I nod several times, and Max nods in return, like he’s trying to convince himself.
“She’ll be fine. Ethel couldn’t hit a fish in a barrel. But look at the hole she made in my house!” Jack groans as he elaborately waves a hand at the house.
Another deafening blast erupts above us, and I barely catch sight of Jack cowering in surprise before Max’s body shifts over mine again, blocking my vision with his shoulder.
He slowly lifts himself so he’s crouched on his hands and feet, staring up to see the new hole a few feet from the first.
“Holy hell, Ethel, what are you doing?” Jack shouts.
A loud clamber has me wondering if Ethel’s just managed to give herself a heart attack or worse—shot herself. Seconds later, her face appears out the window, obviously stepping on something to look out. She appears unharmed, eyebrows deeply furrowed as her eyes lock on Jack. “Jack? How’d you get out there?”
“I’ve been out here. Weren’t you listenin’? I locked myself out. Had to get the neighbor kids to help me. What are you doin’ with my gun, Ethel?”
“Taking five years off my life,” I whisper, dropping a hand to my forehead and closing my eyes as I release a loud sigh.
A soft chuckle makes the hair on my arms dance with his close proximity. I open my eyes to his piercing cobalt blues inches from my own, close enough I can see the flecks of lighter and darker blue around the edges creating a mesmerizing maze of blues.
“You’re sure you’re all right? That first shot only missed you by a little over a foot. What in the hell are they doing with a shotgun?” Max’s demeanor seems to shift as he climbs to his feet. His body is rigid as his focus turns from the house to me before he shakes his head and rakes his eyes over my body several times ensuring that I’m indeed fine.
“You cut your leg.” He steps closer.
“It’s not a big deal. I can hardly feel it.” Sitting up, I look at the small gash across my shin. “Once it’s cleaned, it’ll be nothing.”
“ACE! ACE!”
I quickly stand, hearing Kyle’s voice.
“What in the hell’s going on? Are you guys okay?” His chest rises and falls with labored breaths as he stops in front of us with Caulder behind him.
The police officer is apparent in my brother-in-law as Caulder steps forward with his hand clutched to the gun holster he always wears on his right hip.
“We’re okay. It was just a misunderstanding.”
Kyle doesn’t even look at me as I try assuring him. He’s looking past me, eyes widening at the sight of the Janes’s house. His mouth opens, but words don’t come and I take the opportunity to attempt to smooth things over.
“Let’s go. I’m starving,” I lie, placing a hand on Kyle’s shoulder and the other on Caulder’s. I gently push them forward, hoping to diffuse the situation before Caulder starts issuing citations and gun safety advice.
“I’m really sorry about that, kids. She’s been hearing all these stories on the news about people breaking into homes and all the terrible ruckus they’re causing. It’s got her a little on edge.” Mr. Janes shakes his head and grimaces.
“You guys should consider mace or another form of protection ... maybe calling the police,” Caulder suggests, turning around and looking between the gun holes in the wall and to me. “You could have easily killed someone today.”
“Bye, Mr. Janes,” I call over my shoulder, giving my brothers another shove in the hopes of moving them before any of the Bosse women make their way over. They would lose it.
I can feel Kyle’s reluctance under my palms as his muscles strain against me and realize my efforts are likely futile.
“She forgot who I was. She’s not doing well. I’m fine. Really. Please, let’s not make a big deal out of this.” I keep my voice quiet so Jack can’t overhear me. He still isn’t ready to come to terms with the fact his wife is starting to have more frequent lapses caused by dementia.
Caulder’s eyes close as realization seems to register. He’d told me about responding to a call last month about an elderly lady who was found at the grocery store and couldn’t recall where she lived, only to discover it was Ethel.
“Please?” I beg.
Kyle’s eyes focus on mine for a moment, then move to Max, who looks like he’s also waging an internal battle.
I give Kyle my best pleading look. He takes a deep breath, releasing it with a quick whoosh. He wraps an arm around my shoulders and shakes his head as we make our way to the front yard. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have had you do that. It was a stupid idea. No more windows.”
“What in the hell happened?” Savannah cries, making her way down the driveway to meet us.
“The Janes’s need a hide-a-key.” I force my smile to appear genuine. “Did you guys bring your suits? Dad said he wants a rematch,” I say with practiced deflection.
“What in heaven’s name was goin’ on over there? Were those gunshots we heard? Eric thought it was just a car backfirin’, but it was so loud!” My mom rushes to us, her eyes bright as they scan over the four of us, stopping on my leg. “What happened?”
“It was nice of him to check,” Max murmurs as he walks past us and disappears into the house.
Mom and Savannah look between Kyle, Caulder, and me, waiting for an explanation.
“Apparently, she startled Mrs. Janes when she climbed through their bathroom window…” Caulder starts, his voice turning factual as it does anytime he discusses work.
“Why were you climbin’ through their window?” Mom ushers me into the house as I shoot Caulder a warning look.
“Mr. Janes locked himself out again,” Kyle answers. “I couldn’t fit, so I came and got her.” His expression is filled with guilt.
I open my mouth to assure them once again that I’m fine, but my words cease when my dad barrels into the foyer, soaking wet in his swim shorts. His eyes quickly glide over the small group of us and then close in relief. He lets out a deep breath and wipes a hand across his brow.
“Why didn’t you guys get me?” It’s not often that my dad looks angry, but right now his temper is spiked higher than we usually ever see it as he looks to my mom and sister. He turns his full attention to me. “You got shot at?”
“What?” my mom cries. “Who in God’s name shot at you? Are you all right?” My mom’s southern accent has thickened as it does anytime she gets worked up.
“It wasn’t at me,” I enunciate for clarification. “I don’t think she knew what she was doing, and I’m okay. Really.”
Generally, my dad doesn’t look much older than forty, but with the current stress etched across his face, he suddenly looks much closer to his sixty years. “What happened?”
I briefly summarize the excitement until Emily and Jade race in, both in their bathing suits, trailing a path of pool water as they giggle and squeal and latch on to my dad’s legs.
“Gampa, gampa,” Jade calls, looking up with her blonde hair matted to her bony shoulders, successfully providing interference for me.
As the others work to clean up the puddles of water and usher the girls back outside, I excuse myself to the restroom to clean my small battle wound.
“Harper, I’ve got to run. There was some kind of printing issue and things weren’t delivered to Mobile on time, and they’re about to shit a brick.” Eric appears in the doorway, eyes focused on the screen of his phone, while his thumbs rapidly trace over the keypad.
After a few moments of silence, he looks up to see me watching him.
“Babe, that’s disgusting. You’re getting blood everywhere, and your feet are filthy.” His face pinches as he remains leaning against the doorjamb.
“Yeah, why aren’t you bleeding out in the yard?” Max’s deep voice drips with sarcasm as he appears behind Eric.
Eric turns, following my gaze before stepping to the side and returning his attention to me. “What were you guys doing? Where did you go?” A hint of accusation has him tilting his chin and staring at me for a
second. “Never mind, you can tell me later, I have to go. Harper, I’ll try to call you, depending on how this all goes.”
Max doesn’t turn as Eric strides away. Instead, he steps further into the bathroom. “He just called you Harper.”
The irony that this is the second time this conversation has occurred today isn’t lost on me as I give a similar response. “It’s my name.”
Max’s eyebrows rise and then furrow. “Yeah, I just never hear anyone call you by it.” He takes a few steps closer to me. “How’s the leg?”
“It’s nothing. I just hit the side of the windowsill when I made my graceful exit.”
Max’s forehead creases, not appreciating my joke.
“Are you okay?” I ask, hopping down from the sink.
“Yeah.” His answer is automatic. “Yeah,” he repeats, sounding less sure this time as he reaches his heavily tattooed arm back and rubs it over his head a few times. The muscles in his arm and shoulder ripple with each pass. “I mean, that was just crazy. It scared the shit out of me when you fell. I thought she shot you.”
Nothing seems like an appropriate response.
He nods a couple of times, moving his gaze, wandering around the small space just as mine does, looking for a safe place to land.
“So I heard you moved back home,” I say.
“Yeah, I transferred back to San Diego Sta—”
The obnoxious continuation of a car horn breaks his sentence and attention. Max backs out of the doorway, looking over his shoulder toward the now vacant foyer.
I follow him out the front door and into the driveway in the direction of a red vintage car that emits another blare of the horn. Jameson climbs out of the driver’s seat wearing sunglasses and a wide smile.
“Asswipe, you’re lucky I was over here! What are you doing?” Max asks with a laugh, clasping a hand to Jameson’s shoulder.
“Landon made me do it. He was really excited to see you; told me he couldn’t wait another second. Besides, I knew you were over here; your mom’s been reminding you of this all week.” He smiles at me. “Hey Ace.” Then turns his attention back to Max. “I can’t believe I’ve known you for two years, and you’ve never told me about your neighbors. You’ve got some ‘splainin to do, Lucy,” he says with a horrible Spanish accent. He’s animated and goofy, leading me to wonder if he’s been drinking.
“When did you guys meet?” Max looks to Jameson.
Jameson laughs, punching Max in the bicep a couple of times. “Why? Scared?”
The passenger door of the car opens, halting conversation. A guy I presume is Landon steps out. He, like the other two, is attractive, with broad shoulders and reddish brown hair that he wears short. His red T-shirt exposes several tattoos that artfully wrap down both of his forearms, and his face is warm and inviting with bright green eyes and an infectious smile.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to let him out of the car unsupervised. I was finishing a call with my mom to let her know I arrived.” Landon’s deep, throaty laugh fills the air as he turns his attention to me.
“That’s all right. Jameson was going to make an ass of himself eventually, better to get it out of the way,” Max teases, locking his arm around Jameson’s neck in a headlock.
“Hi, I’m Landon.” He extends his hand to me.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Ace.”
A dark blue Jetta pulls up beside us, and I can feel Abby’s stare. We met last year after realizing we shared three classes and an addiction for Antonio’s Pizza House. We became pretty much inseparable after enduring our first semester finals and the hordes of hours we dedicated to them.
Being a New Jersey native, she applied to schools only on the West Coast in an attempt to gain some separation from her large extended family and any possibility of joining her family’s business—a string of bars they own along the Jersey coastline.
My family took Abby in as a sixth daughter and sister after the first weekend I convinced her to accompany me home. She then returned almost every weekend after, falling just as much in love with them as they did with her.
She opens her car door and steps out with a bright smile on her full lips. Abby’s beautiful with long, dark brown hair that falls in natural, thick waves, and honey-colored eyes. She’s a bit taller than me, at five-eight, and built slightly thicker, which she hates and blames it—and her slightly long nose—on her Scandinavian genes from her mother and the rest of any unflattering features or bad habits on her Italian genes from her father.
“Guys, dinner’s ready. Let’s go, let’s go!” Dad calls, stepping out the front door. “Hey, Abby, did you bring some friends?”
“These are Max’s friends,” I tell him. The adrenaline from the window incident is mixing dangerously with nerves from knowing these guys are all heading to my backyard for family night.
“Oh, that’s right.” Dad smiles warmly, approaching us. “Landon and Jameson, right?”
He steps closer as they return greetings and offers his hand to each of them. “Come on back. We’ve got lots of food and drinks. If you’ve got your swim shorts, we have pool basketball, but watch out…” he points to me with a wink “…this one here cheats.”
“Oh, we didn’t mean to impose, sir. We’ll go pick something up and let you guys get back to your meal,” Landon respectfully declines, and I watch Abby swoon a little as he addresses my dad so formally.
“No, no, no. You guys are expected. Just avoid the two pregnant ladies if you know what’s good for you.” Dad waves them through the front door where he pauses, waiting for Abby and me.
“I brought you a new ale. My dad says it’s the best one yet. We’ll meet you back there!”
As soon as the door closes, she leans closer to me. “Who are they?” Her words are a barely controlled whisper as she bounces on her toes, her eyes still focused on the front door. “Why have you been hiding them?”
I shake my head to conceal my laughter. “The guy with the dark hair is Sharon’s son.”
“He’s your neighbor?” she cries.
“He’s been up in Alaska for the last few years.”
“Is he visiting?”
“He moved back, I guess.”
Abby’s eyes grow wide. “Sounds like the perfect time for a reunion.”
“I barely know him. I wouldn’t doubt if this is the first and last time I see him for a while.”
“What do you mean you barely know him? He’s hot!” Her voice rises with suspicion.
I shrug, unsure of how to explain my nonexistent relationship with Max. “He never really talked to any of us.” Lifting my shoulders again, I attempt to show indifference.
“Oh good, so you’re both mental.” Pulling open her car door, Abby retrieves a paper bag which clinks as she lifts it. “If you barely know him, then what is he doing over here? And with his hot friends!”
“It’s been a really strange day,” I explain, shaking my head as the reality of the last hour plays through my mind in a quick burst of images. “Max came over with his mom. And then Kyle came to get me to see if I could fit through the Janes’s window because Mr. Janes had locked himself out, even though Ethel was still inside.”
Her chin drops with boredom as I ramble.
“Anyway, Max helped me climb through a window so I could unlock the door, but Ethel woke up and…”
Abby motions with her hands for me to get to the point. I glare at her.
“She shot at me.”
“She shot at you? With what? Hairspray?” She lifts her eyebrows, contemplating what would be used in this scenario, having seen my elderly neighbors a few times.
“No, not with hairspray!” I retort, rolling my eyes. “With a freaking shotgun.”
“You’re lying!” Abby’s eyes grow round with disbelief.
“I’m serious! My ears are still ringing, and my heart’s running a marathon.” I extend my arm out to her with my palm up for her to take my pulse.
“You’re shitting me! I can’t believe she shot a
t you! What happened?”
“Well, naturally, I gracefully fell out of the window.”
“Oh my God! Are you all right?” She eyes me scrupulously. “She shot at you and you fell out the window? Oh. My. God!”
I shake my head, motioning with my hands for her to lower her voice. “I’m fine. She missed me by a few feet, and Max caught me before I hit the ground.”
“Still!” She continues combing over me, then stops suddenly, lifting her bright and widened eyes to mine. “He’s like your hero. This is perfect!” Perfect comes out as a near squeal.
I roll my eyes at her enthusiasm and shake my head. “Max is… different.” I’m at a loss of words to explain my neighbor, so instead I close her car door and become the target of her narrowed glare.
“What?” I cry.
“I don’t know, but it just seems really odd that he’s lived next door to the five Barbies and never tried to get close to any of you.”
“I hate when you call me that.” I turn to ensure she sees my frown before continuing. “Ask Kendall. Max never paid attention to any of us, and he was in her class.”
“Come on, I want to see them again!” She tugs on my hand without further question. “Is Eric here?”
“No, he had to go. There was some sort of printing error,” I tell her, leading her through the house.
“Oh, how heartbreaking.”
She and Eric never managed to get off on the right foot. Even now, nine months later, the two can’t be in a room together without starting a petty argument.
I open the back patio door and survey the backyard. Jameson is standing beside Max and Landon, their backs toward us as they talk with Kyle and my dad. My dad’s grinning, and it’s clear by the animated way his hands are moving that he’s telling them a story.
Jade and Emily splash in the pool while Mindi sits in a lawn chair nearby, devouring what’s left of her marshmallows, and Savannah munches on tortilla chips at the patio table.
“This will be ready in about ten minutes, ma moitié.” My dad makes eye contact with my mom from where he’s moved beside the grill.
“Okay, let’s do introductions really fast!” Mom says, evoking a groan from Mindi.
The Fallback Page 40