Can't Help Falling

by Cara Bastone

  He sighed, his eyes bouncing back to Via. “Good,” he answered vaguely. He glanced back at Fin’s bright gaze and caught the almost imperceptible eye roll there. He sighed. She was right. There was no reason to hide behind machismo right now. He was among friends. Well, he was among Sebastian and Mary, true friends. There was also Via, who he had to admit had homemade-lasagna-ed herself right into friendship territory. And Fin, who was decidedly not a friend, but also wasn’t an enemy anymore either.

  “Hard,” he amended a moment later, his eyes still on Fin’s.

  “Has the social worker helped you at all?” Sebastian asked, drawing Tyler’s attention.

  Tyler shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. “She’s technically Kylie’s social worker, so she pawned me off to this counselor, who put me through a ten-hour course a few weeks ago. It was pretty much useless. A bunch of pamphlets and shit like that. They all say do stuff with her, talk to her, follow through on your commitments.”

  “That doesn’t sound so useless,” Via said gently.

  “I mean, the information isn’t terrible, but none of them tell me how to do any of that shit.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know how?” Seb asked incredulously. “You’re the most tenacious person I’ve ever met. Ty, when we first were becoming friends, I had to uninvite you from my house because you were coming over too often. Where’s that guy in all this?”

  The group laughed and Tyler grinned. It was true. Tenacity and bullheadedness were two of the main ways that he’d gotten all the things he was most proud of in his life. His friendship with Sebastian, his job with the Nets, his beautiful apartment, his—albeit currently withered—status with women. “Eh,” he grunted. “I think I left my mojo in Columbus.”

  Tyler sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees. He looked at no one but could feel Fin’s icy eyes on his face.

  “You’re right that my natural instinct is to push. But I’m scared of pushing her too far.” Tyler set his beer aside and scraped his palms over his face. “She did not want to leave Columbus. And here we are in Brooklyn. And I’m just tiptoeing around, holding my breath outside of her school, hoping she comes out and gets on the train with me.”

  He picked up his beer and gulped at it, hoping to clear the lump that had gathered in his throat. Fin’s silence was unending, and he couldn’t help but read into it. She was the one who’d tried so hard to be a foster parent. Who would have wanted this kind of change in her life. She could probably think of a million and two ways to reach Kylie and here he was, admitting to absolutely failing at connecting with someone he was blood-related to.

  “I don’t think she’s going to run away, Ty,” Mary said after a minute. “You might not notice it, but she sticks pretty close to you.”

  He looked up. The distance he felt from Kylie was so tangible, so ever-present, that Mary’s words did not compute. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, maybe not when you’re in your own house and she goes into her room. But when you’re out and about, I’ve noticed that she’s always right by your side. Even when you first got here tonight, she was right next to you all the way through dinner.”

  “She took Matty and Crabby to get ice cream,” Tyler pointed out.

  “Because you suggested it,” Fin cut in. It was the first thing that she’d said the entire conversation and Tyler tried not to make her single sentence be the most meaningful thing he’d heard all night. But it made his heart skip to hear it. He went back over the moment with Kylie. Matty had been begging his parents to take him to get ice cream, and they’d said no. Tyler had suggested that Matty and Kylie go together. He’d showed her how to get there on Google Maps. She’d nodded, looking nervous, but had done it anyway.

  Huh.

  Maybe Kylie didn’t think he was the biggest fuckup on the face of the planet. What a delightful thought. He’d been thinking of himself as the one that no one wanted for so long, the idea of someone wanting only him was disorienting.

  “You know,” Seb said. “Not to pile on the advice here...”

  Tyler leaned back against the cushions. “Go ahead and pile drive me.”

  Seb laughed. “But I don’t think that the way you interact with Kylie has to be that different than the way you interact with Matty.”

  Tyler pulled a face. “Poor, poor Sebastian, you sweet, innocent soul. You will be so utterly shocked and devastated when Matty reaches teenagerhood. You have absolutely no idea that children and teenagers are completely different species.”

  “Obviously, but come on, teenagers are still children. I’m serious here. I’m not saying you should sit on Kylie’s back and make her eat carpet fuzz the way you do with Matty.”

  Tyler laughed.

  “But think about when it’s time to get Matty to do something, go to school, eat dinner, leave the park, whatever it is. Do you take no for an answer? No. You’re firm. You set boundaries. You confidently know what’s best for him, and even if he throws a fit, he does what you say in the end.”

  “The difference is that with Matty, I actually know what’s best for him. With Kylie, I don’t.”

  “Yes,” Fin said, her head leaning on one hand, her face lit from the side by lamplight. “You do.”

  Just then, the front door opened. The kids had returned.

  * * *

  EVEN THROUGH THE chaos of Crabby bounding back into the room, his tongue askew, his tail whipping every knee and shin he scrabbled past, Fin kept her eyes on Tyler. He was sitting up, turning around, smiling at Kylie as she came in, balancing extra ice creams in both hands.

  “I wasn’t sure who wanted some so...”

  Kylie seemed embarrassed by her gesture to the group but Tyler seemed utterly delighted. He jumped up and helped her with the ice creams.

  “I got sprinkles on mine. And we chose one more with sprinkles in case someone wanted it,” Matty said authoritatively.

  “Me!” Mary raised her hand in the air. Both hands on the dish, both eyes on the ice cream, Matty carefully walked it across the room to her.

  “Looks like we’ve got a chocolate chocolate chip right here?” Tyler said, inspecting the one in his hand.

  “Mine. Dibs. Called it.” Fin put her finger in the air. He smirked at her as he walked it over.

  “Should have guessed you’d have a thing for dark chocolate.” He passed the dish to her and the same thing that happened when she’d handed him the beer earlier happened again. The heat between their fingers was unexpectedly overwhelming. Fin did her best not to touch people, because it always ended up making her feel funny. But with this moment, the chocolate passing from one hand to the other, the cold dish, the heat of the back of his hand against the pads of her fingers, it was all inexplicably delicious.

  She frowned as she took the ice cream and leaned back. Delicious and Tyler Leshuski should never be in the same thought.

  “Who wants pistachio?” Kylie asked. She frowned when there were no takers. “Come on. There’s always some adult at some ice-cream shop who’s ordering pistachio. I know one of you wants it.”

  Sebastian laughed. “Over here, kid.”

  She walked it over, and Fin began to see what a good idea this whole getting-her-a-job thing was. Kylie was a shy, insular person for the most part, but Fin had seen just how fast her energy had bloomed open when the idea of having a job had been tossed around. And even now, just having been the one to get the ice cream and to be the one passing it out, Kylie was actually standing in front of a room of adults and making jokes about pistachio ice cream.

  It was clear to Fin that Kylie had been given too much responsibility at too young of an age. But that didn’t mean that she didn’t want any responsibility at all. Maybe giving her tasks was the way to her heart.

  Fin instantly thought of a hundred different things she could have Kylie help her with at her house. Cleansing crystals for her jewe
lry, drying herbs, the works. She frowned and took a lick from her spoon. But all of that would require having Tyler trust her enough to invite Kylie over to her house.

  It was with Tyler on her mind that Fin finished her ice cream and got up to start straightening the kitchen. Via was one of those cooks who cleaned up as she went, so there was never much to do after one of her dinner parties, but Fin liked to be the one to do it anyway.

  She filled the sink with soapy water and was surprised when a pile of dishes appeared next to her. Tyler motioned for her to move aside and he grabbed the trash and the small compost bin from under the sink. He started scraping the plates into the bins.

  Fin said nothing.

  Tyler seemed lost in thought, at ease, and Fin felt strange, being the one who was a little flustered. There was a buzzing cloud of energy surrounding him, and Fin could neither get hold of it nor avoid it as he moved around the kitchen, putting away leftovers and wiping down the counters. She scrubbed up the plates and the few pots that were left and then drained the sink. She turned her back to the counter and watched him while, seemingly without thinking too much on it, he picked up the dishes from the rack and started drying them. She took them one by one from his hands and put them away.

  His energy was like a forcefield that both kept her close and pushed her away. She couldn’t read his mood, nor did she want to, but she also found that she didn’t want to leave the kitchen.

  She frowned and watched him as he refolded the dish towels, washed his hands.

  “What?” he asked as he turned around.

  She read the defensiveness on his face and purposefully dropped her crossed arms. She was sure that she was accidentally looking critical. She decided to lighten the mood.

  “No comments on the fact that I did all the dishes?”

  He looked confused. “You want a letter grade?”

  “No. But you were the one who said I wasn’t exactly the housework type.”

  A sparkle came into his eye. “Ah, of course. Where are your servants tonight? Gave them the night off from feeding you grapes and fanning you with palm leaves?”

  “Even Cleopatra gives her servants a night to wash their golden underwear.”

  He laughed again, but there was fatigue in it. She didn’t like that look on his face. He was supposed to look confident, amused, interested, observant. He wasn’t supposed to look utterly bemused by the state of his life.

  Fin shoved her hand into her pocket and pulled out her familiar crystals, the way she had for Kylie. “Pick one,” she demanded.

  He dropped his navy eyes to her hand and then swooped them back up to her face. “For what?”

  “I’m going to make you something.”

  For a moment he looked pleased, then skeptical, then uncomfortable. “I’m...not exactly a jewelry kind of guy.”

  She couldn’t help but roll her eyes and laugh. “Don’t you think I know that? It’s not going to be jewelry.” She jiggled her hand a bit. “Come on. Pick one.”

  “What’s it for?”

  “Your energy is a mess. It’s distracting. And whether or not you believe it, it’s making it harder for you to connect with Kylie. So suspend your disbelief, pick one of these, whichever one draws you, and let me help you out a little bit.”

  He looked for a moment like he was going to argue, but then he merely shrugged and bent over a little to look at the selection in her hand. Before she could stop him, he reached down and plucked the small, clearish pink rose quartz from her hand.

  She felt its weight leave her palm as she gaped. She’d forgotten to tell him to point and not pick up. It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d pluck one right out of her hand.

  It was the first time in almost a decade that someone else had touched the quartz. She’d carried it with her for years, using it, loving it, cleansing it, depending on it. And now, there it was, perfectly pressed between his thumb and forefinger as he held it up to the light.

  She felt like he’d just plucked a loose tooth from her mouth.

  “Does it mean something? Or protect against anything in particular?”

  Still she gaped at him, trying to get her breath back.

  “Fin?”

  “Uh,” she said, gravel in her throat. “Rose quartz helps transform negative energy into positive energy. It promotes healing.”

  “Oh. Cool.” He tossed the stone in the air and caught it, her eyes following the path the entire way. “What’ll you make out of it?”

  “A key chain,” she said hoarsely, and cleared her throat. What was done was done. She knew better than to take it back now. She slipped her other stones back into her pocket, feeling the absence of the rose quartz, yet still aware of its glowing heat in Tyler’s hand. “So that whenever you have your keys with you, you’ll have the crystal with you as well.”

  He frowned. “Can’t I just carry it in my pocket? The way you do?”

  She still couldn’t take her eyes off the familiar planes and corners of her crystal in his hand. His hand was so much larger than hers that when he let the quartz roll to his palm, it looked minuscule.

  “...Sure.”

  “Great. Thanks for the gift. Not sure I totally understand it. But, uh, the gesture means a lot.” With that, he effortlessly slipped the stone in his pocket, and again Fin followed the movement with her eyes.

  She could practically feel the warm safety of his pocket surrounding the crystal. Her crystal. His crystal. He nodded to her and walked out of the room, and she couldn’t escape the feeling that he was taking a part of her with him.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “DON’T THINK I won’t tickle-torture you,” Via said from where she reclined on Fin’s tiny balcony that overlooked a sliver of Prospect Park. It was December and freezing, so both women were in full outdoor gear and covered up by a big blanket, but sitting on the balcony while they drank piping hot tea and chatted was enough of a timeworn tradition between them that they honored it even in the winter months. Even when a damp, cold rain had turned Brooklyn into a muted, slightly stinky version of a Parisian street painting.

  “For what?” Fin demanded. Via was the only person on this earth allowed to tickle Fin, and even then, it was only supposed to be used in the direst of circumstances. Via had been firmly instructed only to use tickle torture when Fin was obstinately refusing to talk about something that she should probably let out into the open air.

  “For the storm cloud over your head. Something is bothering you and you won’t talk about it.”

  Fin said nothing, just sipped her tea.

  “Did you accept that blind date your client wanted to set you up on?” Via abruptly changed the subject.

  One of her clients had insisted that she knew Mr. Perfect and had attempted to play matchmaker. She’d sworn that he was a great guy.

  Fin frowned. “Of course not.”

  “Why is that exactly?”

  Fin turned her head and eyed her friend. “You know I’m not dating right now. I’m concentrating on...other things.”

  Once upon a time, “other things” would have been becoming a foster parent. But over the last month, Kylie had found her way into the “other things” pile as well.

  “Ah. Right. You don’t want a man to distract you. Which is what you told Tyler when he asked you out.”

  “What does Tyler have to do with this?”

  “Nothing!” Via said in a voice just a note too high to be innocent. She fiddled with her teacup. “Well, I think you should go on this blind date.”

  “Why?” Fin asked, almost suspiciously.

  Via shrugged. “I think it would help you...figure some stuff out.”

  “Winnie explicitly said that this guy was really charming but looking for something uncomplicated because he lives bicoastally. How would that ever fit into my life?”

  Via tossed her hands
up. “You don’t want something casual, you don’t want something serious. I don’t think you have any idea what you want.” A thoughtful look came over her face, maybe a little bit sly. “Unless,” Via prompted, “you have feelings for someone else that I don’t know about?”

  Fin couldn’t help but laugh. “Who on earth would I have feelings for?” Something popped up into the corner of Fin’s mind, a familiar and not altogether welcome energy. She shoved it back, away, and continued on. “Have you ever known me to have feelings for someone? Real feelings?”

  “Well. No. But—”

  “Violetta, you know how I feel about having a man in my life.”

  “Is this all because of that dream? Your mother, the harbinger of doom, telling you that you won’t be able to foster if you go on a date with an interesting, available man?” Via huffed and threw her hands up in the air. “I’m so sick of your mother. And I never even met her.”

  Fin sucked her teeth and let the view of the park fade in on itself, her thoughts spinning inward as she sought a way to explain. “My mother was no saint, Via, obviously. But she was rarely, if ever, wrong.”

  “Oh, don’t give me that, Fin. Because one of the things you think she was not wrong about was that a man ruined her life by giving her you. And she was dead wrong about that. She ruined her own life by not appreciating what she had in a daughter. She’s not infallible. You can’t let her regrets guide your choices.”

  Fin frowned. To someone who wasn’t clairvoyant, who didn’t see the patterns and repercussions of every little choice a person made, she supposed it would seem as if she were choosing to let a superstition run her life.

  Becoming a foster parent, even if she was taking a break from the application process right now, was Fin’s nearest and dearest ambition. And it was a scary, unmapped maze of unknowns. And now Via just wanted her to cavalierly slap some dates on top of that? Fin would never find her way out of the labyrinth of her life if she did that. Things were complicated enough without adding a man in there. Besides, men were takers. They pursued hard, got what they wanted and gave nothing in return. Fin had a short string of casual relationships from her twenties to prove it. She didn’t need that in her life.