When We Fell

by Elena Aitken

  Annie laughed and shook her head. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go?”

  “Why? You don’t think I can handle a few plants?”

  “It’s not that. It’s just…okay.” She nodded. “I don’t think you can handle a few plants. Picking planter flowers can be harder than you might think. You’ll want something tall and something that will cascade over the edges. Some will need to be shade flowers, but the ones over there,” she pointed to some of the planters, “those will need to be sun tolerant. It’s actually quite a lot of work.”

  Ben shrugged. “How hard could it be? Really?”

  Annie tilted her head. “If you want, I can—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He waved her away. “It can’t possibly be that hard. I’ll run over and get some things.”

  Ten minutes later, Ben stood in Petal Pushers, the local flower shop, his eyes glazed over. He stared at a variety of cut flowers and potted plants, none of which looked like they’d be suitable for his planters. Tentatively, he stepped forward and reached out to a rose.

  White.

  Just like the ones that had been at Eric’s memorial. Just like the ones they’d each held and placed one by one in front of his picture.

  Ben’s breath caught in his throat, his breath gone momentarily from his lungs.

  “Can I help you with something?”

  He exhaled hard and dropped the rose he’d been holding at the sound of the voice. He spun around to see a young blonde woman holding something that resembled a fern in one hand, and a pair of scissors in the other.

  “I’m looking for something for my planters.” He bent to pick up the rose. “I’m not sure if—”

  “No.” She shook her head. “That’s not for a planter. That’s for a vase.”

  Or a funeral, he thought, but instead asked out loud, “What’s the difference?”

  She laughed and Ben couldn’t help but smile along with her, the memories of the roses and the memorial fading with the sound. The woman stepped past him and gestured to the buckets of flowers where he’d found the rose. “Well, this one is cut already, so you could put it in a vase of water, but if you put it in a planter, well…”

  “I see.” He nodded, feeling more than a little out of his depth. “So, could you suggest something for my planters? I’m afraid I really don’t have a clue where to start here.”

  “You don’t say?” She winked at him, put her scissors down and extended her hand. “I’m Calla,” she introduced herself. “I don’t think we’ve ever met, but you’re Ben Ross, right?”

  He nodded and smiled. “I am. How did you—”

  “I’ve been to the Log and Jam.” She shrugged. “And…well…I’m sorry about your brother.”

  He nodded. “Thank you. He was a great man.”

  She smiled kindly, and Ben appreciated that she didn’t further the discussion. “If you come out back with me, I’m sure we can find something for your planters.” She led the way through the store, out to the back where long greenhouse tents were set up. There were huge pots of flowers and trees, and more plants and flowers than Ben considered possible.

  “Wow.” He rubbed a hand through his dark hair and pulled at the roots a little. “I have no idea where to start.”

  “Don’t worry,” Calla said. “That’s my job. Tell me about your space and the size of the planters you’re trying to fill and I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

  Over an hour later, Ben was pretty sure he had more than he needed. They’d filled the back of his truck with a variety of different plants and bright, beautiful flowers. There were bags of soil and fertilizer and Calla had even sketched out planting diagrams so Ben would know exactly where to plant each thing. He was still very much overwhelmed, but at least now he had some semblance of a plan.

  “I still think it’s too much,” he said again to Calla as he handed her his credit card. “And I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it look as good as you seem to think it will, but—”

  “They’re going to look great,” she assured him. “And if you’re really not sure what to do, I don’t mind coming by. I could give you a hand, if you’d like. It is a pretty big job.”

  “You’d do that?”

  He watched while she finished running his credit card and handed him the slip to sign. She was younger than him, to be sure. But she was cute and funny and he’d had a much better time picking plants than he could have imagined he would.

  “Of course.” She winked. “I had fun helping you, and I can tell you’ll need all the help you can get actually getting everything planted.”

  Was she flirting with him?

  He had no idea. But he did know that she was right. He would need all the help he could get. “I’d actually really appreciate that.”

  “Great. Tomorrow morning work for you?” She beamed at him. “I don’t open up till eleven tomorrow, so I can be there by eight. It should be enough time to get it all done.”

  “Sounds great. I’ll see you then.” He took his receipt from her. There was a little flicker of pride in his belly. He was doing just what he told Evan he was going to do; he’d just made a date. Even if it had felt wrong in a way he couldn’t begin to describe.

  Chapter Four

  It had taken Drew the better part of the afternoon, and the rest of the evening after she picked up Austin from school, but she’d made huge progress. Austin had been delighted to unpack the boxes for her. He said it was like Christmas but better because he’d missed all of their stuff.

  With his help, they managed to drag a number of boxes into the house so she could properly sort through her things. She’d hammered in nails and hung up pictures, put out vases and other mementos, and also repacked a number of boxes full of items to donate.

  There was still a lot of work to do, but the house was finally starting to look like a home. The cushions brought in a splash of color, and although the walls were still a stark white, it would be an easy fix with a can of paint or some fun, bold drapes. She’d even put the trout pillow on the couch, just the way Eric would have liked.

  After she tucked Austin into bed, Drew poured herself a glass of wine and contemplated how she should spend the rest of her evening. She’d earned herself a little relaxing on the couch in front of the television, but something stopped her from zoning out with Netflix. She was on such a roll that maybe she might just have enough energy to tackle one particular room that she’d been avoiding for too long.

  Before she could change her mind, Drew took her glass of wine and walked down the short hall to the door that had remained closed for the last few months. To her surprise, the usual hurt and feeling of foreboding as she put her hand on the door handle wasn’t there. And when she stepped through the door into the room where Eric had spent his last few weeks, she was remarkably okay.

  Maybe it was true that time healed all things.

  Or maybe it was because the room was mostly empty. The hospital bed they’d rented had long since been returned, so the only pieces of furniture were a few chairs, a bookshelf, and the bedside table that had been covered in Eric’s pills and medicines. If she was being truthful, that was the part of the room she’d been avoiding.

  The pills and medicines had long since been disposed of but it was what was inside the table that made Drew’s stomach clench. But she couldn’t avoid it forever. She took a sip of her wine and before she could talk herself out of it, crossed the room, opened the door and pulled out Eric’s notebook.

  When they were still in Nevada, Eric had started writing in the notebook during all his long wait times at the hospital while he was undergoing his treatments. He’d read a lot as well, but it was writing in the notebook that had helped him get through the long days. Drew had asked once what he was writing about, but Eric had only smiled, tucked the book away and told her, “Just jotting down a few thoughts, babe.” His bright-green eyes were already so faded and dulled by then, but she could still see the light that shone there when he l
ooked at her. “Lots of things going on up here these days.” He tapped at his head and then pressed a finger to his lips until she kissed him.

  Drew had never pressed the issue because there was no point. She’d known what Eric never bothered to say: it wouldn’t be long before she could read the notebook herself.

  But she hadn’t. She’d known it was here all this time, and not once had she been tempted to open the drawer and take it out.

  Why?

  Drew could have laughed at herself. She had a million reasons she hadn’t looked before. At least she had a million reasons that she could use to convince herself, but she knew the truth.

  She was terrified.

  She held the blue paper-covered book and pressed it to her chest.

  What if Eric had written her a note? What if he’d used his last days to write down things he wanted her to know but couldn’t bring himself to say? The idea that Eric had held back from her at the end made her so unbearably sad that she didn’t know whether she’d be able to handle it if that’s what the notebook contained.

  But it could be worse.

  What if Eric had used the book simply to write grocery lists, or inane things that didn’t mean anything? Would she be equally as heartbroken to know that he hadn’t bothered to leave her a message?

  A tear slipped from her eye and down her cheek.

  It was ridiculous and didn’t make any sense, but Drew couldn’t help the swirl of confusing thoughts that raced through her head. “This is what grief and loss does to you, I guess.” She laughed at herself and shook her head before having another sip of wine.

  Ultimately, she was going to have to look at the notebook and Drew knew that whatever he’d written in there, she’d be fine because the truth was, she didn’t have any unfinished business with Eric.

  Besides the fact that they were meant to grow old and watch Austin grow up together. But there was nothing she could do about that. But everything else—the feelings they had for each other—both Drew and Eric had made a point to talk as openly and honestly as they could during those last few months. It wasn’t always easy. Far from it. But it was the best thing they could have done. Which was why Drew knew that whatever the notebook held, it would be okay.

  She took another sip of wine and flipped the little book open to the first page.

  * The scent of pine in the air

  * Birds singing outside my window

  * Austin driving cars on the floor by my feet

  * * *

  Drew read the three lines once. And then again before she smiled. Those were all things Eric loved. Little details that made his day worth living. He’d told her that once. “It’s the little things, Drew. The smallest of the small that make every day amazing.” He’d tucked a strand of her long hair behind her ear. “Like looking at you, your brown eyes, your gorgeous hair and…” He leaned over and tucked his face close to her neck. “The intoxicating scent of you. These are the things that make me want to open my eyes each and every day, despite the pain.”

  She smiled to herself, remembering how they’d kissed after that. Tenderly. Carefully. Drew touched her finger to her lips and turned the page of the notebook, no longer afraid.

  It wasn’t quite nine o’clock when Ben knocked on Drew’s door. He knew Austin would be sleeping, so he knocked quietly. He’d almost driven right past the small bungalow, unsure whether Drew would be up herself, but when he saw the lights on inside, he pulled over. Michael had made extra broccoli and cheese soup earlier and despite the popularity for it at the dinner rush, there was extra. Ben knew it was Drew’s favorite, and she so seldom was able to come by the Log and Jam because they currently didn’t have any family friendly hours. Something Ben was working on changing. Funny how these things were never important until his nephew had become such a major part of his life.

  He only had to wait a few minutes after knocking before Drew came to the door. She was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt and a scarf around her hair, as if she’d been cleaning.

  “I’m sorry it’s so—”

  “Ben? What are you—”

  She laughed as they tried to speak over each other. It was such a sweet sound and one Ben had rarely heard in the last few months. Instinctively, he wanted to make it happen again.

  “Come in.” She stepped aside to let him into the small hallway. “I’ve been busy. Come see.”

  Ben did as he was told and followed her down the short hallway into her kitchen. He noticed her hard work immediately. “Wow, Drew. You have been busy. What did…where…how?”

  She laughed again. “I unpacked.”

  “Did you ever.” He nodded and looked around again, noticing the brightly colored vases on top of the cabinets and the ceramic rooster tucked on one of the shelves, along with a variety of cookbooks. There was a bowl he’d never seen before on the kitchen table with some sort of decorative pinecones. But the biggest change of all was the fridge. The once plain white space was now covered with magnets and pictures. There was even some of Austin’s artwork secured to the front.

  “It looks like…”

  “Home?”

  He nodded and looked at her. She looked so pleased with herself that he couldn’t help but smile right along with her. “It looks great, Drew. Really.” He held up the container of soup and she took it from him with another smile.

  “My favorite?”

  “Of course.”

  She slipped it inside the fridge, turned and grabbed his hand. “You have to see the living room,” she said. “Do you have a few minutes?”

  Without waiting for an answer, she started to pull him toward the other room, but Ben was rooted to the spot, staring at their hands. Her touch sent a heat through him that had startled him to his core.

  “Ben?” Drew had stopped and was looking at him with a slight frown. “Are you—”

  “I’m fine.” He shook his head and forced a smile to his face. “Sorry. Yes, of course I want to see the living room.”

  She dropped his hand, unaware of the effect her simple touch had on him. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, still disconcerted by the unexpected feelings. It had been years since that had happened. Almost twenty, in fact. He didn’t want to think about what it might mean.

  Fortunately, he was distracted by the living room. Drew had put out throw cushions, more decorative vases, and bowls and the usual knickknacks that are found in a family home. There were candles, and family pictures on the mantel as well as an oversized mirror placed in the center. On the walls, she’d even hung some art, and more photos. Including a family picture of Ben and Eric with their parents that had been taken in high school before Eric graduated.

  He couldn’t help but smile as he looked around the room. His eyes landed on the couch. Or more specifically, what was on the couch. “What’s this?” He crossed the room and picked up a stuffed trout pillow.

  “Oh, that.” Drew giggled. “I know it’s kind of ugly, but it was Eric’s pillow. It was the only thing he insisted on having in our house, no matter what. So, I thought—”

  “It’s mine.”

  “What?”

  Ben turned the pillow around in his hands and looked to the belly of the fish, where he’d used a Sharpie when he was ten to write his initials before taking it to summer camp. “Right here.” He pointed. “B.R. This was my pillow when we were kids. I wondered where it went.” He grinned to himself as he remembered the way his brother would tease him about the ugly trout. “It disappeared right around graduation. I assumed that Mom must have thrown it out, but…” He trailed off as he realized that Eric had taken it with him when he’d moved out.

  “If it’s yours, you should have it,” Drew said.

  That was about the time when things had gotten really serious between Eric and Drew and they’d both moved away to school. Together. Had Eric known how much the pillow meant to him? How much Drew had meant?

  He shook his head. It didn’t matter. “No,” he said quickly. “It belongs
here.” He put the pillow back. For the second time that day, a lump formed in his throat. He cleared his throat and turned around again. “It looks great, Drew. Really.”

  “Thank you.” She had her hands on her hips and a satisfied smile on her face. “It was time.” She laughed a little and corrected herself. “No, it was past time. It wasn’t always easy.” Her smile dimmed a little. “But it feels good to be settled here and make the space a little more…well, like home.”

  “So you’re staying?”

  It’s not as if they’d ever talked about her moving back to Nevada, but she also hadn’t said anything about settling in Timber Creek either. It was almost as if her and Austin’s life had only been planned up to Eric’s death and after that…

  “I’m staying,” she said. “I don’t really have anywhere else to go. I mean, Nevada was home for a long time and we had some great friends there, but it’s not the same as being here and being around family. And of course, friends who feel like family. I guess I never really planned it, but yes.” She nodded, her smile returning. “I’m staying here. I just need to work out the rest of the details. Like a job.”

  “You know, if I can help with anything, just let me know. I’m always looking for good help.” He winked. “Especially with the patio opening tomorrow. I think we’ll be busier than ever.”

  “Oh, is it ready already?”

  He laughed. “It feels like it’s taken forever. But yes. We should be up and running by Friday. Which is one of the reasons I came by. I’m hoping to make it a big event and I thought you might like a night out, too. Before you say no,” he raised a hand to stop the objection he knew was likely to follow, “I already asked Cam if Morgan was free to babysit. I would have asked Mom, but I think it would be good for them to get out, too.” He’d gone out on a limb organizing Cam’s teenage daughter to watch Austin, but she was a responsible kid, and he really did want Drew to celebrate the patio, too.