Worth the Fall

by Mara Jacobs

  Alison nodded. “I was going to stick around for a while.” They all said their goodbyes and Darío reluctantly left his perch in front of his new baby girl.

  When it was just the two of them in front of the window, she turned to Petey. “How’d you get here anyway? And should you even be here?” She motioned to his leg, which was held firm and straight by the brace.

  “My dad picked me up and brought me here during his lunch hour. And yes, the doctors said it was okay to start moving around more, as long as it felt good.”

  “And does it?”

  Now he pulled out the grin. “Oh, yeah. I’d say I haven’t felt this good in an awfully long time.”

  “The knee, dickhead. How’s the knee feel?”

  “Oh. That’s good too,” he teased.

  She rolled her eyes and turned back to the window. Katie’s baby was breathtakingly beautiful. Emotions bubbled through Alison. Happiness for her friend. Joy at the birth of this healthy baby. And yet there was pain. Deep and cutting, it flowed through Alison like a poison entering her bloodstream.

  Peaches chose that moment to open her eyes and look around. She seemed to be staring straight at them.

  “She may have her daddy’s hair, but she’s got her mama’s blue eyes,” Petey said.

  “All babies’ eyes are blue when they’re first born,” Alison told him.

  “Is that right? Hmmm. So we’ll just have to wait and see what gene pool wins out with Peaches. Spanish or Finnish.”

  “If that hair is any indication, I’d say her Spanish side is leading.”

  They both chuckled, then fell silent. The weight in Alison’s chest eased a little, but it was still there.

  “We’d be in the same situation. Brown eyes and blue eyes. Though I….”

  She didn’t hear him finish. Her body tensed up and the breath seemed to leave her body.

  She’d thought of what their baby would look like hundreds of times. But always with regret.

  And always in the past tense.

  But it didn’t sound like he was talking in the past tense—about the baby they’d lost. It sounded like he was talking about a future.

  Together.

  Yes, she wanted children and knew her clock was ticking, but to have Petey’s child now? After all they’d been through?

  Her phone went off and she was grateful for the distraction from her thoughts.

  The caller ID came up as the hospital and she had a moment of fear about her father, who’d been fine just a few moments ago. “Hello?”

  “Alison? This is Scott Thompson.”

  Relief went through her. Scott wasn’t her father’s doctor—he wouldn’t be calling her about him. So why—

  “James?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so. Someone found him in his dorm room and called 911. He’s just come in through the emergency room.”

  “He’s alive?” She started to leave, but Petey put a hand on her shoulder, a question in his eyes.

  She shook her head at him, but wasn’t sure why. Letting him know it wasn’t anyone he knew, she supposed.

  “Yes. It looks like some kind of overdose. We’re pumping his stomach now. I thought you’d want to know.”

  “I do. Thanks for calling me. I’m actually in the hospital now. I’ll be right down.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

  She disconnected and brushed Petey’s hand from her shoulder. “I have to go to the emergency room. One of my patients is there.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No,” she said abruptly. She didn’t want Petey in her real world. He was a nice diversion when she’d come home this past week. And he was fun to volley barbs with in the summers.

  But this was her reality. Hospitals. Patients who depended on her. Parents who needed her help.

  Not a gorgeous jock who been a part of the greatest pain she’d ever known—even if they’d just been dumb kids at the time.

  And who had also made her face some hard truths about herself and sex.

  “I don’t know what I’ll find there. If I’m there as his therapist it wouldn’t be professional to have you with me.”

  “What? Therapists aren’t allowed to have boyfriends?”

  She took a step backward at his words, almost like she’d been slapped.

  Boyfriend? Seriously? This was all getting way too…real.

  “I need to go. Alone.”

  “Okay,” he looked put out but didn’t try to stop her. “I’ll see you later in Kat’s room?”

  She nodded, but didn’t commit.

  When she reached the emergency room Scott was just leaving a curtained-off area that she assumed James was in.

  “He’s stable,” was the first thing he said to her.

  “Thank God.”

  “I told him you were on your way and asked if he wanted to see you.” She started walking toward the area, but Scott placed a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry, Alison. He doesn’t want to see you.”

  Intellectually she understood it. James was in pain and most likely deeply embarrassed as well. But she also felt a deep hurt and a sense of failure—something she’d never felt in her professional life.

  “How about his parents? Will he let you call them?”

  Scott nodded. “Yes. He said he’d like you to call them. But he…”

  She was nodding. “That’s fine. I’ll call them. Do you have their number in his file somewhere? I have it, but it’s back in my office.”

  “Why don’t you use my office? I’ll call up and tell Nancy you’ll be coming and that she should get James’s parents number out for you.”

  “Okay. What can I tell them about his condition?”

  “He’s told me you can tell them everything. He took an overdose of sleeping aids that he’d been buying online and apparently hoarding.”

  “Oh, James,” she whispered.

  Scott put a hand on her shoulder. “He had been ordering them for a few years. Long before you began treating him. He said he’d lied to you. I think that’s why he can’t face you—he’s ashamed.”

  He was trying to make her feel better, but it didn’t work.

  “You know where my office is?” Scott said, wanting to return to his patient.

  Her patient.

  She nodded and numbly walked toward the elevator. On her way to make the hardest phone call of her life.

  When the elevator opened, Petey swung his way out. “Everything okay?” he asked.

  She shook her head, not trusting her voice.

  “Is there anything I can do?” She shook her head again.

  “Are you on your way to Kat’s room?”

  “No. I have something I have to do first. In fact, I’m not sure I’ll even get there.”

  “Okay. Are you sure—”

  “You sure your knee is doing okay?”

  He looked at her with puzzlement but nodded. “Yeah, pretty good. It’s held up well today.”

  “Good. Then you can manage the stairs at your folks’ place. I’d like you gone by the time I get home tonight.” She stepped into the elevator and turned around to press the button, not looking at him as the doors closed.

  ***

  He’d lost her.

  It’d started this morning when he couldn’t keep his fucking trap shut in bed and had spouted his feelings about them finally being able to give it a shot. He’d felt her body tense up but had hoped it was just his imagination.

  And then up at the nursery. They’d had a moment there, and then he’d had to go and wreck it by thinking out loud about the genetics of their child. He’d been talking about a hypothetical future child—which had scared the shit out of him as he said it. But even as he warmed to the idea of the future, she went back to the past.

  And even though they’d had a mini-breakthrough last night, it was evident that she didn’t truly forgive him.

  Or herself.

  Especially herself.

  And if she didn’t, there was no way she’d ever
let him in, truly give them a chance.

  And now? With whatever had happened down here with her patient? It had apparently been her last straw. But to kick him out? When they were so close to…well, he wasn’t exactly sure, but he knew he sure as shit that he wanted to give it a shot.

  Which would be hard to do from his parents’ house and not Alison’s bedroom.

  He pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and pushed some buttons. “Dad?” he said when his father answered. “Do you think you could get Mom and then pick me back up at the hospital? I need to pick up my stuff at Alison’s and need one of you to drive my truck and me to your place.”

  Twenty-Four

  The most terrifying thing is to accept oneself completely.

  ~ Carl Gustav Jung

  He was gone when Alison got home later that night. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but it didn’t really matter. He’d done what she’d asked. Didn’t even argue with her about it.

  She’d had an excruciating conversation with James’s parents, who were even then driving from Appleton to the Copper Country to be with their troubled son.

  Alison then went back to her office and examined James’s file, her handwritten notes, her digital dictation—anything and everything. She perused the notes and listened to her recordings trying to find something that may she’d missed. Something that if she’d been a better therapist would have helped James sooner.

  Nothing came to her. Intellectually she knew that when dealing with the human mind and mental illness, sometimes there was no help. It was a lesson taught over and over in school and in training, but it had never really sunk in.

  The logical side of her got it. The emotional, human side still struggled. She knew her empathy made her a better therapist, but God, it hurt sometimes.

  After hours in her office, she went back to the hospital and checked on James—who still wouldn’t see her. She spent an hour with her father, who was still calling her Sally.

  She knew she should stop in and see Kat, but she just couldn’t. She’d be expected to be joyful and happy for her friend—and of course she was—but there was no way she’d be able to fake it tonight. She almost swung by the nursery to see Peaches again, but knew that would only fray her raw nerves even more.

  Finally she just went home, half hoping to see that huge red truck taking up most of her garage. But no, her garage was empty, and she parked her Subaru smack dab in the middle.

  She looked in her room and saw that the bed had been stripped of the pink sheets and new, clean sheets had been put on her bed. She found the pink sheets in a bundle on top of the washer in her utility room. Did he do that himself or did whoever came to get him do it? His mother? Lizzie? It was the kind of thoughtful thing one of those two women would think of—preparing her bed so she could sleep in her own room once again.

  But she didn’t want to. Instead, she went to the guest room and spent the night there.

  It was a long time before sleep claimed her.

  ***

  The first night in his parents’ home, Petey ended up sleeping on the couch. He knew the stairs wouldn’t really be a problem, but it just seemed like too much work. His mother brought him some bedding and made up the couch for him.

  It hadn’t been too bad.

  And it wasn’t pink.

  The second night he took the couch again, but on the third, he hopped up the stairs and spent the night in his old bedroom, virtually unchanged since he’d left for the dorms at Tech. His parents had left his trophies, ribbons, and posters up on the walls. They’d even added his poster from his third year with the Red Wings when his reputation as an enforcer started to take hold.

  What were once accolades of his achievements adorning the walls and shelves now seemed like harsh reminders that he was unemployed.

  The next night he spent back on the couch again.

  He kept waiting for Alison to call, or text, or email, or something. Surely she’d seen the note he’d left her by now. He could only surmise that the words that he’d spent that whole shitty day trying to string together before he left her house for good didn’t change how she felt.

  How she’d always felt.

  She was attracted to Petey, maybe more than to any other man. But she’d never be with him for anything more than a few nights of hot sex.

  She was too smart for anything more.

  ***

  Alison met with James’s parents at her office a few days after the awful incident. They all agreed that James would be better off at home for now, and Alison referred him to a therapist in the Appleton area that she’d worked with in various studies over the years.

  “Please know that we don’t blame you,” James’s mother said. “In fact, it might have been far worse if he hadn’t been seeing you.”

  Alison shuddered to think about what she meant about the situation being worse. “Thank you for saying that.”

  His mother nodded. “James wanted me to tell you that he’s so sorry he lied to you. He said you’d know about what.”

  Alison nodded. “He told me he didn’t have any pills. But it’s not unusual for someone in James’s situation to lie to their therapist.” She knew what she said was true, but it didn’t lessen her deep feelings of hurt and self-doubt.

  “I told him he needed to apologize to you himself, but—”

  Alison cut off James’s father. “That’s not necessary. And something that you probably shouldn’t push on him at this point. He may feel some time in the future that he’d like to come back to Tech and hopefully continue therapy. I’d like to leave all doors open. And if he’s not comfortable talking to me at this point, that’s fine.”

  The mother gave the father an “I told you so” look that Alison ignored.

  They talked for a little while longer, then they left to pick up their son and take him back to Appleton. Alison wrote herself a note to call the psychologist she’d recommended and give him a heads-up about a possible call from James’s parents.

  She checked her watch and realized she was running late to meet the movers at her parents’ apartment at the Ridges. Sherry and her mother were at the house seeing them off and Alison was supposed to meet them at the new place. They’d decided not to bring their mom over until the furniture was in place. They also didn’t want their mother in a semi-empty house because of the possibility that she could become confused. As soon as the movers left, Sherry was going to take Nora to the hospital where they’d wait for Alison’s call. Then they’d get her father, who was able to leave the hospital today, and come over to the new place together.

  ***

  “Oh, look, lasagna is on the menu tonight. You both love lasagna,” Sherry said to their parents as Alison was putting the last of the groceries away in their new apartment. The furniture she’d chosen fit perfectly in the small space. She’d had the movers arrange it as closely as possible to how her parents had it in their place. Familiarity was key when dealing with dementia. She’d even arranged to have painters come in and paint the walls to match what they had at home.

  Alison looked up from where she had squatted to place the dish soap under the sink. Her father was nodding at Sherry, but Alison could tell he wasn’t sure who her sister was.

  “Lasagna does sound good,” Alison said, standing up. She put the grocery bags away in the pantry. “How about if Sherry and I stay and have dinner with you tonight?” She didn’t tell them about the last time she’d had lasagna—and ended up on her back on the kitchen table soon after.

  Her parents looked at each other and she saw the moment her father came back to them. “That’s nice of you to offer, Alison, but your mother and I would like to dine alone tonight.” He took his wife’s hand, raised it to his lips and kissed it. “Isn’t that right, Nora, darling?”

  Her mother smiled, and wove her free hand through her husband’s arm. “That’s right. It’s been a while since just the two of us had a meal together that wasn’t brought in on a hospital tray.”


  They smiled at each other, their intimacy obvious, and Alison felt like she had the morning Lizzie and Finn had brought Petey’s truck to him. Like she was intruding on someone else’s life.

  Lizzie and Finn had been married only a year. Her parents, over fifty-five. And yet they shared the same sense of ease with each other, the same twinkle in their eyes when they looked at each other.

  “Well, then, we’ll get going and let you two have a nice romantic dinner,” Sherry said, and started gathering her things.

  Alison walked over to her parents and hugged her mother and then her father. “Please don’t overdo. You just got out of the hospital and need to take it easy. An early dinner, then to bed with you,” she said to her father.

  “Yes, mother,” he teased, then tweaked her nose just like he used to do when she was a child. She turned to go, but her father pulled on her hand and she looked back to him. “It’s okay to be afraid, you know?”

  “What?” She looked around, trying to figure out what he thought she might be afraid of.

  He pulled her aside, away from her mother and Sherry. “It’s okay to be afraid to love. It’s natural for someone like you, Alison.”

  “Someone like me?” she whispered. Her body went cold. She didn’t want to hear what her father was going to say because she knew he’d probably be right.

  “Whatever it was? Whatever happened? It doesn’t have to stop you from taking a chance on love. Only you can do that. Don’t give whatever it was that kind of power.”

  The breath left her body, but she tried to laugh. “That sounds like something I’d say to a patient. Have you been watching reruns of Fraser again?”

  He didn’t chuckle at her joke, only looked at her with sadness in his eyes. “Just…just promise me you’ll listen…you’ll let him in.”

  “Daddy? Who?” But he was gone. If he’d even been there. For all she knew he could have been telling Sally to give poor Jimmy a shot.

  He was looking around the room, confused, and then he saw the La-Z-Boy that he’d sat in for the past twenty years and made his way over to settle into it. He looked at the three women and smiled, a blank and benign look on his face.