Fix My Fall

by Carey Heywood

  I’m staying with her, it made sense for us to ride over together.

  I suppose I’ll ride home with her, even though I’m still angry at her for pushing. She thinks I’m taking what Spencer said out of context.

  But, how else am I supposed to take it? “Are Eli and them getting ready to take off?”

  Gideon slumps further into dad’s chair. “I think Brooke’s rounding up the kids as we speak. They’ll probably swing through here to say goodbye soon.”

  I hurry to finish my dessert. There’s no chance I’m leaving any behind. In fact, I wonder if I can talk Finley into letting me take any leftovers with me.

  Brooke’s voice trails in from the hall. “Go give goodbye hugs.”

  I barely have time to set my plate down before the kids crash into the room to pass out hugs. Eli follows after while Brooke waves from the door.

  Standing to hug each of them, plenty of Merry Christmases are murmured.

  “I like this one,” Eli quietly tells me as he hugs me.

  “It’s not like that,” I assure him.

  He shrugs.

  As a group, we follow them out into the hall and watch as the kids tug on their Bean boots and coats.

  “Aunt Abby, you have to kiss the man,” Connie shouts.

  Huh?

  Gideon laughs and points upward. “You sure do.”

  Brows furrowing, I look up.

  Shit.

  Mistletoe.

  Since the foyer is crowded with bodies, Spencer and I ended up standing next to each other in the doorway. A doorway with a sprig of mistletoe hanging above it.

  “Kiss her!” someone who sounds an awful lot like my mother shouts.

  My entire immediate family is staring at us.

  “Um.”

  Before I can get out the rest of what was going to be an excuse as to why we shouldn’t kiss, Spencer moves.

  One of his hands holds my cheek as he lowers his mouth to mine and briefly, presses my lips with his. It’s over so fast I wonder if I imagined it.

  He drops his hand and I tip my chin to look up at him.

  For a kiss that was nothing more than a peck, it was surprisingly sweet. The way he held my face was a nice touch. Still, the fact that we had my family as an audience might be the most embarrassing thing that’s happened tonight. Well, that or him offering me apple pie for fiber.

  No matter what, it was nice of him to take one for the team and kiss me. “Thanks Spencer.”

  He nods and looks at his feet. “You don’t have to thank me.”

  Tom catches my dad’s gaze. “That kiss was so quick I missed it. Should we make them do it again?”

  Connie drops her coat on the floor and starts to jump up and down. “Again. Again. Kiss her again.”

  I lift my hands. “No, no, one kiss is enough.”

  Brooke retrieves Connie’s coat and manages to get her into it. Another round of hugs and kisses are placed around before they leave. We crowd behind the storm door to wait and wave once they pull away.

  Finley rubs her arms and backs away from the door. “Brr. I’m going to go stand by the fire.”

  Noah, drapes his arm across her shoulders. “I’ll join you.”

  “Wait.” Paige stops them. “Asher and I are going to take off as well since we have a long drive.”

  “Are you still coming for New Year’s?” Finley asks, pulling her future sister-in-law into a hug.

  Paige glances back at Asher, who nods. “We’ll be there.”

  Before Paige, my brother Asher was becoming a complete hermit. I’m so happy he’s found her not only for himself but for the rest of us as well since we get to see him more now.

  Again, we all stand by the storm door to wave as they pull away.

  Once they’re out of sight, Finley asks. “Is it safe to go stand by the fireplace, or is anyone else leaving?”

  It’s Spencer who speaks. “I should probably get going.”

  My mom starts to shake her head. “Are you sure honey? It’s been so lovely having you.”

  He nods shyly before leaving.

  Talk about kiss and run.

  8

  Spencer

  “I got you your usual.”

  Abby beat me to the coffee house. It’s been two months since I joined her family for dinner on Christmas Eve.

  Since then, Abby and I have been meeting up for coffee once a week to discuss any properties that list and for her to coach me on strengthening my relationship with my family.

  I pull out the chair across from her and slide into it. “You’re here early today.”

  She pushes a small pile of papers toward me. “I was excited to show you this. It’s been weeks, but I actually have a house to show you.”

  Curiosity and surprise have me reaching for the papers. “Where is it?”

  She sips her coffee. “Five miles from campus.”

  The first page is a black and white photo of a plain ranch style house. “Can we tour it?”

  She motions to my drink. “I called the listing agent before you got here. It’s vacant so we can go once you’re done with your coffee.”

  I flip to the next page. “Sounds good.”

  “How was dinner with your parents?”

  She’s been giving me homework assignments. Last week’s was to take my parents out to dinner and spend at least ten minutes talking about something they were interested in.

  “It went well, better than I expected.”

  “Oh come on. Give me more than that.”

  She leans forward, and the wide neck of her turtleneck sweater hangs low enough for me to see the delicate silver chain of her necklace.

  “My dad is still ten years out from retirement. He’s been researching what to do with the money he and my mom have been putting away. It’s something that’s important to both of them and it was good to find out they should be able to live comfortably once they do retire.”

  She smiles. “That’s good news.”

  What I leave out is the rest of our dinner conversation was about her.

  I’ve thought often about Christmas Eve, and more specifically what her friend Samantha said.

  Why don’t you ask Abby out?

  At the time, I had assumed she was teasing me. That she thought a nerd like me asking someone like Abby out would be funny.

  Upon further reflection, both on that night and the times I’ve seen Abby since then, it’s become clear she wasn’t joking.

  First point of evidence is the fact that Samantha didn’t laugh when she said it. If it were a joke, wouldn’t one of them have laughed? And then, when Abby and I stood under the mistletoe, her family encouraged me to kiss her.

  One thing I’ve learned about the Thompson family is, they are not mean-spirited. I’ve known this since high school when I tutored Gideon. Her family would not have done that if they believed she would be opposed to kissing me.

  My hypothesis is that Abby Thompson likes me and may even be attracted to me. Now, it’s my plan to prove my theory as I try to get to know her better.

  Having a cup of coffee together once a week is not good enough. But, touring houses together will be the perfect way to get to know what she likes.

  As soon as I finish my cup, we leave, taking her car.

  “Have you ever considered moving out of Woodlake?”

  The car jerks as she presses on the brakes. There are no cars ahead of us so I can only assume it’s my question that caused her to react that way.

  She recovers quickly, her speed leveling back out to where it was before I spoke.

  “No, I’ve never thought about moving away.”

  Her response doesn’t surprise me. Why would she ever want to leave this place?

  “When you picked a university in California, was it to get away?”

  There’s no reason to lie. “Partly yes.”

  “And partly no?”

  “My course of study was specific enough that my options were limited.”

  “W
as Woodlake U one of those options?”

  Man, she cuts right to the chase.

  “It was.”

  “How bad was high school for you?”

  “It wasn’t bad at all. Please, don’t take my wanting to get away as something more than what it was.”

  “What was it?”

  I stare out the windshield at a town that is both familiar and brand new to me because of how long I’ve been gone. “A test to see if I’d be invisible somewhere else too.”

  “Invisible?”

  I clear my throat. “Many times it felt like no one saw me.”

  “I saw you.”

  She’s not lying, she saw me as a person, but not an option. It won’t do either of us any credit to focus on the difference.

  “Not many people here did.”

  “I’ve felt like I don’t have an identity beyond my family before. That to some people, I’m not Abby, I’m a Thompson.”

  My gaze moves to her profile. “Does that bother you?”

  She parks in the driveway of the plain house from the picture she showed me earlier. “It did until I learned to embrace it. I am so lucky to have the family that I do. Before it was like I was competing with my brothers but now I don’t even think about it like that anymore.”

  “Why did it ever feel like a competition?”

  She unbuckles her belt and reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Eli got the store and got married and started a family right away, then Noah went into business for himself and was killing it, then Asher built his own freaking cabin on a lake, and then there’s Gideon, who could sweet talk anyone into falling hopelessly in love with him. There was a point in my life when I felt like I didn’t measure up to them.”

  Her words shock me, not only because she felt that way but that she’d share something like that with me. “Like you said, it’s not a competition, but personally, I think you have them all beat.”

  The corner of her mouth tips up. “And why’s that?”

  “You’re the glue that holds them all together.”

  Her head turns to fully face me, her blue eyes curious. “You think that?”

  “Part of being a scientist is being observant, which I’ve told you before I believe you are. But, in my own observations spending time with you, with Gideon, and with your family, you are the person they all gravitate toward.”

  “They do that because they’re protective of me.”

  “They are protective of you because they value you.”

  “Well, let’s go check out this house and see if you value it.”

  I smile at her play on my words and the graceful way she changes the subject. “Good call.”

  As we walk up the path that leads to the door, Abby points out some selling features along the way. “The roof was replaced in 2015, the windows were done in 2013.”

  I hold the storm door for her as she retrieves the key from the lockbox that dangles from the knob. “There isn’t much of a front porch.”

  She glances up. “At least there’s enough of an overhang from the roof to keep you dry in the rain.”

  Following her lead, I look up as well. “Anyone back here would be getting rained on.”

  She frowns. “If it were me, and I love the inside, I’d get a couple quotes on how much it would cost to build the porch out and give you some nice curb appeal.”

  “How big of a porch do you think is the right size?”

  She pushes open the front door and motions for me to go ahead of her. “Wrap around porches are great for curb appeal and entertaining but for me, as long as a porch is big enough for a couple of rocking chairs and a table, that’s all I need.”

  I file that away.

  She starts flipping on lights as the interior tour begins.

  “The ceilings are on the low side.”

  This makes her grin up at me. “Short person perk, but I can see how that would be a concern for you.”

  We move through each room and while there’s nothing terribly wrong with the place, I know it’s not the right place for me.

  Abby opens a door that leads out onto a screened-in porch. “Now, here’s my favorite room in this place.”

  Truthfully, a screened-in porch was never something I put much thought into. Why be outside in something that obstructs your view of the sky.

  “Why is this your favorite room?”

  She spreads her arms wide. “It’s too cold now, but once it warms up, they are the perfect spot to hang and enjoy the weather without getting eaten alive.”

  I can picture it, Abby curled up on an outdoor lounge reading a book with a glass of wine. I can also picture her, out there, surrounded by her family and friends. Okay, a screened-in porch might not be a bad thing.

  “Another great thing about this property is the backyard. You can see most of it from here. It’s clear of trees if you’d like to do some stargazing.”

  The yard is, as she says, free of trees. It’s also free of any privacy, the yard running right into the yards of the homes on either side of it.

  “Do you think there would be an issue putting a fence in?”

  She seems surprised by my words. “It’s freezing out here. Let’s go back inside first.”

  She waits until the door closes to ask, “Are you considering making an offer on this place?”

  I shake my head. “The ceilings would drive me crazy.”

  “And, if they’d drive you crazy it’d probably be hard to sell in the future. So, why ask about the fence?”

  Her earlier question makes more sense now. “I like the space of the backyard but not how it’s open to the backyards of the other houses.”

  She nods. “This house is part of a homeowners’ association. I don’t believe I saw any fences when we drove through the neighborhood. It’s possible that they’re not allowed.”

  “I don’t like that.”

  She tilts her head to the side. “The not having a fence or the homeowners’ association?”

  I don’t have to think about it. “Both.”

  She laughs, and holds out her hands. “Not all associations are bad things. Some of the things they do help protect your property value. Also, many of them cover your trash pickup and snow removal.”

  Dipping my chin, I concede her point.

  “Before we leave, let’s talk pros and cons. Pros.”

  She waits for me to list them. “Clear backyard, decent amount of space on the inside, appliances are already here so I don’t have to buy any.”

  “Now cons.”

  I laugh. “The ceilings, no fence in the back, the front, and having to pull up carpets.”

  She moves to the front door and I follow her. “Let’s see if I can get that con list down on the next house we look at.”

  I hold open the storm door while she finishes locking the house up. This close, I can smell the honeysuckle scent of her shampoo.

  “Thanks,” she says as soon as she’s done.

  We’re back in her car when I speak. “Still on for next week?”

  “You know it, and are you doing anything on Saint Patrick’s Day?”

  Is she asking me out on a date?

  “I’d have to check my calendar.”

  She grins at me. “You can’t do that on your phone?”

  Oh right.

  Pulling it from my pocket, I scroll to the seventeenth of March. “No plans.”

  “Good, you’re officially invited to Finley, Eli, Paige and Gideon’s joint birthday party.”

  “Are they all born on the seventeenth?”

  She backs out of the drive. “Nope, but they are all born in March so we’re doing a combo party to make it easy on everyone. Don’t worry about bringing gifts. It’s not that kind of party.”

  “When’s your birthday?”

  “I’m an August baby. What about you?”

  “My birthday is in December.”

  She pulls over and parks in front of another house. “We missed your birthday?”

 
“It was the sixteenth, before we met up for the first time.”

  “You still should have said something.”

  As she pulls back onto the road, I watch her profile. Half of her hair is pulled up and twisted into some sort of braid, the rest of it falling over her shoulders in soft waves. We’re friends now.

  Getting to spend this time with her, and getting to understand her, my high school crush on her was well placed.

  By the time I find a house, I’d like for us to be more than friends.

  “Abby, we’re friends now. It would have been weird if I told you it was my birthday back then.”

  She huffs.

  This is her way of not admitting she’s wrong but also not continuing to argue her point.

  “My family has never been big on holidays or birthdays.”

  She glances my way. “I knew about the holidays, but birthdays too? What was it like growing up?”

  I frown and shift my gaze to look out the passenger window. “I would get a gift and an extra helping of dessert that night.”

  “No parties?”

  It’s dark enough for my reflection to show in the window. “I didn’t have a lot of friends.”

  “I’ve heard having a birthday in December sucks since it’s so close to Christmas. Don’t worry, we’re totally going to celebrate it this year. You’re stuck with us.”

  My chest tightens as my gaze moves back to her. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Oh hush.”

  I smile at her casual rebuke.

  “What’s the name of that guy you work with again? The one who’s married but his wife lives on another continent.”

  “Duncan?”

  “Yes, you can invite him to the birthday party if you want.”

  “I can see what he’s doing,” I reply.

  Even if he’s busy, he’ll cancel whatever he has going on to come. He’s been chomping at the bit to meet Abby ever since he figured out I like her.

  “How are things going at Samantha’s?”

  I watch as she wets her lips, that simple movement making the temperature inside her car ratchet up.

  She’s lost in thought, her eyes unfocused. “I don’t know.”

  That gets my attention back to where it should be. “Why do say that? Last time you mentioned it, things were going great.”