Hope Falls: Passing Through (Kindle Worlds Novella)

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Hope Falls: Passing Through (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 8

by Frances Elliot


  “Who’s going to the grocery store?” asked Ryan, now lounging in the doorway.

  David and Alice exchanged glances, then swiveled their heads to look steadily at Ryan. He raised his hands in a “no way” gesture, but they both kept staring. “I was kidding. Really, I was just teasing you, Alice.”

  “No, no, I think it’s a great idea, don’t you, David?”

  “Excellent. Now if you can get along without me, which apparently you do very well, I will go change.”

  “Oh, no, David, let me have the bathroom first; I have to get going.” She headed for the door. “And you,” she said to Ryan, “you stay down here so you don’t distract me. Talk about trucks or something.”

  ***

  Ryan went over, sat at the table and said calmly “So, what kind of mileage you getting on the new pickup?” He drank from his coffee and after a moment added, “I honestly think I’m in love with her.”

  David peered at him intently, sizing him up, and Ryan thought of his father scrutinizing him the same way before saying “All right, son. You want to tell me what really happened?” Yet the fish eye didn’t feel out of line – Ryan would do the same thing if their roles were reversed.

  Eventually David moved his eyes to stare into his cup. He drummed his fingers on the table for a while and finally said, looking beyond Ryan’s left shoulder, “She’s nowhere near as … blithe as she seems, you know. She’s very clever at hiding how she really feels.”

  “I don’t think ‘very clever’ even comes close. I know already she’s twice as smart as I am.”

  “Oh. Yeah.” David looked confused, as though that went without saying. “I meant something else. I meant it’s not as easy to understand her as it seems.”

  Unsure what to say, Ryan kept silent because the only response he had – “I understand her perfectly” – would sound wrong, too smug. But that was the truth, and the wonderful thing, he thought, was that he was equally certain Alice understood him the same way. That, he realized, was the best part.

  The silence was getting uncomfortable and they both said “Well,” at the same time. Ryan signaled, “you go ahead.”

  “Well,” David said again, “I’d really like to know who the hell you are but I figure I can leave that to Alice.” He shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable. “I just want to ask you one thing. It’s a little creepy, but …”

  Thinking “shit, what’s coming?” Ryan mentally braced himself.

  “It’s actually just something I’d like you to think about.” Another pause as David got up and walked over to look out the window. Ryan continued to stare at his cup, waiting.

  “So, I just wonder if in the past, you ever had such great sex that you thought you were in love,” said David, speaking rapidly.

  Damn. What a good question. Ryan thought it deserved some thought. David got a glass, ran some water, looked out the window some more, didn’t speak. When he finally had the answer, Ryan twisted in his seat to face him, grinning broadly. “Yes. Mary Ellen Brody. I was sixteen; she was eighteen.”

  He thought back, still smiling. “She told me very nicely that she’d consider my proposal up in Ann Arbor and we’d talk when she came home for Thanksgiving break.”

  Now David was smiling too, and Ryan went on. “Never saw her again and I got over it, but it took a long time.” He felt ridiculously happy – David had no idea how that question had clarified things for him.

  It was just a little creepy, though, implying as it did … but he thought he ought to say something more. “So, uh, anyway, I hope you believe me when I say I’m old enough to know the difference. Okay?”

  Looking relieved, David said “Yeah, okay,” and moved down to rummage around that junk drawer at the end of the counter. “Two lawyers in the house, you know how many pencils we have?”

  Ryan took a wild guess. “None?”

  “Actually, probably about two hundred … well, shit, here’s the Allen wrench. And the spare keys, thought those were long gone.” David came back to the table and looked at him. “Are you an organized guy?”

  The answer was “to a fault” but all he said was “I suppose so.”

  Something in his tone must have betrayed him; David looked at him sharply and said, “Which is it – super neat or hopelessly messy?”

  Ryan wondered if David did any litigation. He sure wouldn’t want to be cross-examined on the stand by this guy. “Truth is, I’m a pretty organized guy.”

  David nodded his head, thinking, then said, “Good. That’ll be good for Alice.”

  At that moment, she called down the stairs. “David? Where is the hair dryer?”

  “See?” said David, getting up to walk to the foot of the staircase. “Beats me. It’s not under the sink?”

  David came back in, sat again and rolled his eyes. All at once, Ryan felt deeply comfortable, at home, one of the family. “Why did you want a pencil?” he asked.

  “I thought I should make you a shopping list, but you don’t need one. Just get a lot of stuff.”

  “Oh, no, I really don’t think …” Now Ryan really felt like a member of the family – why was it his turn to go to the supermarket? On the other hand, what else did he have to do all day?

  Laughing a little at Ryan’s dismayed expression, David said “Don’t you know how to shop? You stand somewhere looking helpless until a woman comes over and tells you the chicken’s on sale or picks out the produce for you. Sometimes they’re very cute, too.”

  “What are you telling him?” asked Alice from the doorway.

  Her hair was twisted and pinned up somehow; a few loose, damp tendrils curled here and there and Ryan had to take a deep breath. She’d been gone only a few minutes but it was as though he’d forgotten the physical impact she had on him.

  “I’m teaching him how to grocery shop. Got any better advice?”

  Alice looked thoughtful and said “And why doesn’t he know how to shop?” she said, her eyes on Ryan.

  Of course he knew how – make a simple list, department by department, check off each item, etc. – he was, he realized, simply reluctant to choose for her. What if he made mistakes, got things she didn’t like? Good lord, he felt sixteen again. But he couldn’t admit that and she was still watching him.

  “I’m sure I’ll do a bang-up job. I’m just a little of out practice.”

  “Huh?” said David.

  Ryan looked back at Alice with her very small, patient smile and saw she suspected the answer. She just wanted to hear it. He turned to David, cleared his throat. “Ah. Well, in San Francisco, someone, um, did it for me. He knew what I liked and he shopped and cooked and left things to re-heat, and I could concentrate on other …” He trailed off, knowing he sounded like a major-league jerk.

  Alice walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. “See, David? Not a drifter after all. Tell Cathy to put that in her pipe and smoke it,” she said to her brother. Then to Ryan she added, “Will you drive me back to town? My car’s behind the office.”

  “Sure,” he answered. “Give me a minute to—” He cut himself off and shot her a look of desperation.

  Comprehension flooded her face; she turned to David and said, “Get out of here.”

  “Fine,” he said, getting up. “But I wish you could be a little more direct. It’s hard to figure out what you want sometimes.”

  As David walked out, Alice sat down, her face puzzled. “You know, I was surprised by ‘San Francisco’ – it made me think about how little I know.”

  Ryan considered that and suddenly broke into a grin. “You have no idea how little. Tell me, what’s my last name?”

  She opened her mouth to speak and then gaped at him, astonished. “Oops. Well … care to introduce yourself?”

  Extending his hand, he said “Ryan Spenser, delighted.”

  “Really?” She didn’t even look all that surprised, somehow.

  “Really. You know what we need? We need that first date. How about I take you out tonight so we can ask
questions like ‘what’s your name’ – stuff like that.”

  There was a very brief pause and then she burst into laughter. Well, okay, he thought, maybe it was a silly idea, but not that funny. He looked at her.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “I think that will be wonderful. It’s just that I briefly considered telling you I already had a date, how about later this week?”

  Striving to achieve a stony face, Ryan said, “I fail to see the humor.”

  “No you don’t. You think I’m very funny. I just hope that lasts.”

  Why, he wondered, did he feel so certain it would? Why was he so sure everything would last, that this wasn’t just another passing infatuation? He was glad David had suggested the “just sex” possibility and forced him to think that through.

  Of course, he couldn’t pretend sex wasn’t playing a major role, not with his dick getting hard the way it was. She’d twisted and bent in her chair to reach under the table, her ass lifting a little as she strained to extend her arm. Don’t touch her. That was all he could think. All will be lost if you touch her.

  She popped back up with the jeans, her face triumphant, took one look at his expression and froze. He saw her eyes dart over his body, saw her part her own lips, heard her take a long, slow breath. Neither of them spoke.

  Tiny, almost imperceptible changes flickered across her face and through her eyes. He groaned inwardly, now fully erect. What was she thinking? What kind of salacious ideas were flashing across her mind? She got up slowly, took his hand and led him back into the laundry room, closing a door behind them.

  “There’s another condom over there with the loose change,” she said in a dreamy voice and leaned against the wall. He grabbed it and kissed her roughly as his fingers fumbled at the button on her slacks. Her hands stretched the elastic at his waist to pull the sweatpants carefully past his erection and this time he groaned aloud.

  She helped him with the condom, quickly undid her zipper and her pants fell to her ankles. Sliding his hands over her ass, he yanked her panties down her legs, then bent at the knees and entered her in one hurried motion.

  Her arms reached up to grasp his shoulders but her movements were restricted – he was thinking he would need to free her legs when she began to pant. The increased friction was working for her, he realized, and adjusted his angle slightly. Thrusting harder, he gripped her ass more tightly and said in a hoarse voice, “You like this, don’t you? Tell me … tell me you like this.”

  She gasped and a low pleading moan came from deep in her throat. Her fingers dug into the flesh of his shoulders and he wanted to consume her, push further inside her, hear her suck air and cry out in ecstasy. Close to losing control, he lifted her slightly, pushed her harder against the wall.

  With a single short yelp, she began to quiver in his arms and feeling the convulsive clasping around his cock, he let go too. Her head dropped back to rest against the wall, her eyes closed briefly, and he lifted a hand to touch her face.

  As his breathing and heartbeat slowed, he kissed her, gently this time. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said, his lips on hers. “I…”

  And again, something stopped him. Not uncertainty, he thought. Maybe some old habit of caution? Fear she wouldn’t reciprocate? He pulled his head back to look at her and saw the same twinkling amusement in her eyes he’d seen last night.

  It finally dawned on him that she understood his struggle with “I love you” very well; that she was going through the same thing herself – but with a great deal more grace. He released her and pulled the sweats up, then said in a rush, “When do you think it will stop feeling like ‘too soon?’”

  She zipped up, adjusted her blouse, extended her hand and looked at him expectantly until he clasped it. “Tonight. Tonight work for you?”

  “That sounds fine. Deal.”

  After they shook hands, he watched her start doing something with her hair, re-twisting and tucking. “You know how I’ve decided to describe this relationship?” she said around the bobby pin she held in her mouth. She glanced up at him, still smiling, and he waited. “Efficient. We are simply more efficient than most couples.”

  “Very nicely put,” he said and kissed her briefly. “Now. How about bringing me my jeans?”

  With her hand on the doorknob, she said, “Gee, I hope David’s not back in the kitchen.”

  Chapter Ten – Tuesday Afternoon

  Alice had the long drive to think things over and as the road took her further and further from Ryan’s comforting presence, nasty little doubts began to creep into her mind. Maybe she should just keep going, turn north and head for the border. Or settle down in Sacramento – rents weren’t too bad there – she could start her career over, take something as a junior associate at a big firm, work her way up. Or better yet, find work at some kind of legal clinic, as she’d always intended.

  Because what in the world had she gotten herself into? He probably didn’t shower enough (though he sure smelled great), or hated animals (with those sweet eyes?), or bullied waiters (not likely). Maybe he was selfish, inconsiderate, rude – well, no, no, and no, she thought.

  Or what if he did this all the time? That thought sent her drifting towards the center yellow lines and she wrenched the wheel back. For all she knew, he fell in and out of love on a weekly basis. Why hadn’t she asked the glaringly obvious question -- have you ever felt this way before?

  She’d been so overwhelmed by her own certainty this was different and special that she’d breezily assumed it was equally special to him. There was no reason to think about running away; he was probably halfway to Reno by now, falling deeply in love with a waitress at a truck stop. Probably a good cook with big tits, she thought sullenly.

  While she waited in the tasteful but sterile reception area at Morrissey Goldstein Rodriguez – covering a lot of bases there, she thought – she was forced to discard at least one of her escape plans. The younger attorneys marched grimly past, dragging their wheeled briefcases, checking their watches, shouting into cell phones and generally looking miserable. She knew she’d never survive in a place like this.

  A woman she recognized from school started past, then stopped short. Looking suddenly happy, she said “Alice? What are you doing here?”

  “Hey, Evelyn,” Alice said. They hugged, chatted until Evelyn glanced at her watch and said she had to run; they arranged to meet for lunch. That could be me, Alice thought as she sat back down. I could be rushing around the city in an eight hundred dollar suit, busy and dedicated. Maybe she would have survived; maybe she would have thrived. She considered the choices she’d made.

  Or not made. When had she stopped making choices, taking risks, resigned herself to drifting along? Maybe she’d fancied herself in love to relieve the frustrating tedium of her life, latched onto Ryan only because he floated by like a piece of flotsam from a sinking ship.

  At the thought of him, she felt a wrenching, sickening sense of loss, as if she’d awakened this morning to an empty bed and some sort of goodbye note. On the verge of tears, she tried to get a grip on reality, whatever that was now. Why was she thinking this way?

  Her meeting was short, but a welcome distraction from that horrid, negative inner voice. By the time she found the out-of-the way Mexican restaurant Evelyn had chosen, she felt slightly more optimistic. And hungry – she felt very hungry.

  They chatted about old friends, old memories, old professors, had a little sangria, talked about their jobs. The food arrived and Evelyn gaped as Alice tore into a giant combination plate. “I didn’t have breakfast,” she explained. I had some pretty raunchy sex instead, she thought and felt her face flush.

  Her friend noticed instantly. “Spill,” she said. “What are you thinking about? Why are you smiling that evil little smile?”

  Alice paused, her laden fork mid-air. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

  “Oh ho, like that, eh?” Evelyn responded. “Sure. Sure, I think it happens all
the time.”

  “Really?” Alice swallowed and said, “Happen to anyone you know? I mean, give me an example.”

  Evelyn waggled her hands in the air and appeared to be thinking hard. “Well no, maybe not, but … wait. Remember Stevenson? Red glasses, short hair, said she fell in love with that dweeb guy from Phoenix the first time she saw him?”

  Alice nodded slowly. “Yeah, I remember her … him, I don’t know.”

  “Yes you do, he was the one with Star Trek t-shirt collection. Anyway, I saw them in a casino in Vegas – they were married and already had two kids.” She took a sip of her drink. “Although, come to think of it, I’m not sure how happy she is. She seemed a little desperate, to tell the truth.”

  Laughing, Alice said she’d probably be desperate too if she’d married the Star Trek fan. She explained she couldn’t describe what was happening because she didn’t know herself, but it felt … important.

  After musing for a minute, Evelyn leaned forward and said, “He good-looking?”

  “Extremely.”

  “Good in bed?”

  “Extremely.”

  “Got anything else going on in your life? Something interesting, I mean.”

  “Not at all.”

  “Well,” said Evelyn, “I’d say case closed if you didn’t look so blissfully radiant.” She smiled wickedly. “Though that’s probably the good sex, right?”

  Alice blushed again. “Absolutely. But I’m pretty sure there’s something more.”

  “Listen, every new guy is a roll of the dice. Ask yourself if things are getting better every time you see him, or are they getting worse? That’s really all that matters – I don’t know why you’re so focused on timing. Fast, slow, who cares?”

  When they parted, promising to do better at staying in touch, Alice felt relieved. She resolved to stop waiting for someone to tell her she was crazy, acting like a fool, and putting herself at risk. For the first half of the ride home, her spirits continued to rise; she drove with a huge smile on her face and she had to work to keep her mind on the road.

 

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