Free Falling

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Free Falling Page 20

by Makenzie Smith


  I scooted in closer to him, touching him as much as I could. “This,” I said. “Be here. Stay on his side. He needs you right now. I don’t know what any of this means. I can’t tell you that he’ll get better, but he loves you. I know he does. So much. The one time I met him, he spoke so fondly of you.”

  “Yeah,” was all he could say without becoming emotional.

  We sat in silence for a few more minutes before Wally decided that he was ready to go back in.

  “Do you want me to stay?” I asked. “I don’t want to intrude if this is—”

  “Yes,” he cut me off. “I want you to stay.” He grabbed my hand and brought me back to the waiting area.

  For hours, we sat in that room, waiting. His family all eyed me suspiciously, and most of them probably had their own judgments already passed. I was the girl who’d dated Trey and was now suddenly here with Wally. None of them, except Maggie, knew that Wally and I had even dated, even though it had lasted significantly longer with him than Trey.

  I ignored them, and focused on Wally. We hardly spoke, but I knew he was grateful for me, glad that I’d come. More so when a doctor came in at 4 a.m. and told us that Theodore had a brain tumor.

  Chapter 44

  The next few days were hard. I tried to be there for Wally as much as I could, but he was in a daze—there, but not there. Sometimes when I sat with him at the hospital it was like he didn’t even know I was in the room. He’d stare at a spot on the wall or close his eyes and then abruptly walk away.

  But I was committed. I brought him clothes. I made sure that he ate. Even though it was uncomfortable with his family shooting me their icy stares or whispering to each other, I stayed with him as much as I could.

  They learned that Theodore had a tumor. It was large and hadn’t appeared on any of his previous scans. The second day we learned that it was cancerous, aggressive. They still couldn’t wake him and decisions had to be made. Lisa took over after that. Theo hadn’t named a medical power of attorney and since she was his eldest, and certainly most vocal child, her word suddenly became the law. No one except Wally had even tried to defy her, but after arguing and pleading, he realized that it was a losing battle. She was too pushy, too manipulative.

  As far as I knew, Wally never left the hospital. He slept either in the waiting room or on a tiny loveseat next to his grandfather’s hospital bed. I didn’t like going in there. Theo didn’t look like Theo. The tall arms of the bed, the bedding up to his neck—it was too easy to picture him encased in a coffin. Even though I never said it aloud, I knew, Wally did, too. Theo was more than likely never going to wake up. And even if he did, he wouldn’t live long.

  I couldn’t imagine what he felt. First, he lost pieces of him to the Alzheimer’s, and now…this. There would be no chance to say goodbye, no final hug or tender moment. All that he had left was this wait. This agony.

  Theo had been in the hospital for three days. I had just gotten off work and headed straight there. I found Wally standing in front of a window down the hall from Theo’s room, his hands linked behind his head. He was deep in thought, and I wasn’t sure if I should approach him. Deliberating, I stood by the elevator doors, watching him.

  “He needs to get out of here,” his mother said, standing next to me.

  “He doesn’t want to leave,” I told her. “I tried last night.”

  “Pawpaw wouldn’t want this for him,” she said. “It would infuriate him if he knew that he was spending all this time moping and carrying on.” She wasn’t being hateful, saying the words with a soft, nostalgic smile, remembering her father. “He’d never admit it to anyone,” she continued, “but Wally was always his favorite. I’m not saying that because I’m his mother. It was true.” She paused regarding her son with a sentimental sigh. “He never left him,” she said. “As he grew up, he kept coming back, needing him, wanting him. It made Dad feel special.” Suddenly, her eyes filled with tears. “Well, I should go check on him,” she said and walked towards her father’s room.

  Wally was tense, each of his movements stiff, robotic. He really should leave. As far as I knew he hadn’t been off the hospital grounds since his grandfather was admitted. I went to him, putting an arm around his waist as I moved to stand in front of him.

  “How are you?” I asked. He shrugged. “Are you hungry? Tired?” Another shrug. I brought a hand to his face and forced him to look at me. “Let me take you home with me,” I said. “You can take a shower, sleep in a bed. I want to take care of you, Wally.” He regarded me, pondering my request. “Your mom will call you if anything happens, and I’ll bring you right back. I promise.”

  He nodded.

  Wordlessly, he followed me to my car and rode home with me. He spoke in short sentences and only if he was asked a direct question. “Do you want chicken or steak?”

  “Either.”

  “Then I’ll make both.”

  “Steak.”

  “Do you need to go by your house to get some clothes?”

  “I’m good.”

  “It won’t be a problem for me to wash yours.”

  “I can do that.”

  I didn’t let his coldness hurt my feelings. He was going through something tough and didn’t need to be worrying about me.

  At my house, he walked straight to the bathroom and stripped down. When I heard the shower start, I took his dirty clothes from the floor and put them in the washing machine. I searched my room for extra clothes for him, wishing that I hadn’t thrown out all the ones he’d left there. On the last drawer, my “dump” drawer with all the clothes I never wore or only did if I felt frumpy, I found a pair of overlarge sweats and one of his t-shirts—one I’d forgotten about.

  Quietly, I slipped into the bathroom and placed them on the counter.

  I wasn’t the best cook, but did my best as I heard him finishing up. He lingered in the bathroom just long enough for me to finish the steak and microwave a potato. I poured him a beer and sat it and the food on the table.

  From my kitchen sink, I could see him come in and stand in front of the plate of food. He grabbed the fork and picked at the potato. So he wouldn’t think I was hovering or mothering, I started washing the dirty pan.

  “I love you,” I heard from the door and stilled. My lungs seized and I shut off the water. Did Wally just tell me that he loved me?

  I turned to face him. “What?” I asked, breathlessly.

  “I love you,” he said again. “It’s crazy. When we met, I thought that it would be just some fun thing I could do for a while. You were cool. I was attracted to you, but something just happened. I didn’t try to make it happen or force it. It just did. I fell for you harder than I’ve ever fallen for anyone. And yeah, it scared the shit out of me, but it was also the greatest I’ve ever felt. Because I knew that you loved me too. All of me. The true me.”

  He inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I know that you’re doing all of this because you still love me too, I just hope…I hope…Please tell me that it’s not too late for us, that I didn’t fuck all this up.”

  “You didn’t,” I rushed out.

  He expelled a relieved breath. “Thank God,” he said. “We can take it slow, we can start…”

  I let him continue talking as I approached him, not caring about anything else he said. Wally Nikolokakis loved me. Nothing else he said mattered.

  He was still rambling, making promises, spilling his heart. I cradled his face and kissed him. He moaned against my lips, his words forgotten. I’d started this, taken the initiative, but he was holding on to too much and pulled me up against him, opening his mouth over mine.

  He led me to the couch and settled between my legs. We were clothed, but as our mouths became reacquainted, he slowly pulled my pants down my hips. I helped him, kicking out of them as they reached my legs.

  There was nothing between us but my ratty sweatpants. I peeled them off him. Without wasting a second, he slid inside me. Mouths open, his eyes starin
g into mine, we savored it. I belonged with him. Everything about him felt right. I was at peace. Content. My soul had settled, stopped its chase for meaning. It wasn’t searching any longer. It had no need to.

  His hands settled on me as he moved, rushed erratic breaths leaving us. Neither of us would be able to last long. My knees pulled high, needing to feel him as deep as I could. When that still wasn’t enough, I pushed onto his hips, forcing each of his slow thrusts to stay inside me just a second longer.

  “Punks,” he whispered. “I can’t…You can’t…”

  “I missed you,” I breathed.

  “Me, too,” he gritted out. “But I won’t be able to…”

  His fingers tangled in my hair and he gently tugged so that he could bury his head into my neck. I felt his tongue and mouth—hot, scorching fire, on my skin. My nails dug into his back, my spine arched. The rush came upon me suddenly and I convulsed underneath him, a sharp inhalation of breath.

  He moved faster, our flesh slapping. “Fuck,” I heard at my ear. “Baby, I need to…”

  I tightened my limbs around him, dug my nails deeper. “Please,” I said, wanting it, needing it.

  With a painful moan, he started, hard, desperate, pushing back on his knees and straightening his arms. Looking into my eyes, he finished inside me with long, drawn out thrusts.

  His food was forgotten as we wrapped around each other.

  “I love you,” he said again, a breathless confession.

  “I love you, too,” I said.

  Chapter 45

  We were insatiable, unwilling to stop touching or kissing as the night wore on. Eventually, we made it to my bedroom and nearly as soon as his head hit the pillow, Wally was out, an arm wrapped around my middle.

  With the light from my nightstand lamp, I watched him sleep. His mouth was slightly open, his lashes dark and fanned. For the first time in days, Wally looked at ease, peaceful. A tiny bit of pride swelled in my chest, knowing that I was the reason.

  I didn’t know what the future held for Wally and me. He had hurt me. For months, I battled with my love for him—burying it, digging it up, and burying it again. Through all of that, I was never able to fully let go. No matter how strong I told myself I was there was always some part of me that held on and never quite parted with him. And he’d come back to me, expressing sorrow, vulnerability.

  I’d despised the hold he had on me. But now…it made sense. All of this, all of the pain I’d felt, the anger and sadness I’d endured, it was for him. Wally was unlike any man I’d known. He was confident and deep, silly and wise. But underneath all of that was this broken, scared man, afraid that he’d let someone in too close and they’d see too much, know too much. The people in his past, the people who were supposed to love him, they hadn’t done their job properly. He was frightened of love, terrified that when he gave it, the feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated.

  He’d needed me to hold on, to prove that my love was real, that it wasn’t going away. I couldn’t say that I’d do it all over again, that I’d take that pain willingly, because it sucked. It hurt like hell. But I could say that this was worth it, that he was worth it. Without turning off the light, I curled into him and fell asleep too.

  It was some time in the early morning when I felt his fingers gently rubbing against my stomach. We couldn’t have been asleep for more than a few hours. My light was still on and I went up on an elbow to look at him.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said, still caressing me. “Just have a bad feeling.”

  “Theo?” I asked.

  He nodded. I settled back into him, rubbing my fingers through his hair. All I could do was make sure that he knew he wasn’t alone, that I’d be there for him.

  “He talked about you,” he said. “Just last week.”

  “Really?” I smiled. “He remembered me?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “He asked me where you were. Well, he said, ‘Where’s Kitty?’ But that was pretty good for him.” He was silent then, thinking, absentmindedly rubbing my back. “I told him that we weren’t together anymore. He got pissed. Really let me have it. He told me that I was being a stupid ass and that I should call you. It was the last time I saw him so coherent. A few days later, he, uh, he just sort of faded further away.”

  I gave him a tight squeeze.

  “I would have come to you,” he said. “I would have told you everything that I said tonight. I need you to know that. It’s important that you know I mean all of this—that I’m not just being emotional. You are so my girl, Punks, and I want this.”

  I nodded. “I know, Wally. I know.”

  Over the next few hours, neither of us really slept. It was like we were just waiting for the inevitable.

  At 5 a.m. the dull vibration of Wally’s phone made the tension in my house increase. We knew. We both knew. There was no other reason for them to be calling so early.

  He sat up in the bed and quietly answered. “Yeah,” he said his voice thick and gruff. I couldn’t quite hear the voice on the other end, but it was a female. “Slow down,” he said. He took an inhale, deep and long. “Yeah, I understand. Should I come up there? Do you need me to? Alright, then.”

  He hung up the phone, but was silent. “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  “My, uh, my grandfather…he died,” he said. As soon as the words left him, he choked on a sob.

  “Oh, Wally,” I said, and rushed to him. “Do we need to go? I can take you up there.”

  “No,” he said, wiping away his tears. “There’s nothing I can do about it. I just want to lay here with you and try to sleep. I think…I think I might be able to now.”

  I turned out all the lights and went to get him a glass of water. When I came back, he was still crouched over his legs. “Thanks,” he said as I handed it to him.

  I got into the bed and waited for him. After a few minutes, he pulled me close and I pretended not to hear him cry.

  As to be expected, the next days were awful, but Wally was strong. When we woke the next morning, having only slept a few hours, he had made peace with it. I took him home to be with his friends and they did a good job of distracting him, offering to play music or video games.

  Marlowe was there, but kept to herself, only giving me a pleased smile when she saw us holding hands. True to his word, Wally made sure I knew how he felt about me. If we were in the same room, he kept me close to him—wrapping an arm around my waist or touching my hair. He kissed me often and made sure to tell me how much he appreciated me.

  Anytime he went to be with his family, I stayed behind. Not because I didn’t want to be there, but everything they’d be discussing was private. I barely knew them and even though I’d met and cared about Theo, I was still a stranger. Reluctantly, Wally agreed with me.

  When I finally did see them, they mostly left me alone. They were too busy anyway. The visitation had drawn a quite a crowd, and I was lost in the sea of people. I recognized a lot of workers from the skydive hangar and watched Wally point me out to them. The older gentleman, Ben, nodded, remembering me.

  For hours, I walked around the funeral home, taking care of things when I could, helping Wally with anything he asked. As the night was ending, he came to me. He was well-dressed, but still wearing jeans and a nice sweater. My stomach tingled thinking about the night he’d worn a suit to meet my parents. He’d done that for me, I thought. So out of character, but he wanted to make me happy.

  “Hey,” I said when he approached.

  “Hey, baby,” he said. “I should be able to leave soon.”

  “Take your time,” I told him. “It’s fine.”

  He put his hands on my hips and pulled me in close. I sighed as his lips brushed my ear. “You’re beautiful,” he said, kissing me on the cheek.

  I cradled his jaw and brought my lips to his, giving him a good, solid kiss. He walked away with a smile. My eyes followed him across the room, but then I felt someone staring at me.

  Off
in a corner, leaned against a door frame was Trey. He shook his head back and forth as we made eye contact. Please don’t come talk to me, I thought. He did.

  Luckily, I was fairly isolated in my corner. This wasn’t a conversation I would have wanted anyone to hear. “So,” he said as he stood in front of me. “You two are a thing again.” His smile was cocky, mean. “Just like that,” he said, a snap of his fingers.

  I ignored him, but he moved in closer.

  “Tell me, Kristen, what’s that piece of shit got that I don’t, huh?”

  “Excuse you,” I said, frowning.

  “I tried so hard with you,” he said. “Tried being patient, giving you space. I bought you shit. Did you favors, but that’s what you want? I don’t get it.”

  There wasn’t anything for him to get. If he didn’t understand, there was nothing I could say that would make him. “Can we not do this right now?” I said. It was his grandfather’s visitation for goodness sake.

  “Yeah, sure,” he said, another cocky grin. “But just so you know,” he leaned in, whispering. “While you two weren’t together, he fucked half the town. There ain’t a girl you’ll meet that hasn’t spread her legs for him.”

  My face heated, but I couldn’t respond. I was too angry and shocked by his words. Why would he say that? Here, of all places?

  “But I guess he’s a little better than me,” he said. “At least he waited until after y’all broke up.”

  Did he expect that to sting? He’d cheated…? Like I cared. “Go away,” I said and looked away from him. All of Wally’s family was staring at us, looking at me with repulsion. They were assholes, too. If I knew Lisa, she’d already spun a tale about me and passed it around. My poor son and the girl who broke his heart. Now look at her, shacked up with my outcast nephew. My baby boy deserves so much better. All of this coming to light at his grandfather’s funeral no less.

  It took everything I had not to mouth kiss my ass to her and everyone else. Trey huffed and walked off to join them. Several people gave him heartfelt hugs and encouraging pats on the back, as if he was so distraught and just needed it. God, what was wrong with all of them?

 

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