Free Falling

by Makenzie Smith

  I didn’t need to talk about what had happened or cry it out. I’d done all that already. I was over it. I was tired of feeling low and weak. But she looked so hopeful. She wanted to be the one to “save me.”

  “This could be fun,” I told her, trying to believe it. “Dad doesn’t mind that you’re here?”

  “Please,” she said, waving away the question. “He’s off fishing. Couldn’t give two hoots if I’m home or not.”

  Our lunch was pleasant. She didn’t bring up Wally. She didn’t mention my recent moodiness at all, and by the time she left, I felt better. Maybe she was right. Maybe girl time would be good for me. For the rest of the day, my demeanor was brighter. I was more engaging with my coworkers, smiling and laughing more. Sheila noticed.

  “You seem better,” she said, after dropping some forms off in my office. I hated that she felt the need to say anything at all. My love life wasn’t anyone’s business and it bothered me that people might be gossiping about it.

  “Uh, I am,” I said. “I’m fine.” I didn’t look at her, hoping that she’d leave. She didn’t take the hint.

  “That’s great,” she said. “You know, I didn’t want to mention it before, but Wally and I have a history. Sort of.”

  That got my attention. She was smiling bashfully, waiting to see if I wanted her to elaborate. I sat down at my desk. “You do?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she said, sitting in an extra chair. “It was a while ago, before you met him. I think at least.”

  I think at least. That was such a heartless thing to say. “Did you date?”

  “Oh, nothing like that,” she laughed. “It was sometime last summer. I’d just started going to Burns, and that’s like ‘his place.’ Every once in a while I’d see him there. I liked him. I mean, you know him. He’s a pretty likeable guy.”

  He was.

  “Anyway, he noticed me I guess and started flirting and asking to hang out with me. We went out a few times, did some stuff, but that was it. One day he just stopped calling me. After I kept seeing him up there, I realized I was glad it hadn’t worked out.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked, squirming in my seat. This conversation was making me uncomfortable.

  She pursed her lips, almost as if she was scolding me for being so naïve. “You have to know what he was like. Or is like, I should say. The guy can’t stay still long enough to have anything serious with anyone. He’s always bouncing from one girl to another girl to another girl. He’s fun, but that’s it.” She must have noticed my unease, because she added, “I mean, he seemed different with you. Really, he did. But this is probably a good thing.”

  I cleared my throat. “Have you, uh, seen him lately?”

  “At Burns?” she asked. I nodded. “Well, yeah. He was there last night.”

  “How did he, uh…was he…did he seem…” I couldn’t get the questions I wanted to ask out. Not only because I didn’t want him or anyone to know that I cared, but because Sheila seemed like the type to mention it the next time she saw him. Kristen is taking this so hard. You should be ashamed of yourself, Wally followed by a flirtatious laugh, like it was some joke that I’d believed in us.

  “He’s fine, Kristen,” she said. I hated the sympathetic eyes she was giving me, like she was trying to give me the hard truth, the truth I didn’t want to hear, but needed to. “Really. He’s good.”

  “Well, good then,” I said and stood, putting on a false smile. “I’m glad he is. C’mon. I’ve got to finish clearing out the kennels.”

  My mother’s weekend trip was perfect. She successfully took my mind off all things Wally. She brought me to dinner and we watched bad movies. We laughed. We joked. She showed me videos of my niece and nephew. It was wonderful.

  The late summer sun was falling in the sky and we were sitting on my back porch, sipping iced, sweet tea. She was leaving the following afternoon, and I’d miss her. I was lucky to have her. She could have been doing any number of things this weekend, but she chose to drop everything and do her best to make me feel less sad.

  And it had worked.

  We were silent, listening to the birds and crickets chirping. For the first time in weeks, I felt peaceful.

  “You know,” she said. “I think it’s a good thing that it didn’t work out with Wally.”

  I stiffened but didn’t respond. I knew it was too good to be true. Eventually, she would have to bring him up.

  “Not that I didn’t like him,” she continued. “I did. But—”

  “Can we talk about something else?” I asked.

  “I’m just trying to give you a different perspective, punkin,” she said sweetly. “Wally was nice. He was charming and he certainly cared for you, but what future did you expect to have with him?”

  “Mom, please. I don’t want to do this right now.”

  She ignored me. “I spoke to Trey’s mother about him,” she said and I shot up.

  “What? Why would you do that?” Then I realized that I’d never even told her about his connection to Trey. “Wait. How did you even know they were related?”

  “She called me,” she said. “About a month ago.”

  Wally’s family were such shits. That had been right around the time Trey found out about Wally and me. He’d called his mother and complained, and then she’d called my mother. A bunch of gossiping busybodies.

  “Whatever she said to you was none of her business,” I bit out.

  “You’re right,” my mother said. “Still. Wally doesn’t sound like he’s doing much with his life, sweetie. He’s basically impoverished. Has a beat up car. Can’t even afford—”

  “Stop,” I said, feeling defensive for him. “He’s NOT impoverished. And so what if his car is crappy. Why does everyone place this high value on excess and materialism? Wally does fine. He might not be rolling in money like her precious Trey, but he’s more than happy. Happier than her stupid son, I can promise you.”

  My mother’s smile was sad. “Oh, punkin,” she said. “You’re really in for it.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, all tense and edgy.

  She sighed and took a sip of her tea. “You’ve still got the spark,” she said. “Eaten up with it. Didn’t know if it’d ever happen with you. Doesn’t matter that it hasn’t worked out. I’m glad you found someone who made you feel that way. Even for just a little while. There’ll be others, baby. Someone else will come along that will make you feel this way again. Don’t you worry.”

  No, they won’t. I thought, tears stinging my eyes. But I took a breath and composed myself.

  “Who cares if there is?” I said. “Seems like it sucks ass anyway.”

  My mother laughed. “Sometimes,” she said.

  For the first time over the entire weekend, I let myself fall into thoughts of Wally. What was he doing? Was he sad? Happy? Did he miss me? Thinking of him hurt.

  I kept imagining his goofy grin smiling over at me, and then saying, “Girl, you eaten up with it.”

  I was. I so was.

  No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t understand why Wally had done what he did. Broke it off with me, slept with Nicole and who knows how many other people by now.

  My mother finished her tea and went inside to get a refill. When the door closed behind her, I let out a heart wrenching sob, a few tears falling from my eyes. Quickly, I wiped them away and took a calming breath. Stop it, I told myself. Stop this right now. He’s not sitting at home crying over you. Get. Over. It. After another deep breath, I’d gained my composure.

  But it hadn’t mattered. My mother sat down and immediately knew that I’d been crying. “Oh honey,” she said. She tried to hug me, but I waved her off, afraid that it would only bring more tears. She sighed, sitting back in the chair. “I sure wish I knew what that boy was thinking,” she said to the trees.

  Me too.

  Chapter 32

  Wally

  Burns was dead. Only about ten people were hanging around the bar and it was fucking depressing. Like
I needed something to make me feel more depressed. Lucas, Charles, and Ian had all left, busy with their own lives. All of them were happy, in successful, fulfilling relationships, going home to their wives or girlfriends. And where was I?

  Sitting at a bar with a bunch of old drunks, sipping on a beer that I didn’t even want.

  You could call her, jackass, I thought, but immediately tossed that thought away. No. I really couldn’t.

  The best thing for her was to stay as far away from me as possible. Even if everything Trey had told me was a lie, which it probably was, she deserved better than me.

  Trey.

  Thinking of him brought on painful images and flashes. He hadn’t held back when we talked last. I fuck her good, man, he’d said. You think she’s gonna stay with you when she’s got me? You’re a fucking toy to her. Step aside and let a real man come in.

  I should have punched him. I should hunt him down and punch him now. Didn’t matter that it was weeks ago. The ass deserved it.

  Had she been with him as Trey said?

  I pressed the heels of my palms to my eyes and rubbed. Thinking of him touching her made me sick.

  But for the millionth time I reminded myself that it wasn’t her style. She hadn’t cheated on me. She’d been honest. And she loved me. I saw it in her eyes. She honest to God loved me. Or thought she did.

  Trey hadn’t been what ended us. I was. And it was for the best.

  If we stayed together all I’d do is screw it up. I was barely scraping by on my own. What could I give her? A house?

  Fucking no. What would the end game be between us?

  She hadn’t been with me long enough to see how irresponsible and careless I was. I was selfish. I bored easily. I’d been doing fine on my own for years. The pressure of making her happy, providing for her, it would’ve got me all jacked up and I would have done something stupid.

  Maybe I already have. Sleeping with Nicole had been one of the dumbest things I’d done in a while. It hadn’t even been good. All I could think of was Kristen through the whole thing. Being with Nicole hadn’t taken the longing for her away as I’d hoped it would. When I saw her standing in my bedroom door, I knew that I hadn’t wanted it to. God, I’d been dumb. A stupid ass thinking with his dick. Even though being with Nicole helped me see how bad I wanted Kristen back, her finding us showed me that all my fears were warranted. I hurt her. So bad. I’d only continue to.

  I sighed and drank a sip of my warm ass beer. Whatever. We were done. Over. It didn’t matter that she was all I could fucking think about. That I missed her. That I wanted her to look at me with those beautiful, dark eyes.

  God, those eyes.

  When Kristen looked at me, I felt like a king.

  I pulled out my phone and found her number.

  She’ll take me back, I thought. If I tell her that I’m sorry, all of that sweet love and beauty can be mine again.

  But I hesitated.

  What was she doing now? Had she moved on? I hadn’t heard a thing about her. She could be seeing someone else, or fucking married for all I knew.

  I grunted with frustration, making a few people turn to look at me. I’m sure I looked crazy as hell.

  No girl had ever messed me up this good. I couldn’t think of a single one that I wanted the way I wanted her.

  The front door of the bar opened, and I heard girly laughter float across the room. A quick look told me that it was a few regulars. Well, they’d be disappointed, wasn’t anyone but low lives and love sick fools here tonight.

  I looked at my beer and saw that I was nearly finished. For half a second I contemplated driving by her house, just to see if she was home, but the idea felt so creepy and juvenile that I shut it down.

  I’d decided to let her go, and I needed to. My reasons were good ones. She was beautiful. Strong. Loving. So fucking kind and gentle. A woman like that deserved a man who could give her everything. Not me. The care and devotion I had for her would become less meaningful as time went on.

  “Hey, you.”

  Someone sat next to me and I looked over. “Hey, Sheila,” I said.

  “Kinda dead isn’t it?” She was smiling at me, flashing what she thought were sexy eyes. But to me all I thought was, those aren’t the eyes I want to look at me.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’m about to head out.” I took a long swig of my beer and started to stand.

  “No, wait,” she said, but I wasn’t in the mood. When she realized I wasn’t going to stay, she said, “I talked to Kristen a few days ago.”

  I stilled and then sat back down. “Where?”

  She chuckled. “You’re so oblivious.” Her body leaned towards me, her hand came out on the bar, inching closer to my arm. “We work together.”

  “You do?” Well, shit. That was news to me.

  “Yes. We were at that adoption day together. Didn’t you see me?”

  I hardly saw anyone that day. Even though people had been everywhere, all I could remember was Kristen, her long, dark hair flowing behind her as she walked around the yard. That was the last good weekend we’d had. She’d said something or I’d said something and it was all downhill from there. All of the fears I’d tried to bury had finally surfaced and I couldn’t keep up.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Must have missed you.”

  “It’s okay,” she grinned. “We were busy.”

  I couldn’t look at her for long. She and I went out once or twice and I could tell she was hoping for a repeat. Well, it hadn’t been that good the first time. Why would I want to again? But I couldn’t help myself from asking, “How is she?”

  “Kristen?” She laughed. “God, she’s fine. I don’t think she’s mentioned your break up at all.”

  Awesome. So she was fine and I was a fucking mess drinking alone at a bar.

  Well, that’s what I wanted I guess, for her to move on and live her life without me. Didn’t mean that it didn’t sting like shit hearing it.

  “Listen,” Sheila said, “We’re about to go to another bar. Wanna come?”

  “Why the fuck not?” I said, slapping some money on the bar. If she was over it then I needed to be too.

  We jumped from bar to bar, getting more and more drunk as the night went on. I danced with Sheila and her friends. I laughed with strangers. For a few blessed hours, Kristen and all the wrong I’d done her were the furthest thing from my mind.

  Sheila’s friend was taking me home and it was about time. I was swaying. My words were slurring. I’d feel this tomorrow, but tonight I felt numb. Even if it was only for a night, I was grateful for it.

  “We’re here,” Sheila said, and I stumbled out of the car. She was holding my arm, trying to support me as I searched for my keys.

  The car pulled away and I looked down at her. “Your friends left you,” I said.

  She chuckled. “Uh…this is my house, Wally. You said you wanted to come here.”

  Had I? When? Whatever. I’d get someone to pick me up in the morning.

  As soon as we walked through the door, I kicked off my shoes and fell onto the couch. I grabbed a throw pillow and a blanket from the floor and nestled in.

  For a few minutes, I heard Sheila walking around, turning on water and opening doors, but then I was out.

  “Wally,” I heard her whisper. “Wally, wake up.”

  I mumbled a few curses and managed to open my eyes. Sheila was sitting on top of me, butt ass naked.

  “Uh, what are you doing?” I said.

  “Shh,” she said. “I think we both need this.”

  I was still too drunk to form clear thoughts, and kept mumbling for her to get off.

  “Here,” she said, and placed my palm over her breast.

  I took an inhale. “Not tonight, Sheila,” I said. “I’m too drunk.”

  “Doesn’t feel like it,” she said, grinding on me. “Don’t worry. I’ll do all the work.”

  “What about Kristen?”

  “She’s not here.” Sheila pulled my pants down and wa
s on me faster than I could have imagined.

  My hands tensed on her tiny waist and I groaned. Sex was sex, and despite my reluctance, it felt good. While she moved, I tried to get into it, but her shape was all wrong. Her noises too practiced, unnatural. Her hair didn’t fall over her shoulders the right way.

  When she whined extra-long, all nasally and strained, I deflated.

  “Stop,” I said.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I said, get up.”

  She ceases her movement and started making whines of protest.

  I pushed her off me and stood from the couch.

  “I told you that I wasn’t feeling it.”

  She threw her hands angrily on the couch. “What’s the big deal? It’s just sex.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t wanna have sex with you,” I said.

  She made a sound of disgust. Like she had any reason to feel disgusted.

  Without another word, I walked out of the house and down the street to call a cab, but my fingers hovered over the last number I’d pulled up on my phone. Kristen’s.

  What would I say if she answered? What if someone else answered? It didn’t matter. I wanted to talk to her. I was still drunk enough not to care. But if she didn’t pick up, I didn’t want her to know that I’d called. I was too proud. Like a loser I dialed it privately and waited with bated breath.

  It rang. And rang. And rang. I let out a disappointed sigh as her voicemail picked up.

  “This is Kristen, leave a message,” her deep, sultry voice told me.

  I hung up and looked down at the pavement.

  Here I was, standing on the sidewalk like a creep, drunk as hell, all my clothes messed up, calling my ex-girl. This was bad. I’d made my choice and I needed to move on. I needed to stick to it. Getting over her wouldn’t be easy, but I could do it.

  I looked back to Sheila’s house.

  Whatever, I thought. Do what you gotta do to get her out of your system.

  I knocked on Sheila’s door. When she answered I went straight to her kitchen, took a bottle of whiskey from her cabinet and walked to her bedroom.