What it Takes to Fall

by Ellis, C. R.

  “El, honey, we’d never give you the inn in its current shape and expect you to fix it up. Those trust funds are our way of ensuring you girls are taken care of. That money is for you, for your future. We’ve talked about this,” she finished, patting my hand and giving me the same gentle smile she’d given me every day since the day we met.

  I sighed, knowing this was a losing battle. Sophia offered me a sympathetic shrug that told me we were on the same page, but that she also knew arguing was futile.

  “I just have to know; did you two get tricked into smoking some grade-A pot in Bora Bora?” Sophia asked, eyeing our grandparents as if they’d turned into strangers before her eyes.

  I laughed at her comment, but it didn't seem that farfetched considering the abrupt changes in our grandparents.

  Retirement. Selling Serenity. Giving us Let Love Inn.

  All in one fell swoop.

  And to think, just a week ago the craziest thing about my life was the drama caused by the revolving door of Milo’s model friends traipsing in and out of our apartment.

  Nana laughed and tucked a chunk of her light blonde hair behind her ear. “Girls, we realize this is a lot for y’all to take in at once. Like I said, you don’t have to make a decision right away. There’s no rush. We just want you to know the option is available to you.”

  A lot to take in.

  Biggest understatement ever.

  Also, the freaking theme of my life these days.

  I ate dinner without paying much attention to any of the food going into my mouth. Or the words coming out of it. Somehow, Nana had managed to shift the conversation to safer topics, like Sophia’s classes and my upcoming weddings.

  It wasn’t until the bill was paid and Pops was ushering us out of the restaurant that he dropped the final bomb of the night.

  “Oh, there’s one more thing, girls,” he said, slinging an arm around Nana’s shoulders. “The consultation for the renovations is the day after tomorrow. It would be great if you both could make it.”

  “Whoa. You’ve already hired someone? Who?” Sophia asked.

  I knew who. I held my breath, waiting for my suspicion to be confirmed.

  When it was, I realized how wrong I’d been to assume my life couldn’t get any crazier.

  * * *

  On the drive back to my apartment, I decided to table the whole Nana and Pops retiring situation and focus my efforts on fixing things with Sophia. She had an equal say about the decision with the inn, and figuring out what to do with the place wasn’t going to happen until I was firmly back in her good graces.

  One thing at a time.

  After promising Milo that he had no reason to worry about leaving the two of us alone when he left for work, I pulled out a bottle of rosé and poured generous servings into two stemless wine glasses.

  “Knock knock,” I called, tapping my foot against Sophia’s door. “Can we talk? About last weekend?”

  The door slowly opened, and Sophia’s annoyance eased up once she saw my peace offering. “Okay. But you should probably go get the bottle if we’re having this conversation.”

  I arched a brow, but wasn’t going to question her. A few seconds later, I reentered her bedroom with the bottle and took a seat on the opposite side of the bed from her.

  I waited until Sophia had downed half of her glass before summoning the nerve to broach the subject. “So…the only thing I remember about our conversation is that it was Helen-related.”

  When it came to our mother, we’d never found a way to have productive conversations. Mostly because I preferred to avoid the topic altogether. I was one day shy of turning five when Helen brought us to live with Nana and Pops—old enough that some memories of our life with her had stuck with me. Haunted me. Sometimes I selfishly wished Sophia shared my memories just so I’d have someone who understood. But most days I was grateful she was too young to remember seeing all the random men coming and going from our dingy, dilapidated apartment. When I, at the innocent age of four, had finally found the courage to ask Helen why she always went to the bedroom when they came over, she told me it was her ‘grownup time,’ and to go make Sophia stop crying so her ‘special friend’ didn’t get upset. “You remember what happens when Mommy’s friends get upset, don’t you?”

  “I’m sorry things got so heated,” Sophia said, breaking me out of the memory from hell. “It’s just…I’m tired of you treating me like a kid when it comes to Helen. I know you don’t like to talk about her, and I respect that. But you, of all people, should understand why I wanted to find her. Then the opportunity to do so practically landed in my lap when I found someone who looked like her named ‘Helen K Bates’ on Facebook. I told you that I sent her a friend request and wanted to maybe give her my number eventually if it really was her. You freaked out and told me that was a terrible idea, and not to expect you to protect me from her anymore. You also said that I was an idiot if I believed she wouldn’t stand me up too. That’s when I started yelling. But, El, what did you mean by that—stand me up too? And protecting me?”

  I tipped my wine glass back against my lips, purposefully taking my time while I debated how to handle my sister’s questions and everything else she’d just thrown at me. Like the fact that I now knew Helen’s last name.

  She was right, of course; I couldn’t blame her for being curious.

  But she didn’t know the entire truth about our mother.

  “Sophia, I’m sorry I called you an idiot. But I just think you’re setting yourself up for failure by going down this path. I don’t want you to get your hopes up only to have them crushed when history repeats itself. If she decides you’re not worth her time again.”

  She eyed me curiously over the rim of her glass before setting it down and hugging her knees to her chest. “Don’t you have questions? Aren’t you curious about what she’s like or what she’s been doing all these years?”

  “Sure, I have questions. But, honestly? It’s not worth my time. Or yours. As far as knowing what kind of person she is…she’s the kind of person who neglected then abandoned her children. That’s all I need to know.”

  “She’s also the kind of person who gave us up in order to give us a better life.”

  I shook my head. “No, Soph, she gave us up in order to give herself a better life.”

  “Can’t it be both? And doesn’t it count that she gave us to her parents instead of social services?”

  “I’m supposed to give her a pass for everything else just because she eventually did what she should’ve done right after you were born? That’s not how it works, Sophia. And that’s also my point—she gave us to Pops and Nana. The people who raised us and gave us everything. Wondering about her seems…”

  “Like you’re betraying them?” Sophia supplied.

  I nodded.

  “They wouldn’t fault us for having questions about her, El. Don’t you think they have questions too?”

  “I think Nana and Pops wrote her off a long time ago. She burned them. Twice.” I sighed, reaching out to put my hand on her leg to get her attention. “But I understand why you’re tempted to seek answers. So, I’m not going to try and talk you out of going through with this, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll ever be willing to meet with her.”

  She lifted her head enough to meet my eyes. “You’re okay with me seeing where things go if she accepts my friend request?”

  “I know you think I still treat you like a little kid. And I guess I probably do sometimes; I can’t help it. I’ll always look out for you, Soph. Comes with the big sister territory. But I know you’re perfectly capable of making your own decisions. And if you decide you need answers from our mother, I’m not going to stand in your way. Part of growing up is learning from and living with the choices we make…a lesson I’m still learning.”

  “You think I’m making a mistake?”

  I hesitated, debating my response. “I didn’t say mistake, I said choice. There’s a difference.”

  �
�Fair enough. El, thank you. For hearing me out and telling me you don’t think I’m an idiot. Even if part of you does.”

  I poured us both refills before turning back to her and clinking my glass against hers. “I don’t think you’re an idiot. And you’re welcome. I’m glad we did this.”

  She smiled, and I knew she understood my meaning.

  I didn’t have all the answers, but I meant what I'd said—I was genuinely relieved Sophia and I had found a way to have a productive conversation about Helen.

  I just hoped to God history wasn’t about to repeat itself.

  Chapter 5

  Bryce

  It felt strange driving through the Kincaid property after so many years away. In fact, because their property directly backed up to my parents’ land, I’d never actually driven up the driveway before; I’d always just cut through the Crush vineyard and walked along the fence line to get to the manor.

  Kincaid Manor was situated at the north end of their property, and Let Love Inn was located in the southwest corner. All together the Kincaids owned about twenty acres, which allowed them privacy without being too far from the inn.

  The sound of gravel crunching beneath my tires took me on a bittersweet stroll down memory lane as I turned onto the driveway leading toward the inn.

  Flashes of bike rides, blonde hair blowing in the wind, and the most contagious laugh I’d ever heard washed over me. I surrendered to the memories, letting images of a young Elliot permeate my mind until I came to a stop and those images of the Elliot I knew were replaced by the sight of present day, grown-up Elliot.

  The Elliot I no longer knew.

  Seeing her at the open house had caught me completely off guard.

  Actually, it wasn’t just seeing her that caught me off guard. It was being reminded how gorgeous she’d grown up to be that I wasn’t prepared for. Even globs of kimchi and sriracha couldn’t detract from El’s beauty, with her lithe little body and those big blue eyes, not to mention her breath-stealing smile.

  When we were kids, I used to tease her about her mouth being larger than average.

  If only I had known then that I’d grow up and fantasize about all the things that mouth could do.

  Elliot was nineteen the last time I’d seen her, and by then our three-year age gap wasn’t an issue, so I’d allowed myself to appreciate her girl-next-door good looks. Hell, I almost fucking kissed her. But at the time, I was in no position to even allow myself to think of her as anything but a friend.

  Now?

  In a completely different way, my life was still full of unknowns.

  But one thing I knew with absolute certainty was that I wanted the opportunity to make things right with her. Somehow. The look on her face when she found out I’d been here for a year had haunted me all week, and I hated myself for not calling her any of the times I picked up my phone to do so over the last year.

  I parked and realized El was the only other person here when I saw her sitting on the stairs leading to the inn’s porch, twirling a thick blonde lock around her fingers. Even with a furrowed brow and scowl weighing her features down, she was beautiful.

  But I was lying to myself if I thought her looks were the only thing responsible for this foreign warmth filling me up. It was her—all of her. For once, someone other than Peyton brought the organ resting inside my chest to life, disrupting its steady autopilot rhythm. It had been over two years since a woman evoked any kind of emotion in me, and I wasn’t sure what to make of the feeling.

  “Did you know?” she asked, crossing her arms and narrowing her baby blues at me.

  Know what? Immediately, my thoughts turned to that night five years ago. To its aftermath.

  Elliot didn’t look angry, exactly, but she did look hurt. Again. Which made me feel like an asshole, but also told me she was probably referring to something else.

  I took a tentative step in her direction. “About the renovations?”

  “No. About Nana and Pops selling Serenity. Retiring. The whole shebang.”

  “George told me about it when he called about the inn a couple weeks ago, but I swear, El, I had no idea you didn’t know about Serenity. I’m sorry.”

  The harsh lines between Elliot’s brows softened, and her expression morphed into one of understanding. “I guess it’s good they waited until after their honeymoon to tell us. It just seems like it’s all happening so fast.” She paused and picked at a frayed part of her ripped jeans, drawing my attention to the smooth skin hiding beneath. “Did they tell you they want to give the inn to Sophia and me? As in, we’d be the owners and have final say over all of the renovations.”

  “They mentioned that they hadn’t decided exactly what to do with the place. I figured they meant whether they’d keep it or sell it, though.”

  “I don’t know what we’re going to do. I mean, can you imagine? It’s not like I haven’t thought about what it’d be like to reopen the inn, but I have a job that I love, and Sophia is jetting off to Europe as soon as she graduates. Plus, we’re way too young to run the place ourselves. Right?”

  “I don’t know. Weren’t Millie and George fresh out of college when they got the loan to build this place?” I asked, remembering that detail from the dozens of times George had told the story to us growing up.

  Elliot sighed. “Yeah. But Nana and Pops are basically super-human, so that doesn’t count. At the same time, though, that’s kinda my point.” She paused, looking up from the ground to meet my gaze. “Nana and Pops worked so incredibly hard to make this place a success. What if Sophia and I fail? I can’t disappoint them, Bryce. I can’t be like her.”

  I took a step forward, instinctively wanting to close the gap and grab her hands. When we were young, on the rare occasion Elliot spoke about her mother, I’d developed the habit of squeezing her hands in mine. I never knew what made me do it the first time, but somehow it seemed to help. To reassure her. To calm her. To make her feel safe. So I kept doing it.

  “You’re not like her, El,” I said, giving her hands that familiar squeeze. It was strange how natural the gesture felt all these years later. “And you won’t disappoint them. Not possible.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  It killed me to see how much El’s deadbeat mother still affected her, that she still plagued this bright, brilliant girl with fears of inadequacy. We might’ve lost touch, but that didn’t change the fact that I knew El was nothing like Helen, and she never would be.

  The need to make her see her worth hit me all at once.

  “I do know that, Uno.”

  “You don’t get it, Bryce. I thought I was going to finally prove that to myself five years ago, when she was supposed to meet me. You remember?” She paused, waiting for a response, but all I could manage was a tiny nod thanks to the mass of dread knotting my stomach. “Well, she never showed. My train wreck of a mother couldn’t be bothered to show her face after she was the one who reached out to me. I just don’t get why. Why reach out to me—dangle a little sliver of hope after fourteen fucking years—only to blow me off?”

  Fuck.

  Seeing the anguish on El’s face gutted me. That dread crawled up into my chest and squeezed the life out of my heart. This is my fault. I should’ve done more to talk her out of the whole thing. I should’ve called her after I got back to Washington to see what happened.

  I thought I’d done the right thing back then.

  “El, that’s just it, though. That proves how different—”

  The sound of a car door slamming stole Elliot’s attention, and she quickly pulled out of my grip as George, Millie, and Sophia piled out of a Jeep and walked over to meet us.

  After a couple minutes of slightly awkward small talk, we made our way across the threshold.

  Elliot gave the immediate vicinity a quick scan before turning toward me. “Where do we start, Bryce?”

  I knew she was referring to the inn, but a part of me wished she meant where do we start. The difference was, as far as th
e inn was concerned, I had a solid answer. The other? Good fucking question. How do you turn back the clock to erase the days that became months, and months that evolved into years, turning us into strangers?

  Except, we’re not strangers. There wouldn’t be an underlying level of comfort between us if that was the case.

  “For now, we just go room by room, and I’ll take notes and photos. You guys can do the same or just make mental notes. I’ve already got a couple of preliminary ideas, but I’d like to get our bearings first, then compare notes after I’ve had a chance to firm up my plans. That work?” I asked, looking between the four of them.

  They all gave me similar ‘whatever you say’ looks and offered varying forms of agreement.

  I hung back, letting them take in the space first. The architect in me immediately started envisioning the potential changes and improvements that would need to happen first. Having those visions was second nature to me by now, and I could practically sketch ideas in my sleep.

  I watched Elliot and tried to decipher what her expressions meant as she trekked through the rooms. I could tell she was overwhelmed, but she was more like her grandparents than she realized. The excitement that crept into her voice as she discussed ideas with Sophia was proof that she shared her grandparents’ passion for the inn.

  Eventually, after taking notes based on what I'd overheard from all of them, I snapped my notebook closed and pocketed my camera, satisfied I had enough for a solid initial proposal.

  “I think I have everything I need for now. Give me a few days to get the ball rolling, then we can sit down and brainstorm about where to go from there. Sound good?”