Feels Like Falling

by Kristy Woodson Harvey

  Marcy twirled her finger by her head, signifying that my sister was cra-zy. Diana cocked her head, peered at Quinn, and said, “Remind me never to ask you to babysit.”

  “Quinn,” I said. “For goodness’ sake. You stabbed the man with scissors?”

  She rolled her eyes and hopped down off the counter. “It was three stitches, Gray, and it was self-defense. He’s fine.”

  “Anyway…” Diana said, “maybe instead of talking about Breaking Amish over here, we could talk a little bit about my wedding plans.”

  And we did. All afternoon long. We talked about music and flowers and tents, and Diana hadn’t thought she wanted a wedding, but you could tell by the flash in her eyes that the more we planned and the more ideas we had, the more she was in love with the thought of celebrating in this very magical way.

  And, as excited as I was about my date that night, I couldn’t lie to myself about the fact that when I pictured myself in Diana’s shoes, I couldn’t really see Price standing at the other end of the aisle.

  * * *

  When Pinterest was first introduced and Greg and I were trying to grow our platform for ClickMarket, we used to have a weekly competition. We’d each pick five pins and bet which one would get the most likes and re-pins that week. Loser had to buy the entire staff drinks on Friday night.

  Having drinks that night with Price, I remembered that, like those long-ago competitions with Greg, I had bet Marcy that I wouldn’t bring Price home. After laughing through two-thirds of dinner, I thought this might be a bet I was willing to lose. There was something totally magnetic about Price, and it was like everyone around him was attracted to it. It wasn’t unadulterated good looks. It was something more than that.

  He was perfect for me, and it had taken only a few hours to figure that out. We could get married and blend our families and be totally happy together—except for one thing: Andrew’s harsh words had shaken me. But I guessed this was what the aftermath of a breakup was like.

  Price was saying, “I have this work trip in Valle Crucis next week, and I’d love it if you could get away and come with me.”

  I smiled. “September is the perfect time in the mountains.”

  He nodded. “Gorgeous weather. Not too hot, not too cold.”

  “Don’t you think it’s sort of early to go away together? I mean, I have practically no dating experience, but aren’t there rules about these kinds of things?”

  He took a sip of his wine and grinned. “Oh, you mean because we haven’t slept together yet?” He winked. “I was planning on remedying that tonight.”

  I laughed. “Oh, you were, were you? But see, here’s the thing. I know about the three-date rule, and this is most definitely only our second by my calculations.”

  He leaned over and took my hand. “But, see, here’s the thing. Drinks and jail count as…” He picked up my hand and put up one of my fingers, then another, then kissed them.

  Swoon. “Well then, I can’t argue with that.”

  He looked shocked. “That worked? Where’s the waitress? Let’s get out of here!”

  I smacked him lightly on the arm. “No, it did not work. Where is this trip?”

  “The Mast Farm Inn in Valle Crucis. Maybe in one of those private cabins.”

  I made my most delighted face. “I’ll have to check with Greg to make sure it works for Wagner’s schedule, but, sir, I kindly accept your invitation, if you don’t think it’s a little much to go away with a woman you’ve met twice.”

  He nodded and said seriously, “Who has a violent criminal as a sister.”

  We both laughed, but it crossed my mind that he wasn’t totally wrong. She had stabbed someone. With scissors.

  Price took another sip of wine and said, “Gray, you’re beautiful. How anyone could let you go, I’ll never know. Truly, you’re all I can think about.”

  And just like that, happily ever after, the sequel, was under way.

  diana: an institution

  I didn’t know if Gray was trying to punish me or help me, but it was very clear that she was avoiding the guesthouse. I’d seen her pull in and out of the driveway three or four different times, and she hadn’t come to check on me once. Oh, I’d get her back for this.

  “This one?” Trey asked, holding up a Sanitary Fish Market T-shirt.

  I could feel my mouth gaping. “Now, you listen here. The Sanitary is an institution.”

  He dropped the T-shirt into a garbage bag. “It has cigarette holes in it.”

  “Well, yeah. I had to put my cigarette out on Larry one night when—”

  “No. Done,” Trey said. “Do you hear yourself? These aren’t happy memories to cherish. We should burn these things in a fire so no other unsuspecting person gets harmed by their negative energy.”

  I crossed my arms and sat down on the couch across from the closet, pouting. To his credit, Trey had hung in there with me for fourteen T-shirts so far. He’d only let me keep the last one, and that was because I convinced him that the girls and me had actually gone to a Wilson Phillips concert and that had nothing to do with some guy.

  Trey turned to me. “Diana, I don’t think I can,” then he sang: “ ‘hold on for one more day.’ ”

  We both laughed, but then he got serious. “There’s no room for your horrible past in your fabulous new future.”

  Then he pulled out a J-B Weld T-shirt, and I almost forgot I was pregnant. But I remembered in the nick of time and didn’t throw myself on it. Instead, I grabbed one sleeve and Trey was holding the other. “I won’t let this one go!” I shouted.

  “Oh, yes you will,” he groaned.

  We looked like we were playing some kind of tug-of-war, Trey trying to get the shirt in the bag and me trying to save it.

  Frank’s voice calling, “What in the world is going on here?” broke us out of our feud. We both dropped the shirt like it was on fire and said, “Nothing!” right at the same time.

  Frank walked over and picked up the shirt. “Man, I haven’t seen this in forever.”

  Trey ran his hand through his hair. “Fine. That one you can keep.”

  I smiled victoriously.

  “Trey is helping me pack,” I said.

  “Is he?” Frank asked.

  I glared at Trey, and he glared right back at me. Frank picked up a box and turned around, and Trey whispered, “You’ll thank me one day, crazy lady.”

  Trey picked up another box as Gray finally made her appearance at the top of the stairs; he scooted by her, saying, “She’s all yours. I’m exhausted.”

  Gray laughed and sat down beside me. “So, it’s really happening, huh?”

  I nodded. “Gray, I can’t tell you what these last few months—”

  She put her hand up. “It’s too much for me today, Di. I can’t handle it.”

  “In that case, can I ask you something?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, Kevin is almost finished with the construction on the Barnacle.” That was what we had decided to name my new restaurant, because it sort of looked like it was growing on the dock.

  “Di! Why didn’t you tell me? That’s amazing.” She looked genuinely thrilled.

  “I’m good on everything up until now, but I need just a few thousand dollars to finish with the kitchen outfit and permitting and all that.”

  “Anything you need, Di.”

  It had taken a lot for me to ask her, but I just knew that Gray would support me. “Well, five thousand would really put me where I need to be.”

  “I’ll write you a check right now.”

  “No!” I interjected before she could move. “You don’t understand. I’m asking you for a loan. I want to write it up with a schedule for interest and payments and all of that.”

  She shook her head. “Absolutely not. I owe you so much, D. I wouldn’t be here without you. Let this be my wedding gift to you.”

  She tried to stand up, and I put my hand on her arm to stop her. I looked her in the eye and said, “Please, Gray.
I need one thing in the world that is all my own, that no one can ever take away from me. I wouldn’t let Frank give me the money, and I won’t let you do it either. If you won’t do this my way, then I’ll have to figure something else out.”

  She smiled. I knew she would understand. “I can’t think of anything better, Diana. I am seriously so proud of you, and I will be your first customer on opening day.” She paused, and I knew there was more that she wanted to say. “What will I do without you?”

  “Geez, I don’t know.” I’d been training my replacement, and she was not up to my standards, to say the least. “Harriet can’t clean a glass shower door to save her life. I keep showing her over and over. Bar Keepers Friend, sponge, rinse, glass spray, wipe dry, but her shower doors just don’t look like mine.”

  “No one will ever replace you, Diana. Ever.”

  I knew she didn’t want to talk about it, so I didn’t say it. But no one could ever replace Gray either.

  CHAPTER 20

  gray: that bullet

  I’d followed the Mast Farm Inn on Twitter for years, so I knew already that it was the perfect place for an impromptu getaway. I’d pictured Price and me holding hands driving through the mountains, taking a leisurely road trip. When we parked at the airport, needless to say, I realized that picture wasn’t going to develop.

  My hand-holding visions were instantly replaced by those of us plummeting out of the sky and onto the highway.

  “You’re kidding, right?” I asked as Price walked up to a tiny four-seater plane.

  “No, I am not kidding.” He tipped a fake hat. “Best pilot on the East Coast. This will be my second flight.” He grinned.

  I started to walk away, and he laughed. “Come on, Gray, I do this twice a week. And the plane has an emergency parachute.”

  I hadn’t wanted to come on this trip at all once I found out that Brooke and Greg were going to the British Virgin Islands for their wedding planning trip. I had said to Diana, “Really? Who goes away to ‘plan’ their wedding? And the BVIs? Couldn’t they have picked somewhere a little more original, like, not where we went on our second honeymoon?”

  She had just rolled her eyes. “If you’re trying to get out of your own trip, it isn’t going to work. You’ve given up just about enough for Greg.”

  Quinn, who had her head in the fridge, said, “Come on, Gray. I’m here. I’ll keep Wagner.”

  Diana and I had shared a terrified look, and she mouthed: I’ll stay here the whole time.

  I had nodded. Ever since, she and Wagner had been plotting every time I came in the room. I was pretty sure it was just about how they were going to make pizza, but still. He loved her, and she loved him. Wagner and I were both going to take it really hard when Diana left for good.

  Now, on the tarmac, Price was saying, “Wait. How much do you weigh? I need to make sure we can still take off.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  We landed an hour later in one piece, and it sure beat the pants off of the seven-hour drive.

  A car awaited us at the airport, and we arrived at the Mast Farm to lunch. Wine and the first course, soup made from vegetables from the farm, were already waiting for us.

  “Wow,” I said. “This is great. So, what kind of work do you have to do tomorrow?”

  “Let’s see. I thought I’d start the day with a stack of pancakes and fresh sausage here, then take a long hike with my favorite girl.” He winked at me.

  I nodded. “Your job sounds pretty great. Where do I apply?”

  “Did I say this was a work trip?”

  “You did.”

  “Ohhhh. I guess I should have specified that it was more of a ‘work on getting Gray to fall in love with me’ sort of trip than an actual ‘things for the office’ trip.”

  I laughed. He looked me in the eye, and I said, “Well, I’d say so far, so good.”

  “So do you think we should just bite the bullet?”

  I looked at him inquisitively. “What bullet would that be?”

  “Families. Sad stories. Yada yada yada.”

  “Oh… that bullet.” That was a bullet I was hoping to avoid for a little longer, pretend it was just us hanging out like we were fifteen and this was all fun.

  “You first,” I said.

  “Okay. CliffsNotes?”

  I swallowed a sip of wine and said, “Definitely.”

  He took a deep breath. Here we go. “Ex-wife, Kate. Went back to get her master’s. She found a love of Italian literature, and I found her in the back of her Suburban with her Italian literature professor.”

  “Ew.”

  “You have no idea. Those Italian men…” He cocked his head and squinted as if trying to erase a memory. “Anyway… Anna, twelve. Adorable. Perfect. Slept through the night at four weeks old. Never needs anyone to check her homework. Jackson, ten. Athletic. Disorganized. Slept through the night… well, we’re still waiting. Thinks his floor is a depository for sweaty soccer socks.”

  I was laughing so hard I thought I might choke. But my stomach turned over at the mere thought of attempting to mishmash a bunch of families together.

  He smiled. “It’s your turn. I told you my sad story.”

  I sighed. “Fine. Greg traded in his Suburban with the TVs in the headrests”—I pointed at myself—“for a Maserati with the top down.”

  Price nodded.

  “Wagner. About to turn nine. The love of my life. I only technically have him every other week, but I made my ex move next door so I can see him every day no matter whose week it is.” It sounded better when I framed it like that instead of that I had somehow gotten swindled into it by Brooke.

  “You want more?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not opposed to it, but I’m not married to it either.” I paused. “Wait. More time or more babies?”

  He laughed. “Babies.”

  “Oh, okay. Do you want more babies?”

  “I think the world is made for even numbers. Four children seems right.”

  That was funny. Marcy always said the world was made for even numbers too.

  The rest of the day passed just as gloriously, hiking in the mountains and perusing Blowing Rock’s charming downtown.

  The one chink in the armor? A harmless-seeming beep from my cell phone. One little beep. Or maybe it wasn’t the beep so much as what it signified. I’m sorry about last week. I meant what I said, but I shouldn’t have gotten so mad at you. I really do hope you find what you’re looking for.

  My heart sank.

  “What’s up?” Price asked.

  “Nothing,” I said casually.

  I was all ready for our dinner, hair fixed, makeup on, and dressed. Price, with his mussed hair and goofy grin, had just woken up from a nap.

  I kissed him, trying to erase that text message from my brain. “Hey,” I said, “I’m going to go for a quick walk around the property while you get spiffy for dinner.”

  He wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled my neck. “Don’t you want to just order room service?”

  “You have been so excited about this tasting menu,” I said. “I’m not going to let you miss that.”

  “What I’m excited about is you. I don’t care a thing about what I eat.”

  I shrugged. “Shame to waste this dress?”

  He nodded. “Oh yes.”

  I smiled and kissed him. He was so damn cute. But I felt like something was missing. And I felt like I needed some air. “Perfect.”

  I did need to call and check on Wagner. Afterward, I sat down on a bench by the small farm, rubbing my arms against the chilly night air. In a cabin over there was a man I couldn’t have even dreamed up, he was so right for me. So why did I feel so conflicted? I watched the sun as it made its descent, so gloriously beautiful that it blocked out the confusion in my head.

  My mother never missed a sunset. She loved them all. I sighed. She would have known what to do in this situation. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what she would have told me. She would have loved Pric
e. He was son-in-law material.

  But this was ultimately my decision; I was on my own now. Andrew’s I hope you find what you’re looking for kept running through my mind.

  Half an hour later, Price ordered the Mast Farm’s finest champagne, and I couldn’t help but be taken with him, not because he could order fine champagne, but because he was this walking billboard for don’t take yourself too seriously and seize the day. He had come to me when I needed to be reminded of both.

  “Let’s order for each other,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Let’s order for each other, so we’ll try something new. Okay?”

  I smiled. “Yeah, sure. Sounds fun.”

  That was what I meant. He made me laugh; he gave me butterflies—and all I could think about was Andrew. I thought about how Andrew would catch my eye and wink when we were across a crowded room, how, when he was near me, he always had a hand or an arm on me, how he always got me a glass of water before bed and set his alarm for ten minutes earlier than he had to get up so that we could have those first few minutes of the day to just be together. He made me feel protected and, what’s more, totally adored. And I let myself consider, for the first time without batting the thought away, that maybe Andrew and I were something more than just a summer fling.

  Price was laughing, and I sighed. “We really are perfect for each other, aren’t we, Price?”

  I could see his face fall as he said, “Why do I get the feeling that this isn’t going to end with ‘Let’s go back home, sign a prenup and make an ‘ours’ baby’?”

  I laughed. “An ‘ours’ baby?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah. You know, like Yours, Mine and Ours.”

  “I’m entirely too young to understand that cultural reference.”

  “Oh… okay,” he said sarcastically. “So, what’s the deal? Why is our match-made-in-heaven going to hell?” He grinned, but there was a sort of sadness behind it.

  I shook my head and looked down at the table. “It’s so stupid,” I said under my breath.

  He sat up straighter. “Is it my table manners? Because I’ve had complaints before, but I can work on it.” He put his elbow on the table and reached for his wineglass, winking at me.