Life Happens on the Stairs

by Amy J. Markstahler

  “I can see why.”

  The place was remarkable, shrouded in low amber lighting that made me want to curl up on a winter’s night in front of the grand stone fireplace at the far side of the dining room.

  “Grandpa logged the forests locally and chose every piece they used in the project. He said it took four years to build. All the mahogany was brought in from an antebellum mansion they were disassembling near Knoxville. The booths are covered in leather from a ranch near Jacksonville, and the chandeliers were shipped in from an artisan in Gatlinburg.” He smiled. “That’s what I loved about the old man. He had so much pride for Tennessee.”

  “What would you do with it if you ever got it back?”

  Tyler glanced around the dining room. “I always thought it would be a cool house.”

  “More like a mansion... ”

  The server approached and placed our appetizer at the center of the table. Tyler said it was bruschetta and tomato salad with crumbled blue cheese. He scooped a piece of toast on his fork and set it on my plate. When I took a bite, the savory tomato and basil, tart cheese, and crisp garlic bread deliciously melded together.

  Ten minutes later, the server brought a plate of something fried. Tyler called it calamari. I loved the name and the flavor of the breaded delicacy. After I’d tasted a few of them with approval, he explained it was squid. I had to compliment his proper timing (squid sounded awful), but I actually loved the taste.

  Then, our server brought a third dish of thin slices of rare beef layered around the plate, with a garnish of arugula salad. An odd, toadstool aroma lifted from the appetizer.

  Tyler curiously watched me. I eyed him, then picked up a piece with my fork, daring myself to try the paper-thin meat. I took a bite. The rich flavor melted over my tongue.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “Carpaccio. Thinly sliced, raw tenderloin coated in white truffle oil. You said you like rare steak,” he chuckled.

  “It’s fantastic. It smells weird, but I love it.”

  “It’s the truffle oil. It has an odd scent, one only a wild boar can appreciate.”

  I giggled at the comment, and then he proceeded to tell me how truffles were harvested.

  Shortly after we finished, the server returned with our entrées. Tyler had ordered a rare filet for both of us. The flavor of the beef trumped every other dish we’d been served.

  When we were done with our dinner, the server returned once more to remove our plates, leaving us alone in our private world.

  “You’re absolutely stunning tonight,” Tyler said, leaning back in his chair.

  “Thank you. Look at you,” I said, teasingly. “You should be on the cover of GQ.”

  “That’s funny. I’ll have to make that my pet project.” He propped his elbows on the table and leaned in closer. “What I’ve been wondering all night is... for such a simple girl... where in the world did you get the Louboutins?”

  “The what?” I shook my head. The name sounded familiar, but his pronunciation in French didn’t make any sense.

  “Louboutin,” he repeated. “I assume you didn’t pay hundreds of dollars for those.”

  “Paid hundreds for what?”

  “Your shoes. They average near seven hundred dollars.”

  “What?” I glanced at my feet. “How do you know so much about shoes?”

  “The red bottoms. That’s Christian Louboutin’s signature. Mom’s closet is filled with red-bottomed shoes.”

  “People pay that much for shoes? That’s insane. I got a bargain, then.”

  “You have good taste.”

  “Yeah, cashmere taste on a polyester budget.”

  As we waited for dessert, we joked about how much money was in his mom’s closet, determining I could buy the house I lived in and still have cash for years. In the midst of our giggles, the server placed a bowl on the table, and then he flicked a lighter, setting the top of the dish on fire. When the brief flame dissipated, the top was golden brown. I wanted to clap my hands like a little girl watching fireworks. Tyler said the dish was called crème brûlée. The combination of the crunchy sugar and creamy vanilla filling was the perfect finish to our meal.

  I sat back in the booth, my taste buds on flavor overload.

  “Thank you for dinner. Everything was fantastic.”

  “My pleasure. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He took a sip of his water, then set down his glass. “So. Are you going to tell me about your scar?”

  I gave him my best “really” look.

  Pleading with his eyes, he said, “You promised.”

  I liked his determination for some reason, but I had to take a minute to find the courage to say it. I hated recounting that night, and I didn’t want to ruin my perfect evening. I fidgeted with the cloth napkin in my lap. He smiled. I scanned the dining room. He waited. We were one of three tables remaining. The conversation and noise from earlier had faded, and the soft sound of a piano piece complemented the ambiance. The fluid melody stole my attention. I listened, ignoring his unnerving patience, but he couldn’t take the silence any longer.

  “It’s Rachmaninov,” he said like he read my mind. “Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “You’re avoiding questions again,” he teased.

  “Okay, well... I was fifteen. Dad had a seizure that day and it scared us pretty bad. Mom rode in the ambulance and Mark and I followed them in the truck.”

  I leaned in closer so I could speak in hushed tones.

  “Later that night, Mom had told us to go home because she needed to stay the night at the hospital. Instead of doing what she said, Mark had driven to Bobby’s, one of his drinkin’ buddies. He told me to keep my mouth shut and just go for the ride. I didn’t argue with him. I did whatever he wanted at the time. So, he picked Bobby up, and we went north of Saltillo toward Dog Creek. Then, he pulled into a small bar tucked in the woods. Mark had been so stupid to get mixed up with that crowd. He kept going out and getting drunk. Mom had been mad at him all the time. By the time it was all over, he’d lost his football scholarship at the University of Tennessee.”

  “I remember your brother.” Tyler’s face lit up like he’d finally connected some of the missing dots. “He went All State, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah, played tight end... and he was good, too. Anyway, he told me to stay in the truck and that they’d only be a few minutes. So... there I was, sitting in front of a biker bar in the middle of nowhere. People kept coming and going and all of them looked shady in their leather jackets and long hair. I started freaking out. They’d been inside for way longer than a few minutes. So... I ran.”

  “You were serious that day, then?” he asked. “You actually run away?”

  My face burned. “Yes. That wasn’t my proudest moment. I really screwed up that time.”

  “What do you mean ‘that time’?”

  I quickly looked away. How much did I need to confess? Letting him in on my senseless reactions in the past was a risk I wasn’t sure I should take, and running was only half of it. I had hiding places all over our property, and if I still needed to use one, I would.

  “It wasn’t the first time,” I continued. “I get... well, irrational is one way to put it. I really thought I was in danger, though. Mark had scared me. I wanted to go to the marina and call Mom, Ruby, somebody. But I was stupid and had run through the woods, instead of following the hills and curves. I thought it would be a shortcut and thought I’d find the road on the other side. Well, it might have worked in the daylight, but I couldn’t see a thing. I was pushing through the thicket, but then I lost my footing and had fallen down a ravine.” I looked up at the ceiling to stop the tears threatening me. “I’m sorry, this is hard to admit.”

  “Take your time,” he said. “I don’t want to upset you.”

  I took a deep breath to suck in my embarrassment. I wasn’t sure why it was important for him to know where my scar came from, but he had an empathetic air abo
ut him... as if he understood what it meant to go through something terrifying.

  “Talk about being an idiot,” I said. “I got first prize that night. I was out there for sixteen hours – my collarbone had been shattered, and my upper left arm broken. I’d hit my head several times, so I kept slipping in and out of consciousness. I don’t remember much, thank God. After Mark realized he couldn’t find me, he had called the police, who then turned around and arrested him for underage drinking. Bobby ran like the spineless creep he was, and of course, he didn’t get caught. I was in the hospital for a week. I had to undergo a couple of surgeries – one on my collarbone and the other under here.”

  I lifted my arm to show him the four-inch scar down my left triceps. He acknowledged my battle wound with a nod.

  “While all this was happening, Dad was in critical condition. Mark had been busted not only for underage drinking, but for the bag of cocaine in his pocket. I had no idea that’s what they were after. He had inevitably lost his scholarship and everything he’d worked for. My poor mom had to deal with both Mark’s mess and a full-out search and rescue for me by the police and people from church. By the time she had accounted for her whole family, two of us were in the hospital, and the other one needed to be bailed out of jail.”

  The end of the story floated around us, dense as smoke, clouding my mood. Tyler had propped his elbow on the table, his chin resting in his palm, with his fingers curled around his lips. Shame overwhelmed me. I started to regret my honesty, unsure of how to read him.

  “That’s where my scar came from,” I whispered.

  He stayed silent as he contemplated his response, and then he said, “I was in a car accident a few years ago. I understand how hard it can be to get over something traumatic.” He took a sharp breath like it was just as hard for him to talk about as it had been for me. “I was with my grandfather and he died at the scene. He probably didn’t know what hit him.”

  “You were with him? I’m so sorry.” I could feel his pain from across the table. His dark eyes said it all. That night haunted him every day. “It’s so random, isn’t it?”

  “What is?”

  “How we die. Dad won’t go without a fight, but your grandpa had been ripped away from life in seconds. It’s hard to wrap your brain around it.”

  “There is no rhyme or reason.”

  Tyler gently took my hand in his, staring down at our fingers intertwined together. The intensity of his gaze, his gentle touch, his hesitancy – everything he did held me in suspense, waiting for what he might say next. His eyes met mine.

  “Let’s change the subject. We’re having way too nice of an evening to recount our worst moments. Thank you for telling me where your scar came from. I’m sure you hate it. However, be assured that it’s quite sexy.”

  I smiled, glancing away. He squeezed my fingers between his. I looked back at him still fighting my embarrassment.

  “More than that,” he continued, “what happened that night doesn’t define you. It’s just one of those times when you were knocked back a few steps, and you had a lesson to learn.”

  His words took me by surprise. I hadn’t thought of it that way. Letting that night rule my feelings and self-esteem was exactly what I’d been doing.

  “Thank you for saying that,” I said. “I really do need to let it go.”

  “Just forgive yourself. We all screw up sometimes.”

  I nodded in agreement, even though forgiveness wasn’t one of my strengths.

  “Elsie, I have my own confession to make.” He paused, leaving me in suspense again. “I think about you constantly. Since the first day I saw you, I cannot get you off my mind. No one has ever fascinated me the way you do. As complicated as your family is, so is mine.” He hesitated. “When I want something, I have to be discreet in the way I pursue it, but when I know what I want, I go after it. I’m not exactly sure how to make everything work out right now. I have a lot of commitments and a few obstacles in the way, but what I do know is that each night, all I can think about is being with you the next morning. Now, granted, you’ve stroked my ego, listening to all my talk about Shiloh and the Civil War. But if reciting interesting facts keeps you coming back, I’ll talk until I pass out.” Then, he abruptly flipped his hands in the air and exaggerated his expression. “You have no idea how crazy this is making me. If I could just focus on something other than you.”

  His words shocked me. I sat there speechless while he waited for my response.

  “Tyler, I, um... Thank you.”

  He recoiled. “Thank you? What are you thanking me for?”

  “I don’t know.” I laughed. “I’m sorry. It’s hard for me to let my feelings out like that. I know it would sound stupid to say I agree, but I agree. Ever since my accident, I’ve become a hermit. Like I’m afraid of myself or something. I don’t want to take chances, and here you’re the biggest chance I’ve ever taken.” My heart was racing and my voice didn’t sound familiar. It was like someone else was talking for me. I took a deep breath, and continued, “I’ve never needed someone so much, but at the same time, I’m trying like hell not to need you. You make me want to get up and go jogging, of all things! You talk about stuff I’ve never considered before, and most of all, you make me laugh. But the truth is,” I pointed between us, “I know this is impossible. I’m setting myself up, sabotaging my heart, but I can’t say no. I should run from you like I run from everything else, but you’re so damn charming.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m banking on. Being so damn charming, you can’t say no.”

  I smiled, deeply amused that he would find me challenging. He had no idea of the lengths I would go to be with him. He didn’t need to bank on anything, he already had me.

  “Elsie, what you see is what you get. I’m not playing you. I will never bullshit you, and you have no idea how sincere I am. Please don’t think we’re impossible. Nothing’s impossible.”

  I still wasn’t convinced. He had too much going for him, and I hadn’t even graduated high school yet. I loved what he’d confessed that he wanted us to be together. But “nothing’s impossible?” What exactly was he expecting?

  “Aren’t you afraid of telling your parents about me?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Really? I’m not from your world.”

  “I’ll give you my world. I don’t care where you’re from.”

  That was a tall offer. He didn’t even flinch. I looked him over, trying to process his conviction.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said, and then he slid out of the booth, offering his hands. Standing firm, he pulled me toward him. “Please, don’t think this is impossible. Anything’s possible. We just have to figure out how to make it work.”

  He leaned in and brushed his lips over mine.

  “Just trust me, okay?” he whispered.

  “Okay.”

  With a satisfied smile, he grasped my hand and led me past the empty tables toward the door. We were almost through the lobby when a red-haired man with glasses and a round face stepped out of the bathroom.

  “Tyler,” he said. “How are you, son?”

  “Mighty fine, sir,” Tyler said, releasing me to shake hands. “How’s your family?”

  Tyler immediately found my hand again, lacing his fingers between mine.

  “Rebecca’s great. She starts Vanderbilt this fall. How was your year?”

  “Fine, thank you.”

  The man’s eyes darted towards me. His arrogant air, along with the snide smirk on his face, didn’t set well with me at all.

  The man nodded. “Who’s your friend?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” Tyler stepped aside. “This is Elsie. Elsie, Jonathan Rockwell.”

  I accepted his proffered hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” he said, looking me over before he eyed Tyler. “Is your grandmother out of town?”

  “No, she just returned from Houston. I’ll tell her you asked about her. Nice to see you, Jon. Please
tell everyone hello.”

  “I will.”

  Jon stepped away, but then he reached out and put his hand on Tyler’s shoulder. I felt Tyler’s tension all the way to his fingers.

  “You know, Tyler. It would be good for Rebecca to have someone she knows when she gets to Nashville. Maybe you could show her around campus when you get there?”

  Tyler pushed the door open. I stepped outside, relieved to get away from the man.

  “Yeah, sure. Have a good evening, sir,” Tyler said, letting the door close in the pretentious man’s face. The valet immediately took Tyler’s ticket, hustling off to get the car.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “The guy’s a jackass. He’s calling Dad right now to tell him he ran into me.”

  “Are you surprised? We’re at your family’s former country club.”

  “I don’t mind that we ran into someone, but Jon... He’s always trying to get me to take his daughter out. It’s so annoying.”

  “He’s really arrogant.”

  “Yeah, that’s a nice way of putting it.”

  After the valet pulled up, I climbed inside the car. As Tyler drove out of the parking lot, lightning flashed across the southern sky as muted sounds of thunder rumbled outside. The track on the stereo changed and a soft melody filled the car, sending goosebumps over my arms.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “Delibes, The Flower Duet.”

  The harmony of the instruments rose and fell with the rhythm of the road. The symphony, fading softer then gradually building, rising and descending, was a perfect accompaniment to our drive through the hills and curves.

  “How do you know so much about classical music? Do you play?”

  “No, I never took to it. Mom’s a benefactor to the Cultural Center in Memphis, so they get season tickets every year. The symphony was about all I could stand growing up. Most of the other stuff – musicals, ballet, especially any kind of dance, are not my thing. Mom wanted to make sure I had plenty of culture or whatever. But the symphony, that’s different. When something’s that beautiful, there’s no denying it.”