E. Blair - Falling

“Yay! Can we go trick-or-treating now, Mommy?” Connor asks with way too much energy, and I have no clue how Tori and Trevor are gonna get through Halloween without the aid of alcohol.

“Yes, we can go. Say bye to your uncle.”

“Bye, Uncle Ryan,” he shouts before running off.

“Say bye-bye,” Tori tells Bailey.

Waving her hand again, she says, “Bye-bye.”

“Bye, sweetie,” I tell her.

“We gotta go before Connor drives me crazy,” I hear Trevor, Tori’s husband, say as he walks up.

“Okay,” she responds.

“Hey, Ryan. What’s up?” Trevor says into the phone.

“Not much. Looks like you have your hands full.”

“You have no idea. Get your ass here and help us out,” he jokes.

“Soon, man. You guys have fun tonight.”

“Same to you. Bye.”

“Bye,” Tori adds.

“Take it easy, guys,” I say before disconnecting the call.

I take the next half hour to call my other two cousins and check in with their kids. Envy starts to move slowly inside of me, and before I let the feeling take over, I go upstairs to my room, blast some music, and hop in the shower. It’s gonna be a busy night at work, and I don’t need to be in a funk. I love my family, but the idea of having my own worries me. What I grew up with was far from perfect. I’ve never had to take care of anyone other than myself, aside from my mom. But she’s a strong woman, always has been. I don’t really know what it means to provide for someone else emotionally. Even if I did, I doubt I would be capable of it. I live a selfish life. I only take care of myself, and at times, I feel like I do a shitty job of it.

After my shower, I grab a bite to eat and watch a little TV. I find myself focusing on the rain outside rather than the show that’s playing. It’s pouring as I stare out the solid wall of windows. I’ve always loved the weather here, never getting tired of the constant rain.

My phone rings, and when I look at the screen, I see Max’s name.

“What’s up?” I say when I answer.

“When are you getting here?”

“What time is it?”

“Almost ten. We’re already at capacity, and I feel like shit,” he complains.

“I’m leaving now,” I tell him as I drag myself off the couch and start heading out.

I walk out to my black Rubicon and decide to grab a coffee before I go to the bar. It’s gonna be a late night, and Mel sucks at making coffee. I drive around the corner and spot a coffee shop right off campus. Not that hard to do since there are coffee shops on every street corner.

Throwing the car in park, I step out into the heavy rain. I keep my head down as I walk to the door, getting soaked. When I go inside, my phone buzzes with a text from Jase. He’s asking when I’m heading in, and I’m distracted when I walk up to the counter.

I briefly notice a girl sitting on a stool behind the register, reading a textbook, studying. She sees me and hops up as I turn my attention to the drink menu on the wall.

“Hey, what can I get for you?” she asks softly.

Still looking at the drinks, I settle on my usual. “Uh, just a twenty coffee. Black,” I tell her when I start typing my text back to Jase.

“Easy enough.”

On my way now. Give me 15min. Busy?

Insane.

“That’s one ninety-three,” she says as I shove my cell into my pocket.

Pulling out my wallet, I hand over a five. Finally, not distracted, I look at her. I think I know this girl ‘cause something about her seems familiar. I stare, trying to pinpoint who she is, but she’s so different from any girl I would ever go for, so I’m just confused. She has a small frame, can’t be much taller than five feet. Her hair is a deep brown like mine, and it’s pulled up, messy, on top of her head.

“Everything okay?” she asks, catching me staring, as she hands me my change. This girl has me so caught off guard that I don’t even realize I haven’t responded when she questions, “Anything else?”

The small features of her face, aside from her large hazel eyes, seem more delicate with her fair, almost porcelain-like skin. Not my usual type, but God she’s pretty.

“Um, no. No, that’s all,” I say like an idiot, and I can tell I’m freaking her out when she nervously takes a step back and stumbles into her stool.

I turn to leave before I say anything else that makes me look any more like a moron, but dammit if I can’t help turning to look at her a couple more times before I leave. As soon as I step out in the rain, it hits me.

“God, please! Stop!”

Snapping my head back to get another look at her through the rain-covered window, I feel my heart begin to pound. Her back is to me, so I can’t see her face. No. It can’t possibly be her. What are the chances? There’s no way. Fuck, my head is really playing with me tonight. I get into my jeep and start driving. My mind is consumed with crazy thoughts that I need to dispel because none of them make sense to me.

She’s tiny . . . just like the girl from that night. But her face . . . there’s no way I could even make a comparison because that girl’s face was so badly beaten and covered in blood. There’s no way to know what she really looked like.

All I can think about is that night in the very alley I just pulled into and parked. I get out of my car and walk over to the dumpster, to the spot I found her. I rack my brain, but there are no real details I have to link these two girls.

The images flood through me. My stomach knots up, and I feel sick. That was a fucked up night that I wish I never had to witness. I wish I could forget. I wish my head would stop messing with me. Give it up, man. Let it go. Just forget about it.

When I head inside, I go straight to my office. Sitting down at my desk, I pick up my desk phone and call downstairs to the bar.

“Blur,” I hear Mel answer.

“Mel, it’s Ryan. I just got here. Can you send Max up to my office?”

“Sure thing.”

Hanging up, I sit there, anxious for some reason, but need to talk, and Max is the only one who knows about that night.

“Hey, boss.”

I look up at Max as he walks in, and when he sees me sitting there, soaking wet, he questions, “You okay?”

“Do you think it’s possible . . . to connect two strangers . . . I mean . . .” I trail off, not able to get my thoughts together to form a coherent sentence.

He takes a seat and says, “What are you talking about?”

I breathe in a deep breath and let it out slowly when I tell him, “I went to grab a coffee before coming here, and the girl working there . . . well, when I saw her, my mind went straight to the girl from the alley. The girl who was attacked here a few months ago.”

“You think it’s the same person?”

Raking my hand through my wet hair, I fist a lock of it in frustration before saying, “I don’t know. I mean, I guess for a second I did, but really, the chances would be next to nothing, right?”

He doesn’t respond. I know I must sound crazy, but I continue anyway, “It’s probably not. That girl was unrecognizable. I don’t even know why my mind even took me there.”

“I think it makes sense.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. After it happened, it really bothered you that you didn’t ever know what happened to her. If she was even okay. So it makes sense that your mind would still need closure and that it would come out at random times trying to make that connection.” He takes a moment in thought, and then adds, “I dunno. Just my thought.”

“No, you’re right. I’m probably subconsciously trying to put an end to that situation. But that’s not gonna happen. I just need to let it go.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re gonna do nothing but drive yourself crazy,” he says.

“That chick probably thought I was crazy. I couldn’t stop staring at her, like some sick perv or something,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

“She wouldn’t be too off base,” he throws back at me, and I laugh with him. “I gotta get back to the door. You gonna come down soon? Jase is here with Zane.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna try and dry off, and I’ll be down.”

He turns back before walking out of my office and says, “That girl, whoever she is, I’m sure she’s okay. It’s been almost three months since it happened.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right,” I reluctantly agree.

“Like you said, just let it go.”

I couldn’t let it go like Max told me, like I told myself even. I went back to Common Grounds a few days later. Back to the coffee shop and she was there. I just had to see her again. Had to get the confirmation that there wasn’t a connection. The only similarity I could see was that the two girls are petite. That’s all. No other connection. So now . . . now I let it go.

Before I hit the gym today, I need to stop by the bar to pick up a few files that I have to drop off to my accountant. It’s early in the morning, so when I get there, I’m surprised to see Mel’s car in the back lot. Walking in, it’s dark. None of the lights are on, and the sun hasn’t started to rise under the cloud-covered sky.

When I walk out from the back, I see Mel sitting on top of the bar with her legs crossed, nursing a cup of coffee.

“Hey,” I say softly as I approach her.

She looks up and that’s when I see the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“He’s gone,” is her only response, and I know she means her husband.

Zane, back when he was her boyfriend, played gigs here every now and then. They would hang out here a lot, and when Mel needed a job, I brought her on.