If I Fall

by Britt Morgan

  “Yeah,” she said. “I will.”

  * * *

  I was glad Ava agreed to come in, because had she not been there, I wasn’t sure I would have had the courage to go in myself. It was intimidating enough for me to be around normal people, let alone an entire room full of strangers with addictions like Ava’s and mine. But as much as it was unsettling, it was also—right. No one looked at us funny when we came in. No one stopped to stare at the track marks on our arms or the fact that Ava was about fifteen pounds underweight. No one got up close to our faces to see if they could smell booze. No one scowled at us, rolled their eyes, or whispered to one another. No one cared—and yet, at the same time, I knew these people cared more than anyone else possibly could.

  “Donuts,” Jay said, pointing towards a table that held an assortment of little snacks and drinks.

  “I’m not hungry,” said Ava. I knew she was nervous. Hell, I was nervous. Jay and Ty seemed to be the only ones who were completely satisfied with the whole situation.

  “Donuts?” Ty repeated, his nose shooting in the air. “Oh my God. They have donuts?”

  “Come with me,” Jay said to Ava. “We’ll grab some seats.” Ava’s eyes flickered toward me, and I smiled and nodded, hoping I could at least try to act encouraging.

  “I’m going to get something to drink,” I said. “We’ll sit with you guys in a minute. Save me a seat.”

  Relief flooded through me when Ava took hold of the arm Jay offered her. I was glad she was putting her trust into him—Ava didn’t trust just anybody. I also knew that there was something about Jay that made the world okay, even if it was just for a moment. He had an air of calm about him, a relaxed personality that could settle even the most frazzled of people.

  “I can’t believe this is my first time here,” I said, still gripping Ty’s hand. “I needed this a long time ago.” I poured us both a cup of coffee, letting the heat from the liquid warm my fingers.

  “You’re a little late to the party,” Ty said with a wink. “But don’t worry, they seem to like stragglers here.” He smiled again, his vivid blue eyes flashing. His coal black hair fell into his eyes, and I had the fleeting urge to reach over and brush it back. Instead, I looked away, blushing. I couldn’t remember the last time someone made me blush, but Ty did it every day without even trying.

  “That’s good,” I said. “Straggling is what I do best.”

  “Good thing I like you stragglers,” Ty teased. He kissed me, his lips leaving my own skin tingling with anticipation. I closed my eyes and begged for another, feeling his fingers tease me as he trailed his hands up and down my arms. He kissed my mouth, and then my neck. I didn’t care if anyone was watching—I was in heaven.

  “Hey, guys,” Jay called from where he and Ava were sitting in the middle row. “You are in a place of worship, for Christ’s sake.”

  “Ah,” Ty pulled away then, grinning, making me groan.

  “Why?” I cried. “Why?” Every second of passion we’d just shared was shattered. “Why would you do that to me?”

  “Talk to that one,” Ty said. He pointed towards the empty chairs next to Ava and Jay, who were in a heated debate that I had no desire to get involved in.

  “Did you know that I used to be into drugs?” Ty asked as we claimed our seats.

  “You were?” I almost choked on my coffee, spilling a dribble of it down my front. I tried to envision do-good Ty, the Paramedic-slash-Med Student shooting up meth and boozing until the early morning light.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I was really into pot for a while.”

  “Marijuana? Oh God, kid, talk about trouble.” I flashed him a smile to show that I was kidding, but Ty was already grinning.

  “I know, I know—it would have killed me eventually, I’m sure.”

  “Without a doubt,” I said. “Death by stoning.” All four of us laughed. It was nice to hear laughter. For a long time, my life had been void of joy, and of happiness. Being here tonight, laughing with a man I was crazy for and two of my best friends, was only the start of a much better future.

  “Honestly,” Ty said after our giggles had subsided. “What’s worse than that?”

  “Alcohol,” I told him, and the smile melted from my face. There was no hiding it now. Everyone knew I wasn’t there for the mediocre coffee and stale donuts. “And on occasion some other things. Hardcore drugs. That’s worse than pot.” I watched Ty’s expression, waiting for him to come to the realization that I was nothing but a hot mess, ex-druggie that would just drag him down. Instead of saying either of those things, though, he smiled slightly, then reached over and squeezed my hand.

  “You won,” he said. I looked down at his hand and frowned.

  “Won what?”

  “The battle.” He leaned into me, his breath on my cheek. “You won the war on your addiction.”

  “What makes you say that?” I asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” he said. “Because you’re here.”

  Chapter 35

  “That Ty dude is really smitten with you,” Ava said as we walked. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jay snicker. “I’ve never seen you with a man who treats you like a queen.” She rolled her eyes and added under her breath. “Besides Carter, anyway.”

  “Thanks, Ava.”

  “I think you did good, in finding him.”

  “He’s a good guy, isn’t he?” I checked my phone automatically, bummed that Ty had to report to work after the meeting.

  “You caught a good one,” Ava said. “Hold on tight to him, Khloe.” I watched her hug the jacket closer to her chest, shivering. The meeting had ended an hour ago, but we all decided to take a walk and chat in the park before departing. I was curious to hear Ava’s thoughts on the “intervention”, but so far, she hadn’t said much.

  “How did you guys like tonight?” Jay asked finally. “Did it help you?”

  Both Ava and I fell silent, pondering. I thought of all the faces I’d met tonight—so many people like Ava and me; addicts and alcoholics and even abuse victims—as if the entire city’s group of misfits had come together in one tiny room to talk about it over coffee and donuts.

  “Actually,” Ava said, and then she hesitated. Jay and I looked at her, curious. Whatever Ava was about to say could make or break the whole point of getting her there. “Actually,” she said again. “It was kind of nice to hear that other people go through what we do. Sometimes I feel like no one understands.”

  “They understand,” Jay said. “Those people in that room tonight understand better than anyone.”

  “They seem like good people,” I agreed. I linked one arm through Jay’s and held out the other to Ava. “I don’t know what I would do without either of you. Thanks for having my back.”

  * * *

  A few days later, I finally felt comfortable enough to go home and live without Ty or Jay constantly by my side. The first thing he and Ava helped me do was rid my entire apartment of half-empty liquor bottles. It was day one for Ava, and as we cleaned, I hoped and prayed that she would be able to stay strong through this and remain clean and sober. I wouldn’t be able to take another overdose; I couldn’t survive losing another friend. I knew I wasn’t strong enough to hold myself up alongside Ava, too.

  “Are you okay to be here by yourself tonight?” Jay asked. He was holding a garbage bag full of trash, and I could hear the liquor bottles clinking together.

  “She won’t be alone,” Ty said. “She’ll be with me.” He was clearing the beer cans out of the fridge. I looked over at him, feeling my heart flutter with an emotion that was so new to me—so charming and beautifully comfortable.

  “Even if Ty wasn’t here, I would be okay,” I assured Jay. “The cravings aren’t as bad. We’ll make some popcorn and watch a movie.”

  “I have faith in you,” Ava said. She came around the corner, dressed in elbow-length cleaning gloves that made her look like an adorable rubber duck. “We’re in this together.”

  “You guys know I
’m only a phone call away if you need me,” Jay said. He shook Ty’s hand and hugged Ava and me before getting back in his car and vanishing down the street. I watched him go, feeling as though Jay had been one of the missing pieces of the puzzle in my life.

  “You’ve got this, girl,” Ava said. She peeled the gloves from her hands and flung an arm around me, squeezing. “I may not be Carter, and I may not even be Jay or Ty, but I’m still your friend and I refuse to let you go down.” I smiled and rested my head on Ava’s shoulder, feeling a relief I hadn’t felt in years wash over me. For a moment—just a moment—everything was okay in the world.

  “Ditto,” I said.

  Chapter 36

  Ty and I stayed that night cuddled on the sofa under a hand-woven quilt. He rented a whole bunch of scary movies—my favorite—and we watched the movies, ate pizza, and talked for hours. My time spent with Ty was so different from any other romantic relationship I’d experienced. Ty was the kind of man a woman could only read about in books or watch on the big-screen. As the moments with him ticked by, I waited for the instant I would find his flaw. I kept my eyes open for some unfortunate quirk that would make him a bad person. Maybe he was controlling. Maybe he was obsessively jealous. Maybe he was racist. Even then, even after my mind swam with negative thoughts and deluded my trust, not once did I find one of these flaws I was so scared to see. In fact, as the days went on, the good part of him only shined brighter. Had Carter been around, I know he would have chided me for being so insecure and trying to sabotage a good thing. I couldn’t let my hesitance win. I couldn’t lose Ty—I wouldn’t.

  In all my years of being drunk and/or high before sex, the buzz of intimacy and pure desire I felt with Ty was overwhelmingly perfect. The softness of his skin against mine was electric, and when our lips touched, my mouth tingled. There was never a feeling of being pressured around him—in fact, my desire grew for him every moment of every day. I’d even gone in with Ava to the clinic to make sure we were both clean—-not just for any men, but for ourselves. We’d lived life dangerously, uncaring and reckless, I’m shocked we hadn’t picked anything up from unsafe sex or needle-sharing with strangers.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Ty asked. I looked over at him, mesmerized by the kindness in his face and the twinkle in his eyes.

  “Just thinking about how lucky I am to have met you.”

  “You know what’s funny? I was thinking the same thing.” Ty leaned over and cupped my chin in his before kissing me on the lips. I closed my eyes and sighed with contentment as his free hand traveled down my blouse, over my chest, and towards my lower abdomen.

  “It’s not fair that you do this to me,” I murmured. “I couldn’t say no even if I wanted to.”

  “Do you want to?” he asked. “Say no, I mean?” His breath tickled my ear. I reached my own hand down and rested it on the bulge in his jeans. Ty slipped his tongue between my lips, and the tingling in my lower half-started up again as I drew him into me, hungry for more. My hips moved restlessly towards him as he rubbed my nipple over the bra.

  “Never,” I said. And for the first time in forever, I meant it.

  * * *

  “I’m glad you came back to see me,” Traci Dunham said. She was sitting behind her office desk in the black chair across from me, pen poised on the pad, ready to jot down her notes as she stared at me over those intimidating spectacles.

  “Carter would have wanted it,” I said.

  “I hope you want it, too,” the counselor said, and I nodded. I did. I really did. “Tell me about sobriety. How is it coming?”

  “Almost three months,” I said. “That’s the longest I’ve been sober for as long as I can remember.”

  “I am so very glad to hear that,” Mrs. Dunham said. “You must be proud of yourself.”

  “I am,” I admitted, and I realized right away that I truly meant that.

  “What else is going on in your life?” asked Mrs. Dunham. I placed my hands in my lap and looked around, saw the colorful fish darting around in their tank, noticed the polished work desk and the way the room smelled of lavender. I thought of Carter, who at one time had sat exactly where I was now.

  “My father is sober now,” I told her. “For a while, anyway. He invited me to breakfast the other day.”

  “How did that go?”

  “It was fine,” I said. “Nice to see him sober, but I don’t think it’ll last.”

  “You don’t have trust in him?” Mrs. Dunham asked. I shrugged one shoulder and looked down at my hands, picking at the chipped polish.

  “He had a scare in that accident,” I told her. “One good scare is enough to frighten even the most stubborn people into sobriety. That doesn’t mean it’s going to stick.”

  “Do you think you’re going to stick with it?” Mrs. Dunham asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “I want to clean my life up.”

  “What makes you so sure he can’t?”

  “I—” I hesitated, unsure of how to answer. “I know him,” I said finally. “I know who he is and what he’s capable of.”

  “Carter knew you,” Mrs. Dunham pointed out. “But he still believed you could change.” She hesitated, waiting for me to react. I didn’t. “Was your father always an alcoholic?” she asked. I shook my head, thinking of how life had been before mom’s death.

  “He used to be a good father,” I said. “When my mother died it drove him to drink. Over the years we just kind of drifted apart.”

  “Maybe it’s time to grow close again,” Mrs. Dunham said. “Is that something you would consider letting happen?” I was quiet for a minute, trying to figure out if my life would be better or worse without Frank in it.

  “I guess I could let him try,” I said. “I just don’t know how serious he is about it.”

  “That’s all you must do is let him try,” Mrs. Dunham said. She sat back in her chair and smiled again at me. She smiled a lot, and yet it was comforting each time she did. “Nobody ever got anywhere by sitting back and letting someone else try for them. It’s up to him to change, and it’s up to you to let him.”

  * * *

  I took the bus halfway home that evening and then walked the rest of the way, head tucked down, hood up, and hands shoved into the pocket of my sweatshirt as the rain started to fall softly. Missus Betty was out of service, chilling in Jay’s shop waiting to be seen. I found myself worrying if we were closer to the end of her days than not.

  Seeing Mrs. Dunham really did make me feel better. I’d gone from having no support whatsoever to suddenly having a bunch of people in my corner, and it was a good feeling. I knew that if I needed any one of them, they were just a phone call away.

  Ty was still at work when I finally made it home, and I knew Ava was training a new kid at the club tonight. I was about to unlock my front door when my phone rang in my pocket. I picked it up, answering it before I bothered to check the caller ID.

  “Khloe? It’s da—it’s Frank. How are you?”

  “Oh, hi,” I said, unlocking my front door. “I’m good. Just got back from therapy.” I closed the door behind me just as the rain started to come down heavy, splattering against the windows. I plopped down on the couch and closed my eyes, trying to determine if Frank was calling me drunk or not.

  “Oh, okay,” he said. “That’s good. That’s great.” I was surprised to hear that he sounded sober. I could tell because when he was sober, he never knew what to say, like a fumbling, awkward high school kid put in the spotlight.

  “Was there something you wanted?” I asked finally. I hadn’t meant to sound rude, but a nap was sounding very good, and that wouldn’t happen until I was off the phone. There was a moment of silence, and for a second, I thought Frank had hung up.

  “Would you like to come over here for dinner?” he asked. “I’m making food. It would be nice to have company.”

  “Oh.” I glanced at the clock. It was still early in the evening. Ty wouldn’t be off for a few more hours and Ava would be at the clu
b most of the night. Jay, I knew, was on a date with a college guy from school, so tonight I would be on my own until late. I had nothing better to do, and yet I found myself hesitating anyway. “I’m not sure,” I said. “I’m kind of tired…”

  “Oh,” Frank said. He sounded crestfallen, as if I’d just ripped his heart from his chest and played basketball with it.

  “Yeah, I can come over,” I said, then let out a long breath of air. “My car is out of service, but I can take a cab. Give me fifteen minutes?”

  “Oh, yeah, of course,” Frank said. “I’ll set the table.” I bid my father goodbye and closed my eyes, wondering if I’d make a mistake agreeing to go over there. I knew he was trying to be better—to be sober—but some small part of me just couldn’t accept it. I wanted a relationship with him, of course, but it was easier said than done, especially with Frank. But as I sat there in the silence of my home, an internal debate going on in my head, I remembered what Mrs. Dunham had said to me earlier.

  It’s up to him to change, and it’s up to you to let him.

  Groaning, I got to my feet and slipped my shoes back on, feeling worn out and tired, ready to drop into bed. If anything, maybe Frank had made something decent for dinner. Steaks, maybe. Or pizza. Even pizza sounded damn good. I slipped my jacket on and grabbed a handful of crumpled bills before heading out the door to catch a cab.

  “This is for you, Carter,” I said to the sky. “I hope you’re happy.”

  Frank still lived in the same house I’d grown up in, a quaint little three-bedroom home on the outskirts of the city near the bay. He and my mother had bought the home as newlyweds, and even after I was born, mom had refused to sell it for a bigger place. Therefore, I’d grown up there, lived in that tiny house through middle school and high school. It wasn’t until I was standing on the front porch, letting my gaze wander over the weather-beaten garden gnomes and peeling paint on the door, that I realized I hadn’t been back in months…even longer, actually. Since mom had died.