When He Falls Read online

  "Well that's pretty," Debbie, one of the nurses, said when she entered the room. "Look at the pretty flowers, Lisa."

  Ma lifted her head an inch and peeked under her lashes. Her hair was shorter than what I was used to, and the cut made her look younger. She risked a glance my way. I smiled at her, hoping that maybe today she would remember me.

  "Hi, Ma. How are you feeling today?" I walked around to help Debbie move her from the chair to her bed. Ma struggled a bit, but I managed to tuck her in tightly under the sheets.

  "She's not having a good week," Debbie informed me, brushing a hand over my Ma's hair.

  I stepped back. It had never boded well for me when she was not "having a good week." Last time, she'd thrown a mug at me and called me by his name.

  "Will it be okay if I sit here for a while?" I glanced at Debbie.

  "Of course, dear," Debbie patted the chair beside Ma's bed. "She won't bite."

  I snickered, walking toward the chair. "Are you sure about that?"

  "You just make sure you don't piss her off. Here—" she handed me a book "— she loves being read to a lot lately."

  I stared at the book. It didn't look threatening, but it terrified me anyhow. The cover was blue with a flower on it and white, curly letters. I turned it over and saw a photo of the author, smiling at me.

  "What's it about?" I scrunched my forehead.

  "It's a story of unrequited love. She really likes it." Debbie walked out the room, leaving me alone with Ma, the woman who bore me for "almost ten months," she’d said too many times, yet she barely recognized me now.

  She was terrified of me. The fear was present behind her eyes. I gave her my warmest smile and raised the book for her to see. "You want me to read this?" She didn't give me an answer. "Or I can tell you another story about a mother and her son, and their travel adventures?"

  I made it sound intriguing and delightful, although it had been far from it. Ma lifted a hand and with a trembling finger, pointed at the book.

  Sighing, I opened it to a page with a folded corner and worked on something I found painful to do—more painful than an arm around my neck, or trunk-like legs crushing my ribs, or numerous punches on my face. But if it would bring joy and happiness to the only woman I trusted and eternally loved, I would do so, over and over again, even if it killed me.

  Chapter Three

  Maggie

  June stood at the altar, looking handsome in the tux we had chosen months ago. It fitted him to a tee. He brushed his hair off his forehead. I'd asked him only a million times to get his hair cut before the wedding.

  His eyes didn't twinkle. They were flat and lifeless. There wasn't any trace of the smile which I dearly adored. He moved his hand from his hair to the back of his neck and squeezed the muscles there. Uh-oh. He was nervous. But nervous about what? He wasn't the type to get nervous during public events. Not him. Not the star of our high school's football team.

  I took a step forward and tried to catch his attention. I wanted him to be aware of my presence. To focus only on me so I could remind him that we were in this together. Just me and June against the world. I stepped again and again, but instead of moving forward, I was pulled to the very back of the church, until I was standing in line along the last pews. My feet were heavy with lead. I glanced down, bunched the hem of my dress up to my ankles and forced some kind of movement out of them, but nothing happened.

  "Come on, move!"

  I raised my head and looked at the church. Our guests were not admiring me anymore. Soft whispers filled the large room. When did the organ stop? Cora, the organist I'd hired, was supposed to be playing the Wedding March. I was supposed to be marching down the aisle. People were supposed to be watching me make my way to my groom. All heads turned toward the front of the church, where June still stood. Something wasn't right, and I couldn't figure out what it was. It nagged at me like an itch I couldn't scratch.

  "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness..." An invisible force tugged at my gut when I heard the priest begin the ceremony.

  "No! Wait for me. Don't start yet!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, and yet, the priest kept on talking, and our wedding guests had their eyes trained to the front, ignoring the flailing bride behind them.

  I begged my feet to start running. They moved, but everything around me whizzed past. My chest constricted. I wheezed, pushing through my weak lungs.

  "Wait. Please, wait! June! I'm here. I'm here!" I pleaded.

  My only response was a laugh. It was so distinct—a braying cackle—and so familiar, Delaney's signature laugh. But, where was she? I glanced around, stuck on a spot, and searched for the source of her laugh. It originated from the front of the church.

  My heartbeat thundered. I stopped running. I stopped listening. The center aisle widened, opening up to the spectacle right up front.

  And I just watched.

  I watched as June repeated the vows after the priest. I became a witness as Delaney took the same vows. They exchanged rings, and they kissed. The guests, supposedly mine and June's, applauded and cheered.

  My chest continued to tighten. Dizziness swooped in until the only sounds present were the thrumming of my pulse and the warbled cheer around me. June and Delaney made their way toward the back of the church, where I stood with weakened knees.

  June averted his eyes from me, and stared down at his feet, while he held his new wife's hand. Delaney glared right at me, wearing a mocking grin. When they stopped in front of me, my body trembled. The world around me tilted. I clasped my own wilted bouquet over my chest, and I asked, "Why?"

  Delaney spread her lips into a proud, taunting smile. "You're too late. He's mine now." And she let out that menacing cackle.

  I reached for June and caught nothing but air. I found myself suddenly alone. They were all gone--the guests, the priest, June, and Delaney. Big, fat tears ran down my cheeks. My legs buckled and I collapsed to the floor.

  A high-pitched cry echoed in the church, up to the rafters, through the vaulted ceilings. I looked down at my hands and suddenly found a baby girl squirming in my arms instead of the wilted bouquet.

  "What do I do?" I asked it. "What do I do now? Tell me. Tell me! I don't know what to do."

  The baby screamed louder. Her cries became a piercing, screeching wail. And all I could do was cry with her until the tiled floor opened up and gobbled me up.

  I gasped to take a full breath of air, filling my lungs, as I opened my eyes to unfamiliar surroundings. I tried to clear the fog in my head to bring familiarity around me. My shoulders trembled from a sudden chill. A shudder crawled along my spine.

  My chest expanded, forcing air into it. The fog lifted and memories flooded into my mind. Getting up to sitting, I swiped at my face and expected wetness on my skin, but my cheeks were bone dry.

  "June," I called out his name in the dimly lit room, even though I knew that he wasn't here, that he wasn't coming. I covered my face with cupped hands.

  When had I lost him? How could I let it happen?

  I'd given him everything I could. He'd taken each part of me and carelessly threw them aside. And all he'd left behind was a gaping hole in my heart as big as the dark hole that swallowed me up in my dream.

  I could stare at the ceiling forever, but it would not change, much like my life. Once I heard noises outside of the room, I decided it was finally time to join the living. A carafe of water and an empty glass sat on the bedside table, most likely left there by my ever-thoughtful sister. I'd drank half of it already, I should drink the rest and do what I needed to do. I would require a fairly full bladder. First-morning pee was the best, I'd read.

  But I only stared at the carafe and headed to the bathroom. I didn’t go back to sleep, too afraid to return to the dream again.

  After using the facilities, I showered quickly and efficiently, brushed my teeth and combed my hair. All the while I avoided seeing my reflection and the self-taunting that would happen if I even so much as glanced at
it. While I leered at the pregnancy test I’d bought before leaving Fresno, and I’d stuffed in the small drawer beside my bed, I dressed in a pair of old jeans and plain T-shirt. Then I slammed the drawer shut before heading out of the room.

  I ambled through the great room where I'd rested my head yesterday, and straight into the large kitchen. The smell of fresh coffee filtered through the air.

  Nica sat at the table, facing away from me and Aimee had some pale colored cereal mush in front of her. Aimee didn't seem too happy with it, and she made a face at it.

  Aimee spotted me. “Anty!” Cereal mush splattered all over her mom's face when she raised both hands, one holding a spoonful of mush.

  "Oh geez," Nica sighed, wiping the sticky bits off with a tea towel, then she looked over her shoulder. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

  I shrugged, padding my way to her and Aimee.

  "You have a bit more color on your cheeks now. That's good." Nica returned her focus on coaxing Aimee to finish her mush.

  I peered at the bowl on the table and scrunched up my face. Would I feed my baby the same thing? With a quick sniff, I wrinkled my nose at the contents of the bowl, and poked a finger in to scoop a tiny amount. I licked the cereal off my finger. Ew. Colorless and bland. What horrific stuff. "I don't think anyone should eat that. It’s disgusting."

  Nica struggled not to laugh, spreading her lips into a flat smile and a quirk of a brow instead. She was trying to keep her Best-Mom-Ever vibe. She scooped another small amount out of the bowl with the spoon. Without looking at me, she informed, "It's organic cereal with breast milk."

  I gagged. "Gross! Why didn't you tell me it has breast milk? Gah!" I snatched the tea towel from her hand and swiped it over my tongue, but I forgot that she had used it to wipe her face earlier, and the chunks of dried cereal scraped over my tongue. "Oh my god! Ah!" I sputtered, which Aimee found hilarious, and the kid giggled at me.

  Nica also found it funny. She laughed hysterically while I dashed to the kitchen sink, leaned over to get some water into my mouth from the tap, and scrubbed my tongue with my fingers.

  "Relax. I was just kidding. Wash it down with some coffee, and there's pancakes warming in the drawer. Levi made them this morning before he left," Nica said once her laughter died down.

  I shook my head, trying to dispel the bland cereal goop out of my mouth, while I grabbed a clean cup beside the coffee maker and poured coffee into it. All the while I was asking myself if the caffeine was good for me in my current condition. The smell didn't turn me off, and so I figured I would only have it this time, one last time. I drank it black and hot, hoping the heat would be enough to burn off my taste buds. Anything to get the cereal goop aftertaste out.

  Even though the thought of Levi's delicious pancakes made my mouth water, I skipped it. I was in no mood to eat. I sat on the chair beside Aimee, and sipped my coffee while I watched Nica fight the little one to accept her breakfast.

  "Are you feeling any better?" I remembered Nica saying Aimee had a fever which was why they did not leave for the city. I leaned my head down and kissed my niece on the forehead.

  "Yes. She's teething. Her molars should pop out soon. I can already see some of the buds trying to break through her gums. That’s why she’s having this instead of waffles. Her gums get irritated, and she gets uncomfortable." Nica didn't look like she was having a hard time with Aimee's teething, unlike what I'd read on the Internet. She looked well rested and healthy. Levi was definitely taking great care of her.

  I liked my brother-in-law. I couldn't think of a better person for my sister. They were the sweetest couple in existence. And now they had the most perfect girl to complete their family.

  Aimee regarded us like she appreciated she was the topic of our conversation. “You wanna see, anty? You wanna see my mow-laws?” she asked, hooking a finger on the corner of her mouth. I peeked quickly and made an ahhh sound. Clearly pleased, she gave me a grin when she popped her finger out of her mouth. If all kids were as easy to care for as my niece, I shouldn’t have a problem with mine. I could handle this.

  "Mom called again this morning." Way to bust my bubble, Nica. "I told her you were sleeping, and that you needed rest," Nica continued with a straight face.

  "Hmmm," was all I offered and sipped on my coffee again. It was the right temperature, not scalding to burn the surface of my tongue, but the nutty flavor helped rid of the grossness of cereal.

  Nica raised an eyebrow at me. "You have to talk to her sooner or later. She was freaking out yesterday. I still can't believe you traveled on your own without letting any of us know."

  "I got here fine," I reasoned, staring down at my reflection in the dark liquid. I wanted to add that I was nearly twenty and completely capable of traveling on my own. My mother and Nica had always coddled me. Although that was partly my fault. I’d let them.

  "Yes, thankfully," she huffed. "I hope you don't do that again." If she was waiting for an answer from me, she wasn't going to get it.

  We stayed quiet for a few minutes. Then Anita, their housekeeper, came in and offered to take Aimee out to her play yard as long as she finished her breakfast. I’d never seen a kid so eager to shovel goop in her mouth as fast as she could.

  "Come to the other room so we can talk." Nica didn't wait for me to respond. She got up from her chair and rubbed the top of Aimee's head before walking out of the kitchen.

  I gritted my teeth and rolled my eyes behind Nica's back. I didn't want to talk. I came here because I wanted to avoid talking to my mother. Although Nica could be more understanding than our mother, she didn’t hold anything back. She had tried many times to connect with me before leaving Fresno and coming back here after June left me on our wedding day, the day Nica herself had arduously planned for us for a few months and even paid for most of it.

  I owed her a lot. It would have been the best wedding June, I and our families and friends would have seen back home. It certainly was memorable, even if we didn’t make it to the reception. It hadn't been for how great the vanilla and lemon cake was, or how lavish the decorations, or how much fun everyone had during the dance. It was because our high school's crowned homecoming king skipped town and married the high school slut, instead of his queen. All of Nica's plans had gone to waste.

  Nica became wedding planner to the stars after her own wedding to Levi made it to the front page of a big-time wedding magazine. People even blogged about it, and she'd even guest-starred on a couple of wedding reality shows. I didn’t expect her to have time for mine, but she did. Nica was always looking out for me. Of course, while she did the planning, she’d ask me if I was sure I should be getting married at such a young age.

  At this day and age, not a lot of people my age got married, at least not in our part of the world. But I’d been with June for such a long time, I couldn’t imagine not having him in my life. Even though, I could admit, not out loud, never out loud, that I’d mostly taken the marriage plunge because of the sex thing. Even that had blown up in my face.

  Letting Nica take care of the clean up after the blow up was probably the smartest decision Mom had made for me. I didn't know what I would have done if I'd been left to take care of all that. The two of them had protected me.

  I had no idea what Nica had done to the food and cake that had been prepared for the day. Nica was resourceful and creative, and generous. I knew the food didn’t go to waste. Levi had generously provided all the wine. I assumed all they needed to do was cart those back here.

  The entire troop of my sister’s business, Bliss Event Designers, including the terrifying Chase, had sheltered me from the gossipers and any further embarrassments. But it hadn't lasted long. A couple of weeks later while I was at my summer job, June and Delaney had come out of hiding, all glowing and happy and seemingly in love. They'd managed to break me again into pieces. The rumors had started once more, and I'd disappeared from the public's view. If people ever heard I could be carrying June's baby, the ramifications would be t
sunami-like. And so, I'd found myself here in Napa, in my sister's sunny kitchen.

  I grudgingly followed Nica, bringing my coffee with me. She chose one end of the big comfy sofa and patted the cushion beside her.

  Biting my bottom lip, I ran scenarios in my head to figure out the best ways to escape this very uncomfortable talk. Nothing quick and solid came to mind. I drank the rest of my coffee before putting the empty cup on the table, and then sat on the couch. Nica stretched her arms forward, took one of the bamboo coasters from a pile and placed it under the cup. I tried not to snicker. She could be neurotic, much more so than me. One would have to be if her mother was Lili-Anne Stewart, Queen of Mess.

  I could have inherited my mother's lack of cleaning skills, but I still spent a good many years with Nica before she left for college, and she'd drilled the need to be neat into my head so much I couldn't make a move without arranging or rearranging something to perfection first.

  Nica leaned back on the sofa, tucked one leg under her bum, and wrapped her hands around one knee, before facing me. She cocked her head to the side and got down to business. "How are you feeling?"

  What an odd question.

  "How do you think I'm feeling?" I didn't mean to sound curt, but lately, there hadn't been other ways when I get asked the same questions. She might as well have asked, "How are you holding up? Have you recovered? Do you want to run over June and Delaney for their betrayal?" These had been only a few samples of what I'd been asked in recent weeks.

  Nica heaved out a sigh. "I don't know. That's why I'm asking. I can pretend to know and say you're extremely upset, and rightly so, but I want to know what else beyond that." I popped open my mouth, but I didn't have enough courage to make a peep, so I closed it again and just stared at Nica. "Mom said you haven't even cried yet."

  "Why is that important?" I bit out. She and Mom were criers. While for me, even if I felt like I should, nothing came out. I seemed to only cry in my dreams.