. That kind of love is rare and shouldn’t be taken lightly. I know you love him, too, B, so stop wasting all this time. Be with each other. Don’t let our family die with Frankie.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The days pass us by. We cremated Frankie and spread his ashes in the blue waters of Crystal Bay. The leaves outside change colors, and time presses forward. I walk a lot and pass by River’s shop all the time, but I don’t go in. We haven't spoken since the ceremony and the packing of Frankie’s house.

  ***

  Dust particles from years of neglect fly in the air as the boys carry the last bit of things out of Frankie’s. Once they disappear, I slide a pill into my mouth and swallow. I climb the steps and look around at the empty rooms. Sighing, I lean against the wall. I must have zoned out because I jump when I hear my name being called.

  “What are you doing, B?” River asks.

  “Nothing,” I respond. He gives me an odd look, but I ignore it and walk into my old room, making sure I didn’t forget anything.

  “You seem off. Everything okay?” He looks at me curiously.

  “Everything’s fine,” I lie. “Stop looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Nothing. Never mind,” I say, looking at the floor.

  After a minute, I ask, “Everything loaded?”

  He nods and slides his hands into his pockets. Rocking back on his heels, he bites his lip before he speaks. “You know, we’d get it if you were having a tough time with all of this. I mean, it would be understandable if you wanted to use again.”

  “You
think that’s what I want?” I narrow my eyes. My heart would be pounding, but the chemicals keep it calm.

  “I’m just saying, B. This is hard.”

  “Oh, so now you’re understanding?” I say.

  “I’m not accusing you of anything. Chill.”

  “Whatever. I’ve been clean for over nine years, River. I’m not thinking of going back,” I lie again and dart my eyes toward the hallway before looking back.

  “Good,” he says.

  “Good,” I repeat.

  ***

  I finished yet another round of art, and the event goes smoothly. My habit is back in full form, and I need to find a dealer. I’m headed out with a guy I met a few weeks ago at a local bar. He isn’t the best looking, but I’m only going because I heard a guy was selling at the club we are going to. The place is crowded, and the guy I’m with is clingy. I search around for anyone making sneaky exchanges, and luck finds me as I spot him sitting at the far end of the bar, slipping something out of his pocket and into someone else’s hand. Jackpot.