How We Fall
Page 12
“You made these?” She looks at the table and then back to me.
“Yep.” I rock on my heels. “Well, my mom had to walk me through it, but I did it all myself. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving.” She gives me the biggest smile, and it makes my stomach feel funny, but I just ignore it and figure it’s probably because I worked up an appetite making us waffles.
“So, how was your little sledding adventure with Cole last week?” Joan’s question stops me mid-bite of Corrine’s famous vegetable lasagna.
Lowering my fork, I take a drink of sweet tea, my mouth suddenly dry.
“It was good.” I try to keep my voice light and casual. “It was nice to put away adult things for a day and just be a kid again.”
“Girl,” Corrine chimes in, “if I tried to walk up that hill I’d probably die, pretending to be a kid or not.” She laughs at herself.
“It wasn’t that bad at the time. I will admit, the next couple days were a bit rough. Kinda felt like I had been in a boxing match and lost. My body hurt everywhere.” I shake my head, finishing the bite I had started when Joan brought up Cole.
“So, did anything happen?” Joan’s question has me sucking a noodle down my throat before it’s fully chewed. I spend the next several seconds in a coughing fit before finally regaining some sense of composure.
All three of the people around the table eye me curiously but are polite enough not to say anything. Well, except Joan. Losing Michael has certainly not softened her bluntness.
“I knew it.” She takes my reaction as a sure sign.
“No, no.” I shake my head, wiping my mouth on a napkin before continuing. “It wasn’t anything like that. We just had fun, as friends.”
“When are you two going to stop tiptoeing around each other and just admit that you love each other?” she asks, her expression unapologetic.
“Because we don’t love each other. I mean, not in that way anyway.”
“Do you really think any of us actually believe that?” Kyle finally adds his two cents, pulling my gaze to where he’s sitting directly across from me, a knowing look in his eyes.
“Why do I suddenly feel like everyone in this room knows something that I don’t?” I ask, realizing that Cole must have said something and my attempts at playing it cool are futile.
That has to be the reason they are all acting so weird. I mean, I haven’t even brought up the sledding trip to anyone, haven’t even mentioned it since the day we went.
“You know it, too. Maybe you’re just too stubborn to see it.” Kyle is the only one to respond and the second he does, Corrine lays an elbow to his stomach.
It’s not hard, just enough to get his attention. His gaze flips to her, and she gives her head a slight shake, her way of telling him it’s time to shut up. I’ve been around them long enough to know how they deal with each other.
“Okay, I really have no idea what’s going on here, but if you have something to say, say it already.” I drop my napkin on the table and lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest as my gaze bounces back and forth between the three people sitting around me.
Of course I know exactly what they’re implying, I just want to hear them say it. I want to know what Cole said that has them all so curious. If I have to play completely and utterly clueless to get answers, that’s exactly what I’ll do.
“Oh, sweetie.” Joan pats my leg under the table but doesn’t say more.
Before I can ask again Corrine cuts in, directing her attention to Joan.
“So Kyle tells me you’ve joined some kind of support group for families of fallen soldiers.”
“I have.” Joan nods, and I immediately throw Corrine a grateful yet semi-disappointed look.
I really do want to know what apparently everyone else in this room knows, but at the same time, I hate all the attention on me and feeling like I’m the odd man out of an inside joke.
“It’s not just sons and daughters who are lost,” Joan continues. “Some soldiers leave behind wives and children. And while the amount of deaths taking place has reduced significantly, it still happens.” She pauses for a long moment, letting out a deep breath before continuing. “I want to be there to help others, and in a way that helps me.”
“I think that’s amazing, Joan.” I lean forward and squeeze her hand that’s resting on the table, the reminisce of our previous conversation immediately falling away.
“I’m just trying to take it one day at a time.” I can see the emotion brewing behind her eyes, but she pushes it down. “So, Kyle, tell me about this new job.” The abrupt change doesn’t surprise me. I can’t blame her for not wanting to dwell on everything.
Just like that the conversation turns to Kyle, and I’m thankful to not have it circle back to me through the remainder of dinner.
It isn’t until I’m walking Joan home nearly an hour later that Cole comes back into the conversation.
“I’m really pulling for you two,” Joan says. No elaboration. No names. And yet I know exactly who she’s talking about, again.
“I don’t know what he’s said to you, Joan, but I’m with Nate,” I object, taking her keys from her just feet from her front door.
“I know that. But I also know that you’re fighting the way you feel for him. But, Melanie, you’ve loved that boy since you were little. Just don’t dismiss what you share so easily. Trust me, time is short.” She waits until I unlock her door and hold it open before climbing the stairs.
“You only get so many chances in this life.,” she says, turning back toward me. “Don’t let fear hold you back..” She reaches out and takes the keys I’m extending to her. “Just think about what I’ve said, okay?”
“I will,” I promise, knowing how right she is and yet terrified by it at the same time.
“I’ll come by and visit later this week. Make sure you call me if you need anything.”
“You know I will.” She offers a soft smile. “Have a safe walk home.” She waves before stepping completely inside. “And thank you for making me get out of the house tonight. I needed it.”
“Anytime.”
“Night, sweetie.”
“Goodnight, Joan.” I turn, waiting until I hear the door latch shut and the dead bolt slip into place before taking off toward the house.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I smile when I see I have a new message from Cole, but then guilt slaps me back down when I see I also have one from Nate. I flip my ringer on before clicking on the message icon, deciding to start with Nate’s message.
Nate: I will be at the house when you get back from dinner. Have something to talk to you about that I want to do in person.
My insides twist as a nervous knot forms right in the pit of my stomach.
I try to shake away the nervous feeling that floods through me and focus on Cole’s message. I’m not able to hold in my smile at the sight of his name—Sexiest Man Alive.
Cole: Have you given anymore thought to coming up for a visit? I just closed a huge account and could use a weekend to unwind. What do you say? Maybe make it easy on me for once.
Me: Where’s the fun in making things easy.
I smile, tucking my phone in my pocket as I cross the street toward my house. It dings again before I even reach my front yard.
Cole: Or I can make it hard—very, very hard.
I can’t help the way my cheeks flush with heat at his comment. It’s so surreal having him speak to me in such a sexual way, even if it’s just him being playful. We’ve joked around a lot over the years but never about sex.
Cole: 5211 8th and Vine #301, waffles included
I shake my head and try to wipe away the grin on my face which is easy to do when I spot Nate’s car in the driveway. My nervousness from moments ago returns full force as I push my way inside.
The living room is empty, and the television is off when I enter. If I didn’t know Nate was here, I would think I was alone.
“Nate?” I yell, slidin
g out of my coat and drape it across the arm of the couch.
“In here,” he answers instantly, his voice coming from the kitchen.
When I enter he’s sitting at the table, his laptop in front of him. He looks up when I drop my keys on the table, his eyes filled with undeniable excitement.
“Hey. I got your message. What’s going on?”
“You’re going to want to sit down for this.” He gestures to the chair caddy corner from him.
“O-k-a-y,” I draw out, my heart thudding hard against my ribs.
“Remember when I told you a couple months ago that Chris had talked to me about the job at our Chicago network?”
“Yeah, something about someone retiring?” I phrase it like a question because I remember very little about the situation.
“Well, originally they were looking at having to replace him in the next year, but apparently he’s been dealing with some health issues and has decided to move up his retirement. His last day is in three weeks.”
“Okay, and this has to do with you how?” I ask, not really sure what his point is.
“They offered me the job,” he blurts, equal parts excited and nervous.
“What?” For a moment I’m stunned into silence.
“It’s going to be incredible, Mel. You know Chicago has always been the end goal. I’ve been dying to move back there since college. I just never dreamed I’d be given the chance so soon.”
“I knew you wanted to move back to Chicago, eventually. I just didn’t realize it was something you were considering right now,” I say, at a loss for words.
“I know it’s not ideal,” he says, scooting forward to take my hand. “But I think it would be great for us, Melanie. We could buy a place downtown, and Chicago is an amazing place to continue growing your career. You can’t really ask for a more perfect back drop.”
“You want me to come with you?” The question just falls from my mouth, and by the look on his face it’s not what he expected me to say.
“Of course, I do. Look, the network is covering the cost of an apartment for the first three months to give us time to get settled,” he says, releasing my hand to turn the open laptop toward me. “Just look at this place.”
My attention is drawn to the very contemporary apartment on the screen. Nate flips through the pictures, showing me the view from the balcony, the pool, and the gym. The apartment itself isn’t huge, but it is very nice—two bedroom, one bath in the heart of downtown.
I stare at it for several long moments, honestly a bit stunned by all this. And as much as I wish the thought of Chicago excited me, it just doesn’t. No part of me has any desire to move there.
“But this is my home,” I finally say, meeting Nate’s gaze.
“You can sell it,” he continues. “Even if it takes a few months, I can cover the cost of our place in Chicago until someone buys this house. The network is covering all the moving expenses and the first ninety days of our lease, so it’s really a no-brainer.”
“You’ve already accepted the job?” I ask, not realizing until just this second that this is not a discussion about going; this is a matter of whether or not I will be joining him.
Something about that doesn’t sit right with me. The fact that he accepted it without confirming I would go with him only further solidifies where I stand on his list of priorities.
“I did.” He nods. “Of course, I did. I couldn’t hesitate and risk losing this opportunity. I thought you’d be happy for me?” He sits back in his chair, confusion clear on his face.
“I am happy for you. But you can’t accept a job in another state and just expect me to pack up and leave my life to go with you, especially without discussing it with me first.”
“I just, I just thought you’d be excited.” He blows out a breath.
“I am, for you. But this is my home, Nate. Not once have I ever said that I wanted to leave. Not once. You had no right to assume I’d just pick up and leave at the drop of a hat.”
“It’s just a house, Melanie,” he interjects.
“It’s not about the house.” My voice gets louder despite my need to keep things calm. “This is my home. Yes, I could pack up tomorrow and leave if I wanted to, but I don’t. I don’t want to leave. That’s the whole point.”
“Are you saying you won’t even think about it?”
“I don’t see how I can. You just show up here and drop something on me without once thinking of picking up the phone and talking to me first. That’s not how things work in a relationship, Nate. I’m not a piece of your property that you can just throw in a suitcase and tug along.”
“I never said you were,” he starts.
“But you did. By not asking me first. By assuming I would just upend my life and my career for yours. I’ve accepted your job will always come before me, but this is over the line.” I push my chair back and stand.
“My job does not come before you.” I can sense the aggravation in his voice, feel it in the way he pushes away from the table and stalks to where I’m standing with my back pressed into the counter.
“Yes, it does.” I try not to lose my patience, but I can feel it wearing thin.
I can feel everything I’ve pushed down for the last two years start to boil to the surface.
“Now you’re just making excuses.” He throws his hands up in frustration.
“I’m not making excuses. You wouldn’t see it because you’re too stuck in your laptop or the television to even notice. I speak to you and you don’t respond. I ask you to do things with me and it’s always the same! I’ve got too much work to do. After this page. You know I’m so busy right now, babe.” I impersonate the things he’s said to me more times than I can count, sounding nothing like him but at least getting my point across.
“Now you’re just over exaggerating.” He pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Am I?” I cross my arms in front of myself.
“Why don’t you tell me what this is really about?”
“Excuse me?” I bite, anger lacing my voice.
“Yeah, you heard me.” He steps up until only a foot separates us. “Ever since a certain someone returned to town, you’ve been acting really fucking weird.” I flinch at his use of words; Nate rarely cusses.
“What?”
“Cole, Melanie!” He practically screams in my face. “Do you think I’m really that stupid?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I hold my ground, not willing to discuss this while both of our tempers are showing through.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about and if you need proof, perhaps we should go look at the pictures on your computer; you know, the ones where he’s sleeping on YOUR couch.” His glare cuts me in two, and I struggle to find my footing again.
“He’s my friend. He crashed on the couch. What’s the big deal?” I try to play it off like it’s nothing, but my voice is not at all convincing.
“Do you take pictures like that of all your friends?” he sneers.
“They’re just pictures.”
“They’re not just fucking pictures, Melanie, and you know it. You have something for him. Why don’t you just admit it?”
“He’s my childhood best friend...” I start.
“Yeah, the one you were in love with half your life, or did you forget you told me that bit of information?”
My knees feel weak. Of course, he knew something was up with Cole. The way he eyed him up at the bar that first night. The way he showed up out of the blue because he knew Cole was still in town. The way he clearly was checking my computer hoping to find something that would either prove or disprove his suspicion that something was going on.
“That was years ago,” I object, losing a little ground in this quickly brewing argument.
“Tell me the fucking truth, Melanie!” Nate screams, caging me against the counter. “Just tell me the truth.” His voice weakens. “Do you not want to go to Chicago because you truly don’t want to move, or i
s it more because you don’t want to move further away from him?”
“Nate... I.”
“Stop.” He silences my attempt to speak. “Think long and hard about what you’re about to say, Melanie.”
“We kissed.” It’s off my lips before I can take it back.
The anger on his face is quickly replaced by hurt, and it rips me in half. I hate hurting people, especially people who are supposed to be able to trust me.
“When?” His voice is eerily calm as he says that one word.
“The day we went sledding. I didn’t mean for it to happen. It just kind of did.”
“I knew it.” He backs away from me shaking his head. “I knew it the moment I saw you look at him in the bar; he still had your heart. I knew right then and there that our days together were numbered.”
“Nate.” I reach for his arm, but he shakes me off.
“Don’t!” he warns. “I can’t do this right now. I don’t want to do this right now.” He backs further into the room. “I love you, Melanie. Truly, I do. I want nothing more than for you to move to Chicago with me where we can start the next chapter of our lives together, but you have to want that, too, with your whole heart.”
“You still want me to come with you?” I can’t hide the surprise in my voice.
“Not right now, no. Right now you need time, and frankly, so do I. But I hope after a few days, maybe even weeks, that you realize that I’m the right guy for you. I’ve loved you the best way I know how. And maybe that wasn’t enough, but it was the best I could give. I thought I made you happy.”
“You did. You do,” I correct. “I’m just, things are just; God, I don’t know how I made such a mess of things.”
“I get it.” He shrugs, closing up his laptop and shoving it into his bag.
I swipe at the tears now flowing down my face, furious with myself for letting such a great guy like Nate go, but also not willing to try to convince him to stay. He’s right; we both need time to figure things out.
“It’s hard letting go of your first love,” he continues, “but I don’t want to come in first place because you feel obligated to stay with me. I want you to pick me because I’m who you truly want.” He lifts his bag and drapes it over his shoulder. “I’m going to Chicago, Melanie, and I need you to understand something before I do.” He crosses the distance between us, standing directly in front of me.