Catch My Fall (23 page)

Meghan gave me another once over. “You look spectacular, lady.”

I was almost startled by the compliment. My expression must have betrayed this because Meghan planted her hands on her curvaceous hips. “You have a problem with that?”

“No? Just never really thought of Cyndi Lauper as spectacular.”

“Well, whether she was or not, you look fucking fantastic. Seriously, your tits look amazing in that top.”

I glanced down self-consciously. The top she spoke of was a collection of lingerie, tank tops, and brassieres, and she was right, there was some serious chest chasm going on. If anyone lost their keys tonight, I knew where to look.

“Is he coming?”

She was talking about Stellan. “I think so? We were supposed to go together, but as you know -”

It was the second shortest drive to a friend’s house I’d ever known – the first being Stellan’s.

Evan’s road was certainly the hardest to climb to, being on the most prestigious hill in downtown. Nashawtuc was one of those roads you brought family members to when they were in town to ogle how the other half live. The houses were each grander than the next, their driveways leading to multiple car garages and million dollar views of the often flooded fields below. Meghan and I decided not to arrive too early, given her love of fashionable arrival. I was more concerned about arriving without Stellan, my buffer. I wasn’t entirely weened into the world yet, and the thought of being alone in the house with past peers, or worse, Evan…

I wasn’t sure why that thought bothered me.

I checked my phone again. Still no word from Stellan.

Concerned, slightly whiny Me -
Are you alive? Where are you?

I was beginning to worry. The worst possible outcome here would be for him to not to come at all.

We drove by the mansions, their lit windows looked like the glowing eyes of prosperity on an otherwise dark hillside. Every once in a while, I would catch a glimpse of someone inside, of some pampered child sitting at an Ethan Allen dining room table, his note papers and text books sprawled out before him, or a woman reading on some leather couch. It was almost surreal to see the children of the filthy rich sitting to such mundane tasks as homework or reading. Still, I’d once known one of those kids. Despite the luxurious façade of his life, I knew better. Sometimes inside these houses, there’s very little comfort to be had.

The cul-de-sac known as Willith Common was already filled with parked cars on either side of the road. The party was set to begin at eight, and we were pulling in the around nine. Meghan chattered away. I’d been drowning her out with my thoughts when she suddenly mentioned Evan.

“Now you’re going to introduce me, right?”

I shrugged. “Sure, if you want.”

“Of course I want. And if you feel like dropping the info that I give phenomenal blow jobs -”

I smiled. “We both know you hate giving -”

“Shut up. I was mostly kidding anyway.”

I smirked. “Only mostly though.”

“Exactly.”

We parked a dozen or so car lengths away from the house, walking down the road to the house. It was a mountain of white walls and brick, three garage doors, two of them housing a car worth more than my mother’s house (I knew this from my youth, not from a sudden case of X-ray vision, mind you). Meghan was practically shrill as she regaled me with awe. I accused her of wanting to make out with the landscaping, and she quieted down.

There were small lanterns lining the brick path to the side of the house. I knew exactly which entrance we were being led to. Evan’s father had built a large sun room onto the back of the house years ago – a monstrous glass room with granite tile floor and leather furniture where he could smoke cigars and remove himself from the family that resided within. Sadly, his intentions to utilize the space were quickly forgotten. When Evan was a teenager, he’d taken over the room, leaving the back door open to friends at all hours of the night.

When Meghan and I rounded the side of the house, the backyard was alight with hundreds of lanterns hanging from trees and lampposts. The sun room door was, as always, wide open. Meghan gasped at the wonderland of his lamp lit backyard that stretched a hundred yards down the slope of the hill. I was too busy scanning the figures through the glass walls of the sun room. I didn’t immediately recognize anyone.

I took a deep breath.

The familiar smell of the house was soft beneath the smell of beer and lemon wedges. Still, as I entered the living room, the smell of eucalyptus, something Evan’s mother always kept hanging in sconces on the walls, hit me. I felt strangely nostalgic. Again, it was short lived.

“Hey, who are you?”

A tall tawny haired fellow asked over the sound of The Pixies playing through the nearby stereo speakers. His eyes passed over my chest before settling on Meghan’s. Though mine might be well displayed, Meghan’s was fucking mighty. She smiled wide and introduced us. I didn’t return the interest. There were two faces I was searching for – Stellan, and with some trepidation, Evan. The tall fellow offered us his name – Will – and beers. I accepted the plastic cup politely, despite having no intention of drinking it. I was almost startled by the frat party feel of the plastic cup in my hand. I wondered if I might find a rousing game of beer pong if I were to search further into the house. I didn’t dare do so without company and by that time, Meghan was fully ensconced in her conversation with Will – how did he know Evan, how charming his costume was; a T-shirt with the word
Costume
written across the chest. I rolled my eyes and took a sip of the beer in my hand. It was sharp and bitter to me, unpalatable, but still it was all I had.

The black leather couches of the living room were as I remembered them, though I was sure they’d been replaced with newer versions. The stone slab fireplace seemed smaller now, a sign of either my having grown, or it simply being surrounded by Lady Gagas and Darth Vadars. Every car parked outside must’ve carried its maximum capacity. I scanned the werewolves and zombies, the blood covered doctor, his candy striping side kick. I didn’t recognize anyone – no old high school friends to hide from. I took my leave of Meghan with the desire for an easier drink. I knew my way around the house.

I wandered into the kitchen to the stainless steel double refrigerator, raising an eyebrow at the array of women dressed in various levels of scanty. Evan’s single status was well known. I felt almost ashamed at the presence of my own cleavage.

I loved Evan, to clarify, but we lost touch when my life became marketing and he left for the west. Stellan kept in touch, but I think some part of me assumed Evan and I wouldn’t have anything in common anymore. Describing my life would sound the same now as it did in my senior year of high school. I can’t imagine that would be of interest to a man who spends his time with Victoria’s Secret models on his own island.

I hauled the heavy fridge door open and stared into the recesses of the beast - lines of soda cans, bottled water, condiments, and booze; just as I remembered. I grabbed a water and took a long breathless drink. When I closed the door to the refrigerator, the devil was standing beside me.

“Hey sweet thang.”

I nearly dropped the water on the floor. The devil’s red suit was tailored perfectly to his slight frame, the small prosthetic horns peeking out from under the dark hair of his still strong hair line. I hacked as quietly as I could, the remnants of aspirated water still tickling my throat. Evan caressed my back the way a parent would to a coughing child, and I desperately tried to catch my breath. When I was finally able to meet his gaze, my eyes were running mascara down my cheeks, and he was beaming at me.

“Dick,” I said.

He just smiled wider. “Glad you could make it,
Cyndi
.”

Evan held his arms open before me. I faltered only a second and accepted the embrace. It felt warm.

“Hey there, Ev,” I said over his shoulder. The hug lasted a while, both of us clasping our wrists behind the other and breathing deeply. He rubbed my back again, and hummed softly before kissing my cheek a couple times as he released me. I could feel female eyes on us with varying degrees of curiosity and outright rage. The Holy Grail seemed to like me. This fact did not bode well with the scantily clad masses, especially when he informed me that my tits looked spectacular.

God, he always did have class.

Evan stood just a little taller than me when we were younger. Now he seemed to have added an inch or so. Still, he was the slight, wily creature I remembered.

He glanced to the plastic cup on the counter beside me before scoffing openly. “What are you drinking?”

“Well, I was trying to drink water, but -”

He grabbed my hand and led me out of the kitchen. We made our way through the living room and the den as people did whatever they could to grab Evan’s attention. I felt out of place, not only dressed as I was, but at Evan’s side. Seemingly oblivious, he dragged me to the far corner of the house where I found myself across a bar counter from a man in a black vest and white button down shirt. I’d seen another before that moment, but had simply assumed he was in some costume too hip for m
e to recognize. Instead, I realized he was working the party in a far more direct manner than the rest of the people there.

“Order something,” Evan said.

“No, I’m alright.”

“Faye, have a drink. You’re tense as fuck.”

How right he was. I shook my head. “What would my sponsor say?”

Evan laughed. “He’d say nobody likes a quitter!”

I snorted, softly. “You’re so sensitive.”

I’d just ordered my Rum and Coke when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Bitch. You left me with that snaggle-toothed schmuck on purpose.”

I turned to find Meghan offering her hand to Evan with the brightest, most catalog model worthy smile I’d ever seen on her beautiful face. Evan smiled back, glancing at me. I introduced them by name rather than blow job preference. The bartender handed me my drink, and I leaned onto the counter to create space between myself and the rest of the party goers. Despite the cathedral ceilings of the main den, the room still felt small with that many people in it. I attempted to scan the faces, leaving Meghan to her conquest without being too blatantly accommodating. After recognizing three people from my high school, I turned back to the bar. I wasn’t particularly interested in shooting the shit with complete strangers who might want to pretend we have something to talk about because we went to the same high school. Before I knew I’d even put a dent in my drink, it was gone and the bartender was handing me a new glass.

“Whoa there, Alki,” Evan said as he leaned onto the bar beside me and ordered himself two fingers of Black Label. I turned to find Meghan gone.

Evan offered without my asking. “She headed to the bathroom. She seems nice, yeah?”

“Yes, she is.”

“Well, who here doesn’t?”

I met his gaze and tried to smile. He wrapped an arm around me and squeezed before being called off by some woman in a Black Widow leather catsuit. When Meghan returned, she offered blatant disdain for my letting him leave.

“He’s around. If you like you can tranquilize him and tag him before we leave tonight.”

She shook her head. “Worst wing man ever.”

“I’m not your wing man.”

“Apparently not!”

I sipped idly at my drink, feeling warm and large as I listened to Meghan’s account of the fireworks she felt between herself and Evan. It was true love, she assured me. She applied a fresh layer of lip gloss.

I was smiling. During her monologue, I’d managed to order myself another drink. Then another.

And we had lift off.

I turned around, leaning my elbows onto the bar behind me and actively watching the crowd. Meghan turned with me, muttering with disgust at the social organism that lay before us. Pockets of conversation would burst at Evan’s passing by. Small crowds would congregate around people who’d done so little as recently spoken to the man. It was so strange to see him in this familiar space, but in such a foreign position. It was as though he was some rare and endangered zoo animal, and at any moment he might give birth to the first of his kind in captivity. I began actively lip reading and watching. Women finding reason to relocate, men declaring close personal connection to the host – it was like a school of fish that swims along under the fins of a shark, eating his leftovers, cleaning his gills. I began to contemplate what form of sea creature I would be in this scenario – a barnacle on a rock somewhere perhaps, or a sea urchin, or fire algae; something idly cantankerous.

A figure caught my eye well above the heads of the crowd as he appeared in the kitchen doorway. The man was in a green flight suit, short shorn blonde crew cut and broad shoulders. He had on a pair of Ray Bans that reflected the room around him and perfectly trimmed seventies ‘stache. I finally understood the time honored tradition of women moistening at the sight of a man in uniform. He seemed oblivious to the collective focus on Evan, searching for something of his own design.

He stepped into the room as Meghan shifted beside me, murmuring intent for us to relocate to another room in hopes that Evan might be hunted down. The man in camouflage met my gaze and before I could dodge him, he beamed at me. My heart shot into the back of my throat.

Stellan plowed past the masses toward me, stopping for a moment as a man pointed at him and recognizing Stellan’s costume as a character from Top Gun, cried, “Pull up, Goose!”

The drunk man in a ketchup bottle costume demanded a high five and a chest bump before he released Stellan to his slow path across the room. When Stellan reached me, my mouth had gone dry.

“You look fucking great, woman,” he said, smiling as I stood there like a slack jawed yokel, staring up at him.

“Holy shit, Ødegård. Not fucking bad,” Meghan said. “I even like the stache! You look like a porn star.”

Stellan gave an eyebrow wiggle. “How kind of you to notice.”

I wanted to say something similar or perhaps something belligerent to her for commenting on the object of my unknown affection - anything really, but instead I just stood there staring.