Until I Fall

by Claudia Burgoa

  Finally, I found my home.

  ASPEN

  “THAT’S A LOT of money,” I stare at the budget Brynn and I made. Opening our own practice is like starting a small business. “What are our options?”

  Brooklyn deflates. “Apply for a loan, rob the bank.”

  “Pole dancing?” We both burst into a giddy laughter.

  “Not sure if we qualify for that amount, we might,” I say out loud. “I just finished paying my med school loans.”

  “The start up cost is ridiculous,” Brynn agrees with me.

  “What if we try to find a practice of a soon to retire doctor?” I suggest. Asking for a loan is scary. If my father were alive, he would help me with the cost. I just know it. “Or I can sell one of Dad’s properties.”

  When my father died, he left me his apartment in New York and the house in Maine. I haven’t had the time to visit them since he died. I pay a company to clean them monthly. That’s money I should’ve saved to open my practice. I have to ask Austin what he did with his properties. If he sold them, I can ask him to back me up until we’re settled. Though when can I do it? He avoids talking about Dad and anything related to him.

  Me: Hey, I want to run something by you whenever you have time.

  Austin: That’s two days in a row that you’re contacting me. Are you feeling alright?

  Me: Yesterday you contacted me. And yes, I’m alright.

  Austin: I’m finishing up some work stuff, give me a few.

  Me: Work, today?

  Austin: Yes, I’ll explain later.

  “Or both,” I say, putting my phone away. “It’s not like I use them.”

  “Do you want to sell them?” She picks her water bottle, her light blue eyes narrowing on me. “We don’t have to, there’re other options.”

  I frown because the house in Maine is a memory I want to preserve, and the apartment is Dad’s favorite place.

  “Why don’t we start searching for offices? There are a ton decisions to be made. Like the location, here or Seattle.” I pick up the paperwork we have to fill out for the state licenses, attaching it to the budget. My eyes skim the numbers for the millionth time. My heart sinks into the floor, a lump forms in my throat. Those properties meant something to Dad, mean something to me. They shouldn’t. They’re just pieces of land, and nothing I can take with me if I die. Still, they are memories of Dad. Our old home is where I felt the safest. The apartment he loved so much. “I’ll contact real estate agents. On second tought, I’ll call my godfather, he lives close by and might be able to help me.”

  Walter takes his role as a second father seriously. He says I’m his only and favorite child. He has two failed marriages, no chidren, and he spent a lot of holidays with us. I’m ot sure why he couldn’t make the marriages work. I was too young to comprehend during the first, and too involved in my high school drama to pay attention to the second one. The man is amazing, and I love him. I have no doubt that if I ask for help he would find the real agents to sell my home.

  “You have a godfather?” I jolt as I hear Anderson’s voice imitating the voice of Vito Corleone. Turning around, I spot him marching toward me. He lifts a finger and says, “I’m going to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

  “Not a bad Marlon Brando impersonation,” I concede. “My godfather doesn’t talk that way, though. He’s fun, and might laugh if you do that in front of him.”

  “It’ll be a pleasure to meet him,” Anderson adds with that beautiful smile plastered on his lips and the sadness behind his eyes.

  Anderson leans down to kiss my cheek. “It’s chilly, why don’t you take this party inside?”

  “The cold breeze,” Brynn answers to his question.

  He arches an eyebrow, crossing his arms giving me that ‘I don’t get it” gaze.

  I pick up the budget, handing it to him. “We’ve found it’s easier to discuss important subjects while we are in an uncomfortable place.”

  “Phew, those are too many zeros,” he states the obvious.

  “Tell me about it.” I huff, frustrated with myself, our situation, and our lack of options. Applying for a job at an already established practice is a solution. Finding a practice who will hire the Brynn and me at the same time is impossible. “How’s Sophia?”

  His mom is flying to New York tonight. Her sister will meet her there. They’re staying in the city for a couple of days to watch Hamilton and then they’re traveling to London on Tuesday morning.

  “Okay. She texted before taking off.” He shrugs. I take his hand and squeeze it. “I respected one of her wishes, but sent her with a bodyguard and a nurse. The world isn’t safe. Her body isn’t as strong as it used to be and . . . fuck.”

  He combs his hair, squeezing his eyes tight for a second. “What if something happens to her? I wish she had let me go with her.”

  Sophia wants to spend two weeks in Europe with her sister. They always dreamt of going to Spain to watch Spanish style bullfighting. A trip she pushed for another day.

  “You have to live every day as if it’s the last with an open heart,” she said to me. “The heart of a child who is learning about the world and can’t get enough of it. Only then will you enjoy your life fully.”

  The message was clear. Brynn and I jumped into action. Here we are, trying to live our lives. Finding that the benefits of a medical practice are insignificant when facing the cost. Choosing a different path is harder than making the initial decision. The verdict was easy to make, finding a way to make it happen is going to take a lot from us. How long can I stay in the hospital without breaking down? I’m going back to work tomorrow. I talked to my boss about Sophia’s health. Once she’s back from her trip and her health begins to decline, I want to dedicate my time to her. I’m going to help with her daily care. A hospice isn’t the place for her. I know in my heart that she’ll be more comfortable at home.

  “Any conclusions?” I ask.

  Brooklyn’s phone buzzes, her alarm announcing it’s time to go to work. She closes her eyes. And for the first time, I realize she isn’t enjoying the job as much as she used to. It’s not only me.

  “Graveyard shift?”

  “Yes,” she huffs. “I shouldn’t have gone out last night.”

  “It was fun,” I counter.

  “The jury is still out on that.” She stands up, waving goodbye and leaving the porch without a word.

  What happened? She said she enjoyed the acoustic performance. She danced with Kevin, who stayed in the guest room last night, promising to come along during our next outing. Did I miss something?

  “Is she okay?”

  “Maybe she’s as tired as I am.” I take back the papers, sliding them inside the folder. “What’s the plan for tonight, Hawk?”

  He extends his hand. As I take it, he pulls me toward him. His mouth crashes against mine, the kiss a mix of longing and sweetness. “Movies, bed, sex? You choose, I’ll follow your lead.”

  “Netflix,” I respond, walking to the house. “Aren’t you supposed to be working tonight?”

  “I made a deal with Kevin.” He smirks, winking at me. “Tonight, I’m all yours. We can snuggle on the couch and eat all the M&Ms I have in my backpack.”

  “Well this is going to be awkward, I don’t like snuggling.” I hear Austin’s voice calling out behind me. When I turn there he is with a wide flirty smile eyeying my . . . Anderson? “But I’m down for the challenge if needed.”

  Pointing at him, I serve him with a nasty glare. “Eyes off my man, big brother.”

  We both laugh as I walk to his open arms giving him a hug. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was only a few blocks away, doing a house visit for one of my cases.” He presses his lips tight, moving his attention to Anderson. “Austin Zimmerman,” he extends his hand while sizing him up. My brother is one inch shy of six feet, but looks a lot smaller than my Anderson. “Nice to meet you. You must be Aspy’s boyfriend.”

  Boyfriend? My eyes widen. We don�
�t have a title. We’re hanging out. The sex is good. No, it’s extraordinary. Should we have a title? Boyfriend is too serious. It’s something two people in a long term relationship can say. How is he going to take it? Will he run because my brother assumes he’s my boyfriend? Anderson and I . . .

  “Yeah, man,” Anderson responds releasing his hand and hugging me on the side. “I’m the lucky guy dating your sister.”

  My muscles relax. My heart beats normally, yet my chest burns. There’s a total ambiguity to his words. It’s relaxing hearing he’s okay with us dating casually. Why would I worry that he didn’t say the word? Boyfriend. He didn’t because being one means we’re serious. We can’t and shouldn’t be serious. We only became a thing a few weeks back. Then why does it feels that we’ve known each other for so long? Why is everything between us so intense? Each kiss and touch between us is like a mark—a tattoo inked into my soul with the most vivid hue of every emotion.

  “What did you do with the properties and money Dad left you, Aussie?” I change the subject to the most trivial one I can find.

  His eyebrow arches, his head angles and his arms cross. “Why? Do you need money?”

  “A loan, yes.”

  He scratches his dark beard, those brown eyes similar to mine staring at me. “The two buildings in Boston are affordable housing for families with low incomes, and I sold the apartment in Hawaii to run those buildings. How much do you need?”

  I smile at him, kissing his cheek. “You’re the best man I’ve ever known, do you know that?”

  “You’d think, but I did it to spite our father. Those low income families are part of the LGBTQIA community. He would hate it.” He laughs, not accepting the praise. No matter the motive, he’s a thoughtful man and I’m very proud of him. “What do you need money for, squirt?”

  Shaking my head, I swing the door open holding the paperwork. “Nothing important, just running my options. Come on, let’s make some popcorn, and watch something fun.” I place the papers I have in my hand down on the coffee table, and head to the kitchen. “We should celebrate this. Two days in a row seeing each other is inprecedented.”

  “Move to downtown Seattle. I have two extra rooms and there’re plenty of hospitals there.”

  “We just might,” I hint, getting ready to spend some time with two of my favorite guys.

  ANDERSON

  ON MOST MONDAY mornings, I wake up at six, go for a run, head to the offices to train new recruits, and work on the back end of some missions or help with the next prototypes. Today I’m sitting in my car, waiting for my girlfriend to come back from work. I’m trying to understand why the fucker she dated parked in front of her house for hours while he waited for her to appear. The craving to have her in my arms and the worry in my heart as she continues working a job she used to love both have increased.

  I have an offer for her. One I hope she will take; helping with the care of my mother full time. In a few weeks, I have to join Tiago in Colorado. Mom is coming back in a couple of weeks, and according to the doctor in San Jose, her health is going to decline progressively. Knowing that Aspen is with her lightens my worry. If I pay her, she doesn’t have to worry about work. I check the time, seven-thirty and she hasn’t arrived home yet. Wasn’t her shift over at three? I should’ve offered to pick her up.

  My phone rings, her name appears on the screen of my dashboard.

  “Hey.” I push the button to answer. “Are you okay?”

  “Hm. Not really,” she pauses, “there’s this creepy truck in front of my house. Can you run his plates?” She bursts into laughter.

  “Smart ass,” I grumble, pushing the door open and climbing out as I see her truck pulling into the driveway.

  “Did you sleep?” she asks walking toward me. I kiss her pouty lips, evading the answer. “Brynn says you’ve been parked there since midnight.”

  “Three in the morning,” I correct her. “Brynn didn’t see me until six when she went for a run with Hugo.”

  “All the same, you’ve been parked stalking my house. Why?”

  I couldn’t sleep without you? No, too needy. “What took you so long?”

  “Accidents, shootings, baby.” The corner of her lip pulls, her eyes turn hazy. “This little tiny baby I delivered only a couple of hours ago.”

  She squeezes her eyes, clapping slightly. “A girl. She’s the reason I stayed longer. A teenage girl arrived with painful cramps and unbearable back pain.” Aspen presses her lips clasping her hands and fidgiting with her fingers. “Contractions.”

  “They didn’t know?”

  Aspen shrugs, giving me a ‘what can I say?’ look. “Maybe the girl knew and she was trying to convince her parents otherwise. Maybe all of them were in denial and hoped that I would prescribe some miracle medication. Who knows, I don’t judge. My job was to diagnose her, and afterward, she begged me to stay. I did until I delivered the baby. In the meantime, I had a conversation with her about options.

  “Her parents interceded and said they would help raise the baby while she continued school.” Aspen smiles. “It was the perfect solution for them. I won’t lie, I almost offered to adopt the tiny, adorbable baby.”

  I freeze, staring at her. Did she just say what I think she did?

  Aspen claps her hands against my cheeks. “Oh God, you just freaked out, didn’t you?” Pushing herself up, and lowering my face she presses my lips against her. “I better not tell you about baby fever then.”

  Gasping for air, I follow behind her stunned. Yes, I freaked out with her comment. Can she blame me? Was she planning on coming home and say, ‘look honey, I brought you some Starbucks and a baby?’

  “Oh look, your stalker is here,” Brynn comments giving me a side glance as we enter the kitchen. “Coffee is ready. Muffins are warming up in the oven, and I even squeezed some juice for you, honey.”

  “How sweet, Brooklyn. Fresh, bitter grapefruit juice from the bottle. Is there any orange juice?” Brynn shakes her head. Aspen pours herself some coffee, handing it to me. “I’ll go grocery shopping later today.”

  “Please don’t confuse your Google search with my Medical degree.” I laugh at her ridiculous mug. “Do all your mugs have a medical related quote?”

  “We collect them,” Aspen retorts. “It started as a joke. Then friends, colleagues and family started gifting them to us.”

  “Doctors have strange quirks,” Brynn continues the conversation, as she eats her Cinamon Toast Crunch with Froot Loops.

  “Like baby fever,” Aspen jumps back into the conversation. When I lift my head to glance her way she’s eyeing me suspiciously, suppressing a laugh. “Do you want a muffin, Hawk?”

  Brynn huffs, covering her mouth with the palm of her hand. “Oh no, I knew you were too gleeful. We are not having a baby in this house.”

  “What is baby fever?”

  They go on with their explanation. It’s some myth that every time a doctor touches a newborn, they want to have a baby. There are stories of colleagues knocking up wives—because the syndrome affects men and women equally. After a few laughs, Aspen talks about the teenager, barely seventeen with clueless parents.

  “What about the baby’s dad?”

  “She said it didn’t matter,” Aspen responds to Brynn’s question yawning. “I’m glad the parents are supporting her and keeping the baby.”

  “Time for bed, Doc.” I rise from my seat, taking the dirty dishes to the sink. “Leave the them, Brynn. I’ll wash them after we take a nap.”

  Heading to Aspen, I grasp her hand, pulling her toward me. “You’ve been awake for more than twenty-four hours.”

  “And you?” I grin at her, unable to respond.

  I don’t want to tell her that I’ve been waiting for her, explain her how hard it was to fall asleep without having her curves molded to my body and her scent soothing my dreams. Her eyes widen just like her smile. “Hm. You haven’t been to bed either.”

  “Maybe. Say goodnight to your friend,” I suggest
walking hand in hand with Aspen.

  “Careful, Anderson,” Brynn’s warning voice halts me. “You’re being a dreamy boyfriend, and she has baby fever.”

  “Good night, Brooklyn.” Aspen chides her. Then, turns toward me. “I don’t want to have your baby. This is a phase that will pass by the time I wake up. Children aren’t in my future.”

  The word future sounds like a lifetime sentence in her voice. “Ever?”

  She flinches at the bark tone in my voice and shakes her head. “This is a conversation for another day. One where I’ve slept a decent number of hours.”

  “Did you plan to have some with Michael?”

  Her head snaps, moving violently in my direction. Her face falls and her skin dulls. Those whiskey eyes and her mouth are frozen wide open staring straight at me. My question hit a sensitive subject. I’m aware she avoids talking about him or her past. Personally, I don’t mind listening to whatever she has to say. He’s part of her story. His early departure from this world shaped her personality too. Listening to how they met, their plans for the future, and the brief moments they spent together doesn’t bother me. In fact, I appreciate when she opens that much to me.

  “I don’t mean to pry,” I speak, folding her into my arms and kissing the top of her head.

  “Thirty-eight years, and this is the first time I care enough about a woman to find out everything about her. Who she is, her secrets, her dreams, and her pain.” I press my lips on her forehead, eating some words I want to say but might sound presumptious. Like how I want to reach inside her soul and erase the bad moments, replacing them with something sweet. Tell her how full of life she is when her mind isn’t gravitating to the past. How I want to keep her with me in the present. “Please forgive me if I asked you the wrong question. I just want to know everything about you.”

  “It’s becoming too complicated to talk about him,” she whispers, leaning her head over my chest. “The plan was to have children after my residency, perhaps a couple of years after. Two kids.”

  I hug her, protecting her from the sadness. She lifts her head, her eyes finding mine. “Do you want to have a family?”