Falling

by Jane Green

  As Emma approaches Dominic’s cottage next door, she shakes her head to clear the memories. Parties are decidedly not her thing, but a barbecue in the garden at her landlord’s house . . . at least there will be no pressure to perform. At least the crowd won’t consist of self-absorbed bankers and intimidatingly gorgeous and perfect women.

  At least there is that.

  She pushes open the gate that separates the two gardens, hearing the buzz of happy chatter and children’s squeals. A group of people are standing around a trestle table covered in a red-and-white checked tablecloth, with bottles of wine and soda, and a big aluminum bucket filled with ice and cans of beer wedged underneath.

  The table is covered with platters of chips and dips, giant bowls of pretzels, and M&Ms mixed with popcorn. Children grab handfuls of the snacks when their parents aren’t looking and run back and forth between them and a great big inflatable pool and slide at the bottom of the garden, not wanting to miss a second of the fun.

  “Daddy! Daddy!” Jesse’s at the top of the slide, yelling for his father. “We need more water! We need the hose!”

  “Okay, buddy!” Emma sees Dominic put his beer down and grab the hose, pulling it back down to the slide. “Coming right up.” He turns and sees Emma, and grins broadly.

  “You made it! I’m so pleased. Help yourself to a drink—I’ll just finish this off, then I’ll come and introduce you to everyone. Hey, AJ?” A tall man at the other end of the garden looks up. “This is Emma, who I was telling you about. My tenant.”

  “Emma!” As AJ shouts her name, everyone turns to look at her, with smiles and waves. Emma walks over, shakes hands with people as she tries to remember everyone she’s introduced to—AJ and Deb, Joey, Frank, Kevin, Tina, Johnny, Andrea and Victor—before someone hands her a cold beer and she takes a grateful swig.

  “The English tenant,” AJ says, a great big bear of a man with a huge smile behind his thick beard. “How’s your landlord treating you?”

  “So far, so good. But ask me again in another week.”

  “Dominic says you were a big-time banker. How do you like our slow life out in the suburbs? He says you’re retired.”

  Emma laughs. “That makes me feel like a pensioner. I’m not retired; I couldn’t afford to retire. But—well, I’ve retired from banking, I suppose. So far I’m loving it. No stress, no pressure, no working all hours of the day and night. I’m in heaven, although I can’t do this forever. I’m just taking a small break before I decide what to do next.”

  “And how did you find Dominic?”

  “Craigslist.”

  “Really? Now that’s a great story.”

  “It is? There’s no great story there. I just answered an ad for a rental house, and . . . voilà.”

  AJ shrugs and winks knowingly. “It’s not a great story yet.”

  “What do you mean?” Emma feels a faint blush coming on, as he unself-consciously teases her. “There’s no romance. Anyway, he’s dating someone.”

  AJ laughs good-naturedly. “Gina’s not someone you date. She’s someone you . . . do other stuff with. I’m sorry, I’m just teasing you. You’re single, Dominic says, and you seem like a great girl. What’s wrong with wanting my friend to be happy?”

  Emma laughs. “That’s very sweet, but it’s a terrible idea. What if it all went horribly wrong and I had to move out? What if we ended up hating each other and then had to continue living next door with me having to ask him to fix the faucet every time it broke? Terrible idea. The worst.”

  “What if you ended up falling madly in love and discovered you were each other’s soul mates?” AJ says, as a woman walks over and leans tenderly against his shoulder. Emma realized she must be Deb, who was introduced to her along with AJ. Now Deb shakes her head with an exasperated smile at Emma.

  “Is he teasing you? I’m sorry. It’s what my husband does. It’s like some bizarre initiation rite he has to go through with all the women Dominic’s interested in.”

  “Oh. That’s okay. Dominic’s not interested in me. It’s not what you think. I’m just the tenant.”

  “He’s not? Are you sure?” Deb asked.

  “Very sure.” Emma laughs, excusing herself to go into the kitchen. How bizarre of his friends to be so preoccupied with the idea of her dating him. She felt she had to get away from the scrutiny. Perhaps she can help with the food.

  “Can you baste the ribs?” says a woman, struggling to pull a lasagna out of the oven. “I’m Andrea. Andrea Leung. We met earlier?”

  “Of course,” says Emma. “Are you from around here?”

  “We live in Massachusetts, actually, but we’re here visiting friends. Penelope?” She turns suddenly, calling out to a sweet little girl sitting at the kitchen table. “Run outside and check on Grace and Victoria.” She turns back to Emma. “Sorry. Just needed to check they’re not getting into trouble.”

  “Of course. How do you know Dominic?” Emma asks, to be polite more than anything else.

  “I don’t. My husband, Victor, went to school with AJ, and we’re staying with them, so he brought us. He seems lovely, though. You’re lucky.” She smiles, turning on her heel to take the food outside before Emma can close her mouth, which had dropped open in surprise at the comment, or have a chance to correct her. But she had to wonder what was going on. Why did everyone assume she had some kind of romantic connection with Dominic?

  She turns back to the ribs, basting them with the sauce, ready to put them in the oven as Jesse runs into the kitchen, feet soaking wet from the slide. With a yelp and a loud cry, he goes skidding into the kitchen table, banging his head, collapsing in a small heap on the ground.

  “Jesse!” Emma races over and feels his head. “Are you okay?”

  Jesse is furiously trying to blink back tears as he nods. “I’m okay,” he says in a small voice, trying very hard not to cry.

  “Let me feel,” says Emma, hoping he doesn’t cry, because she has absolutely no idea what to do with a crying child. She runs her hand over the side of Jesse’s head, where she can already feel a bump forming. “Oh boy,” she says. “You’ve got a big one.”

  “A big what?”

  “A big, ginormous volcano erupting out of your head.”

  “It hurts.” He blinks back more tears.

  “Can I rub it for you? Sometimes that helps. And we can put some ice on it, too. How does that sound?”

  “Okay,” he says, as Emma rubs his head just the way her mother used to rub hers. Leaving him for a second, she goes to the freezer and pulls out a bag of frozen corn that looks like it’s been living in there for years. And just behind it, she spies a box of frozen Fudgsicles.

  “Okay.” She goes back and scoots down onto the floor next to Jesse, the bag of corn in one hand, a Fudgsicle in the other. “The corn’s for your head, the Fudgsicle’s for your mouth. You know chocolate is the very best thing for bumps and bruises, right?”

  “No,” says Jesse. But he reaches for the Fudgsicle as Emma holds the frozen corn to his head. Just then Dominic walks in, his face sinking when he sees his son’s tear-stained face.

  “Buddy! What happened?” he says, rushing over to pick Jesse up.

  “I’m okay,” says Jesse, who is more interested in sucking the Fudgsicle than in discussing his wound. “I skidded on the kitchen floor.”

  “Wet feet,” explains Emma.

  “Emma looked after me. I feel better now,” he says, as Dominic winces when he feels the bump, before putting him down on the floor.

  “No running with wet feet,” says Dominic sternly. “What did I tell you?”

  “Sorry, Dad. Can I go back to the slide?”

  “Only if you walk.”

  “’Kay,” says Jesse, Fudgsicle in his mouth, as he turns and runs out of the kitchen.

  “No running!” shout Dominic and Emma together. Then they
look at each other and laugh.

  “Sorry,” says Emma, who finds herself holding the bag of corn again. “I hope you weren’t saving the corn for anything special. It’s clearly vintage.” She turns the bag over to look for a sell-by date. “Goodness, sell by October fourteenth, 2010. This could be worth some serious money. Have you considered contacting Antiques Roadshow?”

  “It’s frozen,” says Dominic, who is smiling through his embarrassment. “The sell-by dates don’t matter in the freezer.”

  Emma wrinkles her nose with a laugh. “I think five years is pushing it.”

  “You thought I was going to eat it? Oh, you’re funny. That corn is only there for bumps on the head. That’s why I bought it.”

  “Of course you did. What else is in there, I wonder, that is purely for medicinal purposes?”

  “This,” says Dominic, pulling a bottle of vodka out of the freezer. “Want some? Go on. It’s after five. Live a little.”

  “You’re a horrible influence when it comes to alcohol,” says Emma, although she doesn’t protest as Dominic reaches for a couple of glasses and pours them each some vodka on ice.

  “It’s summer. We’re at a party. We’re not getting drunk; we’re just having a drink. Here. Cheers,” he says.

  Emma realizes that she hasn’t stopped smiling since Dominic walked into the room. “Cheers,” she says back, then downs the vodka in one.

  • • •

  “We should totally get together for a girls’ night out,” says Deb, AJ’s wife, later in the evening as they are sitting around, messily gnawing on ribs and coleslaw, reaching for the large pile of wet wipes in the middle of the table. “That would be so much fun. What do you think? I’m still on the kids’ vacation time, so I’m making the most of it before school starts.”

  “I’d love to,” says Emma, thinking how much she actually would, how every single one of Dominic’s friends has been welcoming, and warm, without an ounce of competitiveness. Gina isn’t here—she wonders why for a moment, and then dismisses the thought, happy simply to have spent time in such pleasant, relaxed company. These are the kinds of people Emma would never have met in her New York banking world, and she feels relieved again to be where she is now.

  They are teachers, contractors, personal trainers. The people, she thinks ironically, who work for the people she once worked with. They are real, fun to be with, and completely down-to-earth. A few weeks ago she wouldn’t have fitted in, she thinks. Or they would not have accepted her, not in her short skirts and high heels. But sitting here today, wearing jeans and flip-flops, her hands sticky from the ribs, laughing as the afternoon turns to dusk, she is nothing other than the tenant, fitting right in.

  AJ wanders over. “Dominic said he built shelves for you. How did he do?”

  “They’re fantastic,” lies Emma. Although it is true, the shelves do look pretty fantastic now, after her ministrations.

  “Really?” Both AJ and Deb look dubious. Deb lowers her voice. “He’s a great guy but a master carpenter he’s not. He built us a bench for our foyer and it collapsed the first time AJ sat on it.”

  “Hey.” Dominic comes over. “I heard that. That’s got nothing to do with the bench. That’s AJ’s beer gut.” He reaches over in an attempt to pat it, but AJ wrestles him away.

  “All I can say is don’t give up the night job,” says AJ with a guffaw.

  “I built beautiful shelves for Emma, didn’t I?” says Dominic, turning to Emma for confirmation.

  “You did.” Emma nods.

  “Even if they fall down if you put anything on them?” AJ laughs.

  “You don’t believe me? Come and see. You don’t mind, Emma, right?”

  Crap, thinks Emma. He doesn’t know I’ve thrown the carpet out. He doesn’t know I’ve painted his beloved orange wood-paneled walls. He doesn’t know I’ve chucked the broken white slatted blinds. Why did I open my mouth?

  “Sure,” says Emma, with some hesitation. “But the house is a bit of a mess. I don’t know that today’s a good time . . .”

  “I don’t care about that. Come on, I need to prove to these guys that I can build a decent set of shelves.”

  Emma closes her eyes for just a second. Ask forgiveness, she thinks. Apologize once he’s seen it, and hope to God he appreciates what it looks like now.

  Please let him not be mad.

  They walk across the garden, through the gate, Emma trying not to sink into a pool of guilt and misery. She thinks about whether to prepare him, about what she should say, but suddenly they are at the door, and then inside the house, and then, all of them, standing in the doorway of the office.

  “Oh my God!” says Deb. “This is gorgeous.”

  “Wow!” says AJ. He stands there silently for a moment. “I take it all back. Man, this room looks fantastic. Wow, Dominic. You did an awesome job.”

  “Thanks,” says Dominic, his brow furrowing as he frowns at the room.

  “I’m really sorry,” Emma says to Dominic, under her breath. “I got a bit carried away with the paint. I was only going to do the shelves, but then I got some on the walls and I was only going to paint a section but it looked weird so I ended up doing the whole thing. I’m really sorry,” she says again. She arranges her features into an expression of apology as she looks at him, but he doesn’t look back at her. He’s too busy looking around the room.

  “What happened to the carpet?” he says after a pause.

  “Ah. The carpet. I put it outside while I was painting because there were so many boxes on the floor that I kept tripping over it, and the garbage men took it. I mean, I presume they took it by mistake, because when I went to bring it back in the next day, it had disappeared.”

  “I love this rug!” says Deb. “Is this sisal? This is so fantastic.”

  “Where are the blinds?” asks Dominic.

  Emma finally takes a stand. “I threw them away,” she says firmly. “Dominic, most of those slats were snapped in half. They had to be chucked.”

  “They did,” says AJ, looking at his old friend. “I came into this house before you rented it to Emma, and those blinds looked like crap. So did the carpet. In fact, the rest of the carpet still looks like crap. This room now looks like something out of a magazine. You should be paying her to do this. You’d probably get more rent if she did over the whole house.”

  Emma smiles her relief and gratitude at him.

  “He’s right,” says Deb, turning to Emma. “You know, I’d love some help with our house. Is that something you would do? Would you be able to come over and advise me?”

  Emma, beaming, says, “Sure, I’d love to,” then sneaks a look at Dominic.

  “Oh, come on, Dominic,” she says. “You have to admit the room looks better. I am really sorry about the rug. And the blinds. And especially about painting the wall. But look how bright it is now. Don’t you think it’s lovely?”

  “I just didn’t expect this,” Dominic says eventually. “This house has been the same since my grandparents lived here. I liked that it was the same, because it reminded me of them and when they lived here.”

  “Dude.” AJ shakes his head. “This house has looked like shit for years. I knew your grandparents, may they rest in peace, and back then this house looked fine. But now? I don’t even know how you manage to rent this place, it’s so dated. You should let Emma update the whole thing. She obviously has fantastic taste. She should do this professionally.” Turning to Emma, he asks, “Have you considered it?”

  “It’s definitely something I’m thinking about,” says Emma. “But it’s early days. I need to get settled here first, but someday soon I might get serious about it.”

  “As a contractor I could introduce you to at least two people right now who need your help. You let me know if you want me to make the introductions, because you’ve really got talent.”

  Emma sw
ells with pride. She has always loved turning a house into a home, creating a warm, elegant, cozy space, but the dream of turning that into a business has never been anything more than that—a dream. Dominic’s upset is forgotten at the prospect of AJ finding first clients for Emma, and as they all walk back to Dominic’s house, Deb chattering about how they could redo the kitchen and redecorate the family room, Emma thinks she should just tell AJ she’ll meet whoever he wants her to meet. What is she waiting for?

  Dominic’s been quiet as they all troop back. They are about to go through the garden gate when he takes a deep breath and turns to her.

  “You’ve done a beautiful job,” he says. “I’m sorry I was a bit weird about it. I didn’t expect you to have changed the house so much.”

  “Oh God, I’m sorry. It was really selfish of me. I didn’t think you would be upset. I kept thinking you would be thrilled at how good it looked, but I never considered your emotional attachment to the house as it was, or the implications of all the changes I made. I didn’t mean to do anything to upset you.”

  “You didn’t,” he says. “I was a little shocked at first, but honestly, you’ve done a beautiful job. I can’t believe you did all of that by yourself. It looks incredible.” Then he frowns. “What the hell did you do to the shelves? I swear they didn’t look like that when I left the other day.”

  “Oh, just some moldings I nailed on to make them look thicker. I think it’s a more modern look.”

  “Well, they’re great. I can’t take any of the credit.”

  Emma smiles. “A little bit of the credit. You can definitely take a little of the credit. We make a good team.”

  He looks at her with a small smile, the tiniest hint of a raised eyebrow, not saying anything, just looking at her. Emma finds herself flushing pink, and looking away. That isn’t what she meant, she thinks. She doesn’t quite know what to say next. Saying anything else will only make it worse.

  “Better get back,” says Dominic, pushing the gate open and stepping aside to let Emma through. As she passes, he guides her by placing a hand, very gently, on the small of her back. As she feels his hand there, the strangest feeling comes over her, from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.