Catch My Fall (12 page)

“I’m going to need to take over the living room. Bit of a day, so I’d like to get my yoga in before dinner.”

Stellan glanced at me, smiling, his expression betraying the disappointment of our pow wow being cut short. I smiled back, and felt a strange pang of regret to close my sketchbook.

Stellan asked to take it home, and I begrudgingly said yes. I was sure there were more hidden away in the basement.

I watched him shrug into his coat, then stood in the open doorway as he climbed into his jeep and drove away. I’ve no clue how long I’d been standing there when my mother snuck up behind me.

“Alright you. Would you like to join me? I’m telling you, there’s nothing like a bit of yoga to lighten the spirit.”

I turned to find my mother standing behind me, topless, her long gray hair up in a bun.

I startled, averting my eyes. “Jesus, mom! Don’t sneak up on me naked! The door’s wide open. Mr. Hodges could see you!”

She smirked. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Her yoga mat was stretched out across the hardwood a second later. As she settled down, she gestured toward the closet, where she secreted away several extra yoga mats.

I took a deep breath. “Alright, but I’m not taking my shirt off.”

Mum sat in lotus position, eyes already closed. “Whatever, square. Turn on the stereo, will you?”

I did as was asked, collected a green yoga mat with a symbol of Ganesh across it, and settled onto the hardwood beside my topless mother as some Yanni caliber smooth jams oozed from the stereo.

I was halfway through downward facing dog before I began to chuckle softly. It was as though I’d just realized how strange my life was. In my thirties, home with mum, doing yoga in the living room, completely desensitized to her tatas being out and about. How many kids grow up with such crunchy mums and rebel against it, hiding their boobs away from the world? Yet here I was, feeling overdressed while in salutation of the sun. These existential notions faded with every flash of my mom’s knockers, soon replaced by visions of chimpanzees -

Chimpanzees and Stellan.

Mostly Stellan.

God damn it.

CHAPTER Seven

“M
orning, hon,” my mom said as I entered the kitchen.

It was Saturday morning, several days since our last topless yoga session and Stellan’s project proposal. I hadn’t worked on it since. Something about it turned my stomach every time I tried to sit down at my old drafting table. I had ideas – I had a million ideas for sketches, but without Stellan there, I half feared the house would burst into flames the second I put a pen to paper.

I paused in the hallway, part of me feeling guilty to look like a ragamuffin that morning especially after a week or more of what I was sure she saw as ‘making progress.’ If she was disappointed, she didn’t show it. She loved her weekend mornings, sitting at the counter, drinking her coffee, reading her book, or on Sunday’s, her morning paper.

She smiled at me. “You put the drawing desk back together, I see.”

I yawned. “That was Stellan.”

She smiled into her coffee cup. “What a sweet thing.”

I agreed and turned to head back upstairs.

“Have you been drawing then?”

I stopped and considered my answer. Telling your mother you’ve potentially rediscovered an interest in art when she spends her days breathing it – it’s just asking for a supportive exchange. She’d always loved finding my comics around the house, pretending to get my obscure humor. When she couldn’t make sense of it, she praised my technique or use of color, acting as though she’d discovered the lost Vermeer at every napkin doodle of mine she found.

I shrugged and leaned against the wall. “Stellan asked me to work on some sketches.”

“Is it for an app?”

My mother loved her gadgets. She owned an iPhone – Christmas gift from me the year before. Stellan had taken it from her and given her every application a near sixty year old woman could find use for. She prided herself on her savvy.

“Yeah. Some game he’s programming.”

She shifted again, and I could see the excitement, like steam rising at the hourly surge of Old Faithful. I slowly faded down the hallway, but there was no dodging my mother when it came to art.

“Can I see what you’re working on?”

I pursed my lips. “I haven’t really gotten started, honestly.”

She frowned, then did her best to hide the once over she gave me. Yes, I was back in my penguin pajama pants. Yes, they were clean.

“Well, do you have plans to work on it today?” I knew she meant well, but I was chafing severely.

“I don’t know. I haven’t drawn in so long, and I don’t even have a sketchbook -”

“I thought you went down to Quill and Press. Did they not have what you needed?”

“No they did -”

“You didn’t buy them?”

“No.”

“You have my card, honey. You could get what you needed.”

I bristled, taking another step down the hall. “I know.”

“Well, why don’t we make a trip? Let me get dressed and we can go -”

“No, Mom!” She stopped, but I didn’t. “I don’t want you buying me sketchpads and pens – or anything for that matter. I’m not a fucking teenager!”

She paused. “I never suggested that you were.”

No, that was me. I took a breath to calm my tone. “I’m sorry, but I’d just rather go without, okay?”

She came toward me, her hands out and her voice growing sharp. I felt a fight coming, the kind that had died with my teenage years. This certainly wasn’t helping my sense of self-worth.

“That doesn’t make any sense, Faye. How do you expect to get them if you won’t let someone buy them for you?”

I turned and wandered off toward the staircase. “I don’t know. I’ll start hooking or something. Just don’t worry about it.”

Though I’d left the kitchen, I knew she heard me and her response was curt and simple. I was being ridiculous, she said.

I slumped down onto the bed and lied there a moment. Its allure had faded for the day. My nerves were frayed, and my mother would most likely benefit from my absence. Jackie had been harassing me to come visit while Kevin was gone for the day. I considered. I sighed. I may have even muttered some expletives. Then, I rolled out of bed, threw the closest outfit I could find on and headed out.

There were no less than three separate batches of cookies on the counter when I arrived, and two more in the process of being mixed or baked. I stopped at the kitchen door and stared at the array, part of me salivating, and part of me concerned. Jackie was clearly stressed.

“What’s going on, lady?”

She smiled as she bustled around her kitchen. “Nothing!”

Her voice was high pitched and agitated. I gave her a moment to decide whether she’d share further. She didn’t.

I sat down and watched her work.

Jackie was a machine. She hovered over her Kitchenaid Mixer like the witches of
Macbeth
, tossing in eye of newt and chocolate chips as the recipe (which she had completely memorized) called. Each batch of cookies was different; there was old-fashioned chocolate chip, a chocolate peanut butter chip, a toffee crunch, and finally, a white chocolate cranberry oatmeal which I would be demanding a bag of to take home to my mother. Jackie continued to flit around the kitchen, as though she were a new kitchen appliance I was trying out – completely efficient and quiet, except for the soft whir of her mumbling to herself. I did my best to listen to the grumblings, but it was so sporadic and frantic that it felt like eavesdropping.

“Jackie! What’s up?”

“Nothing, I’m fine. Hey, how are you doing?” She asked as though she’d just noticed my arrival.

“Never been better -”

“Really?”

“No.”

“Oh,” she said and I could see she’d actually been hopeful. Unlike Meghan and Stellan, sarcasm could be lost on Jackie.

I gestured to the state of her kitchen. “Now, what’s going on with you? What’s with Robo-Donna Reed?”

She stood at the center of the kitchen, and it seemed as though her whole body was vibrating, like a tight-rope wire being pulled taut.

She scanned the kitchen, her eyes moving quickly. “Kevin wants to have kids.”

She blurted the words out like they were projectile vomit. She breathed deeply as though for the first time that day, and I waited for more. I’ve known Jackie for years, but I’d never thought her to be disdainful of such a thing as children.

“Is that bad?”

“No, not at all - it’s just the timing.”

“What’s wrong with the timing?”

She took another deep breath, wiped her hands on her apron, and sighed. “Nothing. I guess nothing.”

She turned and checked the batch of cookies in the oven.

“Did you tell him you’re not quite ready?”

“It isn’t what he wants to hear.”

I couldn’t see Jackie saying anything that Kevin wouldn’t relish in the hearing. He freaking worshiped her. The two of them turned my stomach these days when I spent time with them both, which to be honest I had avoided at all costs. Jackie and Kevin were that couple you’re lucky to know when you’re happy, but you hate knowing when you’re not. They somehow manage to remind me how pathetic, alone, and
not
happily married I am.

“Is there a specific reason for why it isn’t a good time?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t want to jinx it, but – maybe.”

I was curious, but I wasn’t going to pry. She was already frazzled.

She offered me a toffee crunch cookie, my favorite.

“How do you not have a huge ass, woman?” I asked, moaning into the first bite. It was still warm, and the toffee oozed from within.

She laughed. “I get a lot of exercise,” she said and blushed. I wanted to reach across the counter and slap her. “And I give most of them away, or Kevin eats them. I will admit, I went a little overboard, today.”

“A little?” I snagged another toffee crunch and eyed the Chocolate Peanut Butter Chip cookies. Those were Stellan’s favorite. “I’m happy to take a couple bags worth off your hands. You know Stellan, he’d eat all of this.”

She smiled. “That’s why we love that boy.”

She pulled a couple zip-loc bags from a drawer and began transplanting dozens of cookies. By the time she was done packing them up, I was taking five bags worth home with me – all the toffee crunch, all the oatmeal, and all the peanut butter chip. If I’d hoped to lose weight this week, I was in for a whopping pile of failure. God damn it, Jackie. Why can’t you punch and throw things, maybe drive erratically – you know, like normal people do when they’re stressed. She set the bag on the counter as my phone buzzed softly in my pocket. It was Stellan.

Need a favor. You free tonight?

I grumbled at the sudden turn of my stomach to see his name pop up, but I responded that I was indeed free. I set the phone on the counter and Jackie and I talked. I told her about the texts from Cole, that he’d asked if he could call, that I’d said no. Unlike Meghan, Jackie didn’t go off on a suffragette rally worthy praising of my resolve.

“Are you going to answer? If he calls?”

I paused. “No?”

Her eyebrows went up. “No?”

I took a deep breath. “No!” I said, profoundly. “That cock sucking fuck bag can eat a shit sundae for all I care. Fuck him. Why, do you think I should?”

“I don’t really know, hon. I think you should do what feels right, and if answering feels right, then you must. Maybe it will give you closure.”

The word closure stung a bit. Despite my recent shift in mood toward Cole, that moment reminded me of the affection I harbored for so long. It reminded me of how easily I’d been cast off.

“I’m not doing well, Jack. If I tell you something, do you promise not to judge me?” She smiled. Of course she did. “I swear to you, I’m so messed up right now I started – I almost started thinking Stellan was pretty.”

She laughed. “He is.”

“But I mean, I started feeling like – I don’t even know what I was feeling.”

She shifted a tray of some brand new cookie I’d never seen in her kitchen. I inhaled deeply – lemon something.

“Well, what brought it on?” She asked.

“Madness? Loneliness? I don’t know.”

The dream I’d had of Stellan, the warmth of his presence and his smile filtered back to mind. I found myself smiling. I quickly reined it in so she didn’t see. I told her about the dream.

“Sounds fantastic.”

“It
was
pretty great,” I said, blurting it out as violently as Jackie had when I arrived. “Frustrating though!”

“Did you wake up randy?”

“What? No!” I said, startled. “Maybe.”

“Awesome! It’s been a while, yeah?”

“It’s been for-frikkin-ever, Jackie. Oh my god!”

She smiled again, and I felt almost embarrassed to be talking about it - with comfort, especially. I didn’t see a taboo in Stellan, I saw my friend, and a friend I’d had longer than any other. My subconscious had done this to me. The subject of Cole began to filter away again, as it always did at the mere mention of Stellan. I felt lighter with each moment I thought of him. Damn it, Faye. Stop it.

“Did you Jill-Off after?”

Jill-Off – Jackie’s best attempt at being clever. It meant masturbate. I was determined not to answer this question, but I’m a bad liar. As I searched for a response, she laughed. It read on my face.

“It’s about time, lady!”

I let my head fall into my hands. “God, I’m so messed up right now.”

“I don’t think you’re messed up. Stellan is an amazing guy.”

“But he’s Stellan!”

“Yeah?”

“He’s practically my brother.”

She laughed. “Apparently not.”

I glared at her. She just smiled.

“That doesn’t help me!”

“Apparently it does!”

I grabbed the nearest cookie and threw it across the counter at her. She glared back and retaliated just as Kevin walked through the door. As he always did when he entered a room where Jackie was present, he demanded smooches from his wife. For the first time in weeks, I didn’t need to flee when they embraced. My phone buzzed – Stellan was calling.

My eyebrows shot up. Must be important, I thought.