How We Fall Read online

  I remember Cole’s last night in town like it was yesterday. It was warm outside, but the nights were still pretty cold. He was walking home from a graduation party a couple streets over and had clearly been drinking.

  He spotted me sitting out on the front porch and skipped across my yard like he used to when we were kids.

  “Melanie Anderson,” he breathed, giving me his best dimple-filled smile.

  “Cole.” I tried to sound indifferent, but inside my heart was pounding out of my chest.

  After all the time apart, his effect on me hadn’t lessened. If anything it had grown substantially over the years. I loved him more than ever, and I knew that was probably my last night to tell him.

  “Why is a pretty girl like you sitting out here all alone when you should be out celebrating?” He threw his hands up in the air and chanted, very cutely, “Party! Party!”

  I couldn’t deny the way my chest tightened hearing him call me pretty, but the moment was overshadowed by my need to quiet him down.

  “Shhh. Mom’s sleeping,” I shushed him, unable to hold back my laughter.

  “Still not doing well, huh?” He fell serious.

  “The doctors don’t think she has too long.”

  “Fuck, I’m sorry, Mel.” First time I had heard him use the ‘F’ word, too.

  “Nothing I can do about it now.” I shrugged, trying not to bring him down.

  “Walk me home,” he said abruptly, hopping over the railing of the porch before extending his hand to me.

  “You live across the street.” I couldn’t help but look at him like he’d grown five heads.

  “I know. Walk me home anyway,” he said again.

  “Fine.” I allowed him to take my hand and pull me up, ignoring the zing that ran all the way up my arm. “If it will shut you up, I’ll walk you home.” I nudged him in the ribs with my elbow.

  “There she is,” Cole said, dropping an arm over my shoulders as he tucked me into his side. “I’ve missed you, ya know,” he continued as we walked across the street.

  “Seems like you got by.” I was staring at my feet, afraid if I gave into the feeling of my body tucked into his that I might do something stupid—like I don’t know—kiss him.

  “Some things are not always as they appear on the outside.”

  “Look at you getting all deep on me.” I joked because I didn’t know what else to do. The moment was getting too heavy. I could feel it settling over me.

  We stopped a couple feet from his front porch, but he made no attempt to move. I could feel him looking down at me, but I didn’t have the courage to look up.

  “Mel.”

  “Hmm.” I swore my heart was going to explode.

  “Look at me, Melanie.”

  Those words had me turning my face upward, every nerve in my body singing with anticipation.

  And that’s when it happened.

  He leaned down and kissed me. It wasn’t a big kiss, no tongue or anything, and yet it felt like the most intimate kiss of my life. The way his lips had brushed against mine took my breath away.

  And then it was over as quickly as it started. He didn’t meet my gaze. He just dropped his arm and took off, stopping just inside his front door.

  “Good luck with everything, Mel.” He smiled at me like he hadn’t just delivered a kiss that was life altering.

  “Yeah, you, too.”

  Then he was gone.

  That was the second time Cole Lincoln kissed me.

  The first one didn’t feel anything like this one. It was just two friends wanting to see what all the hype was about. And even though I’ve always held that memory close to my heart, nothing could have prepared me for what I would feel when his lips touched mine for the second time.

  But clearly whatever I felt that night, or he felt, for that matter, wasn’t enough to make him stay.

  I watched him pack up his Mustang the next day. I didn’t have the courage to go down, so I just watched from my bedroom window as he stuffed boxes and bags in the trunk and backseat. I watched as he hugged his mom and shook his stepdad’s hand. And then I watched him drive away.

  He took a piece of me with him that day. A piece of my heart I’ve accepted that I’ll never get back.

  Present day

  “Hey, babe.” Nate looks up from the kitchen table when I come in through the back door.

  “Hey.” I stop, dropping a kiss to the top of his head before crossing toward the counter and dropping the grocery bags in my hands.

  “Is there more in the car?” Nate asks, not glancing up from his laptop. “Give me two minutes to finish this, and I will grab them.” He doesn’t wait for me to give an answer before adding.

  “No, this is it.” I sigh, pressing my back against the counter.

  This gets his attention, and he looks up at me, the reality of what I’m dealing with catching up to him. He’s been so busy at work, given the time of year, and I almost feel bad for needing him right now, but I do.

  “Fuck, babe. I’m sorry.” He’s up and crossing the kitchen toward me before I can get another word out. “How are you holding up?” He pulls me into his arms, the one place that makes me feel just a little better.

  “I have to go help Joan sort through photos today.” I let out a slow breath. “My stomach is in all kinds of knots over it. It still just doesn’t seem real.”

  “It usually doesn’t.” He pulls back, his blue eyes locking with mine. “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No, that’s okay. I think she wants it to be just me and her. Besides, it’s not fair of me to ask you to spend your entire afternoon and evening sorting through pictures of someone you’ve met only once.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine.”

  “Okay.” I hate how easy he resigns.

  Truth be told, I could really use a shoulder right now, but I don’t want him to feel obligated or forced into something he doesn’t actually want to do.

  “You’re sweet to offer, but I think this is something I should do on my own.”

  “Well if you change your mind, you know where to find me. I’m not going back into the city until Thursday.”

  I push up on my tip toes and press my lips to his clean shaven jaw. “Thank you. Now get back to work. I didn’t mean to pull you away. I know you’re on a tight deadline.”

  “I really am.” He sighs, running a hand through his normally perfectly styled blond hair. Today it’s standing every which way which means he’s stressed. I immediately feel bad for being so selfish.

  But is it selfish? To need someone when you’re in pain?

  “I just have to get these stats in and then I promise, tomorrow I’m all yours.” He tips my chin slightly, placing a quick kiss on my lips before reclaiming his seat at the end of the kitchen table.

  Nate works for a major news station in downtown Cleveland. He’s responsible for collecting all the stats and highlights for sports. Right now his primary focus is football, which is always one of his busiest times of the year. Since a lot of his job is remote, he stays with me most of the time. And though he’s here over fifty percent of the time, he does still have an apartment in the city.

  I try to occupy myself with putting away the groceries and straightening up the large eat-in kitchen, doing my best not to disturb Nate who honestly seems a million miles away. I’m stalling, I know I am, but I’m just not ready to face what I’ve lost.

  Michael has been one of my closest friends since we were in second grade. He was with me through it all and was the only person I stayed in touch with over the last six years. He joined the Marines right out of high school, following in the footsteps of his late father. He was a proud soldier and loved fighting for his country. I always envied his courage, even when we were kids.

  The day I found out he was killed in an accident overseas was probably one of the lowest days of my life. In our almost two year relationship, Nate had never seen me like that.

  That day
has played on repeat in my mind since the day it happened. His mom had come into Five Mile Grill, the only restaurant in town, the day she got the news. I was at the bar with a drink already in my hand when she slid onto the stool next to me. The news she delivered gutted me right on the spot, and the thing I think I hated the most—he was the first person who crossed my mind. Cole.

  I’ve kept myself busy, trying not to think about him too much. It seems unfair to Nate, who has never been anything but good to me to have to share my attention with an old memory because at the end of the day that’s all he really is anymore, a memory.

  Deciding I can’t stall any longer, I grab my jacket from the hook next to the door and slide it on.

  “You heading over, babe?” Nate seems to snap out of his fog long enough to realize I’m leaving.

  “Yeah, I should probably get this over with.”

  “Call me if you need me.” He leans his head back to allow me to lay a brief kiss to his mouth.

  “I will.” I pull back, crossing to the back door. “Love you.”

  “Love you,” he says, not turning around to face me.

  I let out a deep breath and push the door open, exiting the house without another word.

  I’ve been helping Joan plan Michael’s services. She put me in charge of contacting all of Michael’s old friends, and while I was able to reach a majority of them I couldn’t track down Cole. I was able to get in touch with Dawn via her mom who still lives in town. She should be arriving later tonight. But since Cole’s parents moved away shortly after he left for college and he seems to avoid all things social media—not that I’ve looked for him over the years or anything—it’s hard to say if he even knows that it happened. Honestly I think I was more relieved than disappointed when I came up empty handed.

  I thought maybe he would just come home when the news broke about Michael a week and a half ago. It was all over the news for the first couple days after it happened. But since it’s taken a while to get his body home the services aren’t for another couple of days.

  It feels so weird thinking that the boy who could make me laugh with nothing more than a look is no longer part of this world. While Cole, Dawn, and I had drifted apart, Michael and I were still close. It’s been about eight months since I last spoke to him. When he was away, he didn’t get to communicate as much. Those calls were reserved for his mother and now ex-girlfriend.

  I push my way into Michael’s childhood home without even knocking. I’ve been here more times than I could ever count, and I don’t ever remember knocking. That’s the kind of friendship we had. We were family.

  It doesn’t take me long to locate Joan. She’s in Michael’s childhood bedroom sitting on his old bed, her back to me.

  “You doing okay, Joan?” I stop in the doorway.

  “I can’t believe he’s gone.” I hear her sniffle. “I remember the day I brought him home from the hospital, he was my miracle baby. They said we’d never have kids, and then there he was, so perfect.” She continues to speak but makes no attempt to turn around and look at me. “And then when Michael Sr. died, I knew I had to keep it together for my son. I couldn’t fall apart. After all, I had a part of my husband right in front of me, and lord was he a spitting image of the man I loved so deeply. And now I’ve lost them both.” I watch her back shake as she sobs out loud. I take a step toward her, desperate to comfort her, but she holds her hand up to stop me when she hears me approaching.

  Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she wipes the tears from her face and turns to face me. My heart breaks for her all over again. I fight back my tears, trying to be strong for a woman who was like a mom to me after my mother died five years ago.

  “You were such a good friend to him, Melanie. He loved you so much. I hope you know that.” She clears her throat and then stands, sliding her hands down the seam of her blue-gray skirt.

  Even in the face of her son’s death, she still puts herself together every day—nice clothes, her almost all gray hair tied back in a tight bun. I think it’s her way of convincing herself that everything is okay even when it isn’t. I know what it felt like to lose my mother, and we were never really close leading up to her death. I can’t imagine losing a child who was your world.

  I hold my breath to keep in the emotion that threatens to spill over.

  “I loved him, too.” The instant I speak the words, two tears manage to escape my eyes despite my effort to keep them in.

  She crosses the space, cupping my cheek in her hand when she reaches me. A long moment passes where we just stare at each other, sharing the grief we both feel.

  “Thank you for coming to help today.” She sounds more composed now.

  “Of course.” I give her a weak smile.

  “I’ve got all the photo albums laying on the kitchen table. If you could just pick out a few of your favorites, then I can take it from there.”

  “I’m on it.” I spin on my heel and head straight down the narrow hallway to the back of the house where the kitchen sits. It isn’t much and quite small, but to me it feels like home.

  Joan wasn’t lying about the photo albums; there have to be at least thirty to forty books, all ranging in size, stacked on the oval-shaped table in front of me.

  Taking a deep breath, I pull out a chair and take a seat, grabbing the album that sits the closest to me. As soon as I open it I want to close it. Pictures of me, Michael, Dawn and Cole litter each page. At first, I try to avoid looking at him, but reminding myself why I’m doing this makes it a little easier to just face it.

  I won’t deny the thrill that runs through me as soon as I focus in on his face. Those dark eyes, messy hair, and deep dimples are just as intoxicating as I remember. In this specific picture we couldn’t have been older than twelve. We were behind Michael’s house playing in the creek. Dawn is standing at the edge of the creek bed, looking down in disgust while the rest of us are sitting right in the water—clothes and all—laughing. I think that about sums up our friendship with Dawn; she was always the princess.

  Next is a picture of Cole and me. It was that same summer. He’s holding me in his arms like a baby as he prepares to drop me off the dock into the pond, Michael in the background with a wide smile on his face. God, I miss them. I miss this.

  I’ve gotten through about half the albums when Joan enters the kitchen a couple hours later. I don’t ask where she’s been. Based on her face, it looks like she’s been locked in her bedroom crying.

  “How’s it going?” she asks, her eyes puffy and swollen.

  “I’ve got about twenty good ones picked out. Ones that I think best represent Michael at his core, the love he had for his friends.”

  There will be two photo boards set up at his wake. Joan is doing the family board, and I’m doing the friends board. I thought it would tear me up to look through all these old pictures, and in a way it did, but it also has made me realize what an amazing childhood I had and what amazing friends I had.

  “I think that will work just fine, honey. Why don’t you let me take it from here?” she asks, pouring herself a glass of water before taking the seat next to me.

  “Are you sure?” I object. “I really don’t have anything I have to get back to right away.”

  “I’m sure. I need a little time to gather pictures of him and his father. I think it’s something I’d like to do alone.” She gives me a forced smile, looking like she’s aged ten years in the past few days.

  I want to object, fearful to leave her, but I also don’t want to push her too hard in her fragile state.

  “You’ll call me if you need anything?” I ask.

  “I will.”

  “I’ll stop by tomorrow and check in.”

  “Okay.”

  She walks with me to the door, holding it open for me as I slide my jacket on. I give her a quick one-armed hug as I exit, feeling a little lost when the door closes behind me.

  Snuggling into my jacket, a deep chill runs through me that has nothin
g to do with the weather. It’s not too cold yet, just on the edge of fall, but I know it will be soon. I can sense it in the air.

  The town is pretty quiet as I make the five minute walk to my house. I pass my childhood home on the way, a house I put up for sale shortly after my mom died. I couldn’t live there once she passed. It held too many memories of her being sick, hospice nurses coming in and out, and my two younger brothers and me surrounding her bed as she took her final breaths.

  I take a long look at the ratty old house that held so many memories, good and bad. I look up to my old bedroom window, the light offering a slow glow in the shadow of the setting sun. I’m accosted by memories of Cole—watching him pack for college, saying goodbye through a glass window pane. I wish I had handled things differently between us. Hell, I wish a lot of things.

  After Mom died, I took her life insurance and bought a small three-bedroom ranch on the edge of town. It gave me the opportunity to give my brothers a fresh start while keeping them close to their friends.

  They’re all grown and have their own lives now. Matt, after several failed relationships, finally settled down in Utah with his wife, Christy. I haven’t seen him since Mom’s funeral, but he calls every now and then. David went into construction and lives about an hour north of here with his longtime girlfriend, Liz. They come down for dinner once every couple of months. And just like when we were kids, John is still the wild child, jumping from place to place, never staying anywhere for too long.

  And even though I did everything I promised my mom I would do, I’m still here. Stuck in the place where it all began. I considered leaving after everyone was gone and even though there really isn’t much left here for me, I just can’t seem to bring myself to do it.

  “Mel.”

  I’m pulled from thoughts when I hear her voice behind me. I knew she was coming, but now I’m suddenly terrified to face her—the girl I secretly hated for four years for taking what I didn’t have the courage to fight for.

  I turn, surprised to find Dawn quickly jogging toward me.