Fall in Love

by Anthology

  “By ‘everything’ I am assuming you mean the mind-blowing orgasm,” she heard Jason say just as he pulled the door shut and roared off, giving her no chance to have the last word.

  “Oh. My. God.” Disbelief in her current circumstances ran through her as she stood in the empty parking lot.

  She closed her eyes as she wondered how she would ever survive until Sunday.

  ---~---

  Pulling out of the back parking lot behind Bella, Jason was again shocked at what had just transpired. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that would happen. Well, all right, maybe in his wildest dreams. But certainly not in any dream he’d ever thought would come (no pun intended) to fruition did he expect what had happened to actually come (that pun somewhat intended) to pass.

  It had taken every ounce of self-control Jason had within him not to pull Katie down beneath him in the cab of the truck, push her jeans down, and finish what he'd started.

  He'd never meant for things to go that far. But it was becoming blatantly obvious that when he was around Katie, he could not control himself. Normally, he lived by the creed that if you couldn't control a situation, then you shouldn't to try to. ‘God grant me the serenity’ and all that. If a situation was beyond your control, you should just go along for the ride.

  He wasn’t sure if that was the best course of action when it came Katie, but he was sure that if he didn’t start showing some small amount of self-control around her he might just push her away again. This time, it might be for good.

  He tried to get his body under control as he headed towards the construction site. This was the largest job that Sloan Construction had undertaken and he needed to stay on top of it this weekend, wedding or no wedding. Bob, Jason’s dad, was semi-retired, and Jason felt more than certain that, if everything went well with this build, his dad would finally hand over the reins of Sloan Construction to him.

  The fall after high school graduation, Jason had headed to college. With Nick’s death and Katie’s disappearing act, Jason was more than ready to hightail it out of Illinois and get to NYU to study journalism. He had loved NYU. He had loved the fast pace of the city. He’d loved feeling like he was in the middle of something bigger every minute of the day. He’d felt like he was really learning a lot about life, and about himself.

  Jason came home to Harper's Crossing that Christmas break, secretly hoping that Katie would have returned to visit her mom. But sadly, that was not the case. After speaking to Pam, Katie’s mom, and finding out that Katie had changed her plans and opted to stay in California for the holiday, Jason had made a spur-of-the-moment decision to book a flight out to the Sunshine State to face Katie and discuss what had gone on between them the previous August. He needed to see her, to make sure she was okay.

  Pam had told him that she and Wendy had gone out and visited Katie during Thanksgiving break and that their observation had been this: Katie was dealing with her grief the same way that Katie dealt with everything—by burying herself in her studies. She did soften that somewhat, however, by saying that Katie genuinely seemed to love her school and that she had decided to study law.

  All of this information should have eased the knot Jason had not realized, until then, had been in his stomach since that fateful night in August. But it didn’t. So many things were happening in Katie’s life that Jason didn’t have firsthand knowledge of. He didn't like that feeling. He didn't like it at all. He was used to getting all of his information straight from the source—from Katie. He didn’t like having to hear about her life from a third party, even if the third party was her mom. His mind was made up. He had to speak to Katie in person and look her in the eyes to make sure she was okay.

  He booked a flight from O’Hare to LAX that left Christmas Eve. He felt comforted just knowing he held the ticket. It would be only two more days and he would see his Kit Kat. He would beg for her forgiveness and—knowing Katie—she would lecture him and explain why their behavior was wrong, but she would forgive him.

  He hoped.

  Unfortunately, the day before Jason was to fly to California, his father had a heart attack. Jason had to step in and handle the business. His two older brothers, Seth and Riley, were overseas in the military. His two younger brothers, Alex and Bobby, were only sixteen and fourteen. Kids.

  There was no one else but Jason. He had no choice.

  It seemed like that had been his life's mantra from that point forward. There's no one else but me. I've got no choice. Yep. He might as well have had it tattooed across his forehead.

  His dad's heart attack, as it turned out, was major, and Jason had to step even further into the business that spring, taking over all daily operations. What had originally been a plan to take a few weeks off turned into a semester, and that turned into a year. One year turned into two, and so it went.

  At age twenty-four, after six years of working full time for his dad, Bob named Jason V.P. and had basically been grooming him for the last four years to take over when Bob retired.

  Jason had made peace with it—he really had. He even looked forward to being the one in charge. He had so many plans for Sloan Construction, starting with a logo and a website. Bob was really old fashioned and believed that there was no need for a construction company to have any sort of “new” website or “fancy” logo.

  Jason did not agree. He wanted an interactive website with 3D blueprints that were accessible to clients so that changes could be made and approved no matter where the client was. He wanted virtual tours of some of the past jobs. He wanted testimonials, for crying out loud. At the very least.

  He thought that they should have Facebook and Twitter accounts. It was time for Sloan Construction to join the social media revolution. And they most certainly needed a logo. Something that could be put on signs and then hung on fences of the job sites they were working on. A little brand recognition could go a long way.

  Jason also knew that his dad needed to retire. He looked as though he had aged thirty years, in the last ten, since his heart attack. He had worked so hard all of his life. God knows, owning his own business and raising five boys, alone, could not have been easy on the old man.

  Not that Bob had ever complained. That would have been completely contrary to his nature. He just worked hard and made sure that there was food on the table, clothes on their backs, and punishments handed out if any of the boys started acting up or stepped out of line.

  Jason knew that having your wife walk out on you when you had five boys ranging in ages from two to ten had to shake you up a bit, but Bob never let it show. Not that Jason could remember anyway.

  Jason didn't have many memories left of his mother, Cheryl, now. Most of his memories consisted of a constant low-lying sense of dread. The knowledge that he had to be quiet all the time in the house because she was always resting. He remembered seeing her crying many times when he would go into her room to ask if he could have a snack or go out and play. She would never answer him. She would just wave a hand to dismiss him.

  When he thought of her, in fact, that was the image that most often came to mind—her huddled under her covers and staring blankly at the wall, sniffling, tears flowing unchecked from her eyes for no apparent reason.

  But then there was this whole other side to her that came out sometimes. She would come into his room in the middle of the night, wake him up, and they would go out and catch fireflies together. Or he would come home from school and find that she had baked a cake, and they would sit there and eat the whole entire thing together, just the two of them.

  One time, she had been taking him to school when she suddenly turned to him, eyes lit up with a fiery glow, and said, “Let's blow this Popsicle stand. You wanna?”

  Of course, being a very young child, he had just nodded. With no set plan in mind, she just started driving out of town. They didn’t come home for three days. His father was worried sick when they walked in the door and had shaken five-year-old Jason by the shoulders, shouting, “Don't you
ever do that again! Do you hear me? Do not ever leave and not tell me where you're going!”

  Jason had noticed even at that young age that, although his dad was definitely furious with his mom, he didn't even bother telling her never to do it again.

  It had obviously never even occurred to Jason, on their impromptu vacation, that no one had known where they were or that he should have called his father. It was the first inkling he had that, despite his young age, he needed to be the responsible one in charge.

  He didn’t have any memories, at all, of his mother doing normal ‘Mom’ things like cooking dinner, tucking them into bed, helping with homework, or taking them to the park. Those were too mundane and stifling for her during her manic phases and far too much for her to handle during the depressed times. Which unfortunately seemed to be triggered by special events like birthdays or holidays. There was not one single picture of Cheryl with her husband and sons during those occasions. Not at Halloween. Not at Thanksgiving. Not at Christmas, even during the years she still lived with them.

  Now that Jason was an adult, he knew and understood that his mom suffered from bipolar disorder. All of those crazy, spontaneous things she had done with him hadn't been driven by a sudden, passionate need to get in some mother-son bonding time with her middle child after all. They had been the product of her illness. Intellectually, he got that. Emotionally…he couldn't help it. He still treasured them. In her manic, fevered way, they had bonded. She could have gone off on her adventures alone. She hadn't. She'd brought him along, creating a weird and wonderful world that only Jason and Mom understood. Even in the throes of her illness, she had reached out to him, at times. That had to mean something. Right?

  After his mom, had left their family, she moved in with her parents. About a year after that, she was placed in a psychiatric treatment facility as a result of attempting to take her own life. At the time, Jason was just told that his mom was in the hospital because she was “sick.” Jason hadn’t understood entirely. He just hoped that she would get better. Maybe if she wasn't sick anymore, she'd want to come home.

  Well, rather than improving, she got “sick” four more times over the next three years. It got to the point that the whole thing seemed so abstract to Jason's young mind that he couldn't even bring himself to feel all that upset anymore when he was told about her hospitalizations.

  Finally, the fifth time she got “sick” she did not recover. Jason was ten by then, and by that point he knew what getting “sick” was a euphemism for. They were talking about the crying jags, the outbursts, even the 'crazy fun' times—all the things that made her not like other moms.

  Jason didn’t cry at her funeral. His older brothers, Seth and Riley, did. Bobby and Alex did not. They were too young. They’d never really known Cheryl. The boys never spoke about it with each other and their dad never talked to them about it. In fact, the only person Jason had ever spoken to, about his mother, was Katie.

  18 Years Ago

  There were a lot of people at his house after his mom’s funeral. All the adults were speaking in hushed voices, saying how young Cheryl was, how beautiful, what a shame this had to happen.

  Jason sat on his living room couch listening to all the voices surrounding him, and with every passing moment, it felt more and more like the walls were closing in on him. The whole room was spinning. Everything kept going all blurry.

  Then all at once, he was saved. He felt a soft hand tugging on his elbow, pulling him up and off the couch. His body felt heavy as he was dragged through the house to the front door. The cold air hit him, like a slap in the face, as he stepped out onto the wooden porch.

  He tried to breathe in the fresh air. He took a deep breath and then another deep breath and then another. But soon his breaths started coming too fast and hard. He fell to his knees and tried even harder to slowly breathe in and out.

  The wind was completely knocked out of him. He couldn’t get control of his breathing. He was starting to feel lightheaded, and a sensation swept over him like he was falling.

  He began to panic and squeezed his eyes shut, willing the rest of the world to just disappear. Or maybe he was willing himself to disappear.

  He was shaking his head back and forth, trying to make everything go away, when he felt his face being cradled by two of the softest hands he could ever remember feeling.

  His whole body stilled immediately at the sensation of her hands on his face. He opened his eyes to see Katie kneeling on the grass in front of him, looking into his eyes. She was talking, but he couldn’t hear her. All he could hear was a loud buzzing. He tried to concentrate. He tried to focus.

  Slowly the buzzing faded out, leaving room for her voice to come through.

  “That’s good, Jas. Just look at me. Don't think about anything. Just focus on me. That’s good now. Just relax.”

  He didn't even try to process what she was saying. He just held on to the soothing pattern of her voice.

  He felt as if he were coming out of a deep sleep. The world around him started to gain clarity, bit by tiny bit.

  Just when he was starting to get his bearings and feel like himself again, Katie removed her hands from his face and plopped down on the wooden porch beside him.

  Jason wasn’t sure what had just happened. He didn’t know if he needed a doctor or...? He felt confused and embarrassed and he didn’t want to turn his head and look at his great savior. He had no idea what she must be thinking about him. He was still battling with this quandary when he felt her slip her slim, soft hand into his and lay her head softly on his shoulder.

  Jason felt the silkiness of her hair as it brushed down the side of his arm. He smelled the strawberry scent of her shampoo as she nestled against him. They sat like that for what felt like hours, neither of them saying anything.

  He forgot about the funeral, the people’s whispered voices in his home, about his dad seeming sadder than he had ever seen a man look, his older brothers acting angry with him, and his little brothers looking confused and lost. Basically, he forgot about the rest of the world.

  It was just him and Katie in the little bubble of the front porch, and an incredible sense of calm came over him. He wasn’t sad or scared or confused or upset. He just WAS.

  When people started emerging from the house and making their way down the porch steps, the exclusionary bubble that had formed around the two of them burst. As his Aunt Lois came to say goodbye to him, he stood and felt the small hand that had been his anchor, fall from his grasp. He said goodbye to several other relatives, friends of the family, and even some people he didn’t recognize. All the while, Katie stood beside him, quietly offering support.

  After a few minutes, she grabbed his hand, once again, and dragged him over to the side of his garage. Picking up his bike, which was leaning against the wooden door, she shoved it towards him and then gracefully swung one leg over her own bike and began riding down the driveway.

  He did what any ten-year-old boy would do and just followed her.

  She rode through town, and he was right behind her the whole way. She rode over Craw Bridge, through old man Picklers’ field, and up and over Gibler Hill until she reached the river.

  He was breathing heavily as he skidded to a halt next to her. When he looked over at her, he saw that her face was flushed and pink. She dismounted from her bike, setting it to the side and walking out to the edge of the river. She slipped her sandals off and sat on a flat rock while her feet dangled in the water.

  Jason hopped off his own bike, took off his shoes, and sat down on the rock beside Katie. Rolling up his dress slacks, he put his feet in the water beside hers. He didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. They sat in that silence for a few moments until Katie broke it, her voice matter of fact.

  “My mom used to hyperventilate a lot,” she said and shrugged. “It started right after we moved here actually. It would happen one or two times a week. Usually Aunt Wendy was there and she would talk her through it, but I had t
o do it a couple of times when Aunt Wendy wasn’t around. If it gets really bad then you have to breathe into a paper bag and that usually does the trick.”

  Jason was amazed. He had just experienced one of the strangest, most embarrassing episodes in his short life—and the girl who had not only been witness to it, but also saved him from it, seemed to think it was as common as a headache.

  Okay, well…he guessed that if she wasn’t going to make a big deal about it, he shouldn’t either. Maybe she even knew why it had happened to him. It couldn’t hurt to ask. Attempting to sound as nonchalant as possible, he said, “So why'd your mom have 'em?”

  “They were stress-induced,” she said, obviously repeating a term she had heard adults use many times to describe her mother's episodes and feeling very adult herself now that she was the one doing the explaining. She patted his hand comfortingly. “Losing your mom is a big deal, Jas. Even if she hasn’t been around for a while. Maybe even more because of that. I know I would be upset if my dad died, and I haven’t seen him in years.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Jason sighed. “I mean, yeah. It’s not like she was around or anything, but it’s just weird to think that she is really gone forever. Like…I will never see her again. Like…all the things I might ever want to say to her…I can't now. Even though I couldn't before, because she wasn't here, it was still like…maybe one day she would be. You know?” Katie nodded sagely.

  They sat in silence for a few more moments, and then Katie took his hand again and leaned her head against his shoulder. They sat there together, holding hands while they watched the river rush by and felt its power sweep past their feet, and Jason thought to himself, I'm probably the worst person in the history of the world for thinking this, but…this might be the best day of my whole entire life.

  He thought that his mom might have understood his feeling that way. He hoped so.