The Falling, page 31
Once inside, I turned the lock on the door. I pressed my body against the cool wood. It was an attempt to stabilize myself, to keep myself upright. It didn’t work well, but I got to my room and slammed the door. I crawled into my bed and wrapped my comforter around my body to hide like I had done my whole life when things were bad.
That’s where I stayed until Elodie came home from her doctor’s appointment after work. The sun was down, my room black as night, and when she found me hiding from the world, she climbed into my bed. She lay next to me, both of us on our backs, looking up at the ceiling. She turned the flashlight on on her phone and shined it upward. Elodie held a picture of her sonogram from her appointment in the beam of light. It was in black-and-white and seemed to make her so happy that her hands were shaking as we both admired it. Her little avocado was now the length of a banana. She was so thrilled that she began to cry, and I joined my tears with hers. Even though we were crying for extremely different reasons, it felt so nice to have her inside my lonely bubble of life.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
Over the next week it was hard to dodge my many thoughts about Kael. Austin sent me update pictures of the interior of the empty side of Kael’s duplex at least once a day, and the look of pride on his face made my soul happy. I’d never admit it, but I was starting to look forward to the pictures, sometimes even allowing myself to hope Kael would be in the background of one.
I had gone through the motions of another week, and skipped Tuesday dinner again, which raised questions about birthday festivities for Austin and me. A celebration, orchestrated by Estelle, was the last thing I wanted. I wasn’t going to mention my upcoming birthday to anyone and hoped Austin would take a similar approach or at least not try to involve me in whatever plans he was making.
Each time I sat on my porch after a shift, I wished for the sound of Kael’s truck to rumble onto my street. The sun and the moon changed places, again and again, day after day, and I checked my phone too often, hoping for a word from him, but nothing came. I had told him to leave me alone, so what did I expect? I wondered if I should text or call him, but I couldn’t lose the last little bit of pride I had by reaching out first. It wasn’t that I was playing hard to get, I just didn’t know what the hell to say even if I did. Was he already tired of chasing me? Did I want him to chase me? No, I answered my own question. I wanted him to find me and keep me; that was the problem. Life was just complicated now.
I was booked to work most of the day and evening. I welcomed the distraction and the Sriracha noodles that Mali brought for me and Elodie. Elodie kept hiccupping, claiming the noodles weren’t too spicy as her nose ran and her eyes watered. After her shift she was going to an FRG meeting and a weekend cookout; I was glad that she was keeping busy lately, especially since she wasn’t hearing from Phillip enough.
The first appointment of my shift was Stewart, and I was so relieved to find her already checked in by Mali and lying facedown, asleep, on the treatment bed when I entered the room. Without having to make conversation, my thoughts roamed back to Kael. What was he doing right now? How was his discharge going, or did he lose it because of the incident with my brother? The thought made me feel sick.
My workday progressed uneventfully, but my mind was doing laps, trying to solve the puzzle of my confusion over Kael. I went through the list of pros and cons—what was right and what was wrong about him—and only felt more indecisive. Maybe there was more to the story than I allowed Kael to explain? I considered texting him to see if he was busy, to see if he still wanted a chance to explain himself, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I had three appointments left, and after giving the first two clients their treatments, I typed a text to Kael and deleted it, typed and deleted again, then tossed my phone into the drawer where I kept the dry towels.
After the last client, I retrieved the phone from the drawer and typed the text to Kael again. Something simple and not desperate, I reminded myself. I just wanted to know if he was really going to lose his discharge, that was it. Mostly.
Hey, do you want to come over after work today? I get off in an hour. No pressure.
Before I could stop myself again, I sent it, and before I could hide my phone the little typing bubbles on Kael’s side appeared. I held my breath and they disappeared. I waited a few more seconds and nothing came. Great, now I look even more like an idiot. I shouldn’t have texted him. I definitely, certainly, surely, truly shouldn’t have fucking texted him. Even if he was nice to my brother.
I was so glad this long day of work was finally ending. Other than my scheduled appointments, the salon had been slow all day. I was the only one with evening clients, and I agreed to close up. There were no more clients on the schedule sheet, and I doubted anyone would be walking past the mostly-closed stores within the next twenty minutes, so I straightened up my room for the night and got stuff ready for the morning. The cleaning company had been in the prior evening and everything was in pretty good shape. I just had to organize a few things and make sure all the candles were out and clean towels were stocked. I turned the lights off, one by one, before locking the back door—padlock, too—and shutting off the front desk light.
When I saw a shadow approach the entrance, I practically jumped out of my skin. I think I may have screamed a little, too. I stood still, trying to catch my breath and slow my heart rate. The shadow moved closer into view, and that’s when I saw that it was a man—a young one, but not a boy. Maybe a soldier, given the haircut. It was a little late for someone to just pass by. And I didn’t recognize him, which made me uneasy.
I had been alone in the spa at night only a few times and it was always fine, but for some reason, this man gave me the chills. He tugged at the door and I stepped into view, flicking the reception area lamp back on. I turned the flashlight off on my phone and kept a little distance from the door.
“Hey, sorry, are you closed?” he mouthed through the glass door. His voice was friendly enough.
“Yeah, we are.”
“Oh, sorry. I think I did something to my back during PT and was hoping you guys would still be open. Do you know anywhere else around here that’s open late?”
He seemed legit, friendly enough, and I immediately felt guilty for the way my imagination had instantly conjured up the worst-case scenario. I’d had a rough week and was obviously still a little wonky. I smiled at him to make myself feel better about branding him as a serial killer. I wasn’t going to stay for another hour—even though we really did need the business, and lord knows I really needed the money. Instead, I opened the door slightly and proposed a compromise.
“I don’t think anyone is going to be open past nine, but if you want to come in first thing in the morning I could be here extra-early,” I offered. I wasn’t just saying it to get the business; nothing except Walmart and fast food joints were open late in this town.
“I think I can get out of PT in the morning. Can I come in and put my name down?”
“Sure.”
The man stepped inside and looked into my eyes. It was a little off-putting, but honest, too, in a strange sort of way. He followed me to the desk, and I grabbed the paper version of the schedule, since I had already shut the computer down. I looked at my day tomorrow.
“I have a ten-o’clock opening and a twelve, but I could come in at nine or eight thirty for you, since you came all this way tonight,” I told him.
“Let’s do eight thirty so it will be extra-quiet in here.” He turned to look at the hours of operation painted on the front door in clear white letters.
“Okay.” I swallowed. “Eight thirty it is. Can I have your name, please?”
“Nielson,” he told me. I wrote it down. It sounded familiar, but I knew I had never seen his face before. I knew faces.
“Are you . . . you know, going to give me that kind of massage?” His voice crawled over me like tiny little spiders.
My stomach dropped. “What did you just say?” I snapped. I looked at the camera again, this time in a really obvious way. This time he noticed.
I wanted to throw up. I wanted to run. But I reached deep for my courage and held my ground.
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” I said, as firmly as possible. Then I reached for the landline and lifted it halfway to my ear.
He gestured in mock surrender, smirking. I thought I saw a flash of metal in the back of his jaw when he laughed. “I’m joking! Sorry, bad joke. Sorry, sorry.” He held his hands up. “No harm done.”
I stared at him silently, not lowering the phone, and hoping he couldn’t see my hand shaking or the way my knuckles were stretched and white, holding on to the phone as tightly as I could. It had been a while since someone made an offensive comment like that, and I didn’t find it funny, at all. After the longest few seconds of my life, he retreated, walking backward, keeping his eyes on me as he moved toward the front door.
Those icy blue eyes and taut pale skin were much more threatening now that he had been so inappropriate.
Just before he backed out of the door, the man smiled again, like he had a thought pop into his head.
“You’re Fischer’s daughter, right?” An alarm sounded in my head. Who was this guy?
“What?” I managed.
The bell on the door chimed when he leaned his back against the door frame.
“You look just like him.”
I was stunned into silence. My heart was pounding out of my chest. Please, please leave, I silently begged him. He turned around and hovered in the doorway. And in that moment, just as the door was slowly pulling closed, Kael appeared on the sidewalk. I thought I was going to pass out at the sight of him there.
Kael was illuminated under the streetlights. I wasn’t alone anymore.
“Martin?” The man knew Kael’s name. I don’t know why this web just kept surprising me.
Kael’s eyes searched my face.
“Are you okay?” he asked me, as he walked directly toward me, ignoring the man.
I nodded, confused, but felt my heart slow; the effect Kael had on me hadn’t diminished one bit. It was such a relief to have him here. Not only because of what had just happened, but because I wanted to see him. I knew I wanted to see him. I felt the air disappear from my lungs. They burned and my heart sped as I looked at him. His eyes took me in slowly before they darted around the lobby and he stepped inside. The man, Nielson, had taken off by the time I looked past Kael a moment later.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him.
He was dressed in all black, except for his typical stark-white sneakers. His hair was freshly buzzed and he was undeniably handsome, as always.
“You texted me. Did you not want me to come?” He took a step toward me.
I scoffed. “You didn’t reply.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked again. Nothing.
I held the phone up to show him the blank screen. Just my wallpaper of a sunset was there.
He shrugged his broad shoulders and looked into my eyes. “I came.”
“Why?” I was getting emotional already. I tried to reel it in and give him a moment to speak.
Kael’s expression softened and he shook his head slowly. I wished I could read his mind. “I’m sorry, I should have responded to your text. If you want me to go—”
I held my hand up. “No, I don’t want you to go,” I admitted.
The corner of his full lips twitched and pulled into a half-smile. “Good.”
I laughed, surprising myself. God, it felt so good to be near him. I grabbed my purse and walked toward him. I wanted to hug him, I wanted to hold on to him, I wanted to yell at him and laugh with him, I wanted to cry and scream and giggle and sit in silence. I didn’t have a fucking clue what I wanted. I didn’t know what to say to Kael or what the first step should be.
He seemed to sense my hesitation as he pushed the door open. “Shall we?” He waved his hand for me to go first.
I followed him outside and locked the shop door, forgetting about everything and everyone except Kael Martin.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
Kael opened the door and I climbed into his truck. The familiar smell of him saturated my senses; my nerves were unwinding second by second. I tried not to think about how much was left unresolved between us or how much I wanted to know what was going to happen next. I didn’t know what the hell to say or do, so I just sat there, leaning my back against the seat, trying to gather my thoughts.
Kings of Leon’s first album was playing low through the speakers. I rolled down the passenger window to get some air. It smelled a little like fresh rain and earthworms. It helped calm me. The wind blowing, Kael driving, the loud thrum of the engine in this beast of a truck. It all helped calm me.
“Are you hot?” Kael’s voice was smooth as he put his seatbelt on.
“No. I’m okay.”
He smiled at me and I had to look away. I hated that my guard was slipping and slipping fast, but I felt a burst of relief when he looked at me, head tilted and lips parted. His eyes stayed on me. I could feel them but didn’t meet them.
“What?” I asked him, tucking my chin to my shoulder to hide my mouth.
“It feels good to breathe again,” he responded, and as I turned to look at him, his eyes were locked onto mine. I didn’t know how I could look away.
“You can’t just say something like that,” I teased him softly.
“I thought you wanted answers from me.”
I stared out the window as he continued to drive. “I do.”
Silence passed between us as he turned onto the main street, heading the opposite way from my house. I didn’t ask where we were going.
“Where do you want me to start?” His voice was so calming, so deep and comforting, even in this raw and uncertain moment.
“Well, how many lies were there?”
Kael sighed and the turn signal dinged as he waited at a red light. His eyes were on the road in front of us.
“I didn’t tell you about knowing your dad because when I went there that first week, I had no fucking idea that he was your dad, honest to God, Karina. I didn’t know before we walked in. I didn’t know anything about you. Yeah, I knew he had twins, but I didn’t know you or your brother. I thought you were just Elodie’s friend.”
Kael’s words gave me a hint of reassurance, but didn’t address why he had stayed silent about it for days and weeks after. “You’ve had plenty of time to talk to me and tell me what happened with my dad. But you never did.”
His jaw clenched, but his voice came out even. “At first, I didn’t tell you because you seemed so kind and my history with your dad was really complicated. It seemed easier not to get into all of that. Then we kept hanging out and then I started to—” He stopped as a flash of light illuminated the windshield.
He had swerved into another lane. A horn blared as Kael jerked the wheel to straighten the car and I caught my breath.
“Fuck, sorry.” Kael was looking straight ahead, his hands strangling the steering wheel.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
His chest was moving up and down like he was bursting with adrenaline and fear.
“Let’s just pull over here.” I pointed to a Dollar Tree across the intersection. He parked the car, but kept the ignition on. He switched the music off and turned his body to me.
“Are you okay?” he repeated. I nodded and he sighed, blowing air out of puckered lips.
We sat under the dim parking lot light and looked at each other, barely blinking, before I spoke, breaking the silence.
“Atlanta? Were you really not going to tell me that you bought a house there? You made me look like such an idiot in front of my dad, and you know how shitty that was for me.”
“I just closed on the property, literally the day your dad came to your house. I don’t know how he even knew that, but I had every intention of telling you that day. I came hoping to celebrate with you, actually. Hell, I even thought about trying to convince you to go with me . . . . The house is in bad shape, it’ll take me at least a year to get it ready to live in or sell.”
“Okay . . .” was all I could come up with. Deep down I really believed that he was telling the truth. I didn’t know why, but I just had a gut feeling that he wasn’t lying to me. Not about Atlanta, at least.
I took a deep breath, but kept eye contact. “Okay, so even if that’s all true, what about my dad? And Mendoza?”
“Mendoza is another story for a different day, but just try to put yourself in my shoes, knowing that my friend is deteriorating in front of my eyes and so fucking quickly. I wasn’t trying to keep it from you, but I’ve been really focused on helping him get by. Bringing other people into his shit would only make things harder for him. We’re all fighting the same battle with PTSD, but he’s losing, so I tried to keep everything and everyone around him as normal as possible, to help him feel less crazy.”
His eyes left mine and stared at the seat between us. My heart ached and swelled. It wasn’t my place to force Kael to tell me about Mendoza’s mental health. I felt like shit for even attempting to use that against him when this was really about my dad and the house in Atlanta.
“Okay,” I repeated. “And what about my dad? You’re telling me there wasn’t ever a time to tell me from that first day until now?”
“No, there was. And honestly, I’m sorry that I’m such a selfish person.” He rubbed his hand across his chin and pulled at his lips. “I was selfish, that’s it. I knew you wouldn’t want anything to do with me if your dad told you, which I figured he would. So I just kept taking more and more of your time. Karina, I have felt nothing for so long, I started to think I wasn’t capable of caring about anyone this way, so I got addicted to this feeling.”
