If I Fall

by Amber Thielman

  “You’re loca,” Ava murmured. “I wouldn’t pick a fight with David Drake if my life depended on it.”

  “I’m not here to fight him, Ava,” I said. “I’m here to make peace. If not for Mr. Drake or me, then at least for Carter.”

  “Maybe we should have Ty with us,” Ava said. “Or even Jay. I know the dude is gay, but he could probably fuck somebody up pretty good.”

  “Good grief, Ava. Chill. You’re not even coming in. Besides, they’re both working.” I opened the door, wincing as the hinge on Missus Betty’s springs creaked and squealed. Jay had managed to tinker with the insides, making her a tiny bit more reliable to drive, but the dingy body of the car was a lost cause.

  “Leave the car on,” Ava hissed. “If Mr. Drake comes after you with a rifle, I want to be able to flee the scene.”

  “Stop being dramatic.” I slammed the door and glared at her through the window, feeling suddenly worked up and anxious as I clutched Carter’s journal to my chest for support. I knew that coming to make things right with Carter’s father had to be done. It had constantly been nagging me in the back of my mind like a cold case waiting to be solved. I didn’t know if talking to Mr. Drake would make us friends. I doubted it would even warm him up to me, but it had to be done, if not for myself, for Carter.

  I could feel Ava’s eyes burning into the skin on my back as I made my way across the lawn and to the front door. Both Melanie’s minivan and David’s SUV were parked in the driveway, so I knew he was home. I wasn’t sure if that was for better or worse. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the front door and waited. After a moment, the door swung open, and Melanie appeared. I had expected David Drake, so I was both relieved and put at ease when his face did not appear at once.

  “Khloe?” Melanie said. “Oh, dear, how wonderful it is to see you!” She drew me into her, squeezing, and I embraced the familiar smell of the woman. It was a smell I had grown to miss after the passing of my mother.

  “It’s good to see you, too,” I said and hugged her back. “Can I come in?”

  “Of course, dear.” Melanie opened the door for me and beckoned me in, shutting it behind her. Gracie, who’d been coloring in a notebook on the floor, raised her head when I came in.

  “Khloe!” she shouted and jumped to her feet before running and flinging her arms around my mid-section. “Where have you been?” she demanded, tilting her head up to look at me. “I’ve missed you a whole lot.”

  “I’ve missed you, too, girlfriend,” I said, mussing her blonde hair. “Sorry I’ve been out of touch. I’ve just been working on getting my life sorted out.”

  “I like the sounds of that,” Melanie said. “How’s your father? I know he wasn’t doing very well the last time I saw him.”

  “He’s much better, actually,” I said. “He’s getting sober, trying to make up for all the lost time.” Melanie put a hand to her heart, looking pleased.

  “Wonderful,” she said. “I’m so happy to hear that things are better for you. I know it was really tough on you after Carter’s passing.”

  “I still miss him every day,” I admitted. “Some days are okay, and some days are absolutely horrible.”

  “I don’t think we’ll ever stop missing him,” Melanie said. “But the pain will fade. Trust me on that.” She squeezed my shoulder, forcing a smile. Gracie, bored with the adult conversation, retreated to her coloring pad.

  “Thank you for inviting me in, Mrs. Drake,” I said. “But there is a reason I’m here.” I looked down at the journal clutched between my sweaty fingers. Melanie followed my gaze, but there was no spark of recognition in her eyes. She really had no idea about Carter’s journal. “Is Mr. Drake home?” I asked. “I would really like to speak to him if that’s a possibility.”

  “Speak to him?” Melanie repeated. “Speak to David?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Oh, Khloe, I’m not sure that’s a very good idea. I know you two have always locked horns.”

  “Please,” I said. “I just need to make things right. For Carter.” Melanie sighed, forfeiting, and forced a smile. At that moment, I heard David coming up the stairs, listening to the steel-toed boots he’d often worn during work clank against the wooden steps. He emerged through the kitchen door, spotted me standing in the living room, and froze.

  “Khloe,” he said. “This is a surprise.”

  There was a moment of silence as we stared each other down, not speaking. Finally, Melanie cleared her throat and started forward, beckoning me to go with her. I stepped toward David and plastered the politest smile on my face that I could muster. In my hand, Carter’s journal felt heavy suddenly, like a handbag full of bricks.

  “I was hoping I could come and apologize to you, face to face,” I told him. I stepped forward again, but David made no move to meet me halfway. He stood near the kitchen door, staring, silent, setting my nerves on edge. This, I knew, was yet another situation where a drink before facing this man would have done me well.

  “What is it exactly that you want, Khloe?” David asked. As I looked at him, I was finally able to notice the toll that his son’s death had taken on the man. His eyes were dark, skin taut, and he looked to have aged ten years just in the time I had seen him last. He looked run down and ragged, like an old man ready to kick the bucket.

  “I want to apologize for any hurt or pain I’ve caused you,” I told him. “I know you never thought much of me, and I know you think that I’m to blame for Carter’s death. I don’t believe that’s true, but I don’t expect you to understand.”

  David tossed the oily rag down onto the coffee table and took a seat in his recliner, staring at me. He reached for a mug of coffee sitting on the table and raised it to his lips. I cleared my throat, looking over to Melanie for guidance. She smiled and nodded, encouraging me. At this point, Gracie had risen from her spot on the floor and had crossed the room to sit down on the bottom step of the staircase as if preparing for shit to hit the fan.

  “Is that all?” David asked me after a moment. Our eyes met, and there was nothing but coldness in his expression. Anger. Hostility. I looked down at the journal in my hands, feeling sick, wishing Carter was here to back me up.

  “Do you think that maybe instead of blaming his decision on his friend, you could come to face the fact that maybe your son just wasn’t happy?” I said. “Do you think that maybe all these years he struggled with demons, but he never felt comfortable telling you about them?”

  “What are you saying?” David asked. “You think my own son was too uncomfortable not to be able to talk to me? What about you, Khloe? If you two were so close, why didn’t he talk to you about it?”

  “David,” Melanie warned, but her interjection did nothing. His gaze didn’t even flicker in her direction.

  “I’m just saying that maybe instead of blaming one another, we can all agree that what Carter did was by his own choice, no one else’s,” I said. “We all loved him very much, but I feel like the feud between you and me would have hurt him even more if he was still here.”

  David stared at me for a long moment. The house was silent, so quiet that I could hear the ticking from the old grandfather clock Melanie had bought years ago when Carter and I had been grade- school kids.

  “I think you should leave,” David said finally. “I have no patience for this today.”

  “You want me to leave?” I stepped forward again, toward the chair, but then stopped. “I’ve come here to make peace. Carter would have wanted it. Can’t we at least give him that? I’m not much of a believer in your religion, Mr. Drake, but if Carter is in heaven right now, maybe this is what he needs to hear. Don’t you believe that, too?”

  “Heaven?” David repeated. “If that boy has gone anywhere, it’s to hell!” He rose from his chair. His face suddenly flushed with the color of an angry toddler. He heaved the mug of coffee, not bothering to watch as it hit the wall and shattered into pieces. Black liquid pooled on the carpet,
dripping from the putrid green paint. “Suicide is a sin in my eyes,” David said. “Carter didn’t go to heaven. I didn’t think you were so naive and stupid.”

  “You’re a monster,” I said. Beside me, Melanie was staring at us, her skin ghostly white, lips pursed. “Carter was the best person I knew. How dare you speak of him that way!”

  “He lived his life in sin,” said David. At the bottom of the staircase, knees now drawn to her chin, Gracie was watching us in wide-eyed fear. “I did not help create a gay son.”

  “You knew he was gay?” I stared at him, my lip trembling. “You knew he was gay, and you shunned him for it!” I stepped forward again. “Out of everything a person can choose to be in this world, you shunned him because he was gay? You found out he wasn’t like you, and you shamed him for it, didn’t you?”

  “Get the hell out of my house!” David shouted. He pointed at the front door, practically seething with fury. “You’re nothing but a Christless, no-good whore!”

  “Daddy!” Gracie sobbed. I saw her cover her ears and begin to rock, tears springing from her eyes. Melanie watched us still, fearful, one hand over her mouth, eyes wide with shock. I hadn’t expected her to back me up, but now I knew she wouldn’t. Nobody could stand up to David Drake.

  “Did you know he had a boyfriend?” I said. “Did you know that they were in love and they were happy? Heaven forbid your excuse for a God accepts something like that, right?”

  “Get. Out. Of. My. House!”

  “Fine. I’m gone.” I crossed the room to kiss Gracie on the head, feeling guilty that I’d stirred the anger up and then bailed, but it was impossible to talk to him. I should have known David Drake didn’t want to hear what I had to say. He was a stubborn man, set in his ways. If anything, I was glad I’d at least tried.

  “I’m sorry, Khloe.” Melanie breathed as I passed her to get to the door. “I’m so, so sorry.” I reached for the handle and then turned around.

  “None of this is your fault,” I told her. “You and Gracie are my family. I’m sorry I caused trouble.” I stepped out of the house and made my way back to the car. Ava was staring wide-eyed from the passenger seat, looking both curious and terrified all at the same time. I slid into the seat and slammed the car into drive.

  “How did it go?” she asked. I glanced back one last time at the Drakes’ house, at Carter’s childhood home, and shrugged.

  “As well as could be expected.”

  Despite being shaken over my run-in with David Drake, I forced myself to focus on anything else besides the negativity he had laid upon me. Ty, the sweetheart he was, treated Ava, Jay, and me to dinner at a nice French place before escorting us to the nightly NA meeting. As we walked down the bright Seattle streets, Ava’s arm linked with Jay’s and my hand being squeezed by Ty, I realized how proud I was of both Ava and myself. Since her first meeting, Ava had stayed clean and sober, a task I wasn’t sure she would be able to do. Yet, here she was. She had done it, and she had done it well. I couldn’t have been prouder.

  “I think it’s awesome what you tried to do today,” Ty said as we walked. “That takes a lot of courage.”

  “Well, it didn’t do any good,” I said with a shrug. “David Drake was having none of it.”

  “It’s the thought that counts,” Jay called over his shoulder. “You were the bigger person, Khloe. Carter would have been really glad.”

  “Carter’s not here,” I murmured. Ty glanced over at me and squeezed my hand.

  “Jay told me a bit about how close you and Carter were,” he said. “I didn’t know him well, but I’d met him around once or twice on campus. He seemed like a really great guy.”

  “He was,” I said. “Every moment that passes by without him barely gets easier. They say time heals all wounds, but I call that bullshit.”

  “I second that,” Ava said. “I don’t think it ever gets easier.”

  “It may not get easier,” Ty said. “But the pain lessens.”

  “I just… I wish I knew what he had been thinking when he did it.” I found myself drawing nearer to Ty until our hips met, and I could feel him against me. He pulled me into him, his hand dropping mine and curling around my shoulder to pull me into him instead. “I just wish I knew what the problem was. Maybe I could have helped.”

  “I don’t think you could have, Khloe,” Ty said. “I think Carter had a lot of stuff going on that didn’t involve you.”

  “He should have talked to me. He should have told me things. I was his best friend.” Tears pooled in my eyes. I was overloaded with emotion, probably because of the fight with David Drake.

  “If you blame yourself forever, you’ll never be able to move on,” Jay said. “That’s a fact, Khloe. Do you really think that’s what Carter would want for you?”

  “Of course not,” I admitted. “But it doesn’t make it easier.”

  “Maybe not easier.” Ava released Jay’s arm and turned around to face me, her warm brown eyes meeting mine. “Maybe not easier,” she said again. “But definitely bearable. We’re here for you, chica.” She hugged me then, and it wasn’t until I could feel her tear-stained cheek against mine that I realized she was crying. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for never giving up on me.”

  The guilt and frustration I felt toward Mr. Drake gnawed at me all week, and on that following Saturday, I found myself back over at the Drake household, determined for the last time to apologize and leave that house without starting a fight. However, as I arrived, ready to try once again to make amends, I found Melanie in the driveway, packing her minivan with suitcases. In one arm, she was holding a sleeping Gracie, and with her free hand, she was loading the car.

  “Mrs. Drake?” I called, stepping out of my car. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

  “Hi, Khloe,” Melanie said. She stopped and smiled at me, but her expression was sad. “I’m very glad you’re here. I didn’t want to leave without seeing you first.”

  “What’s going on?” My eyes followed the luggage that Melanie was throwing into the van, and I felt a tug of guilt. “Oh, God,” I said. “This isn’t because of me?”

  “Oh, no,” Melanie said. She turned to face me, her eyes welling up with tears. “We’re separating,” she said. I could see that she had been crying, her eyes were brimmed with red, and her complexion was puffy. She clutched Gracie to her bosom, desperately.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Oh, goodness, child. Don’t be.” She handed Gracie to me as she loaded two packed bags into the back of the van. “I love David,” she said. “God knows I love him more than I ever thought was possible. But he needs to fix himself before he can fix our family.”

  I glanced back toward the house, and my eyes met David’s over Gracie’s sleeping blonde head. He was standing at the window, curtain drawn back as he watched Melanie load the car. He looked sad. Sadder than I’d ever seen him, and I felt a stab of pain in my heart.

  “I think you’re doing the right thing,” I said, turning back to the car. “You and Gracie deserve a husband and a father. Let him grieve. Some people just take longer than others.” I leaned down and scooted Gracie into the back seat, covering her with a blanket. As I shut the door, Melanie yanked me into a warm embrace.

  “You have always been family to us,” she said. “And I don’t know if you believe this or not, but you were family to David, too. Sometimes, Khloe, a person’s pain is so deep that all they can think of to do is take it out on someone else.” I hugged her back, feeling an overwhelming urge to cry.

  “Keep in touch,” I said. “When Gracie wakes, kiss her for me.”

  I watched the tail lights to Melanie’s van disappear down the road and around the corner, wondering if I would ever see either one of them again. Melanie had been a mother to me and Gracie like a sister. Watching them leave was like saying goodbye to a good friend, but not only that, Melanie and Gracie had been the last part of C
arter I had.

  With a sigh, I slipped back into my car and started the engine, sneaking a peek back toward the house. David had vanished from the window, and I couldn’t bring myself to go in and apologize. I no longer cared.

  Ty worked the night shift on Saturday, so Ava and I found ourselves at Jay’s place with a bunch of phony horror movies and pizza. I sat cross-legged on the floor, Carter’s journal in my lap as I halfway paid attention to the creepy music on the screen. Ava was on the couch, her feet propped up in Jay’s lap, a bottle of bronze nail polish open and resting between her fingers.

  “This movie gets me every time,” Jay said. “I don’t know what it is about Stephen King, but he’s the god of literary fiction.”

  “He’s a creep,” I said. “And this movie is creepy. Animals coming back from the dead? It’s demented.”

  “That’s what makes it so good!” Jay handed the pizza box over, and I took a piece, immediately dropping a glob of sauce all down the front of my shirt and onto Carter’s journal.

  “Shit.”

  “Red isn’t really your color,” Ava said, admiring her nails. I glared at her and reached for a napkin, wiping the front of the leather-bound book with a cloth.

  “It’s been a while,” Jay said, noticing my eyes skimming over the book. “It’s been a while since you’ve read from there.”

  “He’s right you know,” Ava said with a nod. “You carry it around like a crazy person but haven’t actually opened it. What’s up with that?”

  “I just…” I hesitated, unsure of what to say. I hadn’t been able to open the journal recently, and I had no idea why. While things in life were starting to come together and look up, there was still another side of it that was tearing me apart inside. Every day, Carter was starting to fade away a little bit more, and it was something I was starting to notice. I no longer thought about him on a constant basis, and I was terrified. I was terrified that once I stopped thinking of him, once I stopped reading his journal, he would be gone. Forever.