For All the Evers

by Debra Anastasia

  After two cups of water were steaming, Adelaide went about making the rest of the snack. Fallen went through the motions of tidying up. She was desperate to page through the photo albums for more pictures of Thomas, though that project was likely off the table for now.

  After Marquette had her snack and tea, she kept up the small-talk banter Adelaide seemed to be enjoying. Fallen could see her hopes for more time with Adelaide’s photo albums were not going to realized, and since today wasn’t an official cleaning day, there was really no reason to stay, but she found herself dragging her feet.

  When it became too awkward to hang around any longer, Fallen poked her head into the kitchen to say goodbye. Marquette insisted on walking her out, which Fallen understood would be their chance to speak openly.

  Marquette didn’t even try with small talk. She crossed her arms in front of her and looked Fallen up and down on the front porch before asking, “Why did you unplug the oven, and why are you here on a Sunday?”

  Fallen tucked her hands into the pockets of her coat. “About that…”

  “I’m all ears. I’m very interested in why the most important part of your job—keeping us informed—you failed to do.” Marquette squinted.

  Fallen waited a beat, trying to convince herself the woman wasn’t being combative right off the bat.

  When Marquette had nothing else to say, Fallen offered her observations. “You hired me over the phone. I have no background with elderly clients, which you knew, and I didn’t want to jump the gun. And before you judge me, understand that I stop by every day to check on her, even Sunday. She’s doing okay, but she’s been scared you and I would have this very conversation. The last few days, though, she’s forgotten a few things that do warrant some communication between us. I promise I was planning to let you know.” Fallen took a breath and waited.

  Marquette’s demeanor became less confrontational, and she let her hands fall to her sides. “I didn’t realize…”

  “I figured as much. This can’t be easy. No one wants to take away her independence. But of course she has to be safe. I was going to recommend that you come in person to visit her.”

  “I thought maybe you hid the fact that she was having trouble so the paycheck would keep rolling in. I know you’re in the neighborhood.” Marquette couldn’t seem to stop herself from laying the guilt at Fallen’s feet, with an extra helping of noting she was broke on top. The neighborhood was in a serious decline. And Fallen fought every day to keep a place in it for her and Fenn.

  “Maybe don’t assume the worst of everyone,” she said with a shrug. “Maybe go back inside and be with your mom.” Fallen started down the front walk.

  “Wait. I’m sorry… I just, I know I should have stopped this sooner. It was just easier…”

  Fallen took a few more steps toward the sidewalk.

  Marquette called after her, “Will you be back on Tuesday?”

  Fallen shook her head, turning. “I’ll be back tomorrow to say hello to her. Like usual.”

  ···

  Back at home, Fallen had barely hung up her coat when there was a knock on the door.

  She opened it hesitantly. There were so few people she wanted to see on the other side.

  Nora didn’t say hello, but she searched Fallen’s face with her gaze as if she cared how tired she might be. Fallen shook her head; she knew what Nora really wanted—and it wasn’t to make sure her daughter was getting enough sleep. She sighed and stepped to the side. Nothing good would come from letting her mother into the house, but her heart had a tough time sliding on the boxing gloves.

  “You all right, Fally?”

  Fallen knew Addiction would try anything to get what it wanted, but pulling out the nickname Nora had used for Fallen as a child was a low blow.

  “I’ve been better, Nora. Life has gotten a little more depressing even than usual these last few days. And now I’m trying to decide which angle you’re going to try to use to get money for alcohol when what I’d love—not that you care—would be to brag about how great Fenn did at his football game last night.”

  Fallen’s phone rang in her purse, and she answered it quickly, keeping her eye on her sticky-fingered mother while she listened to Fenn ask if she was feeling any better and remind her he was on his way to his coach’s basement with the rest of the team for dinner.

  She assured him she was fine, and then Nora took the phone with grabby hands. She started in with the accolades and peppered him with questions like she cared about his answers.

  Eventually Fallen gave her the universal sign for wrap it up. She wasn’t running a phone booth, and every pre-paid minute had a price. She took back her phone the moment Nora hit the end button, before she could start searching it for information.

  As she turned to put the phone away, Nora grabbed her wrist.

  “I need to be honest with you. This is such a bad time for me. I really need to get a little relief. I tried. Honest to God, I tried to stop all at once, but then Fritz dumped me, and I wanted to get my full-time job back and help you with the mortgage, and Fritz was cheating on me, and—never let them cheat on you, baby. This is what happens. Men use women. Get the best years of your life, and then they leave you, and you can’t trust anyone, and I can stop, and I will stop as soon as it make sense. But now is not the time, and I’ve followed you. I know you think that old bat two streets over is your new mother—is she replacing me?”

  Fallen walked to the stairs and sat on them, putting the phone to her forehead. Being in Addiction’s sights was exhausting.

  Her mother rattled on—anything to get what Addiction wanted. False gods. Lies. Promises that had no meaning.

  “Nora.”

  Her mother continued, seeming to speak louder since Fallen’s eyes hadn’t yet registered any compassion.

  “Nora.”

  “And I’ll tell you something else, I’m the only mother you’re ever going to get—”

  Fallen stood and stepped close to her mother’s traitorous face. How dare it be such a part of the good memories of her childhood yet hold no comfort for her now?

  “Mother.” Nora fell silent when Fallen used a word she hadn’t in months. Maybe years. “I’m taking care of myself and Fenn. That’s all I can do. You need a program or something, but I’m just hanging on by the skin of my teeth. I can’t take your problems onto my back, too.”

  Her mother started to interrupt. Fallen held up her hand. “You need to focus this considerable determination to get what you want on someone else. Not me. And not Fenn. Like I told you before, this house is closed to you. I’m closed to you. He’s closed to you. My money is not for you. I don’t know how many different ways to tell you this without actually picking you up and throwing you out of here.”

  A second knock on the door stopped Fallen’s monologue. She wasn’t getting anywhere anyway. Addiction’s desperate fire had such a firm hold on Nora; Fallen’s presentation of reason and logic was as pointless as washing dirt out of cotton candy.

  “Come on, Nora. You can answer the door on your way out.” Fallen made an elaborate gesture to encourage her mother to follow to her direction.

  Reluctantly, Nora opened the door, and then her demeanor changed again. Fallen could tell from the flirtatious sway of her mother’s hips and the breathy hello that Mr. Orbit was on the front door step before she saw him.

  He gave a self-depreciating chuckle and stepped over to look at Fallen from around the door. “Ladies, I hope I’m not interrupting.”

  Her mother went all Scarlett O’Hara on his ass. “Absolutely not. My daughter and I were just discussin’ some female topics, you know—getting our hair done and such.”

  That wasn’t even how Nora talked.

  “I’m sure.” Orbit couldn’t have been more cordial.

  They both turned to look at Fallen when she sighed and interrupted their performance.

  She saw it then—the resemblance between Orbit and Nora. Desperation had quite a grip on both of them. E
ach sought answers from her. She had nothing left to give either of them.

  “Well, I’ll leave you two to it,” Nora said, suddenly willing to go. “Don’t stay up too late. Hey, little girl, where’s your brother tonight?”

  “I’m not telling you where Fenn is so you can go hit him up for money.”

  Nora stumbled at her harsh answer. “Well, I just…”

  Her cheeks flushed, and Fallen felt a flicker of remorse. Mr. Orbit offered her mother his hand, and she padded down the front steps.

  Fallen watched with her arms folded in front of her.

  Orbit leaned down and whispered to Nora before slickly passing her a bill. Nora first pretended she wouldn’t take it, and Fallen swallowed her own protest. If Mr. Orbit wanted to turn his money into alcohol, that was his choice. At least Nora would leave Fenn alone for tonight.

  The transaction complete, Nora patted Lad’s arm and then hugged him awkwardly. But she was on the move now, desperate to get to a bar or a liquor store, so there was no lollygagging. Fallen looked at her feet so she didn’t have to watch Addiction get what it wanted.

  Mr. Orbit’s shoes shuffled against the cement as he climbed the front stairs. Fallen a watched as the tips of his fancy leather loafers almost drew close enough to touch her worn boots.

  “I tipped her for helping bring about your show-stopping face,” Orbit explained, inadvertently adding fuel to Fallen’s emotional fire. She hated being his pawn.

  “She’ll use every dime to drink until she passes out. Which takes a lot nowadays.”

  She pegged him with a hard stare just as he reached up, maybe to touch her face. Her words seemed to put his hand in his jacket pocket instead. He changed topics rather than apologizing like he should have.

  “I heard Fenn did great last night.”

  She left the silence between him. From one battle to the next.

  “Desta’s not doing very well,” he offered after a moment.

  And that was the one topic that could break down the hasty wall Fallen had built and drag her from the depth of one sadness to another.

  “What? I just saw her the other day. What did the doctor say?”

  He looked into the distance above her head. “Maybe a month left. Her cancer is aggressive. Now’s a good time for hospice, but she has to decide if she wants to go home for care or if it’s better to stay in the hospital.”

  Fallen held the door, feeling herself lose a bit of steam.

  Orbit reached out again, and Fallen noticed his hand shaking a bit. “I’m sorry—I should have delivered that better. I just…I just came from the hospital. And I’m not sure what to do next.”

  Fallen shook her head.

  This man was the most frustrating part of her dreams and the scariest part of her waking days. She wasn’t letting him get her alone with this sadness.

  “I understand that your relationship with Desta is complicated. I recommend making the most of your time with her,” she said. “I’ll visit her tomorrow after work. Thank you for understanding that I need privacy as my comfort during this difficult time.” And then Fallen closed the door on him.

  She breathed out and almost laughed at her amazingly coherent dismissal. She leaned against the door and waited for more knocking or a crash of glass—expecting his temper to get the best of him. But instead, his retreating footsteps were followed by the sound of his fancy car pulling away.

  Fallen silently thanked Desta for all that she’d shared with her about Mr. Orbit and room 514. Poor Desta. And poor Burt. Would they find their way to being together again?

  And how in God’s name would she manage to see Thomas again if her partner in crime was so very sick?

  Fallen looked to the ceiling. She had to power forward. That’s how she was built. When life tossed insurmountable challenges at her, she put her head down and made things work. There was no time for wallowing, only action. Thomas needed her to be his dream girl, Fenn needed an adult that could provide, and Desta and Adelaide both needed a friend. She would be all those things.

  Chapter 20

  Possible

  Getting a hotel room clean was starting to be something Fallen didn’t have to think about. She’d developed a routine that made sense and hit all the essential spots. This came in handy, because she had to go over to see Adelaide today, if only to save face. Fallen shoved her obsession with the photo albums as far down as she could and focused on potential things to say to Adelaide. Who knew what Marquette had told her after Fallen was gone. She had put a serious smack down on that woman yesterday. The anxiety it should have caused her hardly registered.

  But when Fallen managed to trudge over to Adelaide’s on Monday afternoon, she found no one home. She wondered how possible it would be to break in and steal the photo album that held Thomas’ picture. Then her mind started turning. Adelaide had to be related to Thomas. Had she been his wife?

  Anything was possible.

  Nothing was possible.

  Fallen jotted a quick “I was here” note on the back of a receipt from her purse and tucked it in the screen door.

  She’d showed up, and that had to count. She vowed to reach out to Marquette again, but right now there was another moment she needed to be present in. Fallen rode the bus to the hospital and sat next to Desta, holding her hand while she slept. Desta might not have a family to send her positive energy, but she had people who loved her, and Fallen considered herself one of them.

  ···

  Ellen had gone. Now Adelaide was missing. She’d failed to connect with Thomas last week. Numb from so much loss, and bracing for more to come, Fallen had arrived at work on Tuesday, put her head down, and done her job. She and the others didn’t have to pitch in on Desta’s floor anymore because there was a new hire who seemed to know her way around a cleaning cart pretty damn well.

  The word today had been that Desta didn’t want visitors; she was just too weak. This left Fallen completely adrift. Only Desta understood her crazy situation and its emotional toll. Though they hadn’t spoken, Fallen had felt better after sitting with Desta last night.

  No one mentioned Mr. Orbit, though she’d watched his Jaguar drive past her on the way home last night, and she was fairly sure it had just passed her again as she turned toward Adelaide’s. Marquette had still not returned her email or the voice message she’d left, and Fallen’s heart lurched as she saw Adelaide’s house dark and quiet, with no response at the door for the second day in a row. Fear raced through her as she considered the possibility that Adelaide had been injured, but looking through the windows, she could see nothing out of the ordinary.

  On Wednesday Fallen made sure to speed through her rooms so she could get over to see Desta after work. She didn’t care what “the word” was; she was going to be a good friend. She took the bus and noticed Lad’s fancy car in the hospital parking lot when she arrived.

  How could she get him to leave her and Thomas alone in the dream? Their time together was short—if she could even get to the dream this week. And would Thomas still be there? Had he already passed away?

  All this was so completely nerve-wracking that she had shoved her concerns away inside her head just to function. When she got to Desta’s floor, visiting hours were almost over. The nurse checked the list and found Fallen’s name on it, so she was waved through to follow the woman’s quiet shoes down the hallway. As they approached, she heard a distinct voice coming from Desta’s room. Mr. Orbit droned on until the nurse interrupted him as she opened the door and announced Fallen. He stood and nodded at her.

  Fallen thanked the nurse and leveled Orbit with a stare. The loss of Thomas, the loss of everything, really, made her bold.

  “I finished all my work—if that’s what you’re thinking.” She looked from him to Desta.

  The woman was strapped into an oxygen mask with an IV dripping something into her arm. The veil of pain around her almost shrouded her eyes. Fallen felt her hard shell soften.

  “Oh, Desta.” She walked over to
squeeze the woman’s hand gently.

  “I’ll leave you two to it. I need to stretch my legs.” Orbit walked out, but managed to put his hand on her lower back as he passed her.

  Desta pointed to the chair.

  There was a lot Desta didn’t have to say. Her hand had been cold. Her lips had a blue tinge. Even her skin was suffering from the lack of adequate oxygen in her system.

  Fallen’s hopes of getting any advice or information from Desta also ran out of oxygen. Every breath was a struggle, and that was a fight she couldn’t add to, not even for Thomas.

  But Desta pulled the mask away from her mouth and clearly had a message to give Fallen. “Don’t…tell Burt…about this… About me.”

  Fallen felt her eyebrows lift in surprise. “But—”

  Desta’s ragged breath made Fallen’s hands itch to cover her face with the mask again, let her get some air.

  “No death… Only forever.”

  Desta replaced the oxygen mask, but it was a bit askew. Fallen stood and adjusted it for the exhausted woman.

  “I hear you,” she assured her. “It’s okay. I think you and Burt will be together in the next life. You know what? I know you will. Everything happens for a reason—and this, me and Thomas? It was a way to let you know Burt was still waiting.”

  Desta nodded. And her eyes grew sleepy.

  Fallen kissed her forehead and carefully covered her cold hands with the thin hospital blanket.

  Orbit returned to the room. Fallen didn’t have to see him to know he was behind her. He had a force like a black hole, an energy that drained everything else around him.

  She turned to face him, and he looked past her.

  “Nice to see her calm. She’s been agitated.”

  Fallen put her hands in her pockets. “She needs a warmer blanket; her hands are cold.”

  “It’s part of what she has going on. I have an electric blanket over there, but we can only use it a little. She’s having trouble regulating her temperature.” He shrugged. “I wish I could do more. She’s like family to me.”

  Fallen squinted at him. He let this woman clean hotel rooms when he was clearly rich enough to take care of her. “You should have let her just live in one of the rooms. She could have bossed us all around.”