Worth the Fall (25 page)

“
How do you feel?” he asked her.

“
Fine,” she answered. “We can get going whenever you’re ready.”

“
There’s no rush. We weren’t due to be home for a while.”

She nodded her head, as if agreeing with him, but then said,
“I want to go home.”

He pushed the covers off and got out of bed. Grabbing his duffle bag, he passed her on his way to the bathroom. He reached out to touch the top of her head, but she moved away from him.

She hated him. He saw it forming last night, could almost see the moment her mind shut him down as she’d drunk her shake.

He
’d held out hope that it was just the physical pain and the drugs, but it was still there this morning.

She definitely hated him.

And he couldn’t really blame her.

He dressed as quickly as he could, skipping a shower, though he would have dearly loved to wash away the past twenty-four hours.

He carried their bags to his truck. While he’d been waiting for her to be released from the hospital, he’d gone to a store, bought some cleaning solution, and scrubbed the ever-living shit out of his seat, banishing Alison’s blood.

He checked it now to make sure it was dry before Alison sat on it. Thankfully it was. He went back to the room to get her, and they left the motel. He went through the McDonald
’s drive-thru for breakfast, which he devoured and she picked at until Crystal Falls when she finally just put it back in the bag and set it on the floor by her feet.

They hadn
’t talked a ton yesterday on their way south, but compared to today they’d been downright chatty.

The only thing she said the entire two-hour drive was,
“Do you know what degree you need to be a psychologist?”

When he said he didn
’t, she kind of shook her head, in an “Of course you don’t, what was I thinking even asking you” kind of way.

Which made him feel even more like shit.

When he pulled up next to her car in the casino lot, she tried to grab her bag and jump out before he barely had the truck in park.

He took her bag from her grip, got out of his side and walked around to her side to help her out, but she was already to her car and putting the key in the lock.

“Just throw it in the back seat,” she said to him after getting the doors unlocked and opening hers.

He did, then moved to the driver
’s door and stood so she couldn’t close it on him, as she so clearly wanted to do.

“
You’ll call me if you don’t feel good, right?”

She wouldn
’t even look up at him, but nodded.

There was so much more he wanted to say, but he didn
’t know how to start. Finally he stepped away and she quickly shut the door, started up the car and drove away.

He didn
’t see her again for nearly a year.

If the only tool you have is a hammer, you tend to see every problem as a nail.

~ Abraham Maslow

After a very long shower, Petey finished toweling off in Alison’s room and rummaged through his duffle bag for a new pair of sweats.

It felt good to have some of his things here. He and Finn had left most of the stuff Lizzie had directed his cleaning lady to pack up right in the truck, only bringing in a few things for now.

It didn’t seem as though he was going to get an extended-stay invite from Al, so Petey had Finn bring in just the one large duffle that he took on the road with him and always had packed.

He sat on the bed and examined his knee. Just three tiny scars since they went in arthroscopically. It made healing that much easier, and he
’d always been a quick healer anyway. It was one of the reasons he’d made it this long in the league.

He tentatively bent the knee and was happy with the result.

“Petey,” he heard Alison call. “I’m back.”

“
In here,” he said loudly.

She had seemed to rush Finn and Lizzie out of here this morning, so he
’d had a glimmer of hope that maybe she wanted to talk. Or do other things for which they needed privacy.

But no. Shortly after their friends left with their little bundle of joy, Alison announced she was going to her mom
’s to help Sherry with the packing of her parents’ things and left him alone. He’d crawled back into bed and slept most of the day away—which, damn, felt really good.

And even though Alison hadn
’t told him when she’d be back, Petey had turned down his mom’s offer to come over with dinner, saying he was tired and needed to rest. (Because what mother is going to say no to that?)

“
I brought pizza from the Commodore if you’re—” The words died as Alison entered his room. Her room. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize you were…that you’d be….”

He was naked, yes, but his towel was draped over his lap as he sat on the side of the bed.

“You’ve seen me naked before. Recently, as I recall,” he said as he continued to bend his knee.

She didn
’t say anything to that, but she didn’t leave the room, either. Which was nice.

He gently rubbed his knee, and—okay, he wasn
’t proud of it—he winced as he did so, even though the pain was negligible at best.

“
Bad?” she asked, walking into the room.

“
Not too bad, no,” he said. “What’d you do today? Pack the whole time?”

She looked at the chair and he could tell she was measuring whether she should sit or not. Whether she should stay.

“Sherry say anything stupid today?”

She chuckled and crossed the room. Settling into the chair, she took the throw from its back and tossed it over her jeans-clad legs. It seemed to be a familiar motion to her and he suspected it was something she did most nights when she came home. And if he wasn
’t so content being here, he’d apologize to her for commandeering her happy place.

But he was content being in Alison
’s space, with her. And for more than just the hope of getting her back on, well, her back.

“
She wasn’t too bad,” Alison answered. He shifted on the bed, sitting back against the headboard, lifting his legs onto the mattress carefully—and obviously—keeping a hand on his bum knee.

She nodded her head to his leg.
“Are you sure it’s not too bad?”

“
Nah,” he said. “Nothing that standing at a table with you laid out in front of me wouldn’t cure. That’s my kind of therapy.”

She chuckled and threw one of the small pillows from her chair at him.

Ah, good, the playful Al was here tonight. You never really knew with her. He wouldn’t call her moody, just someone with many sides to her.

Sometimes it fascinated him. Sometimes it pissed him off. And most time he felt that trying to wander around her minefield of a mind was worth it.

He was feeling that way more and more, and it kind of scared the shit out of him. The thought of a physical future with Al greatly appealed to him. A future of constantly wondering which Al was going to come home? Not so much.

But this Al? The one who took his jokes as intended and volleyed back? Yeah, she was the one for him.

Especially if she’d take off those damn clothes.

She told him about her day and he told her about his, summed up with two words—marathon nap.

“Hey,” he said when there was a comfortable silence. “Why were you giving Finn and Lizzie the bum’s rush this morning?”

To her credit, she didn
’t deny her actions. She stared out the window for a long time, watching the snow fall. He knew she was gauging how honest to be. But with him, or herself?

Finally she turned to him and said,
“It was seeing you holding Sam. It was very hard for me.”

A niggling thought at the back of his mind told him he shouldn
’t be surprised—but he kind of was. “Oh.” There wasn’t much he could say beyond that. “I’m sorry,” he added.

He didn
’t think he’d said those words to her since she’d hustled out of his truck in the casino parking lot all those years ago. He’d said them so many times before and during their ill-fated trip and had gotten nothing back from her. So he’d stopped.

She looked at him for a long time.
“I know,” she whispered. “I know you’re sorry. I
knew
you were sorry.”

Jesus. Were they finally going to talk about this? Eighteen years of trying to break down her walls and she was ready to try when he was draped in a fucking towel?

He sat very still, willing her to go on. Not wanting to scare her off, he stayed on the bed when he would’ve loved to be closer to her. Even just to hold her hand.

“
Do you ever think about it? I mean, not about what happened, but what if I hadn’t….”

He waited, but she didn
’t finish the sentence. She didn’t need to. “Yes,” he said. “I did a lot more the first few years. Sometimes with a sigh of relief, you know?”

He held his breath, figuring maybe she
’d think him a callous bastard—not that she’d be wrong.

“
Me too,” she said, letting out a sigh, as if trying to expel eighteen years of heaviness. “Especially that first year at State. All I could think of was I could have missed it all. I would have been at home with my parents instead of in the dorms with Kat and Lizard.

“
And then I’d feel like crap for being so happy. But I was.” She looked away, back out the window. “I was really happy there. Except for the times when I’d think about it. So I started thinking about it less and less.”

“
Self-preservation. Nothing wrong with that.”

“
No, I suppose not. It doesn’t matter now anyway.” She half raised a hand in a wave of dismissal, but it was a crappy effort.

“
It
does
matter. It always mattered,” he said.

She didn
’t look him, but she did nod her head—not too noticeably, but it was there.

“
And then,” she continued, “when other friends of ours started having babies in their late twenties, it all came back to me.”

“
Of course it did,” he said softly, not wanting her to stop but wanting her to know he understood. And he did—understand. Oh, he hadn’t had the depth of regret she surely had through the years, but there were times when it would sneak up on him and he’d wonder about the what-if of it all.

“
I got lucky in that Katie couldn’t get pregnant and Lizzie was never much interested in kids. So I didn’t have babies in my life all that much. Although I know Katie didn’t feel so lucky during those years.”

“
No, she didn’t.”

“
That was hard. Listening to her cry and cry because she couldn’t have a child, and I had.…”

“
But you didn’t, Al. You didn’t.”

“
And, God, that’s been its own kind of torture, you know?”

Oh yeah, he knew. He
’d played that game a thousand times—would he have stopped her? “Yeah. I had a lot of the same thoughts. Some parallel-universe shit goes through my mind at weird times. That fall you were at State and thinking about how you’d have been at home?” She nodded. “I had the same flashes that first year at Tech. I’d drive by the married housing area on campus and think about how easily I could have been living there with you. How you’d take classes that first semester while you were still able to.

“
When we’d party after a hockey game, I’d think about how I would have skipped it and gone home to be with you and the baby. And then I’d—” He stopped at her expression which had changed from melancholy to confusion. “What?”

She was shaking her head.
“What do you mean married housing? And that you’d come home to us after games?”

He shifted on the bed. Feeling the need for protection, he pulled the sheet up, over the towel.
“If you’d kept the baby. We would have gotten married.”

“
When did you decide that?”

He sat up straighter. No time to be a pussy.
“About ten seconds after you told me you were pregnant.”

Her shoulders slumped, and she leaned back further into the oversized chair.
“Why didn’t you say something? Anything?”

“
Because. About
fifteen
seconds after you told me you were pregnant you told me what you’d already decided.”

She wrapped herself in the blanket—apparently he wasn
’t the only one who needed the protection provided by linens—and stared out the window. “I never really asked you what you wanted to do, did I?”

“
No,” he said, maybe a little too quickly. But it had to be said. If only he’d had the maturity at nineteen to say it then.