The Crashing Series

by Kristen Hope Mazzola

  We shifted gears one more time before the end of the session, talking about a happy memory that shot through my mind, begging to spill out. It was a night that always warmed my heart, and I loved telling the story to anyone who would listen. After Randy’s death, it had barely crossed my mind, but right when the words dripped from my tongue, warmth and love spread over my body, relaxing me as I melted into the memories.

  Being in a sorority during college, Cali and I had attended what was called chapter. Every Sunday evening, we had a meeting to discuss different things going on at school, with our philanthropy, and within our chapter. This particular night was pretty boring, all the way up until the end. Cali and I kept nodding off through droning minutes and various motions about how our grades needed to start improving and how nationals was closing down a chapter at some college in the Midwest none of us had ever heard of.

  At the end of the meeting, our president, a skinny, tall redhead named Mackie Gerhardt, announced that there was going to be a circle that evening. Instantly the buzz of whispers bounced off the walls in the chapter room. Everyone was wondering who it could be for. Cali and I looked at each other with puzzled grins, trying to figure it out ourselves.

  A circle was held at the end of the chapter to honor a sister who had just been given a promise ring, gotten engaged, or was given her fraternity boyfriend’s letters on a necklace called a lavaliere. There would be a candle lit and we would pass it around the circle of sisters, singing. When the song was over, the girl the circel was for would blow out the candle. The best part about all of it was that the president and the woman of honor were the only ones who knew, so it was always a big surprise. After the sister revealed herself, she would get into the middle of the circle and tell us how her beau had given the new shiny piece of jewelry to her. It was always heartwarming and a great chance for girls to try to one-up each other.

  We all gathered around, started to sing, and passed the candle around the room. The song kept going, and everyone was anxiously anticipating finding out who it was for. We knew from the song that one of our sisters had gotten a lavaliere, but no one was claiming the candle.

  Suddenly, the doors to our chapter room swung open and Randy was standing in the doorway smiling. My heart jumped. He coolly walked over to Michelle, my sister about ten girls down from me, who was still holding the candle. After taking it from her, Randy winked at her quickly and brought the candle to me. He held it up and whispered, “Blow it out, baby!” I did, and he kissed me softly on the forehead as tears started to pool in my eyes. Randy then reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin silver necklace with his fraternity letters glistening in the light. Tears of surprise and excitement streamed down my cheeks as he put the necklace around my neck, and my entire body shook. Smiling down at me, Randy wiped the tears from my cheeks and told me that he would love me forever. All of the girls were giggling and excitedly whispering about how sweet Randy was.

  When my story was finished, I felt Candice shove a tissue into my hand. Then I heard her blow her nose. “That really is a beautiful memory.” Her eyes were wet, but she had a soft grin on her lips.

  “Yeah, he really was something else.” I tried to turn the corners of my lips up but failed miserably, wiping the tears from my cheeks, chin, and chest.

  “Well, Mags, I will see you next week. I think we can call this session a success.”

  I waved at her as I made my way to Randy’s old truck. I sat in the parking lot for a few minutes, decompressing from my emotional rollercoaster ride. My mind went over all the points from our session, and I thought that maybe I should start taking notes too. Seeing Randy’s kind eyes with that stupid candle in his hands in my memory gave me a wonderful warm feeling that lasted all the way to my front door. Turning the key to my house, I paused. Who the hell am I going to be able to talk into moving in with a complete fucking basket case like me?

  Ten

  I climbed onto my couch, glass of Pinot Noir in hand, replaying my conversation with Candice again. How could she think she knows how I am at home? How could she tell me I shouldn’t be alone? Maybe she's right. The house was intolerable to be in; it almost felt hollow, just like the pit of my stomach. The feeling of helplessness washed over me, settling in, becoming overwhelmed by my own thoughts. I melted into a puddle of tears and wine, throwing yet another pity party for myself. There hadn’t been a handbook given to me at Randy’s funeral. Being the widow of a soldier wasn’t something I’d been prepared to be, especially so young.

  Flicking on the TV for some white noise, I forced myself not to think about what my plan was going to be. There’s always tomorrow. I sighed and curled up in the fluffy comfort of my peach-colored throw. I rounded off my forced relaxation by topping off my wine glass, eating a TV dinner of lasagna, and watching an overly girly romantic comedy.

  Throughout the next day at work, I was thankful for the craziness of my workload. My desk was piled high with unemployment documents I had to sort through. I gladly dived into the sea of papers, getting as much done as possible. The distraction from my life outside the hospital was a welcome vacation for my mind every day. But, sadly, all good things come to an end, and five o’clock came before I knew it.

  Sitting in the parking lot, not really ready to start driving, I was lost in thought about the solution to my predicament. I knew it was in my best interest to at least try to find a roommate, but I wasn’t sure who could put up with me—or I them—day in and day out. Then, a light bulb went off as I started the old Ford engine. Walker!

  I grinned a little. It’s perfect! He was just as lonely as I was, and he was one of my best friends. I would have asked Cali, but she was married and we’d tried to live together during college; it hadn’t gone very well. I was actually shocked that Cali and I were still close after our roommate-hood had crumbled into a pit of drama.

  Without thinking through my little epiphany, I had my phone dialing Walker and heard his deep, Southern voice on the other end. For some reason, a smile burst across my face as I heard his drawl. "Hey, Mags. How’s it going?"

  I could hear that he was smiling too. I wondered if it was me who’d made that happen, and the thought flushed my cheeks.

  "Walker, I have a question." My heart started pounding, but I made myself shake off the nerves fluttering through me. Recently feeling this way while talking to Walker was still confusing, so I paused, second-guessing if it was a good idea or not. Not letting myself change the subject, I continued the conversation as planned. I jumped right into my therapist‘s suggestion and how I couldn’t think of anyone who would ever want to live with a basket case like me.

  Not even letting me get to asking, in a warm tone, Walker answered, "Of course I'll move in and help your crackpot-self get back on track. Honestly, I could probably use the company myself. As long as you treat me better than you did Cal; I don’t know if my skin is as tough as y’all’s.”

  I was practically giddy with relief. "Wow, that’s a load off. Want to come over later and hammer out the details?" We made plans for eight, and with that, I felt like a little bit of weight had been lifted.

  As I put the Ford in drive, I stopped myself from doubting the hasty decision I’d just made. How bad could it really be? It really was going to be nice to have a guy around the house again. I needed to figure something out anyway. The limbo that had been consuming my life lately needed to be shaken up. Pulling into my driveway, I resolved to make the best of things and that my therapist had to know best. In the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but be apprehensive about sharing my personal space, but it wasn’t like Walker would be sharing my room.

  My house was way too big for just me. Randy and I had purchased it right after our wedding with the idea of filling it with the four or five children we wanted to have. It had five bedrooms, four and a half bathrooms, a living room, a dining room, a family room, a detached garage I used as storage and parking for my unused Mercedes, and a converted garage Randy had been planning on turning in
to his office-slash-man-cave when he got back from deployment. Needless to say, all of the rooms other than my bedroom and the common spaces were untouched.

  Opening the front door, I threw my briefcase and purse on the side table and kicked my heels off, shoving them underneath it. I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a much-needed glass of wine. It was the end of my bottle. Frowning, I grabbed my phone to text Walker to see if he could bring some from Liz. She and I always traded back and forth when one of our stashes ran low.

  I glanced at the time on my phone when Walker texted back saying that he had been able to scrounge up a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and would bring it over with him. A twinge of nerves ran down my spine as I anticipated his arrival in ten minutes. My mind raced and I tried to calm myself, remembering how great a friend he had always been to Randy and me. How I couldn’t have lived without him recently. How, sadly enough, he was the only one I trusted in Randy’s home.

  The doorbell rang; I took a deep breath and answered it.

  "Mags, how are ya, roomie?" Walker was smiling, leaning on the doorjamb, holding the bottle of wine, Chinese takeout, and a Redbox rental. He was wearing a tightfitting green V-neck, the sleeves clinging to his biceps perfectly, just barely showing the tattoo of a blacktip shark swimming through a reef on his right upper arm. The rest of his artwork was covered by his clothes, and I bit my lip, thinking of them all. I knew his sinewy body well from having accompanied him and Randy for their ink sessions and all of our time spent fishing or at the beach together. I couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked in green since it brought out his breathtaking eyes.

  I invited him in, giggling to myself with the realization of being a widow and now having a roommate; it was utterly ass-backwards to me.

  He walked in and set everything in the living room while I went to grab plates from the kitchen. Before I could even get the dishes out of the cabinet, Walker was standing right behind me. "This is going to be interesting. I can hear Randy cursing at me with a closed fist from Heaven.”

  I smiled and gestured toward the living room. "Come on, roomie. It’s not like we're sleeping together." I looked up to the ceiling. "Don’t worry, babe. This is chiefly because of doctor's orders."

  Walker stared at the floor with a wilted look I'd never seen before.

  "What's up, Walker? Why the long face?"

  He dug his hands farther into his pockets, shrugging his shoulders. "Just miss him, that’s all." He smiled, shaking off his foul expression, and plopped onto the couch.

  We gobbled down our dinners and laughed at the top of our lungs at the stupid comedy he’d picked out. The evening flew by effortlessly. It was times like that when my guilt about being alive settled in. I felt bad for trying to live a happy, full life while my heart was buried in a dead man’s chest.

  "That movie was awful! You're picking out the next one, Mags." Walker stood up to stretch, scratching his full belly.

  I nodded with agreement. "So when are you going to move in?"

  Walker's light green eyes seemed to be reading my expression while he paused, finally answering with a tooth-filled smile, "Whenever you want. This is all up to you. I’ll be glad to be out of that musty converted den—finally." Walker had originally planned on moving back to Nowhere, Georgia, when he came home but never went through with it. I always silently felt guilty, almost responsible, for his decision to stick around. Walker always said that he couldn’t make anywhere else home anymore. He never really talked about his family much, so I’d just left it alone, figuring they were a sore subject.

  I met his gaze with a warm grin. "How about tomorrow? I already cleaned out the guest room."

  He agreed and said that he'd get a few buddies to help him while I was at work the next day. We said our goodnights and he kissed me on the forehead while we hugged goodbye. "By this time tomorrow, you'll be regretting your decision, watch!"

  He and I both laughed. "Wanna bet?" I grinned, waved goodbye as he trotted down the steps, and then locked the door.

  I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something felt different—in me, in the house, in Walker. I wasn’t sure which it was or if it was a combination of it all, but I was finding a new appreciation for the intuition of Candice and her little button nose.

  * * *

  The next day was a blur of paper pushing and phones ringing off the hook. A combination of nerves and excitement kept me preoccupied all day. The clock ticked by at a snail's pace, and finally five o'clock came. I slid into the driver’s seat of my Mercedes, uncomfortable driving it, but I’d left Randy’s truck at home just in case Walker needed it. I knew he wasn’t going to since he was not moving furniture and the houses were within walking distance, but I’d felt like I needed to help—or try to, at least, in some way.

  When I pulled into my driveway, Walker was sitting on my front porch, smoking a cigarette. "Hey, Mags, how was work?"

  "Ugh, long, boring. How did it go? All settled in?" I waltzed toward him, relishing in how good it was to have a warm greeting upon my arrival again.

  "Yeah, pretty much. Want to go grab a drink later at The Saloon to celebrate like we would have in college?" He looked down at me with a slight grin before he stood up straight, smoothing out his cotton shirt. Damn, he could be so attractive. Flicking the butt of his Newport into the ashtray, he let his eyebrow rise to question my delayed response.

  "Oh, what the hell!” I matched Walker’s smothering glare, licking my lips slightly and wrapping my arms around his neck. "I'll go get changed and we can grab some food first.” Chills passed over me when his hand glided into mine, our eyes meeting, and for a split second, I was reminded of how attracted I actually was to him. “Come on, soldier. Let's go into our house."

  Once we were inside, we stood and stared at each other for a moment. Seeing that I was smoldering under his gaze, Walker released my hand and sat on the couch. "I'll watch TV while you get ready."

  I pulled on my favorite dark blue boot-cut jeans and a white tank top, checking myself out in the mirror. I’d lost a lot of weight from my lack of healthy nutrition; I almost looked sick. I had always been athletic, very strong but skinny. Most of my muscle definition had disappeared, and my collarbone stuck out a little too far.

  I frowned while pulling on my dark brown cowboy boots. I left my hair down and straight. It was so long that the ends were almost touching my belt. I did a dark smoky eye and dabbed a light layer of blush over my cheeks. Finally happy with what I saw in the mirror, I had to admit that I finally looked halfway alive, more in my element at the very least.

  "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" I jumped at Walker's murmur behind me in the doorway.

  "Walker! Don’t do that! You scared the shit out of me." I had been alone in my house for so long that having a roommate was going to take some adjusting.

  He scowled, crossing his arms. "I didn’t mean to. I thought you could hear me pounding up those hollow-ass stairs."

  I took a few steps closer to him, did a twirl, and kissed him on the cheek. "You're sweet. Sorry for yelling. Let's go. I'm starving!"

  Walker dug his keys out of his pocket and we were out the door for our first "roomie adventure”, as Walker named it.

  At dinner, we drank a bottle of cheap Italian wine and gnashed on steaks and mashed potatoes. By the time we got to The Saloon, it was packed with people line dancing up a storm. I smiled and pointed over to the back bar where we’d spent most of our college years. Walker nodded, grabbing my hand to lead me through the crowd.

  A little blond bartender came scooting over to us as we took the only two empty seats. "Why, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, Walker!" She batted her eyelashes at him and then smiled at me with a twinge of disgust, asking through gritted teeth what I’d be drinking.

  I smiled, not caring for her distasteful look or tone. “I’ll have whatever he’s having, darling.”

  She glared at me through menacing slits before turning to reach into the cooler. She spun a
round and slammed two Budweiser bottles onto the bar, winked at Walker with a playful grin, and then retreated to the other end of the bar.

  “What was that about? Is she another notch in the old belt?" I giggled, the wine already starting to loosen me up.

  Walker started to peel the label off his bottle, biting his lip. "Not all of us find true love freshman year, darlin’. I know I've been around a little too much in this town to take you anywhere. Sorry." He sighed, glanced over at the blonde hothead, and then slammed his beer back, drinking it all.

  The little blonde popped over and opened another beer, angrily snarling, "Should I just keep them coming for you and your girl?"

  "Yeah, it's for the best. Start a tab, will ya Cindy?"

  She nodded, going over to her computer to type in our order. I felt bad for the computer screen; she was jabbing at it, probably pretending it was Walker’s—or my—eyeballs.

  "Why didn’t you tell her we aren’t together?" Walker had never turned down a repeat customer, even if she was a bad lay. If I’d learned anything about Walker while he had been Randy's roommate it was that he was a complete horn-dog and I had been lucky to be taken by his best friend.

  "Maybe I don’t want her to think we're not. She was a terrible fuck and started asking to go out on dates. I don’t date. I sleep with ’em, but I don’t care about ’em." He grabbed my hand. "Want to play with her a little?"

  After looking down at our entwined fingers, I looked up into Walker’s gorgeously playful eyes. “I don’t know, Walker. She’s harmless, isn’t she?”

  A devilish grin spread across his drunken face. “Aw, come on. It ain’t gonna hurt anyone. It’s all in good fun.”

  With a deep breath, I figured it might be fun to play along and get a little closer to Walker, even if it was make-believe. "Yeah, for sure. Why the hell not? She was a bitch in the first place." I shrugged, teasingly giggling and smiling at Walker, starting our little game off. He leaned over and kissed my cheek for a little longer than usual. My face flushed against his warmth, and I took his hand.