Until I Fall

by Claudia Burgoa

  “My sister gets me, and I’m thankful for you. Do you need me? Do you need anything?”

  “I’d love it if you can stay with Dad while I take a nap.” He groans. “Since that’s not going to happen, why not help me find a place for Brooklyn and Hugo to stay?”

  “If Hugo were a hot guy, I’d take him out of your hands. But since that’s not the case and you’re too far away, I have no idea what to do.”

  “Understandable.” I sigh.

  “I’ll call our mother,” he pauses, there’s a long silence. “She has to make other arrangements or stay in her house because I can only deal with her personality during the holidays.”

  “Good luck with that, love you, Aussie.”

  “Love you too, Squirt.”

  Hanging up the phone, I turn around to find Dad observing me.

  “Hey, Daddy.” I march toward him. “How are you feeling?”

  “Were you on the phone with Austin?” His voice cracks but his words are clear.

  “Yeah.”

  “Is he coming to see me?”I lower my head closing my eyes briefly. “I don’t blame him. He’s a good kid, I was never a good father to him. When my time comes, you’ll—”

  “Dad, save your strength.” I take his hand between mine.

  “No, Aspy. You have to pay attention to me, sweetie. I don’t have much time left, we both know it. The lawyer has a will; you’re the executor. Your mom should be covered for life—even if she doesn’t accept what I leave her.” He speaks with such clarity. I am hopeful, yet my gut clenches. This could be the last time we have a nice long conversation. “The house is for her. All the other properties are for you and your brother, except for the apartment in New York and the house in Maine.”

  “Dad, save your energy.”

  “The apartment is for you. Now, dear. The most important task I’ll assign you is to open the safe, the one under my desk. There, you’ll find a big envelope addressed to you. Read it when you’re ready.”

  His eyes begin to close. “Ready for what?” I touch his forehead, then feel the side of his neck to count his pulsations. “You should rest, Daddy.”

  “Promise you’ll follow my wishes, Aspy,” he persists as if his life depends on my promise.

  “I promise to look for the envelope.”

  “I thought I had all the time, and look at me. I’m scrapping minutes here and there so I can be with my favorite girl.”

  Kissing him hand I dare to ask, “Dad, earlier you were asking for her. Who were you talking about?”

  “I loved your mom, Aspy. We had a complicated relationship. Neither one of us trusts the other entirely to give ourselves to the relationship—the way a marriage should be.” He closes his lips looking for something. I take the cup of water from the table next to him and help him drink some. “Thank you.”

  He closes his eyes, his hand searching for something. It doesn’t stop until it finds mine. “Yes, I love Addison so much. And I hurt her even more. Please, tell Addison I loved her and that it wasn’t my intention to cause her so much pain. If I could, I would go back and do everything differently. I’d let go of Helena and give everything to Addy.”

  “Who is Helena?”

  “My first love. The one who got away—no I left her first.” He squeezes my hand weakly. “Addy wasn’t the love of my life, but she was my partner. Your mother was so different back when I first met her. Her free spirited personality died as we continue with the on and off relationship. My doubts, her . . . she never believed that I could love her. You can fall in love with two different people. I hope with time, you’ll understand it. You should try to open your heart too. Michael was a good man, but I know there’s someone else out there waiting for you.”

  “Dad, please.” I hate when he talks about Mike and my life. He can’t possibly understand my feelings.

  “Please, Aspy. Enough is enough. Grief is withering your soul.” He closes his eyes. “Tell Austin I loved him. In my heart, he’s my boy. My son.”

  “What does that mean?” I urge him to speak, this is a breakthrough.

  He flinches, grunting in pain. “My time is coming, Aspy.”

  “No. Wait!” The desperation in my voice echoes in my ears.

  “Find what makes you happy, allow yourself to live again.” His breathing grows shallow. “You’ve done a remarkable job since he died, one more push, sweetie.”

  He flinches, and I wish I could do something to free him from the pain. “As your daughter, I don’t want to lose you, but I can see why you have to go. You’re in so much pain, Daddy.”

  “You being here makes everything easier, better. I love you the most, sweetie. Maybe I wasn’t the best father, but I loved you and tried my best to protect you from everything. Sorry if I failed you while doing so.”

  “You never failed me.” I kiss him on the cheek. “I love you, Daddy. Being a parent looks like a hard job, and I’ve seen that babies don’t come with instructions under their arms.”

  I make a weak joke; he chuckles. “Twenty-three children, Dad. One set of twins. Not sure if the parents knew what to do, but I bet they realized that parenthood isn’t an easy job.”

  “You’ll be a good mother.”

  “Or not. I don’t think I can take care of one of those. My dog is self-sufficient, that’s the only reason he’s alive.” Diverting the conversation to something different is my goal. My parents believe that women should marry during or after college, and they should start having children right away. At twenty-nine, I’m about to become a spinster. “What happened to Helena, Dad?”

  “She was my high school sweetheart. I chose Columbia over DU. She didn’t want to move to New York with me. It wasn’t her destiny.” His eyes remain closed as he slowly continues the story of this woman he loved. “She met another guy. The love of her life, she said. When I came back, she was gone. She married to a SEAL who died only a few years later. It was hard for her and her children. I didn’t want that for you, Aspy. I wanted you to find a nice man who had a steady job and who would give you everything.”

  Dad mentioned it once. I told him it was also a possibility that a civilian would cross the street and get run over by a bus leaving me a widow. There’s no point in rehashing my past. This is one of those times where he could say, “I told you so.” He never did. Instead, Dad procured me and pushed me to get out of the depression I felt into after Michael’s death.

  “I made so many mistakes, Aspen. Innocent people went to jail. Others were sent to the wrong facility.” His eyes open; they harbor sadness, regret. I wish he would forget the past and live in peace for the next few days or weeks. “I did everything in the name of my children. I wanted to have enough money so we could be happy and look at me now, I won’t take any of that with me. My wife is unhappy, and my son hates me.”

  “I love you,” I remind me.

  “For how long?” he retorts, I forget how to breathe with that question. “I only ask you to forgive me. Please, don’t hate me, I—”

  Dad starts coughing, blood splatters on my pink turtleneck. Switching gears I press the button calling the nurse and sit him up, holding his brittle frame against my body. Rubbing his back gently.

  “Try to breathe slowly, through your nose.” Don’t lose the patient, Aspen, don’t lose him. “Close your mouth and let’s try to count your breaths.”

  “I—I can’t . . . anymore,” he gasps between coughs. “I’m tired, but I need you to promise me.”

  “What do you need me to promise?”

  “Forgive me for everything. Help others.” Another round of cough, I continue holding him. “Use it to fix what I did. Find a way to be happy without giving your life to the job. Spend time—”

  “Daddy, stop talking. Please, don’t use the energy you have. We can talk later.”

  “No. Let me go.”

  It dawns on me, he wants to go. With a heavy heart, I hug him tighter mustering the most painful words I’ve said in years. “I promise to follow your instru
ctions. Please, don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine, it’s time for you to leave. I love you, Daddy.”

  His head falls slightly on my shoulder. The sound of the heart monitor changes. A flat, deafening sound that I’m used to hearing pierces me right in the chest. It makes my heart bleed and the tears I held run freely through my cheeks. Today I don’t call the time of death. I hang on to my father tightly for one last time.

  ANDERSON

  “DID I LOSE you?”

  Aspen’s eyes stare at the wall, sucking on her buttom lip and pulling the hem of her flouncy floral shirt.

  She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes tightly and swallowing hard.

  “Dad, I was with Dad for a few seconds,” she sighs the words. Then, glancing over me, she smiles. “He would’ve hated you.”

  “Way to make a guy feel welcome, darling.” I place a hand behind her head, kissing her forehead.

  Aspen wraps her arms around me, leaning her head against my chest. “Dad wasn’t crazy about military men. He never liked Michael, complained about his career, his intentions, his absence. I could do better, you know?”

  She turns her head slightly upwards, her eyes meeting mine. “Yet, when Michael died, my father never left my side. He—”

  “Wait, who is Michael again?”

  “My fiance, he died ten years ago.” The words thunder inside my chest. Yes, she talked about a Michael when she was wasted. How amazing he was but never specified the relationship between them. “He was a SEAL. Dad didn’t care for his career. He feared I’d be left a widow with tons of children.”

  I walk us to the bed, and sit us one next to the other, never letting her go. She closes her eyes, resting her head on the crook of my neck.

  “Did he die during deployment?” My heart breaks for the girl she once was. I attended several funerals where I witnessed the pain and agony of spouses and significant others. I’ve seen the sadness of children looking at the casket in front of them. Proud of their fathers, crying because they will never see them again. I was that proud boy watching the service while they honored my father.

  “No.” She releases a sad, heartwrenching laugh. “Car accident.”

  Aspen describes the day, the last phone call he made to her. She worried about school, the long list of things her mother had assigned for the upcoming wedding. “Mom had planned a big wedding. I was too busy with school to care about the big picture.”

  Mrs. Zimmerman cared that her friends were on the list, the colors of the wedding. Of course, the catering mattered to Aspen. Her mother’s family is a mix of Puerto Rican and Greek.

  “You never know what they’ll feed you next.” She smiles slightly. “Dad loved Mom’s culinary varitey, but it was a wedding. I prefered to keep it simple and classy.”

  Micheal drove to meet Aspen so they could fly together over the weekend to Boston. Her mom insisted on having the food and cake choices made as soon as possible. There was the dress fitting and the choice of invitations. “My parents never left my side. Dad took a sabatical from work and moved closer to me since I refused to go back home or leave school.”

  “Sounds like you and your father were close.” I sound obvious, but I have the need to know more. “How about you and your brother?”

  “Austin. He’s the reason I moved to Seattle. I wanted to be closer to him and far from the memories.”

  Austin, her brother, didn’t have a good relationship with his parents. As she lets me inside her world, I understand who Aspen is: why she shies away from feelings and how her obsession with endless hospital shifts started.

  “Mom and I don’t speak often.” There’s a long silence, she clears a tear with the back of her hand.

  “We are too different. She’s too loud. When I was younger, I thought she was angry at me all the time.”

  “Her whole family is that way.” She deflates. “Their voices are loud—happy, sad, angry, excited, even at church they sound the same. I cried easily with all the rucus they made.”

  “And you’re this cute, shy girl who couldn’t handle it.” I cup her face, kissing her nose and then her lips.

  “It helped me.” She chuckles. I arch an eyebrow. “The ER is a loud, fast paced atmosphere. If you can survive my family, you can survive any hospital. It’s a fact.”

  She lifts a hand, caressing my cheek and stretching her neck to kiss my chin. “Sorry, I am supposed to be here for you.”

  “You’re here for me, and I enjoy when you share yourself with me.” I comb her hair. “Besides, Mom says friendships are about trusting and helping each other.”

  I stare deep into her dark chocolate eyes with the hypnotic, golden flecks. They engulf my soul in their warmth. Cupping her cheek, I lean closer to her. A voice in my head shouts, “don’t do this, after it there’s no turning back.” My heart booms inside my chest hard with anticipation. Every molecule in my body shakes, ready to explode. This isn’t our first kiss. But when our lips meet sparks fly in every direction, igniting a fire around us, separating us from the rest of the world. Nothing matters, only the consuming kiss we share. Our lips move in perfect sync. Our tongues wrestle in a passionate duel to overtake the other. Her hands go around my neck. I pull her toward me plopping my body on the bed and rolling us over, so we are side by side. The heat running through my body builds, and I want more.

  I want her by my side.

  I want her lips, her body.

  I want her soul.

  Most of all, I want to give her my heart.

  A warm sensation runs through my body. A feeling, that same warning voice that everything has changed. The magnetic pull is replaced by a link. I kiss her deeper fusing the link with our souls. I want to tear her clothes off and trace her olive skin with my tongue. I want to spend hours learning everything about her: what makes her come, how fast she likes it. Savor her while discovering every inch of that perfect body.

  Want is a selfish verb. Usually I would strip the woman I’m with down to her underwear and fuck her senseless until we’ve had enough, not with her. This thing between Aspen and me is different. I have no name for it, but it’s much more complex than anything I’ve experienced. Much different than the girl I dated in high school. Aspen knows more about relationships. I’ll try to follow her lead. Listening to her talking about Michael constricts my heart. She has lost so much. No wonder she tries to stay away from emotional attachments. If making out for the next thirty years is the only thing we do, I’ll oblige. While trying my hardest to control myself, I promise to try to tear down all her walls and make a home inside her heart.

  My phone rings, Bradley’s tone. I ignore it. Aspen stops us. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispers not moving from my hold. Her eyes reflecting the same lust and need I have. “Friends, we’re just friends.”

  I stare at her mute. She can’t possibly think we can be friends. Our friendship started when I spotted you in your backyard and ended when I heard your melodic voice. She’s a powerful magnet, and I gravitate toward her constantly. Those fucking walls, she’s going rebuild them. Don’t let her.

  “We—” Fuck, Bradley rings twice, hanging up twice and ringing again. There’s an emergency.

  Cursing under my breath, I fight the need to have Aspen in my arms and release her pulling my phone out of my pocket.

  “Yes?”

  “I need you tonight,” he says.

  “I’m in San Jose,” I remind him.

  “Yes, and I apologize for calling, but I need you.” My eyes roam around the bedroom, focusing on the fuck me heels next to the purple luggage. Shit, we planned on going out for dinner. I’m not better than her ex. We can do it later. I’ll return early in the morning, and we can have . . .”Tell me what you need for me to make this happen, Hawk. It’s going to be Kowalski, Tiago, Harrison, you and me.”

  He never assembles his A team, unless . . .”Is it a fast job?”

  “I’m afraid not, this might take a couple of days.” He covers the phone, I can’t make out th
e mumbling behind it. “Tiago says he’ll owe you his first born. I’ll brief you when you’re here.”

  “Give me a second.”

  “It’s work . . .” I don’t want to sound like an ass, but leaving Aspen here should be her choice. “Do you want to stay until I’m back?”

  “Another tattoo emergency?” I nod. She stares at me for a few beats. Her gaze lowers for a second, and once she meets mine, something is different. Her need is replaced with indiference. The cold blast of her look strikes me in the chest. “Home, if you don’t mind. I’d rather head back today.”

  “Bradley, call me when you have our ride ready.” I tap the red button, my eyes never leaving hers. What the fuck happened? I lost her.

  Bradley: Be at the airport in 30 minutes.

  “We’re not friends, Aspen. Friends don’t kiss the way we just did.” I control my anger. Yes, I’m fucking angry with her. How can she let me kiss her the way she did and then metaphorically punch me in the chest? I lean in closer, her eyes widen as her lips part slightly. My willpower is slipping away. Don’t do anything stupid.

  Nibbling on her lower lip, I slide my tongue between her plum, heart shaped lips. Her hands go around my neck, giving herself to the moment. I kiss her urgently, desperate for more. Everything. “We don’t have a title, yet.” I fist her hair. My other hand pulls her closer to me. I let out a throaty moan as I dart my tongue inside her mouth and play with hers, my dick hardens. What I wouldn’t give to be inside her. “There’s something growing between us. Please, don’t disregard it, Aspen.”

  “You’re not a tattoo artist, Anderson,” she states the obvious. “You leave often, and put your life at risk. I don’t—”

  “Hold that thought.” I move her hair aside, kissing the back of her ear. “We can disscuss my line of work later. Just do me a favor, sweet woman. Open yourself up to the possibilities.”