The Truth About Falling

by H. M. Sholander

  But I see it, and that’s what breaks me more than anything, so as much as I want her to live, I want her suffering to end. I’ve had a lot of time to think since I haven’t been working as much, and I’ve decided that I’ll be okay when she’s gone. After the gut wrenching pain has passed.

  For now, I’ll sit by her bed and continue drawing–continue drawing her. It’s what I’ve been doing because I want to make sure I remember every detail, every wrinkle on her face and every hair on her head. I never want to forget, so I draw her over and over.

  “Jade,” my mom croaks, watching me.

  “Sorry, I didn’t know you were awake.” I put my pencil and sketchpad to the side, giving her my full attention.

  “I want you to leave.”

  “Leave?” I ask, furrowing my eyebrows and shaking my head.

  “Go do something. You spend all your free time here.” She mashes her lips together for a second before she continues. “That’s not much better than when you were working constantly. I want you to leave. Go do something,” she pleads, dropping her hand to mine.

  I frown as her grip tightens. “I want to be here,” I say, my voice almost begging because I don’t want to go.

  I need to be here in case she dies before I can see her again.

  “It would make me happy if you left. Go do something and come back tomorrow and tell me all about it.”

  I grind my teeth. “No.”

  She looks at me with determination in her eyes. “Leave, Jade.” She drops my hand and reaches for my sketchpad and pencil. “Take your stuff and go.”

  My lips trembles, and I fight the urge cry.

  As much as I don’t want to leave, I also don’t want to fight. I don’t want her to waste her energy on this.

  “Okay,” I concede. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  She holds out my belongings to me, and I take them from her. I hold my sketchpad against my chest like a shield as I grip my pencil, holding it like it’s the knife she thrust into my stomach.

  “See you then.” She smiles, watching me walk out the door.

  It hurts, her pushing me away when I want nothing more than to hold her closer.

  I hate it. I hate leaving her, but it’s what she wants, so I leave, without looking back.

  I prop my red bike against the side of the trailer when I get home from the hospital and trudge up the steps to my trailer. Leaning down, I pick up the pile of mail, unlock the door, and step inside.

  The door slams shut behind me as I make my way over to the couch and plop down on the hard cushion.

  I tear open each envelope and take out the bills, placing them on the couch next to me, but the last envelope I open isn’t a bill. It’s a notice to appear in court.

  I read over the letter, noting I have to appear in court in two weeks for my disorderly conduct charge. Great.

  I slip my phone out of my pocket and Google attorneys near me. I click on the seventh one down and copy the number. Opening my contacts, I paste the number and swipe the green call button.

  It rings once before a chipper female answers. “Law Office of Wade and Lewis, this is Karen. How may I help you?”

  I clear my throat. “My name is Jade Hart, and I received a notice to appear in court for disorderly conduct. I wanted to see about hiring a lawyer.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I can help you set up an appointment.” I hear the click of a mouse as I squirm on the couch. “We have an opening tomorrow at ten in the morning. Does that work for you?”

  “Yes,” I say, surprised she is able to fit me in so soon.

  “Wonderful. Make sure to bring the letter with you when you come, and I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, clicking sounding in the background again.

  “Thank you,” I say before hanging up.

  I sink further into the couch, not sure if I’m relieved that one thing is taken care of or mad at myself for getting into this situation in the first place.

  Somehow, I ended up standing on Hudson’s porch. It’s one in the afternoon, and I have no idea if he’s home, but I didn’t know where else to go. I was tired of staring at the ceiling after my phone call, and I didn’t want to think about how Mom kicked me out of her room anymore.

  I rap my knuckles against his door three times and wait, shifting on my feet.

  The door swings open, and Hudson’s face lights up when his eyes meet mine.

  “Hey,” he says, leaning against the doorjamb dressed in jeans and a snug green t-shirt.

  “Do you ever work?” I tease, running a hand through the ends of my long hair.

  He laughs, and I love hearing it. It might be one of my favorite sounds–only second to his voice. “I just got home ten minutes ago. I had an early shift.” He gestures behind him to the pile of blankets on his couch. “My mom stayed the night to make sure Chris got to school.” He crosses his arms and grins. “I could ask you the same question.”

  “Funny,” I say. “Are you free?”

  “It just so happens I am.”

  “Wanna go somewhere?” Anywhere but here.

  “Are you asking me on a date?” he asks, amusement lacing his voice.

  “I sure am,” I quip.

  “It’s about time. Let me put my shoes on.” He steps back inside and lets go of the door.

  I take a seat on the steps, waiting for him to join me. I have no idea what we’re going to do, but I might need to figure that out before he comes back out here. But I don’t get the chance before his door is slamming behind me.

  “What are we doing?” He sits down next to me, resting his elbows on his knees and looking at me with an infectious smile.

  “I didn’t really have a plan,” I confess. “But what’s got you so cheery?”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “Nothing in particular. Just woke up in a good mood.”

  “How ‘bout the park in the neighborhood?” I ask him, knowing he’ll have to get Chris from the bus soon.

  “Great idea.” He stands and turns back to his door, slipping in and out before I have a chance to question him. With his skateboard and a helmet in hand, he jumps off the stairs and extends his free hand out for me to take. “This is going to be fun,” he says with a glint in his eyes.

  I eye him with skepticism. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that.” I stare at him, amused as he tugs me off the wooden steps.

  “It’ll be fun,” he promises.

  I stare at his skateboard thinking, there’s no way I’m racing him again.

  “I don’t know about that,” I say, rocking back and forth on my feet.

  He holds out the helmet to me, waiting for me to take it. “What do you have to lose?”

  I look up at him, and his eyes scan my face, searching for whatever is holding me back. I don’t think he’ll find it, though, because I don’t have the answer to that myself.

  I watch as his hair blows in the wind, his chocolate eyes mesmerizing. My hand twitches at my side, wanting to feel each strand on his head for a second time.

  What do I have to lose?

  “Nothing.” I take the helmet from him and place it on my head.

  His lips curl up as he jerks his head in the direction of the park.

  As we walk down the street, he twines our hands, and they fit together like they’re two halves of a whole. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t mean much because it does. Somehow, he has wormed his way into my life when I wasn’t expecting him to–when I didn’t want him to. I didn’t invite him; he just tagged along for the ride, seeming to think he belonged in the space next to me.

  A simple touch from him sets every one of my nerves on end. He reminds me of what it’s like to have more. He gives me something I never thought I’d have again–hope. Hope that has fluttered in my chest and awakened from hibernation, and now it’s gnawing at me, begging to be set free, to believe in myself.

  He doesn’t need to try to put a smile on my face or make me happy. He just does. And it’s scary as shit and exciting all at the same time because
every second I spend with him, I fall a little more. It’s not love, but I like him a hell of a lot more than I ever thought I would.

  I peek at him from the corner of my eye.

  It’s normal to be scared, right? Because I’m terrified that falling for him will be my ruin just like it was for my parents.

  Kristy and I are more alike than I thought. Both of us terrified of turning out like the people who raised us.

  Hudson drops his skateboard on the ground, drawing my attention. “I’m going to teach you how to skateboard.”

  “What if I already know how?” I throw back at him, placing my hands on my hips. He looks at me knowingly, and I concede. “Fine, I don’t.”

  “That’s what I thought. First lesson: you are going to fall…a lot.”

  “Way to instill confidence in me.” I drop my hands from my waist. “You’re not a very good teacher.”

  He waves me off. “I’m the best. I just wanted to warn you, but once you find your balance, you’ll be fine.” He steps closer to me and buckles the helmet under my chin. “Safety first,” he whispers before placing a chaste kiss on my lips, leaving them tingling from his touch. “Give me your hands, and place your left foot in the middle of the board.”

  I put my foot on the board, and it wobbles a bit, throwing me off balance. I grab his hands tighter, ensuring he’ll go down with me if I fall.

  “I’ve got you,” he assures me. “Now use your right foot to push, but not too much because I don’t want you to take me out.”

  “Funny,” I say sarcastically.

  I push off, but instantly, I lose my balance, falling toward Hudson and gripping his shirt like my life depends on it.

  He holds me, making sure I don’t hit the ground. “Try again.”

  And I do try again, about twenty times, and each time I fall, he catches me.

  When we were racing, he made skateboarding seem effortless, like it was second nature to him. It’s definitely not as easy as it looks.

  “You’re terrible,” he laughs.

  I purse my lips at him. “Gee, thanks.” I wobble on the skateboard, struggling to find my balance.

  “Let’s take a break,” he says, guiding me back to the ground and pushing the board away.

  He leads me over to the lone picnic table, sits on top, and lays down, letting his feet rest on the bench where his butt should be. He pats the empty space next to him, and I climb up on the table to join him.

  I play with the hem of my shirt with one hand as the other rests under my head. “Tell me about the girl you loved.”

  He turns his head toward me, his gaze staring past me. “Chris’s Mom?”

  “Yeah,” I whisper.

  He exhales, the sound heavy as his chest deflates. “We were together for a year before she got pregnant.” He closes his eyes like he’s imagining she’s still here. “Her hair was fire red, and her eyes were brown with flecks of gold.”

  I envision a girl with wind blowing through her hair as she stands in a field of flowers. I bet she was beautiful.

  “She had a smile that could light up any room, and she could make anyone feel like they were worth more than a thousand diamonds.” His eyes open, full of unshed tears.

  I press my lips together and fist the hem of my shirt in my hand. I sense he needs this moment–this memory–so I listen, keeping my mouth shut and hands to myself.

  “When I found out she was pregnant, I told her I’d never leave her side, and I would be with her through everything.” His mouth curls up. “I made countless trips to the grocery store to buy her whatever she was craving at the time, and I was at every doctor’s appointment with her.” His face falls as he turns away from me. “But in the end, I couldn’t save her.”

  And now he’s scared he’s going to lose everyone around him. I understand why he would put a wall around himself.

  Losing the people you love hurts, but not everyone leaves–some people pick you up when you fall.

  I unfist my shirt and find his hand, squeezing it, letting him know I’m here.

  He looks back at me and smiles before he turns his attention to the sky.

  I can’t fathom what it was like for Hudson when Christina passed away. A child and grief to manage at the same time. It couldn’t have been easy, and I admire him that much more for making it as far as he has.

  I turn my head, staring up above me like Hudson.

  “Look, there’s a dragon.” He points toward the sky at a drifting cloud.

  I study the cloud, but I don’t see a dragon. “It looks like a cat.”

  “No, it’s breathing fire. Cat’s don’t do that,” he argues.

  I laugh because wouldn’t that be funny to see a cat breathing fire? All I see is a cat with pointy ears and a long tail. Several other clouds float by looking like nothing more than a big cotton ball, until there’s none left. No clouds, only the clear blue sky with the sun beating down on us.

  “What do you think is up there?” I don’t realize I’ve said it out loud until he squeezes my hand, shifting my attention to him before I avert my gaze.

  “I always think of Hercules. The cartoon where all the gods are in the sky, watching over us, keeping us safe. I imagine that’s what heaven is. A place where you go when you die to watch over everyone still living.”

  I’ve never thought of the afterlife. I wasn’t raised going to church or to believe in a certain God. In a way, I’m thankful because I was able to form my own beliefs–to make my own decisions where higher power is concerned. But I never thought twice about what else was out there, but now that my mom is dying, I’d like to believe she’s going to a better place. I want to believe that she’ll be happy.

  “I like that,” I whisper, holding his hand tighter. “I hope you’re right. I hope when my mom is gone she’ll be watching over me, making sure I don’t screw up more than I already have.”

  Maybe Mom will be keeping an eye on me while she’s standing next to Christina–two women who left their children behind too soon.

  Hudson rolls over to his side, scooting closer to me. “You won’t screw up.” His hand travels the length of my face, splaying across the back of my neck with his thumb on my cheek.

  I will, but I let him think that I agree with him as he stares down at me, watching me like I’m the answer to everything. I’m not the answer. I want to be the answer to whatever he needs, but I’m not–not when I don’t have the answers to my own life.

  He leans in closer, brushing his lips against mine, but not kissing me. “She would want you to be happy, and I don’t think you are.”

  “I could be,” I say, my lips grazing his, “with you.”

  The words fade off into the distance as he scans my face, deliberating if I really meant what I just said. I do mean it, and it’s scary because I’m clinging to him more than I ever have anyone before. It’s not because any day my mom could die, leaving me alone. I’ve practically been alone since this all started. That’s not what this is. I can handle myself. I can make it on my own, but Hudson makes me want to get through this with him. He makes me want to lean on him–to find support and comfort in him.

  His thumb trails across my cheek bone and my eyes flutter, threatening to close, but I keep them open, gazing up at the guy who is stealing pieces of my soul.

  It’s dangerous and terrifying because when you start to depend on someone, either they let you down, or you destroy them, but right now, I don’t care about that. I don’t care about the future. All that matters is now.

  His mouth seals to mine, eliminating every barrier between us, and just like that, the last screw falls out of the steel walls around my heart, landing on the floor along with the walls that kept me guarded for so long.

  Unprotected. Vulnerable.

  Everything I have is laid on the table for him to take–for him to break.

  I cross my arms, standing next to the steps that lead to my front door. “Thanks for today.”

  As I place my foot on the bottom step, H
udson stops me, running his hand down my arm.

  “Come meet Chris,” he suggests, standing next to me on my porch.

  “What?” I ask with a quiver in my voice. I’m not sure that’s the best idea. If I want to do this thing with Hudson it has to happen at some point because Chris is his kid. I’m not a complete idiot, but I’m…well, I don’t know what I am besides nervous as shit.

  “I have to get him off the bus. You don’t have anything to do.” He raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to argue, but I don’t. “You did come to his birthday party and not say a word to him. I think you owe him an apology.” He smirks, and I want to stick my tongue out at him, but I resist the urge.

  “He doesn’t know who I am,” I argue.

  “He does.”

  “But I’ve never met him.”

  Hudson steps closer to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me flush against him. “I’ve told him about you.” He places a kiss on one cheek then the other.

  “Why?” His body goes rigid from my question, and I instantly feel bad for asking.

  “Should I not have?”

  “That’s not how I meant it,” I backtrack, trying to make myself not sound like a total bitch. “I mean what would you have told him?”

  He relaxes slightly, looking at me in that way that means he’s not seeing anything else besides me. “I told him that I met a girl who is a game-changer. A girl who makes me feel whole.” He kisses my forehead before letting me go and taking a step back. “I tell him that you’re going to be around for a while if I have anything to say about it, and that you aren’t very polite.”

  “Hey,” I scoff, swatting at his arm.

  He laughs as he takes a step back, and I take one toward him. “But if it’s true…” he trails off with a smirk on his face. I move closer to him, but he moves away again, and I scowl at him. “Catch me if you can.” He wiggles his eyebrows, walking backwards.

  I place my hands on my hips. “I’m not four, Hudson.”